House on Highland Road by Melissa Peters

Author:Melissa Peters [Melissa Peters]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Melissa Peters
Published: 2023-09-27T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eight

Caroline Turner:

1860-1900

The children are up to their schemes again. The sound of fighting has made it up to even my rooms. I wish Gracie would keep her children in line. They are always picking on my sons. I know she suspects my relationship with my brother is untoward, though Philip Jr. and I have been careful to give her no reason to believe this. Still, her feelings are evident. Her children understand this and take it out on my dear Lester and Morris, without reason.

My hand glides along the banister as I descend the steps. My family home has aged well. I wish there was a way to guarantee it would pass to my sons and not Gracie’s children. After all, my boys are full-blooded Turners. Gracie’s are but half-Turner.

The door to the parlour is ajar. I look around, but Gracie and the nanny are nowhere to be found. I shake my head and take a deep breath, then glide into the room with all the fortitude I can summon. I admit, I am slightly terrified of Gracie’s horde. Lester and Morris aren’t the only ones they’re disrespectful towards.

It is not the children I find when I enter the parlour; at least, not the children I expected to find. Morris is beside his brother, fiddling with his pocketknife, eyes trained on the floor. Lester stands in the centre of the room, a hatchet held above his head. His arms are trembling. Before him, Philip Jr. lies on the floor, half hidden by the settee. Gracie is bent over him. She hears me enter and looks up, her pretty face contorting in rage.

“Look what your sons have done!” she screams at me, blood spattered across her cheek.

Her eyes are wild. She looks nothing like the docile bride Philip Jr. brought home all those years ago. She holds out imploring hands to me, eyes darting to Lester, who still towers over her, hatchet raised. Blood covers her hands.

“They killed him!” she shrieks. “Do something!”

I take a step closer. I need to know, need to see with my own eyes. On the floor behind the settee, Philip Jr. is a crumpled shell of a man, his head of thick, sandy hair darkened with blood, half caved in. A dark pool has spread around him. Gracie’s skirts are dark with it. My stomach drops, bile rising in my throat.

My breath comes out in a ragged sob. I lift trembling hands to cover my mouth. This can’t be happening… Philip Jr., my soulmate, my brother… is dead.

I turn to Lester, shaking. “What have you done?”

He doesn’t look at me. His voice is rough. “I didn’t mean to, but I can’t take Aunt’s comments anymore, Mama. She said…”

I take a step towards my eldest, my voice steely with rage. “What? What did she say?”

He licks his lips, and finally lowers the hatchet. “She said that I am an inbred bastard. Is it true?”

“So you killed your uncle?” I can’t believe it. That horrible woman! Of course this was her fault.

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