The Curse of Havenwood House, Installment 3

I’ve tried to condense this story so it fits inside the month of October, but that is not working. I’m counting on some spook factor residue in November to keep people reading. Hope you’ll leave me a comment and let me know what you think about Aurora and her dreadful Havenwood House and if you think it’s worth finishing even if it goes a bit longer!

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The next day, Aurora was out of bed before the sun. The anticipation of John Garth’s visit made the bright morning and the lightness of her mood a contrast to all those dreary yesterdays. She ordered her bath, and after the tub was filled and steamy, Livy sprinkled crushed rose petals over the surface. 

Slipping into its perfume, Aurora lay back, relishing the memory of the doctor. He had a presence that delighted her. Just recalling his touch sent a cascade of delight through her. 

She’d just closed her eyes, imagining him near, when the water rippled and slapped against her thighs. Startled, she sat upright as the waves grew higher until they washed over the porcelain sides, and the tub shook around her. She gripped the rim, but the shaking grew fiercer. 

“Stop!”

“Miss?” Livy poked her nose through the door and fell back against the wall, eyes round with fear.

Aurora rose from the water and tumbled onto the floor. When she landed, the tub stilled. 

She held out her hand. “Towel, Livy!” 

Livy quickly handed her one but fixed her stare on the half-empty bath.

You will not intimidate me, House. Aurora turned on the stunned girl behind her. She choked back the fear that threatened to overwhelm her if she didn’t fortify herself with anger. “Stop gaping and sop up this water for heaven's sake!” 

Fleeing to her bed chamber, she waited until she’d calmed enough to manage hooks and eyes, then she dressed in a simple muslin embroidered with tiny leaves and berries at the neckline. Since Livy was still sopping up water, Aurora fixed her own hair, fastening it at the back and tying it with a lace ribbon. She took a moment to study herself in the mirror. 

“Yes. This will do.”

She stooped to adjust the hem, but when she rose to look at herself for final approval, the mirror had gone black.

“Enough, House.” She stomped her foot. The mirror shimmered, darkly alive. She was temping a terrible evil. Fear bloomed large inside her, threatening to suffocate her resolve. How much longer would she be able to endure this? The choices were death on her terms now or death as it had come to her mother and grandmother when the house decided. She held back the tears that stung her eyes and set her jaw, determined to make up her mind soon. For now, she must meet John Garth, so she hurried to the study where Cook had sent tea. 

When the doctor entered, his presence soothed and unsettled her at the same time. Her hand trembled when she lifted the teapot.

“Let me,” he said, taking it from her and filling the second cup. “Has the fever returned?”

She shook her head. “I’m feeling very well. It’s the preparations for the masque that have me preoccupied.” And besides this damnable house, it is you who have me in a stir.

He set down his cup and took her wrist in one hand. Her pulse became visible beneath her skin. It pounded at the back of her knees and just below the delicately embroidered berries at the neckline of her dress.

“A bit fast, but,”—he placed his other fingers on her forehead,—“you have no fever. Good. Still, I recommend that you rest and not over-exert.” He released her wrist. “Your Mr. Weebly delivered the invitation to the masque this morning. Very interesting.”

“Why so?”

“Everyone is to come as a gryphon?” He looked up at her, amused. 

The wall behind him flexed, then quieted. The house simmered with resentment, but it didn’t erupt. As was its practice, it was lying in wait to pounce when she was most vulnerable—when she was alone.

“I adore those creatures,” she said, “and I want the ballroom filled with them that night.” 

“I’ll do my best with the costume. You’ve set me a challenge, Miss Havenwood.” He smiled and Aurora clunked her teacup clumsily onto the saucer.

She dreaded his leaving. His presence leashed the malevolence that usually surrounded her, so for a short time, she lived with less fear.  

Sadly, the hour with the doctor sped past, and Aurora stayed at the window until his carriage was only a speck, then not wanting to remain inside, she walked down the path and into the garden. 

The stone gryphon nested in a bed of bright red flowers. His front paw raised, his wings tucked back, he stared over the wide lawn and the terraces of lavender. Enchanting. Elegant.

Quickly glancing around and finding no one nearby, she pulled herself onto his broad back and closed her eyes. Once again the feeling of him comforted her. She imagined rising into the clouds and sailing away, leaving the wretched Havenwood House behind. “Gryphon, I must escape this miserable existence.”

A loud crack like lightning sounded overhead, jolting her from her fantasy. She looked up, but the sky was clear.

Installment 4 Wednesday, October 23: The House becomes more threatening as the masque grows nearer. Aurora must give up her ball or confront the unseen evil at last.