Beautiful Whispers (Ausmor Plantation Book 1 - Romance/Suspense) (14 page)

“That’s the Jane I remember.
” Alexander smiled at me. “You’re becoming you again. Guess I’m glad I’m not handsome.”

“
Right. All those giggly maids and tourists who undress you with their, what would writer Jane Austen say, furtive brows and shyer glances which mistaketh not their true intentions.”

“Jealous?” he asked with his eyebrows raised.

I couldn’t hide my greedy grin. “Maybe.”

“Not jealous when they drool over Byron.”

That pained me, but it was true. I guess I’d gotten so used to everyone wanting Byron. The attention didn’t phase me. That had to mean something. I think that meant everything.

Alexander
pushed me to the bed and kissed me quickly. “I’m yours, Jane. It doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks or wants. I only see you.”

I didn’t think I’d ever get tired of hearing his words
- his southern accent spilling into each syllable and merging one to another. No one spoke to me like that and fewer cared whether I was alive and well or maggoty rich in a ditch.

I finally heard Jane say those words. Hoped she wouldn’t forget. Had to find a way to make sure she remembered. I wondered if I was pushing her in the wrong direction. Was I making everything worse? Then she said she was falling in love with me. I had to let that be. For just a few minutes, I wanted it to be enough. I didn’t want to think how I’d protect her from Johnston or Byron. Johnston was dead. He just didn’t know it yet. And Byron? I knew what he was capable of. Jane had to remember on her own. She was there. She knows what happened.

Maybe she had to realize the truth of Byron before she could remember everything. It was linked to that day. That horrible day when I was so stupid to open the wrong door. If I’d gone the other way, everything would have changed.
Part of me wishes we could leave Ausmor, but Jane loves this house. I love this house. If Jane were the older Austen, everything would be different.

Someone knocked on the door.

I grinned at Jane. “Wanna bet that’s Mrs. Kiness looking for you?”

“Oh,” she said. “Too bad you still have your clothes. If you went to the door naked with me in here, springs would come out of her head.”

“You do realize I can hear every word you are saying, don’t you Jane?” Mrs. Kiness asked.

Jane pulled the sheet over her mouth and laughed. “Sorry.”

I opened the door.

Mrs. Kiness stepped inside, looked at me and then looked at Jane lying in my bed under the covers.
She clasped her hands behind her back. “And are we enjoying a sleepover I did not realize was about to occur?”

“I didn’t want to be alone,” Jane said. “Alexander found me in his room. I’m the guilty party. He didn’t do anything.”

Mrs. Kiness looked me up and down. “Mr. Ravenswirth?”

“It’s true,” Jane said. “That prick—”

“Jane Eva Austen!” Mrs. Kiness shook her head. “Language in this house I cannot tolerate.”

“But it was Johnston. How else could I describe
Mr. Johnston Morgan Stonston?”

Mrs. Kiness thought a moment then shrugged. “Proceed.”

“I ran up to my room to get Fanny Dingo’s toy, and he was there.”

Mrs. Kiness frowned. “There?
Are you saying Mr. Stonston was in your room?” She glanced between me and Jane. “But Mr. Morgan forbid him to be here anymore. I was there when he talked with him. Mr. Stonston heard every word, was very cordial and nodded in agreement that he was not to be at Ausmor again unless in the presence of his mother or brother.”

“Well, he must have bit through the leash because he was waiting for me.”

Mrs. Kiness grabbed her heart and walked over to Jane to feel her forehead. “Are you alright? What did he do? Did he hurt you? Should I call for Mr. Morgan? He will not be pleased that he was lied to. You know that is one of his pet peeves. My word, Jane, but you do feel flush.”

“It’s just because Alexander was fixin
’ to get naked.”

“Jane!”
I quickly looked at Mrs. Kiness. “I wasn’t. I swear.”

Mrs. Kiness looked me over. “I trust you, Mr. Ravenswirth.
Even though Jane’s lipstick is on your shirt.”

I quickly looked down as Jane giggled.

“Just remember I knew your mother and father and grandmother before. You must not do anything to—”

“I won’t. I swear. I haven’t touched Jane.”

“Not even when I threatened him.” Jane smiled that same devilish grin she gave me in the library. “He might file a sexual harassment lawsuit on me. Or Taylor. Maybe both.”

I shook my head and mouthed, ‘stop.’

Even Mrs. Kiness smiled at Jane. “I will never get over the things you blurt so freely. What an age you live in.”

“Mrs. Kiness, are you sure you didn’t crawl out of a Jane Austen novel?”

“Perhaps or maybe Agatha Christie. I always fancied myself a little of a Miss Marple, but she does find the bodies, does she not? I would not risk the mess.” She said all this as she closed up the drapes, turned on the light and straightened the books.

“It doesn’t freak you out, does it Mrs. Kiness?
” Jane asked. “Alexander and I are just talking. I can’t go back to my room. Miss Dingo’s safe with Evan. I wouldn’t be able to sleep wondering if Johnston was planning another ambush. God only knows what’s on his feverish, pathetic little perverted brain.”

“Hush, child.” She stood over Jane. “It does not ‘freak me out’ as you say.” She glanced at me
. “I trust Mr. Ravenswirth. I always have.” She walked over to me. “He comes from very fine stock.”

Her complimentary smile disarmed, but her eyes told me
her mind rushed through scenarios of dismemberment and colonial tortures should I harm Jane. “Your grandmother would be so proud of you.”

I smiled and grabbed the locket of hers I kept in my pocket. “W
ish I’d met her.”

Mrs. Kiness wiped a few tears
away. “Yes. Taken much too young. Although your grandfather was...” she hesitated.

I’d never heard too many things said about my grandfather, Mr. Stonston. Most people went mute as soon as his name was mentioned. But I blamed him for marrying Mags Morgan and sending my mother away without anything. And from my grandfather and Mags emerged the Johnston. I couldn’t think of sharing any blood with that.

“Your mother did love you in her own way,” Mrs. Kiness said. “And your father.”

I steadied myself. “I miss him.”

She grabbed hold of both arms.

“Doesn’t he have the best muscles?” Jane asked.

I shook my head as Mrs. Kiness hesitated. “I will bring you a pitcher of water. I’ll make it ice water for you, Jane. And some extra blankets and the rollaway for you, Alexander.” She stared into my eyes until I nodded. “Wait here with Jane. I will return momentarily.”

I kept the door open.

“That was close,” she said.

“What are you trying to do to me?”
I put my finger to my lips to tell Jane not to speak. Mrs. Kiness’ ears were world renowned.

Jane
acted as if she were going to spill something embarrassing but giggled and stopped herself.

“
Remember when we were kids and my father built that—”

“
Treehouse.” She stared into space. “We’d be up there for hours playing. You swore to protect me from all the demons.”

“And the Morgan Stonstons.”

She flinched. “Things never change, do they?”

Just enjoy the moment. It’s what my father used to tell me when I asked why he would plant flowers that would only last a season. ‘Enjoy the moment,’ he said. ‘This is their life whether chosen or given. This is the
only life they have.’

Jane smiled at me as if I was the only one she’d ever look at like that. I’d never get tired of that smile
. Her body wasn’t tensed as it usually was expecting to be attacked. She was safe with me. I had to remember never to lose that trust. Once lost, I’d never get it back. I’d wait until after the party. For what they did to her – Johnston would die and Byron would bleed.

I lied still and pretended to sleep. Alexander put his arms around me hours ago when I fell asleep. I woke up not long after but didn’t move. I knew he’d go back to the roll away if I did. He watched me, but I wasn’t self-conscious. What time was it? Sometime after six am. Hours ago, I’d heard Mrs. Hodghes in the kitchen preparing for the day.

She usually woke up about two
, walked the few steps from her room to her kitchen and fled back to her room at eight. She’d been the cook at Ausmor for decades, but she preferred flour and sugar to human interaction. I hadn’t seen her since I was seven. She had a kitchen staff, but they arrived after she’d vacated. I think her sister, Mrs. Kiness, was the only human she ever saw.

I stiffened when
footsteps vibrated down the hall. Mrs. Kiness. Alexander must have heard her too because he catapulted up and into the roll away.

“Mr. Ravenswirth?
” Mrs. Kiness said as she simultaneously knocked, opened the door and flipped on the light. “Miss Austen?”

I still pretended to sleep
.

Mrs. Kiness
walked over to the curtains and opened them a few inches. “It is the day of the Christmas Party.”

“What time is it?” Alexander said in mid yawn.

I opened my eyes just in time for Mrs. Kiness to flash her stink eye. “You are well aware of the hour, Alexander, since I doubt you slept a wink.”

“I slept some,” he said quickly.

“Uh huh, and the roll way? Not to your liking I assume which is why you had to jump back in before I opened the door.”

I
glanced at Alexander. “She’s got bat ears.”

“Obviously,” Alexander said.

Mrs. Kiness clapped her hands together. “Up now. Time to start your day.”

I rolled over. “Need more sleep. Alexander’s bed is comfy.”

Mrs. Kiness studied me. “Sleep well I hope?”

“She did.
” Alexander placed his unused blankets on the side table and folded up the roll away. “Slept all night.”

“Good.
” Mrs. Kiness threw back my covers.

The fire had long ago died out, a
nd the cold air stabbed me. “It’s too cold to get up.”

“Yes, it is winter in Virginia and apt to be of a chill. The best remedy for that is to get up and move about.”

I frowned but did what she said.

S
he yanked the curtains open all the way.

I cringed at the sunlight like a lazy vampire.

“Are you prepared for what the day will bring?”

“No,” I grumbled.

“Excellent.” She gently moved me to the door. “Say goodbye to Mr. Ravenswirth.”

I resisted Mrs. Kiness’ push for a second and stopped in front of Alexan
der to hug him. “Thank you.” How do you pay someone back for hours of safety? I hugged him tighter. There were no words to express what he did for me. I kept hugging him even though Mrs. Kiness gently pushed me to move along. I finally let go.

Alexander smiled. “My pleasure.” He glanced quickly at the warden.

Mrs. Kiness loudly cleared her throat and continued pushing me towards the exit. She practically slammed the door shut, led me down the hallway, through the main house and connecting door, up the side stairs and into my bedroom.

I turned around to face her.
“What?”

“I did not want to provide gossip to the staff.”

“They wouldn’t care.”

Mrs. Kiness shook her heard. “They care a great deal about you. Your welfare is one of their main priorities.”

I flinched. I’d never heard her say that. “Nothing happened.” Then I thought about all that did happen and smiled. “I mean a lot of things happened. Everything happened.” How did I explain to Mrs. Kiness what I hadn’t put together myself? “We talked. He held me while I slept. He still had his clothes on, and he usually sleeps naked.” I winced. That didn’t help my cause.

Mrs. Kiness tightened her grimace.

“He made me feel…” What did Alexander make me feel? Alive. Loved. Safe. Lucky. “Normal,” I blurted out.

Mrs. Kiness softened her expression from extreme interrogator to sympathetic guardian.

“I wasn’t afraid or jumping out of my skin. My head didn’t vice me up. My stomach didn’t swirl about and want to projectile. I didn’t get the willies from being watched by someone disgusting…” I said this as I looked about my room and hoped Johnston didn’t lurk in the floorboards.

“I didn’t lose time. I didn’t wake up somewhere I didn’t start with and have bruises and scrapes and broken bones and god kn
ows what else.” I was quiet a minute as everything sank in. “I think Alexander can fix me.”

Mrs. Kiness frowned. “What do you mean?”

“I’m broken,” I whispered.

Mrs. Kiness shook her head and reached her arms out to comfort me.

I backed away. I didn’t need consoling. I needed her to hear me. “I don’t know what’s happened to me, Mrs. Kiness. I have scars from things I can’t remember. Whenever I get close to something, this pounding in my head tells me to stop. I think these migraines are a warning when I get too close.”

“Close to what?”

“The truth? I don’t know.”

Mrs. Kiness lowered her head and grabbed
the cross around her neck.

“I think it starts with my mother’s death.”

Mrs. Kiness’ eyes widened quickly before recovering and looking down.

“I mean, obviously, it affected me, but everything’s a blur.”

Mrs. Kiness thrust her hands in her skirt pockets, and I knew she was holding tight to her rosary. “Losing a mother so young affects the children left behind.”

“And how did it affect Karenda?”

Mrs. Kiness didn’t say anything. She thought a few minutes then shook off the question. “Why don’t you put on your pretty dress.”

I had hoped to
wrench some truth out of Mrs. Kiness, but she didn’t do those things. I had to be confident that after the party, Grand Maeve promised to talk with me. My great aunt wasn’t shy. I wondered if she’d ever been shy. If Grand Maeve knew the answer, all I had to do was ask. I had to find the courage to prepare for what I didn’t know was coming.

I wouldn’t make Mrs. Kiness any more uncomfortable than she’d been.
“Party preps going okay?”

She sighed with relief, and her wor
ry lines disappeared leaving her flawless smile. She raced over to the armoire and pulled out my shiny golden full length dress. “We will have quite the turn out. I do believe your sister is even pleased.”

I
curled my upper lip.

“At least, I believe her to be pleased. She was somewhat persistent in her pleasantness to the staff this morning.”

“Which means she didn’t say anything.”

“Exactly.”

I studied the shiny dress Mrs. Kiness had a hard time gathering up as it attempted to escape like too much spaghetti in a small colander. “Noisy little thing.”

“I can
not recollect the name of the material, but it does not make a silent appearance.”

I grabbed the dress
. “I like the color, but all these jewels?” I ran my fingers over the swirly golden beads sewn into the top half of the dress that spilled over.

Mrs. Kiness shrugged. “It is only on the bodice. Your sister picked it out specially for you.”

“Probably thought I needed something there since...” I looked down at my chest. “...wasn’t blessed like she was.”

“You have been amply blessed.”

I wasn’t sure what Mrs. Kiness’ amply blessed translated to in cup size. “At least I’m not eighty three quadruple D or whatever Karenda is. I’d do a header every morning at breakfast and drown in my oatmeal.”

Mrs. Kiness shook her head.

“I know...” I smiled at her. “The things I blurt. You think Alexander will like the dress?” I cringed. I wanted to only think that and not ask Mrs. Kiness, but it was out and running amok without supervision.

Mrs. Kiness narrowed her eyes. “I believe Mr. Ravenswirth likes everything about you from your shy eyes to your
blurtiness.”

I smiled. I should have stopped there, but
, aside from providing a continuous irritation to my aunt and disappointing my sister, shocking Mrs. Kiness was one of my favorite hobbies - especially in the middle of her mid-mock. “We didn’t do anything naughty last night.”

Mrs. Kine
ss took a deep breath and clasped her hands behind her back as if she’d already prepaid for the worst case scenario tour.

“I wanted to. Believe me. Have you seen his hands? And the way his t-shirt bunches up around his abs which are all ripply and the way his jeans—”

“Away with you,” Mrs. Kiness pointed to the bathroom. “Honestly, child. You do love to rile me.”

I grinned and closed myself off in the bathroom.
Alone, the fears crept in like a fog, and my head throbbed at what I still didn’t know. I leaned over the sink and bowed my head. “Stop.” Images swirled as I heard Johnston’s threats, Byron’s warnings, Alexander… “Stop.” I gripped the sink tighter until I thought I’d lurch it from the wall. Then I slowly raised my head and looked at myself in the mirror. “He loves me. Alexander loves me. He always has.”

The words comforted but confused. They stopped the madness creeping
over the edges but brought up more questions. Why? Why me? I closed my eyes and heard Grand Maeve chastise me for the dark, brooding self-doubt. Was it self-doubt or self-loathing? Maybe a mixture of both. “Yes, I’d like two apple fritters, a dozen chocolate chip cookies and just a small tincture of self-doubt and self-loathing please. I wonder how they’d ring that one up?”

I shook my head. “Make myself crazy sometimes.” I
peered into my eyes. “What does he see in me that I don’t?” I hesitated but didn’t have any answers. Never had been a fan of self-congratulatory cheerleading and positive thinking. It made my stomach hurt and my lips purse like I’d been licking lemons all day.

“Alexander Cardenia Ravenswirth is in love with me.” The words stopped the darkness and the unknown. “He loves me.” I continued to
scrutinize. My brown blah hair had that lovely bed head look about it with the waves leading a massive insurgency and going every which way.

Blessed with wavy hair, I specialized in curl envy. Mine were the wannabees which started to flow and twist into an almost curl before giving up the effort part way
into a semi-wave. That was on good days. On bad, the hair turned surly and frizzed itself. The war left a scorched earth frizz where normal waves should be.

I looked closer. “Not a trace of shine or different colored streaks like many had. My hazel eyes didn’t appear mysterious or alluring or whatever eyes were supposed to look like. My skin was translucently fair. I couldn’t tan to save my life which meant, unless I put on makeup, I
was the color of a summer’s cloud. “Not beautiful,” I said, in comparing myself to my sister or even Lillia.

Then I looked again. “Not hideous though.”
People didn’t cross the street when they saw me coming. None of the staff screamed when I entered the room. And I hadn’t made a child cry in years. Fanny Dingo liked me, and the horses, foxes, and goats on the property didn’t make a fuss. I still hadn’t seen, Mr. Elton, the snake, but he left his skin around spring time which I liked to pretend was a gift from a shy suitor.

I put on the dress, and strategically used blush, eye liner, eye shadow and lipstick. I
refused the allure of mascara. I tried for years, but I’d end up raccoon like after I rubbed my eyes, sneezed or clumped upper and lower lids together until Mrs. Kiness had to pry them open with a sharp kitchen instrument. I looked at myself in the mirror and then opened the door to the waiting Mrs. Kiness.

She smiled and put her hands over her mouth. “Beautiful.”

I stepped out and twirled. “When my hair isn’t guttered and with some makeup...I don’t look too bad.”

Mrs. Kiness scrunched her face like a wet shoe. “You
have the most beautiful complexion and your eyes...”

I sighed.

“Why you choose not to give yourself credit I will never understand.”

“You’re not exactly from the rah
rah generation.”

“No.” Mrs. Kiness said. “But
in today’s world people have more self-knowledge. I do not believe the ability to understand and acknowledge one’s attributes is an unhealthy progress. Alright. How about this… Do you consider Mr. Bashley to be an attractive man?”

I gave her a look. “Even the dead knows he’s hot. It’s Byron.”

“And what of Mr. Ravenswirth? Do you consider him attractive? And answer please without your normal cheek intended to shock.”

I smiled. “Yes, and I know where you’re going with this.”

“And so you are aware they would not be attracted to dull, uninteresting creatures.”

“Like Aunt Bitty.”

Mrs. Kiness laughed quickly then suppressed her smile. She grabbed my hands. “They see what we know here at Ausmor. You are precious. Beautiful. Smart. Intelligent and strong.”