Velvet Shadows (19 page)

My loose coat was also black, and under it, snapped to my belt, was the purse holding the funds Mrs. Deaves had
sent. This hour was one in which few were to be encountered in the halls, since those staying here would be dressing for dinner. Fenton picked up my bag, jealously holding onto it. While Teresa, bonneted and shawled, waited by the outer door of the suite. We took a back way down the servants’ stairs, and came to the rear door where a hack waited.

I pressed Fenton's hand as she helped me in, but was too uncertain of voice to bid her goodbye. Her kindness had cushioned a bad time for me. Yet at that moment I never wanted to look at her face again. For she, too, was one of those who must
know.

From the deck of the ferry I could see the setting sun making a brilliant path across the bay. The city which had been to me such a place of threatening fog and evil shadows, was, in my final glimpse of it now, golden. But that promise was only fantasy.

Teresa urged me into the cabin, but I could not bear to leave the open air. The wind and the sea calmed my nerves, assured me that I could again become the mistress of myself. I asked the maid to leave me on one of the deck benches and she went willingly enough as I turned my back upon the false promise of the city. Now I must set the past firmly behind me.

Some mysteries I might never solve, but in this life that is often true. Perhaps in years to come, I would wonder about those—how Alain had been able to meet Mr. Whicker and so follow to Bessie's foul hole, and again, how he and those with him had tracked me to that makeshift temple of Victorine's vile worship. Or had his second discovery of me been chance only when he was in pursuit of the girl? And how, in turn, had she escaped Mrs. Pleasant to be reunited with D'Lys?

Not that any of this mattered. Mrs. Beall—Mrs. Pleasant—Victorine—they had played their several games. And I was somehow sure that Mrs. Pleasant had tried to set her seal on me also. What if I had accepted that bold offer she had made me?

I would never have been free again, either from her or my own conscience. I had not written her any farewell
note, perhaps because I had a submerged fear that she, above all, might have been the one to circumvent my escape.

A rising wind tugged at my veil, but that was too well pinned to be so loosened. Victorine was at sea also, on her way to those islands where cruel and bloody slavery had nurtured devil worship. But once in truth she must have been as pure and untouched as she looked. Was it only through the influence of D'Lys she had become the priestess of the dark sect? Or had the taint lain within her from birth, needing only the right touch to awaken it?

At least D'Lys lived and I was no murderess. Though I well knew that were I forced to face him again I would once more use any weapon in my own defense.

So within me, too, there was violence.

I shivered. How little we know of ourselves until we are put to some testing. Who was I now—?

Dimly I was aware that someone had come close to where I huddled on the bench. I turned my head aside, though I knew my battered face could not be seen through the veil. I did not want to leave my seat bathed by the dying sun, to go out of the clean breath of the sea.

“Tamaris—”

I bit hard upon my lower lip, refusing to accept that I had heard my name called by
that
voice.

“Tamaris! Don't you turn from me now!” He closed the distance between us with a single stride. His hand gripped my wrist in a hold I could not break without a struggle.

“Let me go! For the love of heaven let me go!”

“Not until we have talked. Did you think to escape me so easily?”

I kept my face turned from him. His body was between me and the setting sun.

“How did you know where I was? Fenton?”

“Fenton kept her allegiance to you. I did not have your letter until you had gone.” None of the anger left his voice, but he was controlling himself so rigidly that I could feel that tension. “As to how I knew—thank Amélie!”

“Amélie!” He had startled me out of my self-absorption. “What has she to do with me?”

“You saved her life when that hellcat would have left her to die. Yes, Amélie has a part in your story, too. Now you are going to listen!”

Without invitation he sat down. I think if I had tried to move away he would have used his superior strength to hold me. Still I would not look at him, but I could not close my ears to his voice.

“You owe Ame'lie—
we
owe her—a great deal, Tamaris. She is grateful to you, not only for saving her life, but for taking the spider bracelet—”

“But—”

“That nasty piece of work was Victorine's hold over her. She had persuaded that poor superstitious girl that the creature on the band would come to life and bite her if she did not obey Victorine's every whim. And if she were to lose or destroy it she would die immediately. But when you took it away Amélie firmly believes you took upon yourself its curse. In the end you returned it to Victorine, so she who invoked it had to bear it. Amélie was indeed in slavery, a blacker, more perverted slavery of the mind and spirit than any slavery of the body.”

“But Amélie appeared so devoted,” I protested.

“That was her only salvation, as Victorine often told her. Complete and willing service or devilish revenge.”

How wrong that I had believed Amélie the darker spirit, when in truth the roles had been reversed.

“It was Ame'lie,” Alain continued, “who supplied us with a list of the haunts of D'Lys, told us of the derelict ranch he had turned into his temple. Though he had traveled with us on the same train from the East, keeping in touch with Victorine through Ame'lie, he had sent his people ahead. They were islanders steeped in voodoo, who believed that D'Lys was the incarnation of one of their dreaded gods—Baron Samedi who rules the dead.

“You see, Victorine and D'Lys had a plan; they were not preparing any elopement.” Alain laughed harshly. “Because of their plan she played her part of
jeune fille
well enough to deceive us all. I could accept that she was
a young girl, her head turned by a convincing rascal. Even until I saw her in the temple I did not credit all Amélie told me of her when I returned to San Francisco. No, Victorine was not to elope with an undesirable suitor. She had bigger game in mind—me!”

“But how—”

“Again by working through the ways of voodoo, in the power of which they firmly believe. You saw one—the gris-gris Victorine made Amélie leave on my desk.”

“But you were not one of their followers. How could they expect to influence you?”

“They believe in their powers, Tamaris. And it is an odd thing that complete faith in either good or evil can produce strange results. They began to work on me in the traditional manner with the gris-gris, so directing their power, as they thought, against me. Tell me, Tamaris, did you discover anything of a like nature among your own belongings? Amélie was evasive but I believe she planted such.”

“A tiny bag sewn into the hem of my shawl, but I destroyed it. And—perhaps the wax thing—” I described the crude image I had found in the worktable.

“Yes. Those were of their doing. Later they would have tried drugs.”

I shivered as memory reared again.

“Tamaris.” His arms tightened about me until I struggled violently. I could not bear his touch. “Tamaris, what is it?”

“Do not hold me so, I beg of you! Do not!”

“Certainly.” He released me instantly. When he continued he spoke matter-of-factly as if he discussed a piece of business.

“They would have turned to drugs. It was their plan to weaken my will, perhaps my body and mind, that Victorine might come into control of the family affairs. According to Amélie, these devilish substances they employ can make a person obey any order given, while he is under the influence of such poison. In addition the poor wretch comes to crave more and more until he is fully enslaved. Luckily business demands took me away at the
time of your arrival. They were not yet ready to move in because they were not yet immune to counterattack.

“For, once they arrived in San Francisco, they discovered a rival in their own field, a person so well established and commanding such a wide range of power, as to make their situation dangerous. They were put on the defensive before they could make their initial move—”

“You mean Mrs. Pleasant. It is true, then, she uses voodoo?” I was pulled out of my own dark misery by his story, thinking more of what he had to say than what had happened to me, before I knew what was happening.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

“Yes, Mammy Pleasant. But you speak as if you know her—”

I caught the inquiring note in that statement, which was more of a question.

“Long ago, before the war. My father was an abolitionist, he hated slavery. The
India Queen
sometimes smuggled slaves to freedom. She was then Mrs. Smith and she had to do with the shipping of such fugitives. On the first day I was in San Francisco she saw me and sent a note saying I could call on her if I ever were in trouble.”

He nodded. “Yes. I know now that she and her people were already aware of D'Lys and what he planned. Thus she must have wanted contact with you to further her surveillance on Victorine. Mammy Pleasant is a woman of power, claims herself to be a voodoo queen. As such she had no intention of surrendering any influence to D'Lys. In the voodoo worship, I am told, the queen is supreme, any priest subservient—which would not suit D'Lys. But with Victorine as her rival that was another matter.”

Alain fitted the puzzle together piece by piece. For all her talk of a debt to my father (which could be true, for I
did not doubt she could be entirely honest when it suited her purpose) Mrs. Pleasant had excellent reasons to wish to get Victorine under her control. And, had I listened to her, then, I, too, would have been one of her pawns.

“We raided the Rooster just after they had taken you away, hunting D'Lys. Célie told the truth when Captain Lees got at her. He could have crushed her, as she well knew. But D'Lys’ men must have been in hiding, saw him dumped, apparently dead, in the street. Also, they got to Victorine and released her when Mrs. Pleasant was called away to the Lanthens’.”

“I thought I had killed him—D'Lys,” I said dully. The old horror was drawing about me once more, like a blood-sodden cloak.

“I would have, had I laid hands on him!” There was a grim note in Alain's voice which enforced belief. “Unfortunately, Bessie has two places on the Coast. We had to split forces, Lees and his men heading for the largest I was on my way to the other when I met Whicker, who told me what he had seen. He and Covens had tried to rescue you and had been beaten off by Bessie's bullies. In fact, my arrival, with two of Lees’ men, was all that prevented murder. Whicker went to round up more of the crew, I found that window. Then—after I dropped you out, Bessie's men rushed me. When I got free you were gone.”

“They were waiting—D'Lys’ people—somehow they drugged me—”

“Their damn drugs! Earlier they had handled one of our men the same way. However, Amélie told us about the ranch, except she was not sure where it was. We wasted more than half a day hunting it. Almost too much time. When we got in and saw—” His grip on my arm tightened.

“You sent them away—Victorine and D'Lys.”

That set look of his Indian ancestry was on his face, and I knew it was a cover for blazing fury which only his strength of control held in check.

“They are gone. I wish I might have made them suffer for what they did and tried to do. But there was little we
could prove against them in any court; intentions are not acts. Had we tried them—there would have followed ruin for innocent people. Do you think I would have allowed
you,
Tamaris, to testify before the curious of what was done to you?”

I cringed, both physically and mentally, at the picture his words summoned up. Alain must have felt my movement, slight as it was, for he laid his hand gently over the two of mine clasped so tightly together.

“No, they could not be allowed to drag others down. When I faced Victorine she was like one possessed by the devil. I can almost believe those old tales of demons who take on the likenesses of fair women.”

“But she cannot do you any harm now?” I ventured.

“No, thanks to two courageous women.”

“Mrs. Beall?” I guessed.

“How did you learn of her?” Alain demanded quickly.

“Just by chance. I shall never repeat what I did hear.”

“She will be grateful for your silence. She has paid in suffering many times over for the mistakes she made in her youth. When she married my father she was very young, and she was coerced into that, I have just learned. The marriage was arranged by her family, as is customary in France, though she was in love with another. She hated this country, and, as I think back now on some of my own memories, she feared my father.

“He was not a genial man, and much immersed in his business projects. Also he considered her frivolous, and tried to make her over into the pattern of my mother, who was a very different type of woman. The result was, as might be expected, disastrous. But how much blame had been wrongly apportioned I learned only when Mrs. Beall came to me, to enable me to cut any claim Victorine might have on me. Her courage was very great, for I think she believed I might be as censorious as my father, and she would be exploited for her past.”

I was glad for the distraught woman I had seen with Mrs. Pleasant. And gladder still that Alain was as he was. So the story was now all told. But why had he followed me to tell it? He could as well have written a letter—

The ferry whistled, we were docking. This was my time to say goodbye with such a firmness as to discourage any further communication between us. I arose, pulling my coat closer about me. The sun was now down, there was a cold wind rising to match the chill about my heart Would I ever be warm again? Sorrow passes with time, but there are things even harder to erase from one's mind and emotions.

“Teresa will be waiting. You have been very kind—” I tried to find conventional words (words which would convince him of my detachment by their very insipid rightness) to prove he owed me nothing.

“Where are you planning to go?” He stood between me and escape like a sentry forbidding me my freedom.

“Back east.”

“To Ashley Manor?”

“Perhaps.”

Alain shook his head. “I think not. You cannot fit yourself again into the pattern of the perfect lady instructress, Tamaris.”

The blow was so sudden, so cruel, that for a moment I could not believe I had heard him say that. I think then that I cried out, as might an animal when death struck.

“What is it?” Again he caught my arm, held me fast. Then he glanced at the passengers pushing past us, preparing to disembark. “We can't stay here. There is much more—come!”

I had not the strength to withstand him; he bore me along before I could protest. Shortly I found myself in a cab, watching him speak to Teresa on the wharf. She turned, went back on board the ferry before I could call out to her, leaving me alone with Alain. He tossed my carryall up to the driver, and climbed in to share my seat.

“You must let me go! I cannot stand—” The dull pain in my head was worse, and once more I experienced that vertigo.

“Be quiet. I am taking you to friends where you will be very welcome. I wired them before the ferry left San Francisco.”

His touch, his voice, were so gentle. Yet only moments
ago he had flung in my face the fact of my degradation, that I was no longer fit to teach the young. I was bewildered, half sick. Still I did not have the strength to quarrel with him, any more than I had been able to withstand the voodoo drug.

“You will like the Collmers, they are old-timers. Made the overland journey in fifty-four. He had a small lucky strike in the gold fields and was shrewd enough to use it to build Collmer House, a small quiet family hotel.”

I did not reply, reserving all my failing energy for the final struggle of wills I could sense was shaping now between us. He said nothing more, nor did he look at me. His face was set and severe—his “Indian” face. At length the hack pulled up before a three-story building and he handed me down.

We were welcomed at the door by the Collmers themselves, white-haired, elderly, and manifestly more gentlefolk than many I had seen in the glittering frame of the city across the bay. When they spoke I recognized the New England inflection in their voices. Mrs. Collmer escorted me at once to a small suite of two rooms, a sitting room with a bedchamber beyond.

I looked about me and sighed with relief. Here was no red velvet, no marble and gilt. The curtains were cream-white, the furniture covered with an old-fashioned, eye-restful chintz. It was as if I had come out of a nightmare into cool, clean, quiet, and peace.

My hostess said that dinner would be served here in private, for which I was devoutly thankful. But when she had gone and I unpinned that cloaking veil, removed my coat and hat, I made myself go directly to the mirror on the wall and stand there, studying my reflection. So I firmly impressed upon my mind again what lay behind me, that I might not weaken in my resolve to leave all the immediate past behind.

At the sound of a closing door I turned swiftly. Alain stood there and I deliberately turned my battered and discolored face to the full light. The bruises would fade, yes; however, there were other hidden marks I felt would never be erased by the passage of time.

“Now we have time and privacy.” He came directly to the point as if it were a matter of business, an outspokenness I welcomed. “I must know, Tamaris, the reason for this foolishness, why you want to leave—and why you feel the way you do about me. Oh, yes, Fenton has clear eyes, she reported your reaction concerning this to me—”

From his coat pocket he brought out the white jade bowl. Now he held it out, his hand cupped as if he cherished a treasure, which indeed he did.

“Why make me,” I asked, “put into words what no gentleman should want to hear?”

“There is no time now for the evasions of courtesy. I want the truth! I learned long ago that only a relationship founded on truth can last. Give me that truth now, Tamaris. I know that you felt you could not face this, that it upset you so much that you immediately set about this folly of running away when you are hardly able to stand on your feet. You must tell me why.”

I forced myself to look directly at him, though I shrank from the ordeal of meeting his eyes.

“You sent me a gift which should only go to one—who—who is”—I searched frantically for the right word—“untouched.”

A dark flood rose from his jaw to his cheeks. There was such a merciless look in his eyes that I thought death must look like this.

“Then D'Lys—he did force you—” Alain seemed to be having the same difficulty with words as I had had.

“No! But he—all of them—made me a part of their evil. They have made me feel unclean. I can never return to what I was, I must always remember. You already understand—why are you making me say this? It is cruel! Only a short time ago you yourself taunted me with the fact that I cannot return to Ashley Manor, that decent people will not want my company now—”

“Taunted!” He closed the space between us with a single stride. “You are out of your mind, girl! You have nothing to be ashamed of—and courage any man would be proud to own! I said that two women had had the courage to
free me of the net Victorine tried to weave. One was Mrs. Beall—the other was you, Tamaris!”

I could not escape him, his strength held me prisoner. Just as his lips were first gentle on my bruised cheek, and then demanding, hotly demanding on my own. The will which had sustained me melted—was gone—

“Tamaris!” Alain's voice sounded sharp with fear as the room whirled around me. Then I was on a settee with his arms still supporting me.

“I am so tired—” But I found a second later the strength as well as the need to ask, “Did you mean what you said?”

“I shall never tell you anything but the truth, Tamaris.”

He said that as if repeating a vow. Once more I felt as I had for those very fleeting moments when I had first awakened, that all the burdens of life had been lifted from me, that I was light and free. Light and free and happy—with a happiness which swept in and in, to fill empty places I had not known existed.

We were married the next day, with the Collmers attending us. I did not return to San Francisco, but rather remained quietly at Collmer House while Alain went back and forth, settling his affairs. For he now decided on a long-considered plan, to transfer the headquarters of his business to the East for some years.

Fenton came to me and with her Amélie, whom he had promised to provide for. The girl had no desire to return either to the islands of her birth or to France. As she was so skilled a dressmaker, Alain set her up in her own business.

But that I return to a city so full of evil memories for me he sternly forbade. Nor did I hear again from Mrs. Pleasant, that enigmatic “power.” Perhaps she thought of me as one to be written off on the “loss” side of her ledger, or perhaps she had always been strictly honest in her desire to help me. I shall never know, nor do I want to ask.

At the end of the month we were again on a train, this time eastward bound. And Alain found a house of cool and gentle peace for us in the country along the Hudson.

There is no red velvet, no gilt, no marble. Most of Alain's fashionable acquaintances would deem it sadly old-fashioned. I love it.

Now I watch through the window for the return of Alain—and happiness. Perhaps our love will not always be the same, this first wild rapture will be tamed into a steady content. But there will always be Alain. And I want no more.