The Collector Page 5
In the seconds it took to ask myself what had happened, I came out of my daze and back into the present, shocked to find that I was not in my bedchamber. I was outside on the rooftop terrace, crouching beside the loose paving stone. Someone was calling out to me, but in my shock, I could not focus on the world around me. My brain seemed to be on a ten second delay as I realized I walked outside in my sleep. I had never done such a thing in my life.
Suddenly, I felt a tug on my shoulder that pulled me backwards, and I returned into full awareness.
I found myself staring into the bewildered eyes of Lucas Keith. “What are you doing out here, Ms. Blaire?” he asked, appearing concerned as he knelt down beside me. “Do you not feel how cold it is? You will catch your death out here.”
Opening my mouth, I couldn’t bring myself to utter a word. Feeling my cheeks flush with embarrassment, I realized that I was slightly less covered than I would have preferred, wearing only a spaghetti-strap tank top and a pair of sweat shorts. My feet felt like ice. I looked down to see they were completely bare. “I—I had a dream,” I managed to say, averting my eyes.
Lucas looked at me as if I had lost my mind. “You are sitting out here in the freezing cold because... of a dream,” he said, grabbing hold of my arm and trying to pull me up. “Are you mad? Get inside.”
“No!” I screamed, surprising him, and he released me.
Dragging myself back on the ground, I reached for the paving stone. I pounded it with my fist, finding it loose. Digging at the side of it with my fingers, I managed to lift the heavy stone, finding a small chamber hidden underneath.
Lucas looked at me with surprise, glancing from me to the hidden chamber. “What is it?”
Inside the chamber, there was a metal box. It was made of tin and painted with green paint. The box was about six inches wide and four inches in height. I reached for the box, taking hold of it and lifting it out of the hole.
My heart pounded with anticipation. This may be the end to a mystery or the formation of another question. However, I couldn’t wait to examine my discovery. “It is a box,” I said, stating the obvious.
With his green eyes boring into me, Lucas stared at me with a cross between curiosity and bewilderment. “What is in it?”
Smiling, I flipped open the lid, scanning the contents of the box with my eyes. Reaching in, I pulled out a silver charm bracelet. I looked at each one of the heart charms dangling from the links and held it up for Lucas to see. With his brows seemingly sewn together, he took the bracelet from me and examined it silently.
Looking into the box, I saw it was filled with other iteMs. Some of value. Some seemingly useless. I saw a diamond broach and hair pin. Sharing the same space as these items was a red velvet ribbon. I noticed a blue translucent button that seemed to have come off of a coat or some other item of clothing. There was also a tiny emerald ring that must have been owned by a child or a really petite woman.
Lucas placed the bracelet back in the box abruptly, closing the lid while it was still in my hands. “Trinkets. Sometimes children hid the most insignificant things.”
Remembering my vision of the mysterious woman, I knew that the mystery was far deeper than a child hiding random objects. She was real. The images she showed me were real. Finding this keepsake box was confirmation of that. I just had to understand what it all meant. “You think a child did this?” I asked, puzzled.
“Of course,” he said, placing the stone back in place and taking the box from me as he rose to his feet. “Isobel used to love to bury time capsules in the garden. This is no different. I will have a talk with her about this later.”
With that, he turned on his heel and entered the castle, taking the box with him.
The next morning I woke up at the crack of dawn and decided to skip breakfast. Instead, I headed to the fifth floor to conclude my work. After mopping the floors, cleaning the furniture with wood oil, and changing the sheets on the bed, I noticed it was past lunch time, and I had not seen Isobel all morning. The bedchamber she had been working on was in the same state as she had left it the day before, and I wondered if she was feeling well.
When I ventured downstairs, I found her uncle seated at the dining room table, serving himself soup from a tureen at the center of the table. Moira was standing next to him, pouring him a small glass of red wine that was no doubt rare and expensive.
Lucas looked up warily when I entered the room, appearing unhappy to see me. He wore a thin, black v-neck sweater which was made of cashmere. The color made him look mysterious, causing his pale features to pop.
I assumed that I had made an unflattering impression with my antics the night before. He looked at me as if he couldn’t stand to be in my presence... as if I irked him in some way. I knew my behavior wasn’t ordinary, but I couldn’t figure out why it would bother him so much. He had hardly spent any time with Isobel or me.
He smiled politely, motioning towards a seat across the table from him. “Good of you to join us, Ms. Blaire.”
Moira gave me a small smile before she ran in the kitchen, retrieving a bowl and spoon for me.
I sat down as the maid poured me some soup. “Will Isobel be joining us?”
“I haven’t seen the young lady all morning,” Moira commented.
“No, you wouldn’t have,” Lucas stated, taking a spoon full of broth into his mouth. “She went to run some errands in town and then to catch up with some acquaintances of hers. She should be back after dinner tonight, but I wouldn’t be surprised if she returns in the morning.”
I nodded, feeling somewhat confused by Isobel’s supposed actions. After all, I was a guest in her house. It wasn’t proper to leave me to my own devices while she went off to have fun with other friends.
Moira excused herself for the day as she prepared to go home. She had mentioned something about dinner being done and reheating it on the stove without burning it. Lucas thanked her as she left the room.
Everything seemed wrong somehow. Isobel and I were supposed to have a girl’s vacation, and yet, she was quick to abandon me. It just didn’t seem right. Why couldn’t she have invited me or at least told me she was going?
“Ms. Blaire,” he called in a stern voice, jarring me out of my thoughts.
I stumbled into awareness awkwardly, nearly jumping out of my skin. “Kyleigh, Sir. But everyone calls me Leigh. Please call me Leigh.”
“Very well. Did you sleep well, Leigh?” he asked, raising a brow at the inquiry.
Fidgeting in my seat, I nodded, taking my spoon in my hands and delving into my soup. “Yes.”
“Good”
I don’t know if Lucas was that perceptive, but he had a way of making me feel uncomfortable. Perhaps it was his brash tone of voice. Or his no nonsense approach to everything. Or the way he looked at me. I could almost see an underlying emotion hidden behind his nonchalant manner. There was some sadness in his eyes when they met mine, but there were other conflicting emotions that could be read there. I almost sensed disgust and... even hatred.
Shaking those thoughts out of my head, I tried to rationalize my feelings, believing I was exaggerating the situation.
“Are you having a conversation with yourself?”
Embarrassed at having been caught, I lifted my eyes to meet his, feeling my cheeks grow warm. “Yes.”
“Well... what about?”
Before I lifted my spoon to my mouth, I paused, replacing it back into the bowl. “If I may ask, did you question Isobel about the trinkets before she left?”
His deep green eyes scanned my face before resting on my eyes and looking away. “Yes, she recalls placing something in that spot, but she was young and can’t remember everything about it.”
“Did you recognize any of those items?”
I watched as a slow smile played on his lips, but he didn’t appear to be in a smiling mood. He actually appeared bothered by the whole conversation. “You seem awfully interested in a few knick-knacks found in a box.”
“Well, I’d like to know the history of those things. They must have been valuable to Isobel for her to hide them away.”
“Perhaps. Or maybe they were just some pieces of rubbish that doesn’t hold any value to anyone,” he told her bluntly, saying nothing more on the subject as an uncomfortable silence drifted between us.
However, I couldn’t shake what I knew. The Green Lady was speaking to me in some way... showing me what I needed to know. She was trying to reveal a closely guarded secret. I needed to put an end to this question mark in my head and uncover the truth.
After lunch, Lucas informed me that he had his own errands to attend to, but informed me he would be back before dark. He entered his Rolls-Royce and quickly vanished down the road, appearing eager to be rid of me.
Throwing on my winter coat, I exited the castle from the front door, wanting to breathe in some fresh air. With the sky overcast, the day seemed dreary, and the usual gentle sea breeze became harsher, whipping my hair around my face.
Since Isobel was out, I decided to spend the rest of my day exploring a small amount of the three hundred acre property. Although venturing outside was frightening with all the stories of disappearing women in the area, I thought I should be safe if I remained on the castle grounds, keeping its stone walls within my sights.
Walking leisurely, I decided to start my little adventure in the side garden. Being winter, the garden was barren, filled with little more than dirt and weeds. However, I noticed a gate in the retaining wall which separated the castle grounds from the rocky ocean cliffs. I ran to it excitedly, seeing a strip of land that I could walk upon. Reaching for the gate, I pulled it open, hearing its shrill screams of protest in my ears like a siren. Walking through the threshold, I saw that the land on this side of the wall was wide enough for one or two people to stroll upon, side by side. It was filled with weeds and disappeared into the rocky shoreline for which this area seemed known for.
Stepping onto this small plot of land, I walked slowly, taking in the breathtaking views of the North Sea. The air was crisp. I inhaled slowly, never smelling air so fresh in my life. Feeling relaxed, I watched as the choppy waves swept across the sharp rocks that formed the short cliff-face the castle stood upon, spritzing the air with microscopic droplets.
Taking another step, my foot caught on an object on the ground and I nearly fell on my face.
Kneeling on the ground, I pulled back the weeds, revealing a small metal plaque sticking out of the ground. “In memory of Helen Gunn, The Beauty of Braemore, who suffered her death on this rocky shore and whose bravery will never be forgotten,” I read, feeling a chill sweep up my spine like a bolt of electricity.
Panic washed over me like ice water, and my heart began to pound with newfound intensity. I suddenly felt as if my chest were constricting. My nostrils flared as my breathing increased to accommodate the feeling of suffocating. My throat had gone so dry that I thought I was going to choke.
In this anxious state, my mind began to race. What if the stories surrounding this land appeared to be true? Someone had died in the vicinity of the castle. Someone who may have fell to their death from the tower overlooking this plot of land.
Suddenly, a crow flew above my head, landing on the stone wall that separated the castle from the shore. As its bottomless eyes met mine, it began to squawk, sounding like the horrific screams of a woman.
Covering my ears, I shivered. These cries sounded like a woman being murdered, inspiring fear within the pit of my soul. I couldn’t hear anymore. Wanting to put as much distance between me and the bird, I ran back to the house and shut myself in.