…
I tossed and turned for a long time before sleep finally found me, but it was soft and peaceful until I woke up early the next morning. I wasn’t sure what had woken me, but the sight that greeted me at my window was worth the short night. Outside snow was gently falling. I smiled, picked up my robe and looked for the tin of cook’s shortbread cookies I had hidden in the dresser and made for the bedroom door. It was a tradition of Isabella and I to wake each other up, should we notice snow falling in the middle of the night. We would sit in the alcove of her window and eat cookies. Halfway down the hall towards her bedroom, I noticed Isabella’s slender figure coming my way.
“Great minds think alike.” She whispered and winked at me. There was no reason to whisper, since we were the only two occupants in the west wing.
“Always.” I whispered back.
Arm in arm we walked back to her room and settled ourselves on pillows and wrapped blankets by the window. After some minutes of comfortable silence, I noticed Isabella looking at me quite intently. I stopped chewing my cookie and asked if something was the matter.
“You look much better than when you first arrived. How have your headaches been lately?”
“They have been manageable. At times they still want to overwhelm me, but they are mostly reduced to a dull throb, some days I’m almost pain free.” I gave her a small smile.
“And how is Dr. Munroe treating you? I gave him specific instructions to not spare any expense in treating you. Has he behaved professionally during his weekly check ups on your health?” My uncle might have his name on the property and fortune, but it is Isabella, who decides how it is spent and who is worthy of it.
“He has been perfectly professional.” I assured her, “He suspects that most of the pain is caused by malalignment in my neck. I am not sure what can be done about it, but he said he will do research into the matter.”
That seemed to pacify her and she nodded in satisfaction. I knew my cousin well enough to know that this was not the end of her questioning.
“What about Mr. Hartwell?” she asked.
“I do not know, if he suffers from a crooked neck.” I feigned innocence. She slapped me with a pillow.
“You know very well what I mean. You call him Thomas now. You two have heated discussions about books in the library. I haven’t seen him gasp for air like a fish out of water in weeks. Are you two involved?”
“It’s nothing like that. He apologized for being male and offered me his friendship and an opportunity to exchange ideas about books. That’s all.” I hoped she would believe me. Thomas had become a worthy friend and might one day be a close friend, but I felt no attraction to him beyond the intellectual.
“Good. I have a feeling love is not going to be a priority for us. He is awfully handsome, though.” She sighed and batted her eyelashes, “And one day he’ll even look like mommy hasn’t combed his hair.” She began laughing, but the cackle that escaped her throat was quickly drowned out by a strange and loud scraping noise coming from right above her room. Isabella froze, her eyes went wide in fear and her face lost all colour; even her lips were white.
“What is it?” I whispered. Her eyes slowly focused on mine. I noticed that she had begun to tremble slightly and was having difficulty forming words.
“It’s the same noise I told you about from before. It’s always the same. A scratching, a dragging sort of noise. A noise that’s too loud to come from mice, rats or even birds in the attic.”
I had to agree. This was a noise made by a fully grown human forcefully and very slowly dragging their entire body across untreated wooden floorboards. There was a sharp bang, followed by a heavy whoosh. It made my skin crawl.
Isabella grabbed for my arms and I jumped with fright.
“We have to let father hear this. This has only ever happened while he was in town. I couldn’t tell him before, because I was afraid that he wouldn’t believe me. Now is my opportunity.”
I nodded, ran to her desk and grabbed the oil lamp. I lit the lamp and handed it to her.
“Find uncle and I will wake Thomas, maybe we can get to the bottom of this.”
I ran back to my room to grab another lamp and made my way to Thomas’ room. I knocked. Then I knocked louder. I began calling his name to no avail.
Bewildered I made my way to uncle’s quarters only to find them dark and empty. I was a few steps from the main staircase when I heard Isabella calling me.
“Bella, did you find uncle?”
“No. Did you find Mr. Hartwell?”
“There was no answer at his door. What is going on?”
“Liddy, father’s office. Take a look.” I met her on the last step, “Father wasn’t in his room, so I checked his study. The door was closed and there was a light coming from underneath. I knocked, called his name and turned the doorknob. At that moment the light was extinguished, and I found the room empty. Liddy, I have a bad feeling about this.”
…
**From the short story Females Feed at Night**
