Descent Into Dust by Jacqueline Lepore Read Free Book Online Page B

doll. Too haughty.”
    I did laugh then before I could catch myself.
    “Darling,” Mary said to Roger, pointedly ignoring her brother-in-law, “do you have an ancestor named Marius? Perhaps she saw a painting in the gallery.”
    “I’m afraid I do not know offhand,” Roger said. “But that still does not answer where she learned chess.”
    I caught the look on Mr. Fox’s face just then. It seemed to me to be chillingly absent of any discernible emotion, and yet his eyes, glittering black as they swept the company around the table, were sharp with interest.
    Immediately after the meal was concluded, I returned to the third floor, where I found Henrietta seated by the window with a book on her lap. The puddle of sunlight angling through the leaded panes gilded her curls, setting them agleam like an angel’s, but her eyes were steady and somber as I greeted her.
    “She’s feeling a bit poorly,” Miss Harris informed me. “A quiet afternoon is in order, I should say.”
    “Every afternoon is quiet,” Henrietta said, turning back to her book. “And very long.”
    Hunkering down in front of the child, I took her hand in mine. “You aren’t very happy about being shut up inside, I see. Maybe that is what has you in the doldrums.”
    She lifted a slender shoulder in a pretense of diffidence, but I knew I’d struck on her problem.
    Miss Harris’s voice took on an uncharacteristic stridency. “Her father doesn’t wish her to go outside because of the illness.”
    “Yes, but maybe if we stay away from the village it will be all right. And we do not have to be out very long, just a nice brisk walk to put some color back in your cheeks. I’m sure your papa wouldn’t mind.” I considered the dappled light outside, then smiled down at Henrietta. “The day is getting milder, so it would seem the weather is inviting us. What do you say?” Henrietta smiled and nodded.
    The nursemaid tried to protest but I cut her off. “It is settled, then. We will not be long. Hen, go fetch your boots and grab Victoria.”
    Henrietta shook her head. “She’s left me.”
    Miss Harris clucked. “I’m afraid we’ve misplaced Victoria.”
    “We shall look for her when we get back,” I promised, and went to fetch my shawl. I would take her toward Overton. That path cut nowhere near any crofter’s cottage or farm and, as I’d been there before, there could be no question of our losing our way.
    We would, however, pass near The Sanctuary. In the broadlight of day, the thought of seeing it again made me feel strangely excited. I suppose I was eager to prove there was nothing to be afraid of, that whatever fancy had gripped me temporarily was quite done with.
    We had a happy walk, for Henrietta came alive like a wilted flower reviving in the sunlight. The air held that certain crispness that comes after long rains, and it had a renewing effect on me as well. I inhaled deeply of the sweet breeze and my head felt clear. The sound of Henrietta’s laughter floated around me as she skipped and leapt at my side.
    When Marius’s tree came into view, my heart gave a great surge, and I could not prevent myself from scanning the tall grasses around it to see if the birds were anywhere in sight. Nothing disturbed the meadow, or the wild holly bushes at its edge, not even a breeze. The long, lazy branches of a weeping willow barely made a stir. The grass was thick and deep here, and it was not easy going as we thrashed our way through.
    There was no detectable change in Henrietta as we approached, then passed, the strangely shaped hawthorn. Relief swelled in me. It had all been a bit of nonsense.
    A patch of early wildflowers occupied us for a while. I showed Henrietta how to string them together to form a daisy chain. She grew bored and wandered off to fetch more flowers. I got rather lost in figuring out the knack of tying the little blossoms. It had been some time since I’d undertaken such a winsome activity.
    When I’d finished the