The Mercer's House (Northern Gothic Book 1) by Antonia Frost Read Free Book Online Page B

woman in question lived. Come up to the turret room, and I’ll tell you all about it. It’s not really a turret room, obviously, but when one’s up there at the top of the house, it almost seems like a turret, so that’s what we call it.’
    ‘You’ve got him on his pet subject now,’ said Will. ‘Just nod and smile.’
    Alexander had already stood up.
    ‘I’d really like to hear the story,’ said Zanna. She put down her wine and followed him into the house. Will glanced at Corbin, who gave a gesture of dismissal, and came after them. Alexander led them up the stairs to the top floor. Up here, near the skylight in the roof, it was very bright, and Zanna noted the dusty, worn carpet and the dirty, peeling paint. Alexander opened a door at the end of the landing and went in. Zanna stood in the doorway, then felt Will’s presence close behind her and stepped out of the way to let him in.
    ‘This is what we call the turret room,’ said Alexander.
    ‘I can see why,’ said Zanna, looking around. In reality, it was little more than an attic room, but it was oddly laid out—almost hexagonal in shape, with a higher ceiling than might have been expected up here under the roof. The only window was tall and narrow, and when the door was closed the room was dark and gloomy. A few odd pieces of furniture stood against the wall, but the room was too impractical a shape to be used as anything other than an occasional bedroom. Zanna went over to the window, which looked out onto the rocky outcrop, and saw the rock on which she had sat sketching earlier.
    ‘Who was the woman?’ she said.
    ‘It’s rather a tragic tale,’ said Alexander, ‘and goes back to 1806. At the time this house was owned by a silk merchant, or mercer, named Jonas Humble, who was married to a much younger woman by the name of Sarah. The story goes that she married him against her will, on the orders of her family, and that the two of them lived here. Now, Jonas was away on business very often, leaving his wife alone for much of the time—which was a mistake on his part, because she took his absences as an opportunity to begin an affair with a young man whom she had loved and would have married had her family not had other plans for her. I don’t know how long this went on, but inevitably one day Jonas, who by all accounts was a hard, cruel man, returned home unexpectedly and caught them in flagrante delicto . He said nothing, but took his gun, pointed it at them both, and gave his wife a stark choice: her life or that of her lover. Sarah begged and pleaded, but he was immovable, and at last, seeing that he was serious, she told him through her sobs to take the lover.’
    ‘Oh!’ said Zanna in surprise.
    ‘Yes,’ said Alexander. ‘It seems she wasn’t quite prepared to sacrifice herself for him. But in any case, her selfishness sealed her fate, because Jonas raised his gun and shot the young man through the heart, and then told Sarah, as she screamed and wept over the bloody corpse, that a woman who could betray not only her husband but also her lover did not deserve to live. He made her kneel and beg forgiveness from God, and then drove her at gunpoint outside and down the path to the beach. It was a grey, cold, early morning in November, and the tide was on its way out, and he forced her, still wearing her bloodstained nightdress, out into the sea. Further and further out he drove her, his gun levelled at her all the while, until she began to beg him to have pity, or the tide would take them both. He replied that it was all the same to him; he had lived a godly life and had no fear of death, but in his final moments he would gain some satisfaction from thinking of the hellfire which awaited his unfaithful wife. At last the water was neck-deep and Sarah could go no further in, and the waves began to wash over her head and she started to flounder. Still she pleaded, and still he was immovable, and at last, gasping and sobbing, she held her arms