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Dark Sonata Page 26


  Movement to her left caught her eye and she could see the start of the carriages making their way down the extended drive. She needed to hurry. By God Ezra could already be here.

  Victoria made her way to the side of the manor and noticed the carriage line stacking up. They were hurrying, she only assumed, for they didn’t want to get stuck in the mud, the rain being so relentless. Her cloak was completely soaked and her updo probably resembled a used mop. Or perhaps a wilted flower. She’d have to fix this immediately.

  Before turning to leave, a man on a black stallion gave her sudden pause, the vision was mindblowing. There were many men on horses but this one made her gape. She was frozen in place, her heart jumping into a frantic rhythm. Something just occurred to her, a huge problem she had overlooked.

  She had no memory of what Ezra looked like. Just the descriptions in her book, the images her mind conjured up. Good God, he could look completely different to what she pictured. Descriptions were just that, descriptions. Ezra had dark hair, silver eyes, and was very handsome according to her book. That could paint a thousand different pictures! She had no idea how big his nose was, forehead, or even how his eyes were set compared to his face! He could be anybody!

  Oh dear.

  Victoria stared at the rider as his magnificent mount came closer to the entrance. He was bypassing all of the large carriages, cutting the line to get to the front. Victoria stood in the shadows trying to mold herself within the darkness so she could get a better look, ignoring the thrashing weather. This could be him. She felt so nervous, it was like seeing one’s fantasy come to life. The man she apparently defied the laws of destiny to save may be right in front of her.

  Her eyes were wide and glued to him.

  His horse reared up as the footmen took the reins to calm the beast so the mystery man could dismount. He was tall, powerful. She could tell because he dwarfed the poor footman who struggled to keep this monstrous horse calm, pulling it towards the direction of the stables. Victoria barely saw the footman’s struggle for she was focused on him. He took off his gray top hat and her spirits instantly plummeted. He had very pale hair, not black. Victoria bit her lip in irritation and kept staring, unable to take her eyes from the man.

  Good Lord he was handsome.

  That was an understatement. He looked like a god, like an angel. That thought made her eyes widen. Of course! Michael. This had to be him for no other human male could possess that beauty.

  She frowned as she watched him converse with a man who was steering traffic. Her book didn’t seem to do Michael justice in the description department. And, she didn’t remember her reaction to Michael being this, how should she put it, intrigued.

  Odd notion.

  He turned and she could see a frown on his face, he was looking for something. Victoria bit her lip and tried to sink more into the shadows, hoping he didn’t spot her for he was looking her way. Even from here she could see the ice blue gaze which was ridiculous because it was dark and storming. Maybe she just imagined it. He put his hands on his hips and suddenly their gazes clashed. Mercy.

  She stopped breathing.

  Drat.

  Double drat.

  Would Michael recognize her like he predicted?! He was staring her so intensely and she seemed to be frozen in place. Her body did not want to move or express any emotion whatsoever. Michael slightly bowed in her direction.

  Oh.

  He nodded towards the house, and gave her a serious, knowing look. Michael knew, thank God. The clock is ticking, she reminded herself. There had to be a servant’s access. Victoria needed to get inside and freshen up as fast as possible. She had to look perfect for when and if Ezra arrived. She would meet Michael when she was ready then they could come up with a plan of action.

  Finding the back doorway was not difficult for the servants were running about trying to get everything in order for this was her cousin’s big day, she remembered. Victoria stood in the long hallway, dripping wet, trying her damnedest to search her blank memories for where her room was. Double damn. She had no idea where to even go, let alone recognize anyone’s faces. A couple of maids bumped into her carrying linens probably thinking she was a part of the staff.

  “Get on with it then!” a woman hissed behind her.

  Victoria turned to stare at an irate redhead, her cheeks flushed and her brows furrowed together in impatience. The woman’s emerald gaze suddenly widened as she looked her up and down. “Miss! I beg yer pardon, there ye’ are! I been ‘ooking all over fer ye.”

  She tried to think as fast as she could. “Well, here I am,” she said lamely and held up her hands, as if to prove that fact.

  “M’lady.” Her concerned tone was evident, “Why ye soaked? And what the devil are ye wearin’?”

  “Take me to my room and help me get dry,” she ordered and thought hard for a name. Red hair and Irish. “Sonya?”

  “Aye, come with me. You look different miss,” her wide gaze searched her face, “Ye look much different that is for sure. What have ye done? Where did ye’ get such fabric? It ‘ooks to be the devil’s own.”

  Victoria smiled and looked around nervously. “Just take me to my room.”

  Sonya nodded, seeming mystified, studying her intently. She led her through countless hallways finally making it to a large staircase that she only assumed led to the ladies quarters. Victoria was thankful that only her memories were stripped from her, not her entire brain. “Has the ball started?” Victoria asked, praying that Ezra was already here.

  “Aye, Lady Henrietta was lookin’ fer ye. She didn’t seem happy that ye were not in yer room.” Sonya turned to glance back at her, her generous hips swaying. “Ye bess not been seen as ye are now. That dress will make her furious.”

  Victoria huffed.

  “There you are!” the shrill voice cracked.

  Sonya whipped around along with Victoria. What she saw, she was only guessing, was her less-than-happy dear cousin. Henrietta was dressed in a deep purple velvet gown and enough lace to outfit three grown women. The large hoopskirt almost touched both sides of the hallway with the amount of fabric used. Her meager breasts were pushed to capacity in a daring square neckline that was lined with jewels.

  “Henrietta.” Victoria chanced.

  Her eyes were assessing Victoria with rage seeping from her every pore. Henrietta’s face flushed as she continued to appraise her. “That’s Lady to you! Where the devil were you?”

  “I was,” she thought. ”Outside.”

  No shit.

  It seemed her vocabulary is quite colorful now.

  “What were you doing outside when I needed you in here?” she questioned darkly as she walked up to her, her dress swishing. “Whoring about were you?” Her green gaze eyed the ruby dress underneath her wet cloak. “What are you wearing?! Did you steal that?!” she accused, throwing her cloak open to look at it.

  Henrietta gasped, covering her mouth.

  “Lovely isn’t it?” Victoria said through gritted teeth.

  “What the—take it off! You will not wear … a stolen garment to my birthday!” Her gaze rose to Victoria’s. “I shall see you punished for this. I knew you were up to no good when I couldn’t find you—”

  Victoria held up her hand, clenching her fist in rage. She slowly took off her choker and smiled at Henrietta. She was definitely not the same timid Victoria from a lifetime ago.

  “How dare you interrupt me! You little fool!” Her face was red with rage.

  “Please my Lady,” Sonya pleaded beside them. “Lady Victoria is a little under the weather! She knows not what she says!”

  Victoria could feel her heart beating in her head and tunnel vision starting to set in. Henrietta slapped her hard across the face but somehow she didn’t feel it, only hearing the sound of rushing water. As if something possessed her, she reached out and grabbed Henrietta’s neck and slammed her against the wall, cracking it. Victoria leaned closely and whispered in her dear cousin’s ear, “Touch me a
gain bitch and I will squeeze the life right out of you right now. Don’t. Tempt. Me! Understand?”

  Henrietta’s gaze was bulging as Victoria tightened her grip, feeling incredibly powerful.

  “Witch …” her muffled voice barely got out as tears streamed down her cheeks.

  “Damn right I am.” Victoria looked her directly in the eye and noticed her hand was turning green where she gripped Henrietta’s frail neck. “I will kill you if I ever hear you talking down to someone again. I will know when you do so and I will come for you. Your Daddy will be helpless as he watches you die from suffocation as I break every bone in your neck,” she hissed. “Do we have a deal? You play nice, and I will not kill you. Witchy enough for you?”

  Henrietta nodded as more tears gushed out her eyes.

  “Good.” Victoria released her and leaned in to whisper. “Now go play.”

  She took off like a bat out of hell, knocking over a footman in her haste. Victoria turned to the stunned Sonya who was currently making the sign of the cross with her hand.

  “Sonya?” Victoria asked and sighed, putting back on her choker.

  Sonya just stared at her, her mouth falling open.

  “I have a lot to tell you in a very short amount of time.”

  Chapter eighteen

  Something was wrong.

  Victoria stared out of her bed chamber window and wondered why everything seemed so different from before. She rolled her eyes. Yes, she understood that when she jumped through time things would change but not to this degree. It was freezing like before, the party was humming and she was sure it was a hit. The laughter and the symphony were audible, vibrating the walls telling her that nothing was amiss on the outside. There were no rabid dogs and her horse was not possessed but slept peacefully in the stables according to Sonya.

  Why did everything seem so normal.

  She felt the evil outside when she first arrived but now it was like it was gone. Completely disappeared. Victoria closed her eyes and placed a palm on the icy window, trying to feel. I know you’re there.

  “Miss, what was the future like?” Sonya’s small voice spoke behind her.

  Victoria turned and smiled at Sonya’s wide stare, relieved that the woman believed her fantastic story of time travel.

  She shrugged. “I do not know. I only know what was written Sonya.”

  Her emerald gaze became serious. “How do ye know what was written is right? A lot of faith ye puttin’ into this.”

  “I know, but I have no choice but to believe. I need to find Michael, he will hopefully know who I am,” she said, feeling less confident than before.

  “Saint Michael is here?!” she wailed, hopping about in a dramatic fashion, muttering prayers. “’Tis too much to take in thy mind.” She sobered, “Aye, but ye don’t think ’tis all a trick, do ye?”

  The question rang high in the air and shot an army of goosebumps down Victoria’s spine. “Michael would not do that, he is pure.”

  Sonya nodded but her eyes held fear. Doubt.

  “I need to find him.” Victoria turned and peered into the long mirror, the ruby-red of the dress was eerily beautiful. Sonya had dried her pale hair and fixed it into a beautiful updo with ringlets falling down her back.

  Oh dear.

  She was no innocent, too seductive ... Too bold ...

  “I’ve not seen fabric like that in all meh life,” she whispered and made eye contact with Victoria. “Ye ‘ook like someone who is not real.”

  “Say a prayer for me,” Victoria continued as she headed for the door.

  “Aye, you be needin’ more than that.”

  * * * * *

  The lights were low and intimate, casting a romantic glow down the long corridors. The candles flickered with the shifting wind currents as she walked past. She had an uneasy feeling, as if the walls watched her every move, every breath. It was like this impending doom circled around her raising the hairs on the back of her neck. She couldn’t help but be nervous, dreading the unknown, fearing what waited around the next corner.

  Though she would admit that her curiously was piqued on why Michael had not shown himself to her yet. She was certain he would have sought her out immediately. He must sense her coming even now, for he seemed like he had recognized her from the way he stared at her earlier.

  Michael said he would know everything so really, there was no time to waste explaining. Victoria rounded the last corner to see ladies and gentlemen coming and going. Faces were masked in a wide array of colors and styles camouflaging themselves, not that she would have recognized anyone without them. Victoria couldn’t help the shiver as she glanced around. It was odd seeing this, for this was once her beginning; this was where she grew up and lived day by day.

  She was a ripple in time, a memory, an unfinished story. Her blue gaze searched the people of the ballroom, laughing, eating, and having no idea what was happening. Victoria was only a flicker of the future, an empty shell. She didn’t belong here, Victoria realized, as she scanned the gentlemen in their finery and the delicate ladies giggling behind fluttering fans.

  Her nerves were taking flight as she started to gain attention. Frowns and whispers were being directed at her, eyeing her gown with wide, assessing eyes.

  She paused, trying to find her courage, her bravery, the reason why she was here. Voices were obnoxious with their drunken slurs and mocking laughter that echoed off the towering walls of the foyer. A woman laughed horribly loud to her right making her flinch. Somewhere a tiny dog was barking uncontrollably and a pale footman who was no doubt searching for it helplessly was on his hands and knees cursing. Victoria took a breath as she scanned the room. A man with his cravat halfway undone spilled his champagne as he slapped some poor sod’s back in the heat of his amusement. Bodies were swarming in and out of the ballroom taking up the entry way as if the entire population of London was present.

  It was suffocating.

  Suddenly the sound of a violin rang high over the muddled voices and muted laughter causing her to stop in her tracks. The resonance made her skin tingle. She didn’t know who played the sound but it reminded her of something dark, something seductive. Even the symphony paled in comparison to the singular sound.

  Very curious indeed for it could possibly be Ezra. He was known for his musical skills as a violinist. A shiver licked her body.

  But once she entered the giant ballroom it was like even the liquor couldn’t keep Basingstoke’s polite society distracted long enough not to notice her. She walked in without being announced and she didn’t care, she was on a mission. Be damned if anyone stood in her way. She needed to find Michael and get a plan in motion. She looked around the glittering ballroom with a pounding heart. Was Ezra here? God, had he seen her already? More importantly, would she recognize Ezra if she saw him? Most likely he wore a mask for she didn’t see anyone who didn’t. That thought made her more nervous because she didn’t know if she would recognize him without one, on let alone with.

  She wanted to lure Ezra, cut to the chase, and reel him in on her line. Who knows what impact she created with this time jump. It would be devastating if he found her unappealing this time around. Victoria walked carefully, swaying her hips and batting her eyes at anyone who dared look her way.

  Ladies still whispered and men blinked at her, as if to clear their fogged minds of the vision before them. Victoria smiled boldly at them and put on the plain black mask Sonya had given to her ever so gracefully. Her every move was being watched—analyzed. She could feel it like a bug being tortured under a magnifying glass. Jealous gazes were glued to the vividness of her ruby dress, as if it possessed an unnatural appeal. She was certain it did for she felt so scandalous, so alive in it. Michael seemed to know what he was doing when he made this for her. If Ezra spotted her he would know instantly it was her.

  Victoria took a champagne glass and sipped it while she walked, eyes searching everyone, everything. Men seemed to be nervous to approach her and the women were terrifi
ed to be seen with her. Oh she was scandal alright; almost positive Henrietta told everyone what she did to her in the hallway. The witch. She cared not, it actually made her smile. She didn’t belong here anymore so she cared not. Her gaze paused on every tall male, desperately searching for someone muscular, incredibly handsome and eyes the color of steel. Hair the shade of a raven’s wing drowned in the moonlight …

  She shook her head, trying not to fantasize too much.

  Her heart started to pound as she faltered. The gothic décor and the low lighting made it a perfect place to hide within the shadows. But there it was, the deep vibration of something wholly evil—a black void disrupting the air. She was aware.

  She was being watched.

  She felt it.

  Something powerful. She searched desperately for a set of silver eyes. “Pissing hell,” she whispered, heart thundering. It was unnerving feeling someone watching her and not being able to tell who it was. Everyone appeared like they were lost in their own mirth, completely oblivious to her in this moment. Victoria turned around, not seeing anyone zoned in on her. Why then did it feel like she was under assessment? Then a thought occurred to her, maybe Ezra was more normal then she envisioned, fantasized. God, he could look like an average English gentlemen and she wouldn’t know it. Here she was looking for a God-like creature and he could look completely ordinary. The descriptions in her book were just her perception of him, not what he actually looked like to someone who had succumbed to his charms. Good God.

  Victoria visibly swallowed as she glanced around, something didn’t feel right.

  Michael where are you?!

  Frustrated she turned and smashed into what felt like a brick wall. Stunned she looked up into an imposing figure. Mercy. It took a second for her eyes to adjust to what she was looking at. Victoria sucked in her breath and widened her eyes. This man was not wearing a mask, his face being illuminated by the hanging chandler. Shining aqua eyes stared back at her so intensely she felt her skin tingle from the boldness. The man looked like a Greek god with his brilliant golden hair and radiant skin. His lips were sinfully full and his gaze could only be described as arresting for she could not look away if she tried. Heat crept up her neck and burned her cheeks under her mask.