1802
Wind whipped across the violent sea. Dark clouds raced up the coast, bringing with them an impending storm. Lightning tore through the night sky as thunder boomed overhead.
Hidden in the house’s secret chamber, one meager flame fought to keep the darkness at bay. The hurricane lamp’s light danced off the gold bars scattered on the floor. More gold glinted in the scant light as Henrietta pulled open a wooden chest. She snatched one of the bejeweled necklaces from the pile and shoved it into her dress pocket. She’d need it for the task that lay ahead of her. She’d need more, of course, but one was enough for now.
The chest slammed shut as she released the lid from her grasp. She climbed to her feet and dusted off her dress. Reaching down, she grasped the hurricane lamp and spun to leave the chamber. A chill passed through her and she shivered. She squared her shoulders and strode from the room.
Henrietta navigated through the tight corridors to the end of the passage. She located the trigger to open the hidden corridor. The bookcase swung open and away, and she stepped into the library of her home.
Whispering Manor sat seaside in the small northern town of Hideaway Bay. Henrietta had moved here after marrying Captain William Blanchard. The man flitted through her mind as she shoved the bookcase closed, masking the hidden corridor behind it.
She glanced at the clock on the mantel, ticking the time away. She had hours before her task.
Henrietta stepped into the manor’s ample foyer. She grasped hold of the intricately carved wooden banister gracing the stairs leading to the second floor.
“Jane!” Henrietta called. “Jane!” She huffed when the woman failed to appear. “Jane!” she shouted again.
A mouse of a girl appeared at the rear of the foyer. Her blonde hair was tucked into a bun at the nape of her neck. She folded her hands in front of her apron which covered her black uniform. “Yes, Mrs. Blanchard?”
“Where have you been? I’ve called three times.”
“My apologies, Mrs. Blanchard, I was scrubbing in the kitchen. With Elsie sick, I…”
“I do not wish to hear your excuses. Tea, please.”
“Yes, ma’am. Will you take it in the sitting room?”
“No, in my bedroom. I must write. I feel a case of depression coming on, and it will be all I can do to stave it off. I must pour out my emotions onto the page.”
Jane nodded at her and spun to retrieve the tea. Henrietta climbed the large staircase. She veered left at the top and entered her bedroom. Seating herself at her writing desk which overlooked a window facing the ocean, she gazed outside. The ocean’s waves churned and roiled, crashing against the beach with all the fury of the building storm.
Her mind, too, roiled, but not with the depression she’d confessed to Jane. No, she mused, that was merely a distraction. An act. She had fooled them all. And she would continue to do so.
With a half-smile, she focused her attention on her brown leather journal. It sat open to a blank page. She dipped her quill in ink and began to pen a journal entry.
She finished the entry, penning the last words
Tonight, I shall take the first steps in cementing my destiny.
As she set the quill down, a knock sounded at her door. Jane entered after she called to her.
“I am leaving for my walk before the storm hits, Mrs. Blanchard. Unless you need something,” Jane said.
Henrietta arched an eyebrow, and a smirk formed on her lips. Before she faced the girl, she let her features fall and slumped her shoulders. “Nothing else.”
Jane nodded and departed from the room, pulling the door closed behind her. Henrietta stood and gazed at the stormy sea again. It was time. Time for death.
