Hallow House - Part One Read online

  HALLOW HOUSE: PART I

  By

  Jane Toombs

  ISBN: 978-1-926965-57-4

  PUBLISHED BY:

  Books We Love Publishing Partners

  192 Lakeside Greens Drive

  Chestermere, Alberta, T1X 1C2

  Canada

  Copyright © 2010 by Jane Toombs

  Cover Art © 2010 by Michelle Lee

  Chapter 1

  Soon after the news reached San Francisco that Ulysses S. Grant had been inaugurated as the eighteenth present of the United States, Alicia Albright received much more astounding news of her own.

  "I have accepted a proposal of marriage," Tabitha Woodward confided to her distant cousin and companion of five years standing.

  They'd been seated in the parlor of Tabitha's father's home for over an hour, each busy with a panel of needlepoint. Alicia rose and bent to embrace her cousin, wondering why she'd delayed in telling her the news.

  "I'm so happy for you," she said, sincerely, because, to tell the truth, she'd given up on Tabitha ever making a match.

  "You will, of course, continue to live with me," Tabitha told her. "I could not do without you."

  "You're most generous," Alicia murmured, relieved, for she had no other home, and no money of her own. More than that, though, she believed Tabitha right in thinking she needed Alicia with her.

  They were nearly of an age, though Tabitha had edged into thirty while it still lay ahead for Alicia, who was plump and practical, while Tabitha was frail and dreamy.

  "You haven't yet told me who your future husband is to be," Alicia said, though she knew who he must be. There'd been no other suitor beside Boris Gregory, a bachelor of some forty years, well established as a San Francisco business man.

  The contrast between refined Massachusetts-bred Tabitha and this diamond-in-the-rough Russian emigrant, whose family name was once Gregorovitch, was extreme. Still, the match was logical. Alicia could understand why Mr. Gregory might wish to raise his social standing in San Francisco by offering for the hand of a gently bred woman from a prominent New England family and she also knew enough by now to realize why Tabitha's father would favor the offer.

  The dreamy look in Tabitha's eyes puzzled her, though. Mr. Gregory had acquired a patina of manners, but his rough edges showed, making him the kind of man she'd have thought her refined cousin might shrink from accepting.

  "You've met Mr. Gregory," Tabitha said, "so I needn't describe him to you." She sighed. "I can envision him in Cossack regalia sweeping across the steppes on a magnificent and spirited black steed. Can't you?"

  "He has certainly made a success since coming to California," Alicia said rather primly, not wanting to admit she, too, could picture him that way,

  Tabitha waved a dismissing hand. "I leave the dull financial details to my father. Do you not think Mr. Gregory has the most fascinating dark eyes? So brooding." She inserted her needle into the fabric and clasped her hands, bringing them up for her cheek to rest on. "I must admit to a thrill when he looks at me."

  While it was true Mr. Gregory's dark foreign looks were remarkable, Alicia hadn't supposed Tabitha had been so affected by him. Perhaps it was as well her cousin was enthusiastic about the match, for her father quite likely would have insisted on it, in any case, this being the sole offer for his daughter's hand.

  Still, Alicia had an uneasy feeling that no man, least of all a self-made one like Mr. Gregory, could possibly fulfill her cousin's excessively romantic fantasies.

  Not an hour later, Mr. Woodward took Alicia aside. "I know my daughter has told you of the impending nuptials," he said. "You will, of course, be accompanying her to Hallow House."

  "Hallow House?"

  "Mr. Gregory's name for the mansion he's building southeast of the city. He feels the place will be sacred to him and Alicia, hence the name. The wedding ceremony itself will be held in a nearby church and the reception at the mansion."

  "It's an unusual name."

  "Mr. Gregory is an unusual man. He has become fascinated with the English language and customs. Also I believe his choice has to do with his native religion, a form of Catholicism, I believe. He has made a most generous settlement on Tabitha, which shows his kind nature. She will do well in his hands."

  Alicia nodded, reserving her doubts. Whatever virtues Tabitha's husband-to-be might prove to have, nothing in his bearing or speech indicated kindness would be one of them.

  "Naturally, you will not feel it necessary to mention anything about my daughter's little spells," Mr. Woodward went on. "I feel certain once she settles in with her husband they'll become a thing of the past."

  "I had no intention of doing so," Alicia said, a trifle indignantly.

  He offered her one of his cold New England smiles. Even though her connection with the family came from his side, Alicia had never been able to warm to "Cousin Henry," nor would she have dreamed of calling him anything but Mr. Woodward.

  "You may be assured I'll do everything I can to ensure Tabitha's happiness," she told him, meaning every word. She couldn't imagine any situation where she wouldn't be firmly on Tabitha's side.

  "Family loyalty is a precious jewel," Mr. Woodward said piously. "With you and Mr. Gregory to look after my dear child's welfare, I shall return to Massachusetts with a light heart."

  Alicia had a sudden, unkind vision of him dropping Tabitha into Mr. Gregory's lap in much the same way he might dispose of an unwanted kitten by abandoning it on a stranger's doorstep.

  "I will, of course, miss my only child," he added belatedly.

  She didn't believe him. They'd come here, the three of them, so Tabitha might find a husband, San Francisco being far enough away from Massachusetts so it was to be hoped no rumors that state might reach a prospective husband. Alicia had supposed Mr. Woodward meant to stay near his daughter once he'd accomplished his purpose. Instead he meant to cut and run. How cruel. Unfair as well, for both Tabitha and Mr. Gregory.

  Never mind. She'd watch out for Tabitha.

  ***

  Hallow House was finished in early November, some nine months after the proposal of marriage had been made and accepted. Alicia couldn't fault Mr. Gregory's attendance on Tabitha in the interim. As often as business permitted, he took her for rides in his carriage or outings by the ocean, with Alicia as chaperone.

  Though he paid polite attention to Tabitha at all times, occasionally Alicia was disturbed by something in his gaze when those dark eyes rested on her. She made herself believe it was her imagination and tried to forget the thrill she felt when this happened.

  During these months, he often mentioned the progress of the mansion and Alicia came to realize, though it might be southeast of the city, there were many miles in between. The Hallow House site was in a valley by the foothills of the Sierra Nevada, in the central part of the state.

  When at last came November 22, the wedding day. Mr. Woodward, Tabitha and Alicia, traveled the day before to the village of Porterville, where arrangements had been made for them to be put up in a small hostelry where they were the only guests. Though far from a luxurious inn, it was adequate and they could fault neither the food nor the service, extra help having been laid on for their convenience.

  The ceremony was to be held in the village's little Catholic church. Alicia's fear it might not accommodate all the guests was unfounded. Other than herself and Mr. Woodward, the only people present were Boris Gregory's business partner, Richard Fennel, and an elderly woman introduced as Boris's aunt, Metta Gregory.

  A strange and sparse wedding party, Alicia couldn't help thinking as the priest began the ceremony. Given Mr. Gregory's wealth and the Woodward background, she had expected something far more elaborate, with dozens of we
althy guests.

  Tabitha, pale and slender, her fair hair covered by lace veiling, looked almost pretty. Her big gray eyes stared transfixed at the groom, who was certainly handsome in his formal clothes. Alicia, herself, was the recipient of at least one admiring glance from Mr. Fennel, making her wonder why. She was too plump for beauty and possessed no distinguishing features, though she'd been once been told her face was "pleasant."

  After the ceremony, the small wedding party entered carriages to make the journey to Hallow House, some distance from the village as it turned out. By the time they reached the magnificent white-painted mansion with its two unusual onion towers shining in the sun, Alicia realized the place was completely isolated, with no other habitation near.

  The bride and groom preceded the others up the steps onto a wide porch, passing between two columns where Boris gallantly lifted his new wife and carried her over the threshold.

  Tabitha screamed.

  Alicia hurried through the door to find Tabitha limp and unresponsive in her husband's arms.

  "We must get her onto her bed," Alicia told him, praying that her cousin had merely fainted and was not about to have one of what Mr. Woodward referred to as "her little spells." Finally alone with Tabitha, who lay on a bed in a large, richly appointed upstairs bedroom, Tabitha brought out the smelling salts she always carried in her reticule. Wafting them under Tabitha's nose, she called her cousin's name.

  Tabitha's eyelids fluttered and opened, her large gray eyes staring in alarm at what would be strange surroundings to her.

  "We're at Hallow House," Alicia said soothingly, "in your very own bedroom. You fainted."

  Tabitha's gaze fixed on her. "Did you hear it?" she asked breathlessly.

  "Hear what?"

  "The voice. As I was carried across the threshold, it whispered, "There's no escape."

  "I wasn't inside yet," Alicia said, her heart sinking. "So I heard nothing." This wasn't the first time Tabitha had insisted she heard voices whispering to her at times when there was no one present.

  "This house doesn't want me here," Tabitha cried, clutching at Alicia's hand.

  "I don't think that's true, dear cousin. You know your husband built Hallow House as a sacred place for his new bride. This is your house, meant for you."

  Tabitha closed her eyes. After a time she opened them and said. "If that's true, then I'll have to build myself a sanctuary within these walls, a place that is mine alone, where I'm safe."

  "I'm sure Mr. Gregory will be more than accommodating to any wish of yours," Alicia said as reassuringly as she could. "Right now, though, why don't we think about you changing from your bridal gown into something suitable for the wedding reception downstairs?"

  Tabitha sat up. "Oh, heavens, what will Boris think? You're right, I am remiss. I must go down and play hostess. I don't know what I should do without you, Cousin Alicia."

  Fortunately, the episode was attributed by everyone except Alicia and Mr. Woodward to the wearisome travel and the excitement of the wedding.

  He took Alicia aside at his first opportunity and said, "She trusts you, what a blessing. I hope you will never think of leaving her."

  Alicia didn't state the obvious--with indifferent looks and no money, who would wish to marry her?--and said, "I'm very fond of Tabitha."

  "I shall take my leave in the morning, no doubt before the newlyweds arise. I trust you to be tactful in telling Tabitha I was unable to say my farewells to her in person."

  He was going to sneak off without even a goodbye?

  "I shan't return," he went on. "My fondest wish has been realized in seeing my child happily wed. Her husband has assumed the responsibility for her now, and I shan't intrude."

  What a hypocrite he was! Alicia understood perfectly well he meant that he'd shucked Tabitha forever and was getting away as soon as possible. Boris Gregory would have to deal with any problems that arose. And she greatly feared they would. She could only hope he'd prove to be an understanding man who loved his wife enough to be kind.

  Alicia shook her head. As she'd noted before, Boris's dark eyes, expressive as they were, held nothing of kindness. Did he love Tabitha? Time would tell.

  ***

  For several months everything went well. Boris stayed at Hallow House, making only short visits to his business in San Francisco. He was attentive to an enchanted Tabitha, raising Alicia's hopes that everything was going to be all right, that maybe Mr. Woodward had been correct in his assumption that all Tabitha needed was a husband. Perhaps her cousin's heredity wouldn't prove to be a problem, after all.

  If she hadn't caught Boris's intent gaze on her every now and then, Alicia would have been content. The problem lay in her own response to whatever she imagined she saw in his eyes. Still, it was nothing she couldn't keep under control. In March, Boris departed for what he told them would be a month's stay, since he was overseeing the construction of a new plant in Sacramento.

  "I'm considering a new name for the canned food part of the business," he said at breakfast on the day of departure. "What do you think of Lobo?"

  "I'm sure it will be fine," Tabitha said, admiringly. “You are most clever."

  Alicia, who had assumed the role of housekeeper since her cousin had no desire to deal with the details of running the house, had been learning a bit of Spanish from the Mexican servants in order to communicate better with them. "I believe that means wolf in Spanish," she said.

  He smiled. "You're quite right. It commemorates the wolves on the gate posts that guard the entrance to the drive of Hallow House."

  Not for the first time, Alicia noticed he himself could be described as having a wolfish appearance. She found this both frightening and attractive.

  "The word is also designed to appeal to the Spanish populace," he added, "as well as appealing to the rest of us."

  "Why did you place the wolves on the posts?" Alicia asked.

  He fixed his dark gaze on her. "I am Russian. To us wolves represent all that is fierce, crafty and watchful. I admire those qualities, and they are there s a warning to all who pass though our gates that this is our sacred place and those who wish us ill must suffer the consequences. Sacred, yes, but if a man does not remain vigilant, he will never succeed. I came off the Russian ship over twenty years ago, a starving wolf. Now I have everything I want. Or almost."

  Did she imagine that hungry gleam in his eyes? Alicia looked away.

  "Wolves on the gate posts?" Tabitha put in. "I don't believe I've noticed them."

  "They're of the finest pink marble," he told her. "You must take a walk while I'm gone and see them."

  "Oh, yes, Alicia and I will do that."

  After Boris was gone, Tabitha , with downcast eyes, confided that she thought she might be with child.

  "You're going to have a baby?" Alicia said. "How wonderful."

  "It will be a son for Boris, of course," Tabitha said. "That's why he married me, you know."

  Thinking the remark odd, Alicia said, "I believe most men desire sons."

  "I shan't disappoint him. Not ever."

  What the cook, a woman named Agnes Tuttle from the nearest town of Porterville, called a "tule fog" settled in the day after Boris left. It was nothing like ocean fogs both women remembered from Massachusetts and San Francisco, but a thick grayness that hung like a pall over the countryside.

  "This fog imprisons us," Tabitha said. "Boris took all the brightness with him when he left."

  A bit fanciful, but Alicia understood her feeling. She herself was unaccountably dispirited.

  When, four days later, on the second day of April, the sun broke through, Tabitha clapped her hands like a child. "Now that the day is fair, we must take the walk to the gate posts to see the wolves."

  The day was not only sunny, but pleasantly warm, a beautiful spring day as the two women, suitably attired in bonnets and gloves, ventured along the drive.

  "Do you ever miss the city?" Alicia asked. Though they'd led a quiet life in San Franc
isco , still they had taken in the sights and occasionally gone shopping. Here there was nothing to do other than needlepoint.

  "When Boris is at home, there is nothing to miss," Tabitha said, smiling. She placed a hand over her lower abdomen. "And soon we'll have a son to keep us company."

  Though she knew little about child bearing, Alicia had heard many women suffered unpleasant symptoms when carrying a child--nausea and light-headedness among them. Tabitha was already showing a definite bulge, but had been remarkably healthy so far. She hadn't had a single strange turn, either. If only it lasted.

  They reached the end of the drive, stopped and examined the snarling wolves crouched atop the posts.

  "How fierce they look," Tabitha said. "Quite frightening. I do admire the pink marble, though." As they walked back toward the house, she added, "I believe I'd like a St. Francis statue done in that same lovely marble."

  "A charming idea. Perhaps you might have a grotto built among those pines."

  "Yes, with animals around the statue and a bird perched on his shoulder. I shall speak to Boris about it when he returns. We might--" she paused and reached a hand to stop Alicia. "Do your hear that strange noise? Whatever can it be?"

  Alicia did hear something odd. A rattle? She knew there were rattlesnakes in the area, but this seemed to be coming from a distance. Quite near the house, she judged.

  "I can't tell what's causing it," she told Tabitha. "Since we don't know, it's best if I take you inside and send a man to investigate."

  "No. I must see for myself."

  Alicia bit her lip. Though Tabitha was usually tractable, when she slipped into one of her spells, she was sometimes impossible to reason with. Alicia hoped this was merely a whim and nothing else.

  "You must think of the child you carry," she said firmly, taking her cousin's arm. "Come, we'll go round to the front of the house and--"

  Tabitha pulled away. "The sound is not in that direction. I want to discover what it is."