Chapter Text
Moon House was set rather too close to the forest for Elise’s liking. The trees seemed to loom up toward the walls, their shadows stretching out to creep over the house and cover it. Both, she knew, were only tricks of the setting sun, but that didn’t stop her from feeling unsettled. Her every instinct was to turn tail and run.
But where? Not back to the governess work her uncle’s will had plucked her from. Some girls might thrive on it, but she would rather die than have to look after children who sought to undermine what little authority she had over them. She could not follow her brothers, either. Some universities might accept women, but she doubted she would be allowed to study anything of use. More likely she would wind up as David’s housekeeper. Trailing after Martin would be even worse. What would she do on a battlefield? Only distract him, no doubt, for he would be worried about some harm befalling her. Moon House was her inheritance, and the best thing that could have happened to her. At least here, she could keep house for herself and not merely wait on someone else.
That didn’t mean she had to like where it was placed.
The woman who had brought her from the train station in her cart didn’t seem to like it either. She eyed the house distrustfully, and eyed Elise more distrustfully still as she climbed down from the cart and began collecting her things from the back. Hay clung to her bags, and she suspected they would smell faintly of animals, but that was a small thing to complain about.
“Don’t know that you’d want to stay here, Miss Garner,” the woman said after a moment, once Elise had nearly gathered everything. “You want my advice, you’d come to my home and I could get you set up teaching at our school. Hasn’t been quite right, not since Mr. Tyler run off with one of the students.”
She had waited to say that until Elise would be hard pressed to put everything back. Elise bit her tongue, pushing back that sharp remark. She was not nobility, her uncle had said in the letter, but she would be the closest thing the people had to some local baron, and she supposed she ought to try acting like one, or at least like the best version of one she could.
“I wouldn’t want to be a burden on you, ma’am,” she said. “In any case, Moon House is my inheritance. It wouldn’t be right to leave it to ruin.”
The woman scoffed. “Ruin’s the only thing it’s good for these days,” she said. “If it were up to me, I’d burn the house down.”
Elise grabbed her last bag and set it by her feet. “Why?” she asked. “Is it haunted?”
The woman looked her over sharply. It was only in that moment that Elise realized she didn’t know her name.
“Couldn’t be sure,” the woman said finally. “Some say there are ghosts there, of all the folks who’ve died miserably in the house. Others say it’s far worse.”
Tired and irritated as she was, Elise felt a shiver run up her spine. She’d heard stories. Every girl who’d ever been to a boarding school had, probably. Demons and fairies and witches and ghosts and who knew what else that might lurk in the night or in dark shadows. One of the older girls had claimed to be a witch herself and had vanished mysteriously only months later. The official story was that her family had called her back home. Elise had never been sure.
What would the official story be about her? Would her brothers hear only that, or might they know the truth?
“I’m sure it’s nothing more than superstition,” Elise said, trying to sound as prim and missish as she could. If she could convince this woman that she feared nothing, perhaps she could convince everyone else around her.
“‘Twasn’t superstition that killed your grandmother,” the woman said. “It was them.”
In spite of her better judgment, Elise turned to see where the woman pointed. She pointed to the forest, just as a flock of birds rose up from the trees like a spearhead piercing the air.
Elise shivered again. She really was rather cold. She hoped she wasn’t catching a chill.
“I’ll be careful,” she said firmly, with more conviction than she felt. “I’ll not go into the woods alone.”
“You’ll not go into them at all if you know what’s good for you.” When Elise turned again, she saw the woman looking down at her with an almost friendly expression in her eyes. “You’re sure you want this, Miss Garner? It’ll only bring you trouble, and I wouldn’t wish it on one so young. It’s worse for the young, and you do seem like a good girl.”
The greatest surprise was that the woman seemed to mean it. She was genuinely concerned for Elise’s welfare, to an extent that startled her. Elise hesitated, almost reconsidering. It wouldn’t be so bad to teach, after all. It would be work, but as long as she did the work well, the people would be good to her. She would have a home and an income, and perhaps that would be enough to support David if he should need it.
But it wouldn’t be enough for herself and David and Martin, if Martin should be injured (God forbid). Moon House could fit all of them comfortably, and the land brought along a decent inheritance besides. She had to do it, for her family.
“I’m sure,” she said, and picked up the lightest of her bags.
The woman scoffed and flicked the reins, sending the horse meandering away. Elise watched it go. If she had wanted to badly enough, she could have gone after it and caught it easily, but she had already made up her mind. Even now that she felt a little doubt, she didn’t want to go back. Her brothers needed her to do this.
She tried to tell herself that she needed to do this as well, but it didn’t feel at all convincing.
Elise looked to Moon House again and swallowed hard. For better or for worse, this was her home now. She wouldn’t walk away from it.
Hefting the bag into a firmer grasp, she made her way up the walk. It was dirty, and hardy little plants grew between the stones, stretching up to the sun. This, she told herself, would be the first thing she took care of. Anyone coming to see her house would see it at its best. She would, if at all possible, see it made beautiful before her brothers arrived.
Moon House was no less welcoming up close. Elise paused at the doorstep and stared up at the facade. It was four stories, no doubt with a cellar dug into the foundation as well, and enough wall stretching up above the last set of windows that she couldn’t help picturing a perpetually darkened attic. A shiver ran up and down her spine before settling to prickle at the nape of her neck. This was the sort of house that haunted dreams were made of, the sort of house people insisted had bodies buried all around it, and not just in the family cemetery. Now that she was right beneath it, it didn’t just loom. It towered over her, all heavy walls and thick glass windows.
Ivy crept up and around the walls, seeming an unnaturally dark shade of green. That too would go, she decided, and not just for the look of it. She was fairly certain she had heard ivy could eat away at a house and send it tumbling about the owners’ ears. Perhaps it wouldn’t happen in this generation, but there would be others to come. She had no more wish to damn them than she did to damn herself.
Elise rang the bell. For several seconds, nothing happened. When a wide-eyed footman finally opened the door, it was sudden enough that she jumped.
“My apologies,” he said, his voice as quick and sharp as insect legs. “We hadn’t expected you until tomorrow, Miss Garner.”
“I had sent word,” Elise said, and though her voice came out rather more firmly than she had meant to, she decided she didn’t mind at all. She was the mistress of the house, after all. She ought to be firm, or nothing at all would be done. “Even if I was not expected, I hope you would all be ready for me to arrive?”
“We have been ready,” the footman said, bowing quickly. He moved abruptly enough that Elise was tempted to jump each time, as though at any moment one movement might be toward her. “Perhaps not as ready as you would like, but –”
“Right now I would only like some help bringing in my things,” she said, “and a hot bath before dinner. Can both of those be arranged?”
“Of course!” he said. “Of course, miss. I’ll only – I’ll start with –” He took a step forward, as though to go for her bags, then fell back, as though second guessing that. He wavered on his feet – though even the wavering was quick – and grimaced apologetically. “I pray you won’t be angry with me, miss,” he whispered. “I was hired on recent; those who remember – those who’ve served in houses before will have a better sense of what to do. My family’s fisherfolk.”
Fisherfolk, and probably from a fair way off. Elise couldn’t help softening a bit as she looked at him. No doubt he’d come out here to get some money to provide for the family, and now he was afraid he would lose his livelihood entirely.
“What’s your name?” she asked.
“Finn,” he said. “That is, Finn O’Malley. I’ve been told servants have their names changed to things the masters and mistresses prefer to say, but I’m rather attached to my name, if it’s all the same to you.”
“Finn O’Malley is fine with me,” she said. “Run and fetch who you can to get my things; I doubt they’re in any danger of being stolen. If you catch a maid along the way, send her to draw a bath then to fetch me. I’ll wait here.” The entrance hall was a rather dull place, but not entirely inhospitable. There was a hatrack and a few chairs, and Elise set her bag on one. “I don’t know which room will be mine, but for tonight I’ll be content with any of them. I’ll do my proper looking about tomorrow.”
O’Malley looked relieved to be told exactly what was expected of him. A little color came back into his face, hiding most of his freckles. “I’ll do that, Miss,” he said. He faltered for just a moment, then set off into the house at a quick walk.
Elise let out a sigh and looked around properly. The front hall was not quite the horrendous wreck she had feared from looking up at the facade. The wallpaper was faded, but the furniture was of good quality. The wood was, at least. When she bent to touch the cushion of a chair, she found it smelled musty and felt slightly flat.
But it was home. More than that, it was her home, and that meant she could work on it.
Elise left her bag in the front hall. Someone would collect it, and they would find what room she meant to have, and they would bring it to her.
And if they did not, she supposed she would have to find some way to train them.
For the time being, she set about exploring the house.
The rest of the house – at least what she saw – was more or less the same as the front hall had been. It had been cleaned, but it was very clear it had not been properly lived in for some time. Probably the servants were all new and weren’t entirely sure what would have to be done, or how long she might stay. They wouldn’t know how to work together, the way they would in more established households. There was no telling whether they would respect her, or the housekeeper, or anyone at all.
There wasn’t even any telling whether they were present. All through the ground floor and the one above it, Elise saw no one at all. There were signs people had been present – a dusting cloth forgotten on the floor, a drinking glass left on a table with water still in it – but none of the people actually appeared.
She didn’t even see O’Malley. That sent little prickles up and down her spine.
The second floor held the bedrooms, though none that Elise peeked into had been opened for airing. The curtains were all drawn tightly, and the furniture was covered by dust cloths. The looming shapes in the darkness made her think of crouching monsters, and she did her best to put such thoughts out of her mind. Surely she would have been warned if there were any such strange things in Moon House. Surely someone would have mentioned strange things in the village. It wasn’t like the universities or the wilds. Villages were meant to be safe from oddness.
But the woman who had brought her there had been nervous about the house. She would have had a reason for it, something beyond superstition. Elise pressed her hand to the wall, trying to steady herself against the stability of the house.
Her hand came away gray with dust.
Elise did find a bedroom she rather liked, though she couldn’t say whether it was any better or worse than the others. Something about the layout simply felt less forbidding, and when she flung open the curtains, she found that it faced eastward. She would be woken by the rising sun, a prospect which appealed to her.
Rather than ringing for any of the servants – who might or might not be in the house – Elise set about pulling the covers off the furniture herself. The furnishings were all rather old, but they looked serviceable, and once the room had been given a good airing, she doubted the age would bother her in the least. It was, she decided, downright cozy. The wood of the floor was a warm brown, and the walls were papered in blue, with delicate gold and silver designs. None of the designs seemed to repeat, but she didn’t mind that so much. She was no artist, after all, and would care more about the larger look of the room than the minute details.
(Though the minute details, at least the ones she saw, were lovely. The pattern on the rug matched that on the chairs exactly.)
Someone rapped at the door.
The sound was so sudden and so unexpected in a nearly empty house that Elise jumped. She recovered quickly and hurried to the door. She opened it to find a maid standing in the hall.
At least, she assumed the girl was a maid. She was dressed in a plain black dress, and her hair was pinned back severely, but she looked terribly young, and she bobbed a little curtsy when she saw Elise. “Your bath’s ready, miss,” she said. “If you’ll come with me?”
The girl made no attempt to move. She only wavered on her feet, uncertain.
The poor thing was as new as O’Malley. Elise gave her a smile. “Thank you,” she said. “Will you tell O’Malley I’ve chosen a room for myself? I’d like my things brought here.” She only just stopped herself from adding if it’s no trouble. There would be times when she made sure she didn’t impose too much, but choosing where she slept would not be one of them.
The girl peeked past Elise into the room and nodded as though she approved. Elise was too surprised to be offended. “Of course, miss,” she said. “But your bath?”
“Lead the way.”
That was, apparently, the invitation the girl had been waiting for. She bobbed another curtsy and set off down the hall. Elise followed after her. The bathroom wasn’t far down the hall, just a few doors away, and as soon as the girl opened the door, a breeze of steam and floral scents wafted out. The mere idea of hot water had Elise almost melting with relief.
Elise turned to the girl, relieved and relaxed into a genuine smile. “Thank you,” she said, and the girl’s eyes widened in surprise. “When you have a chance, I’ll need a fresh set of clothes in here.”
The girl bobbed yet another curtsy. She must have practiced it while waiting for her to arrive. “I’ll unpack your things and bring you something to wear,” she said.
“Thank you,” Elise said again. She paused before going into the bathroom. “What’s your name?”
“Gertrude, miss,” she said. “Gertrude Fisher.”
“I’m Elise Garner.” That was probably unnecessary. It felt right to say it all the same. Perhaps, once she’d grown used to being lady of the house, she would no longer feel quite so self-conscious about whether she ought to introduce herself and how. “I’ll be ready to eat once I’ve finished my bath.”
“We haven’t a large dinner prepared,” Fisher said, “but there will be food on the table. I’ll tell the kitchen to be ready for you.”
“Thank you,” Elise said once more. It didn’t feel quite right to thank a maid so often, but neither did it feel quite wrong, either. Fisher, at least, didn’t seem to know what to do either, and there was a little bit of comfort there. She bobbed, awkward, and scurried off down the hall.
Glad to be alone, Elise closed the door behind her. She hesitated for just a moment before latching it as well. She didn’t think anyone in the household would barge in on her, let alone barge in with any intention of doing harm, but there was something unsettling about the house all the same. She would far rather know when she was alone and not have to guess.
Once she was, then, properly alone, she stripped off her travel-worn clothes and pulled all the pins from her hair. She was tempted to scatter the pins across the floor, like a proper lady might, but mastered her urge and instead piled them on a little vanity by the wall. After a moment’s guilt, she folded her clothes and set them on a chair. Fisher and the other maids – if there were other maids about – would have it as part of their job to manage those, but Elise had no intention of making things any more difficult for them than she had to.
The water was still hot by the time she finished. Elise stepped into the tub slowly, then sank in, letting the warmth soak into her body. She’d not had a bath in a tub that could fit her whole body since she was a little girl. Most of the time, she had to sit in the water, twisting and turning to scrub herself. Half the time she didn’t bother washing everything at all, only those parts that most needed it.
Sometimes she’d had to clean herself out of a basin. Compared to that, this was pure luxury.
Elise knew she would have to wash and get out at some point, but she couldn’t bring herself to leave the bath just yet. She’d been traveling for days, and while she still had work to do, now she was in a home that she could call her very own. Her brothers would never try to take it from her; they loved her too much to do so. She would never have to worry about marrying to support herself, or working, or anything beyond making sure the house itself was livable, and that surely would be easy enough.
She sank a little deeper into the water. It bobbed past the tops of her breasts now, nearing her shoulders. She sighed, feeling tension seeping out of her body, replaced by pleasant weariness. Her head felt full of warmth and the floral scents of whatever oils had been put in the water, pushing away all her various worries.
She was alone now. No one would barge in on her.
There were other things she had not done in a long while.
Elise didn’t know where that thought had come from, but once it was in her mind, she could not escape it. Her hand, drifting idly through the water, came to rest on her thigh, then slid along her skin to reach the crux of her legs. Already she throbbed there, as though her body had been waiting for just this moment for release. Her eyes fluttered shut as her fingers rubbed back and forth, pressing against the hard bone beneath her skin.
Yes…
Elise’s eyes snapped open, and she raised her head, sloshing water about with the sudden movement. The room was still empty. The door hadn’t opened.
But she was certain that hadn’t been her voice.
The heat between her legs pulsed then, insistent, and with a cry Elise pressed against it again, rubbing harder now. She hadn’t meant to, but now that she had begun, it was almost painful not to finish. She didn’t know whether anyone had heard her cry out, and she found it difficult to care. All she wanted now was a climax.
The steam shifted around her, brushing against her skin. At times it felt almost like fingers touching her, but the few times she turned to look, no one was there.
A groan slipped past her lips. She was so hungry for touch that she would imagine anything at all.
Her free hand went to her breast, and she found her nipples were already hard from the water rocking over them, exposing them to the cooler air before bathing them in warmth again. The hand between her legs slipped further. One finger, then two, slid inside herself, pumping in and out, stroking the slick walls within her as they squeezed and clung.
Yes…
Maybe someone invisible had spoken. Maybe it was only some part of her mind crying out in ecstasy over the fact that she was finally, finally indulging herself in pleasure. Maybe it was her imagination giving a word to the hiss of breath that slipped past her teeth.
Her muscles clenched around her fingers then, and she cried out once, sharp and quick, as she came. All her body seemed to go limp at once, and she leaned against the wall of the tub, breathing hard. Her heart had been beating fast, but already she could feel it slowing, easing. Steady comfort seemed to seep through her body just as the warmth from the bath had before.
For just a moment, she thought she saw shadows in the curling mist. A blink, and they were gone.
Someone knocked at the door. Elise gasped and jolted, sending water splashing onto the floor. “Who’s there?” she called.
“Me, miss,” came Fisher’s voice. “Dinner’s nearly ready. I’ve come with some fresh clothes for you.”
Elise let out a long, shaking breath. “I’ll be there shortly,” she said. Trusting that Elise would wait, she scrambled out of the bathtub and dried herself off. She didn’t bother to pin up her hair or do anything more than fling the robe hanging on the wall around her shoulders. Fisher would surely help with those, just as she would help with dressing her, though both felt foreign and strange.
For a moment, she thought she saw a flicker of shadow in the mirror, but she quickly dismissed it. She was tired. All would be well after a bit of rest.
The longer she told herself that, the more ease she could hold onto.