Selena stared at the door for a long, long time, unable to fall asleep again. She remembered the black place she'd been in when she couldn't wake up, the swirling mists of pain and fear that clung like a shroud to her body. She'd heard Ian's voice then, and that had been enough, a lifeline between the world of darkness and the light that lay beyond. Knowing that he was out there, that he cared, had pulled her through. It pulled her through even now, kept her reaching forward.
She wondered if Maeve had a voice in the dark silence.
Strangely, Selena thought that the old woman did not, that perhaps she was even more alone than Selena. Else why would Maeve be here in the middle of the night, alone, her nightdress stained with silvery tears?
Maybe only Selena knew what the darkness felt like, knew how cold and lonely it felt to be lost inside yourself. If that was true, then only she could help Maeve.
Selena felt the first tug of a smile.
She could help Maeve the way Ian had helped her.
And maybe then they'd both feel less alone.
Whack. Whack. Whack.
Selena came awake slowly. At first she thought the strange, pounding beat was in her head, some remnant from another unremembered dream, but gradually she realized that the noise was real.
She pressed up to her elbows and scanned the room quickly, noticing the chair and commode were in their rightful places. The limp white curtains shimmied against the plaster wall.
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Selena pushed back the heavy coverlet and went to the window, shoving the curtains out of the way.
A florid-faced older man peered at her through the window. Surprise widened his black eyes at the sight of her. "Holy hell!" he wheezed, spitting nails from his thick lips.
She frowned. He was standing on something ... a ladder. She tried to ask him what he was doing, floating out there in front of her window, but the only words she could form were, "Sky blue . . . standing."
He shook his head and reached into his pocket for another nail. "Poor thing. Ye're crazy as a bedbug, jest as the missus said."
Selena watched as he withdrew a thick iron bar from a bucket hanging from the ladder's uppermost rung. He pressed the bar in front of her window and began hammering it in place.
That's when she noticed the other two bars on the left side of the glass. A dim sense of panic started. They were locking her in, taking away her only picture of the world outside. She scrambled for the bottom of the sash window and shoved the glass up. It hit the housing with a crack.
His head snapped up. "What in the hell .. ."
She stared at him, her mouth gaped open, her heart thudding in her chest. She didn't want to be locked in, didn't want to be an animal in a dark box, all alone. She had so much to do, so much to see out there.
"What . . ." Nothing else would come out. She heard the query in her mind, circling endlessly, increasing her panic, but she couldn't release it. What are you doing? Why are you locking me in?
"Puttin' bars on the window, miss. Ye'll still be able to see out. Ye jest can't get out."
Selena shook her head, searching frantically for the words she needed. "No. Thank you ... please."
"Doctor's orders, miss. I was supposed to do it days
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ago, but I forgot. Last night the missus got on me but good. Seems ye thought about jumpin'."
She frowned. "Bottle ... But ..."
"It's to keep ye safe. Doctor always bars the windows."
Selena didn't understand each word, but she understood the old man's point. Doctor. Ian had ordered the bars to be put on the windows to protect Selena. Not to keep her in, but to keep her safe.
It made her suddenly sad. Ian didn't understand her any more than she understood him most of the time. He was afraid she'd jump out of the window and kill herself. But she'd already learned that lesson. She understood that she could be hurt, that she could fall and break her bloody neck.
Last night she hadn't been able to communicate her understanding, though, and they'd all thought she didn't see the peril. They thought she was crazy and stupid. And brain-damaged. She remembered when she'd first heard those words from Ian. There had been such hopelessness in his voice, such regret. She understood that, too, now. He didn't want her to be damaged. He wanted her to be whole and pretty.
She swallowed hard. They were the two things she would never be. She knew she was ugly; she'd almost accepted that. But she didn't want to be so broken that she had to live here forever, locked in a room with bars on the windows. Alone.
She turned away from the window, let the curtain flutter back into place. Hugging herself, she paced around the small room, finally slumping onto her bed. A small, nagging pain pinched her chest.
She was used to that pain. She'd carried it around with her from the moment Ian turned away from her. All he saw was the outside, the ugliness and the failure and the frustration. He didn't see her at all.
She sighed. She was so tired of feeling lost and alone, afraid. And she sensed she'd lived this way for a
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very long time. Whenever she tried to remember life before Ian, all she felt was a lingering sorrow. As if she'd been sad for two lifetimes.
No more. The words slipped into her mind, gathering force. At first she didn't really understand what they meant; they were simply words. Then, all at once, she knew. Her heart was speaking to her, loudly, with a clarity she hadn't known before. Her heart and soul were tired of the sadness, the sorrow, the tears.
And she was tired of this room, of breathing but not really living, of waiting for other people to give her opportunities. It was time to make herself happy.
She had to do things for herself, had to learn about the world on her own. She had already figured out everything this room had to teach her-commode, bed, quilt, window, pitcher, water, basin.
Now she needed to get out and explore the world.
What first?
Dress.
She smiled at the ease with which she retrieved the information. Leaning forward, she grabbed the gown off the chair beside her bed. The slippery rust-colored fabric felt soft and wonderful against her rough-skinned hands.
Silk. She was thrilled at how quickly the word came to her. The moment she touched the fabric, she knew what it was called. Silk. She focused all of her mind on trying to say the single word. "Tree." She frowned. No. Not correct. She refused to give up, she tried again and again. Minutes ticked by, slowly, irritatingly.
"Broom. Clock. Silk."
She grinned. It had taken time-but what was time? She wasn't stupid. She wasn't.
All she needed was help. Just a little. But who could help her? Maeve was lost and Ian was gone.
The answer came to her so suddenly, she wondered why she hadn't seen it before.
She leapt off the bed and ran for the door, pounding
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on the hard wood. She wanted to yell for Andrew, but the words wouldn't come.
She stopped when she heard footsteps outside her door. "Selena, is that you?" came a soft, male voice.
"Andrew?" Unlock the door. I need your help. She tried to force out the words. "Help ... Selena."
The doorknob turned. Selena stumbled back just as the door swung open. Outside, in the shadowy hallway, stood a cluster of people. Edith, Maeve, the queen. And Andrew was in the middle.
"What is it, lassie?" Edith said, breathing heavily, wiping her fleshy hands on the floury front of her apron.
Selena knew what she meant to ask for, but she couldn't find the words. The minutes ticked by, slowly, thickened by the breathing of the crowd. Selena closed her eyes and stamped her foot in frustration. "Help," she managed.
"It's all right, Selena," Andrew said. "Take your time."
Selena clasped her hands together and stared at him, trying to draw strength from his quiet acceptance. "Basket." She shook her head. "No. Not ... Selena ... stupid. Sick."
Edith clucked. "Poor wee thing. Her brains are scrambled."
Maeve lo
oked up, her eyes glassy. "Eggs would be nice, Edith. Thank you. Be sure and ask the master if he's hungry."
"Do hush, you two," Andrew said harshly. "Can't you see that she's trying to tell us something?" He moved closer, encouraging her with a nod. "Go on."
Selena pointed to her head, then to her mouth. "Broken." At Andrew's blank look, she repeated the gesture and tried a different word. "Hard."
Maeve nodded. "It's hard for all of us to speak our minds sometimes. Isn't it, Herbert?" she said to the stuffed owl in her arms.
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Andrew made a quiet, gulping sound of excitement. "Is that what you're trying to say, Selena?"
Selena nodded, grinning. "Yes. Think ... good. No ... talk. Help .. . Selena?"
Andrew's smile fell. "We can't help you, Selena. We're crazy."
The queen rapped him sharply on the back of the head. "Speak for yourself, young man. Royalty is over-bred, not crazy. I've got plenty of things I could teach the chit."
Selena tried to follow the queen's speech, but couldn't. Instead, she reached for the children's book and pressed it to her chest. "Read. Learn." She pointed to the window. "Outside ... see. Learn words."
Andrew gazed at her, frowning. "You don't care if we're crazy?"
She gave him a smile and reached forward, touching his fuzzy chin with her hand. "Not crazy."
Andrew smiled unsteadily. Tears glistened in his eyes.
The queen shook her head. "Oh, Jesus, the pup's gonna start bawling."
He wiped his eyes. "I'll help you, Selena." He turned back to the gray-clad people behind him. "What do you say, lunatics? We can teach Selena everything about life. It'll give Dr. Carrick a mighty surprise when he returns."
"Dr. Carrick don't seem particularly fond o" surprises," Edith said with a frown.
The crowned lady snorted and placed her fat hands on her hips. "And just who gives a shit about that?"
Andrew struggled with a smile. "Then it's decided. We'll teach Selena everything she needs to know about life."
Edith rolled her eyes. "Oh, Lord. Don't the poor child have problems enough?"
Chapter Eleven
"I think she should get dressed first." Queen Victoria peered at Selena from behind a cracked, dusty monocle. "Clothes are the window to the soul."
Edith frowned. "They are? I thought-"
"Please don't," the queen interrupted. "You're giving me a frightful head."
Selena watched Edith and the queen talk back and forth. Every now and then she understood a word or two-dressed, window, head. She couldn't quite put it all together, but she could feel herself getting closer. The words were coming with less effort; she was understanding more. Ian had been gone for two sunrises-she was sure of that-and with each new day, she felt herself getting stronger.
She could remember their names effortlessly now. There was Lara, the child-woman who sucked her thumb and wanted a family; Andrew, the earnest young man with the shaking hands and hopeful eyes; Queen Victoria, who spoke in a strange voice that vibrated with self-confidence; Edith, the housekeeper, who almost always seemed angry with the others. Sometimes the quiet one, Dotty, flitted through her room before disappearing into a closet or armoire.
"Where is Maeve?" Selena said suddenly. A stunned silence fell over the jumble of conversation.
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"Sweet Mary," Edith said, pressing her pudgy hand to her gaping mouth.
It took Selena a moment to realize what had taken place. She'd spoken her thoughts in a clear, understandable way-and she'd done it without a moment's hesitation.
Hope accelerated her heartbeat. Maybe that was the key. Maybe she'd been concentrating so hard and trying so valiantly, she'd made it impossible for herself. Perhaps that was her mistake. Ian had made her tense and nervous, desperate to perform well. Here, in the midst of her new friends, she felt no such pressure.
Smiling, she tried again. "Maeve came ..." to my room last "... night."
Her smile fell. Defeat rounded her shoulders. Staring at Andrew, she gave him a futile little shrug. "Not so better."
He stepped toward her. "You're much better, Selena. Naturally you have trouble speaking. I expect it's normal after such a bash to the noggin."
Selena understood the most important word: normal. It sifted through her heart and made her smile again. She reached out, took Andrew's hand in hers.
He blinked and tried to draw back. "What ... what are you doing?"
"Thank ... you. Andrew."
The queen sighed. " 'E gods, they're going to kiss."
Andrew's face flamed. He jerked his hand back and spun around to face Edith, the queen, and Lara. "All right, ladies, as of now, we're Miss Selena's teachers."
"I say she gets dressed first," the queen said. "Clothes are the window of the soul."
Edith shook her head. "Really, Your Highness, we've had this discussion. 'Tis the eyes that are the windows to the soul."
"Clothes."
"Eyes."
Something about the argument seemed absurdly
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funny to Selena. She couldn't help herself. She started to laugh.
Beside her, Lara giggled.
"How could eyes be made of glass? Everyone knows that windows are glass," the queen said earnestly.
Andrew shot Selena a funny look. His eyes crinkled in the corners, his mouth twitched.
Edith frowned and glanced at the faces around her. "They're laughin' at us, Your Highness."
The queen's eyes rounded. Then a quick smile quirked one side of her mouth. A deep, breathy chuckle slipped out.
There was a moment of stunned silence, and then everyone was laughing. The booming sound filled the tiny room.
Selena had never experienced such exhilaration. She felt wonderfully, joyously alive.
"I ... love ... to laugh," Lara said with a gap-toothed grin.
Finally the laughter melted away, leaving a silence that was warm and welcoming.
The queen wiped the tears from her cheeks and turned to Selena. "Thank you, child. It's been a long time-----"
"You're welcome," Selena answered automatically.
The queen rapped her on the nose with her open fan. "You're welcome, Your Highness. That's me. You may address me as Queen Victoria or Your Highness."
Selena watched her mouth form the words. "Your ... Highness."
The queen beamed. "She will come to me for lessons first, of course."
"What will you teach her?" Andrew asked.
"The essentials. How to walk with books on her head. How to wave and curtsy. An overview of the peerage." Her fleshy face scrunched in a thoughtful frown. "Tea etiquette is crucial."
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"That should help her in the real world," Andrew said.
The queen looked up sharply. "Do you think she'll ever see the real world?"
"Why not? She's not crazy."
"Neither am I," snorted the queen. "If it weren't for my evil twin sister, Vicky the sneak, I'd be on the throne right now." The queen turned and began pacing the room, fanning herself, muttering.
Selena went to the queen. "Help me."
The queen paused, turned. "You accept that I am the real and true inheritor of the throne of England?"
Selena had no idea what she'd just been asked. So she nodded.
The queen smiled. "Today we shall begin with my realm of expertise."
Edith rolled her eyes. "This is all nonsense. But I shall teach her how to do housework. Assuming she doesn't burn the bloody house down, that should give her a way to earn a decent livin'. Ye needn't speak to be a good housekeeper."
"Don't need much of a brain, neither," the queen added.
Andrew seemed to think for a minute, then he grinned. "I don't have many necessary skills, but I can improve her vocabulary. I'll start by marking the items in the house and yard."
"But who's going to teach her to think?" Edith asked.
They all looked at each other b
lankly, from one to the other. Then, slowly, Lara raised her hand. "I will."
The queen heaved a sigh. "Phew. So it's all settled. Now, what shall she wear for teatime?" She glanced around the room and spied the bronze silk gown Maeve had left. "Ah, perfect." She picked up the dress and turned to Selena. "This shall do for today."
Selena stroked the soft fabric. "Silk."
"So it is."
Edith came forward, touched the buttons on Selena's
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lawn nightdress. "Remember buttons ... how to unhook them?"
Selena understood. She unbuttoned her gown and whipped it over her head.
Naked, she grinned at the faces around her.
Andrew swallowed. His face turned scarlet. "Oh, Lord," he said in a thick, reedy voice.
"Get out, Andrew!" Edith screeched, motioning for the door.
He spun and scrambled out of the room, slamming the door shut behind him.
Selena knew she'd done something wrong again, but she didn't know what it could possibly be. She'd unbuttoned her gown and undressed just as Edith had taught her. She looked at Edith. "Wrong?"
Edith nodded. "Don't get undressed in front of people. It isn't proper."
Selena looked at the faces around her. She thought that people meant more than one person, but obviously she was wrong. "People?"
"Andrew," Edith clarified. "Don't get undressed around Andrew."
"Oh," Selena said. There was something special about Andrew. "I understand."
"Good. Now, let's get you dressed."
Edith showed Selena how to tie her lace-edged knee-length drawers and slip into the flimsy chemise. Selena concentrated very carefully, making sure that the queen wrote down every motion required, so that Selena could read and reread it.
There were more clothes than she could have imagined. Selena repeated every word she heard at least twice, until she understood and remembered that the small brown items were boots and that the silken leg coverings were stockings.
"Next is the corset." Edith held up an hourglass-shaped white satin bodice with pink ribbons at the closure. It looked very stiff.
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"Corset," Selena repeated, standing still as Edith fitted the garment over her breasts and beneath her arms.
"Hold on to the bed frame," Edith said, "and suck in a breath."
Selena did as she was told.
Edith yanked the corset tight
Selena gasped for air. Blinking white lights danced in front of her eyes. Her fingers released their grip on the wooden post, and she wrenched sideways.
"It ain't tight enough. Come back-" Edith ran after her.
Selena stood her ground, arms akimbo, her breath coming in great, wheezing gasps. "No. No corset."
"But ladies-"
"No."
"But 'tis proper. Dr. Carrick-"
The queen hushed Edith with a wave. "He isn't here. Besides, the muddle-headed doctor will hide in the dark like he always does. What does he care if Selena here wears a corset?"
Edith shrugged. "I give up. Fine, Selena, no corset for you."
Selena smiled. "Hurts."
The queen laughed. "See, Edith? Even a woman with half a brain knows that damned thing ain't right."
Edith sighed. "You're the queen. Change the fashion."