A Feast Of Souls: A Dark Paranormal Romance

Chapter 26: The Deadly Elixir

'Marie, do you happen to know where Papa is?'

Marie, who has remained on the constant cusp of bursting into tears ever since Mama passed, stares at me with wide water-brimmed eyes, twisting up her apron in her hands.

'The Admiral took himself off for a nap, Miss. He looks exhausted. He's really not himself. He wouldn't eat or drink a thing I offered after they came for dear Mrs. Elmes. I don't know what else to do!'

Before Marie can burst into actual tears, I grasp her hand to calm her. 'Fear not, Marie,' I say with a smile that I am sure looks as false and as hollow as my words sound. 'I am quite sure all the Admiral needs is some time. He will eat and drink again when he is in need of it.'

Marie nods dutifully, but I can see she is unconvinced. 'Miss, can I get you and Master William anything?' The poor lamb looks as if she is desperate to feed us, but the thought of eating anything in this moment makes my stomach churn with nausea.

I pat her hand. 'No, no, we are quite alright. Thank you, Marie. We will call for some supper at a later hour.'

Marie smiles at the idea she might be able to finally force one of us to eat something and leaves the hallway, sniffing as she goes.

I stand at the bottom of the staircase and strain to listen. The house is uncommonly quiet and my skin prickles with the ominous silence. William and I had returned, only to pass the black funeral carriage of Pugh & Sons Funeral Directors on the road, carrying Mama's coffin. Instead of Papa, Silas had been waiting, cap in hand, watching the funeral carriage as it trudged into the distance.

'The Admiral couldn't bear it no more, Miss,' he'd explained to me when I had enquired as to why Mama was being taken. 'Mr. Pugh will care for her now, until the service in two days hence.'

I suppose I could not blame Papa. After everything that had taken place here just the day before, I should imagine the idea of Mama residing alone in the parlour room with no mourners come to visit – for no one would surely come here now – had troubled Papa greatly.

Or mayhap he did not wish to look upon the face of the wife he killed?

I grimace, desperately trying to push that unwanted thought out of my head, for it pains me greatly to think that Papa had any part in this dark scheme. Sadly, however, the knowledge that Papa holds the box which the Sin-Eater's key would unlock troubles me more than I care to admit. I have no idea of the connection between the two men, but with Mr. Hemsby's account of the sinister they who plagued him with terror, the photograph of Papa and his friends at Rectory Wood and now, this mysterious key with the skull-like bow, doubt is sowing seeds of disquiet so deep that I think the roots will be bound around my skeleton for eternity.