Death of a Duchess by Nellie Steele (i like reading books .TXT) 📕

I crossed my arms in frustration. My foot tapped the air, and I pursed my lips. I must seek more information. Resolute, I swung my legs over the bed and slid to standing. I winced as my ankle objected to my activity.

I ignored it and proceeded to the hallway. I navigated to the fated tower room. I stood at the bottom of the curving stairway, vacillating about my decision to seek information. With a shake of my head, I dismissed any misgivings and decided to proceed. I swallowed hard as I placed one foot on the first step.

I forced myself up the stairs. My previous experience here still haunted me despite having been here several times since. I stood outside the doorway and peered into the room. My breath caught in my throat as I spotted the boarded windows and the bare hinges.

I leaned into the room. “Annie?” I whispered.

Nothing moved or responded. I stepped inside, my hand still clutching the door jamb. “Annie?” I asked in a hushed tone. My eyes scanned the room, searching for any sign of the specter. I found none.

“Annie,” I said, raising my voice to a normal level. “Annie, I realize what you have been attempting to communicate to me.” I paused, awaiting a response. After a breath, I continued. “I know about the baby, Annie. I have deduced it! Are you proud of me? I have done it!”

No response greeted me. Silence hung heavy around me. “But now I need more! You were with child, what drove you to take your life? Please! Give me more information!”

My words echoed in the empty room. I waited with bated breath for any signal. None came. With a sigh, I retreated from the room. Dejectedly, I stepped onto the first step leading down the stairs. I took a wistful glance back toward the room. Movement caught my eye.

“Annie!” I exclaimed, racing back inside.

At this juncture, dear reader, I must pause. The memory of what occurred next remains painful and haunting. To this day, I have wondered if my decision to return to the tower was a mistake. Should I have continued back to my bedroom? Should I have left well enough alone?

In all honesty, I suppose the truth would always have come to light. I realize my discourse with the dead would mean I would likely have learned the truth, eventually. I suppose the point is moot. Though I still have difficulty with the memory, I shall press on so you are aware of the full story.

I returned to the tower room to find Annie. Her dark eyes were fixed upon me and her cheeks were tear-stained.

“There you are!” I said. “Oh, Annie. I am sorry this is painful for you. Though I have gained a piece of the puzzle. I realize what you have been attempting to impart to me. You were with child when you died.”

Annie’s specter shuddered as fresh tears streamed down her face. I continued, unaware of what troubled her beyond the death of her unborn child. “What disturbs you about the child so? I saw her playing by the stream. She is lovely. I…”

My words were cut off by Annie. Her figure charged at me and an icy hand clamped over my mouth. My eyes went wide with shock. I stumbled back a step, shrinking away from her. “I did not mean to cause you distress,” I apologized.

Annie retreated across the room, her shoulders slumping as sobs wracked through her. After a moment, I tried again. “Annie,” I said in a hushed tone, “what troubles you so?”

She did not answer. I urged her again. “Annie, please. I do not understand. I am stumbling in the dark. I have learned of your pregnancy, yet this seems to distress you more. Were you not overjoyed to learn you would give Robert a child? Were you unaware of the child? How does this play into your death? Please, I am struggling to understand, you must help me.”

Annie turned back to me, her eyes blazing red. They bored into me and I shrank back from her piercing gaze. I wondered if I should, perhaps, leave. Annie’s behavior continued to devolve as her upset grew. She balled her fists at her sides and growled.

It seemed an opportune moment to depart. I would learn nothing more, and my presence seemed only to antagonize Annie. I stepped backward toward the door. As I reached it, I turned, intent on descending the stairs.

However, I found myself unable to pass through the doorway. Despite there being no door on the hinges, it was as though one stood in my way. I pressed my hand into the empty space and found it unable to reach beyond the threshold. Mystified, I spun to face Annie.

Her face contorted into a mask of pain. I had never witnessed her this distraught. Even when she lured me to the tower and I pitched over the side, Annie remained calm. What disturbed her so? The thought flitted through my mind before worry replaced it. Why did she bar me from departing? What about the revelation of her pregnancy caused such strife?

“Annie…” I began to protest when Annie let out an ear-splitting shriek. I clasped my hands over my ears and attempted to depart a second time. I could not.

When I turned to face Annie again, I found her huddled on the floor, her back toward me. I took one step toward her when I lost my footing. Invisible hands clutched at me. I struggled against them, but escape was impossible. The unseen force shoved me to the floor, my arm twisted behind my back. My chin scraped against the cold stone floor as weight bore down on top of me. Pain shot through my wrist and shoulder as my arm wrenched as I struggled to free myself. With my free hand, I sought to crawl away, my