The Witching Hour (Lives of the Mayfair Witches 1)

"Yes, and regarding the house," said Ryan. "Have you come to any decision?"

"I want to restore it. I want to live in it. I'll be marrying Michael Curry soon. Probably before the end of the year. We'll make our home there."

It was as if a bright light had snapped on, bathing each one of them in its warmth and illumination.

"Oh, that's splendid," said Ryan.

"So glad to hear it," said Anne Marie.

"You don't know what the house means to us," said Pierce.

"I wonder if you know," said Lauren, "how very happy everyone will be to hear of this."

Only Randall was quiet, Randall with his droopy lids, and his fleshy hands, and then even he said almost sadly, "Yes, that would be very simply wonderful."

"But can someone come and take the old woman's things away?" Rowan asked. "I don't want to go in until that's done."

"Absolutely," said Ryan. "We'll begin the inventory tomorrow. And Gerald Mayfair will call at once for Carlotta's things."

"And a cleaning team, I need a professional team to scrub down a room on the third floor and to remove all the mattresses."

"Those jars," said Ryan, with a look of distaste. "Those disgusting jars."

"I emptied all of them."

"Whatever was in them?" asked Pierce.

Randall was studying her with his heavy sagging eyes half mast.

"It was all rotted. If they can get the stench out, and take away the mattresses, we can begin the restoration. All the mattresses, I think ... "

"Start fresh, yes. I'll take care of it. Pierce can go up there now."

"No, I'll go myself," she said.

"Nonsense, Rowan, let me handle it," said Pierce. He was already on his feet. "Do you want replacements for the mattresses? They're doubles, aren't they, those antique beds? Let me see, there are four. I can have them delivered and installed this afternoon."

"That's splendid," said Rowan. "The maid's room needn't be touched, and Julien's old bed can be dismantled and stored."

"Got it. What else can I do for you?"

"That's more than enough. Michael will take care of the rest. Michael will handle the renovation himself."

"Yes, he is quite successful at that, isn't he?" said Lauren quietly. Instantly she realized the slip she had made. She lowered her eyes, then looked up at Rowan, attempting to mask her slight confusion.

They had already investigated him, hadn't they? Had they found out about his hands?

"We'd love to keep you awhile longer," said Ryan quickly. "Just a few papers we have to show you, in connection with the estate, and perhaps some basic documents pertaining to the legacy ... "

"Yes, of course, let's get to work. I'd like nothing better."

"Then it's settled. And we'll take you to lunch afterwards. We wanted to take you to Galatoire's, if you have no other plans."

"Sounds wonderful."

And so it was begun.

It was three o'clock when she reached the house. In the full heat of the day, though the sky was still overcast. The warmth seemed collected and stagnant beneath the oaks. As she stepped out of the cab, she could see the tiny insects swarming in the pockets of shadow. But the house caught her up instantly. Here alone again. And the jars are gone, thank God, and the dolls, and very soon all that belonged to Carlotta. Gone.

She had the keys in her hand. They had shown her the papers pertaining to the house, which had been entailed with the legacy in the year 1888 by Katherine. It was hers and hers alone. And so were all the other billions which they wouldn't speak of aloud. All mine.

Gerald Mayfair, a personable young man with a bland face and nondescript features, came out the front door. Quickly he explained that he was just leaving, he had only just placed the last carton of Carlotta's personal possessions in the trunk of his car.

The cleaning team had finished about a half hour before.

He eyed Rowan a little nervously as she offered her hand. He couldn't have been more than twenty-five, and did not resemble Ryan's family. His features were smaller and he lacked the poise she'd observed in the others. But he seemed nice--what one would call a nice young guy.

His speaking voice was certainly agreeable.

Carlotta had wanted his grandmother to have her things, he explained. Of course the furniture would remain. It belonged to Rowan. It was all quite old, dating from the time that Carlotta's grandmother, Katherine, had furnished the house.

Rowan thanked him for taking care of things so quickly. She assured him she would be at the Requiem Mass for Carlotta.

"Do you know if she's been ... buried?" Was that the proper word for being slipped into one of those stone drawers?

Yes, he said, she had been interred this morning. He'd been there with his mother. They'd gotten her message to come for the things when they returned home.

She told him how much she appreciated it, how much she wanted to meet all the family. He nodded.

"It was nice of your two friends to come," he said.

"My friends? Come to what?"

"This morning at the cemetery, Mr. Lightner and Mr. Curry."

"Oh, of course. I ... I should have been there myself."

"Doesn't matter. She didn't want any fuss, and frankly ... "

He stood quiet for a moment on the flagstone walk, looking up at the house, and wanting to say something, but seemingly unable to speak.

"What is it?" Rowan asked.

Perhaps he'd wandered up there and seen all that broken glass before the cleaning team had arrived. Surely he would have wanted to see where the "skeleton" had lain, that is, if he'd read the papers, or if the other Mayfairs had told him, which maybe they had.

"You plan to live in it?" he asked suddenly.

"To restore it, to bring it back to the old splendor. My husband ... the man I'm going to marry. He's an expert on old houses; he says it's absolutely solid. He's eager to begin."

Still he stood quiet in the simmering air, his face glistening slightly, and his expression full of expectation and hesitancy. Finally he said:

"You know it has seen so many tragedies. That's what Aunt Carlotta always said."

"And so did the morning paper," she said, smiling. "But it's seen much happiness, hasn't it? In the old days, for decades at a stretch. I want it to see happiness again."

She waited patiently, and then finally, she asked:

"What is it you really want to say to me?"

His eyes moved over her face, and then with a little shift to his shoulders, and a sigh, he looked back up at the house.

"I think I should tell you that Carlotta ... Carlotta wanted me to burn the house after her death."

"You're serious?"

"I never had any intention of doing it. I told Ryan and Lauren. I told my parents. But I thought I should tell you. She was adamant. She told me how to do it. That I was to start the fire in the attic with an oil lamp that was up there, and then move down to the second floor and start the drapes burning and finally come down to the first. She made me promise. She gave me a key."

He handed this key to Rowan.

"You don't really need it," he said. "The front door hasn't been locked in fifty years, but she was afraid someone might lock it. She knew she wouldn't die till Deirdre died, and those were her instructions."

"When did she tell you this?"

"Many times. The last time was a week ago, maybe less. Right before Deirdre died ... when they first knew she was dying. She called me late at night and reminded me. 'Burn it all,' she said."

"She would have hurt everyone if she had done that!" Rowan whispered.

"I know. My parents were horrified. They were afraid she'd burn it herself. But what could they do? Ryan said she wouldn't. She wouldn't have asked me to do it if she'd been able to do it. He told me to humor her. Tell her I'd do it so that she'd be sure of that, and not go to some other extreme."

"That was wise."

He gave a little nod, then his eyes drifted away from hers and

back to the house.

"I just wanted you to know," he said. "I thought you should know."

"And what else can you tell me?"

"What else?" He gave a little shrug. Then he looked at her, and though he meant to turn away, he didn't. He locked in. "Be careful," he said. "Be very careful. It's old and it's gloomy and it's ... it's not perhaps what it seems."