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fact that you gave Ben a son."
Marise felt herself jerk, though she tried to control it.
"Don't flinch. I know about Benjie. I know about everything that goes
on in this house, from top to bottom, and nobody can keep me from finding out
what I want to learn. They've tried for years to keep me locked away in my
room all the time, but they've never figured out how I manage to get out. I
get out whenever I want to, remember that.
"No, Marise, I know all about your son. I like little boys, and I see
him playing in the garden on fine days. He's a lot like my Ben was at the same
age. When I want him, he'll be mine. Just wait and see." She laughed, a low
chuckle that held great humor and charm.
"Ben was mine, you know," she said. "Hanni was too old, too big, too
grown up. I couldn't manage him the way I could my twin. Hanni was cruel to
me, you know. He bought all new locks, and it took me ages to learn how to get
out again. When you came he used to check my door every day, so nothing I did
was any good.
"He stood outside and sang your praises until I nearly went mad. I
hated Hannibal, you know. I still do, but he's my brother. A Clarrington. He
belongs to me, like it or not. What have you done with him?"
She moved toward Marise, sheer menace in her expression. Marise backed
another step toward the refuge of the hallway behind her, but she knew it was
too late to run. She had to use shock tactics.
"Penelope, Hannibal is dead. Don't you remember? I suspect it might
have been you who surprised him in the library. He wouldn't have expected to
see you, after taking such care to keep you confined. He must have inherited
your mother's bad heart, though nobody seemed to suspect it. He died in the
library, whether or not you were there."
Penelope laughed. The sound brought Marise's neck-hairs upright.
"I did give him such a start," she crooned. "Poor Hanni thought he had
me fixed at last. He was so sure I was locked away and forgotten and helpless.
He didn't count on..." she stopped short and peered suspiciously at Marise.
"But I mustn't give away my little secrets, now must I?" she asked, her tone
sickeningly coy.
Marise found her fear replaced by anger. "That shock killed your
brother, so it was you who sent him away, not I. It was I who found him lying
on the carpet, his hands on his chest. His eyes were filled with astonishment,
though I didn't know what could have caused it at the time. Now I do know."
"He thought he had me safe and sound, but that was not entirely true. I
was a surprise, but the thing I told him was much, much worse. I will never
forget his face." Again that laugh chilled Marise to the marrow.
"So he died? Yes, I seem to remember now. There was a funeral
downstairs. I heard everything that was said, you know. Nothing can be kept
from me. The ducts run through the walls, up and down." Penelope sidled
closer, for now she too seemed to have thought of the open door.
"I'm faster than you -- faster than anyone. You can't get to the
corridor before I do, and if you run I'll catch you. I get ... excited when I
chase people. A little girl ran from me once, and I got excited. That was when
they locked me up in that room on the third floor. I hate those bars!"
Frightened as she had been, Marise felt a stab of sudden pity for her
sister-in-law. None of this was any of her doing. Those greedy ancestors back
in the old country had sowed a shocking crop, and their unfortunatedescendants must
harvest it, like it or not.
With cold certainty, Marise knew she stood in mortal danger. The woman
was set to explode like a bomb. Calculating her chances, Marise whirled and
fled through the door and the sanctuary of the corridor. She barely made it,
for Penelope's heavy body slammed into the door just behind her, as she turned
to lock it.
She couldn't hold it shut. She felt it wrenched from her grasp and
jerked open from inside. Marise gasped and ran, shouting for help. Hildy and
her husband were far away downstairs, deafened by circumstance and alcohol.
But Edenson was nearby, though the nurse might not come to her aid.
As Marise neared Mother Clarrington's door, it opened and the nurse's
face appeared in the crack. "Help me!" she panted. "Penelope's loose, and
she's after me. I think she intends to kill me."
Edenson scowled and shut the door with a snap, almost in Marise's face.
The sound brought her to her wits, and she paused in mid-flight.
Marise turned to face her pursuer. Not for nothing was she trained in
one of the best nursing schools in New England. She knew how to handle the
heaviest invalid, the most violent delirium. She knew how to deal with madmen.
Penelope, seeing her stop, slowed cautiously, warily. She was much
taller and heavier than Marise, though, and that seemed to reassure her. She
lunged forward at last, hands out, reaching for her prey.
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