SARAH LLEWELLYN AND THE DRUID’S CURSE

CHAPTER 9: A LOVE LETTER FOR SARAH

Sarah awoke from a black fog. She sat up in bed and rubbed her head. She had an awful headache. She was in her own room and the curtains were drawn. She tried to recall what had happened. Suddenly the sheer horror of the situation overwhelmed her. She remembered everything. Everything.
“No. Oh no.” Sarah moaned aloud. A voice cut through the fog.
“Oh, Miss, thank goodness you’re awake.”
Sarah peered through the gloom. It was Morfydd. Before Sarah could say anything, Morfydd turned around and shouted with relief.
”She’s awake, Doctor Llewellyn. She’s awake.”
Almost at once she watched in horror as the shape of her father entered the room.
“My dear, my dear,” said the doctor, “We’ve all been so worried about you.”
Sarah raised her head and looked at the man.
“Wh…what are you doing here?” she said. “How can you even come in here after the terrible thing you have done?”
The doctor looked at Sarah in disbelief.
“What do you mean, child? Whatever do you mean?”
Sarah looked closely at her father. Morfydd had switched on the bedside light. His face showed no apparent knowledge of the terrible deed he had tried to commit.  Sarah felt herself getting very angry.
“You don’t admit to what you’ve done?” Sarah almost yelled at her tormentor.
“Done what, my child? Done what?” The doctor asked.
“Attempt to rape me, that’s what,” answered Sarah, her face red with anger. “Attempt to rape me.”
There was a loud gasp from Morfydd.  A look of sheer revulsion from the doctor.
And an immediate silence.
The doctor glanced back at Morfydd.
“My God,” he muttered, “The girl isn’t in her right mind.”
Sarah looked up at her father.  At least, the only man she had ever known as her father.
“You completely deny what happened up in Vivien’s room?” she said in a voice aching with pain and frustration.
The old man looked down at the young woman with a puzzled frown. Without another word he quickly left the room and closed the door behind him.
Sarah was too stupefied to do anything but sit there upright in bed and stare at the closed bedroom door.
“Miss, miss.”
Sarah looked across the room. Morfydd, the maid, was still standing there.
“Miss, you look an awful fright,” said the young girl, fidgeting awkwardly with her fingers, “Let me at least tidy your hair for you.”
She approached the side of the bed with a brush, comb and a mirror in her hands.
Without another word Sarah seized the mirror from the startled girl. She peered into the glass and dropped it on the bedclothes with a gasp.  Morfydd was correct. She did look a fright.  Her beautiful red hair was all tangled up and matted, swirling around her bruised head like a giant, unraveling red turban. Her face was powder white. Sarah’s hands began to shake.  She grabbed for a glass of water on the bedside table and knocked it over on the floor.
“One moment, Miss,” said Morfydd, “I’ll get another glass for you.”
Sarah trembled.  She was only thankful that Hugh St. Owen was not here to see her in such a state. She had really been through enough for one day. Or was it just one day?
Sarah raised her voice as the maid brought her a fresh glass of water from the adjoining bathroom.
“How long have I been here like this?” she said.
The maid looked at her with a very grave expression.
“Why, Miss, let me think now.” She paused. “It must have been at least two days since we found you lying on the floor in the mistress’s bedroom.”
Sarah’s mouth fell open in surprise.
“Two days?” she said. “I’ve been unconscious for two days?”
The maid nodded her head slowly and positively.
“Yes, Miss. We’ve been very worried about you. We couldn’t understand why you were in the mistress’s bedroom.”
Sarah looked up at the young girl in astonishment.
“Morfydd,” she said, “You saw me follow Mrs. Llewellyn up to her room after we had words. I remember….” She halted briefly as the memories came flooding back, “Yes, I remember meeting you on the staircase.”
The maid nodded her head again.
“Yes, Miss Llewellyn, I know that,” she said, “But I just couldn’t think what you wanted to do up there.”
Sarah looked down at the white satin bed sheets. How could she possibly explain to Morfydd about the Abbey curse and Vivien’s suspected involvement in family mischief? How could she tell her about the evil goings on that were even worse, if possible?  Sarah realized that the young woman would never believe her. But Sarah also realized that at some subterranean level, even Morfydd suspected that there was something wrong with the Llewellyn family situation. Vivien’s drinking, for a start, was a social embarrassment at best.
Sarah heaved a big sigh of resignation.  Morfydd was still standing by the bed. Sarah realized that the girl was still waiting for an answer.
She groaned inwardly and looked up at the maid.
“Oh, I don’t know, Morfydd,” she finally replied, “I just thought it might help if I went up to her rooms and had it out with her. When I got there I looked for her ? but she wasn’t there.”
“Wasn’t there, Miss Llewellyn?”  Morfydd eyes widened with amazement.
“No, she had just disappeared. I didn’t know where she had gone.”
“How strange, Miss,” said the maid, “But…but what made you say those terrible things about Doctor Llewellyn just now?”
The girl had unconsciously perched herself by the side of the bed on a chair, and was gazing intently at the young woman.
“What things, Morfydd?” Sarah felt the headache coming on even stronger as she tried to remember.
Morfydd blushed and held her head down in embarrassment.
Sarah looked at her, and at last, forced a grim smile.
“Oh, that,” she said, “My father apparently found me in Mrs. Llewellyn’s bedroom and started behaving very strangely. At one point he even said that he wasn’t…..that he wasn’t….” Sarah’s voice trailed off as the emotions of that experience once again overwhelmed her.
“What did he say that he wasn’t, Miss?” The maid’s urging was almost pushing Sarah over the edge.
Sarah threw up her hands. Tears rushed forward and burned her eyes. She thrust her head deep into the pillows.
“Oh, it doesn’t matter.” The bedding material muffled her sobs.
Morfydd reached out and put her hand on the distraught woman’s head.
“I’m sorry Miss,” she said, “I didn’t mean to upset you. You’ve been through a lot.”
She picked up a pill and the fresh glass of water from the bedside table.
“Here, Miss.” Morfydd held out the glass and tablet. “Doctor Llewellyn thought that you would need a good rest. He wants you to take this sleeping pill. You need a good night’s rest.”
Sarah raised herself up to a sitting position in the bed and swallowed the pill with a gulp of water. She wondered ruefully if it wasn’t some poison concocted by the doctor to shut her up permanently. Sarah shrugged the thought off.
“Thank you, Morfydd,” Sarah said, “Yes, I think I want to be alone now.”
The maid started to the door, then stopped suddenly and turned around.
“Oh, Miss, I almost forgot.” The young girl gasped at her own forgetfulness of her duties. She delved into her housemaid dress pockets and fished out a blue envelope.
“This came for you early this morning. I meant to give it to the Master for you, but with one thing and another it slipped my mind.”
Sarah took the envelope from the girl.
“There’s no stamp on it, Morfydd.”
“Oh no, Miss,” said Morfydd, “It was delivered by hand. From Mr. Hugh St. Owen himself.”
Sarah gazed at the envelope. The sleeping pill was beginning to take effect. She must read it before she was again too sleepy to understand it.
After a moment of intense curiosity, Morfydd’s sense of duty won out. She finally left the bedroom.
Sarah was alone at last.
She hastily tore open the blue envelope with her nails. It was addressed to her in what seemed like a very hurried scribble. It did not prepare her for the very neat handwriting that met her gaze on the single sheet of paper she found inside.
“My Dear Sarah,” the letter began, “I was informed by your housemaid yesterday morning that you were ill and that you were still indisposed this morning. I am very worried about you. Particularly as you must know that you have absolutely won my heart. I long to be near you, hold you, kiss you and make wild and passionate love. Yes, even that. Wild, naked and abandoned.”
At this point, despite her troubled condition, Sarah was shocked, thrilled and excited at such a raw declaration of love.  Beneath that conservative 1950s exterior, there seemed to beat the heart of a very passionate man. Sarah couldn’t help but remember how the stranger at the Abbey had swept her off her feet that first night. He had held her close, lusting after her body, squeezing her against him.  Hugh St. Owen had held her close again two days ago in the drawing room downstairs. Could it be that Hugh St. Owen and the stranger were really one and the same person after all?
Sarah looked down at the letter and read on.
“But more of that later. We must meet, my dear. I think I have made a discovery that will, at least in part, explain some of the mystery surrounding the Abbey, and our involvement in the whole thing. Let me know when you can see me.
Yours very truly,
Hugh St. Owen.”
Sarah’s eyes were riveted to the letter. So many things crowded into her mind. She must get to a phone.  She must call him. She must find out about……
The sleeping pill was beginning to take effect.  Sarah’s eyes started to close. She must force them to stay open. She had to stay awake. Sarah slowly began to float off into a deep sleep. The letter slipped from her grasp and fell onto the floor.
As she began to drift off, she was dimly aware of someone entering the room, bending down and stuffing her letter into some clothing.
Sarah mentally reached out to stop the person taking her letter.
“No, no, they must not take it. They must not take it. It’s my letter,” she thought, “It’s my letter…..”
The bedroom door closed and Sarah drifted off into a very heavily drugged sleep.
 

Who is trying to steal Hugh St. Owens’s love letter, and what new revelations has he discovered about the mysteries of the Abbey? What bizarre game is Dr. Llewellyn playing and why is he seemingly oblivious of his attempted rape of his own daughter? What will Sarah do now, trapped and drugged in the house of her strange tormentors? See the next exciting installment in Chapter 10 of Sarah Llewellyn and the Druid’s Curse coming soon!

Read Chapter 10: Forced Entry
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