A Matter of Honor Read Online Free PDF Page B

blinked as the room flared with light.
    “That’s right, dear.” A rail-thin older woman in a gray dressing gown, black hair drawn into a severe bun, strode into the room. “They don’t like light.”
    Antoinette stared at Janika. “You’re not my mother.” The girl’s voice was sad. “Once you were, but not anymore.”
    “Remember what we practiced?” The woman had to be Antoinette’s governess, Missus Henning. She took one of Antoinette’s hands and began to chant in demonspeak. The girl joined in. They walked closer to Janika who’d thrown her hands in front of her face the minute Antoinette had turned up the light.
    Looking grim as death, brows drawn together into a hard line, Gerald took his daughter’s other hand and joined his voice to theirs.
    “No. Leave me alone. I’ll go,” Janika begged, backing into a corner.
    Antoinette broke off the mantra long enough to glance toward her governess. Even from her vantage point in the middle in the room, Melis saw pleading in the child’s face and heard it in her trembling voice. “Can we let her leave?”
    Missus Henning turned and Melis got a look at her eyes. They were black as coals, burning and bottomless. “No, dear, we must end this once and for all.”
    Antoinette nodded. A tear rolled down one cheek, but she ignored it. “I understand.” Her child’s piping picked up the chant.
    Janika burst into flames. The conflagration started with her feet and quickly raced up her body. Waves of heat spread through the room, but there wasn’t any smoke. Gerald, Antoinette, and Mrs. Henning hit a high, jarring note and held it. The thing that had been Janika melted into strings of gore spreading over the polished wood floor. Braving the heat, the governess pulled a packet out of her gown and sprinkled it on the mess. Sparks shot through the air. When they cleared, all traces of Janika had disappeared.
    “Silver powder for good measure,” Missus Henning muttered. “The thing is finally done.”
    “Goodbye, Momma.” A sob escaped Antoinette.
    Gerald pulled his daughter against him, stroking her hair. Tears glistened in his eyes. “You were very brave,” he crooned. “My courageous darling. You saved us all.” He met the governess’s gaze over his child’s head. “Why did you teach her that incantation? And tell her about her mother?”
    Missus Henning squared her thin shoulders. “It is best not to overprotect the young, Mister Brenner. If you had ever raised any other children, you would know that.” She eyed him and Melis and cleared her throat. “I assume a wedding is imminent since you seem to be sharing a bedroom.”
    Melis’s cheeks burned. She’d forgotten she was naked under her thin shift. “Yes, ma’am,” she said. “Most imminent.”
    “Good. Can’t be setting a bad example for the child. I am quite fond of her.” Dark eyes sparkling with humor, she winked before leaving the room.
    “Poppa?”
    “Yes, darling.”
    “Was Momma really beyond hope like Missus Henning said?”
    Melis wondered what the governess had told Antoinette. Her heart ached for the newly motherless girl. She jumped in before Gerald could say anything. “Your mother loved you. Never forget that. She made a very bad decision three years ago, but it had nothing to do with her feelings for you.”
    Gerald walked to Melis and kissed her cheek. “I couldn’t have said it better. Time for bed, little one.” He started for the door with Antoinette clinging to him.
    “Can I stay with you tonight?” she asked. “Both of you?”
    “Of course.” Melis smiled gently. “That’s a wonderful idea.” She opened her arms and Antoinette ran into them. As she cradled the small quaking body against her, Melis vowed to be a good mother. Maybe, just maybe, this could be a second chance for all of them.

About the Author
    Ann Gimpel is a clinical psychologist, with a Jungian bent, who practices in a very isolated area high in California’s Sierra Nevada Mountains.