Collinwood's keeper

Chapter 1

Kathryn Elizabeth Snow

My name is Kathryn Snow. I am twenty-five years of age. Until a few days ago, I could not have told you much about what I planned to do with my life. But that was then, and I was not a part of the world of Collinwood Manor.

It was a strange house, but I liked it. Somehow, I felt it suited me nicely. Collinwood was a lovely old mansion located off of Collins Road, high up a hill from the small town of Collinsport, Maine. The family that lives there has been in the manor for almost twelve generations, and has been there since the town was founded with their name.

Only, it wasn't the main house that has hired me. It is the original house that has called me. A place as old as Collinsport. A place that seems to have gained a life of its own. For when I showed up on the doorstep on the morning of October 27th, there was no one home, although I was told I would be expected.

Yet, as I stood, looking around for the owner of the house, the doors opened by themselves, granting me entrance to the foyer within. Stepping inside felt to me like taking a step into the past. The halls were a beautiful mixture of smooth plaster, carved stone, and polished wood. The ceilings were high and vaulted in places. The area in which I stood was open and spacious. To my right was a large, grand staircase that lead ever upwards and out of my sight. To my left, a receiving area that had been prepared with painstaking accuracy. It looked like an old French chateau, so grand someone like myself should never have laid eyes on it.

I'm not rich, you see. I have an eye for beautiful things, but all in all, I'm a simple girl. I do not think myself particularly pretty, although friends and relatives have often told me that I was. I have long dark hair that I keep tucked back in a braid most of the time, with pale coffee-cream skin and dark eyes with a strange blue ring around the. I'm neither short nor tall, and I have a small waist with a long torso. I have never had a man in my life. Perhaps that is the reason for my shyness and quiet disposition the vast majority of the time. Unless I am made angry. I have strong opinions about life, and I have an explosive temper when crossed. I am told I am very defensive when it comes to protecting my friends and family.

Carefully, I set my suitcases down in the entrance hall and stepped into the receiving room, taking the opportunity to let my curiosity roam. The columns stretching up to the ceiling were carved mahogany, and beautifully maintained. The walls were painted a soft green, giving the impression that I was between a parlor and a forest. My eyes fell on the letter that was sitting on the oak coffee table, underneath a large bouquet of flowers. My name was scrawled across the front in beautiful handwriting. I picked it up, opened it, and read.

My Dearest Miss Kathryn Snow,

Please feel welcome in this house. I am deeply sorry that I could not be here to greet you myself. I hope you will be happy here. You may choose any room upstairs you like for yourself. You are also welcome to the library, and to wander the rooms of the house. My brother, Barnabas Collins, will greet you this evening. He is a kind man, and will see to any arrangements that you may need.

Sincerely,

Sarah Collins

I looked the note over again. I was told that Sarah Collins had hired me as keeper of the Collins residence. I had not been told I would be serving her brother. I shrugged, folding the letter up again and placing it in my skirt pocket. If there were any issues that could not be resolved, I would simply get back on the train and return to New Hampshire. Smiling to myself, I moved to the stairs to explore my new domain.

The stairs were carpeted in green, matching the receiving room. I got the impression that the owner of the house (Barnabas Collins. I would have to remember. If worse came to worse, it would simply be Mr. Collins) liked green. Perhaps his life didn't allow him time to witness the greenery outside.

The second floor was decorated in soft cream colors and pale pinks. Old paintings dotted the walls above oil lamps. I was immediately charmed by the calming, old-world feeling it gave me. It was almost like I had lived there before. I began opening doors to discover each had its own theme. One bedroom had a china theme, with cream and floral designs spanning every piece of furniture in the room. Another was heavily Victorian, with plush velvet covering the bed and chairs, all in dark colors. A third had cherry wood furniture; a fourth had large bay windows. I loved them all, but at last settled on the one with the large windows. This way, I reasoned, I would be able to have both night and daylight. I skipped joyfully down the stairs again and hauled my bags to the room, setting them inside the door. I did not unpack yet, thinking that if something went wrong, I would be prepared to leave as soon as possible.

I spent the rest of the day wandering the house, looking in every crevice and nook with intense curiosity. I found a large library in which I spent many hours running my fingers over the books, anticipating the time when I would be able to sit and read them. I found the kitchen, which was much to my surprise almost completely empty of any food.

There were a few fish in the freezer, and some potatoes in the pantry, but other than that there was next to nothing. I wondered if Mr. Collins was accustomed to taking his meals outside of the house.

The rest of the day passed rather quickly. I cleaned up and made a meal to the best of my ability with the few stocks I had, finally being able to light the candles in the long dinning room and set the food out with satisfaction.

Outside, the sun set with creeping slowness. I sat waiting in a small alcove outside of the entry hall, waiting for Mr. Collins to arrive. No one came. The clock on the wall across from me went tick-tick-tick in a lulling beat as it marked the time from 6:30 to 7:00. I closed my eyes, determined to wait.

Suddenly I was waking up to a booming voice demanding an explanation for my presence.

"Well?" the voice said, and I looked around groggily for the source. "Do you know that if I had thought you a burglar, you wouldn't be waking up now?"

I rose to my feet, still looking for the person speaking. It was completely dark now, and though there were candles and lamps burning in the receiving room, the entry hall was completely dark.

"Forgive me, sir, but I cannot see you." I stammered, trying to move into the light. A hand wrapped around my arm and pulled me into it. I looked up to see a tall, severe-looking man staring down at me with flat brown eyes.

"What are you doing in my house?" he demanded again.

"I'm your new housekeeper." I replied, bowing my head, assuming the man before me was Mr. Collins. "You're sister sent me."

I looked up in time to see something flash across his face before inexplicable anger dashed it away. He removed his hand from my arm and moved it up to my throat, closing around it and lifting me up with brute strength.

"WHAT DID YOU SAY?" he snarled, shaking me. "MY SISTER DID NOT SEND YOU! TELL THE TRUTH, OR BY GOD YOU WILL NOT LIVE TO SEE THE DAWN!!"

I choked, reaching up to tug at his arm. It might as well have been made of stone, for all the good it did me. I began struggling.

"She did!" I gasped. "I swear it! I was hired by Sarah Collins! There's a letter in my pocket that she left for me this morning!"

Everything began to go dark as he squeezed harder.

"Barnabas, please." I whispered. I don't know why I called him by his first name. I only know that I was having the life choked out of me for an unknown reason, and I had to make him see the truth. I lowered my hand into the pocket on my skirt and pulled out the crumpled letter, flicking it at him.

He dropped me to catch it. I lay there, on the ground, looking up at him in the dim light as he inspected the letter's envelope, then the letter itself. I could have sworn I saw tears in his eyes as he read it. He shook his head, and then looked down at me, all the malice and anger gone from his face, replaced with intense worry and grief.

"Forgive me." He whispered, helping me up. "I haven't seen my sister in a long time, so you must understand that the idea of her setting this up for me is almost unbelievable."

I said nothing as he helped me to the couch before retreating to a chair opposite me. I sat quite still, as though I was afraid I might scare him with movement. He looked intently at me, then down at the letter again, shaking his head. I took the opportunity to observe my new employer. He was indeed tall, though he slouched in the chair as he read the letter over and over, every now and then glancing at me with an odd expression. He had soft brown hair that receded into a kind of cliff on his forehead, giving him the same old-world look as the rest of the house. His eyes were set under deep, arched brow bones, centered by a long, aristocratic nose. His cheekbones were uncharacteristically high and elegant for a man, but perhaps it was his hallow cheeks that made them seem so. All together, I allowed myself the thought that he was a rather gorgeous and strong-looking man.

It must have been the Collin family genes.

At last he looked up from the letter, tucked it at me, and began looking me over as I had done him. I flushed slightly as his eyes lingered on my lips and neck, drawing his attention there. His severe face broke into a smile as he watched it, and I could even see humor dancing in his brown eyes.

"I apologize again for having hurt you, Miss Snow." He said at last, leaning back in his chair. "With this house newly restored, I greatly expect thieves to attempt to steal at least once or twice."

"That's alright." I said quietly. He leaned forward, concerned.

"Are you sure?" he asked. "Have I hurt your throat? You can hardly speak at all!"

I blushed more, feeling embarrassed at his mention of my shyness.

"It's not hurt." I said, trying to speak louder and failing. "This is just how I am during first introductions. Forgive me, but ours hasn't exactly gone well."

He nodded as though he understood completely. I rose, dusting myself off.

"Well, Master Collins." I said formally. "I have prepared your supper, although you are late in taking it this evening. In the future I will be better informed so that I might prepare it closer to your preferred meal times."

He said nothing.

"You DO eat here, don't you?" I asked, nervous that perhaps he went out to eat nightly.

He shook himself.

"Of course." He replied smoothly, rising from the chair. I smiled sleepily at him.

"Good. I will see you tomorrow perhaps. I think proper reparations for strangling me will be for you to do the dishes after your meal tonight." My smile turned sly. "Have a pleasant meal, Master Collins. I will see you on the morrow."