4
A shocked and surprised look from Angelique toward Barnabas accompanied her reunion with Victoria. She was terrified at first; after all, it had been Vicki who had deduced she was the real witch in the original timeline, but in this revised history, she learned that after Barnabas had slain his brother, Jeremiah, over the love of Josette DuPres, that Victoria and Angelique had become friends and bonded over caring for Barnabas during his resulting sickness. In this revised history, Victoria seemed to have no memories of coming from the future. She and Peter had married, moved to Bangor and had a son, Peter, now a young cadet at West Point. Vicki had become the wife of a lawyer in the Bangor elite among the other wives of other career-minded men, but she had forever stayed close to the Collins family and was very well liked by the children.
"Victoria…" Josette arrived from the Old House with Quentin. "Welcome back to Collinsport." The two ladies regaled each other and held each other hands with all the etiquette of the British Royal Family. "I'm sorry I have not been to Bangor to see you, but… the demands of my life here…"
"I understand…"
"Victoria…" Quentin gasped nervously and gestured to finally meet this governess and time-misplaced sister of Carolyn he had never met. Upon holding her fingers, Vicki gasped and lightly swayed with confusion. Barnabas wanted her to meet George and Jenny McBeal but hesitated from the introductions to see Vicki met with confusion upon meeting Quentin. Peter rushed to her side.
"Vicki, are you all right?"
"Sorry, Quentin…" Vicki gasped and recomposed herself. "I just had a strange feeling of uncertainty upon seeing your face." She looked to Peter then to Willie and Sara sipping sherry by the fireplace under the portrait of Isaac Collins. "I know you, but… it feels fake. I don't know how, but…"
Barnabas, Willie and Angelique exchanged glances. Maybe Vicki retained some memories of their true history after all.
"Vicki, would you like me to help you upstairs?" Sara advanced on her former governess.
"No, Sara, I'll be all right."
"Perhaps it was the veal at dinner…" Barnabas looked fleetingly to Josette then to Angelique. "I thought it was a might under cooked." He raised his glass and poured the last of his brandy down his throat.
"I hope you're blaming the servants and not me." Angelique looked up from the sofa by his side. "I have not cooked by wood-burning stove in ages."
"Well, what else would you cook from?" George asked and Angelique quickly found herself at the target of several confused faces. Sara lightly tilted her head toward her, and Josette seemed to pose with her sherry. Naomi looked over from the fireplace where she rested her bones. Quentin and Willie forced out some restained chuckling.
"Private joke…" Barnabas stepped forward. "When we met in Martinique, I showed Angelique how the Native Pueblo tribes of the Southwest United States Territories cooked by heating rocks to bake bread." He gasped awkwardly. It was not a good answer, but it would break the confusion. "Truth be told, Angelique has the staff cover most of the meals." He looked up to the doors of the drawing room. Willie and Sara's son, Jason Roger Loomis was standing there waiting for his chance to speak before his elders. It was quite a change for the miscreant heir whose true personality was often loud and explosive. Garbed in the attire of the time, J.R's typically wild hair was combed back into a small tail and he sported a large dark brown beard covering much of his face. Willie turned to face the young man.
"Father, I apologize for interrupting, but I bring a message from Boston from Mr. McGuire." J.R. spoke flatly.
"Jason?" Willie looked around nervously.
"He won't be able to make the wedding of William to the daughter of Mr. and Mrs. McBeal."
"Did he say why?"
"No, but I would expect his sitting in a jail cell had something to do with it." J.R. commented with a wry pitch to his voice. Without knowing it, he had added another element to the strange mystery of the two merged histories. "May I be excused?"
"Yes, of course…"
"Thank you," He looked to Angelique. "Aunt Ann, might I receive a meal from you?"
"The servants will make you a plate." Angelique replied.
"Thank you…" The former scoundrel turned away still dusting dust from his boots and cape from his horse ride from Boston. He would have preferred to come up in the carriage with his parents and siblings, but instead, he had to stay behind and bring news from his father's old friends. After a choice dinner of partially undercooked veal with stewed tomatoes, whole potatoes and fresh bread, he sought the company of his cousins. William was off with Ally somewhere. Sara and Lizzie were in town looking for dresses to wear to the wedding and his eighteen-year-old brother, Christopher, was off with Jamison to Rockport to find dates in time for the wedding. That left his cousin, Gabriel and Quentin the Younger, two flighty boys he tried to avoid at all costs and Josette's daughter, Amanda, prowling the estate somewhere.
"Hello, Cousin…" Amanda stood on the top landing of the back stairway between the dining room and the drawing room. She appeared before him dressed in a tight full-length dress, her figure about to burst from the bodice. Her long red hair was darker, almost auburn. A secretive grin joined by mischievous eyes decorated her face.
"What do you want?"
"I made something for you." She pulled out a rag doll in tiny clothes made from tatters of his old clothing. It had a tiny face and beard painted on it, and its hairline had been specifically painted to resemble his.
"What's that ugly thing?"
"J.R., it's you!" She grinned very pleased over it. "I worked very hard on it."
"You shouldn't have…" He continued onward to his room, but she stopped him and pulled a fingerful of beard from his face. Wincing from the pain, he turned round with one eye opened, the other tearing up and contorted in pain. He watched as Amanda tucked the hair from his beard into her doll.
"And now it is exactly like you!" She grinned effervescently. J.R. could only rub his face and wait for the pain of his damaged follicles to go away.
"Jamison was right." He commented openly. "You're crazy…" He turned away from her looking for his room and bags amidst the extra rooms of the great house. Behind him, Amanda smacked the wall with the doll, and J.R. clutched his head from the violent reverberation through his head. He was feeling what the doll was experiencing. It felt as if his head was exploding, and his eyes were on fire. Pulling a long knitting needle from her long skirts, Amanda stabbed the doll, and J.R. reeled not just from the pain in his head but to something piercing his chest through his back. Hitting the threshold into the upstairs hall, he screamed outward in pain.
"J.R.?" Amanda stood over him with a nasty little grin and shook her doll in his face. "What seems to be the trouble? Does someone have a spell on you?" She cackled happily over her power over him. From behind her, she heard her Aunt Sara running from the downstairs drawing room with her former governess. Coming behind Victoria, Angelique stopped at the bottom stairs and looked up to the top railing. They had heard the screams and came running. Amanda hid her doll behind her back.
"Jason Roger…" Sara Loomis came after her son. "Jason Roger… What's wrong?" She hovered over him on the balcony. The former miscreant couldn't move. His back was arched back in pain; his hands were up over his head. He acted as if he were paralyzed.
"I don't know what happened." Amanda feigned ignorance. "We were just talking when he screamed and hit the floor." She looked secretly to her Aunt Angelique and grinned.
"My back…" J.R. felt his body was not his own. "Mother, I can't move! I think…" He was starting to say something when he screamed out again. Behind her back, Amanda was twisting the doll around to face its back. Victoria looked to Amanda suspiciously. Amanda looked to her and then down to her other aunt.
"Vicki, help me get him to his room!" Sara started lifting her shaking son to his feet. "Then have someone go get Dr. Hoffman in town!" Sara placed her son's shoulder up over her own as Vicki did the same. They carried him to his room down the hall.
"I might have some things I can do to help." Vicki announced. "Peter gets a lot of back problems when he has long trips on horseback."
"I don't know." Sara was distraught. "Why did this have to happen now?" They left Amanda looking innocent on the upstairs balcony. Angelique had moved away to return to the drawing room and the rest of the family. Partially following behind her two aunts, the wild-haired heiress stopped shortly of the west wing and pressed her back to the wall.
"Yes, why did this have to happen now?" Her ruby red lips grinned ecstatically. She lifted her doll up to her lips and whispered to it. "Hear me now, Jason Roger Loomis… Your body is now mine to control. Your voice shall be my voice. Your hands shall be my hands. No words will escape you that do not belong to me first. You will be my lackey." She pressed the doll to her bodice and giggled lightly before jumping and dancing around on the top landing excitedly like a princess relishing her dark power.