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Even as a young girl, Lucille had despised the idea of marrying some man that would take her away from her home and from her brother. As they grew older, her dislike had turned to hatred as their parents had started to introduce Thomas to. They were all pale, insipid, pretty and vapid girls who looked like porcelain dolls with their pale skim, watery blue eyes and pale blond hair. They were weak in appearance and weak in disposition. When introduced to Lucille at some tea or other acceptable social event for young unmarried ladies, they would always be shy and reserved around her.
Her mother would lecture her for hours after an event where she had felt that Lucille had embarrassed herself and her family just by being her. Lucille would be forced to listen to rubbish about how no man would ever want her unless she was more demure, more placid, more retiring and more quiet at all times. Young ladies were not allowed to have an opinion that was their own. The only thing that kept her going was the fact that Thomas did not want her to change. Thomas was content with who she was.
He professed his love for her and told her that he would - nay could - never love another.
* * *
When their parents had died, Lucille had mistakenly believed that she would never have to deal with another pretty, pale, vapid wisp of a girl being paraded in front of Thomas for the sake of him marrying and begetting a heir to continue on the family line. There would be no more potential bride for Thomas and there would be no potential groom for her. They could be however they wanted and no one would stand in their way
Lucille had been wrong. So very wrong.
At first, they had been left alone, allowed to mourn the tragedy of their mother's death. Their once grand house had slowly fallen into disrepair while Lucille had donned black clothing that suited her far more than the pretty pastel colours young women her age were expected to wear. Thomas worked on the mine and tried to figure out ways to make it productive so that they could have enough money to rebuild the house and to live however they wanted.
It had been easy to sneak into his attic room and seduce him once again. She had made him her very own night by night. First by acting like a shy timid bride and then eventually by dominating her brother.
She had made the mistake of trusting him, believing his quiet words, his murmured devotions and she believed that she had been enough for him. Thomas was clever enough to find a solution to their financial troubles and he would make the mine successful again. And she would remain at their home. To the world, she would be the forever mourning daughter who's sole purpose in life was to care for her brother.
* * *
After the first year of mourning, Thomas had gone to London to find investors for the mine and his invention that would bring their family back to it's proper standing. For the two months that he was away, Lucille had missed him but at the same time, she had relished the freedom of being the sole occupant of Allerdale Hall. For a while, she imagined that it was her home and that she could do whatever she wishes with no one, not even Thomas, to say no to her.
Thomas had arrived home with a pittance in money and a bride on his arm. Lucille could have forgiven him for his betrayal if his bride had been rich. But she had not been. And Lucille had loathed the married pair. She had no desire for a husband despite her sister-in-law's shy suggestions. Even Thomas had suggested that perhaps Lucille would be happier if she had a husband and home to call her own.
The following day, she had started to giving her weak sister a daily cup of a tisane that was supposed to help make her healthier so that she could withstand the cold and lonely environment of Allerdale Hall.
In a week, she was back in her brother's attic domain, forcing him to submit to her will. He admitted that he had made a mistake. He blamed it on his own failure.
Lucille would never trust him again. Not even when his first wife died.
* * *
By time that Thomas had brought the beautiful Edith Cushing home as his newest bride, Lucille felt tired. Thomas would tell her over and over that he only loved her and that he belonged to her just as she belonged to him, but Lucille no longer believed him. Not with the blood that coated her hands, the blood that she could never wash off as if she was some modern day Lady Macbeth.
At first, the only improvement that Lucile could see with Edith was that she was all alone in the world but she was very rich.. Once she was dead, they would finally have money and maybe, just maybe, she would be enough for Thomas.
She had started with the tisane when Edith had complained of ill health. Thomas had been angry but he had agreed. Edith was far too clever for the pair of them. Lucille lived in a state of constant fear that Edith would pick up on something that would cause everything to fall apart and for Lucille to be taken away from Thomas for good this time.
* * *
Edith did her best to heed Thomas' instructions and to not drink Lucille's bitter cup of tea that was supposed to make her well again. But the bitterness of the tea seemed to seep into the cup of porridge that Lucille would bring her for breakfast. And into the beef tea for lunch and the soup at dinner. The bitterness would coat her tongue and fill her with such lethargy as she could barely move from bed.
The weight of Lucille's cold gaze and judgment seemed to make it even harder for her to get out of bed. Thomas didn't seem to mind if his newly married wife was an invalid who could not consummate their marriage. He would murmur that the time would come when she would be better and she would be his wife in all ways.
* * *
When she sees them together, everything falls into place for Edith. She realizes that she has a choice. Even as she takes in the slight movement as Lucille shifts as if she's a predator about to pounce on her prey. Edith knows that she can turn away from this tableau of what is surely madness and she can listen to the ghosts of Allerdale Hall and she can run, she can run from her husband and his lover, her sister-in-law, and she can from the madness of the house and the pair in front of her.
Or she can step forward and let Lucille know that she is willing to accept this madness, willing to embrace it, willing to be enslaved by Lucille as surely Thomas is.
* * *
Lucille knows that Thomas' little butterfly will run. And she feels regret that she must once more taint her soul and kill this pretty girl. The one girl that she would have been wiling to accept if only the girl wasn't so conventional.
* * *
Thomas holds his breath.
He has wanted to possess Edith from the moment that he first laid eyes upon her in her father's office. He had known that she was different. Lucille's complete opposite and so very different from his prim and proper wives that had come before.
The only thing that had stood in his way of possessing her had been her father. And Lucille had done what she had always done for him. She had cleared the way. He could never understand her anger at his desire and want for Edith even when she had done everything to ensure that he could posses the girl that Lucille likened to a gilded butterfly.
If Edith runs, Thomas knows in his heart that he will choose her. And it will destroy Lucille just as surely as it will destroy him.
* * *
The ghostly shrieks and screams fall silent the moment she places one foot in front of the other, her mind barely made up. The tension seems to flow out of Thomas' body as he raises his hand up. Lucille relaxes as Edith puts her hand into Thomas' and steps fully into the room.
Edith has made a decision that will change her life. She's not sure if she's made the appropriate one but everything changes as Thomas tugs her closer and Lucille's sharp smile gentles and the bitterness that has coated her tongue for weeks seems to fade away.
(( END ))