Page 33 of Beloved Beast

Again, she had no idea. How Glenna tolerated his constant attentions he could not explain. But she did, matching his passion and giving as much as she could in return. But eleven years had passed, and as he stared at Gillian longingly, he could hear Glenna saying, “Live for both of us, Luke. Embrace life. Accept love. Do not ever feel guilty for it.”

This brief interlude was an oasis for both of them. Why not enjoy it? “Well, let us take the tour for now.” He stood, and placed his cup and saucer on the tray. “It won’t take long. The tea and rolls will keep. Come.”

Once she stood, she followed him out through the kitchen to the door leading to the cellar. Luke grabbed the two battery-operated torches from the counter, flicked the switches, and then handed her one. He could do this, face his past. With a deep breath and an exhale, he opened the door and descended the stairs, Gillian right behind him.

A musty, stale smell filled his senses. Moving the light about the area, he observed many cobwebs in every corner and crevice. When he reached the landing, the light glanced across the large oak door leading into Reed’s secret world. He pulled on the door and the rusty hinges creaked and moaned in response. Crossing the threshold, he looked about, and Gillian followed his light path with her own.

The emptiness was startling. Standing in the doorway of the study, snippets of memories raced through him. This was his hiding place after he had been reanimated. All the books, the desk, leather sofa, all gone. A dead squirrel lay in the hearth, his dried corpse no doubt there for many months.

“What’s that?” Gillian asked, her light focusing on an object propped against the wall. She stepped around him and walked over to the item. “Oh, it’s a painting. A large one.” She turned it around to show him and Luke’s heart dropped clear to his toes. “A lighthouse on a cliff, how beautifully painted. The woman is quite pretty.”

Luke made his shaking legs move forward. He’d painted it for Glenna’s fortieth birthday. The portrait showed her standing on the edge of the cliff, the waves crashing below with the lighthouse in the background. The wind tousled her golden brown hair in all directions, her dress billowing behind her, showing her curves. Gulls flied overhead. Everything she longed for had come to pass: living by the ocean. He painted it as she had described it all those years ago during one of his innocent visits to her bedroom where they talked for hours.

“How I long to live by the sea. The sound of the waves battering against the rocks. To hear gulls squawking overhead and smell the salt air and feel the cool mist against my cheek would be absolute heaven. I have often dreamed of living in a house high on a cliff overlooking a rugged coastline.”

How he’d yearned to give her everything, and he made sure he did. Luke became a lighthouse keeper not only for the solitude but to give Glenna what she most desired. When she died, he gave the painting to Reed and Clara, for he could not bear to look at it. They did not take it with them to London; it was too big to hang in their small parlor. He had told them to leave it at the house and he would pick it up at a later date.

But he never did. Now the memories of her horrible and senseless death came rushing back, flooding his already troubled mind.

“Is the woman in the painting Fred’s mother?” Gillian asked, pulling him to the present.

“No,” he whispered. “It’s my wife.”

Her eyes widened and he guessed she puzzled the fact the woman in the portrait was not a young one. Luke did not want to talk about any of this. He grasped the top of the frame, pulled it from her hands, and placed it against the wall in the position it had been found.

“She was older than you?”

Technically yes, but no. Instead he gave her a curt response of “Yes.” Grasping her elbow, he steered her from the room, escorting her to the laboratory area. It, too, was empty. The only occupants in the room were vaporous reminiscences. Luke could have sworn he smelled burnt skin. Absently, he rubbed the top of his right hand where wires had been attached and the electricity had scorched him.

Far off voices swirled in his head.

“Like it or not, Reed, this man lying here is your responsibility.”

Reed laughed with a cruel tone. “Mine? It’s an experiment, nothing more. I should send it back to whence it came.”

Glenna stood at his side, as if protecting him, and he felt strangely comforted by the gesture. “You will not do any such thing. Like it or not, he’s alive. I begged you not to do it, now you must live with the consequences.”

Yes, the consequences. It didn’t take long for them all to come to the conclusion he was beyond human. Memories could be a curse as much as a comfort. He pushed them aside and walked toward the empty bookcase. Recalling Fred’s instructions, he pushed on the top right corner and it popped open. Using his torch to find the light switch, the tunnel became illuminated in a dim but serviceable light.

Gillian peered around him. “My God.”

“This leads to a secluded area by the River Mole.” He stepped into the tunnel, crouching down slightly to accommodate his height. Gillian followed behind him and they wound their way through the tight space. “Ah.” He opened a wooden crate. “As Fred stated. Weapons. Pistols, a couple of grenades. Ammunition. Knives. I also have my Webley service revolver in my luggage and I keep a knife in my boot.”

“Do you expect we will have to use any of this?” she asked as she stared at the contents of the crate.

“Let us hope not. I think it wise we not become too comfortable here. You have two pieces of luggage, correct?”

Gillian nodded.

“I would suggest packing one for an emergency escape. We will keep it here in the tunnel. I believe it wise we use this when we leave anyway. We will see. Keep your identification on you, not in your luggage.” Luke reached in the crate, pulled out a small knife, and handed it to her. “Do you know how to use this?”

“I was trained some years ago.”

“Keep it in your boot. And you should wear them at all times.” He glanced down at her stocking feet. “You should have them on now.” He scooped her up in his arms. “You need someone to look after you, my girl.”

“And you are the man for the job?” she smiled.

“For now.”