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Poor mouse. Poor fox, too.
His eyes flashed in amusement. “Poor fox? Poor mouse? Poor me. I’d lost my boon companion. We had adventures, Bilbo and I. We sailed the high seas. He made an excellent first mate.”
He must have been a lonely boy, to live in such a make-believe world.
“I know what you’re thinking. God, you have a glass face. I was a bit lonely. I was older than my brothers, and my sister hadn’t come along yet. There were few boys my age around the estate that summer, but it all changed in the autumn. I was sent off to school, and I’ve not been lonely since. Now, are you almost finished? Maddee will wonder what’s become of us.”
Taylor finished the last of her tea and stood up.
Ready. Just let me grab my sweater. What’s freshly blooded mean?
Memphis escorted Taylor down to the first floor through a separate stairwell, explaining the intricate etiquette of a first kill. When he got to the part about having a bit of the fox’s blood smeared on his face, she held up a hand and stopped him. She didn’t need to know any more.
They ended up in the southernmost part of the castle, close to the public banquet hall, before trailing back around to a room done up in burgundy and cream. Taylor would never find her way back alone.
A woman sat in front of the fire, staring into its depths. When she heard them arrive, she stood and came to Taylor, hand outstretched. Her hair was dark and long, straight as an arrow, her smile friendly, her eyes brown and warm. She was Taylor’s age, no more than thirty-five or so.
“You must be Taylor. I’m Dr. Madeira James, à votre service. But please, call me Maddee.” Her accent was a shock, much more New York than Scotland. Taylor’s face must have showed her surprise, because Maddee said, “Long Island, born and bred. I fit in so nicely amongst the locals.”
Taylor laughed. She felt a bit like that herself.
Good to meet you.
“And you. Memphis has told me so much about you. Though he didn’t do you justice. You’re right, Memphis, she’s stu
Taylor squirmed. She hated those kinds of accolades. She was much more than the sum of her exterior parts.
“And humble as pie, Maddee. Look at her blush.” He was gri
“Stop teasing her, Memphis. It’s not nice. You run along and we’ll see you in an hour.”
“As you wish, Dr. James.” Memphis bowed and with a smile at Taylor, turned tail and left the room, leaving the two women alone.
Maddee took Taylor’s arm and linked hers through it. She smelled good, like the fire, and vanilla, and an earthier, underlying scent, like she’d gotten some outdoor exercise this morning, the wind in her hair leaving the scent of the Highlands behind.
“We’re going to get along just fine. Ignore him, he loves to poke.”
No kidding, Taylor thought.
“Come, sit down. I’ve got tea for us already, unless you’d like something else?”
Tea is fine. Thank you.
They took their places, Taylor on the leather sofa, Maddee on an upright Victorian chair that looked to be an original, reupholstered in Brunschwig & Fils gray silk brocade. Probably worth a fortune.
When she saw Taylor was settled, she dove right in.
“So. I’m sorry for teasing you earlier. Memphis fancies you, and I’m wildly jealous. He’s the most eligible bachelor in five counties.”
Taylor wasn’t sure what to make of that.
Well, you’re welcome to him. I’m engaged.
“And I’m married.” Maddee burst out laughing, a genuine and infectious sound. “I adore him though. Evan’s death has changed him. He used to be completely carefree, wicked good at his job, on top of the world. Sorrow isn’t an emotion he wears well, I’m afraid. He’s the kind of man who should have a woman.”
She drifted off for a moment, then smiled brightly again. “Enough of that for now. So your voice hasn’t made a full comeback yet. I spoke to Dr. Willig at length yesterday. Lovely woman. She said you saw some progress after EMDR. Would you like to continue that therapy?”
Yes. I need to get rid of these memories.
“Are they memories? Or are you having flashbacks?”
Taylor didn’t respond.
“You know that EMDR won’t banish the past. It’s just going to make the memories less painful to deal with, and help you manage your emotions during the flashbacks. Besides, you don’t really want to forget, not entirely. It keeps you sharp, remembering the bad stuff. You really should be journaling. Writing down all your thoughts, emotions. It’s truly the best therapy you can engage in. By revisiting the memories, putting them down on paper, you’re desensitizing yourself to them. I’ve been journaling since I was a teenager. Daily. Religiously. Thank goodness for computers, my stack of notebooks was threatening to topple me.” She laughed, and Taylor smiled.
I’ve never had that kind of discipline, to be honest. And if I’m being frank, I’d like to exorcise it all.
“Would it be easier for you to type? I have a laptop here you can use.”
Taylor nodded.
Maddee got out her laptop, a sleek eleven-inch MacBook Air, booted it up and opened it to a blank page for Taylor. They settled into their seats.
“Let’s talk about what you find most objectionable to remember. Then we’ll do some EMDR.” She waved her hand, and Taylor saw the familiar implements on the table next to her.
My friend, Sam, was hurt very badly. I need to get the look of pain and anger on Sam’s face out of my head. I don’t want to live with that as a part of me. I failed her, and she let down her guard and allowed me to know it. It’s haunting me.
“Sam was your friend who was kidnapped, right? I’ve read the notes from Dr. Willig. It seems she covered many of those issues at your first visit, correct?”
“Yes.”
“Well then. Let’s get started. I do things a little different.
I want to lead you through a series of exercises that will help you relax before we get the EMDR underway.”
I am relaxed.
Maddee smiled gently at her. “I beg to differ, my dear.
You’re obviously under a great deal of stress. You’ve got dark circles under your eyes. You didn’t sleep. Your neck hurts too, doesn’t it? You’re holding it fu
Her neck was sore, and her shoulders needed a good massage, but she wasn’t going to admit that.
Strange pillows.
“Mmm-hmm. Right. Do you get any sort of regular sleep? I see here that you have a long history of insomnia. Why don’t they give you something for that?”
We tried, once. Ambien. I had a terrible reaction to it. I’d rather not sleep than take medication for it.
“There are other really excellent drugs we could try. Sleep is vital for your recovery. It helps your brain to reset. When we’re working on the neural pathways, it’s essential that we get you at least six hours a night.”
Taylor shook her head in protest, but Maddee held up a hand to stop her.
“Just hold on a second. There are all kinds of pharmaceuticals out there for sleep, but I prefer to go all-natural. Melatonin. Helps regulate your system, and you will find it helps with the jet lag as well. I want you to start taking it tonight.” She handed Taylor an amber bottle.
I hate to take more pills. It’s like admitting defeat.
“But you’re willingly taking the Fioricet and the Ativan. And don’t you have a prescription for Percocet, too? Your pupils are pinpoint, I assume you’ve been availing yourself of that one at least. So this isn’t really different. Trust me, Taylor. This will help you. And that’s all I want to do here, is help.”
Busted.
All right. I’ll try it.
“Thank you. Let’s do a little relaxation exercise, too, just to humor me.”
Taylor settled into the sofa, her hands folded loosely in her lap. Maddee’s voice was low and soft, caressing.