The Portrait

I still remember the first time it spoke to me, the portrait of the majestic lady in green that is, like it was yesterday.

Rain was pouring outside, thunder had been repeatedly shaking the foundation while lightning illuminated every dark and dusty corner of the old mansion. I was walking down the hall, about to take the stairs while putting an earring in when I heard a voice.

It was soft and sweet but very serious,

“Your husband has a mistress.”

I stopped, cold sweat appeared on my forehand and my stomach dropped as I turned to face the portrait. There was no way it just uttered those words and such an accusation at that.

“Did you just speak to me?” I asked, trembling with fear.

“Your husband has a mistress.”

This time I saw her lips move elegantly, subtle lines appeared on her forehead and her eyes narrowed in what I presumed to be concern mingled with sorrow. Crows' feet near her temples betrayed her age but affected not her beauty.

“How do you know of such a thing?” I asked, embracing the madness of the moment.

“Well” she spoke with an air of sarcasm, “I am merely a portrait hung on a wall, so one might assume I can only see what is in front me.”

Waves of nausea rolled through me. This painted woman not only accused my husband of infidelity but claimed it happened (or was still happening) in our own home.

A thousand thoughts coursed through my brain like a thunderhead rolling over an open field, bombarding me with wind, rain and lightning. I could hardly breathe. Finally, after what felt like hours, I mustered the courage to speak again as she waited patiently for my reply.

Who could it be? I instantly accused Talia, our maid. Or perhaps it was Sariah, the young woman who harvested our apple orchard every fall and planted flowers in the springtime. No, it was definitely Melissna, the farrier's unwed apprentice who accompanied her mentor on almost every call.

“Who is she?” I finally uttered, not wanting to acknowledge the truth but needing to know the answer.

“The wife of the Reeve.”

“Ashleigha? My God that woman is nigh on her sixth decade!”

“Still yet you believe me, do you not?”

She was right. All the signs were there.

“What do I do?” I sobbed, tears streaming down my face. My makeup was ruined but I had no desire to join my unfaithful husband for the evening. If I didn’t show up the surely he would rush home to seek me out and make sure no tragedy had befallen me.

Or would he?

“I know what I would do.” and she laughed, an eerie, wicked sound that still haunts me to this day.

***

Soon after I found myself to be a widow, you can use your imagination as to how. I also found myself much enjoying the company of the lady, who’s name was Karina.

Nothing went on in my home that I did not know about. When house servants stole, they were shocked when I recounted every detail of their transgressions. A thief broke in one night and when the constables showed up at his door to question him, he broke down sobbing. To his dying day he was a patient at the lunatic asylum three towns over.

Moreover, what baffled and shook our quaint town more so than anything was the uncovering of the plot by my second husband and step-daughter to murder me and lay claim to my small fortune.

The two turned on each other like rabid wolves, accusing each other of divulging their witching hour schemes.

From then on only small occurrences were brought to my attention until late one night, by the light of the pale moon, alone and distraught, I passed from this earth.

***

“And such is my tale, dear child, simply that and no more.”

The young blonde woman who had found the cobweb and dust covered painting just stood and stared, mouth gaped open.

“So sorry to frighten you my dear, but this house has been my home my entire life and in the one thereafter. You can understand my plea to remain, can you not?”

“I can.” the words fumbled out of her quivering mouth.

“Good. Congratulations on your new purchase. This house will make a fine home to raise children. The view of the countryside is breathtaking.”

The woman nodded fervently, eyes still wide with fright.

“And when you draw your final breath, your honor will be to take my place as I have done, as well as all those before me. So what do you say my dear? Does this portrait of me fit the aesthetic of your new home?”