The Lady and the Lake Page 6

  ‘Maggie, fetch Mrs Grafton please, now.’ His voice was more authoritative than I had heard it before.

  ‘Thank you, Mr Kershaw,’ I said with relief. It wasn’t very long before I heard Mrs Grafton’s voice and then Mr Kershaw’s.

  ‘Open this door, Mrs Grafton.’

  She obviously did as she was bid for I heard the jangle of her keys and the key turning in the lock. When the door opened the three of them stood there like characters in a painting, Maggie looking at me with dismay written all over her lovely face, Mrs Grafton with a sheepish look on hers and Antony Kershaw with a face like thunder, his blue eyes flashing with anger as he looked at Mrs Grafton.

  ‘Did you do this, Mrs Grafton?’ he shouted at her, Tor you are the only one with the means to do such a thing.’

  ‘I did, Sir,’ said the housekeeper calmly, ‘on your mother’s instructions.’

  Maggie clapped her hands to her mouth, her eyes like saucers once more, looking at us all in disbelief.

  ‘Go back to the kitchen, Maggie please,’ said Antony Kershaw gently, ‘none of this is your fault, indeed I thank you for fetching me.’ At his words Maggie did as she was bid, but not before she’d dropped a brief curtsey to her master.

  ‘Mrs Grafton, this is not the way I wish my household to be run,’ he admonished her. ‘You have given loyal service for many years, but I didn’t expect your loyalty to my mother to extend to this.’

  ‘And where is your mother?’ I said speaking for the first time, ‘for I wish to speak to her, no, I intend to speak to her.’

  ‘Miss Sinclair,’ Antony Kershaw said turning to me, ‘I know how vexed you must be, but not tonight please.’

  ‘Vexed!’ I shouted the word, ‘I am seething with anger and can no longer contain it.’ So saying I pushed past them both and picking up my skirts headed for the stone staircase, both the Master and the housekeeper not far behind me.

  ‘Miss Sinclair,’ Mr Kershaw’s voice shouted after me, but to no avail I moved faster and burst without ceremony into his mother’s sitting room. The room was quite dark with only an oil lamp burning by her chair. Thankfully I could at least see her.

  ‘What is this Miss Sinclair?’ she shouted at me quite startled sitting up straighter in her chair.

  ‘How dare you lock me in my room like some naughty child,’ I screamed at her, ‘I’m twenty-five years of age and have done nothing to you. Yet since I arrived here you seem intent on disliking me.’

  ‘You went against my wishes and spent the day with my nephew,’ she said quietly.

  ‘Well I can assure you I shan’t be spending time with him in the future, for he is nothing but a charming philanderer,’ I said quite truthfully.

  ‘I’ll thank you not to speak like that about Thomas,’ Henrietta said harshly, ‘I will not have it.’

  ‘Well, before you dismiss me, Miss Henrietta Kershaw, I resign, for to stay in this house any longer would be torture,’ I said with triumph, pleased that I had at last answered her back.

  ‘And where were you today, Miss Sinclair at two o’clock when I requested that you read to me? For after all that is what I employed you for.’ Mrs Kershaw’s words were true and she spoke them in a much softer tone.

  ‘For that, I apologise,’ I conceded, ‘for I shouldn’t have gone with Thomas, but unfortunately I let my heart rule my head.’

  ‘Quite out of character I should imagine Abigail, but I accept your apology, you have spirit and I like a girl with spirit.’ I could not believe that Henrietta Kershaw had spoken these words.

  ‘Please stay, Miss Sinclair,’ Antony Kershaw’s voice cut across our conversation. ‘Don’t be hasty,’ he implored. I turned to look at him and saw Mrs Grafton hovering in the doorway.

  ‘I’m tired now,’ said the old lady, ‘please leave me for I need to go to my bed. Sleep on it, girl,’ she directed at me, ‘and we shall continue this conversation another time.’

  ‘Very well,’ I agreed and bade her goodnight. Mrs Grafton stayed with her mistress while Antony Kershaw and I walked together along the corridor.

  ‘Please accompany me to the drawing room, Miss Sinclair, for I wish to talk to you,’ he requested. So I followed him and entered one of the hallowed rooms of Kerslake Hall.

  ‘Would you like a glass of sherry to calm your nerves, Miss Sinclair, or perhaps a strong cup of sweet tea,’ he asked.

  ‘Tea sounds wonderful.’ As I spoke he pulled a cord by the fireplace and in no time at all Maggie appeared, her expression agog as to what was going on.

  ‘Miss Sinclair,’ the master began, ‘please think carefully about leaving for I would like you to stay. I know Emily has taken to you and please at least remain for her birthday party, for she has told me of her invitation to you.’

  ‘Mr Kershaw, I have something to discuss with you concerning Emily’s party.’ I spoke realising that this was my chance to mention Clara. ‘I did a very foolish thing the other day and invited Clara White to the party. It was something I did on impulse and I know it was wrong, but I feel it would be good for Emily to have another child to talk to.’

  I said the words without taking a breath and waited for his reply. There was a long pause before he spoke.

  ‘Then let her come, Miss Sinclair. That is if Clara’s parents will agree to it.’

  ‘Thank you, Mr Kershaw, I shall call and see Mr and Mrs White on Monday,’ I said, relieved that the subject had been received so well.

  ‘You do know, don’t you, that Clara’s sister was found in our lake?’ he asked me.

  ‘I do indeed. Are the police any nearer to solving the mystery?’ I bravely said for really it was none of my business.

  ‘Unfortunately not, but they do think someone held her underwater as bruises have been discovered on her neck,’ he told me quite candidly, placing his cup and saucer back on the tray.

  This piece of news alarmed me but I wouldn’t let it show.

  ‘Would you like to be moved to another room?’ he said suddenly changing the conversation.

  I was tempted to agree to this in view of the nocturnal occurrences, but quite surprised myself when I replied, ‘No thank you, it is very kind of you, but I have settled in and am quite happy.’

  ‘As long as you are sure,’ he replied, ‘for I wish you to be happy here, Miss Sinclair. I value your presence in the house and as for my cousin Thomas, he won’t be here much longer to cause you distraction.’

  ‘I feel very foolish regarding my association with your cousin,’ I admitted.

  ‘Let it not trouble you, Miss Sinclair, for he has many strings to his bow and is indeed charming to all the women folk he meets. I’m only sorry that he cast his spell on you, but please think no more of it. Look upon it as another lesson learned in the pursuit of love.’

  His words were kind and understanding, but he had more to say. ‘You no doubt know what happened to my wife, Phoebe, for it is difficult to keep anything secret in this household.’

  ‘Yes, I did hear of her tragic accident in the lake for which I am truly sorry.’ I assured him.

  ‘And it was an accident, although the residents of Beckmoor would have it that I killed her. To what gain I cannot imagine for all I have is a motherless child, a sad heart and this huge lonely house. Plus my mother who is not the easiest of people to please.’

  He rambled on and I had half a mind to tell him of the incidents I’d experienced in the tower but no, I’d leave it until I got to know him better for it may only add to his distress. He continued, ‘And there again I think the villagers confuse me for my cousin who cannot keep away from any pretty lass, young, old, rich or poor but I am not a philanderer, Miss Sinclair, no matter what accusations you may hear about me they are most probably untrue, I trust you believe me?’

  ‘I do indeed,’ I said honestly for I truly believed he was a good man.

  ‘Then away to your bed young woman, you must be tired and accept my assurance that the unfortunate incident of this evening will not be repeated,
’ he said with sincerity.

  ‘Thank you, Mr Kershaw,’ I said rising from the comfortable chair, ‘I’ll bid you goodnight.’

  As I reached the door his voice stopped me in my tracks. ‘You look quite lovely when you are angry. Sleep well, Miss Sinclair.’ I looked back at him and we smiled at each other. I felt at that moment we had forged a bond and I was thankful for it.

  ***

  Reaching my room I felt quite elated, my blue dress still lay across the bed, the silk flowers strewn across it, all I had to do now was stitch them in place and look my best. But for whom? Certainly not Thomas Craddock and what about the master?

  I felt now that I knew him better and quite warmed to him, but I must not be too hasty with my affections or see into things which did not exist.

  As Antony Kershaw so rightly said, Thomas was a lesson in my pursuit of love. How astute he had been and not at all judgmental.

  Snuggling down in the covers I went to sleep quite quickly only to be awoken a short time later by the piercing scream. I sat up in bed debating whether to go to the tower, but I decided against it as I was too weary, another night would have to suffice when I could unlock the mystery of the woman in white and I prayed also that the mystery surrounding Annie and Gladys’s death would be resolved soon.

  With these thoughts I drifted into a peaceful sleep, Antony Kershaw’s words running through my mind. ‘You look quite lovely when you are angry.’ I smiled contentedly, not a thought of Thomas in my head.

  Next day, I spent all afternoon stitching the flowers on the shoulders and waist of my blue dress. It was a painstaking task but the end result was worth it.

  When I finished I hung the dress on the outside of the wardrobe so that any creases would have a chance to fall out. While sewing I thought how quickly my first week at the Hall had passed and of the many things that had happened since my arrival. The mystery woman in the tower, the demise of poor Gladys, teaching in the schoolroom and my unfortunate association with Thomas Craddock.

  In view of what I’d learned of him the thought crossed my mind that he could after all be the man the police were searching for, but I dismissed the thought quickly from my mind, after all who was I to judge anyone?

  ‘What have you been doing today, Miss?’ asked Maggie at supper. On telling her of my dress for Emily’s party she was keen to see it, ‘Will you show me tomorrow afternoon please Miss as it’s my day off?’ she asked with some excitement in her voice as I’d built up quite a rapport with Maggie.

  ‘But of course. I have to go to the village in the morning, but I shall seek you out on my return.’ Maggie seemed more than pleased about this.

  That night all was quiet in the tower and I enjoyed an uninterrupted sleep. The next morning looking out of the window I could see that the good weather was still with us. I was a little apprehensive about calling at the Whites’ cottage, but none-the-less felt I must go as I didn’t wish to let anyone else down and Clara was probably looking forward to attending a party.

  I decided to walk to the village and so set off after breakfast, no-one else was in sight on the road which cut its way through the moorland to the village. The cottage door was answered by Mrs White who stepped to one side so I could cross the brass doorstep.

  ‘You’ve come to ask about Clara,’ she said as I followed her into the small kitchen-come-living-room.

  ‘I promised I would, Mrs White,’ I said, ‘how are you today?’

  ‘I’m beginning to feel better.’ As she spoke the words I could see that her cheeks looked pinker today replacing the pallor of last week.

  ‘And have you reached a decision about Clara coming to the Hall with me on Thursday?’ I asked gently, noting the bed made up under the large scrubbed table in one corner.

  ‘Aye, we have,’ said Mrs White, sitting on a kitchen chair by the table. ‘Took my husband some persuading I can tell you, but Clara can come on the understanding that you won’t let the child out of your sight.’

  ‘That’s splendid,’ I enthused, ‘and I give you my promise that I shall keep Clara safely with me. I’ll collect her after school if that’s all right with you.’

  ‘Aye, and I trust you’ll see her safely home.’ Mrs White got up as she spoke and picked a package up off the small dresser. ‘This is Clara’s best dress, she has no other shoes, I’m afraid,’ she said, handing me the brown paper package tied neatly with string.

  ‘Don’t worry, I will ensure she looks her best and I shall see Clara home myself,’ I promised.

  ***

  When I left the cottage some time later with the brown parcel under my arm, I bumped into Harry.

  ‘How you doing, Miss?’ he asked cheekily.

  ‘Fine, thank you, Harry, everything is going splendidly.’ Little did I know at that moment that things weren’t as splendid as I thought.

  Arriving back at the Hall I made my way to the kitchen to look for Maggie. She was sat at the table helping another maid to clean the silver which was spread out on a white sheet.

  ‘Right, Miss, I’m coming,’ said Maggie when she saw me. We walked up the stone staircase which was now so familiar to me. Maggie followed me into my room. I placed the parcel Mrs White had given me on the bed and then looked in dismay at my dress which still hung on the wardrobe. The flowers which I’d so carefully stitched on the day before were strewn on the floor. Some cruel person had systematically cut them away from the dress while I’d been out and my mind flew to Mrs Grafton.

  8

  ‘Oh, Miss!’ said Maggie helping me gather up the flowers. ‘Who would do such a thing?’

  ‘At this moment in time I have no idea, but intend to find out,’ I said, placing the flowers on the bed once more.

  ‘I’ll help sew them back on Miss, I’m really quite good at needlework. I’d like to have done it for a living, but Ma says it would spoil my eyesight.’ As she spoke I took down the dress and looked at it carefully, there were a couple of nicks in the fabric on the shoulder but this could be put right.

  ‘Thank you for the offer Maggie, could we do it in your room?’ I asked, not wanting to leave the dress here again for the same fate to befall it.

  ‘We could Miss, I share the room with Ruth but she won’t mind.’

  ***

  We stitched together all evening, Maggie working on the waist and I on the shoulder, she was indeed a good needlewoman. From time to time I glanced around the room, almost taken up completely by two beds. I thought my room was sparse, but in comparison mine was a palace. There was just a rail placed in an alcove for their clothes which were few, and an old wooden stand on which stood a cracked washbowl and jug.

  ‘There, that looks a picture, Miss,’ said Maggie when we’d finished and I had to agree. ‘I’ll put it on the rail, Miss, and no-one but Ruth will see it.’ So I entrusted my dress to Maggie’s safe-keeping.

  Thursday, the day of Emily’s party arrived. It was the day I was asked for the first time to read to Mrs Kershaw. Today of all days when I had much to do, but after all, this is why I was here and until now my duties as companion had not been called upon except for that fateful day.

  As I crossed the hall on my way to Mrs Kershaw’s room I encountered Thomas, at the sight of him my heart missed a beat.

  ‘Abbey,’ he said quietly coming across to me, ‘I need to speak to you about the other day. It was my misfortune...’ Here I interrupted him.

  ‘No, Mr Craddock, it is my misfortune that I risked all for someone so indifferent to my feelings as yourself. Now if you’ll please excuse me, Sir, I have to read to your aunt. I don’t wish to give her any more cause to dismiss me.’

  After this little speech I made to go but Thomas gently caught my arm. ‘But I need to explain to you about the other day,’ he implored.

  ‘I fear there is nothing to explain,’ I told him, wondering as I walked down the corridor what it was he had to say, just maybe I should have listened.

  The consequence of my meeting with Thomas caused me dist
raction while reading to the old lady who was very subdued today. What was it Thomas wanted to explain? He called me a fool and suggested to his mother that I was a challenge. How could he possibly explain that. For the rest of the afternoon I turned it over and over in my mind wishing that I had at least listened to what he had to say.

  ***

  After leaving Mrs Kershaw, I hurried up to my room as I still hadn’t unpacked the parcel containing Clara’s dress. Hurriedly I opened it, shook the dress and hung it up. It was blue quite similar in colour to mine with a wide bow at the back.

  I knew that Clara would look charming and that we would complement each other perfectly. I hastened along the road to Beckmoor fearing that I would be late, but as I reached the church door, Clara was just coming out.

  ‘Hello, Clara, are you looking forward to the party?’ I said trying to put her at ease.

  ‘Yes, Miss, I’ve never been to a party before,’ she replied softly and I could see she was nervous.

  ‘I wish to see Miss Anderson,’ I told Clara, steering her back through the door and instructing her to sit in a pew and wait for me. I climbed the stairs to the schoolroom, but the greeting died on my lips, for Ann Anderson and Antony Kershaw were in a close embrace. I retraced my steps down the stairs and taking Clara’s hand we walked back out into the sunlight.

  On reaching Kerslake Hall, I made my way with Clara to my room. First of all I would get Clara dressed and arrange her hair. As I slipped the dress over her head I thought how pretty she was. I sat her at the dressing table and brushed her hair until it shone and then placed the white flower in her hair. The finished result was wonderful. Maggie brought my dress to me and stayed to assist me.

  ‘Can I do your hair please, Miss?’ she asked of me.

  ‘Of course,’ I agreed and sat at the dressing table while Maggie brushed my long blonde locks and then twisted them at the back, securing it at the nape of my neck with pins, a tendril of hair each side of my face. All that remained was to position the pink flower. Maggie had done an admirable job.