Indicator of a Curse

Home > Other > Indicator of a Curse > Page 11
Indicator of a Curse Page 11

by Lesley A Meldrum


  ‘List their toys, anything you can think of. Also, there may be something we restrict George from because of his condition. That might be why he is exempt. It is probably something right under our noses and we are not seeing it.’

  He carried on staring at the pages as if something amiss would finally reveal itself. His persistent delving provoked his wife into thinking.

  ‘Franklin,’ she said, with big concerned eyes.

  ‘What is it, dear?’ He reached over and clutched her hand.

  ‘I had this dream last night, about Maisie. Maisie and her collaborators were poisoning the children. They were trying to make it look as though Beatty was the one harming our girls. Do you remember, Maisie, the young troublemaking maid you discharged?’

  ‘Yes, I remember her.’ She was impossible to forget. He had warned his friends not to hire the mischief-maker.

  ‘Is it possible the children are being poisoned?’ Maude asked. ‘Maisie may still have some collaborators working here.’

  ‘The doctors tested for poisoning, Maude. They found nothing. We are grasping at straws, my dear. We have become suspicious of everyone and everything.’

  ‘So true,’ she agreed. ‘Franklin?’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘Do you think it is possible the girls are bewitched? Do you think it possible Beatty has something to do with their ailment?’

  ‘I wonder,’ he mumbled.

  He had to have a serious think about it. He turned away from his wife to conceal his thoughts. He contemplated with a stern look. ‘Honestly, I cannot say, Maude. I just do not know anymore,’ he said, looking back at his wife.

  Maude studied his troubled face. She realised he shared her uncertainties. ‘It is looking that way, isn’t it?’ she commented, confiding in him her worst fears. Where once they had both stood firm on what they believed, the evidence was looking to be otherwise.

  ‘Yes, it is,’ he said, staring into her troubled eyes. ‘Let us not think about it anymore, sweetness. It shall give us bad dreams.’

  Franklin put his journals away and he and Maude climbed under the blankets. Little did he know, that night two families were merging to make plans to confront him about releasing the girl to the sheriff.

  ‘We should be done with it. We should march over there and demand he hand the girl over,’ complained one of the members.

  ‘Not yet,’ remarked Theodora Blackwell. ‘Wait till we have the whole town marchin’ with us. The Squire is a powerful man. He could have us hung for plottin’ against him if he wishes.’

  ‘Then what’s the plan?’ someone asked.

  ‘We wait a while longer for him to start questioning himself—whether the girl is guilty,’ Theodora said. ‘There’s enough goin’ on in that house to have him wonderin’.’

  Theodora could see that the council was not satisfied with her answer.

  ‘Of course, we don’t sit around idle while we’re waitin’. Mrs Elizabeth Seymour can tell you what we are to do.’ Theodora looked at her once rival. ‘Do tell, Elizabeth. Put them out of their misery.’

  Elizabeth was helped to her feet. Though she was younger than Theodora, she was frailer. Before speaking, she looked around at all the eyes locked on her. Knowing she had their full attention, she spoke.

  ‘We do what we’ve always done,’ Elizabeth said. ‘We bully the townsfolk to do what we want of them. We will go around discretely, door to door, and ask the people to march with us. If there is any resistance, we threaten them. They surely know our death threats are dependable.’

  ‘Who will be goin’ door to door then?’ asked a man at the back of the room.

  ‘We will decide with cunnin’ and wile. Some of the women only need a gentle persuasion with feigned kindness. Some of the men will do anything for a skirt. And some will need persuasion by force.’

  ‘Before we leave tonight, let’s put our heads together and map out who’s payin’ who a visit and by what means of cunnin’,’ piped up Theodora.

  The rest of the night was a collaborative effort.

  The next morning, Hattie wrote to her father and insisted he send his carriage right away. She and Tessa left within the week, taking Freya with them.

  Lady Bennet thought she would miss her daughter miserably but rather enjoyed the respite. She knew she had nothing to fear about entrusting one of her children to her beloved brother. Isaiah was fifteen years older than her and had spoiled her rotten as a child.

  Her greatest desire was for her daughter to get well while away. In the meantime, she was going to recover some of her own good health.

  It wasn’t until weeks had passed that Lady Bennet truly missed her daughter. The feeling crept up on her. The change of heart came as a surprise to her, considering she had appreciated the respite at the start of Freya’s absence.

  She had never been separated from any of her children. On one overcast day, completely out of the blue, she was pining, anxious to know how well Freya was faring.

  Her anxieties were answered when a letter arrived from Tessa, which couldn’t have come at a better time.

  Lady Bennet’s maid, knowing how keen her mistress would be to hear from Freya and her nieces, had taken the letter straight up to the parlour and handed it to her.

  As soon as Lady Bennet saw Tessa’s name on the back, she wasted no time. She opened it and managed to get through a few words before she was interrupted.

  ‘Who is it from, mama?’ Antonia asked excitedly.

  ‘Tessa.’

  ‘Read it out loud.’

  ‘No, I shall tell you what it says when I am finished.’ Lady Bennet preferred to peruse it first in case there was bad news.

  Antonia left the window bay and sat at her mother’s feet. Propped against her mother’s legs, she sat quietly as her mother inspected the letter in silence.

  ‘Dear Aunt,

  While I am pleased to tell you that our dear cousin Freya has had not one bad turn since coming to live with us in London, I am afraid her frailty remains a concern. It has been three weeks since our arrival home and we were hoping her appetite would have improved by now. Although, I am pleased to tell you, Aunt, today Freya ate her first big meal. Let us hope it is the start of many to come.

  I am also thrilled to inform you that she is no longer bedridden. She has been climbing out of bed every morning without fail. Upon waking, she prefers to leave the confinement of her room and will often sit by the fireplace in our parlour room, where she expects us to join her. She is such a delight, Aunt Maude. Father has become quite fond of her.

  Today, she asked to go outside for some fresh air. Our doctor said her arm is healing splendidly and, as we are having beautiful sunny days, he said the fresh air would do her good. Therefore, being such a good day and Freya being so alive, we took her for a ride in our buggy. I must say it did her well. She came home with colour in her cheeks. At supper time, she ate ravenously. As previously mentioned, it was her first big meal since she has been with us. We were delighted to see such an improvement.

  Though I must admit the active day tired her out immensely. She is still so frail, Aunt Maude. Straight after her meal we prepared a hot tub, so she could retire early.

  Tomorrow she wants to stroll around our gardens. She gives us hope more and more every day.

  She claims she has tired of the lifeless existence she has been living. She wants to feel alive again and, judging by her actions, I believe her.

  Freya wants to ride our horses when she is well enough. I have picked out the quietest horse for her, of course, yet she desires to ride my father’s horse, Gwinny, whom she knows has fire in her belly. As you well know, my father is bold. He likes activities that involve a measure of risk. For that reason, he has endowed himself with a horse as spirited as himself.

  Aunt, you must tell me, does she have the horsemanship to ride a beast like Gwinny? I will not put her on any horse until I have your reply.

  In the meantime, I hope you are all well. I am sure you are happy to
hear Freya is on the mend. I will keep you informed of her improvements.

  There is a matter I wish to convey before I sign off. It is with the utmost respect that I make a heavy request with your approval in mind. Father has proposed we assume full guardianship of Freya. He would like to have her live with us permanently with the understanding that the climate here suits her best. Father says he will consider adopting Antonia too if her condition is serious enough.

  Of course, it will only be by your consent, Aunt. I understand it would be better discussed at a later date, after much consideration.

  Until such time, I send my love on behalf of the Cornwall family to you, Uncle Franklin, and our dear cousins, Antonia and George, who I hope are faring well.

  Your beloved niece,

  Tessa.’

  Lady Bennet folded the letter. Before putting it away, she told Antonia everything in it, apart from her uncle wanting to keep Freya on with them permanently. That would not fare well with Antonia.

  Antonia was glad to hear her sister was doing ok. Antonia was the shy one and she was rather lost without her bold and daring sister. Even though Antonia was older, Freya had always been the leader and Antonia the follower. They were happy that way. It came naturally to them.

  When Lady Bennet finished speaking, Antonia went back to the window where she liked to read her books. She was an avid reader and her teacher had given her a highly recommended book. She picked up her book and kissed her mama on the cheek.

  ‘Are you going back to class?’ Lady Bennet asked, surprised.

  ‘Didn’t you hear the bell ring?’ Antonia said. Mr Lucas, her teacher, had a small bell that jingled, reminding Antonia of a Christmas bell.

  ‘No, I did not,’ replied Lady Bennet. ‘I must have been miles away. Enjoy the rest of your class, Antonia.’

  ‘I will, mama.’ She fled the room in a hurry. Antonia was in class on her own today as George was in bed with a runny nose and high temperature. The doctor said he had a cold. He assured the family George’s illness was not related to what the girls had.

  Lady Bennet, after reading the letter one more time, went over to her study desk and placed it in the compartment drawer where she kept her correspondence.

  Like Antonia, she was glad Freya was improving.

  The thought of releasing her daughter to her brother on a permanent basis played heavily on her mind. He was endearing and most trustworthy, but she could not bear the thought of being parted from her children for long periods. She paid for home tutoring simply because she had no wish to send them off to a boarding school.

  If it was necessary for Freya to live somewhere else, should she take them up on their offer? Freya’s failing health was the crutch of the matter.

  Lady Bennet accepted her husband had to stay in the area out of duty. He had an obligation as the new Squire to oversee the lands.

  In the meantime, her children were perishing. This place was killing her babies. If only they could find out what was causing their sickness.

  Every alternative weighed heavily on her mind. Perhaps they could move and her husband could pass on the responsibilities to a couple of his good men? He already had one man working under him who was certainly suitable for the task.

  While the minutes passed, every possibility came to the fore, only to be discredited for one reason or another. Finally, she decided the best solution.

  The only way to resolve both dilemmas was to move into the old manor. Her husband would still be in the local area and the girls would be out of the abbey. She recalled her husband identifying weeks ago that it was something in the abbey making the young ones sick.

  They should never have ignored Old Squire George’s warning from the grave. She should have believed it was he.

  Lady Bennet’s mind was made up. She would not release her children to someone else’s care. She would write to her niece this instant to let her know her decision. She opened her drawer and pulled out her stationery paper. As she was about to reach for her quill, her plan of action was disrupted by a knock at the door.

  ‘Come in,’ she said.

  The maid rushed through the door and gave a quick curtsy. ‘It’s Antonia, ma’am. You must come quickly.’ Her distraught face threw Lady Bennet into panic.

  ‘What is it, Jane?’ She was already on her feet.

  ‘She’s havin’ a turn and the teacher insisted I come fetch you.’ The maid had only been two days on the job and, even though she had heard the stories and been warned about the funny happenings, was new to the experience.

  This would test her. Would she bolt like the ones before her, Lady Bennet wondered.

  She rushed out of the room with the maid scurrying behind her. As they hurried along the hallway, Lady Bennet heard her daughter’s insufferable groans escaping from the walls. She was all too familiar with those disconcerting noises her daughter made when having her fits.

  She picked up the pace.

  She raced into the classroom, knowing she was going to see her daughter on the floor, jerking like a swarm of bees had stung her a thousand times. She stopped dead in her tracks and took account of everything. While she looked around she gathered herself, taking charge of her emotions.

  Poor Mr Lucas looked to Lady Bennet to come and rescue them. Before today, he’d never seen any of the children fall to the sickness.

  Antonia was lying on her side in a foetal position. She was convulsing, though she looked to be slowly recovering. Lady Bennet saw that Mr Lucas had had the sense to move the furniture away.

  Lady Bennet walked to Antonia and straightened her skirts for modesty’s sake when she came good. Mr Lucas and the maid stood back, helpless. He had heard about the children’s fits and, while he had never beared witness to them, had seen the bruises and scratches accompanied with the fatigue and emaciation.

  When Antonia completely settled, Lady Bennet lowered herself to the floor and nestled her daughter into her arms.

  Mr Lucas had the astuteness to pass her a large hanky. She used it to wipe the drool from her daughter’s mouth.

  ‘Shall we call for the doctor, ma’am?’ he asked, uncertain how serious they should treat the matter. To him the fits were traumatic, but the mistress seemed calm.

  ‘No, it shall pass soon, Mr Lucas,’ she said in her calm voice. ‘You did a smart thing moving the furniture away.’ She hoped the incident had not deterred Mr Lucas from further tutoring her children. He was a good teacher and was especially good with George. Her son rarely took to strangers, but George had settled into a routine with Mr Lucas from day one, showing great stride.

  Mr Lucas was flattered by the praise Lady Bennet awarded him. She and her husband were never short of compliments. If Lady Bennet had reservations that today’s incident would send him running with his tail between his legs, she had nothing to worry about. His admiration for Mr and Mrs Bennet was sincere and he had a good rapport with the children.

  Mr Lucas was sad to see what the girls were going through, knowing this demonstration was not the worst of it.

  ‘You are so kind, my lady,’ he articulated. ‘Thank you for noticing my efforts.’ Then, as though he knew what was on her mind, he gracefully put her at ease. ‘Ma’am, in case you are wondering whether this incident has motivated me to hand in my resignation, I assure you I have no intention of leaving your services.’

  Lady Bennet smiled with relief. She put her hand to her chest to emphasise the dread she was releasing. ‘Mr Lucas, you have no idea how relieved I am to hear that.’

  Bowing politely, he took her hand and lightly kissed it. ‘At your service, ma’am.’ He let go and stood erect.

  Lady Bennet had never noticed Mr Lucas’s fine physique before. He was tall like a proud nobleman. Not a pinch of flesh was out of place. Guiltily, she found his handsome looks were distracting her. She diverted her attention by busily playing nurse to her daughter.

  ‘I am sorry I could not be of any further help, ma’am,’ Mr Lucas said. ‘After I cleared th
e furniture I did nothing but stand back and wait for help to arrive. I feel quite useless after my lack of initiative, hardly chivalrous.’

  ‘Please do not think that way, Mr Lucas. You were wonderful. It was fortunate that she laid on her side, though; otherwise you would have needed to hold her tongue in place with a spoon. She could swallow her tongue and choke to death, you see.’

  ‘Oh dear!’ He paled before Lady Bennet’s eyes.

  ‘To be honest, ma’am, I found the display terrifying,’ he confessed. ‘I have no idea how you handle your children suffering in such a way.’

  ‘Yes, indeed,’ she said. Her daughters had to suffer this terror almost every day. Sometimes there was a lapse where everything would be normal, bringing peace for a few days. Recently, Antonia had a lapse that lasted three whole weeks. The longevity had deceived the household into believing she was finally free.

  ‘I was completely at a loss, ma’am. I noticed she was acting strange and the next thing I knew she was on the floor kicking and jolting. The chair was upturned and she made a hell of a crash when she hit the floor. It was alarming.’

  Lady Bennet understood where he was coming from.

  ‘I assure you, it always seems the scariest the first time you witness their fits. Once you have experienced it, you then take it in your stride. My reprieve is that the children are not consciously aware when they are going through it. They have no recollection whatsoever. My biggest regret is it knocks the daylight out of them. My poor babies look like they’ve been through the wars.’

  ‘Yes, indeed, ma’am,’ he said thoughtfully. ‘I sympathise with you and the children. Thank you for sharing that rather intimate detail.’ He paused out of respect. ‘I must ask you though, why do you suppose we have never had an incident in the classroom until now?’

  ‘Well, sir, my husband believes that while they are studying in the classroom their minds are busied.’

  ‘Very well, I shall accept that,’ replied Mr Lucas. ‘Your husband’s logic is feasible. Antonia’s mind was probably not on the ball today with the absence of Freya and George.’

  ‘Excuse me, ma’am,’ interrupted the maid. ‘Are you still needin’ me for anything?’

 

‹ Prev