Lady Bennet had forgotten Jane was there. She was still standing at the door. ‘Oh, Jane!’ Lady Bennet exclaimed. ‘No, thank you, that will be all for now. Carry on.’
‘Yes, ma’am.’ Jane bowed and hurried out the door, straight to the downstairs kitchen. She possessed a weakness for gossip and couldn’t wait to tell the staff what she had witnessed. Little did they all know, it was not over.
Ten
Mr Lucas was helping Antonia when she fell into a deep trance. Her countenance took on an evil look. Her sinister eyes bored into them. A small child’s voice came out of her mouth, sounding no more than early school age.
‘Mr Lucas, my papa says you cannot teach. He says you are dumb.’
‘That is not true, Antonia,’ blurted Lady Bennet. She turned to the teacher. ‘While she is in this state, Mr Lucas, do not believe anything that comes out of her mouth. Mr Bennet said no such thing.’
Antonia smirked. ‘You always take the other person’s side, mama. I hate you. I wish you were not my mother.’
Lady Bennet ignored the child. She wasn’t taking the bait.
Unfortunately, it was only the start of her daring cheek. Like a sudden change in the wind, Antonia spoke like a woman beyond her years. Her remarks became intimate.
‘So mama, tell me who my real father is. Why do I look like your brother? Was it incest?’
Mr Lucas was mortified. Lady Bennet’s poker face struck him. How she could withstand such an adversary was commendable.
‘Mr Lucas, you fancy my mother, don’t you?’ Antonia teased, increasing his horror. ‘Mama, you like his attention, don’t you?’
Lady Bennet remained unwavering.
‘You enjoy being in the company of handsome young men. How is father to compete? Poor daddy.’
Antonia turned her attention to Mr Lucas. ‘Sir, you cannot have my mama. She is taken, but you can have me if you like. I have seen you undressing me with your eyes. Where would you like to touch me? Would you like to touch me here?’ She pointed to a nipple. ‘Or here,’ she said, caressing the other nipple. ‘Or how about here?’ She trailed her hand to her forbidden area while licking her lips.
Mr Lucas was beside himself. The words flying out of her mouth and her mannerisms were far too advanced for a girl who lived such a sheltered life.
Mr Lucas pondered from where she could be getting all this vile discourse. If she was overhearing the staff and seeing things she shouldn’t, he would be addressing Lady Bennet with the matter.
What disturbed him most was the implication of improper conduct she was making against him and Lady Bennet.
He expected an ally in her but was quick to learn she did not share his slighted demeanour. Lady Bennet recognised the taunts as a symptom of her daughter’s stupor. Indeed, the brash implications about her and the handsome teacher were embarrassing, but she knew the gibberish to be just that: imaginations brought on by delirium. Besides, she had heard worse coming out of her children. Far worse.
‘Mama, you dream about other men touching you, don’t you?’ Antonia further taunted. ‘Papa has become too routine. But that is okay because Mr Lucas dreams about touching you. Shall I tell papa about your dirty little secret, Mr Lucas?’
‘Ignore her,’ warned Lady Bennet.
Due to lack of experience, Mr Lucas was delayed in accepting Antonia as simply delirious; she had affronted them so rudely, so wrongly, and so intimately. Surely, she was playing with them. If so, it was a dangerous game.
Unlike the calm Lady Bennet, he was put out for both him and the respectable Lady Bennet. Not to mention, the girl had unlocked his cavern of secrets. He did indeed harbour secret yearnings towards the beautiful mistress, but those candid feelings were not to be broadcast. Not if he could help it.
He chivalrously defended their innocence like a convincing lawyer, gifted with the gab, but his words fell upon deaf ears. The girl was now comatose, as mute and disobliging as the inanimate objects surrounding him. If she was pretending, her performance deserved high accolades.
Mr Lucas was stumped. Antonia had only moments ago conversed in an alert manner. While he scrutinised and pored over the quandary, Antonia stared ahead with her bulging eyes glazed over and unblinking.
At Lady Bennet’s request, Mr Lucas helped Antonia to her feet and guided her to a chair. She was rigid but coercible. Mr Lucas managed to shuffle her step by agonising step to her seat. All the while, he searched her face for any sign of alertness.
After a lengthy duration, he had to admit the girl was not consciously aware of her surroundings. Without further misgivings, he surrendered to the fact that the girl’s impoliteness was somehow coerced by something out of her control.
With more compassion than before, he guided her the last few inches to her seat and gently sat her down. He picked up one of the children’s thin books and fanned her.
When Antonia was settled, Lady Bennet joined them. She pulled up a chair beside her daughter, taking hold of her hand and looking deeply into her eyes.
‘Antonia,’ she said. ‘Can you hear me? It is mama. Antonia, please.’
Slowly the girl faced her mother. She spoke, but the voice escaping her mouth was not hers; it was deep and masculine. ‘The familiar said the witch’s presence will keep me calm.’
‘That big red rooster again,’ thought Lady Bennet aloud. ‘Perhaps we should consider Big Red for our next meal.’
She knew, too, who the witch supposedly was. There was no rest for poor Beatty.
Where once Beatty had to leave the room to stop the fits, the familiar was now claiming the opposite: her presence rather than her absence would calm the situation. Things had changed of late. Beatty’s absence had not been working. The fits sustained whether she was there or not.
The change of routine provoked Lady Bennet to seek her husband. She rose from her chair and walked over to where the bell sat on the mantelpiece. She rang for the maid who entered without delay.
‘Go fetch my husband please, Jane. He is in the study.’
‘Yes, ma’am.’ She curtsied and fled the room.
Mr Bennet entered the schoolroom with the maid in his wake. He could feel her walking behind him, practically stepping on his heels. Any closer and he would feel her hot breath on his back.
‘You can go now, Jane,’ he said. ‘I shall take over from here.’ He was tempted to educate the girl about personal space but decided not to shame her. He would speak to her at a more practical time.
‘Yes, sir,’ Jane curtsied and walked away. She was rather disappointed that she could not disclose any further details to her co-workers. She had been quick to discover how hungry they were for drama.
Lord Bennet had his journal with him. These days, he was never far without it.
He found everyone seated, with Maude at Antonia’s side and the teacher opposite them. Mr Lucas jumped up and offered his seat, which Mr Bennet gladly took.
While the master took his rightful place amongst his loved ones, Mr Lucas sat away from the close-knit family and watched on. Perhaps he should have asked permission to stay, but by this stage his curiosity was too strong.
Antonia remained in her stolid trance while Lady Bennet told her husband of the events that had taken place. When his wife was done speaking, Mr Bennet pulled his seat in closer to his daughter. He looked deep into her glazed eyes. ‘Antonia, tell me what you told your mama.’ His words were deliberate and careful.
Antonia failed to acknowledge his presence. She stared ahead with vacant eyes.
Mr Lucas noted how it pained Mr Bennet to see his daughter this way. He empathised for them both.
An evil laugh rose up from the girl’s throat.
‘Tell mama about the maid in your room last night,’ Antonia teased. She peered at her father with hatred.
‘She was tending to my boil,’ he said. The maid was a local healer and came highly recommended by his doctor. Since the Blackwell and Seymour clans did not allow other healers to earn a living in the c
ommunity, the maid had needed work.
Lady Bennet knew her husband suffered from a carbuncle on the back of his thigh. The doctor had lanced it, but it was taking its time to heal. She was aware Franklin had assigned a maid to redress his wound.
Antonia’s alter ego was playing on the fact that Mr and Mrs Bennet were no longer sleeping in the same room. It had been at Lady Bennet’s request that her husband take another room. She resented his restless nights keeping her awake. When he did sleep it was from sheer exhaustion, which prompted heavy snoring. On those nights while he slept like a log, she tossed and turned. Out of the two of them, she was the more sleep deprived.
She needed a break.
The abbey was a sleepless house. Her husband’s intolerable insomnia and her worries over her children kept her up at night. Bumps and noises in the middle of the night also kept her awake. She was coming to terms with the house being haunted. Either she was too tired to think straight or the truth was getting too hard to ignore.
Her children were possessed by some demonic influence.
Whether Antonia was in a state of delirium or a demon was using her to speak, the voice was stirring the pot between Lady Bennet and her husband.
‘And you, you pretentious sinner,’ Antonia’s deep guttural voice snarled at Lady Bennet. ‘Tell papa about the butcher’s son. How you flutter at his flirtations. How you hunger for his attention.’
Lady Bennet blushed. The butcher’s son had shamelessly flirted with her and she was guilty of thoroughly enjoying the attention. He was a good-looking man, awfully good-looking, with the most sparkling blue eyes.
‘Yes, he has flirted with me,’ she admitted. ‘He merely flirted. That was all.’ Although she defended herself, she was riddled with guilt. Lady Bennet wanted the earth to swallow her up, but that was not going to happen. She couldn’t tell if her head was spinning or the room. The voice had found her weak spot: her secret crush on the butcher’s son.
‘The voice is playing with your head, Maude,’ Mr Bennet said. ‘Don’t let it pull you in.’ He reached for her hand. ‘I love you, dear. You have done nothing wrong.’
Not done with stirring the pot, Antonia turned her attention to the only person left in the room who had not had their hidden transgressions exposed since her papa’s arrival.
‘What about you, sir? I know the things you would enjoy doing to mama.’
‘I beg your pardon?’ said the teacher, mortified. He pulled a crinkled hanky from his pocket and started dabbing his sweaty forehead.
‘You dream about her, do you not? You have imagined your hands all over her naked body.’
The voice had found an easy target. Mr Lucas was beside himself. His face was on fire, glowing hues of pale white and hot pink.
‘Take no notice of its accusations, Mr Lucas,’ Mr Bennet said. ‘This thing wants to humiliate us. To make something out of nothing. Do not take any of its filthy accusations to heart.’ He could see how affected the poor man was. ‘I advise you to forget everything that was said. Do you hear me, Mr Lucas?’
‘Yes, sir,’ Mr Lucas replied, finding his equilibrium again. ‘I thank you kindly, sir, for your instructions and understanding.
‘Of course, Mr Lucas. I know you for the decent gentleman you are. Release your guilt and dismiss anything that has been said by this filthy-minded spirit.’
‘Yes indeed, sir.’ Mr Lucas spoke no further of it and gladly.
Having all survived their shame from the devil’s attack, every adult turned their attention back to Antonia, who was obviously suffering.
Mr Bennet was determined to have his daughter back. He leaned in close and gripped her by the shoulders. Staring into her glazed blue-green eyes, he summoned her. ‘Antonia, can you hear me? It is papa. Tell me what you told your mama. What the familiar said about the witch.’
She began to twitch. Without warning, Antonia came out of her trance, as though the mere mention of the witch had an effect. ‘The familiar said the witch’s presence will calm me,’ she answered.
This was the first time her father had perceived of any familiar. ‘What familiar?’ he asked.
‘The rooster. The children call him Big Red,’ Lady Bennet responded. ‘The girls have mentioned the rooster in front of you before, Franklin. Were you not paying attention?’
‘Apparently not, my dear. It must have bypassed my ears.’
Most of the villagers had livestock to sustain themselves. The Clarkes had pigs, chooks, and a cow. In addition, they had one big red rooster that woke the whole community up at the crack of dawn. The animal would go for you if you were anywhere near its territory.
Suddenly, the events took a turn for the worse.
Antonia fell back into her spell. Her face contorted, her jaw opening so wide it would surely snap. The pressure in the room grew heavy. Furniture levitated and flew across the room. Mr Lucas watched on with horror. The contortions were so severe not even Lady Bennet could control her tears. She turned to her husband for resolution.
He too was looking on with fear. His writing materials were lying on the ground, completely forgotten. After the last episode where Freya’s arm had snapped, showing a splintered bone poking through her skin, the Squire was taking no chances.
‘I’ll be back soon,’ Mr Bennet said. ‘Keep an eye on her and ring for the butler. We’ll need a few strong hands.’ He left the room and fled from the house with a speed he didn’t know he possessed.
He raced across the road and banged on the Clarke’s door.
‘I have come to fetch Beatty,’ he said when Cordelia answered the door. She was not too pleased to see him, and neither was Beatty when she came to the door, but the panic on his face alleviated the tension between them all.
‘Who is it?’ yelled a male voice from inside. Mr Bennet had yet to meet Cordelia’s husband. In fact, he had been starting to wonder if the man existed.
‘’Tis the Squire, don’t worry yourself about it,’ Cordelia shouted back.
‘Don’t mind him, sir,’ she explained at a low volume. ‘He’s in bed sick. Got beat up bad at the pub. Probably hidin’, if you ask me.’
‘It is good to see you, Cordelia,’ Mr Bennet said. ‘It has been so long, but this is important. I need to bring Beatty back with me to the abbey. I shall explain on the way, Beatty.’
His eyes were pleading. Beatty had never seen such desperation in his eyes before, so she went peacefully.
When Mr Bennet returned to the schoolroom, his daughter was still having her fit. He entered the room alone to see what was happening. He saw Antonia in all sorts of twisted shapes as her limbs randomly took turns to contort. Sometimes her belly lifted into mid-air.
His petite wife by this stage knew better than to hold her down. In previous cases, her interference exacerbated the situation and she had been thrown across the room. The children’s strength was immense during these episodes. It would take the men all their strength to hold any one of them down.
The butler was in the room along with two of Mr Bennet’s strong men. Lady Bennet had instructed them not to do anything until her husband was back. They looked to Mr Bennet, awaiting their instructions. The master gestured with his hand for them to remain as they were.
Mr Bennet observed the episodic infirmity had progressed since his absence. Antonia was performing a new feat he had not seen before. He watched her expand like a pufferfish and then return to her normal state. One part of her body would bloat, while other times her whole body swelled up like a carcass.
Instinctively, he went for his journal, but his wife stopped him with a stern rebuke. ‘Franklin,’ she boomed. The scowl on her face meant business. ‘You can do that later. Where is Beatty?’
He stopped dead in his tracks, jumping out of his skin a little. One wouldn’t expect such a powerful voice to come out of such a petite woman. ‘Yes, of course dear,’ he replied apologetically. ‘Beatty is outside. I shall call her in.’ It was not often his wife rebuked him, but when she did, it was s
cary.
Mr Bennet had seen enough. Whatever was possessing Antonia would not let her be, giving her no resting time. He walked to the door and beckoned Beatty to come in. Beatty headed straight to Antonia and stood within inches of her. The girl calmed, recovering completely.
Everyone was relieved to see the girl return to herself again. Yet, she was not without her battle wounds. The episode had left her completely exhausted. She was so pale she looked to be almost at death’s door.
Given her condition, she was offered a light meal and then sent straight to bed. If Antonia had her own way, she would have skipped the meal altogether, only her mother was adamant she needed to keep her strength up.
When she had gone off to bed, Beatty was kind enough to stay until she was sound asleep.
From that day on a new pattern was set. Every time Antonia fell into a fit, Beatty was beckoned. In due course, Mr Bennet asked Beatty to live with them on a permanent basis. Beatty was thankful he offered her the time to think about it.
Truthfully, she wasn’t keen on the idea one iota, especially around this specific time of year. It was Beatty’s birthday in two days and the only person she wanted to spend it with was her ma. She was turning twenty-six. Her ma said twenty-six was a significant age for her. Cordelia had recently had a premonition, though she wouldn’t part with the particulars. She said it was something Beatty had to work through herself.
Eleven
While Beatty despised the abbey, there was one positive aspect about the place as of late; it was somewhat calmer, at least where the public was concerned.
Mr Bennet had ceased the visitations. The spectators had showed little compassion when Freya had broken her arm. The Squire realised he had turned the place into a crazy carnival, with his girls as the main attractions. He, their beloved father, had foolishly displayed them as grotesque freaks for society to laugh and scoff at, while he stood back and penned their demise.
He furthermore regretted putting their reputations on the line. He wished he hadn’t exposed their most embarrassing moments, the ones hardest to brush off. The sickness made them do unseemly things. While under the spell, they possessed seductive prowess, alluring their audiences with provocative dances and sexual displays.
Indicator of a Curse Page 12