by Kirsty Ferry
‘Nowadays, I suppose your Worthy Thing at home is called volunteering at the Hall. I mean you are technically working from home.’ He was serious for a moment and stopped walking. He took both her hands in his and faced her. ‘I’m sorry. It was never meant to be like this, you know. I never thought I’d be opening the doors to the paying public and having my wife doing the tours. You were supposed to float around in luxury. It was always you. Everything was for you. Do you know, I came to London to find you once?’
‘Really?’ Elodie looked up at him. ‘All that way?’
‘All that way. I discovered you were working for the National Theatre. I saw your name in an Arts magazine someone had left on a picnic table. I thought it was too much of a sign to ignore. So I got the first train down.’
Elodie shook her head, her eyes wide. ‘Well I never. Why didn’t you ask my parents for my address? They would have given it to you. I know you keep popping in when they’re home!’
He smiled, a little lopsidedly. ‘I wanted to surprise you. Thought it would have more impact that way. Stupid, huh? So I paid a fortune for a Hamlet ticket and I hate Shakespeare. I sat through it, willing it to end, and all I could think about was that you’d touched those costumes. That you’d designed them. Afterwards, I went to the stage door to see if I could spot you. Talk to you. Maybe apologise to you.’ He looked down at their clasped hands. ‘Persuade you to dump the banker fool and come home. But you weren’t there. Someone said you weren’t expected in all week. I didn’t leave my name. I just said it was fine and I’d catch you later. Then I came home and figured it wasn’t meant to be. And that I’d blown it.’
Elodie felt her cheeks heat up. ‘Hamlet. God. In the middle of that production, I ended up in hospital. The asthma. I was signed off sick for a couple of weeks. Things move so fast in that world, nobody would have thought to tell me someone had been searching for me.’ She shook her head. ‘My London life seems a very long way off today.’
‘I’m pleased. I don’t want to lose you down there again. And we’re turning a profit at the Hall now – a good one. We’ll be fine. I’ll do the estate proud eventually.’
‘You already have. Never berate yourself for that. I know we’ve still got lots to do – we’ve lost Georgiana in the wind, that’s for sure. But there’s still Jane to consider. No matter what happened, you’re right; she was a Countess of Hartsford and that should be recognised.’
‘I’m told she’s coming back next week. That’s what I’ve been promised at any rate. We can sort out a service then – just a quiet one. I’ll spin the same story about the random aunt, but inter Jane in her proper plot – say we’re not sure of her name, but we know she was family, so they don’t start asking questions about engraving her name on the stone.’ He scowled. ‘She’s entitled to be buried here, whatever happened that night.’
‘I still say it’s more than she deserves. You’re just more forgiving than me. I’m awfully glad you’re not cruel like they were. It would be so nice to know what happened to Ben and Georgiana though.’ Elodie often thought the rest of their story was dangling just out of reach, like a shiny bauble high up on a Christmas tree.
Speaking of shiny baubles, Georgiana’s locket felt warm against her chest. It had seemed right to wear it for her wedding but she knew all along it was simply a loan. Tonight, she would put it in the church, on top of Georgiana’s tomb, and then it would be placed back inside it, along with Lucy’s Bible and the pewter box. They wouldn’t bury the pistol again. It would go in the cabinet, safely locked away with its companion. If it was up to Elodie, she’d toss it into the River Hartsford, but she supposed its place was in the Hall with the other one. She still didn’t like it, but Georgiana and Ben had handled it and it was linked to their story in some way and they were linked to the Hall. And she was pretty certain Jasper’s last heroic act had been to cause it to misfire, all those years ago.
‘Are you all right?’ Alex spoke, interrupting her thoughts.
She sighed. ‘Yes. I’m just thinking about Ben and Georgiana and wondering what happened. That way madness lies, I guess.’
‘Yes.’
‘I can’t get a handle on where they went. I mean, spiritually.’ Elodie looked up at the thin sliver of moon that glowed from between heavy-looking clouds. ‘The memories have just ended. If Ben was used to being a shadow in his lifetime, who’s to say he would want to be found now? He’s still cloaked in darkness somewhere, waiting for the clouds to cover the moon so he can ride again. I think we have to leave it to him to tell us where he took her. If he ever wants us to know, that is. And I think they’re still together.’
‘I agree,’ said Alex softly.
They had reached the church, and stepped inside the cool, stone building. There would be no traditional midnight mass this year – it had been incorporated with the wedding service so people didn’t have to come back out. The vicar and the parishioners had seemed quite happy with that arrangement, especially since the ones who were walking home had been sent away pleasantly sozzled on mulled wine and Delilah’s extremely alcoholic mince pies. Really, there should have been a health warning on those pies.
And Margaret had insisted on cooking lunch tomorrow for them after all, even deciding that she would assemble all her family just beforehand and make them bring it over to the Hall in her huge serving dishes as an extra wedding gift.
So Alex had wiggled out of making Christmas Lunch nicely again. Elodie wondered what his excuse would be next year, and the thought of next year made her smile. It would be a very different sort of Christmas, that was for sure.
In the church, there was still one candle lit beside the tomb and they walked over to the white marble, hand in hand.
‘I hope you’re happy, Georgiana,’ Elodie told her smooth, peaceful face. The cracks and damage caused by the summer storm were all but invisible now. She let go of Alex’s hand and ran her finger gently down Georgiana’s cheek as she had done so many times over the years. Alex busied himself lighting more candles and soon they were in a flickering fairyland, the Lady Chapel seeming like a cave of ice crystals as the flames picked out highlights in the snowy marble and caressed the contours of the freshly white-washed stone walls.
Elodie laid her bouquet gently down at the statue’s feet and undid the clasp from the chain around her own neck. She placed the locket around Georgiana’s marble neck and stroked her fingers along the carved hair, as if she was brushing it back from her face.
‘Sleep well, wherever you are,’ she whispered.
‘I think we should restore that portrait now.’ Alex’s voice was close to her ear. ‘Our wedding gift to her.’
And despite the cold in the church, Elodie felt her cheeks burn. ‘Ah. About that.’
‘What about “that”?’
‘I already did it. It’s here. It’s my wedding gift to you. Technically, it was a sorry-about-the-storm gift, but it took a bit longer than I thought. And at that point I didn’t know I’d be marrying you.’ She slipped away from him and scurried to the back of the Lady Chapel. A clean, white tablecloth had done a great job of disguising the framed portrait. It was currently sitting unobtrusively at the back of the chapel and she carefully took the fabric off the frame.
‘There she is. All sorted.’ She smiled up at him. ‘Happy wedding day!’
‘How on earth …?’ Alex looked a little bit stunned and rather impressed. ‘How did you get it? Was it Cassie?’
‘Sort of. She gave me permission to steal it. Not that I really stole it.’ She grinned. ‘I borrowed it. It was so hard not to tell you what I’d done. She didn’t put up too much of a fight when she knew I was doing it to make you happy.’
‘I don’t know how you did it and I don’t think I really want to know, but …’ He shook his head. ‘I would have got round to it. I told you that. But typical you – no patience.’ And then he held his arms out to her and smiled that beautiful smile. ‘Thank you. It’s a lovely gift.’
She ste
pped forward into his embrace, and he felt so warm and so absolutely Alex that she couldn’t stop a little, pleasurable sigh escaping from her lips.
‘Simon did it, like I knew he would,’ she said comfortably into his chest, ‘and he even sourced the frame and didn’t charge for any of it. But I could have afforded it, you know. Piers was an idiot who couldn’t keep his hands off other women, but I got a jolly good divorce settlement from him. And anyway,’ she beat her fists gently against Alex’s chest, ‘I have so got patience. I waited for this moment for bloody years.’
‘Me too.’ He leaned down and kissed her. ‘Now, shall we have a look at this portrait properly?’
‘Oh, it is her. Definitely. Look.’ She pointed at the picture, which glowed golden in the candlelight. ‘Ben painted her so lovingly, didn’t he? It’s her locket. It’s the dress she was wearing when I saw her memories, that first time with you, and it’s the portrait she was holding the night they ran away. There’s a little bit of red ribbon in her hair too – see it? And she looks like the statue on the tomb. It’s so nice to see her in colour.’
‘It is,’ Alex agreed. ‘She looks like she did when I saw her in those memories. And I still say she looks like you. Can you see the resemblance?’
‘Just a little. Her hair and eye colour, perhaps? Maybe the shape of her chin? I don’t know. She’s rather beautiful.’
‘So are you,’ Alex told her with a grin. ‘I’m pleased we know who painted it now. I knew it wasn’t a Gainsborough or a Reynolds.’
‘No. They’d have both been pushing up daisies by the time this was painted. Ben painted her like this because he wanted to.’ She touched the locket on the painting. ‘You could hang it in the Lady Chapel, near her tomb? Or at least hang a reproduction of it, so people could see what she was really like.’
‘I agree.’ Alex picked the picture up and studied it for a moment. ‘It’s rather a precious piece of our history. I think she needs to come back to the Hall. I’ve a miniature there that I think perhaps was Jasper. After that sight in the Green Dragon, I think I’ve got a little more idea of what he was like. You might know too – as he was in the coach the first time Georgiana and Ben met. He’s got the same colouring as this girl anyway. I can only assume little magpie Lucy pocketed that as well. It’s amongst my father’s genealogy stash.’
‘It would be so nice to put them together again – but nowhere near their awful father!’
‘Nowhere near him.’
‘But poor Lucy! I knew it was her.’
‘Lucy saw the aftermath and made the story up.’ Alex still had hold of the portrait and stared down at it. ‘She’s the one who caused all the mischief with Cassie and the one who stashed everything in here?’
Elodie nodded. ‘Yes. From the snatches Cassie remembered, Lucy was crippled with guilt and that must have been what sent her over the edge – and what kept her here. It’s more peaceful now, isn’t it? I think she’s finally at rest, poor little thing. And that French cousin must have been named after his influential relatives; just as well they did that. It must have been relatively easy for them to trace him back here because of it. Incredible.’
‘And Ben was obviously a talented man, when you look at this.’ He took the painting and laid it gently on the marble. ‘I think, in some way, they’ve brought us back together as well. Don’t you? Thank goodness something good came of it.’ He turned and pulled Elodie towards him, and she snuggled into his chest. He nuzzled into her hair for a moment and they were silent, lost in their thoughts. At length, he pulled away and looked down at her, his eyes full of love. ‘Do you know, I’ve got a surprise for you too.’
‘Oh?’ Elodie pulled away and looked up at him. ‘What is it?’
‘Come with me.’ He took her hand and led her gently outside, around the side of the Lady Chapel. Lanterns were hanging from the trees to lead the guests safely through the grounds and the moon shone brightly. There was a glint in one of the tree branches, and Elodie saw something hanging off it. Something silvery, on a chain; a locket, an identical copy of Georgiana’s.
‘For you.’ Alex stopped in front of the tree and unhooked it. He held it up, dangling it hypnotically from his fingertips. ‘I thought you might like one of your own.’
‘Oh, Alex! Thank you!’
She reached out for it, but he held it up high, out of her way, and she giggled. Then he smiled and beckoned her closer. ‘May I fasten it, Elodie Aldrich?’
‘Of course.’ She stepped forward into the space between his arms.
He reached behind her neck and did so, then trailed his fingertips along the chain, coming to rest like a butterfly on her collarbone. He weighed the locket in his hand and looked at her shyly. ‘D’you like it? It’s got a couple of silly pictures of us in at the moment – but I thought we could make a love-knot of our own. It was just a bit awkward to chop some hair off when you weren’t looking.’
‘Thank you, that would be lovely. We can use some of the ribbon from my wedding bouquet.’ She dipped her head down and opened the locket, angling it towards a lantern so she could see the pictures. She laughed – the original photograph had been taken at one of their Living History weekends. Elodie had been dressed in an Edwardian evening gown and had stolen Alex’s top hat. Cassie had snapped the picture of them both laughing, both looking at each other as Elodie balanced the hat on her elaborate hairstyle and Alex tried to get it back. Alex had trimmed the big photograph and fitted the smaller pictures in so they were facing each other and smiling. There was, undeniably, love between them in that photograph, and Elodie knew she was finally where she belonged. With Alex, at Hartsford.
‘Perhaps it was someone called Alex Aldrich who was drawing me back to Hartsford all along. Perhaps that’s why my heart and soul are here.’
‘Could be.’ He smiled. ‘I know my heart and soul are here too. Right in front of me, in fact. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.’ They leaned into one another to kiss, and as they did, the last of Georgiana and Ben’s memories flooded their minds and their hearts.
She was sitting on Blaze; and Ben, standing on the ground holding the reins of the big, black animal with one hand, was keeping Georgiana steady until she settled herself in the saddle and wound her fingers in the horse’s thick, coarse mane.
‘We don’t have long,’ he told her, looking over his shoulder as if the mob were still hunting for him. ‘I escaped from them once tonight, thanks to our terribly unlucky poacher friend, and we shan’t be so lucky a second time.’
‘Please – just get up here with me and we can leave!’ begged Georgiana. ‘It’s all gone wrong – so wrong. We need to get as far away from here as possible!’
‘That is my exact plan. I’d defend you with my life – but I think we need my life intact tonight.’ In one swift movement, he was behind her on the horse and his arms came around her as he held the reins and kicked the horse onwards.
Blaze bucked and reared and set off at a canter through the woods. Georgiana hung on and narrowed her eyes, trying to see through the trees. The horse seemed to know where he was going and wove through the branches expertly. Soon, they were out on the open road, heading towards the coast. The moonlight glittered on the ocean as they headed along a little-known coastal track to Ipswich.
‘Ben. What about Lucy?’ she asked suddenly.
‘We can’t go back for her.’ His breath was warm on the back of her head. ‘We can send for her when it’s safe. We have to leave and we have to leave now. I’m sorry. But we’ll both be hanged for what we’ve done if they find us. I have friends who can get us – and Blaze – passage on a ship to the continent. We can sail as soon as we reach the docks and head to France. Paris isn’t the safest place at the moment, but there will be other towns. In the meantime, I have other friends in Europe who will help us, and I can earn money for us – legally, I hasten to add. I told you my vocation was in the arts. I always enjoyed painting portraits, but it does not pay so well as this.’ He indicated the black
outfit wryly. ‘My life on the road has been a useful exercise to enable me to make my fortune, but it won’t be long before the continent is clamouring for portraits by Benjamin Aldrich, I swear to you. Of course, this life is not without its moments. Like tonight.’
A sob suddenly caught in Georgiana’s throat. ‘Ben, I couldn’t have stayed anyway. Even if you—’ She couldn’t finish the sentence. ‘Even if you weren’t here.’
‘I know. Murdering one’s mother, no matter what the provocation, is usually frowned upon by a judge.’
‘No. No. It’s not that. Although, dear God, that’s bad enough.’ She took a deep breath and placed her hand on one of his. Gently, she worked his fingers free from the rein. Her heart pounding, she pressed the palm of his hand against her stomach. ‘I’m with child, Ben. Our child. I couldn’t have stayed. It’s impossible.’
‘What?’ Ben pulled hard on the reins and drew Blaze to a halt. ‘With child?’
‘Yes.’ Georgiana began to panic. She turned awkwardly to try and see his face. If she could see his eyes, she could read them and see how he felt. She should have waited until they were at least on board the ship and halfway to Europe before she told him. He could throw her from the horse right now, right here on this track in the middle of nowhere. He could slit her throat and leave her for dead. He could—
‘Georgiana! My love!’ His voice was soft, full of emotion. ‘So I have two precious bundles before me on Blaze here?’ His eyes were shining in the moonlight and he dipped his head. He took her hand and kissed it tenderly. ‘Three precious bundles, including my bag of gold, perhaps?’ His voice was teasing again, but full of emotion. ‘Then it is all the more urgent that we reach the ship and take refuge there. Are you quite well? Is it safe for you to ride?’ His eyes changed and were full of concern.
Georgiana looked into the midnight blue depths and felt, insanely, a little bubble of laughter begin to gurgle up within her. She was with Ben. She was on Blaze. They had left Hartsford behind. They had a future. All of them. Together.