Blythe Court (Novella)

by Nora Covington

“A few years before you wed,” she admitted.

  “Why on earth did he become involved with a chambermaid?” Even saying it sounded repugnant to me. “Is it love or lust?”

  “A combination of both, I think. John has not discussed with me his emotions in the matter.”

  “Well, how did you find out?” I pressed her for more information as to why she, above everyone else, was privy to the scandalous secret.

  “Because he knew of my affair with a young man that my parents did not approve of, and I suppose he wanted to counsel me by example.”

  “Counsel you?” I thought her explanation to be odd.

  “Well, if he loved her so much why didn’t he marry her instead of me? I would have been spared this shame instead of having to endure it day in and day out.” My high-pitched voice rose.

  “Because John did not wish to disappoint his parents,” she said. Her words confirmed my reasoning all along—duty to his family and title.

  “Obligation to his father but no loyalty to me,” I replied sadly.

  “There is more than you know,” Charlene added. “His heart has been torn over this matter for some time. There are fond emotions he carries for you, even though he may not feel at liberty to express them.”

  “He commits adultery behind my back and you say he has fond emotions?” I whimpered about to cry again. “Love does not act in such a manner.”

  “Go home, Ann, and speak with your husband. There is nothing more that I can share with you regarding their affair,” she heatedly stated. “It is not my place to involve myself in private matters of the heart, especially where it concerns John.”

  Charlene’s demeanor quickly changed, which I found most disheartening. I felt as if a door had been slammed in my face, barring me from seeing the truth.

  “Why won’t you speak of it?” I vehemently complained. “She might very well be trying to kill me to get him back.”

  To my utter surprise, Charlene rose to her feet. “You should return to Blythe Court as soon as possible,” she advised sternly. “I reiterate that I will not tell you what knowledge I possess about John’s affair.”

  Charlene abruptly departed and left me alone in the parlor to stew in anger over her dismissal of my inquiries. I could not stay another hour in her home, knowing some secret remained undiscovered back home.

  After packing my bags, I asked to be taken to the train station. I boarded the last train to Dorchester, scheduled to arrive at ten o’clock in the evening. Afraid of what I might find upon my return, I braced myself for the worst possible scenario.

  * * * *

  The three-hour train trip helped to calm my nerves and gather my thoughts. I feared finding Melanie in John’s room. I hoped that he had more sense than to outwardly display infidelity, which could be discovered by others on the staff. Of course, I still wondered how ignorant they were of the affair that had been ongoing for some time.

  When my hired carriage arrived back at Blythe Court, I hoped to quietly slip upstairs to my room and explain the reason for my early return tomorrow. Unbeknownst to me when I arrived at the front entrance, another carriage waited in the drive. I saw the crest on the door and immediately recognized the duke’s coat of arms. I found it odd that his parents had decided to visit Blythe Court when he and the duchess had not done so since the day we wed.

  I cautiously entered the hall and heard the voices of John and his father in the drawing room. Mr. Rhodes greeted me. After he had taken one look at my distressed countenance, his brow furrowed in concern.

  “My lady, you are back already? Is everything all right?”

  “Yes, fine,” I answered, not wishing to look at him in the eye lest I struggle with tears. “I see his grace is here. You need not announce my arrival. I’ll retreat to my room and talk to my husband later.” As I turned to run up the stairs, John must have heard our voices and called after me.

  “Ann!” he anxiously yelled as he approached. “I thought you were spending the night in London.”

  “Change of plans,” I said, looking mortified. His father walked out from the parlor and joined the conversation.

  “You needn’t run off, Ann,” the duke said. “Come join us.”

  My eyes darted back and forth between my husband and his father. “I wasn’t feeling well, so I came home early. Please forgive me for declining your offer.”

  “Is there anything I can do?” John asked, taking a step toward me with alarm on his face.

  I shook my head negatively. “No. I need a good night’s sleep that is all. If you would be so kind as to excuse me, I would like to retire.”

  “Yes, of course,” he answered.

  “Goodnight, your grace.” I nodded to his father and walked slowly up the stairs to emphasize my fatigued condition. Mr. Rhodes followed me carrying my suitcase.

  “Is there anything else you might need, your ladyship? Shall I fetch Melanie to tend you?”

  “No,” I sharply replied. She was the last person on earth I wanted to see. Even the sound of her name brought physical unease.

  “Very well.”

  Mr. Rhodes left and shut the door behind him. I closed my eyes and heaved a deep sigh. My nerves were frayed to such an extent that my hands trembled. I did not care to tend to my clothes, so I merely undressed and readied myself for bed. Exhaustion overtook my body. It had been a terribly long day traveling six hours back and forth, plus my examination and stressful conversation with Charlene. I did not wish to speak to anyone. The only goal I had in mind was to close my eyes and forget about my heartaches.

  Final Confrontation

  John entered my bedroom the following morning and sat on the edge of my bed. His arrival startled me. I rolled over and rubbed my eyes. His warm and comforting hand touched my shoulder, and he softly spoke.

  “I’m worried about you,” he said. “Are you feeling any better?”

  I turned my head away afraid that I would sob. My heart yearned to tell him I carried his child. Instead, I prepared to open another wound. After heaving a deep sigh, I sat up in bed. My arms grabbed my pillow, which I clung to my chest tightly as if to shield myself from the hurt that would soon transpire.

  “No, I am not better,” I began, thinking how to wisely choose my words. “John, I must dismiss Melanie as my lady’s maid.”

  He scowled. “Dismiss? Why?”

  “Because I believe she is trying to poison me by placing arsenic in my morning tea.” Of course, my sudden declaration sounded entirely irrational. He probably thought I had lost my mind.

  “How preposterous,” he quickly said, dismissing my allegation. “What proof do you have of such grave misconduct?” His eyes darkened.

  “A physician’s confirmation,” I responded harshly. My body stiffened, preparing for battle as I drew my own sword to defend myself.

  “What do you mean?”

  His hand dropped from my shoulder and now tightly squeezed my upper arm demanding answers.

  “I didn’t go dress shopping yesterday. Instead, I went to a family physician in London because I have been ill of late with nausea and headaches. He examined me and seems to think I have been ingesting small portions of arsenic on a daily basis. Our water supply might be tainted, but I quickly dismissed his assumption since no one else in the household is sick.”

  For a brief moment, I glanced angrily at his hand clutching me. Seeing my disagreeable frown, he pulled away. Suddenly, he rose to his feet, posturing himself defensively.

  “Why in the world would Melanie wish to poison you?”

  Even though his statement sounded innocent, I had reached the end of my patience over the travesty of our relationship.

  “Don’t play your charade with me any longer, John. I know all about the two of you,” I said. My voice trembled as I continued. “She is in love with you, that is why, and jealous of my position as your wife.”

  “What do you mean you know?” His complexion paled, and his fists clenched at his sides.

  “After we
returned from our honeymoon, I took a morning ride and saw the two of you embrace and enter the tower together.” I threw back the covers, rose from the bed, and faced him. “You played me the fool very well.”

  “You know nothing,” he heatedly replied. John spun around and flopped in a nearby chair. He lowered his head into his hands and sat there quietly for a few moments, composing his emotions.

  “Enlighten me, will you?”

  John lifted his head and looked at me with a forlorn gaze. He opened his mouth as if he were going to speak and quickly shut it again.

  “Tell me, please,” I begged him. “You owe me that much.” He inhaled a deep breath and expelled a long-drawn-out sigh.

  “Two years before we wed, I had been an impetuous fool of a young man. I struggled with my father’s demands, damned him behind his back, and set out to show him I would be my own person no matter what.”

  “So to make a statement on independence you pursued a chambermaid?”

  “She already caught my eye with slight flirtations, which I eventually took advantage of when no one noticed. I found her to be delightful and susceptible to my attention and affection. Above all, she listened to me and I thought understood my struggles when no one else in the household cared.”

  “How convenient,” I said disdainfully. “So you began an affair?”

  John hesitated, drawing in a quick breath but then relented. “Yes, we started an intimate relationship that continued for some time.”

  A lump formed in my throat from the painful, long-overdue confession. I felt the first slice of his sword inflict a deep wound. “Apparently you still are and your love remains with her,” I added. “I fully understand now why you treat me so coldly.”

  “No, you are wrong, Ann. When I knew we were to wed, I told Melanie I did not wish to keep her as my mistress. I haven’t visited her bed since we married.”

  “Liar,” I shot back at him. “I saw you with my own eyes embrace her and lead her into the tower alone.”

  “You saw nothing,” he adamantly replied. “There are reasons we met, which I cannot reveal.”

  “She must still love and want you, otherwise why would she try to harm me? Did she offer to stay with you as your mistress?”

  “Yes, but I refused because she deserves much better. I sincerely doubt she is responsible for what ails you,” he shot back defiantly.

  “Then you are blind if you think she is innocent,” I replied.

  “At my request, she has kept her distance from me and not shown her affections outwardly. I know they still exist, but I no longer reciprocate.”

  “I want her gone from this household today,” I spat. “If you are telling me the truth, you will dismiss her immediately for both our sakes.”

  “I cannot,” he replied, rising to his feet. “You may hire another lady’s maid, but Melanie will stay on in another position as a chambermaid in our household if she so chooses. After all, you are the one who insisted she serve as your attendant in the first place.”

  “Which might have been a good time to confess your relationship before I did!”

  His response incited me to such anger that I took a bold step forward and slapped him hard across his face. John showed no reaction. He merely stood there looking at me as if he deserved my wrath.

  “You have every right to be cross with me,” he said. “All I ask is that you believe me when I tell you that we are no longer lovers.” He hesitated and set his jaw sternly in reply. “Regardless, my word stands. She will not leave Blythe Court.”

  The gruff tone of his voice and dark eyes told me I had no say in the matter whatsoever.

  “If you like, I will tell her of your decision,” he offered.

  “No, I will. Let me at least keep an ounce of dignity as your wife in this matter,” I said.

  “No,” he loudly countered. “It must first come from me. Afterward you can have your word with her, but I ask you do so with civility.”

  “Civility?” I shut my eyelids and pursed my lips together at the thought of being polite to a woman who might be attempting to kill me. He asked too much of me.

  “I promise you nothing. If she is indeed responsible for my ill health, she deserves to receive the sharpness of my tongue if not more.” The thought of her staying at Blythe Court frightened me to the core. Even if she no longer served as my lady’s maid, she would still have opportunities to harm me. Why did he demand that she stay?

  “I am truly sorry for any pain this situation has caused you,” he said pensively. “If you remember, I warned you not to love me. Now you know why.”

  I stared at him in disbelief. His cold tone dismissing my affections hurt me deeply. “I cannot prevent my heart from loving whom it will—whether it be a wise or unwise choice,” I replied. “My only regret is that you do not love me in return.”

  He looked at me with emptiness and non-committal lips, which he kept tightly shut.

  “Go then,” I said, turning away from him and stifling my tears. “Tell her she is forbidden to serve me any longer.”

  John departed leaving me behind brokenhearted.

  * * * *

  While tending to my own needs, I felt devastated. Confronting John had been far harder than I anticipated, leaving my heart shattered. I wanted to believe that he had ceased relations with Melanie since our wedding but could not bring myself to do so. How could I trust him after the heated embrace I witnessed exchanged at the tower?

  Later in the morning, I searched for Mrs. James, the head housekeeper, and inquired if she could recommend someone on the staff capable of taking over Melanie’s duties. I discovered that John already discussed the matter, and she informed me everything had been settled. A seasoned chambermaid interested in the advancement would be introduced to me for my consideration. Melanie would take over her duties instead.

  Regardless of who it would be, I decided to forgo morning tea in bed as long as my competition remained in the household. I became fearful, worried my new lady’s maid might do Melanie’s bidding by tainting my brew. Making cautious decisions would keep me safe, or so I hoped, from a jealous woman. I had no idea how long it would take to remove the poison from my system. The nausea and headaches persisted but were undoubtedly exacerbated from the overwhelming obstacles I faced.

  John disappeared for hours. I concluded he did not wish to see me due to his infidelities or embarrassment over the matter. My mind constantly thought about his illicit affair with Melanie. The ruminations only fueled my jealousy that she, in spite of her station in life, had been able to win his love. Melanie’s sweetness and ability to listen to him had drawn John to her. It appeared that I had not reached that stage in our marriage. John continued to be an unsolved puzzle.

  Sweet or not, I was convinced that Melanie wanted to possess him entirely. Whatever ill motives she retained, I dreaded defeat by her hand as long as she remained at Blythe Court.

  Invitation to Death

  Before dinner, John met me in the parlor where he closed the door so we would not be disturbed. I knew what the discussion would entail but had not expected to see such a pained expression on my husband’s face. His reddened eyes accented his pallid countenance as if he had recently shed tears.

  “Sit with me,” he said. John stretched out his hand palm up and waited for me to take it.

  “All right.” When I touched his fingers, they were ice cold. He directed me to the scarlet settee, and we sat down together. The color of the fabric matched the circumstances. John continued to hold my hand. I did not attempt to pull it away, thankful for the closeness even during this strained moment.

  “After our discussion this morning, I summoned Melanie into the parlor and spoke to her in private.”

  “It must have been difficult for you,” I replied. Clearly, it had been a strenuous day by the tense look upon his face.

  “Unfortunately, it did not end pleasantly,” he began. “When I told her that you did not wish her to serve you any longer because you disc
overed our past together, she flew into an inconsolable rage.”

  “Rage?” I repeated. I had pictured her crying and pleading with John upon receiving the news, not ranting and raving.

  “I questioned her about the arsenic, and she vehemently denied her involvement.”

  “And you believed her,” I said as if I already knew the answer.

  “I’m sorry, Ann, but I still cannot conceive in my mind that she would do such a ghastly thing as to try and kill you.” He paused for a moment. “If she had conceived anything so horrific, she should punish me instead as retribution for leaving our relationship.”

  “Well, I don’t trust her,” I admitted. “I shall always fear for my life as long as she remains in this house.”

  “You have nothing to fear from Melanie,” he reiterated.

  Each time he denied her involvement, I paused searching his eyes for the truth. A part of me feared that he lied to protect Melanie. Why couldn’t I trust his sincerity? I needed to ask him a question to test his motives.

  “If she succeeded in murdering me and you thought it natural causes that led to my demise, would you have eventually taken her as your wife?”

  John pulled his hand away and scowled me. “How can you ask me such an unspeakable question?” he indignantly challenged me.

  Evidently I wounded him in doing so, but he had not given me a response. “Well, would you?”

  John rose to his feet and looked down at me. “It’s apparent to me that you have already answered that question yourself. Therefore, I shall not give you the satisfaction of responding either way.”

  A second later, he stormed from the parlor and left me alone. Another stabbing pain sliced through my abdomen. It had only been a day since I received no tea from Melanie’s hand, but the symptoms persisted. In addition, I grappled with fatigue and weakness in my arms and legs. My emotional and physical wellbeing brought me to the brink of collapse.

  Now that I expertly alienated my husband for asking what I thought to be a logical question, I refused dinner and returned to my room. I did not wish to think or talk about the situation any longer and instead sought sleep.