The Ghost of Christmas Past

by Sally Quilford

  It had been such an easy deception, she mused, as she carried the book out of the church, and to the street. All it took was to change part of the surname, and an occasional change of Christian names, and no one would ever suspect. Then when the mother became too old to attract men, or died, the daughter took over. Possibly the son too. Elizabeth had not forgotten about the case in France mentioned in the newspaper. She thought about her own annuity of one hundred pounds a year, but also what she might inherit from Lady Bedlington, who could not live for many more years. It made her a very attractive prospect to the wrong man. And she had known he was the wrong man the moment he proposed to her. It was not only her burgeoning feelings for Liam that had prevented her from feeling attraction. It was the strong sense that something was not quite right.

  Chapter Nine

  When Elizabeth reached the gaol, it was to find a commotion. Over at the gaol, two officers stood either side of Liam, who, it broke her heart to see, had been put in manacles. There was a carriage outside the constable's gate. It was closed in, with only a small, barred window at the back and the sight of it chilled her far more than the cold winter air. They had come to take him, but were prevented from moving by an obstruction.

  There was another carriage in the centre of the road, overloaded with trunks and household belongings. One of the horses had gone lame. Mr. Hardacre stood beside the horse, beating it furiously with a stick, whilst it cowed its head in supplication. Elizabeth gasped in horror on seeing the vicious look on Hardacre's face and the suffering of the poor animal.

  “Come now, Mr. Hardacre,” said Constable Hounds. “Don't treat the animal so. We'll get the smithy out, and find you a new horse.”

  “Get up you beast,” yelled Hardacre. “Move, damn it, or I'll kill you!”

  “Well, I never,” said Mrs. Chatterbucks, who had left the church some time earlier with her sister, to return home for breakfast. They stood at the side of the roadway, watching the horror unfold. “Such language. Such behaviour and from a gentleman too.”

  “He's no gentleman,” said Elizabeth. She crossed the road to where Hardacre stood. “Cedric Hargreaves,” she cried. “You stop that this instant!”

  Her use of his real name had the desired effect. Hardacre stopped, his eyes wild with anger. His manner changed within seconds, and for the first time, Elizabeth saw the real danger in the man. A man who could switch from brutality to charm in a matter of seconds. How might such a man treat a wife? “I … I am sorry, Miss Dearheart. You must forgive me. My sister and I are leaving Midchester. We're off to a warmer climate for her health. It is only my desire to ensure she is well that has led to this … this aberration, I assure you.” From the look in his eyes, he was clearly puzzled about the way she had addressed him.

  “Where is your sister?” asked Elizabeth. “Is she in the carriage?” Elizabeth walked to the carriage door.

  “Stop!” said Hardacre. “She is wrapped up warm, and I am sure you do not wish to add to her sickness by letting the cold in.”

  “Why? Are you afraid that Doctor Bradbourne might recognise his wife?”

  Hardacre became flustered. “I am not sure what you mean.”

  “Constable Hounds,” Elizabeth called across the street. “Please, have your men bring Doctor Bradbourne here.”

  The constable did as Elizabeth asked. The men crossed the street with Liam and brought him around to where Elizabeth stood.

  “Oh, I see where this is going,” said Cedric Hardacre. “You will say she is your wife just to clear your name. Never mind that you've never set eyes on my sister before.”

  Ignoring him, Elizabeth yanked the door open, to reveal Dora Hardacre, sitting in the carriage, shaking with fear. Elizabeth could see that it was not the fear of being harmed. It was the fear of being found out. “I've never seen this man before in my life,” said Dora, before Liam could speak.

  “That's odd,” said Liam. “Because I certainly know you, Clara. As will the people you met in Delhi. So I suggest you and your brother stay in Midchester, until they can get here.”

  “We will do no such thing,” said Cedric Hardacre. “This is nothing to do with us.”

  “You were born to Lucinda Yates,” said Elizabeth. “Probably out of wedlock. Thirty-three years ago, she married Franklin Hargreaves. I imagine she’d already set up her plan to have him framed for murder. You and your brother were baptised on the day of their wedding. I have it here.” Elizabeth held out the book. “Cedric and Dora Hargreaves. You returned recently, in the hopes that no one would recognise you. And you were correct. No one did. Until Mr. Sanderson visited on business. My guess is that he saw your sister in the village and recognised her as the young woman who had married his brother, Albert. You,” she turned to Mr. Hardacre, “agreed to meet him, and killed him. Then as if that were not bad enough, you insulted his memory by turning him into a snowman.”

  “This preposterous,” said Dora. “I am not that woman.”

  “Yes you are,” said a voice from the assembled crowd. A man stepped forward, and next to him a hooded lady. It was the man whom Elizabeth had seen sitting in the minstrel's gallery. The woman removed the hood and revealed herself to be Lady Clarissa. “I am Albert Sanderson, and this woman is my wife, Lucinda.” He pointed to Dora.

  “I persuaded my step-mother to hold a Christmas ball,” said Lady Clarissa. “We invited everyone in the district. Albert...” She looked at Sanderson, and Elizabeth saw the sadness in Clarissa's eyes disappear to be replaced by enduring love. They became harder when she looked again upon Cedric and Dora Hardacre. “Albert sat in the minstrel's gallery, in the hopes he would see you amongst the crowd, Lucinda. When that did not work, we started looking at who had not taken up the invitation. The Hardacre brother and sister were the only ones. You can imagine our interest when we heard you were thinking of leaving soon. We've had people watching you, and as soon as we heard you had packed up early, we came down here to stop you. Luckily the horse did that for us. Poor creature.” Clarissa's eyes softened as she looked at the horse, but she could easily have been talking about the tired and sad man who stood next to her.

  “So it was not Mr. Sanderson who told the constable about Liam?” said Elizabeth.

  “No,” said Lady Clarissa, smiling. “I imagine Mr. Hardacre did that when his sister saw Doctor Bradbourne from a distance the other day.”

  “But they waited until last night so that the commotion surrounding his arrest would cover their departure,” said Elizabeth, catching on quickly. She remembered how confused and upset Liam had been when she was on her way to visit the Hardacres. At the time she assumed he had seen Lady Clarissa. It must have been Dora Hardacre; the woman he knew as Clara.

  “You are a very intelligent young woman, Miss Dearheart,” said Lady Clarissa.

  “Was it you who chased my brother and Johnny Fletcher?” asked Elizabeth, advancing on Cedric Hardacre. “Because I do not believe for one minute it was Mr. Sanderson, although I'm sure it was your intention to have us believe that.”

  “I'm telling you this is preposterous,” said Hardacre.

  “Your sister has been recognised by two men. Shall we contact the Rivers family and see if they recognise her as Prudence Rivers? And what about the lady in France? Would her family recognise you as the husband who turned up after that tragic lady had been executed?”

  “He made me do it,” said Dora Hardacre, whining. “Do you not see how it is, Liam, darling? How he made me deceive you? And you, Albert. I knew you loved Lady Clarissa. I said to him, 'please don't make me do this to such a good man.' But he has beaten and cajoled me all our lives.”

  “You lying wretch!” Hardacre cried. “It was your idea to carry on mother's schemes. It would make us rich, you said. And we have scraped all our lives. Miss Dearheart, I only asked me to marry me so I could escape her forever.”

  The brother and sister bickered on that theme, whilst the constable's unlocked Liam's manacles, and transfered them to Hardacre. They f
etched more manacles for Dora, and both were put into the black van originally intended for Liam and carried away. They could be heard screaming and shouting at each other as the van disappeared down the street.

  Chapter Ten

  The list of guests for Christmas luncheon had swelled so much that Lady Bedlington insisted on hosting it at Bedlington Hall. Elizabeth, Samuel and the Reverend Dearheart attended, along with Lady Clarissa and Albert Sanderson, the constable and his wife, Mrs. Chatterbucks and Miss Graves, John and Amelia Wheston, the Fletchers (with Johnny who had awoken during the night and seemed to be on good form, though still pale) and Liam.

  They began with a prayer for all those who had suffered at the hands of Cedric and Dora Hargreaves/Hardacre, especially the tragic victims either murdered or executed for crimes they had not committed.

  “I am an old woman,” said Lady Bedlington, as the soup was served, “and I daresay I don't always take notice of what goes on around me, but could someone please explain to me how Mr. Sanderson here and Doctor Doubleday...”

  “Bradbourne,” Liam corrected her.

  “Bradbourne … could both be married to the same woman. It is bigamy, and quite outrageous.”

  “It means,” said Liam with a smile, “that my marriage to Dora … or Clara as I knew her … was not legal. I aim to see a lawyer to ensure that is the case, of course, but an annulment will be imminent so that I am finally free to marry again.” He looked at Elizabeth as he spoke. For her part, with all eyes upon her, she found her minestrone soup suddenly very interesting.

  “I too will be seeking an annulment,” said Albert Sanderson. “Our marriage was never consummated.”

  “Really!” Lady Bedlington dropped her spoon. “I don't think this is a proper discussion to be having at the luncheon table.”

  “Lucinda … Dora's reason,” said Albert Sanderson, carrying on regardless, “was that her mother had despised children, and she was not going to make the same mistake.”

  “I think,” said Elizabeth, “that much might have been true. It was perhaps not so bad when the children were little. Their mother could use them as leverage. The poor, unfortunate widow left with two young children. As they grew older, then their age would have given her age away, reminding her, and others, that she was no longer a young woman capable of attracting a well-to-do husband. I would feel sorry for them – Mr. and Miss Hardacre – born into such a life if not for the pain they have inflicted on others since.”

  “So they were marrying people, embezzling money from their spouses’ colleagues, then having the spouse arrested for murder?” said Mrs. Chatterbucks.

  “Yes, that is correct,” said Elizabeth. “In that way they gained twice. Once from the embezzlement, then from the death of the spouse. It makes my blood run cold to think...” She looked across at Liam. He had come so close to be taken away from her forever.

  “What happened to their mother?” asked Miss Graves.

  “Well,” said Elizabeth, choosing her words carefully, her lips curling slightly, “at one point I suspected that you were the real Lucinda Hargreaves.”

  Miss Graves blushed, and flustered, but then seemed to suppress a smile. “Me, a cold-blooded femme fatale. Why, the very thought!”

  “Of course,” said Mrs. Chatterbucks, not to be outdone, “it would take a woman who had been married to know how to attract a man. You have never been married, dear.”

  “Are you confessing to the crime, Mrs. Chatterbucks?” said Liam, with a smile.

  “I most certainly am not! Though I daresay that in my younger days, I might have had the feminine wiles to pull such a crime off.”

  “The mother is dead,” said Constable Hounds, after everyone had stopped laughing. “They said so on the way to the gaol. She died in France.”

  “It was strange,” said Albert Sanderson, “but I never met her brother. He was always some shadowy ogre she mentioned.”

  “The same here,” said Liam.

  “I imagine,” said Elizabeth, “it was better for them not to be seen together.”

  “They were here, in Midchester,” said Mrs. Chatterbucks.

  “Yes, but I don't think they came here to con anyone into marriage,” said Elizabeth. “At least not at first. They came here to hide until Liam … Doctor Bradbourne … was executed. Dora only went into hiding properly when Mr. Sanderson's brother saw her. I think Mr. Hardacre's proposal to me was a last ditch attempt to get their hands on some money whilst they waited for that event. I’m afraid that Aunt Arabella might then have been in desperate danger.”

  Judging by Lady Bedlington’s bright eyes, that idea thrilled her almost as much as the sisters being femme fatales had excited them.

  “It was something of a coincidence, your sister coming here, Doctor Bradbourne,” said Miss Graves.

  “Not exactly,” said Amelia Wheston. “You see, Liam had written a letter in which he said his wife, Clara – as he knew her – had mentioned Midchester as somewhere she had family, and that her mother’s name had been Lucinda. So my husband and I came here to see if we could find the family. Of course, not having been to India, I had never met her, and did not know her real name.”

  “All these names,” said Lady Bedlington. “Dora, Clara, Lucinda, Prudence. I cannot keep up with it.”

  “I rather think that was the idea,” said Elizabeth. “No one would connect the names.”

  “I suppose you are going to marry Mr. Sanderson now, Clarissa?” asked Lady Bedlington.

  “I will as soon as his annulment comes through,” said Lady Clarissa. “If that is...” She looked at Albert Sanderson.

  “If I want to?” he said. His face, ravaged by time and illness became suddenly young again. “It is all I have wanted for the past fifteen years. I can think of nothing that would make me happier.”

  “So was it Hardacre who chased my Johnny and your Samuel?” said Mrs. Fletcher, speaking for the first time. “Or was it Mr. Sanderson?”

  “It was Hardacre,” said Albert Sanderson. “Though I should confess that Johnny did see me near to the … my brother on the day Miss Dearheart found him. But I did not kill him. I went, looking for him, having heard at the Inn that he had gone there to meet someone. I cannot describe to you the treatments I have been given over the years. Certainly not in this mixed company. I can only tell you that they have sometimes left me with a feeling of unreality. Of not knowing what I truly saw and what I imagined in my head. When I saw my brother, covered in snow, I convinced myself it was one of those moments when I saw things that were not there. I was terrified, but only as if in a nightmare. I did not know that what I saw was real. If I had realised … he might still be alive.”

  Lady Clarissa reached out her hand for him. “Hush now, my love. You must not punish yourself for the things others have done.”

  After luncheon, there were the usual parlour games and singing at the piano, but it became clear that it was all too much for Albert Sanderson. He took himself off somewhere quiet, accompanied by Lady Clarissa.

  Liam stood at the fireplace with Elizabeth. “The poor man,” he said. “Some of the treatments for mental illness are barbaric. I only hope that with her love and kindness he will recover.”

  “Yes, so do I,” said Elizabeth. “She has been very patient, hasn't she? Waiting all this time for him. It must be wonderful to love and be loved like that.”

  “Will you come for a walk with me, Elizabeth? I should like to speak to you alone.”

  Elizabeth nodded, and went to fetch her cloak. There was something in his voice that she feared was goodbye. She made up her mind to let him go. They had been brought together in dramatic circumstances, so she would not hold him to any promises he had made, or the kiss he had given her. He was a free man, or would be as soon as his marriage was properly declared null and void. She was suddenly shamed again by the idea that he had kissed her as a married man, for even if he had suspected his wife was alive, he did not know that the woman he knew as Clara was already married
to another. What's more, Elizabeth had permitted it. What must he think of her behaviour? And why did it matter to her more now than when she had accepted the kiss?

  Therefore, their walk together started awkwardly, with each lost in their own thoughts and feelings. The snow crackled under their feet, and turned Lady Bedlington’s garden into a winter wonderland.

  “I think the snow may be passing over,” said Elizabeth, falling back on that stalwart of English conversation, the weather. “But Spring still feels a long way off.”

  “Yes, these dark days can make it seem so. But one morning you'll wake up and there will be daffodils in Midchester.”

  “I imagine it's very hot in India. Even now.”

  “Yes, it's very humid. We do have dust storms, and rains of course. They're not quite as pretty as snowfall.”

  “Do you miss being there?”

  “Yes and no. I have not had my happiest times in that city. I will have to return, of course.”

  “Oh.”

  “To clear everything up. Don't forget that I escaped from prison,” said Liam. “They won't be happy about that even if I had been wrongly condemned.”

  “But surely they won't censure you for that, given that you were innocent all along.”