Twelfth Night at Eyre Hall

by Luccia Gray

  Jane’s new little pet, Nell, followed us around like a lost puppy, trying to join in the fun, but Phoebe and Clarissa kept sending her off to the kitchen, saying she was a ‘tedious little elf’. She did look like an ethereal little waif, although now that Jane had bought her some proper dresses and shoes, she looked less like a pauper and more like a little fairy. However, she did have an exasperating way of popping up out of the blue and asking too many questions. I was glad to be rid of her.

  I was furious with Annette who was behaving most selfishly. She was the most beautiful woman at the table, yet she was unfriendly, and refused to give Dante a chance. The places of honour at the table were reserved for Diana to Jane’s right, opposite her husband, Admiral Fitzjames, and for me to Mr. Mason’s right, opposite William. Annette sat on my right, opposite Dante. It was a magnificent occasion for them to become more acquainted, but I noticed how Dante spent most of the evening talking to John who had changed places with Clarissa, who had boldly insisted on sitting next to Michael. Although Annette was seated next to Dante, she was constantly turning away from him towards Michael who was on her other side. Actually, Michael was continuously turning to Annette, and away from Clarissa’s shameless flirting.

  It was pleasing to meet Jane’s affectionate cousin, Diana, once more, although her boisterous husband, Admiral Fitzjames, who speaks far too much and far too loudly, dominated most of the conversation with boring talk about the navy. In fact, there were far too many tedious naval officers at the table to talk about anything else; the lecherous–looking Captain Carrington, who could not keep his eyes off all the ladies at the table, but especially Annette, and Michael who had returned as a dazzling lieutenant. Captain Carrington could not speak highly enough about his bravery, and both Phoebe and Clarissa were smitten by his uniform and good looks.

  Michael was getting all the attention at the table, including Jane’s. I had always been wary of Michael. He was far too clever and ambitious for his own good. England was a great nation because everyone knew their place. He forgot his and poor Jane got into a great deal of trouble. I hoped they had both learnt their lesson.

  Jane was wearing a beautiful silk crimson evening gown, which enhanced her stern expression, yet highlighted her pale beauty. It worried me that Clarissa swapped places with John so that he could sit next to Phoebe, but that meant that she sat next to Michael, and every time she spoke to him, touched his arm, or giggled loudly, Jane flinched noticeably. She should have had more sense than to care about him.

  I was perplexed regarding her motives for inviting Michael to lunch on Christmas Day, after the way he left Eyre Hall. It was obvious, to me at least, that she was still smitten by him. Apparently, the admiral had recommended him to the captain, and somehow they had all been invited to Eyre Hall for Christmas. I was pleased to hear that he would be returning to sea for six months very soon.

  Richard and William were drinking far too much, but they were enjoying themselves conversing about the beauty of Venice, the nightlife in Paris, William’s town house in London, and Richard’s plantation in Jamaica. I joined in their conversation occasionally, but they mostly ignored my comments, until I mentioned that John would be going to York the following day, and William said he had never been there.

  “Adele has told me you will be visiting York tomorrow, John.”

  “Yes, I will visit the archbishop at the Minster.”

  “You are acquainted with the Archbishop of York?” William sounded impressed. “I have heard he is a very outspoken and intelligent man.”

  “He is indeed. Archbishop Templar was my tutor first and then my headmaster at Rugby. I see him as often as I can. He was a good friend of my father’s.”

  “I should very much like to visit York Minster, and the ancient and noble city of York!” cried Mrs. Carrington.

  “If a group of you would like to come, I should be happy to show you around and introduce you to the archbishop,” said John.

  So, that was how the trip was settled. We were to set out in the morning, Captain and Mrs. Carrington with Diana and the admiral would travel together, while William and I would travel with John. We were all excited to stay at the archbishop’s official residence, Bishopthorpe Palace, for three nights to give us a chance to visit the town and environs. Phoebe and Clarissa, seeing no point in visiting ‘a big old church’, of which they claimed there were plenty in London, preferred to visit Lord Ingram before going on to the Jackson’s, our wealthy new American neighbours on the estate, who were holding a New Year’s Eve party we were all attending.

  Richard was leaving for London claiming he had urgent business to deal with. Michael said he had family matters to discuss with his sister, Susan, my maid, and Annette and Dante decided to stay at Eyre Hall, too, which was good news. They would be spending time alone, to get to know each other better. Jane, of course, refused to accompany us; she rarely left Eyre Hall, unless there were urgent matters to attend.

  After dinner, Phoebe and Clarissa insisted on playing blind man’s bluff in the drawing room and hanging mistletoe balls in the centre of the room and the doorway. We all played, except Jane and Mrs. Carrington. Jane turned away from the bustle to the furious hearth as a brazen Clarissa, who insisted that everyone kissed at Christmas parties in London, pushed Michael under some mistletoe. She made sure she was kissed and caught by all the young men, and then organised a game of hide–and–seek, at which time William complained of tiredness, and I of a headache, so we both retired, reminding Dante that he should speak to Annette regarding his intentions.

  ***

  Chapter VII – Upheaval at Eyre Hall

  At last, after the tedious dinner, we moved to the drawing room, where I hoped to approach Jane, but Clarissa insisted we play an absurd game, and brazenly pulled me into her circle and under some mistletoe. I had to kiss her first, which was a quick peck on the cheek. The game continued until all the blindfolded men had kissed all the girls. Jane had declined to join in, saying she was tired and sat by the hearth with Mrs. Carrington. When everyone had been kissed, Clarissa proposed we all play hide and seek. Fortunately, Captain Carrington distracted his wife away from Jane’s side, and Clarissa was too excited to notice that I had slipped away from the playful group to join Jane, who was standing by the hearth, looking intently into the flames.

  “Mrs. Mason, I would request a private word with you, if you please?”

  Did she recoil on hearing my voice? Was it possible that I could have such a negative effect on her? Did she hate me for leaving, or for returning?

  “Have you finished playing, Lieutenant Kirkpatrick?” she answered looking into the fire.

  “I have no intention of playing, and least of all with you, Mrs. Mason.”

  She turned to me, and my heart surrendered as it always did. Hers were the eyes I had seen in every storm, and hers was the face I had observed in every dawn.

  “Congratulations Lieutenant, now that you are an officer in the navy, you can have your pick of the young girls who are searching for husbands. You have done well.”

  I wanted to throw myself at her feet and tell her that I had come back because her image was so firmly lodged in my mind that her face was the last thing I saw before falling asleep and the first thing I thought of every morning when I woke up. Hers were the only lips I ever wanted to kiss, and being so near her and watching her indifference was killing me.

  “I am not looking for a young wife,” I whispered.

  “What are you looking for? Why are you here? Is it to flaunt your victory?”

  I wanted to tell her that the only thing that had kept me alive at sea was a little red button she had given me, and the faint hope of seeing her again, one day. As I stood beside her, I knew I had come back because my life meant nothing to me without her.

  I moved closer. “Please, could we continue this conversation somewhere more private?”

  “On what matter must you speak to me that is so private?” she turned away from me to the fire
place.

  “Regarding my sister’s health.”

  “Susan seems perfectly healthy to me,” she said, watching the flames.

  “It is a very urgent. I would not trouble you if it were not so important.”

  Her bright stormy eyes turned to mine, and for a second I looked into the depths of the ocean and saw a flicker of hope. If I could make her look into my eyes again and see how much my love had grown, I was sure she would allow me back into her heart.

  “I beg you to allow me to discuss the matter with you privately.”

  Her expression softened for a second, but she turned back to the fire. “Wait in the library.”

  I did as she asked, slipping away unnoticed, and waited for almost an hour in the armchair by the fireplace, until she entered the room and closed the door.

  “Are we to speak in darkness?”

  I turned towards her voice. The waning moon chose her slight frame to illuminate, but the rest of the room was in darkness, except for a dwindling candle in a Christmas wreath by the window. I lit the other candles with a taper I picked up from the fireplace. The room sprang to life with light and flickering shadows in every corner.

  She dropped onto the couch and sighed. Her face was pale and drawn as she looked into the flames; still it was the most beautiful face I had ever seen.

  “Mrs. Mason, thank you for seeing me.”

  “Please be seated. You can thank Susan; it is my concern for your sister’s welfare that has persuaded me to speak to you.”

  I tried to look into her eyes, but she looked back to the fire.

  “Tell me, what is it you want to speak to me about?”

  “I did not know you were unwell after I left.”

  “Did you care how I was?”

  “Of course I did. I asked Susan how you were in every letter I sent. She told me you were well. You had not told Adele that you were poorly. I only learnt about what happened when I arrived back in England two weeks ago.”

  “Poorly is an unsuitable word. I was bedridden for over three months.” She looked absently into the flames.

  “I’m sorry I was not here to help you.”

  She turned to stare at me. “I miscarried your child.”

  I was unprepared for her accusation. “You don’t know for sure…”

  She jumped up and glared at me. “How dare you doubt my word? I know what a miscarriage is. I have had three.”

  “I am sorry.”

  “I trusted you with my body and my soul, and you left me without even saying farewell.”

  “I could not stay.” I approached her.

  She raised the palm of her hand. “Why are you here? What is it you want?”

  I was about to speak when Mason burst in. “Thought you were both here! Glad to see you, old boy!”

  “Good evening, Mr. Mason.”

  “Looking for a job? We could do with another footman.”

  “I am not in need of an occupation, at present, Mr. Mason. I am content in the Royal Navy.”

  “Good to hear it! Glad you took my advice.”

  “I decided to follow my father’s footsteps.”

  “On the other hand, pity you left so suddenly. I lost my wedding night on that account!”

  Jane had moved to the mantelpiece, head bent once more. Mason walked towards her tripping on the rug.

  “Now that he has returned, perhaps we can resume our deal, Mrs. Mason. You get your faithful servant back, at least for a few days, and I get my marriage rights, too. What do you say madam? Will I be allowed into your chamber tonight?”

  He placed his hand on her bare shoulder and I felt a pain as sharp as a knife ripping my guts. She removed herself from his grasp and edged to the other corner of the fireplace, nearest to the door.

  “Lieutenant Kirkpatrick is visiting his sister. He is not returning to Eyre Hall.”

  “I’m sure you could change his mind, and we should all benefit from it.”

  He turned towards me. “Tell me Lieutenant Kirkpatrick, how does my prudish little wife squeal and writhe when she is being…”

  “Richard! You are drunk. Please leave us.”

  “First answer my question, my wife; will you now open your chamber to both of us?”

  Jane gasped and moved towards him. “How dare you! Get out!”

  “I am your husband, at least in name. I will address you as I please, madam.” He grabbed her arm and a knife turned in my gut. I clenched my fists as I imagined my hands breaking his neck like a Christmas turkey’s, in one smooth movement.

  My voice from across the room broke through the tension. “Sir, what is your weapon?”

  He dropped her arm. The crackling fire emphasised the ominous silence that overcame the room. The long clock chimed. Seconds later Jane spoke evenly. “Please leave, Richard. Michael and I need to talk.”

  “About old times?” He laughed.

  “Mr. Mason, whichever weapon you choose, you will die unless you apologise to Mrs. Mason and take back your offensive remarks.”

  “You’re bluffing.”

  “I am an officer of Her Majesty’s Royal Navy. I do not bluff.”

  “Michael, old boy…”

  “Lieutenant Kirkpatrick, Mr. Mason.”

  “Quite, Lieutenant Kirkpatrick. You must have misunderstood me. I meant no offence to you or Mrs. Mason.”

  “Then could you apologise to your wife?”

  He bowed theatrically. “My apologies, madam.”

  “Mrs. Mason, are you satisfied?” She nodded, but I was not satisfied. “Please speak, Mrs. Mason.”

  “Yes, I am satisfied,” she whispered.

  “Mr. Mason, you are a fortunate man. Be sure to treat Mrs. Mason as the jewel she is, or believe me, I will make sure your death is as slow and painful as those who are cooked and devoured by cannibals in Surinam.”

  “You dare to threaten me in my own house?”

  “Mr. Mason. I have come to discuss a private matter with Mrs. Mason. Would you kindly leave us?”

  He walked to the door, turned to me and said, “You have not heard my last word,” as he left the room.

  Jane stared at the door for some moments before speaking. “I am married to a monster.”

  “It was your decision.” It was the truth. I had hated her for marrying him and part of me wanted her to suffer for having done so.

  “When you have a child, if you ever do, you will understand what I had to do.”

  “I gather the marriage is not happy?”

  “You know the answer to that question. Do not play with me, Lieutenant Kirkpatrick.”

  “Pardon me, Mrs. Mason. I am sorry that you are troubled by Mr. Mason.”

  “Fortunately he is rarely at Eyre Hall. When he is, I lock my door at night and sleep with a knife under my pillow. ”

  “He hasn’t hurt you?”

  “Do you care?”

  “Of course I care.” I strode towards her. “Has he?”

  “He tried to.” She looked towards the hearth and smiled. “But I used the stoker.”

  “Good idea.” My furrowed brow smoothed out into a smile. “I have seen you use it before, to great effect.”

  She smiled. “Dr. Carter was a saint in comparison. Mason tried to use a zombie powder Edward had told me about that they use in the Indies that converts people into will–less dolls. So I hit him and he has never tried to enter again.”

  I smiled. “I can believe that. He must be terrified of you,” I said, but I knew Jane did not have the strength to resist an attack if he ever tried to force her. My greatest concern was her safety, and she would only be safe if Mason were dead.

  “Not at all. I am the one who is frightened out of my wits, when he is at Eyre Hall, which fortunately is not frequently.”

  “I wish he had accepted my challenge so I could have killed him.” I was serious; my need to protect her was stronger than any idea of self–preservation, sanity or survival. I would never forgive myself if he hurt her.

  “Wh
y did you leave me, Michael?”

  I could not answer at once. My name on her lips once more wounded my heart more than any firearm.

  “You know why. I… we…. It was not, is not, possible.”

  “You broke my heart.”

  “It was never my intention to harm you. Please forgive me, Jane.”

  We looked at each other for what seemed a long moment until she finally spoke. “Well, let us sit down again. Tell me why you are here.”

  “I have come because Susan has asked for my help.”

  “Susan, of course,” she said as a sad smile crossed her lips. “What is the matter with Susan?”

  “Susan is with child.”

  “Dear God! Susan? How is it possible?”

  “She says she fell in love, but perhaps she was seduced.”

  “Who is the father?”

  “Dante Greenwood.”

  Her brow furrowed. “Dante? Are you sure?”

  I nodded.

  “Absolutely sure?”

  “Susan is sure.”

  “Are they in love?”

  “I believe so; at least that is what Susan has told me, although I have not spoken to Dante yet. I wanted to speak to you first.”

  She pressed her temples. I took a decanter, poured some brandy and handed it to her. She shook her head, so I washed it down myself and brought some water, which she accepted.

  “You must know that Mr. Greenwood has asked me for Annette’s hand in marriage to his son, Dante.”