Twelfth Night at Eyre Hall

by Luccia Gray

  “Could it have been accident?”

  “It could. There have been many incidents of arsenic poisoning of whole families, who mistook arsenic for flour, baking powder, or even sugar, due to its similar aspect. However, no one else has been affected and I presume you all ate the same food?”

  “Yes, we all had chicken broth and roast ham. Cook had made plum pudding which he did not care to eat, saying he was feeling unsettled.”

  “So it was probably the soup. Did you all eat the soup?”

  “Yes, it was delicious.”

  “Who served it?”

  “Simon and Beth always serve dinner when there are guests at Eyre Hall.”

  “So, it comes back to Simon, again.”

  “Richard asked Simon to take up his brandy when he retired because he said he was unwell.”

  “And he left straight after, in the middle of a snow storm.” He shook his head. “I also find it hard to imagine Simon carrying out such a crime, Mrs. Mason, but you must agree that his name keeps cropping up suspiciously in our investigation.”

  I nodded.

  “Where is Michael, may I ask? Is he still at the inn? Was he not at Eyre Hall yesterday?”

  “Michael is in London, on business.”

  “In London?” he repeated, surprised. “Another coincidence,” he said quietly, as if he were speaking to himself. He scratched Michael’s name on the page with the other names and added the words, ‘In London’ and a question mark.

  Could Michael have convinced Simon to be his accomplice in the murder as Dr. Carter was suggesting? Michael had plenty of reasons to hate Mason, and to wish him dead. He could have manipulated Simon, but would he risk the noose? Would he have planned it without telling me about it? I knew Michael had a darker side, which was capable of killing in order to survive and protect his loved ones, but would he have planned Richard’s death in cold blood and enlisted Simon’s help? I knew it was not possible.

  “I am convinced that Michael had nothing to do with Richard’s death. I would stake my life on it, Dr. Carter.”

  He looked at me for a long time without replying. He was obviously not convinced, but he was wise enough not to contradict me. Michael was understandably his main suspect, and in spite of my words, I was terrified that Dr. Carter might be right.

  “Well, Mrs. Mason, I will take the list with me and ponder on our conversation. I will be back tomorrow evening. I should like to speak to Simon as soon as he returns.”

  As he stood to leave, I asked him one last question. “Dr. Carter, once we have discovered the murderer, what will happen?”

  “That will depend. If we were to inform the constable, there would be a great and unnecessary scandal. On the other hand, we could think of a suitable punishment, which could involve voluntary transportation to Australia, for example. Let us find the culprits first.”

  When he left I felt drained and confused. I dreaded the thought of Michael in a jail waiting for a public execution, or being deported to Australia, which would be even worse. He would be alive but so far from me that I would never see him again. I looked out of the window to the vastness of the immaculate snow and prayed that he had not committed such a reckless act.

  ***

  Chapter XVII – Helen’s Mother

  I tried in vain to contain my anger as I approached the servants’ quarters at Eyre Hall. Daisy was helping cook on the stove while Beth and Simon prepared the trays of food to be carried upstairs to the drawing room for the mourners. I bid them all good morning. They stopped their work and welcomed me warmly, offering me food and drink, which I turned down. They told me how upset they all were with Mr. Mason’s sudden death, and complained about the endless stream of visitors to the house.

  I approached Jenny who was sewing by the kitchen window. “I would like a word with you, Jenny.”

  “Well, good morning, Lieutenant. ‘Tis a good day for you, ain’t it?”

  “Now. In private.”

  “My, is it my lucky day today, too?”

  I grabbed her arm, squeezing tightly enough to hurt her.

  She smiled. “Want it rough do you?” I pulled her out of the kitchen and down the stairs to the scullery, in the basement, where I knew we would not be heard. She rushed to the corner behind a table laden with scrubbing brushes, next to some shelves where the bottles of soap were kept.

  “What do you want? Keep away. You’re frightening me!” I ducked as she threw some bottles across the room.

  “I only want to talk to you.”

  When she had run out of bottles to throw, I continued. “I have been to London to visit a lady who calls herself Mrs. Banks.”

  She screamed, threw a brush at me, and tried to rush to the door, but I caught her.

  “Let go! You’ll break my arm! You brute!”

  “I shall break more than your arm if I have to.”

  “I ain’t done nothing wrong. I did what they told me.”

  “Sit and listen.” I pushed her onto a discarded wicker rocking chair behind the door.

  “Are you going to hurt me?”

  “That will be up to you.”

  “What do you want?”

  “Nell is not your daughter, and you know it. You knew who her mother was, and you kept her.”

  “I was hired as wet nurse and then told to take her to London and leave her there. I didn’t ask no questions.”

  “Your daughter died in London, not Jane’s.”

  “I looked after Nell! They didn’t want her!”

  “A fine way of looking after her! You barely fed her, and had her working all day in the fields as a scarecrow!”

  “It was their fault my baby died. If I hadn’t of gone to London she wouldn’t of died. I’d already lost my little boy when I went to Jamaica with Richard, after Annette was born. They took my two babies away!”

  “You went to Jamaica with Annette and Mason?”

  “When the madwoman had the baby, they needed a wet nurse, so he took me with him to Jamaica. I had a little boy, but I left him behind with my husband. When I came back, they had both died. I had nothing. I lost everything I had because of them. They used me and threw me out. I had to work at the hotel in Millcote. That’s when I started selling myself. I met Mr. Rosset, and I had Thomas, but Rosset left me too. I went back to the hotel, and I had Nell. Dr. Carter called me again, ’cos they wanted a wet nurse for Jane’s baby. So I took them both to London and my poor Nell died. They didn’t want Jane’s baby, so I kept her. They owed it to me!”

  “Jane has been looking for her daughter for ten years! She would have lived like a princess.”

  “I did my best. I asked Susan to teach her to read, didn’t I?”

  “She should have been at school all day, not working in a field.”

  “Well, she’s all right now, ain’t she?”

  “You and Thomas have been abusing and beating her.”

  “She’s changed since we came here. Thinks she’s better than us!”

  “Make no mistake, she is better than you. She’s Jane’s daughter. Her real name is Helen Eyre Rochester, and she is entitled to her birthright. Don’t you dare put a single finger on her again or I’ll make sure it’s the last thing you ever do.”

  “So, she’s worth a lot of money now, is she?”

  I watched her face spin and felt her cheekbone splinter as my fist hit her face.

  “Pity you had to fall down the stairs. A person could easily break a leg or even their back in such a fall.”

  She brushed the blood away from her face with her sleeves. “What do you want?”

  “You will leave Eyre Hall.”

  “I was planning to leave Eyre Hall anyway. I was only here ’cos Richard wanted me here. She killed him, didn’t she? Or perhaps you both did.”

  I wondered how much she knew about Mason’s death. Probably more than I did, and the way in which she could put that knowledge to use worried me. The thought had crossed my mind that Jane would have precipitated his death out
of desperation or fear.

  “What do you know about his death?”

  “I know he was healthy enough to spend the night with me and Beth and Christy the day before he died. Who else would want to kill him? You and her. You wasn’t here, so that leaves her, don’t it? Unless you planned it together of course.”

  “Don’t you dare accuse Mrs. Mason of a criminal act!”

  “No need to worry, Michael. She’s got it all under control. Bought that new Dr. Carter who said it was a natural death.” She laughed mockingly. I was relieved that Dr. Carter was on her side, but concerned about the mysterious death. At least I knew that Jenny only had unproven suspicions.

  “What were you doing in his room the evening he died?”

  She smiled. “What I always do in his room, please him.”

  “He was dead when you went in.”

  “How do you know that?” She looked genuinely surprised, so perhaps she had not even noticed.

  “What were you doing in his room?”

  “He’d been sick and he stunk, so I didn’t go anywhere near him. I thought he was sleeping, so I left.”

  “What were you carrying under your arm?”

  Shock crossed her face once more.

  “Did you kill him? Perhaps to rob him?”

  “No! I told you; I thought he was sleeping. I took some money and some jewels. He had lots of stuff, good stuff. He liked me to wear it and pretend I was a lady. Anyway, he don’t need it now, does he?”

  “That makes you look very guilty, Jenny. Theft and murder. You could be hanged.”

  “I ain’t never killed no one!”

  “You will leave, and Thomas will leave with you. You will both move far away from the Rochester Estate.”

  “Ain’t got no objection, but I need to find him a job first.”

  I gave her the papers I had collected at the Colonial Office in London.

  “Mrs. Mason will give you and your son the money to start a new life in the new colony, Australia.”

  “What?”

  “You will have your passage and a plot of land. You will have to work to build your house. You are still young. Perhaps you will be able to marry and settle down in your own home with your son.”

  “Australia. That’s at the end of the world!”

  “It’s far enough from Eyre Hall so that you will never return. It is eight months of sea travel.”

  “You’re mad if you think I’m going to Australia. She can have the ungrateful bitch back if she wants her, but she’ll have to pay for her, and I want a pretty sum, so I’ll start a new life right here, in Millcote.”

  I was having a hard time controlling the beast in me who wanted to twist her neck until I heard it crack; instead, I twisted her arm until just before I thought it would break. I waited for her to stop screaming before speaking.

  “You haven’t understood me at all. Mrs. Mason will pay for your passage and expenses to Australia, and she will look after your daughter because you are a most inadequate and violent mother. That is all she knows.”

  “And when are you going to tell Mrs. Mason that her servant is her daughter? And when are you going to tell Nell that her mother employs her as a servant?”

  “For the moment it will be our secret. I’ll decide when they should know the truth.”

  “And you’ll have to tell poor little Nell that they didn’t want her and gave her away when she was born, won’t you?”

  “Mrs. Mason was tricked into believing Nell was stillborn, and Mr. Rochester disposed of her, with the help of Dr. Carter.”

  “Is that what she told you? How do you know it’s true?”

  “We both know it’s true, Jenny.”

  “And if I don’t want to go to Australia?”

  “You may well end up in Australia anyway, but as a penniless convict. Child theft and child abuse are serious crimes, not to mention robbery and murder. I’ll make sure Mrs. Mason is angry enough to have you convicted in a court of law.”

  “I’ll have to think about it.”

  “Or you may be found at the bottom of a ditch on any moonless night.”

  “What has she done to you, Michael? You’ve become a ruthless murderer. You was an innocent when I met you.”

  “I was not innocent, Jenny. I was inexperienced. I am not ruthless. I do not steal, beat, abuse little girls, or threaten virtuous people, but I will kill you if I have to, so sign these papers. I’ll take care of the rest.”

  She signed, of course. “Make no mistake, Jenny, you have made the correct choice to guarantee your wellbeing, and your son’s.”

  “When am I leaving?”

  “You shall sail from Liverpool docks on the 15th of January.”

  “That’s too soon! It’s in a week’s time. Can I write Nell a letter? You could give it to her, when you tell her. I don’t want her to hate me or Thomas, and it was you who taught me how to read and write, don’t you remember?”

  “Write it if you like, but I promise nothing.”

  I returned to the kitchen. Cook was still baking cakes and Daisy was washing the dishes. I walked up the stairs with Beth and Simon who were taking the trays to the drawing room. I asked Simon where Mrs. Mason was, and my spirits rose when he answered that she was in the library with Nell. Before I could open the door, a young valet approached.

  “Excuse me, sir. Can I help you?”

  “Could you tell Mrs. Mason that Lieutenant Kirkpatrick would like to see her?”

  “I’m afraid she has asked not to be disturbed unless it was very important.”

  I realised that he was doing the job I used to do, looking after Jane, making sure she was not unduly disturbed, catering for her needs, and I felt jealous of this man who was now so close to her.

  “You are new here, are you not?”

  “Yes, sir. I am Fred, sir, and I beg your pardon sir, but Mrs. Mason cannot see you. Would you like to wait with the other guests in the drawing room?”

  “Fred, I assure you Mrs. Mason considers my visit very important.”

  “I’m sorry, sir, but I haven’t been informed.”

  “You are being informed now. Will you announce me?”

  He was still hesitating, wondering whether it would displease his new employer to allow my visit or to turn me away. I saw Simon leaving the drawing room with an empty tray.

  “Simon,” I called. “Would you tell Fred that Mrs. Mason would not like me to be turned away?”

  “She’ll have your guts for garters if you turn Michael away, Fred! Mark my words.”

  “Well, Fred?”

  As he opened the door, I said “Good decision, Fred,” but I did not like the icy look he shot me.

  ***

  Only a day after Richard’s death, Eyre Hall was bursting with visitors offering their condolences, eating cold meat and pate voraciously, and drinking punch as if it were a scorching summer’s day. After acknowledging their presence and customary words of sympathy, I had excused myself and retired to the library with Nell. We had just had a light lunch, and Nell was reading the final chapter of Persuasion. I was not very fond of Jane Austen; her heroines were too concerned with finding a suitable husband, and not with finding their vocation and making the world a better place. However, I was prepared to humour Nell with a lighter novel, after the dramatic events in the previous novel we had read, Silas Marner.

  I had instructed Fred, our new valet, that we should not be disturbed on any account for the next few hours, so I was pleasantly surprised when he interrupted our reading to announce Michael’s arrival. Nell threw the book on the floor and flew to the door, stumbling into his arms.

  “How’s your cough, Nell?” he asked as he pressed a kiss on her cheek.

  “Much better, Michael! Dr. Carter told me to gargle hot lemon juice and he gave me a cough syrup and I got well ever so quickly!” She spoke enthusiastically as Michael laughed.

  “Nell, your manners. Refrain from shouting. We are in mourning. Whatever will the guests think?” I sm
iled as I chastised her.

  “I am sorry, Mrs. Mason,” she replied bringing her hand to her mouth before turning to Michael. “Did you know that Mr. Mason died while you were away in London, Michael?”

  “I have just been told.”

  The moment I felt his gaze on my face, I knew he had found Helen, but I also knew there was something wrong.

  “May I offer you my condolences Mrs. Mason?”

  I nodded. “Please come and sit with us by the fire and tell us about your visit to London, Lieutenant Kirkpatrick.”

  “I’ve never been to London, Michael. What’s it like?” asked Nell.

  “It’s big, crowded, dirty, and smelly. It’s much nicer here at Eyre Hall.” He smiled lovingly as he smoothed her hair behind her ears. “Who combed your hair today, Nell?”

  “I did it myself.”

  “Looks like it. Perhaps Beth or Christy could help you next time.”

  I felt a raw melancholy and a small pang of regret at his tenderness to Nell, as I wondered if he would ever miss having children.

  “Mrs. Mason plaited my hair yesterday and it looked lovely. Beth and Christy were too busy preparing the food for the guests to comb my hair, and Mummy never plaits my hair.”

  He looked at me and smiled. “Perhaps Mrs. Mason would like to plait it for you now?”

  They both looked at me expectantly. “Of course. Bring me a comb, Nell.”

  She jumped up and ran out of the room. Michael remained silent. He squeezed my hand and looked into the flames thoughtfully, until Nell ran back in with the comb.

  “I brought you a present from London, Nell.”

  “A present for me? I love presents. I hardly ever get any, you see. What is it?”

  He handed her a small package. “Open it.”

  She grabbed it impatiently and tore the paper away. It was a pretty, pink lace headband with a matching hand–rolled flower.

  “Thank you, Michael. It is so beautiful! Can I wear it now?”

  “I hope you will.”

  “Let me comb your hair first, Nell,” I said as I took the comb and started sliding it through her thick tresses. “Goodness, you need some rose cold cream on it. It’s getting far too curly and difficult to manage.”