by Helen Magee
‘I think I told you before that Alexander’s relations with my wife are not as one might expect between mother and son,’ he said carefully.
‘But with time,’ I said. ‘They have seen so little of each other this last year.’
I stopped in confusion, for of course Alexander had not ‘seen’ in the proper sense of the word at all the last year. He turned towards me again.
‘I see I shall have to speak plainly,’ he said. ‘Since the accident my wife has been greatly changed, a different person one might say.’ His voice was low, as if he were speaking more to himself than to me. ‘She is nervous and unpredictable and I have arranged for Dorcas to look after her. Dorcas will no longer have time to spare for Alexander.’ His voice changed. It was urgent now and almost pleading as he came towards me, his eyes on my face. He stood looking down at me.
‘You understand,’ he said, ‘Alexander will be in your care. Dorcas will be my wife’s constant companion.’
He took my hands in his and his face was close to mine as he bent his head.
‘Look after Alexander,’ he said, ‘I would not go away if I did not have to. Only look after the boy. If you should find yourself in need of help then go to Alison but remember this, I go only in the sure knowledge that you will be here.’
Then he released my hands and was gone from the room. I swayed on my feet, unable to comprehend the urgency of his words, caught up in a sea of whirling thoughts and emotions, only with the knowledge that I was no longer Alexander’s governess but his protector. But his protector from what?
I did not see him before he left, only heard the clatter of his horse’s hooves on the driveway later that afternoon, and I realised that I did not know where he had gone or even how long he would be away.
I was summoned once more just as I was going up to change for dinner, but this time it was Vida who had sent for me. She was in the small drawing room and I noticed that Dorcas was in attendance.
‘Ah, the governess,’ she said in her slightly accented voice as I entered, and two spots of colour burned high on her delicate cheekbones. I barely stopped myself from dropping a curtsey at her tone and stood quietly before her, my hands folded in front of me. She did not ask me to be seated. She was again all in black, a gown of the finest silk beaded with jet that seemed to quiver though she was sitting quite still. I realised that she was still in mourning for her sister though by this time she should surely be allowed a touch of colour. Black suited her and once again my mind compared her to some dark queen out of my childhood fairy-tales.
Her voice was imperious as she said, ‘I understand you have been in the habit of dining with the family.’
It was not a question and I gave no answer.
‘This is a practice that I consider quite unsuitable,’ she continued. ‘A good governess would never have consented to such a thing. However, since this is your first post I shall overlook it.’ Her lips curved in the suggestion of a smile. ‘Particularly since you have been regarded in rather a different light than as a governess in this household. I gather you were a friend of my brother-in-law, Charles, before you came here.’ The smile was evident now and cruel. ‘I would not wish you to presume on that friendship.’
I bit my lip and thought of Alexander. I must not antagonise her by replying.
‘You will take your meals in your room from now on. You will soon learn what is expected of a governess.’ She turned from me as she was speaking and picked up a piece of embroidery she had been working on.
‘You may go,’ she said.
I was dismissed. I had said nothing. I had accepted her insults and innuendoes and said nothing. Tears of anger stood in my eyes as I reached my room and I almost dashed the tray with its covered dishes from the table in my sitting room in my frustration, then I saw that the box containing the ball gown had gone and in its place was a small parcel. I opened it. It was a book of poetry and written on the flyleaf was ‘I hope this is a more acceptable gift, Lachlan Grant’. All my anger disappeared and, touched by his thoughtfulness, I sat down to my solitary meal in a more docile mood than I would have believed possible.
I had barely finished eating when there was a tap at my door and Dorcas came into the room. With her was Alexander and behind them two maids with blankets and a footman with a truckle bed. I looked at them in wonder as they began to set the bed up under Dorcas’s instructions but she motioned me to silence so I merely waited until they had finished and been dismissed. I put my arm around Alexander’s thin shoulders.
‘What is this about, Dorcas?’
‘Master’s orders,’ she said shortly. ‘The boy hasn’t been sleeping well of late and Master thought it best if you were close at hand.’
‘But that’s nonsense,’ I began, then I looked at the pale little face beside me and wondered if it were nonsense.
‘May I have Fergus here?’ he said to Dorcas.
She pursed up her lips then her eyes grew soft as she looked at him.
‘Don’t see why not if Miss Grainger don’t mind,’ she said.
‘May I, Flissy, please?’
I was almost too surprised to reply. Dorcas had always been so set against Alexander having the dog in his room.
‘Of course you can, Alexander,’ I said.
I should have liked a private word with Dorcas but she had gone.
‘They’ll be finished dinner by now,’ she had said. ‘I won’t wait any longer.’
I settled Aledander for the night in the sitting room and retired to my bedroom to read but I spent more time wondering what was going on than I did reading the book of poetry Lachlan had left for me, and when I at last fell asleep I was no nearer an answer.
All my time was now spent with Alexander and I hardly noticed how Araminta was avoiding me until I came across her cutting roses in the garden a few days later.
‘Araminta,’ I said, ‘won’t you come for a walk? Alexander and I are going down to the river.’
She looked up from her flower basket. ‘I’m too busy,’ she said.
I looked at her. ‘Too busy for a walk and a chat?’
‘I’m helping Vida with her flower arrangements,’ she said and turned back to her work.
I shrugged and moved on, but I found it odd that she should prefer work, however pleasant, to a stroll and a gossip. She must be getting on very well with Vida and I supposed I should be glad. For myself I avoided the mistress of Dryford as much as I could, conscious nonetheless of how at times I would find myself looking up at a window and find her watching me. It made me shiver slightly and I was glad Alexander could not see her. He spoke rarely of her and only when asked a direct question and the subject caused him such distress that I avoided it whenever possible.
Charles was a different matter. He waylaid me one day on my way from my room to the schoolroom.
‘I can hardly believe it,’ he said. ‘You’re alone. Where are your shadows?’
I laughed.
‘I only came to fetch a book I had forgotten. I’m just going back to them.’
He seized my hand. ‘Come for a walk this afternoon.’
I laughed again. ‘We’d love to.’
‘Oh, not the circus. Just you, Felicia.’
I frowned. ‘I can’t, Charles. I have Alexander to look after.’
‘But can’t he sit with Dorcas or amuse himself or something, anything, for an hour?’
‘No, he can’t,’ I said firmly. ‘Dorcas has her duties to Mrs Grant now and I have mine to Alexander.’
‘Duties. There you go again. I swear, Felicia, if you don’t mend your ways you’ll end up with a moustache and a dewdrop on the end of your nose like all the rest of your breed.’
I laughed once more and he gave in and agreed that we would all take a walk that afternoon.
‘What’s all this about Alexander moving into your room?’ he said as we walked together towards the Keep at the appointed hour.
‘He wasn’t sleeping well,’ I said glibly, ‘and Dorcas th
ought he’d be better off with me in case he needed anything during the night.’
Charles grunted. ‘Oh that’s it is it?’
‘Why?’ I said. ‘What did you think?’
His eyes laughed down at me and he pulled my arm through his as he said,
‘I thought perhaps Lachlan had decided you needed a chaperone while he was away. He doesn’t trust me you know.’
I couldn’t take offence but his words struck a memory and reminded me of what I had been wanting to talk to him about.
‘Charles,’ I said carefully, ‘have you been doing the accounts regularly since your brother left?’
I thought I detected a slight wariness in his look but he said pleasantly enough,
‘Your devotion to duty has inspired me to heights of diligence quite foreign to my nature.’
I wouldn’t be side-tracked. ‘Have you noticed anything odd about the figures?’ I said.
There was a definite wariness now.
‘Odd?’
I looked at him. He was so obvious. ‘Charles!’
He squeezed my hand, suddenly serious.
‘It’s all right. I’ll put it back and he’ll never notice.’
‘But why, Charles?’
He let go of my hand and kicked moodily at a fallen branch.
‘It was that last visit to London, the night I met you.’ He looked at me carefully but I could think of that evening now with a curious calm.
‘Go on,’ I said.
‘Well, I’d lost a packet and Lachlan had said that any more debts and I was out. No more allowance. No more home. No more anything. Don’t you understand, Felicia? If he found out I’d be out on my ear. It was my last chance. Believe me, that night I knew exactly how you felt standing by the river. It could have been me.’
All my anger disappeared.
‘It’s still stealing, Charles,’ I said gently.
He turned and his eyes, usually so good-natured, blazed with something near to fury.
‘Stealing?’ he said. ‘From my own land? My own inheritance?’
‘But, Charles,’ I protested, remembering what Douglas had told me.
‘Oh I know,’ he interrupted, ‘I know in law I have no real claim but even Lachlan recognises that I have a moral right. Can you imagine what it’s like, Felicia, to be a younger son? Simply by an accident of birth to have no right in law to your own home. To be dependent on someone else’s sense of fairness. If I had been the elder it would all have been mine. I wouldn’t have to account to Lachlan for every penny I spend. I’d be free to do what I liked and instead I’m not. He’s given me a share in the estate but I’ve got to work for it. All the money’s tied-up. I’ve got to toe the line or I get nothing and just because my father was no good with money. But then I don’t expect you to understand that.’
But I did. I understood so well, for if my own father hadn’t been so unlucky my mother and I would never have had to leave our home. I touched his arm gently.
‘I do understand, Charles. Really I do.’
He flashed me a look of wonder. ‘By God, Felicia, I believe you do.’
He took my hands and bent his head to mine, then Alexander’s voice could be heard from further along the path.
‘Flissy, where are you?’
Charles turned and I could not see his eyes as he said,
‘It’ll all be his some day. Even my share. Lachlan will buy me out. I know he needn’t and he’ll be generous but it’ll all belong to Alexander and he’ll never see it again.’
I shivered as if a cold wind suddenly blew about me.
‘Charles, don’t say that.’
He turned, his old smiling self once again.
‘Sorry, just being morbid, but the duns are after me and I always feel just the tiniest bit vulnerable when that happens.’
I drew in my breath. ‘Debt collectors?’ I said.
He nodded. ‘The worst kind. You can’t sue for gambling debts, you know. But don’t you worry. I have a plan and if it comes off I’ll never have to worry about money again.’
‘Oh, Charles, not more gambling.’
He laughed and patted my hand.
‘I suppose you could call it a gamble, but it’s not gambling.’
Then Alexander’s voice called more urgently and we made our way towards him.
That night I was awoken from a deep sleep. At first I did not know what had disturbed me, then I heard the low rumble of Fergus’s growl. I was suddenly fully awake. Silently I crept from my bed and moved towards the open door of my sitting room. Alexander was deeply asleep, his cheek pillowed on his hand, his hair darker than ever in the moonlight that filtered through a crack in the curtains. Fergus was standing at the end of the bed, his ear cocked, the hairs on the back of his neck standing straight up.
As I watched the handle of the sitting room door turned silently and softly the door was opened. I caught a swift glimpse of a dark figure before Fergus began to bark then the figure disappeared as quickly as it had come and I was at the door throwing it wide, Fergus at my heels. I silenced him and peered into the darkness of the corridor in time to catch sight of the edge of a dark cloak or dressing-gown disappearing round the corner. I sped along to the turning but there was nothing to be seen. Whoever it was had gone. I returned silently to my room, soothed back to sleep a half-awake child, calmed the dog and sat for a long time before I, too, fell asleep. But before I did I made sure that both doors to the corridor were locked. I was glad of Fergus.
I looked with special interest at the household the next day. Who could it have been? Certainly no one who cared to be seen or they would not have fled when Fergus began to bark. No one made mention of the incident and in the circumstances neither did I. I did not want to be summoned by Vida and dismissed for having nocturnal visitors to my room. I had little chance to speculate however for that afternoon Araminta had hysterics. She had lost the diamond pendant Lachlan had given her for her eighteenth birthday. I tried to calm her but it was no good. The house was turned upside-down in an effort to find it. The diamond was not found. The gold chain on which it had hung, however, was. I was sent for by Vida and dismissed.
The interview with Vida was not pleasant. I made no answer, no defence to her accusations. It would have done me no good but I did wonder who had done this to me. All I could think of was that now there would be no one to look after Alexander and, as I remembered Lachlan’s last words to me, my throat tightened in fear. When I left Vida to go and pack I ignored her orders and rushed straight upstairs to Alexander.
He was alone.
‘Alexander,’ I began.
‘I heard,’ he said. His voice was small and I could see traces of tears on his cheeks.
‘I did not take the diamond,’ I said firmly.
He turned to me, his mouth curling scornfully. ‘There was no need for you to tell me that.’
‘I’m sorry,’ I replied, ‘I should have known you would not believe that of me. But I shall have to leave, Alexander.’
His head drooped. ‘Like the others,’ he said.
There was nothing I could say, no comfort I could give him for he was right and like the others I was leaving. I went to him and put my arms around his slight body. He clung to me and for a moment I thought – I will take him with me – then good sense told me that to add abduction to an accusation of theft would be an act of madness. I heard swift steps on the stairs and I whispered to him urgently,
‘Alexander, be careful. Your father will be home soon but until then keep Fergus with you and take care.’
His beautiful sightless eyes were on my face and I gasped at the knowledge I seemed to see there.
‘I’ll be careful,’ he said.
I wanted to probe more deeply, to ask him what he knew, but at that moment the door was flung open and a voice said,
‘What the devil is going on?’
Alexander’s face became its old polite mask again and I turned to Charles.
‘You’ve heard?�
�
‘I was out all morning. You’re not leaving?’
‘I must.’
‘But it’s absurd. No one would believe it.’
‘Vida does and the chain was found in my room.’
‘The chain,’ he said dismissively. ‘Anyone could have put that there. What about the diamond?’
‘They haven’t found that yet,’ I said.
‘But she can’t send you away just because someone put the chain in your room.’
I became impatient.
‘Oh, Charles, don’t be obtuse. I’m a servant. It’s a wonder I’m not being sent to prison.’
‘But when they find the diamond,’ he said.
‘If they find it.’
‘Oh they’ll find it,’ he said airily, ‘You know Araminta. It’ll probably be in her handkerchief drawer or somewhere but, Felicia, I shall miss you.’
I looked at him. Charming, debonair, and I wondered if I had been right in assuming that he had taken the diamond. It was a dreadful thing to think and I could not believe that he had deliberately implicated me, but he needed money so badly and only I knew why.
‘And I shall miss you, Charles,’ I said and it was true. ‘And now I must go.’
I turned to Alexander and gave him a swift hug. There was nothing to say and I left him sitting on his own in the schoolroom as pale and withdrawn as when I had first met him. I sighed.
‘Charles, will you take a letter to Alison for me?’
He looked surprised.
‘Why, yes, of course, but if you want to see her she’s here. We were out riding this morning.’
‘Do you think she would come to my room? There isn’t much time.’
He squeezed my hand. ‘I’ll tell her.’
There was a light tap on my door and Alison entered. She was wearing a dark blue riding habit that suited her delicate colouring and I noticed her cheeks were flushed.
‘Felicia, my dear,’ she said coming towards me, her hands outstretched. ‘This is a terrible thing. How upset you must be.’
I nodded, but I could not waste time though I was grateful and touched by her sympathy.
‘It’s about Alexander,’ I said. ‘He will have no one to look after him now that Dorcas is needed by Mrs Grant.’ I hesitated, unsure of how much to say. ‘His father told me just before he left that if I should need help, if Alexander . . . ’ I stopped. What could I say? ‘Alexander is in danger. From what or from whom I do not know’. She laid a hand on my arm.