The Lady and the Lake

by Rosemary Smith

  ‘Of course, Miss, I’ll see you in the kitchen,’ she said.

  As I approached Henrietta’s sitting-room I could hear raised voices, the door was slightly ajar and I heard Mrs Kershaw’s voice.

  ‘You will not marry her she is beneath you.’ Holding my breath I waited to hear the reply.

  Thankfully it was Antony and not Thomas who spoke, ‘If I wish to marry Miss Anderson, you will not stop me. All my life you have domineered me and I have done your bidding, but over this I will not be moved,’ he said emphatically.

  ‘I forbid you to bring her to this house,’ said Henrietta harshly.

  ‘But it is my house, mother and I shall bring who I like here and that is my final word.’

  As he spoke I scurried back along the corridor and joined Maggie in the kitchen for a cup of tea, all the while thinking that Henrietta Kershaw was losing her grip on this household, including the master, and he it would appear was to be married. Very obviously love was in the air.

  Thomas kept to his word and came to my room at twelve-thirty that night. I’d had the foresight to tie back my hair with a blue ribbon. As I let him in he said, ‘Fear not lovely lady for I come to your room with good intentions and only to assist you in solving the mystery of the tower,’ and I laughed. The thought crossing my mind that he would make a good husband for he managed to cause merriment all the time.

  At a quarter to one we sat together quietly on the bed waiting for the footsteps. No mention had been made of marriage and I felt quite despondent, then realised it wasn’t really the right time to talk of such things. My thoughts were interrupted by the sound of footsteps. We both got to our feet and quickly made our way to the door of the tower being as quiet as possible.

  Thomas held my hand, the corridor was silent and I fell a few steps behind him feeling quite nervous. The tower door was ajar and we gently eased it back so we could pass through.

  The light of the candle from above lighting the stone steps before us. I lifted my skirts as I followed Thomas towards the curve in the stairway. It was then that the piercing scream came. Close to it was far worse than I’d heard it in my bedroom, I clapped my hands over my ears as I could hardly bear it.

  When it stopped the sound of it still echoed faintly round the tower, Thomas moved forward and beckoned me on. We stood almost touching in the final step, with the woman in white before us her frame almost obscuring the narrow mirror.

  Even as we looked she held the candle high and turned slowly around. I gasped when I saw the twisted face before us, it was then she saw us. I looked mesmerised by the pink scars on her cheeks and could see she only had one eye. I looked at the bright red rouge on the twisted mouth and knew without a doubt it was Henrietta Kershaw.

  ‘So you’ve seen me now,’ she said, a sob escaping her lips. ‘Now what will you do, hate me more?’ And the tears started to roll down her cheeks.

  ‘We don’t hate you, Aunt Henry,’ said Thomas with compassion in his voice, and in that moment I was certain that I loved him.

  ‘I’ve lived with this for thirty-five years. Some nights I just have to look at myself hoping that at some time I would find myself beautiful again, but I still see the same scars and my heart is heavy for I want the old me back.’ As she spoke the candle wavered in her hand and Thomas gently took it from her and I could see that the old lady’s hair was a beautiful silver grey falling over her shoulders. The more I looked at her the less I noticed her twisted face and could see the poor tormented soul that lay behind it.

  ‘Come, Aunt Henry,’ said Thomas gently, let me take you back to your room.’

  ‘I will do that, Sir.’ We turned around to see Mrs Grafton on the stairs, a candle in her hand and I could now understand her loyalty to the poor creature who stood in the tower.

  ‘How did you know, Thomas?’ His aunt asked of him.

  ‘Abbey, I mean Miss Sinclair, has heard you most nights since her arrival,’ he explained.

  ‘And how is that, Abigail?’ the old lady directed at me, but Mrs Grafton gave me no chance to answer.

  ‘I put her in the room next to the tower, hoping she would succumb to it as the others before her and leave. I’m sorry, Mistress, but you don’t need anyone else when you have me.’

  ‘Jealousy is a terrible thing, Beatrice Grafton,’ began Mrs Kershaw, then she turned her attention to me.

  ‘Take heed of my words, Abigail, for they will stand you in good stead.’ At her words my mind flew to Alice. Thomas took his aunt’s hand and led her to Mrs Grafton.

  Before they descended the stairs Henrietta Kershaw turned back and looking at me said, ‘Value your beauty Abigail for one day it will be gone.’ With those words Mrs Grafton took her mistress back to her room.

  I wept and Thomas gently laid my head on his shoulder smoothing my hair. I could see our reflection in the mirror, we were united and I knew that I not only loved him, but was destined to be with him.

  Was it a shock for you also?’ I asked him when I’d calmed down.

  ‘Indeed it was, for I had never seen her face, I shall speak to Antony later and suggest that this mirror be removed for the only purpose it is serving is to distress my aunt each time she comes up here,’ he told me.

  Later, back on my own in my room, I looked out of the window thinking of Henrietta, poor lady. The full moon glimmered on the lake almost dividing it in two. The beauty of it called me and against my better judgement I decided to walk around it and sit in the summer pavilion with my thoughts in the moonlight.

  10

  The servants’ entrance was locked, but the key had been left in the door, I turned it gently although I knew that no-one was likely to be around at two-thirty in the morning. My only concern was that someone would lock the door again before I came back in, but I didn’t intend to be long.

  After the discovery Thomas and I had made in the tower I needed some fresh air before I tried to sleep. Thomas had gone back to the long gallery to finish some notes he was making.

  Everything looked different at night and I could hear the hooting of an owl somewhere nearby on the moor. I could see the outline of the summer pavilion towards which I was heading. I stopped suddenly as I thought I heard another footstep on the path, but looking around I could see no-one was there. It had obviously been an echo of my own. I moved on marvelling at how the lake shimmered with white light, but in some parts seeming black and deep and mysterious.

  I shivered, apprehension taking over me and I stopped again, uncertain of whether to go forward or to retrace my steps. I shivered again, but decided to proceed to the summer pavilion, for after all what harm could possibly befall me at this late hour.

  A small area of grass surrounded the small building and I stepped noiselessly across the springy damp turf, my shoes feeling damp as I stepped on to what appeared to be a marble floor. In the centre of the floor was a small round table surrounded by four white intricately carved seats. I sat on one and realised it was made of some kind of heavy metal as it felt cold to the touch.

  It was certainly a lovely spot as it commanded a view of the lake and the house which was outlined by the light of the moon. To look at Kerslake Hall from here on a quiet, warm, still early morning the building appeared tranquil and calm. I glanced at the tower and could hardly believe I had entered it with Thomas only a couple of hours before.

  The whole episode now seeming unreal to me, I could heard the water lapping gently against the ground and shivered again as I thought of what had happened in its depths. Rising to my feet I moved out of the pavilion.

  As I stepped on to the grass a figure loomed suddenly before me and my heart started racing, but I could see it was only Alice and my heartbeat steadied itself.

  ‘What are you doing here?’ I asked, my voice quivering, for although a warm night I suddenly felt very cold and wished I wore a shawl over my shoulders.

  ‘I could ask you the same question.’ Alice’s voice was calm and as the moonlight fell on her face she looked almost et
hereal as if she were made of alabaster.

  ‘I couldn’t sleep,’ I explained, ‘and the lake looked so beautiful tonight.’

  ‘Yes,’ Alice said dreamily, ‘it is rather lovely. I couldn’t sleep either and saw you from my window walking along the path so I thought to join you and apologise for my behaviour earlier.’

  ‘Thank you for your apology,’ I said, my voice quite steady now.

  ‘Shall we walk together back to the house?’ asked Alice in a quiet friendly manner.

  ‘Yes,’ I agreed.

  ‘Please could you walk next to the lake as I hate the water and cannot swim,’ she admitted.

  ‘But of course. For even though I can’t swim I have no fear of water.’ Were the words I spoke true I wondered as I looked into the lake’s murky depths.

  We continued walking in what seemed like a companionable silence then the moon was hidden momentarily behind a cloud and I suddenly felt my whole body being pushed to the ground. Something caught my side and I suddenly realised we were at the spot where Phoebe had died and it was her plaque that had caused me such pain.

  For seconds I couldn’t imagine what had happened to me, then I felt Alice push me further to the ground and I realised with horror that my head was hanging over the lake. I could feel the cold water seeping through my hair. I looked up at her unable to comprehend fully what was happening.

  ‘It’s you!’ I said foolishly. ‘You who murdered Annie and Gladys, but for what reason, and now why me?’ A sob escaped my lips and I felt Alice push my head under the water. She was strong but I was stronger, I fought against her hands and within seconds came out of the water, gasping and spluttering for air.

  ‘No-one will have him but ME!’ Alice screamed. She looked like a mad woman and all the beauty had gone out of her face.

  ‘Who are you talking about?’ I managed to gasp, my lungs near to bursting point.

  ‘The master of course!’ As she spoke I could feel her weight on my body. I just needed to take her off guard, get her to talk I thought to myself.

  ‘But I have no interest in Antony Kershaw,’ I said quietly, my strength suddenly returning.

  ‘Don’t lie!’ she screamed, ‘I heard you in the drawing-room together, he said you were lovely and he tried to gain an encounter with Annie and Gladys, I couldn’t bear that so I lured them here on the pretence that they could be a maid here at the Hall.’

  Her grip on me was relaxing. I took my chance and pushed her off me with all my strength and scrambled to my feet. My legs would hardly run although I made the effort but Alice ran faster and caught at my legs pulling me off my feet once more. As she went to hold me down I rolled over and the next thing I heard was a splash in the

  water, horrified I could see Alice thrashing about in the lake.

  ‘Please help me,’ she called, ‘I can’t swim, I shall drown.’ I lay on the side of the lake and stretched out my arm to her, but she couldn’t reach it. Try as I might to grasp her hand it was to no avail. ‘It is deep,’ were the last words I heard from her before the lake enveloped her whole body.

  I heard someone running on the path, suddenly I looked up into Thomas’s face and felt him gather me in his arms, when mercifully I slipped into unconsciousness. Maggie was the first person I saw on waking. She sat on a wooden chair, her anxious face looking down at me.

  ‘Miss Abbey, you’re awake,’ she declared with obvious joy, ‘you’ve slept for twenty-four hours, everyone is right concerned about you. I’ll just tell someone you’re awake.’

  As Maggie left I struggled to sit up and realised I was in a large bed in unfamiliar surroundings. The horror of my tussle with Alice came back to me and I sank back again on the plump pillow. Oh Lord, I thought, I give thanks that I’m alive and what of Alice. This thought agitated me.

  Maggie returned with Thomas, my beloved Thomas. He sat on the chair and reaching for my hand clasped it securely in his own.

  ‘Sweetheart,’ he said gently, ‘can you recall what happened?’

  ‘Only too well.’ I answered with a voice that didn’t seem my own. ‘Is that rain?’ I asked, for as I looked at the long window draped with red curtains I fancied I could hear rain splattering on the grass.

  ‘Yes it is my love, but think not of the weather. Can you tell me what happened?’ he asked stroking the back of my hand with his free one.

  ‘How... how did you know that I was by the lake for it was you who came to me, wasn’t it?’ I stammered, the full picture coming back in my mind.

  ‘I saw you walking with someone as I looked from the long gallery window, you were quite clear in the moonlight, then as the cloud overshadowed the moon I lost sight of you briefly and when the light returned I could see you both on the ground. Fearing someone had fallen in the lake I hastened down to you, but it was too late to save Alice,’ Thomas told me.

  ‘Is she dead then?’ I asked quietly.

  ‘Yes I am afraid so.’ He squeezed my hand as he told me.

  ‘She tried to kill me,’ I admitted, a sob escaping my lips. ‘She held my head underwater. She also killed poor Annie and Gladys,’ I told him, tears of relief streaming down my face.

  ‘That explains why your lovely hair was wringing wet, I must tell my cousin who is with the police at this moment. We did think there was something strange about it all. What possessed you to walk out at such a time?’ asked Thomas.

  ‘It was the moonlight, everything looked so pleasant, I thought the fresh air would help me sleep, but the lake will now only hold dread for me whether by sunlight or the silvery light of the moon.’ As I spoke I looked across Thomas’ shoulder and gave an encouraging smile to Maggie who looked quite worried.

  ‘Try to put it from your mind, Maggie will get you some hot broth while I speak to Antony.’ As Thomas left me he gave my hand a loving squeeze, but I knew that no matter how hard I tried the thought of that night would take a long time to fade from my memory. I would keep feeling my head under water and see Alice thrashing about in the cool lake.

  When I was strong enough I got out of bed and with Maggie’s help went to look from the window, the sun was shining again and thankfully I was at the front of the building. I would have to leave this place as soon as I was able.

  11

  When that day arrived, I asked Maggie if she would kindly gather my things together in my valise for me, to which she agreed. I’d seen little of Thomas since the day I awoke, nothing had been said about his proposal of marriage and I was beginning to think I’d dreamt everything good and bad since I’d arrived at Kerslake Hall.

  Maggie brought my packed valise to me, my best blue dress and petticoat over her arm.

  ‘Two people have requested to see you,’ she ordered, and so I did as I was bid, slipping the blue dress on and thinking of Alice as I did so, and how she’d cut off the silk flowers in a frenzy of jealousy.

  ‘And who wishes to see me?’ I asked Maggie, straightening the skirts of my dress and thinking how loose it was at the waist. I’d obviously lost weight, but who wouldn’t after the ordeal I’d been through.

  ‘Mrs Kershaw and Mr Craddock in that order, Miss Abbey,’ Maggie told me as she brushed and arranged my hair on her insistence.

  So I walked towards the main staircase at Kerslake Hall. As I reached the top of it I could see that I was on the opposite side of the long gallery. Seeing the door I went to open it and stepped inside looking at the paintings on the wall recalling how Thomas had loosened my hair that day which seemed so long ago.

  I walked down to the portrait of Henrietta Kershaw and stood for some time looking at the lovely face which looked back at me and I thought of the old lady’s words that night in the tower, ‘Value your beauty Abigail, cherish it for one day it will be gone.’

  As I made my way back to the door, I took a look through the squint in the wall and could see Thomas crossing the hall to what I now knew to be the drawing-room and in my mind could see Alice crossing the hall on that other occasion.

 
; Alice, who had turned out to be a murderess. I shuddered at the very thought of myself lying under the still water of the lake and made my way back to the stairs, descending them slowly to the black and white hall below, the hem of my blue skirts brushing the carpet beneath my feet.

  Tapping on Mrs Kershaw’s sitting-room door, I recalled the day of my arrival and my employer’s acid tongue. Since then in a few short weeks I had learnt much about her and could forgive her.

  ‘Come in,’ called a much softer voice. I opened the door and entered the room, sunlight did not flood the room with its rays at this time of day so I did not feel at a disadvantage as I had on that other occasion.

  ‘You look well, Abigail. A little thinner it is true, but after all you have been through could any one of us be surprised.’ As Henrietta Kershaw spoke I looked at her, gone was the veil and she wore a cheerful red dress which suited her silver grey hair.

  Like anyone else I would see through the scars and twisted face to see the person beneath. The woman I now looked at was far different to the sharp, bitter old lady who had been there before. ‘I thank you and my nephew,’ she continued, ‘for I have decided to make the most of my life and hideaway no longer.’

  ‘That is good to hear, Mrs Kershaw,’ I said honestly.

  ‘I understand you wish to leave us,’ the new Henrietta observed.

  ‘That is true, for after my experience at the lake,’ here my voice trembled, ‘I sadly cannot stay.’

  ‘I shall be sorry to see you go,’ said Henrietta, ‘for you stood up to me and helped me to see myself as I had become over the years, but trust me when I say you have a good life ahead of you and you’ve not seen the last of me, I promise.’

  What she meant by this I didn’t know, but would no doubt find out soon. ‘Thank you,’ I said.

  ‘Come closer to me for I have something for you,’ said the old lady. I did as Henrietta bid and she handed me an emerald necklace and the box to go with it. ‘I want you to have this, for it was my mother’s.’