Among the Darkness Stirs

by Nicola Italia

  Alistair agreed and then began to cough loudly until Marguerite handed him a glass of water.

  “Are you taking Mrs. Winslow’s Soothing Syrup?” she asked. “I gave you the bottle.”

  He nodded and seemed to collect himself. “I am, but it doesn’t work.”

  “I should be going,” Audrey said. “It’s getting late. It was nice meeting you, Mr. Hillby.”

  “Likewise, my dear,” he told her.

  That weekend, Audrey decided to treat Frances to an outing into town. Her mother refused to partake, but Frances was very excited. She decided to treat her sister to tea and then visit the local bookstore. They had just sat down to tea and Frances was fussing with her napkin and eyeing the surroundings when Henry and Theodocia came to their table.

  “Audrey! My dear! So good to see you,” the older woman said, kissing her cheek in greeting.

  Audrey greeted the woman and glanced behind her to nod in greeting to Henry. “This is my sister, Frances. Francie, this is Mrs. Ryland and her son, Henry Ryland.”

  “Would you care to join us?” Audrey asked cordially. She always liked to spend time with Theodocia, though her son she preferred at a distance.

  Theodocia hesitated. “Are we imposing?”

  “Of course not,” Audrey said warmly. “I wouldn’t ask if you were.”

  They shared a delightful tea with Francie asking numerous questions. Henry remained quiet much of the meal. Frances chatted about their home and life in Kingsdown. After all she had been through, Audrey knew she would be all right. It lightened her heart.

  “If you will excuse me, ladies. I must return to work,” Henry told them. Audrey felt his warm eyes on her for a few seconds before he left.

  “We should be going as well,” Audrey said. “I promised Frances a visit to the bookstore.”

  “You must bring your mother and sister to tea. I’d love to meet her,” Theodocia told her.

  Audrey stood and Frances followed suit. “I will. Very soon.”

  When Audrey returned home and told her mother of their visit into town and meeting the Ryland’s, Augusta frowned. “I’m not sure I like you associating with people of that sort, and I do not approve of you bringing Frances into town without me.”

  Audrey tried to stem her temper. Since her arrival in Norwich, her mother had become more self-isolated, and everything Audrey did she seemed to find fault in.

  “Mother, you must have forgotten. You didn’t want to come into town with us, and I told you Mrs. Ryland is a respectable woman and her son is a solicitor. They are leading members of society here in Norwich,” she explained.

  Augusta wasn’t immediately won over, though. “Are they Christian people?”

  “I’m not entirely sure, but I imagine they must be.”

  “Imagine. And Frances? What example do you set by taking tea with a man you barely know?”

  Audrey sighed. “Mother, he was there but a short time.”

  Her mother sniffed. “That’s as may be.”

  “Mrs. Ryland has invited you to take tea at the grand house. You’ll see then how respectable they are. They’ve a house on the river—”

  Augusta eyed her daughter. “I think not.”

  Audrey knew it was useless to argue with her mother. She seemed to become more and more argumentative, and they would only make each other cross if this continued. “Very well. We’ll leave it.”

  Augusta returned to rocking in her chair. “I saw that figure again, Audrey. Outside. I’m sure it’s a man,” she said suddenly.

  Audrey turned her eyes to her mother. “What figure, Mother? What man?”

  Augusta looked up. “The figure I told you of before. He was walking late at night. With my milk? Remember? I was getting milk. And then I saw him.”

  Her mother’s jumbled words and phrases caused her head to ache. “Yes. I recall.”

  “Well, I saw him again.”

  Audrey frowned. “How do you know it’s the same man?”

  Augusta looked at her daughter as if she were an idiot. “He appeared of the same height on both nights. Do you think there are just so many men wandering the grounds at night that I can’t keep track of them?”

  “I merely meant perhaps it might have been different men doing different errands in the night. I once saw someone walking late at night. It’s possible.”

  “It’s possible. Anything is possible,” Augusta said.

  “I’m going to head to bed. Good night, Mother. We can talk tomorrow.”

  As Audrey climbed the stairs, she hoped her mother would forget about the phantom figure. Her mother was alone too much and was brooding. It was not healthy, and she must find a way to get her to interact more with the outside world.

  She checked in briefly on Francie and saw she was fast asleep. She undressed quickly, and when she had turned out the lamp, she went to the window. She could see the orchards in the low moonlight and the buildings far across. She saw no one about. It was so quiet in the back of the workhouse grounds here, and she was happy to be able to provide a home for her sister and mother.

  Francie was already settling in. She had picked up her studies, and Audrey oversaw her work as her father had once done for her. She slipped into bed and sighed. She would have to continue to be patient with her mother. She was having a hard time adjusting to their new life, and Audrey must give her room. She would not argue or cause problems.

  The next evening, after she had taken Frances back to her room, she stopped by to see Marguerite. She knocked softly on her door, and her friend looked up at her entrance with sad eyes. She had been crying.

  Audrey went to her. “Marguerite! Are you all right?” She knelt down in front of her. “What’s wrong?” Marguerite shook her head but said nothing. “What has happened? Are you ill?”

  Marguerite sniffed. “No. It’s my gentleman caller. My friend Alistair Hillby. You met him. Remember?”

  “Yes. I remember.”

  “He’s dead,” she told her.

  Shock ran through Audrey. “Dead? I just saw him. What did he die of?”

  Marguerite shook her head and looked behind Audrey. “I’m not entirely sure,” she said oddly.

  Audrey frowned. “Not entirely sure?”

  “He told me his coughing hadn’t improved.” Marguerite wiped at her tears. “I gave him some syrup, but it didn’t seem to help.”

  “Perhaps his cough was a symptom of what killed him. Consumption. My father died of it as well,” Audrey said sadly.

  “He told me several times that his coughing wasn’t getting better. He was concerned that someone was trying to kill him,” she whispered.

  “Kill him?” Audrey shook her head. “Who would want to kill that sweet old man?”

  “Who indeed? I’ve been wondering that same thing.”

  “It must have been his imagination. I’ve heard that as people get older, they have fancies such as that. They imagine things that aren’t true,” Audrey told the older woman.

  Marguerite looked back at the door as if watching to see if someone else, someone unseen, might be there listening to them. “Audrey, I’ve heard other people say such things,” she whispered.

  “What things?” Audrey asked, eyes wide.

  “That things aren’t what they appear.”

  Audrey shivered. “What things?”

  She shook her head. “I shouldn’t say anything.”

  Audrey moved to sit beside Marguerite on her bed. “Marguerite, if there’s something not right, you should tell me. I can look into it.”

  “No. I’m repeating things I’ve heard. Nothing I know of is fact.” Marguerite shook her head.

  Audrey paused. “Has whatever you have heard… has it been happening for while?” Marguerite looked away. “Marguerite, you can’t say rash things then. I don’t want you to get in trouble by telling stories.”

  “They aren’t stories!” she said firmly.

  Audrey looked down at the old woman’s hands. “I think you’re tired.
I think you should rest. This has been difficult for you. You lost a friend. I’m sorry for it.”

  “He was a dear man. What did he do that they targeted him?” Marguerite wondered.

  Audrey touched her back. “Do you need anything before I go?” Marguerite shook her head. “Then I’ll say good night.”

  She stood up to go, but Marguerite grabbed her hand. “They aren’t what they seem.”

  Audrey frowned. “Who isn’t?”

  “They seem like one thing, but they’re another.”

  “Who are you speaking of? Staff? Inmates?”

  Marguerite looked over Audrey’s shoulder and then back to her face. “I’m going to rest now.”

  A sense of unease settled over Audrey. “Good night.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Audrey left Marguerite and walked down the long hallway, back to the cottage. She felt sorry for the old woman. She had lived many years on this earth, and while she had lived an exciting life, she was now inside a workhouse. Though her life was not as hard as some, she was still not all there in her mind, and to think that Alistair had been killed was ridiculous.

  There was no reason a harmless old man would be killed. Marguerite must be saddened by the loss so she was trying to unreasonably justify it. Audrey sighed. Nothing seemed to be going well with the people she cared for. She walked along the path and came upon Levi and Joseph playing cards.

  “How goes your evening, countess?” Joseph asked Audrey. He had taken to calling her that as both men agreed she was too educated and lovely to be inside the workhouse.

  “Who’s winning?” she asked.

  “You don’t need to ask,” Levi said sullenly.

  Audrey sighed. “I’m afraid my evening isn’t going so well. I just spoke to Marguerite. Her friend Alistair Hillby died.”

  Joseph blinked in surprise. “Old Hillby died?”

  “You knew him?” Audrey wondered.

  “Sure. He was a lifer. Like Marguerite.”

  “She’s taking it hard,” Audrey said quietly.

  “Well, she would. They were thick as thieves. Have been for years,” Joseph said, and Levi nodded.

  “I am sorry for her. She seems so alone. It’s the kind of sad ending in life you hope you don’t have,” Audrey said, frowning. After a moment, she shook her head. “I’ll say good evening. I have to return home to my mother and sister.”

  She walked the rest of the way until she came to the cottage. Frances was waiting for her when she came up the small walk.

  “Audrey!” she called out to her.

  “Lambkin,” she said, kissing her forehead.

  “I’ve been looking for you. I haven’t seen Mother for ages. I’ve been all alone,” Frances told her sister.

  Audrey frowned. “Really? How long?”

  “Since you dropped me off after class. Mother left right after that.”

  That was strange. “Have you eaten?”

  “Some bread and cheese.”

  “Let me see what else we have,” Audrey said.

  Walking into the larder, she found some eggs and made Frances a quick dish of scrambled eggs. She watched Frances eat, and when she was finished, Audrey told her to wash up and prepare for bed. After putting Frances to bed, she was shocked that her mother still had not arrived. She waited downstairs, going over lesson plans, and finally, after midnight, she heard the sound of the front door open and close.

  “Mother!” Audrey whispered as Augusta came into the room.

  Augusta was dressed in her mourning gown, but her face was smudged with dirt, and her hair looked mussed and uncombed. “Audrey.”

  “Mother, where on earth have you been?”

  Augusta looked at her daughter. “I don’t answer to you. I don’t need to tell you where I’ve been.”

  Her tone took Audrey aback, and for a second, she didn’t know how to respond. “You do. I came home to find Frances had had a scant supper and then you come home after midnight with your hair in disarray and dirt on your face. What is going on?”

  Augusta glared at her daughter. “If you must know, I was watching the buildings.”

  Audrey shook her head. “Watching the buildings? What buildings?”

  “I went into the orchards to discover just what that man is up to. I’m absolutely sure it’s no good. You may not care about what goes on here, but I do. He could be an assassin or some crazed killer inmate from the workhouse.”

  Audrey stared at her, eyes wide with disbelief. “What on earth? And did you see him?”

  Augusta rolled her eyes. “Of course not. It was my first night tracking him. He’s not stupid. I must try again tomorrow.”

  Audrey took a deep breath. “I forbid it.”

  “You forbid it?” Augusta asked.

  “I forbid it. Who do you think you are? I’ll tell you what Master and Matron will think. They’ll move you from this cottage to the workhouse because they’ll think you are an inmate. And not just an inmate, a mental patient,” Audrey told her coldly.

  “Insolent chit!” Augusta’s cheeks flushed red, and raising her hand, she slapped Audrey across the face.

  Despite the sting, Audrey stood her ground. “I forbid you to leave this house after supper, Mother. Do you hear me?”

  Augusta faced her daughter. “And if I refuse?”

  “Then I will tell Matron myself that you are losing your faculties. I’ll tell them for your safety you should be confined.” She said the last word with emphasis.

  Augusta’s eyes flashed. “How dare you! Who do you think you are?”

  “Try me, Mother,” Audrey said. “I swear on my father’s dear memory and my love of him. You just try me and see what happens.”

  Augusta paled and narrowed her eyes. Turning her back on Audrey, she stomped up the stairs to her room.

  Audrey felt her hands shaking, and she sat down upon the sofa. Her mother was becoming odder the longer they were at the cottage. She couldn’t believe her own ears when she spoke of tracking some shadow on the grounds. And staying out after midnight on top of that! She took a deep breath. Perhaps it was more than mere oddities. Maybe her mother was losing her faculties.

  That thought shook her, and she pushed the unpleasant thought from her mind.

  Audrey barely listened to the women at the club discussing their various business as she took a sip of tea. Her mind was ablaze with her last encounter with her mother, and she hoped it would be the last time they discussed the issue. Her mother had to see reason. She was frightened that it might be something more serious with her mother’s mind. The warm fire burned brightly beside her, and she felt herself drifting off.

  When she jerked awake, she felt disoriented. She couldn’t remember where she was. She looked up to see the warm fire burning in the fireplace and Henry Ryland sitting a few feet from her with a book in his lap. She sat up but realized there was a blanket covering her.

  “My mother said you looked very tired,” he told her. “You fell asleep in the meeting, she said. She placed the blanket over you.”

  Audrey licked her lips. “Your mother is too kind.”

  “You’ll forgive me for saying you don’t look well,” Henry told her.

  Audrey looked into his handsome face. “I don’t feel well.”

  “Do you need an ear? I’ll lend you one.”

  She smiled lightly. “Just one? What if I need two?”

  “Then both are at your disposal,” Henry said sincerely.

  She placed the blanket to one side and stared into the fire. “I’m not sure how to even begin to describe it. It all seems too jumbled and strange.”

  He leaned forward. “When did it start?”

  “If I’m honest, it started with my mother coming to Norwich. My little sister had been excited about the change and follows me everywhere. She’s always been a sweet little thing. But my mother—”

  “She has not taken to this life?” he guessed.

  She shook her head. “But it’s more than that. She’s bec
ome strange. I—I’ve never seen her like this. She has these strange ideas, and I can’t seem to persuade her to leave them.”

  Henry frowned. “What strange ideas?”

  Audrey touched her forehead. “She sees things. Says she’s watching out for some man on the grounds outside the cottage. It’s ridiculous. Even if there was someone, he’s obviously about his work. I think she’s angry with me. I brought her here and she doesn’t like the cottage and she doesn’t like being on the workhouse grounds. She wants her old life back. It’s impossible.”

  Henry was silent for a few moments and then said, “Perhaps I can help. I might be able to ask the board if we can—”

  “No,” Audrey said firmly. “There’s to be no discussion. The cottage is perfectly acceptable. More than that. I like it very much, and I’m very grateful for it. I’m only sorry she has become so disagreeable and difficult. I don’t know how to handle her. She’s never been like this before.”

  “Is there anything I can do, Ms. Wakefield? I’ll help you in any way I can.” His warm eyes were on hers.

  “No, Mr. Ryland. You’ve done more than most. I’m obliged to you,” she told him, but he shook his head.

  “You are nothing of the sort. You are not obliged. Everything you have, you’ve earned. I don’t mind saying I was wrong about you. You have proven yourself, and the schoolroom runs more efficiently now than it has in a long time,” he admitted to her.

  Audrey smiled. “Then that’s something good.”

  “It’s true. Master Meacham said he was pleased with the schoolroom being run so well and that’s praise indeed. He values efficiency above all else in the workhouse,” he told her.

  “I’m glad. The children really are learning, though it’s small steps forward, but steps nonetheless,” she commented.

  There was a silence that stretched between them, and the sound of crackling firewood filled the air.

  “I do hope your mother finds her way. It seems to be a burden on you, and that’s unfair. You’ve done so much to find your place and provide for them,” he said sympathetically.

  “I hope the same.” She took a deep breath and glanced towards the door. “I should go.”