Among the Darkness Stirs

by Nicola Italia

  They stood up, and he walked her to the foyer.

  “My mother is having a dinner party at the end of next week. She wanted to invite you personally but has retired to bed. She wanted me to invite you in her stead,” Henry explained.

  “Let her know I’d be delighted to attend. Is there anyone there I’ll know?” she wondered.

  “Mostly women from the club, their husbands. People in town,” he said absently.

  “I look forward to it. Please tell her thank you for me.”

  “Would you like me to see you home?” he asked, a hopeful tone in his question.

  “No. Thank you. I can manage.”

  “I’ll see you next week then.”

  “Good night,” she said softly.

  Henry watched her leave in the carriage and closed the door softly. He had not stopped thinking about their time spent by the river and the night he had confused her with a ghost. They had never really discussed the encounter except briefly, and now he learned she was having difficulties with her mother.

  He had not met the woman, but he knew what Audrey was like. She was a unique woman who was strong and independent, and he imagined her mother was nothing like that. He had come home to a quiet house that evening, and his mother had hushed him the moment he had entered the foyer.

  “Ms. Wakefield is asleep on the sofa,” she had told him.

  Henry had walked into the parlor to see Audrey asleep on the couch underneath a blanket. “Why is she asleep?”

  Theodocia shrugged. “I don’t think things are going well with her. At home. She is having some concerns with her mother.”

  Henry watched the firelight play across Audrey’s face and sighed.

  “Would you be a dear and sit with her?” she asked her son.

  “Of course,” he said too quickly.

  “I’m tired and am going to bed.”

  He heard his mother climbing the stairs. Suddenly, he was alone with Audrey. He took a book from the table without caring what it was and sat upon the chair opposite the sofa to read.

  He didn’t read a word. Instead, he watched Audrey and her easy breathing as she slept. The rise and fall of her chest beneath the blanket and the eyelashes sweeping down upon her cheeks. She seemed to be sleeping fitfully, and he ached to run his palm across her cheek and feel the satin of her flesh.

  He had made a stupid mistake in kissing her that night when he had thought she was a ghost, but he was not sorry he had done it. If anything, he had wanted much more, but that was not possible.

  Now that he knew what a difficult time she was having with her mother, he wanted to help her. But he knew she would not allow it. She would handle it on her own as she did most things, but he wanted to share her burdens. He hoped for her family’s sake that it was resolved soon enough.

  Audrey put the finishing touches on her hair, added a bit of perfume to her wrists and neck, and surveyed herself in the mirror. She looked presentable enough for Mrs. Ryland’s dinner party. She picked up her gloves and purse in one hand and exited the room.

  “Audrey,” her mother called to her from the front parlor.

  “Yes, Mother,” she asked, following the sound of her mother’s voice

  “Where are you going to?” she wondered.

  “I told you earlier in the week and reminded you this morning. I was invited to a dinner party with Mrs. Ryland.”

  “Mrs. Ryland?” Augusta questioned.

  “Yes. She’s the mother of Mr. Henry Ryland, one of the Board of Guardians.”

  Augusta snorted. “I don’t approve of you going out. You are still in mourning.”

  Audrey sighed. “It’s a small dinner party within her home. It’s perfectly respectable.”

  “It’s disrespectful,” her mother said in disagreement.

  “I’m not going into society, Mother. It’s a small dinner party,” Audrey said, pulling on her gloves.

  Augusta’s lips thinned into a stubborn line. “It’s disrespectful to your father’s memory.”

  “It’s not. Why don’t you come with me? Theodocia wouldn’t mind. I would like you to come with me. You are inside all the time.”

  Augusta shot her a look. “I’ll do nothing of the sort. Besides who would stay with Frances? I must see to her care.”

  Audrey raised an eyebrow. At least they agreed on one matter. “Please do. She needs you to look after her.”

  Augusta turned her head away from her. “How can a daughter be so disregarding? Her father’s dead, and she attends a party.”

  Audrey bit her lip at the sting the words caused. “I’ll be home soon enough.”

  Audrey felt a slight headache when she entered the carriage that had been sent for her. Mrs. Ryland was always thoughtful. She cast a backward glance at the little cottage and then sat back amongst the cushions. She would enjoy herself. She would not allow her mother’s vicious tongue to ruin the night.

  “Audrey. My dear!” Theodocia said when she entered the foyer. “A sight for sore eyes.” She kissed Audrey on both cheeks. “Most women look hideous in black, but you look like a tragic Greek figure.”

  “Only tragic Greek? What of Roman?” Audrey asked, and Theodocia laughed lightly.

  “Help yourself to some punch and food,” she said, leading her to the buffet table laden with decorations and caviar sandwiches, devilled oysters, creamed sweetbreads, cold boned turkey, lettuce salad, and cheese. There was a claret punch made of claret, sherry, dices of cucumber, mint, lemon, orange, and other fruits served in the glass punch bowl.

  “Everything looks delicious,” Audrey remarked.

  “We’re doing things differently today,” she explained. “Help yourself to whatever you like and then take it to the dining room. Everyone’s name is written on their place.”

  Audrey helped herself a sandwich, sweetbread, turkey, salad, and cheese and moved into the next room. The dining room was spacious with a long table set with crystal glasses, silver utensils, and jellies.

  The gaslights hissed lowly in the room as Audrey moved about the table to find her name. The table was decorated brightly with pink and white flowers and candles. She soon found her name and placed her plate upon it. She took a sip of the punch she had poured herself and sat down.

  She saw Della and Nanette Keene enter the room. Della looked lovely in a deep green gown while Nanette wore a dark shade of purple. Della eyed her strangely.

  “Ms. Wakefield.”

  Audrey looked up to see Henry standing beside her. He looked handsome in a dark suit with a smile on his face. She remembered those sensuous lips upon hers and felt her cheeks grow warm. “Mr. Ryland.”

  He took the seat next to her, his name on the plate before him. Had he asked his mother to place them side by side? she wondered.

  “I’m glad you were able to accept the invitation.”

  “I enjoy your mother’s company,” she told Henry truthfully. “She has been welcoming and kind when I had no friends here.”

  Henry smiled.

  “Why do you smile?”

  “It seems you two are kindred spirits. She says the same of you. She’s been impressed with you from the start. She knows that you uprooted yourself to come to an unknown place and take a job you had never held before.”

  “She shouldn’t be too impressed,” Audrey said dismissively. “All of that, I did out of necessity. With your help,” she added.

  Henry’s eyes flickered over her face. “You must not give me too much credit. As I’ve told you before, I merely opened the door. Everything else was you.”

  “Was it?” She met his eyes, and under the candlelight, she could almost forget where they were and instead imagined them both lying on the grass with thoughts of Anningan chasing Malina.

  “I—” she began until a small clearing of the throat caught both of their attention, and they turned to see Nanette Keene standing before them.

  “Nanette,” he acknowledged the older woman.

  Nanette looked at them both coldly. �
�Our little teacher has been invited to the soiree. So generous of dear Thea.”

  “Yes. She’s very generous,” Audrey agreed. “If I’m very good and I don’t eat too much, she may not whip me after supper.”

  Henry stifled a laugh.

  Nanette looked put out. “Really!” she said before moving away from the couple.

  Henry smiled wildly. “My mother was right about you. Your forthcoming way is a breath of fresh air here. They need it.”

  Audrey clucked her tongue. “I don’t usually go out of my way to be rude. But I can tell she doesn’t like me.”

  Henry rolled his eyes. “Naturally.”

  “Naturally?” she asked.

  Henry paused. “She still hopes I will reconcile with Della. It’s out of the question, but when she sees me with you, I think she knows it’s over.”

  “Well, you aren’t with me,” she said softly.

  He remained silent as she picked at her food. “There’s a concert next week. It’s at the Theatre Royal.”

  She glanced at him. “What are they playing?”

  “Chopin. The Nocturnes.”

  Audrey felt a slight pull inside her chest. “My father loved The Nocturnes.”

  “Accompany me,” he said easily.

  Audrey shook her head. “I can’t.”

  “Mourning allows a musical or concert.”

  “I never understood why,” she said. “Music lifts the soul. I always thought mourning should be deep and serious.”

  “If it makes you feel better, I’ll ask my mother to attend as well. She’ll be a chaperone for us.” He gave her a pointed look and added teasingly, “Well, for me. I don’t trust you.”

  Audrey smiled. “Really. I can’t.”

  Henry watched her for a moment. “If you keep saying no, I might think you are serious.”

  “I am serious.”

  “Think on it. If you change your mind, it will be next Saturday. You can tell the box office you are my guest. I’ll leave word.”

  “I’ll think on it.”

  She looked across the table and saw Della watching her with cold eyes, but Audrey did her best to ignore her. As more people joined the table, she was brought into a conversation about the suffragette movement by the lady seated next to her.

  When supper was finally cleared, several people went into the drawing room to play cards, and Henry disappeared. Della took the moment to approach Audrey.

  “Ms. Wakefield.”

  “Ms. Keene,” she returned.

  Della studied her a moment before speaking. “I know we’ve not spoken and I’m afraid my mother has given you the wrong impression.”

  Audrey kept her face blank. “Has she?”

  “She seems intent on trying to be rude to you.”

  “I can stand up for myself,” Audrey said.

  “I’m sure you can.” Della took a deep breath. “I wanted to let you know that I’ve always loved Henry. And he’s always loved me. I made a mistake and I regret it, but I’ll wait as long as it takes for him to return to me.”

  “And if he never does?”

  Della shrugged. “You’re beautiful. And intelligent. I’ve heard of you. But you don’t have the one thing that I do, which is why he will return to me.”

  Audrey raised an eyebrow. “What is the one thing?”

  “History. A past. We understand each other. Do you know he purchased this house for me? Well, the land anyway. He had this home built for me. That kind of attachment doesn’t disappear overnight,” Della said smoothly.

  “Thank you for clarifying things for me. Henry has been good to me. He helped me obtain the position at the workhouse. I’m grateful to him for that. Beyond that, there is nothing between us.” Even as Audrey said the words, she could see so clearly Henry’s mouth touching hers that night in this same house.

  “Is that so? Then why does he look at you the way he does?” Della stared at her pointedly.

  Audrey swallowed lightly. How did Henry look at her? Instead, she said, “If that’s true, then why do you want a man who looks at other women?”

  Della shrugged. “I made a mistake. He’s rebelling. In the end, I’ll be mistress of this beautiful house, and you’ll still be in the schoolroom. You shouldn’t waste your time. You’re out of your depth. Go back to the schoolroom where you belong.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Henry found Audrey a short time later sitting before the fireplace, gazing into its red and orange colors. “It’s getting late. Most of the guests are gone,” he said. “Let me see you home.”

  Audrey’s first instinct had been to refuse, but after the conversation with Della that made her feel like dirt under her boot, she accepted his offer. “Thank you. Yes.”

  “Why did you change your mind?” he asked suddenly.

  “I’ve already said no to you once tonight. I suppose I thought it would be a change to say yes.”

  His eyes held hers. “I’m glad. I’ll call for the carriage.”

  As the carriage bounced along to the workhouse, Henry sat across from her, studying her face. “I saw you speaking with Della. Did she upset you?”

  “No.” She shook her head.

  “Are you sure?” He didn’t sound convinced.

  Audrey exhaled. “She and her mother just like to remind me of my place, which I know all too well. I know where I live. I know where I work. And beyond dealing with you as a board guardian, my place is not beside you.”

  His expression didn’t change. “Is that what she said?”

  “Yes.” Their eyes met.

  “I’m sorry. She had no right.”

  Audrey waved away his apology. “She’s jealous. She sees me speaking to you and doesn’t like it so she lashes out. She’s like the children in the workhouse. She has a toy, and she wants it all to herself.”

  “Still.”

  “She hopes to win you back. She really needn’t have bothered to speak to me on the subject. She doesn’t realize there’s nothing between us.” She said the last word softly.

  “Isn’t there?” he said softly.

  She met his gaze. “Is there?”

  The carriage slowed, and he offered to walk her to her cottage.

  “It’s not necessary—”

  He interrupted her before she could turn him down. “Remember? You said no once already.”

  She smiled lightly. “So, I did.”

  They walked quietly together side by side, but as they came closer to the cottage, she saw it was plunged in darkness. It wasn’t that late. She had heard the clock strike ten before she left the Ryland house.

  “That’s odd.” She hesitated. “My mother would usually still be up waiting for me, but there are no lights burning.”

  Henry frowned. “Would you like me to wait?”

  Audrey hesitated and then decided it would probably be for the best. “Please.”

  Audrey stepped inside the cottage, and a stillness filled the air. She was being silly. She was being overly worried. Nothing was wrong. Everyone had retired to bed. She went upstairs to check on Frances and found her sister sound asleep.

  She knocked lightly on her mother’s door and entered. The bed was empty. Where was she?

  She walked down the stairs and tried to think and then recalled. The man. The phantom man her mother was obsessed with. She had left to look for him on the workhouse grounds. It couldn’t be! She had told her not to do it.

  “Is everything all right?” Henry asked, his face twisted with concern.

  “I’m—I’m not sure,” she said when she came outside the cottage to stand in the small garden.

  “What’s wrong?”

  Audrey bit her lip. “My sister’s asleep, but my mother isn’t inside.”

  “Isn’t inside? Where would she have gone?” He glanced around as if to see her hiding somewhere.

  “I think I know where she might be,” Audrey told him, but she was suddenly embarrassed he was there. “I’ll be fine now. You can go home. I’ll find her.�
��

  Henry wasn’t to be dismissed so easily. “Nonsense. I’m not leaving you alone in the dark. We’ll find her together. Where do you think she is?”

  She hesitated. “We should check the orchards and thereabouts.”

  Audrey walked alongside Henry as they made their way towards the orchards. At night, the trees looked skeletal and strange, and she hoped not to find her mother among them. She stumbled once along the way, and Henry helped her right herself. Her mind churned with the possibilities. Was she lying in wait among the trees for a ghost? Or had she just taken a stroll and Audrey was worried for nothing?

  “I’m sorry about this. I don’t know what she’s thinking,” Audrey murmured.

  Henry shook his head. “Don’t be sorry. We’ll find her. It’s not your fault. I’m happy I’m here to help you.”

  As they moved along the line of trees, she could feel the cool air surrounding them, and she shivered. Her mother couldn’t be out here. As she turned down another line of trees, she saw a figure before them. The figure looked awkward, as if they were almost a part of the tree, with arms stretched out like an appendage of the tree.

  She felt dizzy. Was that her mother? No. It was an inmate who had left the building and was wandering the grounds, lost. The figure was very still until suddenly, it got on its haunches almost like an animal. The figure crouched in the dirt at the bottom of the tree, looking ready to pounce.

  “Henry,” she whispered, clutching at his sleeve.

  Trembling, she stood horrified at seeing her mother crouched in the dirt. She felt a rush of goose-pimples break out along her arm as she stared ahead of her. She didn’t want to move. She didn’t want to take one step towards that monstrous figure she knew was her mother.

  Henry seemed to sense her thoughts. “I’ll go. If she lashes out, I can contain her,” he said simply. “Stay here.”

  She watched as Henry walked resolutely towards Augusta. When he came within a decent distance, he called her name. She swung up at the sound of his voice with an, “Ah ha! I knew it!”

  She swung a piece of rope towards him, but Henry easily avoided her trap and caught her around the waist.