She was caught in his gaze. “No.”
Even though he had suspected as much, disappointment still slumped his shoulders. “No, of course not. We must finish the concert. Already we’re late getting back.”
“You’re a bad influence,” she told him.
“I’m not. I have the most honorable intentions where you are concerned. Believe that.”
“Do you?”
“Absolutely.”
“We should get back.” She looked up at him.
Just then they heard a noise along the corridor. Her mother and Theodocia emerged from the box.
“I tell you I saw him,” Augusta was saying loudly as Frances stood behind her mother, eyes large and frightened.
“Mother,” Audrey stepped towards the two women, “what is it?”
“I’m afraid there’s been a bit of a mix-up,” Theodocia tried to explain, but Augusta waved her away.
“There’s no mix-up. I’m not simple. I saw him. As plain as I see you.”
“What is this about? Who did you see, Mother?” Audrey asked, frowning.
“The shadow man. He’s here.”
Chapter Nineteen
Her heart thudded inside her chest as Audrey glanced at her mother and then Theodocia. Theodocia glanced quickly at her son, and Henry stepped in.
“Perhaps we should call it a night. I know I’m exhausted,” he said.
But Augusta would not be swayed. “Audrey! I know you believe me now. We saw him that night. We saw him walking. Let’s go downstairs and confront him. I know it’s him.”
Audrey looked away briefly and tried to stem the various emotions she felt at that moment. Intense anger was quickly followed by shame. Her mother was behaving so loud and crass in a public theater, and she didn’t even know what she had done in the box.
“Mother, come along. We’re going to go home,” she said softly.
“I’m going nowhere,” Augusta said firmly.
Audrey glanced at Henry, and her eyes must have said it all. Henry firmly but kindly took Augusta by the elbow and escorted her down the hallway. When they reached the front of the theater, a light rain was falling. As they waited for their carriage, Theodocia kept Augusta occupied as Henry spoke to Audrey.
“You must have Dr. Engle take her for the trial period,” he said softly.
Audrey sighed. “I know.”
“He’s a good man, Audrey. A good doctor. He’ll not mistreat her,” he told her. “I promise you.”
Audrey looked over at the two older women and saw her mother speaking rapidly while Frances lingered on the steps. Audrey looked up at Henry and then away.
“I’m worried for her. Very worried. I thought she was fine but this… this is different. Now I’m not so sure.” She shook her head.
Their carriage pulled up, and the women got inside. She took Frances beside her and smoothed back her hair. “Are you all right, Lambkin?”
Frances nodded, but her eyes rested on her mother.
“I’m sorry the concert was spoiled. We’ll see another one very soon,” she promised.
In the dark, she watched her mother’s eyes as she looked out the window. Theodocia said very little, which was rare. Henry kept eyeing her and then glancing at the two women across from them.
When they came to the workhouse, Henry helped her out of the carriage. “I’ll make arrangements for Dr. Engle. Is that all right?”
She took a fortifying breath. “Thank you.”
Later that evening, she went to check on Frances and heard what had happened when she and Henry had been absent.
Her mother had been excited about the concert and consumed two glasses of champagne. When they returned to the box, she had been scanning the audience below, and the two older ladies had played a game. They guessed what each person did for a living and made outrageous claims. One man was in the circus. Another woman owned half of America and was actually a countess.
Then her mother had spotted someone in the crowd, and her face had grown serious. She sucked in her breath and said that man was the shadow man. Theodocia knew what she was speaking about, as she had heard the tale from Henry.
But the shadow man had frightened Frances, who asked her mother to stop teasing her. Augusta had not stopped and had become shriller so that the box next to them stared at her.
Theodocia had tried to placate Augusta and asked if she wanted to get some air, which had annoyed her. Augusta became irritated and left the box at that point, which was when Audrey and Henry came into the story.
“I’m sorry, Francie. Sorry that you had to watch that. Mother’s not feeling well. That’s all. We’re going to get her better,” Audrey told her.
“I’m glad. I didn’t like her tonight. Her eyes scared me,” Frances admitted.
Audrey tilted her head. “Her eyes?”
“They were wild.”
“Shhh,” Audrey said. “No more talk of this. As I said, we’ll get her better. You don’t worry about this. All right?”
When Audrey closed the door, she debated whether to go to her mother’s room or not. She paused outside the room with her hand on the knob. Should she enter? She had thought her mother was going mad, then she had seen the shadow man for herself, but what did that prove? A man walking about the workhouse grounds. What was suspicious about that?
Now her mother saw the shadow man at a concert and had made such a fuss that Theodocia and Henry had been alarmed. Frances had called her eyes wild. As Audrey stood outside in the hallway, about to turn the knob to her mother’s door, she realized she was afraid of her mother.
She didn’t want to confront her. She was afraid of what she might find. Would her mother be sitting beside the window in her nightgown, looking for the shadow man? And when Audrey entered, would she turn those eyes towards her? Audrey shivered. She couldn’t face her. Not tonight.
She turned towards her own room and, once inside, leaned against the door. Then she did something she had never done in her entire life. She turned the lock on the door so no one could enter while she was sleeping.
The next morning, Dr. Engle sent a nurse to pick Augusta up. Augusta seemed to have anticipated it and had a small bag packed for the trip. She looked briefly at her eldest daughter and left without a word.
Audrey explained to Frances that their mother was to be looked at by a very nice doctor who would make her better. The young girl did not seem worried, as she trusted Audrey completely. They hurried to the classroom for the day’s events, and everything was fine until they went for their midday meal.
Normally, she sat with the other staff while she ate. She would sit with Joseph and Levi and listen to their gossip. When Frances came to live with her, she and her sister would sit away from the other staff and eat alone. Today, as they joined the staff and took their seats at the end of the table, a hush fell upon everyone.
She looked down the long table and saw the same people she always saw. Matron looking very stern and serious while Master read the Bible between bites. The chaplain stared at her from over his spectacles as if he were condemning her, and the quirky doctor looked in her direction. She saw Levi and Joseph at the end of the table speaking and glancing in her direction.
She had the sense that she had something to do with the hush that had fallen over the staff.
She looked across at Frances, but she was oblivious. She had already begun to eat her cooked meat and potatoes. Audrey picked at her own food and then blanched. Had someone at the concert seen her with Henry? Had they seen their exchange in the dark hallway? She blushed lightly, turning her head away. She could still feel his arms encircling her as his mouth touched hers. She felt dizzy even thinking about it now.
She watched as Matron finished everything on her plate and then pushed it away from her and stood up. She looked once at Audrey, narrowed her eyes, and then left the dining hall. The chaplain, who she rarely interacted with, came near her and rested his hand on her shoulder.
“I shall pray for you,” he said before leavi
ng.
Dear God! Someone had seen her and Henry in the hallway, and now she was the gossip on all their tongues. She felt sick.
“I’m going to go in the yard and play,” Frances told her, and she watched her sister leave.
A minute later Joseph joined her. “Countess,” he said as he sat across from her.
“Hello, Joseph.”
“The mood is not so light here,” he told her.
“Am I who everyone is talking about?” she asked, and he shrugged. Audrey glanced at those remaining and found herself growing angry. What right did they have to gossip about her and Henry? It was a kiss, nothing more.
“I won’t lie and sugar coat it,” he told her. “I’m sorry for you. Truly.”
“Sorry for me? Why are you sorry for me?” she said indignantly.
He shook his head. “I was there. I saw it firsthand. It wasn’t good.”
Audrey’s heart dropped. “You saw it? You were there?”
“Yes. I was in the audience. I thought you saw me.”
“I did.”
“She made quite the scene. I felt bad for old Ryland. She kept her wits about her, but your mother was—”
“My mother?” Audrey asked and then it came to her. Everyone wasn’t talking about a kiss. Joseph had witnessed the scene with her mother and blabbed about it to everyone. “Did you need to tell everyone, Joseph? That’s not a good friend.”
He was quiet for a moment and then sat back. “I didn’t tell anyone, Audrey. Most of the staff were there. Everyone saw her outburst.”
“The staff was there?” she whispered, horrified.
“I think everyone was there.”
“I’m sorry. Sorry for thinking you had told everyone about it.”
She was relieved that she and Henry were not the subject everyone was talking about. But the more she thought about it, the more embarrassed she became. It must have been much worse than Frances had told her. After all, a young girl probably thought the scene with her mother had been silly and odd. To everyone else, it had been an older woman making a scene over some phantom while Theodocia had to calm her down.
“Was… was it very bad?” Audrey asked him, afraid of the answer.
Joseph met her eyes. “I only saw the latter half of it. She was making a scene in the box and becoming very loud. I saw Mrs. Ryland escort her out of the box.”
Audrey swallowed hard. “And everyone here saw it?”
Joseph looked at her with sympathy. “Many of the staff enjoy the concerts at the theater. We get the cheap seats and attend when we can. Most of us were there, except Matron. She doesn’t think the theater is godly.”
Audrey’s chest suddenly felt tight. She could not bear the stares any longer. “I should get back to the classroom.”
Joseph touched her arm as they both stood. “You’ve nothing to be ashamed of. Everyone goes through spells. They’ll have something else to talk of by tomorrow.”
As Audrey passed by the rest of the staff, Matron was leaving, but she saw Audrey coming her way and stopped. “Ms. Wakefield.”
“Matron,” she said in return.
“A moment,” Matron said, tilting her head so that she would stay back. Audrey waited to see what the woman would say. “I understand there was some commotion at the theater last night.”
“Yes.”
“Some upstart with your mother? Is she unwell?”
“She might be. I’m having a doctor look at her.” Audrey didn’t want to be having this conversation.
Matron eyed her. “Hmmm. That is good. Perhaps your mother is becoming senile. I’ve seen it happen with older patients.”
Audrey refused to accept that. “I’ll wait to see what the doctor says.”
Matron seemed to watch Audrey for some sign, but none came. She turned and then abruptly left her.
Later that evening, Frances was reading and Audrey was working on her lesson plans for her students. As she had been in the classroom now for some time, she knew her students’ levels and wanted to cluster them together. She hoped they would learn together and help each other and advance to the next level. She put the children’s initials down and made a circle. She stretched her arms out and looked over at Frances, who was reading before the fire.
She turned back to the clusters and stared down at the circles and the initials. The initials reminded her of those in Marguerite’s diary. She was surer than ever that the initials were those of inmates, but the numbers baffled her. She looked at the note from Theodocia inviting her and her sister to supper tomorrow and then looked back at her sister.
She had wanted the workhouse and this cottage to be a successful new beginning for her sister and mother, but instead, her mother seemed to be unraveling before her eyes. Audrey had been left with no other course but to admit her to the doctor for an evaluation. She felt frustrated and alone, and there was only one thought in her head, one that surprised her greatly.
She wanted to sit with Henry and talk to him. She wanted to unburden her troubles and feel his strength as he supported her. She had come to rely on him and his friendship.
The following evening, they had a comfortable supper with the Rylands. Later, after the meal, they enjoyed coffee and brandy, and the foursome played the Old Maid card game and called the loser an “old maid.”
Henry’s eyes followed Audrey whenever she moved about the room, and when Theodocia took Frances outside to show her the river, the couple lingered behind, saying very little but enjoying each other’s company. They made plans the next day to visit sights in the city, and Theodocia offered to watch Frances.
The next afternoon was a cool autumn Saturday. Henry took Audrey to visit the Plantation Gardens in Norwich. It was a garden hidden away from the bustle of the city that he thought she would enjoy. Audrey took in the green lawns and plants that decorated the garden and the birds singing in the trees.
“Do you like it? I thought you would,” he said as they walked side by side through the gardens.
She glanced up at him. “I do very much. It was kind of you to think of me.”
“I think of you often, Audrey.”
“Do you?” she asked him honestly, without any coyness.
“Yes. I would say you’ve bewitched me, but I don’t believe in witches.”
She pondered that for a moment. “What do you believe in?”
“The law. Right and wrong. The good in people.”
“And me?” she wondered.
“Without a doubt,” he said simply.
They continued to walk through the gardens.
“Henry Trevor opened a business here in Norwich, and in 1855, he bought the lease of an old chalk quarry and started creating a picturesque garden,” he explained as they moved through the woodland walkways, the flower beds, and the Italianate terrace.
“It is very picturesque,” Audrey agreed.
“He built a Gothic fountain in 1857,” Henry explained.
“Is he still alive?” she asked.
“He is. I see him occasionally about town,” he told her.
Audrey walked along the water features and rockeries and admired the simple beauty of it all. “I’m glad you took me here. Glad you asked your mother to watch Frances,” Audrey said. “It feels good to be out and away from the workhouse. My job is rewarding but tiring at times. And with everything going on,” she began but he stopped her.
“You’ve been through too much Audrey. I thought a simple break would be good for you,” He told her.
“The green walkways remind me a little of the country around Kent,” she said, admiring the foliage.
She enjoyed this quiet time spent with Henry. She didn’t want to think about her ailing mother or the responsibility of the workhouse. She wanted to be as they were now. Two people together admiring the gardens with nothing else on their minds. They continued to admire the gardens and stopped along the way to sit upon a bench.
“The first time we met was in a park, and we sat on a bench much lik
e this one to discuss the future,” he said.
“I remember,” she said.
Moments ticked by in silence.
“Would you… tell me what your mother might have said about the night at the concert?” Audrey hesitated. “I’m sure you said something, and I’d like to hear it. I honestly thought Mother was doing better and then—”
“I have spoken to my mother about that night. They returned to the box after a glass of champagne. I think your mother had two when the lights dimmed. Your mother and mine were chatting away, looking out over the audience, and suddenly she became quite agitated. She told my mother she saw him. When my mother asked who, she said the shadow man. She said he was in the audience and that he was up to no good. She had seen him on the workhouse grounds many nights, but no one believed her, not even her own daughter.”
Audrey shook her head. It was disturbing to hear how her mother had acted that night in the concert. A woman she had known her entire life, a woman who had always behaved so proper. She had long been the vicar’s wife with never a hair out of place, and now she had begun a descent into madness. It shook Audrey to the core. It frightened her more than she would ever care to voice aloud.
“Then she sprang up and said she would confront the man and make everyone believe the truth, especially you. That was when my mother interceded and the rest you know,” Henry finished.
“I don’t know, Henry. It’s possible there is a man wandering the grounds at night. Certainly, I’ve seen a man myself once. But why does she suddenly think this one man is up to no good? Intuition? Has she seen something else that she’s not told us that is dangerous or frightening?” She shook her head.
Henry shrugged. “You would know more about that than I.”
Audrey bit her lip. “Maybe this whole thing with my father’s death has caused her to snap. He was her whole world.”
“And she’s getting older. It does happen, Audrey,” he pointed out.
“I hope the doctor can give us some good news on that point.” She paused and then told him, “On another note, I was doing some work for the classroom. I am certain that the initials in the diary are people’s initials. I wondered if we might be able to pull the records for the past five years of the inmates in the workhouse and compare them. I know that’s a great deal of people, but it’s a start.”
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