Among the Darkness Stirs

by Nicola Italia

  “Certainly. I could get those ledgers for you, but I would like to help you.”

  “Of course,” she said eagerly. “You must. We must do it together.”

  He looked at the sky and the setting sun. “Should we take tea? There’s a charming teahouse nearby.”

  “I’d like that.”

  When she stood, he came to stand by her and took her arm in his. “I’ve enjoyed this outing. It has been a most pleasant afternoon.”

  “You’ve quite chased my blues away.”

  “Quite,” he said.

  Audrey was working inside her schoolroom when the door opened to admit Chaplain Reed. He entered the room in a brisk fashion. “Ms. Wakefield.”

  “Chaplain Reed, what brings you to my little corner of the workhouse?” she asked, setting aside her pencil.

  “I thought I would check on you and the little heathens,” he asked. “How do they fare?”

  Audrey closed her ledger and looked up at him. “I rarely see you except at meals and church on Sunday. You’re very scarce these days.”

  “This flock doesn’t need me, Ms. Wakefield,” he said coldly. “They do what they wish, when they wish. They fear neither God nor the devil, and that’s dangerous.”

  “If it’s true, then yes. But I think they fear many things. They are just more tangible things.”

  The chaplain raised an eyebrow. “Such as?”

  “Being poor. Dying. Disease. Infirmity. Homelessness.” Those things were terrifying.

  “Those are logical things to be afraid of. I’m sure we all fear such things. But a fear of God is what they need. ‘Fear God and give him glory, because the hour of his judgement has come,’” he quoted scripture.

  “I never cared for Revelations myself. It’s a bit doom and gloom,” she retorted.

  “Hmph,” came his response.

  “Chaplain Reed, these people need food and jobs first. God can come later,” Audrey countered.

  He stared at her thoughtfully. “You’re very flippant for a vicar’s daughter.”

  She met his stare. “I think this place has changed me.”

  “Not for the better it seems.” He tutted.

  She held her anger in check. “That’s one point of view.”

  “I notice you spend much time with Mr. Ryland. Our board guardian.”

  “He’s a good friend.”

  “Is he?” He smirked. “She does not ponder the path of life; her ways wander, and she does not know it.”

  “But I tell you that men will have to give account on the day of judgement for every careless word they have spoken,” Audrey returned.

  “Indeed. I bid you a good day, Ms. Wakefield,” he said coolly and departed the room as quickly as he had arrived.

  Audrey placed her papers in proper piles and locked the door behind her. Frances would be playing with the other children in the courtyard so she went in that direction. She was about to turn down the hallway when she saw Matron and the doctor speaking together. They spotted her, and the Matron turned away while the doctor came towards her.

  “The Matron had some business to attend to,” he explained the retreating figure.

  “She’s very busy,” Audrey agreed.

  “And you. We’ve not much time to speak together. You must be the busiest staff at the workhouse,” he said as they walked down the hallway side by side.

  “I do my best. It’s exciting to be with the children. They are like little sponges soaking up what I have to teach. It’s been fascinating to watch their transformation.” She met his gaze.

  He hummed thoughtfully. “I imagine that’s true. Children are delightful. I’ve brought my fair share into the world.”

  “I’ve even managed to teach one of the older girls some French. Though I guess it’s pointless. What will she do with French as a lady’s maid?” She shrugged.

  “No, no, my dear. You think about it the wrong way. True. She might be a lady’s maid now, but by teaching her French, you open her mind to the possibilities,” he said as they entered the courtyard.

  “The possibilities?” Audrey was confused.

  “But, yes! A lady’s maid today, tomorrow she might take up typing or take a secretarial class. French is the beginning. Oui?” he asked her.

  Audrey smiled then. “Oui, doctor.”

  “I must dash. Take care, Ms. Wakefield,” he said and left her alone in the courtyard.

  Audrey thought on his words. French might well be something frivolous to teach the students, but it could open up doorways to something better for the girls and boys.

  Out in the courtyard, the autumn air was brisk, and she saw the children playing, her sister among them. The sight of Frances playing hopscotch did her heart good. She wanted to know that the death of their father and their mother’s strange behavior didn’t upset her. She wanted Frances to have a happy childhood and be a young woman who could do what she wished in life.

  “Miss.” A young boy came up to her and handed her a note. “This was delivered for you.”

  She thanked the boy and recognized Henry’s handwriting. The note said simply, “Bring the diary to the house tonight.”

  A sense of pleasure coursed through her at the thought of spending an evening with the Rylands and their delicious food.

  Chapter Twenty

  Frances and Theodocia played another card game while Audrey and Henry remained at the dining room table, papers scattered about.

  “I managed to get the last four years of inmates,” he said as she pulled the diary from her purse.

  “Excellent,” she said.

  He pulled out several pieces of paper and suggested they transfer all the numbers and initials to it from the diary to make it easier to view. He quickly transposed the lists and then pulled the first volume of inmates to him. “I’ll take this one, you take the next.”

  Audrey did as he bid. “What are we looking for?”

  “The diary has the initials. Look in the inmate ledger for initials that match the ones in the diary. Write the full name next to it.”

  “That could be a huge list!” she said.

  Henry shrugged. “Could be. But that’s all we have now.”

  She heaved a sigh. “It’s a starting point.”

  They both took a ledger and began comparing the initials in the diary to the inmate names and writing them down. They worked quietly side by side until Theodocia joined them.

  “I’m going to have Cook make some hot chocolate for Frances. Would either of you like some? Or coffee, tea?” Theodocia asked.

  “Coffee, Mother. Thank you,” Henry said.

  “You’ll spoil her, Thea,” Audrey said, using the nickname the older woman had told her to use.

  “Nonsense, Audrey,” came the reply. “She’s sweet as pie and needs coddling.”

  “Coffee for me as well. Thank you.”

  Theodocia rang for the parlor maid, who listened to her instructions and turned away. Returning to her card game, she sat with Frances. The young girl looked at the couple engrossed in their work at the dining room table before turning back to Theodocia.

  “He likes her very much, doesn’t he, Thea Dee?” she asked, calling her the nickname she had given Theodocia. “He’s always looking at her.”

  Theodocia looked indulgently at the young girl. “He is always looking at her, isn’t he?”

  “She likes him, too,” Frances remarked.

  “Does she? How can you tell?” Theodocia asked.

  The young girl shrugged. “She smiles a lot when he’s around. She seems happy.”

  Theodocia thought on the simple words. “They both seem happier with the other.”

  Audrey stretched a little and rubbed her neck lightly. Henry watched her movements and tried to drag his thoughts and eyes away from her mouth.

  “I’m almost done,” she said.

  “Me as well. And as you said, it’s quite a list.”

  Together, they had combed through the four inmate volumes and placed the n
ames to those that matched the initials on their respective sheets of paper.

  “Where do we go from here?” she wondered, looking at the long list.

  He paused and glanced at her. “You look tired. Let’s stop for tonight.”

  Audrey pursed her lips. “I am a bit. We should head back to the workhouse.”

  “Why not spend the night? You did before.”

  “No.” Audrey met his eyes and looked away. “We couldn’t. It’s an imposition.”

  He quickly waved away the idea. “That’s ridiculous. I had this house built for guests. And children. I want several.”

  She blushed. “Do you?”

  “Do you?” he countered, secretly hoping she did.

  “I won’t answer that.” She shook her head and looked away from him.

  “Mother!” he called out, knowing how to get Audrey to agree. “It’s too late for Audrey and Frances to set out tonight. They should spend the night, don’t you think?”

  Theodocia looked at the mantel clock. It was after ten. “Of course. Audrey, you and Frances are most welcome to spend the night.”

  “Frances, do you mind? It would save us a trip,” Audrey told her little sister, who shook her head and said she wanted to stay. “Then we will,” she said, meeting Henry’s eyes.

  Henry and Theodocia bid their guests a good night as they mounted the stairs. Henry saw his mother out of the corner of his eye as he moved to the dining room table to collect the papers they had worked on.

  “I thought Della had broken your heart,” she said quietly. “I thought you would take years to recover.”

  “She did. When it happened, I thought I would never care for another woman. God knows I never sought anyone out,” he said honestly. And then he met Audrey, and everything changed.

  “And now Audrey.”

  He turned to face his mother. “I think I’m falling in love with her.”

  “She’s very special. Have you told her how you feel?”

  “We’ve talked around it but never precisely it,” he said awkwardly.

  She patted his shoulder. “For what it matters, I think she would make you an excellent wife. She’s exactly what you need. Intelligent, strong, caring, beautiful. You will do well together.”

  “I think so, too.” He grinned.

  Audrey snuggled into the bed covers and looked across at her sister sleeping beside her. “You know I love you, Lambkin. Ever so much.”

  “I love you ever so,” Frances returned.

  Audrey could hear the fire crackling in the room as she closed her eyes to sleep.

  “Will you marry Henry?” Frances asked. “I like him.”

  “Marry Henry?” Audrey felt a sharp intake as she thought of him. “There’s to be no marriage, Francie. He hasn’t asked me. He has to ask me.”

  Frances shrugged. “He will ask you.”

  “Will he?” Audrey asked, amused. “How do you know that?”

  Frances shifted over to her side. “It’s the way he looks at you.”

  “How does he look at me?”

  “As if you were the last humbug in a bag,” Frances said simply.

  Audrey chuckled. “What? The candy?”

  “Yes.”

  “What does that mean?” Audrey wondered.

  “It’s a hungry look,” Frances said innocently as she yawned and turned away from her.

  Audrey watched her sister drift off to sleep and then turned to lie on her side. She looked past the bed and beyond to the large windows that overlooked the green lawns and the river Henry adored so much. She thought of her sister’s words about marriage and knew Henry liked her. Twice he had kissed her, and though the first time had been a mistake, the second at the concert had been real enough.

  She liked Henry very much. He was the kind of man a woman would be proud to call her husband. He was intelligent and kind, and the time she spent with him was always enjoyable. But there had been no time to think about such things recently. There had been the death of Marguerite and her friend Alistair and now her mother.

  She had hoped Dr. Engle would be able to tell her what was wrong and that her mother could be made whole, but she worried that would not be the case. She stretched, moved out of the bed, and walked the short distance to the windows. The moon hung low in the sky, and the river flowed by peacefully.

  She was about to turn away when she saw Henry. He was smoking a pipe on the lawn, looking up at the house. She touched the windowpane in a gesture to him, and he raised a hand to her in return. When she settled back into bed, she felt a sense of peace. Henry was here, and he was watching over them. She felt safe as she fell asleep.

  The next afternoon, Audrey pored over the names attached to the initials while the children had their recreation time. She massaged her neck as she read the names for the tenth time and then pushed them aside. This was all nonsense. The initials made no sense and the numbers even less. She could view them for the next twenty years and they would make still less sense.

  As she was waiting for the children to return to class, Dr. Beesley entered the room.

  “Dr. Beesley,” she said in greeting.

  “Ms. Wakefield, the door was unlocked so I let myself in,” he explained coming to stand beside her desk. “I wanted to see how you were faring.”

  “I’m well and you are most welcome here. I’m only going over lesson plans and grading,” she explained, waving her hand over the papers that dominated her desk.

  “Morbid lesson plans indeed.” He grinned.

  She frowned. “Morbid? What’s morbid?”

  He shrugged. “Oh. I happened to glance at the writing there.”

  “What writing?” she said, looking down at her desk covered with papers.

  “That writing there.” He pointed.

  “This?” She pulled up the papers, still not understanding. “This is morbid? Why would this be morbid?”

  Dr. Beesley grinned. “Well, to each his own, and I’m sure you have your reasons, but if I’m not mistaken, everyone on that list is dead.”

  “Dead?” Audrey whispered, her stomach bottoming out.

  “That’s why I said morbid. But then I only recognized a few names.”

  Audrey tried to recover quickly. “It’s actually some nonsense I was working on. It’s nothing.”

  He eyed her. “Very well, my dear. I’ll see you at supper.”

  She watched him leave the classroom and felt herself grow cold. The morbid sheets of paper that the doctor had seen on her desk, the names of the dead as he had told her, was the list of initials and names she and Henry had worked on the night before.

  Audrey didn’t want to barge into the Ryland house like a poor relation. In the end, she sent Henry a note asking him to come see her that evening if possible. When she heard the cottage gate creak open, she was relieved that he had finally arrived. When she opened the door, it wasn’t Henry but Joseph on her doorstep.

  “Hello, countess,” Joseph said in greeting.

  “Joseph,” she said, breathless and surprised.

  He gestured to the door. “May I come in?”

  “Of course.” She glanced around, looking past him for Henry, but he was alone.

  He followed her gaze. “Are you expecting someone?”

  She licked her lips. “I am, but please, come in.”

  Joseph entered the drawing room off the foyer. He was dressed simply in trousers, a vest, and a coat. His hair was disheveled.

  “Can I get you some tea?” she asked.

  “No. I’m fine.” He removed his cap and held it lightly in his hands.

  She waited to see what had brought him to her cottage. He had never done so before. “Is there something wrong? Something you need to tell me?”

  Joseph was quiet for a moment and then spoke. “I wanted to make sure you were all right. Your mother as well. I know things have been difficult for you.”

  Audrey felt a surge of gratitude. “That’s kind of you. It has been difficult, but I hope things
will be better in time.”

  He glanced around. “Do you like the cottage? I painted it myself,” he told her proudly.

  That surprised her. “Did you? You never said.”

  He shrugged. “I heard your mother saying some wild things that night at the concert. She was talking about a man. A shadow man. What do you think she meant by that?”

  “I have no idea. I thought she might be losing her faculties,” she admitted honestly.

  He studied her closely in a way that made her squirm a little. “It could be she’s imagining things.”

  Audrey shrugged. “That might be it.”

  “Well, I shouldn’t take up any more of your time. I merely wanted to check on you,” he said kindly.

  “Thank you, Joseph. I appreciate it.”

  “Good night then,” he said, leaving the cottage.

  Audrey was biting on her thumbnail when another knock fell upon the door. She opened it to admit Henry dressed in a dark suit and coat. He placed his Derby hat on the foyer table.

  “Did I see Joseph Caldwell leaving your cottage?” he asked, frowning.

  “Yes. I opened the door thinking it was you and found him on my doorstep,” she told him.

  “Why was he here?” he asked her.

  “He seemed to be concerned about me and my mother.”

  “I see.”

  Audrey stopped. “What? You don’t believe me?”

  “It’s late, and he’s a man visiting a young’s woman home,” he said coldly.

  Audrey crossed her arms. “So he was. So are you.”

  “Was he invited as well?”

  “Are we going to keep going down this line of questioning?” Her eyebrow arched at him.

  “I’m stopping now. I’m an idiot. Do you forgive me?”