by Carole Gill
Simon looked chastised. “I am sorry.”
I gently admonished him. “You have an excellent imagination, Simon but I am certain such things do not come alive.”
He didn’t say anything. Ada spoke for him. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it? I love this statue. I always have.”
Simon smirked. “You didn’t always like it when it flew Ada, don’t you remember?”
Ada’s lower lip trembled and she looked like she was about to cry. I felt awful. “Ada please, Simon didn’t mean to upset you!”
I thought I was making peace but there was something going on that I didn’t understand. Simon, I was beginning to understand, had this way of getting at Ada by saying strange things that were upsetting to her.
I was so new; I thought I’d better mind what I said and tread carefully, but happily the moment passed and Ada was staring at the moors. “What do you think of the views, Miss Baines? Your room faces them, you know.”
“Yes, I know,” I said as I gazed at them. They were certainly dramatic looking with their rocky mounts and rough terrain. Not my absolute favorite sight but I did want to say something positive. “I think it’s remarkable.”
“You should see it in July when the heather blooms. It looks like a carpet of purple, and it’s just gorgeous.”
“I imagine it is. I shall look forward to that.” I continued to look and found it really was beautiful. Sheep dotted the land from distant farms, most of which I could barely make out.
“Do you know any of the farmers… I mean do your parents?”
Ada shook her head. “No, but there are two ladies who live at the Grange, that’s on the other side of Egton. We like to go there sometimes. They love us!”“Do they, indeed, how nice!”
Simon nodded. “You can walk to town across the moors, you know. Ada and I will show you, Miss Baines. It just can be very dangerous though. There is quicksand and it is quite impossible sometimes to tell where it is.” I think I must have looked horrified because Simon added, “Yes, it is dangerous like most things if you don’t know what to do.”
“I shall be very careful!”
“Ada and I pick heather there, just as we do Mama’s herbs.”
Ada shot Simon a look. Then she looked at me and smiled. “Mama has a wonderful herb garden. She makes poultices and things. She’s quite brilliant really.”
“Can you show me?”
Ada took my hand. “It’s over there, under the oaks, near Papa’s greenhouse.”
“Oh, how nice, a greenhouse.”
“Oh yes, Ada replied. “Papa is very clever and that is why he can grow anything all year round. Some of the plants though are irritating to the skin.”
“Are they indeed?”
Ada nodded. “There are special gloves you must wear if you should ever—”
“Be foolish enough to want to touch the herbs.” Simon interjected, adding, “Of course the sap is worse!”
Ada whirled around when he said that. She didn’t say anything, only glowered at him.
Just then someone called out. I barely heard it but the children knew at once. “It’s Mrs. Sternwood.” Ada said. “She probably wants to tell you something.”
There she was, old sour puss herself. I made certain to smile pleasantly as I turned toward her and hoped for a miracle. “Yes, Mrs. Sternwood?”
“Dinner will be at seven, Miss Baines.”
I thanked her. As soon as she walked away Ada tugged at my skirts. “Miss, I have the most wonderful idea! Simon and I should like to show you something on the moors, something we haven’t yet told you about!”
I tried to beg off but it was no good. “Please, Miss. It will be light for some time yet.”
“Very well,” I said. “We shall go after dinner.”
*
The children and I dined alone. Mrs. Darton and Dr. Bannion had both left to go to Manchester. They were meeting Mr. Darton to settle some business.
We were served rabbit stew, though they only picked at theirs, much preferring a meat pudding which Molly served, quite a nice pudding if a bit rich. I understood it was their favorite. “Well you shall eat it then, by all means. The rabbit is fine with me,” I said.
Molly smiled. She seemed friendlier. The children told me she and her husband took their meals at the oddest time.
Unfortunately, that was not the case with Mrs. Sternwood for she eventually joined us.
What a dour looking woman. I did try to be pleasant to her but it was hopeless. Whatever I said was answered with one or two words.
The worst thing was her studying me and looking away the moment I looked up.
We had apple crumble for dessert which the children and I liked. The strangest thing was the tea. “It is not to everyone’s liking,” Mrs. Sternwood said. “Some say it is an acquired taste. But we drink it. Perhaps you might like to try it.”
I did, and nearly spat it out. It was foul.
Mrs. Sternwood smiled. “Yes, it is what they call a natural remedy for various complaints.”
Ada nodded. “It makes us feel better!”
I was surprised at how sharply Mrs. Sternwood looked at her then, as if she didn’t approve of what she said.
I was pleased she had at least spoken to me although she didn’t speak after nor did she have anything to say when I told her the children and I were going out for a stroll.
*
The air was still and somewhat warm. Low clouds hugged the horizon. There was thunder too from somewhere far away. I would have preferred to see the moors in the sunshine, for the moody atmosphere made it look grimly forbidding. Yet I didn’t wish to spoil the children’s fun.
“When you walk to town, go along through there—you see at the bottom of that cliff, there’s an old footpath there—too, you can’t miss it.”
I made a mental note of it, although I didn’t know when I might go.
The children both held onto me. “Mind your step.”
I listened, as they had already frightened me as to the moor’s dangerous conditions.
“And the weather changes so quickly, too.” Simon’s voice was grave. “Sometimes an entire herd of sheep have been known to perish!”
Ada shook her head. “Not so many as that, Simon; don’t be such a liar!”
Simon looked angry. “It’s true, I know it is so.”
“Well,” I said. “Whether it is or isn’t, I’m certain I shall be very careful where I tread.”
Each of them, it seemed to me, was vying with the other for my attention. Ada pointed out rocks and brush and Simon spoke of yet more doom and gloom.
Suddenly, they began to pull me forward. “This is the most fantastic thing you will ever see! Oh do hurry, Miss Baines!” Ada was most impatient.
Simon tapped her. “She will see it in her own good time.”
“What is it, children? What do you wish me to see?”
They exchanged mysterious looks to further dramatize the situation.
“Yonder, Miss! Do you want to see the ancient stone of legend?”
“What legend is that, Simon?”
Ada spoke up. “The legend of Blackstone Moor!”
They began to drag me then toward a rocky mount. “Just in here.”
I was led through a narrow crevice. It quite reminded me of Stonehenge. I wondered what it could be and began to grow excited, too.
Suddenly we stopped as Simon pointed at a large flat rock. “There, that’s it!”
It looked like a ledge that had been deliberately laid down. I went to touch it but Ada warned me. “Touch it only if you dare!”
“I dare!” I cried. The surface was far smoother than I would have imagined.
“See how black it is, Miss?”
“Quite black,” I agreed.
Simon nodded. “It’s as black as the eternal night! And do you know why it’s black, Miss Baines? It’s black with blood!”
“Simon!”
“Yes, truly! It has blackened with blood and gore and innards
and guts and things that soaked into the stone!”
“What a thing to say! Where did you hear such things?”
“I just know! Ada and I both know!”
I drew him aside. “Simon,” I chided. “You should know better. This is not something either of you should think about, but it’s worse for Ada since she’s younger than you. You ought to know that.”
He looked down. “I suppose, but Ada’s older than you think!”
“Is she indeed, well I don’t think it appropriate, alright?”
“Yes, Miss Baines.”
“I don’t think it’s a subject for children. Besides, it’s probably not true anyway.”
He was agreeing with me, yet there appeared across his face the most quizzical look. “But there were human sacrifices practiced on these moors once and all manner of dark rites, too. Many people died here.”
This was making me feel sick.
“Who told you this?”
“No one.”
“Don’t lie, Simon.”
“Someone I can’t say…” Ada was watching him wide-eyed. Clearly she didn’t want him to give me a name, but I continued to press him.
At last he cracked. “Dora! It was Dora! Do you feel better now?!”
“It’s not that I feel better, I just wanted to know who told you such things.”
Ada looked at me intently. “Please, you won’t have Dora punished, will you?”
“No, of course not, but whatever do you mean?”
Ada shook her head. “She might be severely punished, that’s all.”
She quite unsettled me with that. But then I took it to mean she might be sacked. “Well, I shall only speak to her then, alright?”
“Oh yes, Miss. Thank you, Miss.”
I took their hands then and we headed back to the house, the children walking just ahead of me, whispering.
And I watching their backs, wondering what they were saying.
*
The perfect opportunity to speak with Dora came about shortly before I turned in, when she came to ask me if I’d care for a hot chocolate.
I went straight to the point. “Dora, the children mentioned ritual sacrifices on the moor—it’s not true, is it?”
She began to cry. Clearly, I had upset her. “I am sorry! I never meant no harm!”
“I know you didn’t but in the future I’d ask you not to discuss serious matters like that with Ada or Simon. Children are children, after all.”
“I shan’t say no more, Miss! But please, don’t tell the mistress.”
“Of course I won’t.”
“Thank you, Miss.”
“I am amazed at this whole thing. Surely it is a fabrication.”
“Oh, but it is true, Miss Baines. So help me. Blackstone isn’t the ancient name. It used to be called Bloody Stone Moor because of all the sacrifices performed there, thousands over the centuries. It’s all true you see, all of it.”
I nodded and watched her leave. Here I was settled into my new position but already something evil had frightened me.
Was evil here, too? Would I be forever troubled by dark forces or would I eventually know peace?
Chapter 15
I knew I had been too upset about the legend to fall asleep, so I put on my dressing gown and went down to the kitchen for some warm milk.
As there was a small fire going it was warm in no time. I was just sitting down with a full glass when I heard a carriage pull up. It was my employers and Dr. Bannion.
“Ah, Rose.” Dr. Bannion rushed into the kitchen, looking in a frightful state. He had dust on his face and looked terribly done in. He caught his breath as one would after a race.
Mr. and Mrs. Darton followed, looking slightly better. I found it exceedingly odd that they came in through the servants’ entrance, but thought it might have been due to their appearance. I wondered what had happened. Pins had come out of Mrs. Darton’s hair and she was paler than usual, if that was possible.
Louis, though, had the usual enigmatic expression on his face. It was so hard to read him, and I desperately wanted to understand.
When they saw me, they all seemed taken aback.
“Oh, you’re up,” Mrs. Darton remarked, a little unsteadily. “Is something the matter?”
Mr. Darton said nothing. He barely glanced at me. Some emotion passed through his eyes and I could see now that he was terribly upset about something.
“No,” I replied. “I fancied some milk, that is all.”
I bade them goodnight and left them to talk quietly amongst themselves.
The milk did its work and I was soon yawning and ready for bed, determined at last not to worry about anything. I put Dora’s story out of my mind. After all, Britain had all sorts of legends and I had heard one of them.
So what, I reasoned? There are countless more—most of them pretty frightful stuff—like headless ghosts and apparitions that return to their place of execution and so on.
But Louis, the look in his eyes, that stayed with me, kept me awake until exhaustion finally took its toll and I eventually fell asleep.
I don’t know how long I slept, but something woke me. I thought at first it was a scuffle. Certain that I had heard shouting, I raced to my window to see what was happening.
I saw a beam of light moving quickly along the ground as though someone was running with a torch in hand.
Then I heard Tom shout. Frightened that someone was hurt, I rushed into the hall. There, climbing the stairs, I saw Mr. Darton.
“Is anything wrong, sir?” I asked.
“No, Miss Baines, I thought I heard a prowler but it was of no consequence. Just some foolish young lads out for a bit of mischief. They’ve been dealt with and have gone on their way.”
I felt relieved and was about to say so, but he spoke first. “You weren’t frightened, were you? Everything is alright now, truly it is.”
I swallowed hard for he seemed to be worried for me. “No, sir. I am fine.”
He looked so relieved when I said that. “Well then, best to turn in. Do have a good night.”
“You too, sir.”
It seemed to me he hesitated. At last he said goodnight once more and I did, too.
I did glance back at him once only to find him looking after me.
*
Dr. Bannion left the next day and I settled in to my position. I was becoming more used to my new environment as well as to the staff. Even Mrs. Sternwood was beginning to rile me less.
Mrs. Darton was pleasant and helpful and Mr. Darton too, although he seemed preoccupied. I wondered why and asked Dora about it.
She told me he was no longer operating his club. “I understand he had to close it Miss, don’t know why exactly. I think it quite bothered him though, as well as the mistress. Very upset they both were and angry too, make no mistake. And I would venture to say they will let their house go in Manchester.”
Suddenly I noticed that Dora looked as though she had spoken out of turn.
“It’s alright, Dora you can trust me.”
I quite liked Dora, though I found myself feeling sorry for her. I had no doubt that Mrs. Sternwood was harsh and unkind and frightened the girl to death. Poor Dora.
Truthfully, I was quite delighted to have Dora as a confidante. It was helpful and besides, I found myself wanting to know all I could about Mr. Darton. Why this was, I had no idea—not then anyway.
And so I thought of him and wondered how he would make his living with his club no longer open. Perhaps, I thought, he had little need to work. I imagined he lived off some sort of income and had for a long time. Perhaps the club was just a kind of hobby.
As for me, I could not recall being as contented as I now felt. Life indeed was going on and now, for the first time in ages, I felt hopeful. That was something to be treasured.
And it was good to be busy. My days were filled with lessons and reading, too. Both Ada and Simon I found to be bright and compliant, although I have to say I often caught the most
morose expressions on their faces. I’d ask them what it was but neither would tell me.
I had a feeling they might be deeply unhappy about something and I did intend to make it my business to find out.
Sometimes I wondered whether to speak with Mrs. Darton about it. I trusted her and thought I could go to her more easily than to Mr. Darton, as any time I found myself in his presence I’d feel my cheeks color under his smoldering gaze.
But my impressions of him were vacillating as I kept questioning everything he did. I eventually came to the conclusion that he kept most people at a distance.
Not me, I hasten to add, but others. I thought he quite spoke down to Mrs. Darton and often didn’t seek any sort of interaction with the children. This I considered to be most odd.
As for the servants I did feel I knew them a little better. Molly was pleasant enough and Tom was quiet more than surly, I think, although that may be too generous a view on my part. Mrs. Sternwood was, I fear, a genuinely lost cause. I determined to ask Dora about her.
Poor Dora was timid, as Ada said, and literally afraid of her own shadow. And then—this was the oddest thing—she often looked as though she wanted to tell me something but couldn’t. I don’t know if she was afraid or felt it was wrong—but I so wanted to know. I thought there was something terribly sad about Dora and I resolved to learn about it.
Finally, she did tell me something of herself. “I’ve been with the Dartons less than a year. I grew up in Huddersfield. It wasn’t easy for me, Miss…”
I had put together a scenario about Dora that was quite sad but I feared all too true. I thought she was thrown out of the house, poor thing. I also had a feeling she might have been pregnant and that was the cause.
I didn’t ask her, but I did encourage her to confide in me. “Dora you may come to me any time with any sort of problem or matter you might like to discuss. I want you to know that.”
She looked pleased that I said that. “Thank you, Miss.”
I felt good too, for I quite liked her though truly, I didn’t think she’d ever bare her heart to me.