Matters of the Heart

by Rosemary Smith

  I was lost for words and was sure his intention was to kiss me but he moved to the fireplace to replenish the fire.

  After stirring the pine logs he leaned his hands toward the blazing warmth while I watched the flames that leaped in unison towards the chimney, lighting the room with a golden glow. The only other light was from a lamp on a small table.

  ‘There are plenty of books,’ Robert said as he moved away from the fire his arm indicating the book-lined walls, ‘but it would be difficult in this light to choose. Maybe you could peruse the shelves later, in the light of day.’

  ‘Indeed,’ I agreed.

  I made to get up off the chair but Robert stopped me gently with one hand and sat leaning forward in his chair, his hands clasped casually in front of him. The light from the fire outlined his good looks and I could see the fire reflected in his eyes. I suddenly realised I was staring at him and averted my gaze.

  ‘Don’t look away, Janie. I sensed at dinner you were displeased with me.’

  It was a question and brought to mind his association with Aunt Laura and my anger returned for I would not and could not share him with another woman. What had happened to me? Never before had I responded to a man with such feelings.

  ‘I would very much like to know what you said about me to your friend Alan Lester.’

  ‘Only the truth.’

  ‘Which is?’

  ‘That you are a beautiful, young woman and that I hold you in high regard, but there is something else bothering your pretty little head and I can guess what.’

  ‘If you know, why ask? It should be I asking the questions.’

  ‘A woman’s body, a child’s mind,’ he whispered.

  His words cut deeply. I knew it was true. I was behaving like a sixteen-year-old and it wasn’t the impression I meant to convey to this man.

  ‘I apologise for behaving as such,’ I said meekly, ‘but soon after dropping a kiss on my brow, I see you in intimate conversation with Aunt Laura.’

  I could’ve eaten my words for they conveyed the truth, that I was indeed jealous. I saw the startled smile on Robert’s lips and then it vanished.

  ‘Don’t press me on this, Jane. Believe me when I say the meeting with your aunt was purely innocent.’

  He looked more serious than I had seen him before and I half believed him.

  ‘Let us talk no more of it.’

  I knew for the moment at least, the subject of Aunt Laura was closed.

  ‘Tell me, Jane, have you any aspirations?’

  The subject was indeed changed. Should I tell him my one aspiration was for him to fall in love with me? But, no, I thought of my days prior to coming to Pendenna Reach.

  ‘I don’t know that it is an aspiration, more a desire to travel, to see places I have only read about. The Leaning Tower of Pisa at dawn, following the footsteps of the Egyptians, walking through the sand on a foreign shore or seeing the moon glimmer on the Serpentine. It is but a dream.’

  I looked at Robert who was watching me attentively.

  ‘How did I know you would be different from most young ladies of your position? The majority would aspire to find a husband and raise a family.’

  He watched my face as he spoke. How I wished to kiss his strong mouth.

  ‘Dreams can come true, Janie. Would you wish to share this world adventure with someone?’

  The question came quite unexpectedly and I wished with all my heart to answer it adequately. I cast my eyes on the dying embers in the grate and then looked back at Robert.

  ‘Only with someone who truly loved me, and loved me enough to share my dreams.’

  There was a pause for what seemed like a lifetime yet it was only seconds.

  Robert bent forward and cupped my face in his hands and gently brushed my lips with his. I wished that moment could have lasted for an eternity but it was gone and I felt a trembling through my whole body and was afraid when I got up that my legs would not hold me. The clock in the hall struck the hour of five, each chime seeming to move us further from that precious moment.

  ‘I must go,’ I said and realised my voice did not sound the same.

  Nothing would be the same again.

  ‘Yes,’ Robert’s voice came to me as if in a mist. ‘The maid will be in soon to lay the fire.’

  So saying, he rose to his feet and helped me to mine. As I walked to the door, I heard him call my name softly.

  I turned to look at him, my hand on the doorknob.

  ‘Trust me,’ he said.

  As I opened the door, I knew that a girl had entered two hours before and a woman was leaving, a woman very much in love.

  7

  I made my way back to my room along the now dark corridor as if in a daze. As I shut my bedroom door behind me, I leaned back on it, savouring again the moment Robert’s lips had briefly touched my own. What joy filled my whole being at the memory then I recalled his words, trust me, and I really believed that I did with all my heart.

  It was still dark and, suddenly feeling cold, I lit the lamp on the small table by my chair and bent down to light the fire laid ready in the hearth. As I sat watching the paper alight and listening to the dry crackling as the flame caught the wood, I thought of my mother and how she must have come back to this very room with a heart full of love and longing for my father. The thought of her brought to mind her diaries. This was as good a time as any to read some more.

  Swiftly I retrieved the second diary from the chest for I was anxious to know at which moment she had fallen in love. As I skimmed through the pages, the entries were of mundane things, such as visits to a dressmaker, church outings and my mother’s and Aunt Laura’s walks with Andrew and Jason. From what I read, I gathered Mamma and her sister were very close. Then I sat upright in my chair as I read an entry near the end of the diary.

  October, 12, 1851.

  Today Laura and I discovered the priest’s hole quite by chance whilst dusting the doll’s house. It was amazing, but Laura has sworn me to secrecy, why I can’t imagine. I am longing to tell Mamma but will not for I do not want to be the recipient of Laura’s bad temper. I just hope Miss Blackstone does not find out as she has eyes which are sharp and a tongue to match.

  The words jumped up at me and I thought with some dismay of Aunt Laura lying and denying any knowledge of the priest’s hole to Alan Lester only last evening. The question was, should I keep it a secret also or should I tell Grandmother? I would mull it over in my mind and decide what to do. There was no more mention of the priest’s hole so quickly I replaced the diary in the chest and reached for the third one with some excitement. As I leafed through the pages I realised this was more revealing and was what I was seeking.

  March 1, 1852, I read.

  Oh, what a day. My heart is singing for he kissed me. My first kiss! I swear I am in love and can hardly wait to see him again, to talk and laugh with him and maybe feel his arms around me.

  April 5, 1852.

  Laura is jealous that I am in love and that I don’t spend much time with her, but she and Andrew appear to be getting along well. I earnestly hope she will find the happiness I feel for I am deliriously happy. My every waking moment and my dreams are filled with thoughts of him.

  June 4, 1852.

  If this is love, what joy. I am suffused with such fulfilment I pray that it will last forever.

  June 28, 1852.

  Laura told me she and Andrew were walking out together. She mentioned the priest’s hole today and hoped I hadn’t told anyone. In all honesty, I had forgotten about it. Laura also said I seemed different, not at all the Felicity she knew.

  July 18, 1852.

  Two things of importance happened today. Laura announced she is to marry Andrew Trehaine in November. She doesn’t act like a woman in love. Today I realised that I was with child! What are we to do? My beloved will know.

  October 20, 1852.

  Papa refuses to let me marry and says I have brought nothing but shame on the Pendenna name. I have c
onfided in Mama. She understands but cannot go against Papa. What he says is final. Tonight I shall cry myself to sleep, if sleep will come, for my mind is in turmoil. Laura has no sympathy for the position I find myself in. It is as if she hates me.

  This was the last entry in the diary and to my surprise there was only one entry in the fourth diary.

  November 7, 1852.

  Today we are to leave for France. Granny Merriock came to the house today and told me not to have anything more to do with her grandson but John is noble. My heart is filled with sadness for I will be leaving all that is familiar to me and what is worse, I cannot say goodbye to dearest Mama but I have to be strong for the child I carry. All I can wish for is that Papa will change his mind when the child is born. Farewell.

  Tears sprang to my eyes as I imagined my mother’s pain and at that moment I hated the Grandfather I had never known and Granny Merriock, being no more understanding it appeared. What my parents must have gone through for me. Tears rolled down my cheeks as I replenished the fire, leaned back in my chair and drifted into a troubled sleep.

  Molly startled me into wakefulness gently shaking my shoulder.

  ‘Why, miss, what is wrong? Are you ill? And the curtains all drawn back, and it’s hot in here.’

  Molly’s anxious face looked down at me and I remembered, as if in a dream, the night’s events and I felt emotions both happy and sad.

  It’s all right, Molly. It was the storm that kept me awake,’ I assured her as I bent down to pick up Mama’s diary which had slipped to the floor.

  As I got up to place it in the chest, I could see that the rain was pouring down which would prevent me from my much-desired visit to Granny Merriock, but no matter. I had the desire to get ever closer to my mother and would visit the schoolroom instead. Suddenly I remembered Molly’s meeting the previous evening with Jack. So bound up was I in my own thoughts I had forgotten Molly and I realised she did seem especially happy this morning. On asking her how she faired, Molly replied with a sparkle in her eye.

  ‘It was really good, miss. Jack is a real gentleman, and, miss...’

  ‘Yes, Molly, go on.’

  ‘He kissed me.’

  Her voice trembled as she spoke and it brought to mind the early hours of the morning in the library and although she would never know it, I knew exactly how she felt and thought how strange it was that we should have gone through the same experience on the same night.

  I had hoped with intense longing that I would see Robert that morning but alas there was no sign of him. I would have to wait. I ate breakfast in solitary silence, alone with my thoughts. As I then made my way across the hall to the stairs, Mrs Dobbs crossed from the kitchen towards the library.

  As she passed me, she asked, ‘Did the storm disturb you, miss?’

  She looked at me almost knowingly and I suddenly felt guilty. As I made my way to the schoolroom, following Mrs Dobbs’ directions, I told myself not to be fanciful.

  As I opened the door of the room, the first thing to catch my eye was a doll’s cot! It looked totally out of place amongst the desks, blackboard and easel. As I walked over to the wooden crib, I could see there was a large, porcelain doll in it, tucked up with blankets and wearing a white lacy bonnet. How strange, I thought.

  ‘I wonder what you are doing in here,’ I said aloud.

  The four wooden desks were badly ink marked, the white china inkwells caked in ink. I lifted the lid of each desk and in the last one there was a notepad on which had been written in large capital letters, I HATE YOU. It has obviously been written with some feeling as the pencil had pressed hard on to the paper, piercing it in places.

  Who would have written it and about whom? It was hard to tell if it was done years ago or quite recently. As I walked across the wooden floor to the blackboard, my boots sounded very loud. I started to write the name Felicity with the white chalk I found when I detected the smell of lavender. Turning swiftly, I came face to face with the lady who wore it.

  The tall, grey-haired, gaunt-looking woman who stood in the doorway was dressed in clothes of a past age. Her hair was parted in the middle, the side hair being drawn over the front of her ears and then looped up to a small bun at the back of her head. She wore a dark blue dress with black stripes, printed at the waist, the full skirt falling gently around her, and on her head a white day-cap trimmed over the ears. She just stood there and looked at me. I felt somewhat ill-at-ease and sensed she was waiting for me to speak first.

  ‘Who are you?’ I uttered softly.

  There was a pause before she spoke, in a Welsh accent.

  ‘I know who you are. You’re my Felicity’s little one. I watched you arrive from this very window and have watched you on many occasions since.’

  As she spoke, she took a couple of steps into the room, her skirts swishing on the wooden floor and the waft of lavender became more apparent.

  ‘You are correct,’ I said, ‘but it doesn’t tell me who you are and why you had the right to enter my room without invitation, for it was you, wasn’t it, and you left me the warning note?’

  My voice was unsteady and I spoke with an authority I didn’t feel.

  ‘Yes, it was me who entered your room, but only because of my concern for your safety.’

  ‘It pleases me that you admit it but I must ask you again, who are you?’

  As I spoke, she moved farther towards me and picked up the china doll, gently smoothing the doll’s dress. I noticed her eyes were a fading green as she looked directly at me.

  ‘I am your mother’s governess, Nora Blackstone. Felicity was a good girl, so gentle and kind, to animals as well as people. I am still waiting for her return. The nursery is in readiness.’

  She paused and laid the doll back in the crib.

  ‘But don’t you know?’ I said gently. ‘My mother died some years since.’

  ‘No-o-o-o.’

  The word became such a wail it frightened me but then she calmed down.

  ‘Felicity will return to me. She promised and Miss Felicity never breaks a promise. Laura on the other hand, she is cruel and unfeeling with a harsh streak in her, like her father, Morgan Pendenna.’

  She grasped me by the shoulders so suddenly I trembled.

  ‘It is because of Laura you must leave. She will do you harm and I want no harm to come to my Felicity’s girl.’

  ‘But why? Why would she harm me? She is my mother’s sister.’

  Her hands relaxed their hold on my shoulders for which I was glad and I moved away from her and sat on the chair by the ink-stained desk, my knees trembling.

  ‘I cannot tell you why. You will learn soon enough. If you will not go then I must protect you some other way. Miss Laura only comes to see me to make sure I’ll keep my mouth shut.’

  She suddenly clamped her hand over her mouth and I could see tears rolling down her cheeks.

  ‘You see, Jane, it is the priest’s hole. No, I cannot and will not speak of it for fear of my life.’

  ‘Tell me, Miss Blackstone, what is it you fear so much? I may be able to help you. I will speak to my grandmother on your behalf.’

  I felt sorry for her now. She was obviously a very frightened woman.

  ‘I cannot tell you. Just believe me when I say there is such horror to be found in these walls and to think it is the nursery where my beloved Felicity lay so sweetly as a child, sleeping like a baby. That is how I shall see her again one day when she returns and all will be well again.’

  I knew now there was something very odd about Miss Blackstone’s ramblings and tended to think I should not believe a word she told me for it was quite plain to me that she was living in the past.

  ‘Where is your room, Miss Blackstone?’ I ventured.

  ‘Why, next to the nursery, of course, where it has always been. Don’t you remember?’

  She spoke to me as if I was a child.

  ‘Come with me, Felicity, back to the nursery, like a good girl. Lessons are over for today. We will get o
ur coats and walk in the wood like we used to. Come, child.’

  She held out her hand toward me.

  ‘I cannot come now, Miss Blackstone. I have to see my grandmother.’ I waited with baited breath but she seemed to accept this.

  ‘Later then, child. I am feeling weary now.’

  So saying, she looked at her fob-watch.

  ‘Polly will be bringing my lunch any time now and then I will make sure everything is ready in the nursery.’

  ‘Miss Blackstone,’ I had to ask, ‘why is the crib and china doll in the schoolroom?’

  ‘Why, don’t you know? I couldn’t let Felicity’s baby lie in the nursery, poor little lamb. She will be safer here.’

  Thankfully, she walked to the door then and paused and looked back.

  I knew she was back in the present when she said quietly, ‘Watch out for Laura, child, but I will protect you if needs be.’

  She then left the schoolroom and I could hear her skirts swishing along the corridor. To say I was confused about this meeting was very true. I was left baffled by the conversation I had just had with my mamma’s former governess. Was there really a priest’s hole or was it something conjured up by a woman not of sound mind? And while Aunt Laura had not been as affable as I would have liked, was she really so evil?

  As I made my way down the stairs, along the dimly-lit corridors, determined to find Grandmother, I felt a panic rising in me and longed to escape to normality, but where? My thoughts turned to Jason Trehaine. How I wished I were at Mannamead now, in the light, airy rooms. Instead I was here, stifled by the suffocating atmosphere of Pendenna Reach. I wondered now, although no harm had yet befallen me, if I would be safe in my bed.

  8

  My grandmother wasn’t to be found in the drawing-room and looking out of the window I could see the rain still fell relentlessly and guessed she would not be out on the terrace either. I would seek out Mrs Dobbs, hoping she may know her whereabouts for I was anxious to talk to her about many things, Nora Blackstone being number one on my list.

  Not since arriving at Pendenna had I entered the kitchen, Mrs Dobbs’ domain. I tentatively pushed open the door and was faced by an alarmed-looking, buxom woman dressed in black with a frilly white apron and mobcap. Stood beside her, up to her elbows in flour, was an equally-alarmed-looking girl, as slight as cook was buxom, tendrils of hair escaping her white cap.