Dorothy was also unable to resist a little speculation. She took her brother aside and whispered, “Did you notice that Lavinia hardly took her eyes off you? I think, my dear brother, that she is extremely fond of you, perhaps even loves you a little.”
Richard laughed. “You romantic fool.”
“And I think in time you’ll love her in return.”
“By my faith, Dorothy, you must really be a witch if you know that.”
“Witchcraft has nothing to do with it. A woman simply knows these things. One reads in books of young nobles marrying village maidens in spite of parental opposition.”
Richard rolled his eyes. “Would you like to plan the wedding feast now?” he asked flippantly, and yet a part of him was already wishing that she would.
***
Meanwhile, Alice and Lavinia were ascending a wide staircase, and after traversing several corridors, came to an antique bedchamber. There was a heavy oak bed with damask curtains, a few high-backed chairs and tables, and a curiously carved wardrobe. Somewhere between sculpture and shrine, the top was a cacophony of curlicues and fruit, while each end panel, incorporated a life-sized carving of a monk.
To the right of the bed, a drawn back tapestry revealed a small water closet, while opposite the bed was a great yawning fireplace. With the depressing furniture, the shrouded bed, and the gothic wardrobe with its forbidding figures, the room had a grim, almost sinister air.
“I have brought you here,” said Alice, motioning Lavinia to sit down, “because I want to tell you a story, a very painful story, but one which I am now convinced you should hear.”
“I would be glad to listen to anything you have to say, but only if it does not distress you.”
Alice laughed mirthlessly. “My dear child, I am accustomed to distress and disappointment, so a little more of either will not do me any harm. Now, how much, if anything, do you know about my dead husband?”
“Nothing.”
“Then allow me to enlighten you. I was married when little more than your age. Edward was not of my choice. Nevertheless, I was looked upon as a devoted wife and he a model of affection. But it was a façade on both our parts. I hated him and he knew it. And yet, though he was implicated in numerous trysts and affairs, he became passionately jealous of any man who paid me attention. Does the name Stoddard mean anything to you?”
“I once knew a girl named Lucy Stoddard, but she and her family moved away years ago.”
Alice rubbed her forehead. “Oh dear, this is going to be more difficult than I imagined. Henry Stoddard bought Holton Abbey after the dissolution of the monasteries, and upon his death, bequeathed it to the first Howarth Faulkner. Now, Henry was the eldest of three brothers. He never married, but the others did and had a dozen children between them. Do you understand so far?”
“Yes.”
“Andrew Stoddard, a direct descendant of old Henry, was a friend of my husband’s and a frequent visitor to the manor. We fell in love, and not a word or look passed between us that could have been misconstrued, or so we thought. The only person in my confidence was… Elizabeth Ashmore.”
“My mother?” exclaimed Lavinia. “But she has never mentioned it.”
“No, she would not, as will become apparent. She and her husband, John, were employed at the manor. He worked in the stables while Elizabeth was my personal maid. Being in such a position, she could not be kept in ignorance of the situation between Andrew and myself, and to her credit, was very sympathetic. And much was it needed, for Edward began to treat me with violence and cruelty.
“When I became with child, I felt in my heart that Andrew was the father. I told him so in an unguarded moment, unaware that my husband had heard every word. That same evening, I was made prisoner in my room, and for the next few weeks, endured the most inhuman treatment. But my withdrawal from society did not go unnoticed, and a proposal was made to the effect that, in public, we would appear as we had before. This, as my husband callously explained, was not for my benefit but for the sake of his reputation. Otherwise, I could go to the devil.”
“Oh, madam, surely no misdemeanour warrants such sanction. How could a husband be so cruel?”
Alice smiled at the girl’s naivety. “Arguably, I deserved it.” She stopped and swallowed hard. “But I did not deserve what happened next. Your mother was also with child, but she was such a good maid and confidant that I steadfastly refused to dismiss her. Then, late one evening when our daughters’ were but a few months old, the door burst open and my husband and John Ashmore entered. Both had been drinking heavily, and I was in bed with a mild fever that had terminated my milk.” Tears began to roll down her cheeks. “Your mother was nursing a babe by the fire. There was no other light in the room. My husband snatched the child out of her arms. Elizabeth cried out that it was her child and appealed to her husband to save it, but he only laughed. The child was taken away and never seen again.”
“And the other child?” asked Lavinia tentatively.
“Ah, that is the question. But mark the punishment of the men involved,” said Alice, her eyes now sparkling with vindictive pleasure. “John Ashmore was thrown by his horse and landed in a pool of filth. His neck was broken and so he drowned. Edward succumbed to an unknown malady. His end was terrible. Many who saw him affirmed that it was witchcraft, and knowing he had held secret conferences with Fanny Craddock, I more than suspected her involvement. He sought to stifle the malady by hard living and drinking, but to no avail. Visions haunted him at night and vague fears pursued him by day. When I saw he would not recover, I tended him most carefully, not for his comfort, but in the hope that he would reveal the location of my murdered child.”
“And did he?” asked Lavinia with mounting suspicion.
“Yes and no. You must remember that he was delirious, and yet throughout his wild mutterings he kept using the word ‘changeling’.”
Lavinia’s voice was slow but steady as she asked, “Are you suggesting that the wrong child was killed?”
“I can never prove it, but the facts are compelling. Firstly, Elizabeth cried out that the child in her arms was her own, but Catherine is not old enough to bridge the gap of time. Secondly, in spite of my pleading, Elizabeth and her children left my employ shortly thereafter. She has rarely spoken to me since. Thirdly, Mistress Craddock, whether directly involved or not, knows something, which as you heard earlier today, she boasted of. And finally, the discrepancy in the hair. My daughter had black hair, not red, but the room was so ill-lit and she was wearing a bonnet, that it would have been easy to make a mistake.”
“So, you are my… my mother?”
Alice sighed heavily. “I think so, but as I just said, I can’t prove it. The only people still alive who know the truth are Fanny and Elizabeth, but they both have motives for not revealing it.”
Stunned and yet not entirely surprised, Lavinia asked quietly, “What happened to Andrew Stoddard?”
Alice sighed again. “In the end, he was a coward and denied parentage. He then cut all ties and moved away. Then, about ten years ago, I saw him whilst visiting Leeds. Oh, Lavinia, how he had changed. He was fat and bald and with an ugly leer in his eye. I don’t know how I ever found him desirable.”
“Did you speak to him?”
“Yes.” Alice hesitated. “Lavinia, please prepare yourself for an even greater shock. I coaxed him into an alley under the pretext of discussing old times. As it happened, I was carrying a dagger for protection. I stabbed the bastard through the heart.”
Lavinia gasped. “You… you killed him?”
“He deserved it,” said Alice bitterly. She leaned forward and took Lavinia’s hand. “I know all this has come as a great surprise to you, but I think I have a remedy. If you are willing, I will make you my ward.”
The room fell silent. Lavinia tried to think rationally. Nothing in her life had prepared her for this. While it was true that Elizabeth Ashmore was cold and unyielding, it was equally true that she had never been e
xcessively cruel. Even so, to live in a house with little or no affection, where kindness was as scarce as hen’s teeth, where the foreseeable future was not imbibed with happiness, was a doleful existence seemingly without end.
And now, Alice Nash, a woman she, Lavinia, barely knew, but whose reputation was good and solid, was offering to change all that. Such things were rare but not uncommon, and for one beautiful moment, Lavinia felt her spirits rise with excitement and rebellion. But then the reality hit home.
“My mother, or should I say, Elizabeth, will never allow it.”
“Oh yes she will,” said Alice robustly. “You see, I know a few secrets of my own, and one of them is that both Elizabeth and her brother, Christopher, are illegitimate.”
Lavinia’s mouth fell open. Anger and a sense of betrayal were fast superseding shock. “Are you sure?”
Alice nodded vigorously. “I know on irrefutable authority that Margaret Dymock paid John Ashmore to make Elizabeth respectable. If she proves obstinate, I can use it against her. Pardon me for speaking plainly, but the family is already stigmatised, and the last thing they need is their reputation sullied even further.”
“Dorothy made a similar comment when we were walking by the river.” Lavinia stood up and went to the window. She needed a moment to collect her thoughts. “Mistress Nash,” she said presently, “what of Catherine? If I left the family I would be deserting her.”
Alice went across and put a hand on her shoulder. “Your loyalty to Catherine is admirable, but she is not your sister. For your own peace of mind, it would be best if you accept the fact that the Ashmores are not, and never have been, your family. It is Stoddard blood and not Dymock that flows through your veins,” and to emphasise the point, she took a piece of her own hair and twisted it with a lock of Lavinia’s. The colour were a perfect match. “We may never know why Elizabeth exchanged infants that night, but the more I look at you the more I am convinced she did. Do you realise we have the same shaped nose?”
“That must have been what Mistress Craddock saw.” Lavinia’s expression suddenly changed. She had just thought of a flaw that could undermine her newfound joy. “How can I be acknowledged as your daughter without exposing your past?”
“Hence why I suggested a wardship.” Alice smiled reassuringly. “As far as I am concerned, you will never return to Elizabeth Ashmore. Instead, you will become the young mistress of Barkham Manor.”
Lavinia could not take it all in, and yet a wave of indescribable happiness was already flowing through her. She laughed. “I’ve never seen it. Is it a big place?”
Alice frowned. “But you must have done when you visited Margaret at Wolfdene.”
“I’ve never been to Wolfdene. She has always come to the house, though she has not set foot in it in years.”
Alice let out a cry of joy and threw her arms around Lavinia. “That settles it! Why would Elizabeth keep you apart? Answer, because Margaret would know instantly that you were not a Dymock.”
Still held in her ‘new’ mother’s embrace, Lavinia heard a curious groan that did not emanate from Alice. She looked at the wardrobe. “I think there’s somebody in there,” she whispered in alarm.
Alice went across and threw open the doors. Lavinia saw a range of clothing, including a long red cloak with indistinct embroidery, but nothing of significance. “Well,” said Alice, closing the doors again, “unless he’s a dwarf of the smallest stature, I don’t see anyone.”
Though pacified on this point, Lavinia was still bothered on another. “Are you sure there’s nothing you can do for Catherine?”
“I want nothing to do with her and neither should you. Her fate, whatever it may be, lies in another direction.”
“I have always tried to teach her good principals, and even after everything you’ve told me, I would still like to help her. Perhaps it will recompense Elizabeth for the debt of gratitude I owe her.”
“Debt of gratitude?” repeated Alice scornfully. “You owe her nothing.”
Lavinia shook her head. “On the contrary, was not the life of her infant exchanged for mine? Does that fact alone not bind me to look after Catherine’s interests?”
“Once your new situation is known, I doubt Elizabeth or Catherine will thank you for anything, no matter how well-intended.”
“Perhaps not now, but a time may come when… Ah!”
A white owl, its plumage spread like the wings of an angel, had flown through the window. It settled on top of the wardrobe, hooted three times, and then looked at Lavinia with large fiery eyes.
Alice was across the room in a flash, and with splayed fingers, pressed the tips into her daughter’s face. Lavinia fell backwards as though in a faint, and just before losing consciousness, caught a glimpse of an extraordinary looking man.
He had stepped out of the wardrobe. His face was scarred and decidedly lopsided, and his mouth was little more than a gash. His eyes were of a brilliant piercing blue and his hair streaked with grey. Tall and muscular and dressed entirely in black, his commanding presence radiated power. His age might have been about 50… had he not died 84 years earlier.
“Einyon!”
“Surprised?” he said gruffly. “Who else did you expect? The owl forewarned you I was coming.”
“Yes… no…” Alice collected her wits. She settled Lavinia in a chair and then demanded, “Why are you here uninvited?”
“To clean up your mess.”
“Mess? What mess?”
Einyon sighed as the owl flew out the window. “Your foolishness. A turd of a solicitor utters a few threats and you panic. Considering your powers, sending Davy Ashmore to Wolfdene was pointless, and after what happened earlier today, enough to raise suspicion. I concede he is loyal to the cause, but otherwise he is reckless and indiscrete. Fortunately, I intercepted him and sent him on a more important mission.”
Alice looked at him warily. “What do you mean?”
“There is much disharmony in the sisterhood. It is detracting from its true purpose. There are many petty grudges, and the battle between Mistresses’ Dymock and Craddock is not helping. It must cease.”
Alice grunted. “Good luck with that. They’ve been fighting for years.”
“Yes, but their contract with the master is about to expire, and their attempts to impress him in order to survive are drawing unwanted attention. I have therefore called a meeting for tonight.”
Alice gaped at him. “Tonight? Are you mad? The abbey will be full of people and…” The blow was hard and fast. Even so, Alice knew she’d escaped lightly for her insolence. “I’m sorry,” she whimpered. “I didn’t mean…” She shrieked as Einyon grabbed her hair and pulled her to her feet.
“If you thought with your head instead of your cunni,” he hissed, “you would see the wisdom of the plan. Yes the abbey will be overflowing, but most will be in costume, so several more dressed as hags is unlikely to raise suspicion.” He squeezed her breasts. She was still a good-looking woman for her age – not that he would ever tell her so. “Now, bend over that chair. Even a shrivelled apple is a feast to a starving man.”
Alice glanced at Lavinia as she started to back away. “No, Einyon,” she implored. “Not here, not now.”
His blue eyes glittered dangerously. “Are you refusing me my rights? You know the master wants me to spill my seed everywhere, hence why he restored me after that faggot Mcnab killed me.”
“Yes, and you can use every method of coaxing and deceit to fulfil the purpose, but in the end, you can only complete the act with consent.”
Einyon shrugged. “A few fancy words or a coin or two and a woman will gladly spread her legs. Ha! There are two lasses in yonder Appleby village who think I’m a young buck who’s going to marry them.” He loosened his clothing and stroked his engorged member. “But you, my dear, need no such encouragement. Now, bend over.”
“You really are vile.” Alice raised her skirt and gritted her teeth. Einyon was huge and his method rough, and as he had stated,
she could not refuse him.
“By the way,” he said as he rammed into her, “you are to pay for your stupidity with a new novitiate tonight.”
The shock of this temporarily dulled Alice’s senses. “But how? There isn’t time.”
Einyon laughed and looked meaningfully at Lavinia. “Bring her. I shall enjoy taking her virginity.”
***
Lavinia began to stir. Alice peered down at her. “Ah, so you’re awake.”
Lavinia rubbed her eyes. “What happened?”
“You collapsed, the excitement and emotion I expect.”
Reluctantly, almost fearfully, Lavinia looked at the wardrobe. “There was an owl here, and someone else, a man I think.”
“A man? Oh you mean the servant who brought a message from Lady Eleanor regarding your gown for the Ball. He helped me get rid of the owl. Poor creature, it must have lost its way.”
“Was the man tall with greying hair?”
Alice laughed. “No, he was short and looked like a toad. Now, I shall call for hot water so we can bathe and dress for the Ball. You will share this room with me tonight. I will inform Sir Howarth and Lady Eleanor of our decision, but not the circumstances behind it. I will also send a message to Elizabeth, and if necessary, speak to her tomorrow. Rest assured, Lavinia, she will not interfere.” Alice turned away, a secret smile on her face. “I give you my word.”
Chapter Eight
Early Evening
A gallery hugged three sides of the banqueting-hall. Huge displays of stag horns, separated by banners and tapestries, hung from the railings, while several suits of armour, one allegedly belonging to the first Howarth Faulkner, silently looked down on the festivity.
Servants and scullions bustled around long wooden tables, while stretched across one end of the hall, Sir Howarth and his personal guests enjoyed the luxury of damask cloth and silver vessels. Deer, oxen, and pig, having been roasted in the kitchen, were carried in on long metal spits, while salmon, trout, and eels, had been boiled, fried, stewed, and pickled. For the ladies, there was a delicious array of pastries and puddings, whilst in the background, cellar men and comely wenches kept wine and ale flowing.
The Sisterhood:: Curse of Abbot Hewitt Page 9