by Kirsty Ferry
It had always been Adam. She recalled the crushing disappointments when she came here, full of anticipation, only to discover he was away on business. He had been the one she had wept and raged at when, not much more than a child, she had discovered there was no hope that the awful, creeping silence she had lived with would ever stop until it had swallowed up everything in its path. It had been Adam, not Lydia – because dear and sweet and wonderful as Lydia was, she had handled it even worse than Ella had. Lydia’s immediate thoughts had been how she would ever enjoy the coming-out parties and balls they had to look forward to. Adam’s thoughts had been of a far more practical nature. Like Lydia, Ella had no parents to guide her – only an elderly aunt who didn’t quite know what to do with her. So Adam was the one she turned to – and he had barely been a man himself, but she swore to this day that his wisdom was what had saved her soul.
There had always been an attraction between them – at least on her side – and it was only today she had realised that their easy friendship had the potential to develop further. She felt herself grow hot as the colour flooded her face again and was briefly thankful for the cool air against her skin.
Ella looked up, finding herself on the path that led to the summer house. The twilight was approaching and there were some clouds glowering on the horizon. The air felt heavy and she knew that a thunderstorm was likely. The air had a special smell to it, of earth and undergrowth, and Ella could feel the pressure building up around her.
As she watched the sky, a jagged fork of lightning lit up the countryside and big, fat drops of rain started to fall. Ella reached out and laid her fingertips on the trunk of a tree. She began counting in her head, and sure enough, a few seconds later, she felt the thunder roll among the clouds and tremble through the tree. She raised her face to the sky again and closed her eyes, feeling the rain wet her cheeks. She had always loved thunderstorms, even as a child and had often pressed her hands against the panes of glass in the windows and felt them rattle and shake.
Then Ella opened her eyes and snatched her hand away from the tree trunk. There never had been and never would be a roll of thunder that would break her silence. She jumped as she felt a hand on her shoulder and swung around, her heart hammering in her chest. Adam was standing facing her in the half-light, his eyes full of concern even as he smiled that easy smile of his.
‘I told you to leave me alone!’ shouted Ella, shaking his hand from her. She turned away but he pulled her back towards him and placed a hand on her upper arms.
‘I told you before,’ he said. ‘I cannot use sign language. I don’t understand it. Come now, you are soaked through.’
‘It is getting dark,’ said Ella. She deliberately turned her face away from him. ‘I don’t know what you’re trying to say.’
Adam leaned into her line of vision. ‘Don’t lie to me, Ella. Don’t be so dismissive. You know perfectly well what I’m saying. And you’re still getting wet. Fortunately, I had the forethought to bring this.’ With some sort of flourish, he produced a soft, velvet cloak. He reached around Ella and hung it on her shoulders. He pulled the hood up over her honey-coloured hair, then manoeuvred her towards the summer house, pushing her gently ahead of him. Once inside he produced two candles from his pocket and lit them with some matches he produced from his other pocket.
Ella stared at the flames, watching as Adam moved the candles onto a small table and indicated that she should sit on one of the two chairs in the pool of light, while he took the other.
‘No excuses now,’ he said. ‘We can have quite a conversation. You first. What happened tonight?’
‘Talk all you want,’ said Ella. ‘I don’t know what you’re saying.’
‘Yes you do,’ said Adam. ‘If you couldn’t see me, you wouldn’t know I was talking. But you can see me, so I’ll ask you again. What happened in there?’
‘I hate that woman,’ said Ella dismally. ‘She is poisonous.’
‘Helena is in love with Jacob,’ said Adam. ‘She’s jealous.’
‘But I’m nobody to be jealous of,’ exclaimed Ella. ‘I’m certainly not interested in Jacob romantically and I cannot bear Helena. She is welcome to him. I know Lydia wishes them to be together and I would never get in their way. And I don’t really care either way!’
‘Oh that is good to hear,’ said Adam. ‘Ella, I lied when I said I didn’t know any sign language.’ He dropped his head and stared into the flames, then raised his head. He looked directly at Ella and she felt the atmosphere shift. She clutched the edge of the seat and stared at him waiting for his next comment.
‘Ella,’ he said carefully. ‘You remember how I found Lydia’s old finger spelling sheet this afternoon? I was hoping to have a little more practice, but – well – I shall try.’ He raised his hands, looking embarrassed, and smiled at Ella. The candlelight made flickering shadows all over his face, and Ella longed to follow them with her fingertips, but she dug her fingers into the seat instead.
Adam began to laboriously shape his hands and fingers and she quirked her lips into a smile as she watched the phrase take shape.
‘There is a quicker way,’ she said eventually. She pointed her right forefinger against her chest, crossed it with her left hand and then pointed at Adam, again with her right forefinger. I love you.
Adam smiled. ‘Beautifully expressed,’ he said, ‘but it means nothing unless it is true.’ He tilted his head to one side. ‘Is it?’ he asked. ‘It was when I said it through my fingers.’
Ella shook her head and Adam’s face fell.
Then, despite herself, she laughed. ‘Unless you “line” me, then no, it’s not true,’ she said. ‘You are quite right, you need more practice.’
Adam laughed and she could see the relief wash over him. ‘Then I beg of you, will you teach me?’ he asked. Adam leaned towards her and took her face in his hands. ‘I am willing to learn. I am willing to take all the time in the world to learn it from you. Could we have that time together, at all? The rest of our lives, perhaps?’
Ella’s heart skipped a beat. She hardly dared believe he meant what she understood. ‘I don’t know,’ she said carefully. ‘What are you implying?’
‘I want to marry you, Ella Dunbar. I think I have loved you since the first time Lydia brought you to Carrick Park, but I hardly dared to think that we would have any sort of future together. Look at you. You are beautiful, you captivate everyone you meet. What hope do I have, as simply the brother of your old school friend?’
‘Adam! I long to say yes, but it’s something I’ve barely allowed myself to dream about. What happens in the future? What happens when you are committed to someone like me? I would be no good for you, with all your business contacts and social events. It is difficult, Adam. I don’t know how I would fit into your lifestyle. I mean, you own Carrick Park! There is a certain duty attached to it. I don’t know whether I could help you fulfil that. I would be a hindrance to you – how could you stand me sitting by you at all those social occasions, missing the point of every conversation and looking ignorant in front of your contacts …’
Adam put his finger to her lips, silencing her. ‘Ella, you are anything but ignorant. You are my Ella, and that is all that matters to me. You always have been. You couldn’t be any more perfect for me.’
‘Adam—’
‘Ella. I will ask you again. Will you marry me?’
Ella looked at him. ‘I think it’s too dark in here after all, despite your candlelight. I can’t seem to believe what I think you just said.’
‘I meant it.’
‘But—’
‘No buts. No excuses. Just a simple yes or no.’
There was a beat. Ella looked into the flame, then looked at Adam. She slowly nodded her head. ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘My answer is yes. But I am so very sorry.’
‘What about?’ asked Adam.
‘Incredible,’ murmured Adam. ‘You are incredible.’ Then he leaned over and kissed her and all thoughts of the mirror fled from Ella’s mind.
They had gone back to the house through the rain-drenched gardens, and Ella had run up the staircase towards her rooms, decreeing that she would not to return to the party under any circumstances. Adam had followed her up to the first landing where the stairs split into two and he reached out to stop her before she took the flight towards the left wing.
‘When we are married,’ he told her, ‘I shall have your portrait hung right there.’ He pointed to a space on the landing wall.
‘No!’ she said, laughing. ‘Never. I would make a terrible sitter.’
‘You would not,’ he said, pulling her close and cupping her face in his hands. He looked down at her. ‘Will we call you Lady Eleanor, I wonder?’
‘I would prefer Ella,’ she replied. ‘I feel nothing like a lady.’
‘You are everything a lady should be and more,’ said Adam. He gestured up the stairs. ‘Go now, I see you’re anxious to escape. I think we’ll save our news for tomorrow. I’ll speak to my sister and tell her I found you safely and you are resting.’
‘I am sorry I spoiled the evening,’ said Ella. ‘I am sorry that you had to come out and find me in the storm.’
‘I am sorry that you had to put up with Miss Warner,’ said Adam. ‘I will speak to her privately.’
‘Adam!’
‘No,’ said Adam. ‘She cannot treat our family like that. Leave it to me. Goodnight, my love.’ He leaned down and kissed her, her face still in his hands.
She smiled and continued up the stairs, but before she reached the top of the staircase, she turned and saw him still standing there, watching her.
He raised his hands. I love you he told her.
I love you too she replied, and disappeared around the corner into the corridor.
THE PHOTOGRAPH
When Ella woke up the next morning she wondered at first whether the whole episode had been a dream. She raised herself up on one elbow and looked at the dressing table mirror. It was shattered and cracked, the silver-backed hairbrush lying on the dressing table itself.
She looked at herself, her sapphire eyes and long, honey-coloured hair reflected a million times in the shards of glass. It was real. Everything was real. There was a draught of cold air on her shoulder and she saw the reflection of the bedroom door opening. She sat up in bed, wondering who could be coming to see her.
The door opened fully and the little housemaid, Elizabeth, entered, balancing a breakfast tray. She smiled widely at Ella and came over to the bed. She fumbled around, dragging a small table over to the bedside and set the tray down.
‘Breakfast, miss,’ she said, pointing unnecessarily at the tray. ‘For you.’
Ella knew she was speaking loudly and slowly and managed to hide her amusement. This was entirely different to Helena; Elizabeth had not a venomous bone in her body.
‘The master said so,’ the girl finished, nodding eagerly.
‘Thank you,’ said Ella. The girl nodded and smiled again and left the room. Ella looked at the food piled up on the plates and wondered exactly how long it would take her to work her way through it all. Well, for this one morning, she would luxuriate in it.
It was well after ten by the time Ella had finished breakfast and dressed. Part of her was eager to go downstairs and see Adam, but another part of her was not so eager to see Helena. With any luck, the girl would have gone riding and she would be excused her company for a little while longer.
Ella went down the staircase, seeing again the space on the landing wall where Adam had threatened to hang her portrait. Today, he had told her, was the day they would share their news with Lydia. Lydia’s habit, she knew, was to sit in the drawing room until everyone was gathered around her and then she would begin to tell them what they would be doing that day. Lydia would never change. Ella smiled, remembering the dinner party invitations she had issued to them yesterday. There had only been the four of them at that point. Lydia had obviously known that Adam was coming but, Lydia being Lydia, she did like to formalise things.
Ella pushed open the door into the drawing room and saw Lydia sitting at a table, studying a big, square box with two round pieces of glass on the front. She had a book open next to her and she seemed to be looking at the book then fiddling with the object.
Lydia looked up and waved. ‘Good morning, darling. Do you like my new toy?’
‘What is it?’ asked Ella.
‘A camera,’ said Lydia. ‘Is it not marvellous? I ordered it from America! How splendid it is.’
Ella, curious, began to head towards the thing, until she felt an arm creep around her waist. She turned to see Adam standing beside her.
‘What has she acquired now?’ he asked.
‘I don’t know. She says it’s a camera,’ Ella replied. She turned to Adam. What is she doing? she asked. A flash of light caught her off guard and she jumped, letting out a yell of shock.
Adam laughed and pointed at Lydia.
Ella turned back to her, thoroughly confused now.
‘Oh, I am terribly sorry. I think I just managed to take a photograph of you,’ said Lydia, almost as surprised as Ella was. She blinked and looked down at the camera. ‘I shall have to develop it now. Adam, darling, would you?’
‘Certainly,’ said Adam. He hurried over to the camera and they bent their heads over it, apparently trying to work out how to take the plate out and which of the various chemicals that Lydia produced from a box beside her would work on the thing.
Ella shook her head and wandered off into the corner of the room towards the piano. Let them sort it out, she thought as she sat down and began to pick out the Mozart tune from the night before. If it was indeed a picture of her, she was in no hurry to see it anyway.
Lost in her music, it seemed a while before a rather damp piece of paper was placed in front of her. On it was a slightly blurred image of Ella and Adam, caught at the precise moment Ella had been asking what Lydia had been doing.
‘Oh, no!’ Ella cried, grabbing it with both hands and studying it. ‘This is horrible! Look at me! Oh, Lydia, no!’ She looked at Lydia, torn between being horrified and desperately amused at the image. She shook the picture at her. ‘How dare you!’
‘It’s beautiful!’ Lydia laughed, hugging her. ‘Look at you both. See how handsome my brother is. And you are so pretty!’ She made the sign for pretty as if to emphasise her point. ‘You can see the light shining on your beautiful hair. How clever. What were you saying to him?’ She took the photograph from Ella and looked closely. ‘Oh, I see. You were asking what I was doing. You terrible girl! You see, I can still understand you, even in a picture. But what a shame some of it came out so blurred. At least your faces are clear enough.’
‘Well, you can destroy it or you can hide it somewhere; it will not see the light of day,’ said Ella. ‘It’s dreadful. And stop talking so quickly! It’s impossible to keep up with you.’
‘It’s not dreadful,’ reprimanded Lydia. ‘But I will keep it, if only to prevent you from destroying it yourself. Oh, Jacob! Good morning. Come and see this.’ She waved the picture in the direction of the door.
Jacob walked up to the piano, nodding at the assembled company. Adam, having tidied up some of the mess Lydia had left with her chemicals, came to stand beside Ella.
‘Good morning. Let me see, then,’ said Jacob, holding his hand out for the photograph.
Ella wondered if she was the only one who saw an odd look flit across his face as he held the picture, then his expression settled into its usual calm composure. ‘Interesting,’ he said. ‘From this morning, I suspect, looki
ng at your outfits and the setting.’ He handed it back to Lydia, clearly showing her that he wasn’t at all interested in it. ‘Where is Miss Warner, today?’ he asked. ‘I was looking for her earlier. I have already been around the gardens and she was not there. The stable hands have not seen her either.’
‘Oh, I really cannot say!’ replied Lydia. ‘I just assumed that she was around.’ She looked about the room vaguely, as if Helena was going to pop out of a bureau or appear from beneath the table.
‘She has gone home,’ said Adam shortly. ‘She came to find me earlier – apparently she had news from home and she had to leave. I was going to tell you before, but then my sister managed to take a photograph and I was somewhat distracted.’
‘News from home?’ asked Jacob. He looked at Adam steadily. ‘Convenient.’
‘Do you believe so?’ replied Adam, looking at his cousin just as steadily. Jacob was the first to break eye contact. ‘Well, she will be missed,’ Adam said. ‘But we cannot dwell on it. There are still four of us here. What, my sweet Lydia, is our agenda for today?’
‘I thought a trip into Whitby, because we did not make it yesterday,’ she said. ‘We shall take the carriage. Oh, that is so annoying about Helena leaving.’ She pouted prettily.
‘Oh, I do not mind riding,’ said Ella quickly. She felt responsible for Helena’s disappearance and as she was sure that Adam had engineered it for her, she didn’t want to cause any more disruption by insisting on the carriage.
She looked at Adam, a question in her eyes. He shook his head imperceptibly at her, seemingly telling her not to worry about Helena.
‘It is not for your benefit, Ella,’ said Lydia. ‘I just think the weather looks rather dreary and I would rather be inside the carriage should we have another storm like last night’s.’ She smiled to show there was no hidden meaning in her words.