Some Veil Did Fall

by Kirsty Ferry

  Instead of a cloud-filled sky, she saw a clear blue one. And instead of a worn old stone angel, she saw it as she had always dreamed it to be. A jet of water was shooting heavenwards, diamonds sparkling in the stream as it arched and fell down to the bowl beneath it.

  ‘No!’ she exclaimed, leaning forwards. Another jet of water shot out of the fountain; some of the stream curved away and sprinkled droplets on her, the direction not quite vertical. She stared at it, transfixed, then became aware of someone walking across the courtyard towards her: Adam.

  ‘My gift to you,’ he signed as he came closer, indicating the fountain. ‘An angel for my angel.’

  Ella stared at him, the emotions fighting within her. Rage, anger, fear, love … none of them had precedent, just yet. ‘Adam!’ It was all she could manage.

  He came closer and stood in front of her. ‘Do you like it?’ he asked. ‘I wanted it to be a surprise. Someone told me you needed to see it today.’

  His eyes flicked across to the small windows in one of the walls. Ella glanced across and saw a figure disappearing behind the glass. She caught a flash of black and white; she could tell it was a maid’s dress and hat.

  ‘Elizabeth?’ she asked, still staring at the window. She looked back at Adam.

  He nodded. ‘The fountain still needs some work on it. As you see, the water is not quite right. Maybe there is a blockage.’ He frowned at the angel, then came and sat by her. ‘Do you like her?’ Ella nodded, unable to answer. ‘Good. It is a little early, it was to be a wedding gift, but Elizabeth suggested it to me. She thought she would be in trouble by speaking up.’ He smiled. ‘I wonder why she felt the need to speak today? Can you answer me? Would you prefer to move somewhere drier?’

  ‘I like it here,’ Ella said. ‘I want to stay next to the angel. She is just as beautiful as I imagined she would be. Thank you.’

  ‘Yet you are still unhappy,’ he said, taking her face in his hands and looking into her eyes. His own eyes softened and he tilted his head to the side, mirroring his favourite action of hers. ‘Have I done something to disappoint you?’

  ‘No! Not at all!’ she said. ‘It’s just that I didn’t expect to see you today. I made a decision earlier and to be truthful I would rather I had not seen you. It would have made this moment easier.’

  ‘What is it?’ His eyes were now full of concern. ‘I finished what I needed to do, and I hurried home to see you. I have travelled since daybreak without stopping.’

  It was true; she could see that lovely, velvet-collared overcoat was crumpled and his necktie once more was loose and had escaped from his waistcoat.

  ‘I know and I am very grateful. Adam, I shall always be grateful to you.’ She lifted her finger and traced the laugh lines at the corner of his eyes. He looked tired and unshaven and she knew he spoke the truth. ‘I shall always love you, but I am not the right person to marry you. You need someone else. Someone who can be everything you need in a wife. That is not me and I can never be that person.’

  ‘What? Where did this come from?’ asked Adam. She could tell by his face he was completely thrown by her words. All pretence of fun was gone.

  She shook her head and turned away. ‘You know it is the truth,’ she said quietly. ‘I have been thinking about it a lot. I cannot come and live abroad with you. It is ridiculous to think I would manage there. So I am leaving. As soon as I can, I will arrange to take my possessions back to York. I am letting you go, Adam. I don’t want to, but I have to. It’s not fair on either of us.’

  ‘Ella! No!’ he said, taking hold of her shoulders and turning her towards him. She stubbornly refused to look at him and he shook her gently until she gave in. ‘What has put such doubts into your mind? Any ventures I have abroad will be dealt with in one of two ways and it is entirely your choice. We will all travel together; you, Lydia and myself, and my agents here will deal with the British interests. If we choose to stay here, I have agents in all the countries I deal with. They can work for me. I will have to make some short trips, but that is no different to our lives now.’

  ‘But Jacob said the agents were not capable and Lydia was not to travel with us.’

  ‘Jacob?’

  ‘Yes. He told me he had offered you assistance but he had been refused.’

  ‘It is Jacob who put these doubts in your mind?’ asked Adam.

  ‘He told me Lydia would have to stay here and I would be left on my own with the foreign staff. I rarely admit defeat, as you know, but this is beyond me.’ Ella said the words she had always hated saying: ‘I cannot do it.’

  Adam stood up sharply. His face was furious. He looked down at her and she shrank a little under his gaze.

  ‘You are angry with me. You have every right to be,’ she said. Then she too stood up, never one to be faced down. ‘I will leave as soon as possible. Goodbye, Adam. I hope you understand.’

  She turned away and started towards the house, but he grabbed her arm and pulled her back towards him. ‘No, Ella. You are not leaving. Damn Jacob, he is a liar. He always has been. He is bitter that I inherited the Park and he wants my life; so therefore he also wants you. That is the only reason he spoke as he did. It will not happen. Our plans remain. If I have to, I will sell the interests abroad to keep you here. Heaven knows I have enough income from England to rely on.’

  Unexpectedly, he bent down to her and kissed her shoulder. He gradually moved up along her neckline. Now he was kissing her jawbone and she closed her eyes, a little gasp escaping from her lips.

  She could feel his warm breath on her neck and, despite the situation and the unusual setting, it did strange things to her insides. She opened her eyes. The water was still streaming out from the angel, tossing prisms of colour into the air and she thought that she had never experienced such a perfect moment in her entire life. Her decision was made.

  ‘The servants, Adam,’ she said eventually, trying to draw away from him. ‘They can see us …’ But if he answered, she did not hear him.

  There was only one dress on the bed when Ella returned to her room; a frothy, golden coloured confection that had always been her favourite.

  ‘Elizabeth!’ she said, seeing the maid with her hand poised, apparently replacing the last of the other outfits.

  The maid looked around guiltily, her face flushing a deep scarlet. ‘I am sorry, miss,’ she said. ‘Did I do wrong? Please don’t tell me you want these back out. Please don’t tell me you’re leaving.’ The girl was speaking quickly, the words tumbling out of her mouth and Ella raised both her hands.

  ‘Please – more slowly, Elizabeth,’ she said.

  ‘Oh, miss,’ said the girl. She came and planted herself squarely in front of Ella. ‘Am I in trouble? I knew the master had come home and I couldn’t help but see you were upset, miss.’ She bowed her head.

  ‘Elizabeth,’ Ella said gently, guessing correctly that the girl was still talking. ‘Look at me, please.’

  The girl lifted her head and another scarlet rush flooded her cheeks. ‘I’m sorry, miss. I knew he was planning that fountain, like, and I wanted you to see it. I don’t want you to go, miss.’

  ‘It is all right, Elizabeth. I am staying,’ replied Ella. It was Ella’s turn to blush; she could feel the warmth spreading over her own face and she pressed her hands to her cheeks. ‘I was being silly. And how could I leave after seeing the angel working? I think I owe you my thanks, to be truthful.’

  ‘Really, miss?’ asked the maid. Her eyes were wide and terrified. ‘I was so worried, miss. I thought it wasn’t really my place, you know.’

  ‘You did what you thought was right,’ said Ella, ‘and thank you also for returning my clothes to the wardrobe.’ She walked over to the dress and fingered it. ‘Thank you for leaving this one out. I shall wear it for dinner tonight.’ She smiled at the girl.

  ‘Yes, miss,’ sai
d Elizabeth, curtseying. ‘I’ll be going now, miss. Thank you.’ She backed out of the room and shut the door gently, leaving Ella alone.

  Ella turned to face the dressing table and picked up the silver-backed hairbrush that lay there. She turned it over in her hands, remembering the mirror incident that she was not exactly proud of. She caught sight of herself in the replacement mirror. She still looked the same. There was nothing to recommend her as different in any way. She stood up straighter and smoothed her skirt down. Then she smiled at her reflection. She put the hairbrush down on the unit and turned away from the mirror. She was as good as anybody, if not better, and she must never forget it again.

  THE WEDDING

  September 1865

  The wedding had been an outstanding success. Lydia told Ella that she was ready to defend it to the hilt if anyone should dare complain about even one aspect of it. She had worn her pink dress, of course, with Ella’s blessing, and spent much of the day fussing over the trims and ensuring the skirt hung perfectly.

  ‘I know, of course, though,’ she told anyone who would listen, quite graciously, ‘that I am simply secondary to Ella, and so I should be. Even I can see that.’

  Miss Waters had surpassed herself with Ella’s dress. The skirt fell in heavy panels to the ground, and froths of white lace were layered on top of the satin. It was trimmed with tulle frills and swansdown, and tiny crystals caught the light and sparkled all over the dress.

  Seeing Ella wearing it had Lydia, for once, lost for words. She simply stood clapping her hands, bouncing on the balls of her feet and shaking her head.

  Ella had found it all hysterical. The finishing touch was a floor length veil of the same white lace and a small posy of late roses. Ella had found a little bunch of daisies in her room beforehand, and, smiling, tucked a few flowers into the posy.

  ‘Who are they from?’ asked Lydia. ‘Who would leave daisies here for you?’

  ‘I suspect it is Elizabeth,’ replied Ella. ‘I saw her scurrying away along the corridor earlier.’

  ‘She is a sweet girl,’ said Lydia. ‘Are you ready?’

  ‘Almost,’ said Ella. She stood in front of Lydia. ‘How do I look? Tell me?’

  Beautiful, signed Lydia. ‘I cannot speak, you are beyond words.’

  Thank you, replied Ella, laughing. ‘Tell me,’ she said more seriously, ‘is Jacob here?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ replied Lydia. ‘He didn’t respond to the invitation. I hope he will just turn up. Men are hopeless at responding to social invitations. If he had a wife, we would have been assured of seeing them here today.’ She set her lips in an annoyed little line.

  Ella dipped her head, pulling some flowers to a more pleasing shape. She knew, of course, why he hadn’t responded. She had to demand that Adam actually allowed them to send an invitation – he was all for cutting his cousin off completely, and she refused to be the catalyst for that. She had longed to be part of this family and now she was, she was not about to start tearing it up.

  ‘Perhaps he was simply concerned,’ she had pleaded. ‘Who is to say that I even understood him correctly?’

  Adam had given in, but she knew he was hoping that Jacob wouldn’t appear. Ella had told Lydia none of what had gone on. Lydia still simply thought that Ella had suffered from terrible pre-wedding jitters and had long since forgotten about it.

  The ceremony itself was held at St Mary’s, overlooking the sea at Whitby. Nobody gave Ella away. She walked down the aisle preceded by Lydia, her eyes on Adam as he waited at the altar for her. His expression told her all she needed to know, dispelling any remaining doubts she may have had about marrying him. She was aware that the pews were full of people, some of whom she knew and many of whom she did not. She did not care. It had pleased Lydia and all Ella wanted was Adam. She didn’t care if there was a great deal of ceremony or very little, so long as the end result was the same.

  The sun was shining when they walked out arm in arm, casting hues of a thousand different blues into the ocean and she felt her heart lift. This place was where she belonged.

  ‘I will remember this moment forever,’ she told Adam as he helped her into the carriage. Lydia had ensured it was decorated appropriately with mounds of pink and white flowers and matching ribbons, which would stream behind them as they travelled along the cliff path back to the Park. ‘I do not believe I could have had a more perfect day at all.’

  ‘If we had been married in rags by a travelling gypsy preacher, I could not complain,’ said Adam with a tender smile.

  ‘I was thinking much the same,’ said Ella.

  Adam moved her veil away from her face and kissed her. ‘I could not have wished for a more beautiful bride. Every time I look at you I am astonished and humbled that you should have chosen me.’

  ‘Shhhh,’ said Ella, placing her fingertips on his lips. ‘I keep telling you, I am nobody special. I am the same as everyone else. I should be honoured that you chose me. You could have had anybody.’

  ‘But I wanted you,’ he said, leaning into her. And there was no more talking for either of them for the entire journey.

  Lydia took care of the socialising at the wedding breakfast, chattering to various people yet, Ella knew, staying close enough to the couple so she could step in if required. The weather was a glorious, Indian summer day and Ella had suggested they serve the champagne in the gardens. It was a joyous success and people were scattered around the lawns, laughing and talking in little groups. Ella and Adam were entertaining a rather ancient great-uncle and his companion when she saw him: Jacob had come after all.

  Ella had looked up and seen a man sitting on a horse, half-hidden by the shadows against the wall, quite a way from the company. Her eyes were extremely sharp, and she could tell that Jacob was not dressed for a wedding. Instead, he looked rather unkempt. He wore no coat, waistcoat or cravat; just a loose, white shirt which was partially unbuttoned and a pair of riding breeches. His dark hair was a mess and bore no evidence of any brushes or comb and his eyes were black hollows in his unshaven face.

  Ella and Jacob stared at each other for quite some time, and even at that distance, there seemed to be something in his expression that she couldn’t quite place. An immediate concern for his welfare pressed into her mind and she had just decided to alert Adam when Jacob dug his heels into the horse and galloped off around the side of the house, towards the courtyard and out, she assumed, towards the cliff path.

  Ella tried to turn her attention back to the great-uncle and nodded and smiled at appropriate intervals – her usual tactic when she was preoccupied and not following the conversation – until Lydia appeared next to her and raised her eyebrows. Lydia knew Ella too well, of course. There was an unspoken question in her look.

  In response Ella gestured for Lydia to move to the side of the group. Jacob may be here she spelled out, making sure that Adam could not see what she was saying. Lydia was very good – she betrayed no emotion, she simply nodded. But if it was him, he must not want to join us continued Ella. Please do not tell Adam.

  Adam will be very unhappy if he hides from us, replied Lydia. Where is he?

  I think the courtyard, answered Ella.

  Will I go?

  No. I will. I may be mistaken.

  Lydia nodded, and moved towards Adam and the great-uncle, smiling widely.

  Ella reached for Adam’s hand. He turned and smiled down at her.

  ‘Please excuse me for a moment,’ Ella said. ‘I need to go into the house.’

  ‘Hurry back,’ he said, lifting her hand and kissing it. She nodded and hurried away, slipping around the side of the house, following the pathway which led into the courtyard.

  It was ridiculous, perhaps, to expect Jacob to still be there when she reached the courtyard. Ella ran into the space and stared around her, trying to work out if he had indeed gone ou
t through the gate to the cliff path. Her gaze then alighted on the angel statue. The water was shooting up perfectly now; Adam had been true to his word and restored it fully for her, but there was something amiss about it. She went over to it and looked more closely, tilting her head to the side, trying to see what looked out of place. It was only when she walked around the statue and came to the back that she saw it; the wings had been smashed off the back, and a heavy mallet lay in the water. Her heart lurched. There was no way Jacob, if indeed it had been him, could have done it in the brief time she’d taken to get to the courtyard. That meant only one thing; it had to have been done earlier in the day – probably when most of the household had been at the church in Whitby. Jacob’s words came back to her. It is natural to be concerned about your future, Ella. Sometimes, even angels fear to fly. It is often safer for them to stay on familiar territory.

  Lydia ran across to Ella when she returned to the party on the lawn. Ella shook her head at her, hoping to indicate that she had been wrong and Jacob had not arrived after all. She didn’t feel as if his presence was something she could admit to, which was silly, because if Adam ever found out who she was protecting, he would explode. Ella didn’t fear for herself, it was Jacob she was concerned about. She thought that Adam would be able to make things extremely difficult for Jacob, and she did not want to be responsible for that.

  ‘Did you discover who it was?’ asked Lydia, when she had managed to get Ella on her own.

  ‘No. But whoever it was destroyed my fountain,’ Ella replied.

  ‘Oh, Ella! Is the fountain beyond repair?’ Lydia took hold of Ella’s hand and squeezed it sympathetically.

  ‘I hope not,’ said Ella. ‘Never mind. It is only her wings. You cannot see the damage from the seat.’

  ‘That is not the point. I am sure Adam will be able to engage a stonemason to work on it. Are you all right?’