The Seventh Miss Hatfield (24 page)

‘Yes, yes, I’m afraid standing for this long has made me feel a bit faint. Would you mind terribly if we make haste back to the carriage now?’ Flustered, I hoped that talking with someone who was physically present with me would shut out Miss Hatfield. When she remained silent, I hoped it was working.

‘Of course, dear,’ Eliza soothed. ‘The service is over, anyway, is it not?’

I looked around and was surprised to find that nearly everyone had already wandered back towards their carriages. The disruptive mental conversation with Miss Hatfield had made me lose touch with what was going on around me. I felt trapped between dimensions and times.

All I wanted now was to take the painting and go back to Miss Hatfield – back to normal, or however close to it I could get – but everything was going wrong. It wasn’t supposed to be like this, and I found myself in no state of mind to concentrate on anything other than worrying about Henley.

‘Come, let’s hurry, then,’ I urged Eliza. I grabbed her walking stick and took firm hold of her arm, and we were back aboard our carriage and on our way to the estate in a matter of minutes. The air on my face helped to calm me a little, but I was still feeling a bit hollow, as though part of me was beginning to disappear.

The next day, Henley came ambling into the house as though nothing was out of the ordinary. I was coming down the stairs when our eyes met. He tossed his riding crop onto the small flower-patterned chair beside the parlour door and made one of his mock bows to me, as he’d done so many times in all our early play-acting and flirtations.

‘Charmed, Miss Rebecca; you look excellent well.’ He didn’t sound drunk, so that was something, I thought.

I couldn’t quite get into the role-playing again, though. ‘I’m fine, thank you, Henley. But how are you? And—’ I lowered my voice as I walked to his side ‘—the more salient question is, where have you been?’

His face clouded over. ‘Why the hell should you care? Or anyone, for that matter? I may be the heir apparent as far as everyone else is concerned, but it’s been made clear as day to me, and to you as my witness, that I no more belong here than … well, than a stranger such as yourself.’ His tone had been snarling at first, but as he expressed his innermost thoughts, he grew pensive. I knew he wasn’t really angry with me, at any rate, and just let it slide.

‘How long has it been since you’ve eaten a decent meal?’ I changed the subject and, crooking my finger at him, led him down the hallway towards the kitchen. ‘Let’s see what Eloise can cook up for you. You look famished.’ I glanced back over my shoulder at him. Good! He was following me. I smiled at him, but he didn’t appear to notice. That was fine – it was easier to take inventory of his appearance if he was unaware I was doing so. His clothing was wrinkled and his beard had grown quite a bit since I’d seen him last, but at least his hair was combed. I decided to make no mention of his absence from the funeral. He appeared to be on the road to a recovery of sorts. At least he was making an effort, albeit a feeble one, to look somewhat presentable.

He begrudgingly followed me into the kitchen. When Eloise saw him, she nearly shouted in alarm. ‘Mr Henley! Child, where on earth have ye been keeping yourself?’ she exclaimed.

‘I believe he needs the fortification of one of your excellent meals, Eloise,’ I answered for him as he stared at the floor like a naughty child who’d been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. ‘Could you please whip up something for him? He needs his strength rebuilt.’

‘Ay, that’s plain to see,’ she agreed, and immediately set about slicing some of the roast beef left over from the previous night’s dinner, and in no time had set before him an overstuffed sandwich of roast beef, cheese, lettuce, tomatoes and onions – obviously one of his favourites going by the way his face lit up before he bit into it.

I enjoyed seeing him relish it, but decided to slip out quietly, thinking perhaps he would open up a bit more easily to his old friend without me present.

I was feeling more antsy than I had a week before, but thankfully I hadn’t heard Miss Hatfield’s voice since the funeral, for which I was grateful. It was extremely disconcerting when she popped into my head. I knew I’d conversed with imaginary friends when I was Cynthia, but that sort of imagination wasn’t something that scared me or drove me to a point where I couldn’t trust myself to be alone.

Over the course of the day, I kept myself busy working on my plan to carry out my mission. With each passing hour, more and more of the many staff members were quietly leaving, usually with a single suitcase in hand. Clearly they all had relatively few personal belongings. This was exactly what I’d promised Nellie and Hannah would not happen, so I decided I needed to confront Henley about it.

I sought him out and found him in the garden with Eliza. They were sitting comfortably together in silence, and his countenance looked more peaceful than it had earlier. He’d trimmed his stubble nicely, and it was obvious he was planning on keeping it, at least for a while. It suited him, actually. I nodded to him, and when our eyes locked, I signalled that I needed to talk with him privately.

He excused himself from Eliza and walked over to the side yard of the house, where I joined him. Here we’d be out of earshot of Eliza and the remaining servants. Christine didn’t appear to be in evidence, which suited me just fine.

‘Are you quite well, Rebecca?’ he asked with some concern. ‘You look peaked.’ He kept a respectful distance from me, and I felt a mixture of relief and something else – a deep love for the young man in front of me – but the feeling of relief was more powerful. The fewer complications I created before I left, the better.

‘Yes, thank you, Henley. I’m fine,’ I replied. ‘I’m just worried about the servants … several of them have left already. Do you intend to dismiss them all?’ I tried not to sound indignant, but I couldn’t believe that Mr Beauford would have wanted his loyal staff to be let go.

‘Why, no, not at all. All who have left have done so by their own choice. Obviously you didn’t know that.’ He was reading the reactions on my face. ‘I helped the ones who wanted to leave after Father …’ His voice faltered and he dropped his gaze. ‘After Mr Beauford passed away, several who had been with us for a long time just wanted to move on. Two were at retirement age and have returned home to live near their children, and I found stations for the rest at neighbouring estates.’ He looked back up at me, just the faintest hint of a smile in his eyes. ‘You have such a sense of justice, don’t you? I admire that. But I should hope you’d know I would never throw anyone out into the street. We can afford to keep most of them on; some just decided to leave of their own volition, that’s all.’ He shook his head, then added, ‘No one was more surprised than me. Except perhaps yourself.’

I felt embarrassed. How could I have suspected him of such a thoughtless act? I knew him better than that, or liked to think I did. I lowered my voice a bit; I knew Eliza’s hearing was quite keen. ‘Please forgive me for insinuating that, Henley. I was just distraught because Hannah and Nellie are worried about their jobs.’

He gently waved a hand from side to side, as if to erase the mere thought. ‘They’re both welcome to stay on as long as they like. In fact, with some of the older ones gone, I expect they’ll be promoted a bit faster. It’s a new start for all of us.’ He tentatively reached out and touched my shoulder, as a friend would. ‘But what of you and your circumstance – are you still determined to take your leave of us?’

I nodded. ‘I must, Henley. I don’t belong here …’ I nearly told him more about the truth of my situation, but he’d already been through so much of late, the last thing he needed was the burden of my full story; and the odds were he wouldn’t believe most of it, anyway. ‘I do still need your assistance to destroy those artefacts we’ve talked of …’ I remembered Henley’s comments regarding gossiping ser- vants. ‘And it must be done as inconspicuously as possible.’

I saw a glint spark in his eyes and wondered if he might actually take great pleasure in helping me get rid of something that had been a source of such destructive fascination to Mr Beauford. ‘That can be arranged,’ he assured me. ‘What exactly must you do away with in the study?’

I sighed. ‘Virtually everything, to be safe. There’s more at stake here than you or I can possibly fathom. Those records could be quite dangerous were they to fall into the wrong hands.’

Henley nodded, showing that he believed me even if he didn’t understand. ‘So everything save the painting you need to take with you, then?’

‘Yes, and the sooner, the better.’ I felt I owed him at least something of an explanation. ‘You see, Henley, I’m living a double life in many ways, and it’s not merely my own welfare I’m concerned with here—’

My dear friend looked grim, but held up his hand to let me know I need say no more. It was probably wise not to burden him with any more details, at any rate; and it was obvious he’d decided to help me, no questions asked. He really was a remarkable young man. Christine didn’t deserve him, not by any stretch of the imagination. But that was their problem to sort out, not mine. He was concocting a plan, and was deep in thought. As he stroked his new beard, he looked older and perhaps a little wiser than before. It was obvious that Mr Beauford’s death had touched his life in many ways and he had suddenly become a man.

‘All right, then. Here’s how it shall be played out. You’re to do nothing. Leave it all to me.’ He paused, but when I opened my mouth to object, he held up his hand to silence me and said, ‘Remember, servants do more than just listen. They talk. I don’t want any suspicions cast upon you, and we can’t risk your mission being delayed any longer by unwelcome meddlers.’ He sounded firm on this, but I couldn’t let him take on all the responsibility.

‘Oh, you needn’t go that far on my account,’ I protested. ‘Surely we can work out a plan whereby—’

He interrupted me. ‘I already have it all worked out, and it’s a dilly of a plan, if I do say so myself. But you’ll just have to trust me. You’re welcome to take Thunder to go wherever you need to when the time comes, but I insist you allow me to pursue this in my own way, Rebecca.’ He extended his hand. ‘Agreed?’

Reluctantly, I shook his hand and nodded. ‘Very well, agreed. I can’t thank you enough, Henley.’

‘Think nothing of it.’ He motioned that I should go and sit with Eliza while he headed off in another direction. ‘You have touched my life profoundly,’ he whispered. ‘I shall never forget you, and I wish you nothing but happiness.’ He briefly took my hand and silently touched my fingertips to his lips, but it was a true friend’s kiss, and nothing more. I couldn’t believe he was so agreeable to helping me, with really no explanation whatsoever. I went to sit beside Eliza, and when I turned back to thank him again, he was gone.

‘Well, Eliza, there’s been a slight changing of the guard, I’m afraid. You’re stuck with me, dear, as Henley had to take off on some errand.’ I patted her hand and she smiled.

‘Oh, I’m glad, Rebecca,’ she said. ‘I’ve missed talking with you these past few days. Are you planning to leave us soon, in order to finish writing your feature about Mr Beauford and get back to your busy life as a newspaperwoman?’

‘Yes, that’s right, Eliza. Sometime during the next few days, that’s exactly what I must do. I shall miss you all.’ I squeezed her hand, knowing it was Henley and herself I’d miss the most.

Eliza laughed. ‘We’ll come and visit you in the city. You must have an office. How exciting! To have your very own desk in your room—’

‘Indeed you must.’ I didn’t want to lie to my young friend, but had no choice.

Eliza paused and I sensed that she knew that something was wrong, but she didn’t say a word.

I tried to think what would happen after I left. Eliza, Henley and all the others would grow old. Henley would marry Christine and their hair would become speckled with silver as the years went by. Even Christine’s face would lose its youthful beauty, and maybe Henley would wind up with a walking stick like his father, but I … I would have to live for ever without the one thing I wanted more than life itself, and knew I couldn’t have. I closed my eyes, thankful that Eliza couldn’t see the pain in my face.

She nodded and rocked herself gently to and fro; we remained just so in the garden for a while, comfortable together in the silence.

A few uneventful days passed. I was quickly losing touch with this present reality as I prepared to leave it behind. I felt the detachment and sense of unrest growing within me more and more, and knew it was good that I’d be leaving soon. However, there was still no sign from Henley, so I had no idea when he’d decide the perfect moment had come to enact his plan – whatever it was. I hoped it would be soon – it was becoming harder and harder to disguise the pain and unease I felt.

I began taking meals regularly in the dining room with the group again. Henley genuinely looked merry when sitting by Christine, politely laughing at her feeble attempts at jokes, while Eliza’s eye-rolling betrayed her weariness after enduring too many years of her sister’s charade and brainless prattling.

I couldn’t help but notice a faraway, haunted look in Henley’s eyes from time to time, when he glanced away from Christine and in the direction of the study. I hoped I hadn’t burdened him too much, soliciting his assistance with my mission at this difficult time. No one else appeared to be aware of this unease within him, however, and it was only for fleeting moments that I could detect it. Surprisingly, he actually looked quite happy and at ease with Christine. The more I saw them together, the clearer it became that he’d made his decision. While I knew this must continue to play out, it was still somewhat disconcerting to witness the man I couldn’t deny I was still in love with carefree and smiling in the company of another woman.

I became more of a wallflower than I’d thought possible; keeping my comments to myself and usually just talking quietly with Eliza, and sometimes, of course, to Hannah and Nellie. I didn’t want anyone to realize how difficult I was finding it to remain in this time. One day, after nearly a week had passed since the funeral, the two maids were in my room, changing the linens as I sat at my writing desk, pretending to be busy, but really wondering when Henley was going to make his move so that I could leave. I knew my days were numbered with Christine here, and with Mr Beauford – the subject of my supposed article – now dead. Even if I could have borne the ever-intensifying pain, it would have been impossible for Henley to allow me to stay.

I heard Hannah clear her throat. ‘Miss Rebecca?’ she asked expectantly. ‘Will you be staying for the wedding, ma’am?’ I could tell by her voice she hoped that I would, and I knew I must hide the nausea churning in the pit of my stomach from these girls.

‘Oh, alas, I’m afraid not, Hannah. I’d like to,’ I lied through my teeth, ‘but I have to be getting back to my life as a journalist, you see.’ I made a show of straightening some papers on my desk. For some unknown reason, this appeared to give Nellie a cue to offer some opinions and gossip of her own.

‘Oh, but it’s bound to be a grand affair, Miss Rebecca,’ she enthused. ‘They’ve been betrothed for many years, you know, and when the two family fortunes are united by their marriage,’ and here she nodded knowingly at Hannah, ‘I believe our positions in their household will definitely be secure for as long as we want them.’

I smiled politely. ‘Yes, it’s been common knowledge for quite a while now that Christine and Henley will be married, isn’t that right?’ It was a rhetorical question, but I felt some comment was required of me. The girls simply nodded, and kept on with their tidying and chores.

Even though I felt more and more ill at the thought of Henley being with that air-headed heiress, I knew there was nothing I could or should do to stop it. I had to return to Miss Hatfield, and Henley had to get on with his life in his time. I knew the only other choice would be to stay with him and watch him slowly die; something I knew I couldn’t do, even if I found a way to stay – and I was becoming more and more convinced that Miss Hatfield had been right, and the universe was refusing to allow my existence in the wrong time to continue. I said a silent prayer to anyone who might be listening to please light a fire under Henley soon, to get the show on the road so I could move forward with my plans as well. I was beginning to feel like an insufferable inconvenience here, and I knew the servants, while fond of me, were also wondering why I hadn’t already taken my leave now that Mr Beauford had passed away.

That night at dinner, even though Henley and I hadn’t really spoken since that day in the garden over a week ago, he gave me a meaningful look and took out his pocket watch. I instinctively knew he was signalling me that the time was nigh, and wondered if it might be this very evening. I felt a rush of excitement at the thought. At last I could get back to someplace in the time continuum where my life was less complicated, with fewer emotional ups and downs hindering me.

Henley displayed his usual charm and made pleasant small talk with Christine and Eliza, but didn’t talk directly to me. When Christine excused herself to the ladies’ room, he got up from his seat, and as he walked by Eliza and myself he said, ‘Ladies, I bid you good evening. Rest well.’ And with another significant glance at me, he placed a small piece of folded paper beside my plate. I made sure Christine was still out of the room before opening it, and unfolded it slowly so as not to alert Eliza to anything unusual, but she was on the opposite side of the table, engaged in conversation.. It said: Everything is ready behind Thunder’s feed bin, under a blanket. H.

My heart fluttered in my chest. The time was finally at hand. ‘Excuse me, Eliza,’ I hurriedly said. ‘I need to go up to my room – I’m not feeling too well at the moment.’

She clucked her tongue in concern. ‘Tch, tch, Rebecca – I’m so sorry. Do go and have a good night’s sleep then, dear, and I’ll see you in the morning. You haven’t been sounding very well of late – perhaps you should see a doctor.’

I touched her shoulder. She was so kind, so bright and so brave. I knew I would miss her. ‘Thank you for understanding. I have been a little under the weather, but I was hoping nobody had noticed. I’m sure I’ll be fine. I hope you sleep well, too,’ I offered as I quickly exited and went upstairs. Nothing looked unusual in the hallway leading to the study, and I wasn’t sure what to expect next. All I knew was that the game was afoot, and I needed to be ready.

I quickly packed a small bag with the bare essentials I’d need for the ride back to the city, and placed it along with my cloak by the door where I could grab it at a moment’s notice. I lay down upon my bed, still fully dressed so that I could flee quickly whenever Henley’s master plan was set in motion. I closed my eyes, thinking I would only take a quick nap, and almost instantly went into a deep sleep.