by Rose Meddon
‘Time, you must understand,’ the woman continued regardless, ‘is an inexact ideal, existing within us and without, in many forms. The past, the present, the future, no one single notion of it can ever be entirely separated from the other two. For that reason, determining your future is straightforward.’ At this, Kate straightened herself up in readiness to remember what she was about to be told. ‘Choose a clear day and a quiet place. Calm your mind from its busyness. Then, look deep into your heart. Look first to your past, then to your present. From such honest examination will your future gradually emerge. Were you to beg me to guess at what you might see, I believe it would be two paths diverging in front of you. While both will seem within your grasp, you must beware, for, one of them, while promising much and glittering brightly, will bring only heartache. While you alone must choose which path to follow, I would offer to you this advice – consider both paths with equal care. Do not be too hasty to dismiss the one that is flat and even and well-trodden. Though you might crave a new direction – for it is only human nature to do so – the path that hints at the unfamiliar is littered with twists and turns. Its pull upon you will be hard to resist, its very foreignness hinting at great excitement. But know this, such paths are always slippery and wont to end suddenly and without warning, leaving you cast adrift far from all that you know.’ When Madam Sybil unexpectedly fell quiet, Kate shivered. That was it? She had finished? Seemingly aware of her quandary, Madam Sybil looked towards the rear of the tent. ‘That is all. Be about your business now, girl, but have a care, those by whose side you would walk may not be what they seem.’
When Madam Sybil rose to her feet, Kate had no choice but to do likewise. ‘Umm… thank you,’ she muttered, moving to the rear of the tent and feeling about for the open section of flap. Those by whose side you would walk may not be what they seem? What did that mean? More to the point, who did she mean by ‘they’?
While fumbling with the canvas, her hand unexpectedly met Ned’s fingers reaching in from the other side. In shock, she recoiled.
‘All right?’ he enquired, bending to look at her face, his expression one of mild amusement.
She nodded stiffly. ‘Yes. Thank you.’ But then, lest he attempt to suggest discussing what had happened, she hurried on, ‘But I’d best be getting back along. I can’t afford to be caught out here.’
‘Of course,’ he said, smiling and holding aside the canvas flap. ‘And I had best make a point of being seen back among our guests.’
Grateful to have avoided being grilled on what had happened, she took a few steps into the trees, where, for a moment, she simply stood in the darkness. She wished she could make better sense of what Madam Sybil had said. She hadn’t been expecting riddles; she had been hoping for guidance. On the bright side, she had learnt how to see her future. And it was pleasing to discover that she could take charge of her own destiny. But, at that precise moment, she was far too weary to do either. She would try it in the morning. Now, though, all she truly wanted was her bed.
Careful to remain away from the light of the torches, she took the long way back across the lawn, arriving at the corner of the house and flattening herself into the shadow against the wall. So far, so good. Now all she had to do was make it to the back door.
While she stood catching her breath, the stillness all around her was broken by the sound of scuffling, and then muffled voices, one of them seemingly female. Bother: someone was further along the path. But who? And what were they doing? It was hard to imagine two gentry folk pressed up against the wall like a sailor and a harlot but, with so much drunkenness about, who knew what might be going on? The problem was, to use another door brought the risk of being seen.
Preferring to wait and see what happened, momentarily, she remained where she was. Having let herself become so tense about seeing Sybil, not only did she now have a headache but also a sense of disappointment. To her credit, Sybil hadn’t seemed the least perturbed to have a servant-girl sitting before her. But to say that it hadn’t turned out how she had been hoping, was to grossly understate it.
‘Will you stop it!’
Startled from her reflections, Kate stiffened: the voice sounded like Miss Naomi’s. Puzzled, she peered in the general direction from whence it had come but, away from the glow of the torches, everything was utterly black. If it was Miss Naomi, was she in genuine distress? Or would she be embarrassing everyone involved by going to investigate? She tried to think what to do for the best. Surely, it had to be better to be safe than sorry.
‘Miss?’ she called, her enquiry leaving her lips as little more than a whisper and making her shake her head in exasperation; no one was going to hear a call as pathetic as that! She drew a breath down into her lungs. ‘Miss Naomi!’
‘Kate, oh, thank goodness. Do come and help me.’
Unable to see anything more than a few yards of path stretching ahead of her, she edged towards the sound of Naomi Russell’s voice. ‘Where are you, miss?’
‘Here. It’s Aubrey. He’s got me… trapped.’
Mr Aubrey? He was heavily built. She wouldn’t be able to fight him off. ‘I’ll go for help,’ she called over her shoulder and then sped away.
Haring back towards the terrace, she raced up the steps, only to arrive at the top and smack straight into a warm shirtfront.
‘Whoa! I say, Kate, is that you? You’re in a bit of a—’
‘Quick,’ she said, only then looking up to see that it was Mr Lawrence. ‘Quick,’ she said again, grabbing at his arm. ‘It’s Miss Naomi. She’s… Mr Aubrey, he’s—’
‘What the deuce?’ When she pointed back the way she had come, he sprinted ahead of her to the short flight of steps. ‘Down here?’
Catching up to him, she nodded. ‘Further along…’ How fortunate that of all the people into whom she could have run, it was Mr Lawrence. Now, whatever the fuss, no harm need come to Miss Naomi’s reputation.
‘Naomi?’
‘Miss Naomi?’
Above the sound of their calls came a heavy grunting and Miss Naomi’s muffled voice. ‘Thank God. Lawrence, please, get him off me!’
As they drew nearer, shapes became apparent. Pinned against the wall, with Aubrey’s head upon her shoulder, Naomi was one-handedly trying to push him away.
‘Good God, Aubrey, you fool, get off her – this very minute!’
When Lawrence grasped his brother’s arm to pull him away, Aubrey staggered heavily backwards, his arms flailing as he attempted to remain on his feet.
Naomi, breathing rapidly, rushed to Kate’s side. ‘Thank goodness you came. He was crushing me.’
Grasping Naomi’s outstretched hand and feeling how badly it was trembling, Kate blew out a long stream of breath. Apart from having slightly dishevelled hair, Naomi looked otherwise unharmed, Kate’s fear of finding her with her garments awry thankfully unfounded. ‘Are you all right, miss? Has he hurt you? Ought I to fetch Dr Fillingham?’
‘No, I’m not hurt – although no thanks to him. I heard the stitching of this dress rip and I think one of my stockings has laddered, but I don’t need Dr Fillingham. More than anything, I simply feel rather shaken.’ And then, turning to Lawrence, she said, ‘I’m so very grateful, Lawrence. Thank you.’
‘What happened?’ he asked her, still wrestling to subdue his brother. ‘Did he bring you down here?’
Naomi didn’t hesitate. ‘No, no. No, I realize now it was a stupid thing to do but, when I saw him heading towards me across the terrace, and when I saw how drunk he looked, my only thought was to give him the slip. He looked terribly unsteady on his feet and I didn’t think he’d go to the effort of following me. Unfortunately, he did. He came after me and… and lunged at me. That’s when I heard Kate calling.’
Pushing Aubrey with sufficient force that he stumbled backwards and fell to the ground, Lawrence moved to Naomi’s side. ‘Please tell me that he didn’t harm you, or so help me I’ll…’
Naomi Russell gave a little laugh. ‘No, he di
d nothing. Although his intention was plain enough. And, had he been sober, then I suppose the threat might have been rather more real. But no, he just pressed me up against the wall and tried to put his hands all over me.’
‘Good God. Whatever can have possessed him?’
‘Whisky, from the smell of him,’ Naomi Russell remarked.
‘Look, I should probably take him indoors and try to sober up him up before anyone sees him in this state. But I’ll only do that if you promise me you’ll let Kate take you inside, too.’
‘I’ll be fine, Lawrence, truly. I just need to compose myself and tidy up a little.’
‘Very well. If you’re sure. Kate, would you attend to her, please?’
Still holding Miss Naomi’s hand, Kate nodded. ‘I will, Mr Lawrence.’
‘Thank you. And I don’t suppose you could arrange for some strong coffee to be brought to… well, where would you suggest I take him – preferably where no-one will come across him just yet?’
‘The morning room would be quiet now,’ she said.
‘And Naomi, are you certain you’re all right? You wouldn’t prefer to have a quiet word with Dr Fillingham?’
‘Lawrence, please, I’m fine.’
‘All right.’
Unexpectedly, Kate felt herself warming to Mr Lawrence. She had always thought him the more pleasing to look at and the more gentlemanly of the two brothers but now, this evening, she had come to properly like him. Although authoritative, the way he gave instructions – without any hint of arrogance – made her want to do precisely as he said.
‘Come away inside, miss, and let me tidy you up. Then, if you like, you can come back down to the party and no one need be any the wiser.’
But, just as Naomi opened her mouth to answer, a growl, the like of which might more usually be expected from a wild dog, rose up from the form of Aubrey, until that moment in a heap on the ground where his brother had left him. His attention given over to Naomi, Lawrence had dropped his guard, so that as two arms wrapped around his throat, he was easily pulled to the ground.
With a yank of Naomi’s hand, Kate drew her beyond reach of the two sets of kicking boots.
‘Lawrence! Oh, Kate, do something!’
Do something? What would Miss Naomi have her do – wade in and break them up? ‘I’ll go and fetch help,’ she said, the idea slow to occur to her.
Leaving behind the struggling and grunting brothers, Kate ran back along the side of the house to stand at the top of the flight of steps, her eyes narrowed against the brightness. Hoping to see Ned, she scanned from left to right, but the nearest man was Ralph Colborne. Well, he would have to do. At least he was alone.
‘Mr Colborne, begging your pardon, sir—’
At her approach, Ralph Colborne blinked several times as though trying to focus his eyes. ‘What the devil…?’
‘—please, might you come with me? There’s a bit of a to-do and—’
He peered down at her. Oh, please, she willed, please don’t let him be drunk, too.
‘Who are you?’
‘Please, Mr Colborne, sir, there’s a fight. Your sons are fighting.’
Continuing to peer down at her, his expression didn’t change. What was the matter with the man? Was she no longer speaking the King’s English?
‘What, girl? What’s that you say?’
Oh, this was ridiculous! Of all the people she could have come across! ‘Sir, your son Aubrey is beating the living daylights out of your son Lawrence. Down there. Along the side of the house.’
‘Well, why the devil didn’t you say so?’ Finally, he started to move. ‘Down here, you say?’
‘Yes, sir.’
Even before they had drawn close, the sounds of scuffling and groaning alerted her that the skirmish continued.
‘Hie there, the pair of you. Get to your feet. This instant.’
Down on the ground, the two brothers gradually fell still. Then, each ignoring the other, they got slowly to their feet, Lawrence dusting down his clothes, Aubrey cursing and holding his ribs.
‘Are you all right, miss?’ Kate whispered to Naomi.
‘Fine, thank you. I’m fine.’
‘Take yourselves indoors, the pair of you,’ Ralph Colborne ordered his sons. ‘But do not go across the terrace. Find another way inside. I will not have you ruin Pamela’s evening. Nor will I have you bring disgrace upon your mother and me. Clean yourselves up and wait for me to come in and see you. In the meantime, you are to speak to no one. Do you hear me? Not to a soul.’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘Yes… sir.’
As Lawrence and Aubrey disappeared into the darkness, Naomi stepped forward. ‘Mr Colborne, please may I assure you that Lawrence’s only part in this was to come to my aid. Aubrey was the one who—’
‘Young lady, I suggest that you, too, say nothing of this. And you, girl,’ he said, turning to Kate, ‘for the sake of your employment, would be sensible to do likewise.’
‘Ralph? Ralph, darling, is that you? And did I hear you talking to Lawrence and Aubrey? Ralph?’
In despair, Kate exhaled a long sigh. It was Mrs Russell. And, from the sound of it, she, too, was on the drinky side of sober. Just what they didn’t need.
Turning stiffly aside, Ralph Colborne started towards her. ‘It’s all right, Pamela. It’s nothing. Just a bit of high-jinks between brothers. You know how young men can be once they’ve a tot or two inside them. A hot-headed disagreement, that’s all it was.’
‘And is that Naomi? Naomi? Is that you?’
‘Come along, my dear,’ Ralph Colborne coaxed, offering Pamela Russell his arm. ‘Let’s get you back to your guests, shall we?’
‘But what—’
‘Come along, that’s right.’
With Mrs Russell being led away, Kate felt Naomi’s grip on her fingers slacken. ‘That was close,’ she whispered. ‘We don’t need Mamma involved.’
To Kate, that felt like an understatement. ‘No, miss,’ she agreed.
‘He didn’t believe me, you know – Mr Colborne, I mean, when I tried to tell him what happened. Poor Lawrence, despite being blame-free, he’ll be reprimanded just as severely as his brother. Aubrey’s their favourite, their great son and heir. Well, he’s no better than an animal. And I shall make sure Mamma gets to hear of this.’
To her surprise, Kate started to shiver. ‘Perhaps we should get indoors, miss,’ she said. ‘You and Mr Lawrence know what happened, that’s the main thing. And Mr Aubrey, too, if he remembers come light of day.’
‘Yes, very well,’ Naomi agreed. ‘I suppose you’re right. Let’s go inside.’
When the two women arrived back at Naomi’s room and Kate lit another lamp, Naomi went to sit on her bed. To Kate, she looked rather forlorn.
‘There, miss. Now, shall I fetch out a new pair of stockings and take a look at your gown?’
‘You know, Kate, I think perhaps I have no wish to return to the party.’
Offering her a smile, Kate nodded. ‘I understand, miss. All that nerviness leaves you feeling drained, don’t it?’
‘Yes, I think that’s it. I feel quite exhausted – certainly too wearied for any sort of confrontation with—’
‘Naomi Russell!’
Together, the two women spun about to see the door shuddering on its hinges and Pamela Russell teetering in the empty frame.
‘Mamma—’
‘How… could you? How could you upset the Colbornes… of all people?’
Quickly, Kate stepped aside. And then, alarmed by the expression on Pamela Russell’s face, she backed further away still.
‘Upset them? Mamma, you weren’t there. You didn’t see—’
Having retreated all the way to the corner of the room, Kate didn’t know what to do for the best. Through her mind flashed thoughts of fetching someone to help, but when she’d done that earlier, it seemed only to have made matters worse. And anyway, unless instructed to the contrary, a maid was never supposed to interfere �
�� no matter the calamity. Besides, who on earth would want to try and reason with a woman in Pamela Russell’s state? Having taken several unsteady paces into the room, she had come to a halt and was now leaning for support upon the back of the easy chair.
‘Oh, that’s to be your claim, is it? You had nothing to do with… Lawrence setting upon Aubrey… and beating him black and blue?’
So many objections lay stuck to Kate’s tongue. Miss Naomi had done nothing wrong. And Mr Lawrence hadn’t set upon Mr Aubrey. It was quite the other way around. If Mr Aubrey was black and blue, then so had to be Mr Lawrence, Mr Aubrey having set upon him unprovoked. Seemingly, though, there was nothing she could do to make matters right. It wasn’t worth the risk of losing her job to argue with Pamela Russell.
‘Mamma, with the greatest of respect, I don’t know what Uncle Ralph said to you but it seems there’s been a mistake—’
When Pamela Russell raised an arm, apparently to wave away her daughter’s response, despite her feet appearing glued to the rug, the upper half of her body swayed. Her eyes seemed to be causing her distress, too – blinking far too frequently and flitting about the room. Strands of her hair had come unpinned and the heavy layer of foundation on her face had sunk, unflatteringly, into her wrinkles.
‘You do know… why I invited the Colbornes?’ she said. ‘You do know, why I went to all this trouble?’
Kate shot Miss Naomi a look of concern. What were they to do? Very shortly now, Pamela Russell was almost certain to collapse in a heap on the floor.
Naomi returned her look. ‘They are your old friends,’ she began uncertainly, at the same time taking a very small step towards the chair. ‘You’ve always said they are old family friends.’ She took another step, careful to make it small enough for her mother to remain unaware of her approach.
‘And they are. More than that, they are your way back into a life of… a life I gave up… to marry your father.’ Catching the look Miss Naomi gave her, Kate edged in the same direction. ‘But do you see that?’ Pamela Russell demanded. ‘Do you?’
For a moment, Naomi Russell stayed where she was. ‘Mamma, really, I—’
