Shadows of Madness

by Tracy L. Ward

  Margaret could almost feel the woman’s gaze burning into her skin, trailing her up and down as one would survey a farm animal for auction.

  “I’ve heard so much about you,” the woman remarked, pulling her hand back.

  Giles pressed his lips together in an awkward smile. “This is Miss Eloise Locke.”

  Margaret’s throat went dry. The woman, once just a name from Jonas’s past, was now staring her down. Eloise had been like a sister to him for many years before their relationship turned sour. Their connection was a convoluted one that began out of desperation before evolving into attachment and then love. There was no love for Eloise but rather her father, who had become as dear to Jonas as his own late mother. After they were abandoned by Jonas’s father, his mother began work with the Locke family. Mr. Locke was a chemist who saw to it that Jonas received adequate education and, seeing promise, encouraged his entry into medical school. Eloise was Mr. Locke’s daughter but as the years went by it was clear she saw herself as Jonas’s future wife.

  “How lovely it is to finally meet you,” Margaret lied.

  “Oh, we’ve met before,” Eloise said, “though perhaps not formally.” Her mouth twisted in a knowing smirk.

  Margaret tilted her head to the side slightly, confused. “I don’t recall.” Telling falsehoods did not come easy to Margaret. If she could have stricken their first meeting from memory she would have without regret.

  “At St. Thomas.” Eloise nearly giggled and turned her attention to Giles. “Margaret here happened upon Jonas and I in a rather compromising position. I was utterly mortified but Jonas did much to settle my fears. He told me Margaret is a benevolent and sweet woman. I see now how right he was in saying so.”

  The events of the day were not as innocent as Eloise would like everyone to believe. She had been using her position as the daughter of Jonas’s patron to force herself upon him, to strong-arm him into proposing marriage, something which Jonas had no desire to do.

  Eloise’s smile sent a slight shiver up Margaret’s spine. There were hints of challenge in her tone along with an undercurrent of animosity.

  “How kind of him to say such things,” Margaret said, working hard to conceal her disdain. “He told me he regards you as if you were his own sister.”

  Eloise laughed. “I dare say, we are a bit more dear to each other than that.” She tilted her head up, revealing an amused grin that Margaret recognized from many young ladies she had been forced to speak with over the years. It was the bravado of female youth, one conceived through large fortunes and even larger opinions of themselves.

  “Then you must be absolutely beside yourself given our current events,” Margaret said, knowing very well her words would only provoke further scorn.

  “Naturally. I can’t stop weeping.” She looked to Giles. “I only came to see if there is anything I can do for his comfort in that ghastly place.”

  “Peter is arranging for his release,” Giles explained, “or he had hoped to, in any case. I’m not sure how successful he shall be given the circumstances.”

  “You mean Jonas will be cleared of all charges?” Eloise looked genuinely delighted at the idea.

  Giles’s expression remained doubtful.

  “He will still be required to stand trial,” Margaret said, “unless the real murderer can be identified.”

  “Oh, listen to you, Miss Margaret, amateur detective for the Edinburgh Police.” Eloise laughed. “All ne’re-do-wells should be on the lookout now.”

  As should any woman who expects to coerce the man she loves into a loveless marriage, Margaret thought.

  An uneasy quiet slipped over them, forcing Margaret to think up a response quickly. “Have you visited him?” she asked sharply. “Your presence there will bring him comfort, don’t you think?”

  For the first time Eloise’s confidence waned but she regained her composure quickly. “I do not think they admit women to such a place; visitors, I mean.”

  “Oh, but they do,” Margaret said.

  Eloise looked to Giles, who shifted uncomfortably.

  “Miss Margaret visited Jonas last evening,” he explained, “without incident.”

  “Very well done,” Eloise said. “That settles it then, I shall go tomorrow, should my father allow. He is quite ill, you understand, and cannot be left for long periods of time.”

  Margaret did, indeed, understand. “Yes, of course.”

  Eloise took in a deep breath. “If there is anything further you need, Giles, don’t hesitate to send word. You as well, Margaret. I am your servant whilst you are in Edinburgh. Whatever you need, you shall have it.” She turned to leave, but stopped suddenly. “How long do you plan to stay in the city?”

  “I imagine until things have cleared up and Jonas is no longer in prison,” Margaret said.

  “Lovely. We shall work together then,” she said with a pasted smile, “to see what can be done.”

  Giles closed the door following her departure and turned to Margaret with an apologetic expression.

  “What an interesting woman,” Margaret said.

  “Yes, indeed,” Giles answered. “I suppose that’s why Jonas is so besotted with her.”

  Margaret tried to hide her smile. “Did he say as much or is she merely imagining things to be so?” A self-satisfied giggle escaped her before she could stop herself.

  Giles gave a look of confusion.

  Margaret watched as that confusion morphed into pity.

  “Forgive me for saying this, Miss Margaret, but I feel compelled in order to save yourself from further embarrassment.”

  Margaret’s amusement vanished.

  “Jonas has already asked for Miss Locke’s hand and she has accepted. You would do best to direct your attentions elsewhere.”

  Chapter 11

  Ainsley shielded Jonas as best as he could from the objects pelted at them from the crowd. There wasn’t an alternative entrance to Jonas’s lodgings and so they were forced to face the fray.

  “Murderer!”

  “Scoundrel!”

  “Lowlife!”

  “I shall meet with you both in the morning,” Thomas yelled above the raucous insults echoing from the crowd. Ainsley heard the carriage door clasp shut and the horse hooves drumming on the pavement.

  “Jonas, over here.” Ainsley spotted a break in the crowd and steered his friend there. He resisted the urge to pluck a half bruised apple from the house steps and return it to the crowd with considerable force. Within seconds they were in the safety of the foyer, shaking the potato peels and brown cabbage leaves from their coats. Ainsley used the heel of his palm to remove something wet from his jowl.

  “How long do you think that will last?” Jonas asked, looking past his friend to the window along the side of the door.

  Ainsley shook his head. He hoped not long.

  “Hello, brother.”

  Ainsley stopped suddenly and turned at the sound of Margaret’s voice. She was seated in the parlour, Giles in a chair at her side.

  “How—?” Ainsley looked to Jonas, who shared his disbelief. “You are supposed to be heading back to London today.”

  “And miss all the jubilation when Jonas’s good name is restored?” She stood and started making her way to Jonas, her hands knitted in front of her. Ainsley saw how her excitement was tempered and her approach filled with caution.

  Jonas exhaled and began rubbing at the back of his neck. “I wanted you far from here,” he said softly so only Margaret and Ainsley could hear. “This was the one time I needed you to do what you are told.”

  Ainsley winced internally, knowing Margaret would take offence.

  “Perhaps if I were told something instead of being tricked I might be more inclined to follow your lead,” Margaret said through gritted teeth.

  Ainsley turned to Giles. “Can you give me a few minutes to speak to my sister alone?”

  Giles bowed slightly before leaving the parlour. Ainsley entered the room and went to the window to
ensure the drapes were properly closed. When he turned he saw Margaret and Jonas had come further into the room but now stood on opposite sides.

  With her hands on her hips, Margaret’s gaze darted between them both. “Whose idea was it then?” She waved them off before giving them a chance to speak. “It doesn’t matter. It’s clear to me now that both of you would benefit from my prolonged absence.”

  “Margaret, be reasonable,” Ainsley said, stepping into the space between them. “Jonas feared for your safety—”

  “Am I not permitted to fear for his?” Margaret looked hurt beyond words. She raised a hand to her forehead and half hid her face. She closed her eyes to stop the tears. She took a moment to compose herself before speaking again. “I’m here now and I refuse to be shut out again.”

  Jonas turned to her. “Margaret—”

  Margaret’s gaze did not waver. She met his eyes squarely and without apology. “All day I believed it was Peter’s doing. Now I see the truth of it.” She rubbed her nose and gave a slight sniffle. “Your fiancée stopped by this afternoon,” she said, wiping away some tears from her lower eyelids.

  “My what?”

  “A Miss Eloise Locke.” Margaret let a disheartened smile touch her lips.

  “Whatever she told you, don’t believe her. We are not engaged.”

  Ainsley couldn’t believe the exchange he was witnessing. Part of him wondered if he should leave the room, but another part of him told him to stay to make sure Margaret was all right. In the end, he took a seat in one of the chairs and raised his hands to his face.

  “She wasn’t the one who told me,” Margaret corrected Jonas. “It was Giles who confirmed it.”

  “Giles?” Jonas looked startled by the accusation. “Margaret, the woman is—”

  The pocket doors to the dining room suddenly slid open on one side. Ezra gave an apologetic look before turning to pull back the second one. Beyond him the dining room table was set, complete with lace tablecloth and lit candles.

  “Mrs. Crane wished me to tell you supper is just about ready,” Ezra said.

  For a second Ainsley thought he had only been hearing things and then Mrs. Crane herself used her backside to push through the door from the kitchen into the dining room. She turned to the table, revealing a large platter in her hands.

  “Dr. Davies!” She set down the platter quickly and spread out her arms. “Oh!” She rounded the table and came straight for him with a wide smile. “I thought ye’d never come home!” She embraced him without a hint of hesitation. When she finally released him she turned her attentions to Ainsley, who stood dumbstruck a few paces away.

  “And I can say the same for you, Dr. Ainsley.”

  “Mrs. Crane, you are a ghost from days gone by,” Ainsley said with a laugh before wrapping his arms around her.

  “Oh, such a merry night we shall have now that ye both ’ave returned.” She turned to Jonas then, an erect finger pointed in his direction, “Ye, however, are not to be seated at my table until ye wash and change.”

  Jonas nodded in agreement, giving Margaret a pleading look before ducking from the room.

  Mrs. Crane pushed down the folds of her apron as she took in the others. “And for the rest of us, there shall be no talk of murders, or prisons, or other such things. For once we shall act as if we were bedfellows to decorum herself.”

  ***

  While they waited for Jonas to change his clothes, Ainsley and Margaret waited in the parlour, gathering their thoughts. Ainsley noticed Margaret’s valise set on the floor just outside the room and gestured to it. “You came here straight from the station, I see. Where is Elmira and Cutter?” Ainsley asked, clearing his throat.

  Margaret shrugged. “Halfway between here and London, I suspect.”

  “Margaret—”

  “I have just as much desire to see Jonas cleared of any wrongdoing as you. Why shouldn’t I take it upon myself to examine all avenues?” She turned from him and went for a chair set in the corner. “It’s a shame neither of you see the value of my presence.”

  “That simply isn’t the case,” Ainsley said. “Jonas hasn’t said much, but I know he genuinely fears for your safety.”

  “As I fear for his!” Margaret’s voice rose in frustration.

  Ainsley looked to the kitchen, wondering if anyone else in the house had heard. Margaret licked her lips before speaking again, this time with a more hushed tone. “I could never forgive myself if he went to prison and I did nothing to prevent it.”

  “Margaret, you don’t understand, someone has made it look as if Jonas did this. For some reason they want him to hang.”

  “You are the one who doesn’t understand,” she answered harshly, slipping to the edge of her seat. “That man will never see the inside of that prison again, not if I can do something about it.”

  “Don’t you see how whoever is after him could use you?” Ainsley shook his head, trying to banish the thought of his own love in a similar predicament. “His mother has passed. His father is long gone. No brothers or sisters. You are his only weakness.”

  “I am his strength.”

  The door of the kitchen opened suddenly and Ezra appeared, a stack of china plates in his grasp. “Everything is settled then,” he said as John and Mrs. Crane walked though. They fanned out around the dining room table setting the places. Ainsley counted enough to seat all of them, including himself and Margaret.

  “What’s settled?” Margaret asked, walking from the parlour to the dining room.

  Jonas appeared at the door to the parlour and looked on as he buttoned his vest.

  “You are both to stay here,” John said triumphantly. “Since Carl moved to Munich we haven’t been able to let his room.”

  Jonas smiled slightly at the thought.

  “It’s empty at the moment.” Ezra looked to John. “And there is another room we could use … in the attic.”

  “Molly stayed there,” John cut in, “before …” He glanced nervously to Ezra and then Jonas.

  “Perhaps Peter should take the attic room,” Jonas offered.

  Ainsley saw Margaret furrow her brow at the suggestion.

  “It’s fine, Jonas,” Margaret said decisively. “I’ll take the attic room.”

  Mrs. Crane looked up from the table. “Are you sure, Miss Margaret?” the housekeeper asked as she pressed out a crease in the tablecloth. “’Tis a mighty cold room at times, hotter than Hades in the summer. I would not like to see someone like yerself in such a room.”

  Margaret gave an unsteady look to Jonas before a look of determination flashed over her face. “I shall be quite all right. I’m not one to place myself above the hired help,” she said somewhat unconvincingly. “If it was good enough for Molly, then it is good enough for me.”

  Ainsley and Jonas exchanged doubtful glances.

  “It’s settled then,” Mrs. Crane said, her voice faltering slightly. “Dinner will just be another minute, my dears, as I bring everything to the table.”

  Mrs. Crane left the room first, only to have both Ezra and John follow quickly behind her. Ainsley saw a nudge and a shove as they pushed through the door side by side.

  Margaret raised her eyebrows at the sight. “They are both rather … odd,” she said.

  Ainsley nodded.

  “I believe because there is an eligible young lady in the house,” Jonas said.

  Ainsley leaned in so only the three of them could hear him. “Since I have known them neither has been very successful in the ways of wooing women. I see very little has changed.”

  Jonas nodded. “John would have more success if he could bring himself to leave his laboratory once in a while.”

  “And Ezra?” Margaret asked.

  A crash could be heard in the other room, followed by muffled shouts of outrage from Mrs. Crane.

  “He’s hopeless.”

  ***

  Dinner was a subdued affair. The buzz emanating from the pavement out front grew steadily, though no one look
ed to see if the size of the crowd grew. Ainsley had little doubt the evening editions of the papers had proclaimed Jonas’s release from prison and that many were drawn to their front door in the hopes of seeing the murderous professor, fallen from grace and now reviled by the entirety of the city.

  “This lamb is delicious,” John said, in an obvious effort to lighten the mood and encourage conversation.

  “I’ll make sure Mrs. Crane hears of your compliment.” Giles reached over his plate and pulled his wine glass to his mouth. He downed what was in his glass before looking around the room.

  Ainsley cleared his throat. “So tell me, how was it that you all decided to live together?” he asked.

  Jonas didn’t bother to lift his attention from the plate in front of him, leaving his flatmates to tell the tale.

  John searched the table and readied himself to speak before Giles cut in. “It was Frobisher,” he said curtly.

  The room fell silent at the mention of the murdered professor’s name.

  “He gave me the idea last year when this house became available to let.” He moved his tongue around the inside of his mouth before Ainsley realized it had formed into a deep scowl. “I asked John, Ezra, and Carl if they were interested in leaving whatever hole in the wall they were letting and come join me here.”

  “We all jumped at the chance, didn’t we, John?” Ezra asked.

  John nodded. “Jonas arrived a few months ago and Carl left for Germany shortly after that. It’s a wonderful arrangement, if you ask me. Imagine having a laboratory of my own at my age.” He smiled broadly before bringing a piece of meat to his mouth.

  At the opposite end of the table, Ainsley saw Giles tilting his wine glass to the side while staring at its empty state. A second later, Giles was on his feet and heading for the sideboard, where a new bottle sat waiting. “Would you like another, Miss Margaret?” he asked, walking around the table and pulling the cork.

  Margaret shook her head. “No,” she said. “Thank you.”

  Ainsley looked to his own glass, still full and without a single drop taken. It was a matter of will, he reminded himself. He must remain sober for as long as his addiction allowed. He was better sober, more alert and ready. He could think more clearly and respond to situations with better emotional stability. The relief brought by drink was only temporary, an illusion, he told himself; it made none of the hardships disappear.