The Midnight Rose

by Lucinda Riley

  ‘The two of them had many reasons to want to see you out of the way, Anni,’ said Selina, sighing. ‘Dr Trefusis was using you as his scapegoat, and my mother – well, we all know why she wanted rid of you.’

  ‘She came to see me a few days after Violet died,’ I mused. ‘She was terrified that now Violet was gone, Donald might go ahead and marry me as he’d originally planned.’

  ‘And if he’d lived, he may well have done so,’ Selina said, trying to comfort me. ‘He loved you so very much.’

  ‘And I him . . .’ My voice trailed off and I felt the panic begin to rise inside me at the thought of what I had lost. I knew I must steady myself to continue without becoming hysterical.

  ‘Selina, I must tell you that before your mother came to visit, I’d already decided I must leave Astbury forever. I understood that neither of us could ever have recovered from Violet’s death. But how could they find any proof that I had poisoned her?’

  ‘Anni, do you remember Dr Trefusis visiting you once to take cuttings of the plants and herbs you grew?’

  ‘Why yes. He said he was interested in discovering more about their medicinal properties.’

  ‘Sadly,’ said Selina, ‘the good doctor took some cuttings not only of innocuous herbs, but also specimens that are apparently renowned to be dangerous, especially in pregnancy. And he took these to the police as evidence. One was Penny Royal, a species of mint that has been proved to be harmful to a pregnant woman. On that day of Violet’s death, you brought her a remedy you had made yourself for her swelling ankles and fed her mint tea to stop her nausea.’

  ‘Oh my God.’ My hand went over my mouth and my eyes involuntarily filled with tears. ‘Yes I did, but not Penny Royal! Just ordinary, plain mint leaves, which also grow in my garden. Selina, I have studied Ayurvedic medicine since I could walk. Penny Royal can normally be drunk in a tea safely in small amounts. It grows wild in Devon and is very good for treating colds and influenza. But of course I’m aware of how dangerous it can be to a pregnant woman. It can cause premature birth, fits, bleeding . . .’ My voice trailed off as I realised how well it all fitted.

  ‘Anni, please, try not to upset yourself. We all know you’d do nothing to harm anyone,’ said Indira, trying to comfort me.

  ‘And to make matters worse,’ Selina continued, ‘Dr Trefusis was able to produce a paper written by an eminent professor in America. It gives specific details on the damaging effects of Penny Royal to pregnant women. Dr Trefusis also produced a sample of Black Cohosh root, another herb considered dangerous in pregnancy. One of the kitchen staff said you’d given her a tea of it to drink recently.’

  ‘Yes, because it’s very good for rheumatism!’ I could feel my heart pounding.

  ‘So, the police went to your cottage and saw that indeed you did cultivate these and other herbs in your greenhouse and garden,’ said Selina.

  ‘But surely even with the cuttings from my garden, there could be no proof I had actually given them to Violet?’

  ‘Dearest Anni, please try not to be naive,’ Indira shook her head in exasperation. ‘Really, nothing more was needed. Maud Astbury reigns like a queen locally and holds the authorities in the palm of her hand. Violet was dead, and if Maud decided she wanted someone charged with her murder, the local police would see to it immediately, no matter how limited the evidence.’

  ‘Yes.’ I sighed helplessly. ‘I suppose I can see that. So how were the charges dropped?’

  ‘I immediately went to confront my mother and begged her to convince the police to drop the charges. She wouldn’t hear of it; she said it was out of her hands and that justice must be done.’ Selina grimaced. ‘Anni, I must tell you that I lost control that day. I’m afraid I said exactly what I’d wanted to say to her for years; that she was a bitter, bigoted, selfish woman and that as far as I was concerned, she was dead in my eyes, just like my poor brother. I told her I’d never come to Astbury again as long as she was alive.’

  ‘So that was when Selina contacted me.’ Indira took up the story. ‘And, thankfully, my mother is much more intelligent and has friends in far higher places than Maud,’ she explained with a glint of triumph in her eyes. ‘I believe it only took one telephone call to make sure the charges were dropped. The only stipulation was that you must return to India and never go back to England again.’

  ‘I see. What about the Drumners? Do they still believe I murdered their daughter?’

  ‘I think they have enough troubles of their own,’ said Selina. ‘Sissy is not at all well, but even so, they insisted their granddaughter should return to New York to live with them. My mother, of course, refused, saying that Daisy must remain at Astbury Hall under her care, as she was the legal heiress. They returned to New York ready to launch all kinds of court battles to win custody of their granddaughter.’

  ‘So that poor little baby might be brought up by Maud?’ I said in horror.

  ‘Almost certainly,’ said Selina. ‘After all, baby Daisy is a British citizen and even the Drumners’ vast resources are unlikely to help them win custody of her. I begged Mother that dreadful day to give Daisy to me so that I could bring her up in my nursery with her cousins, but, of course, she wouldn’t hear of it. She has already moved back to Astbury Hall, once more in control of her kingdom, with free rein to fashion the next generation in her own form. I haven’t seen her so full of energy in years,’ Selina said bitterly.

  The three of us sat in silence, and I felt sick to my stomach. Maud Astbury had destroyed one generation and now had been handed the power to destroy another.

  ‘I always thought she was mad as a hatter,’ said Indira with a smile, ever eager to lighten a dark atmosphere.

  ‘You may be joking, but I think you might be right,’ said Selina. ‘It was there in my mother’s eyes when we were talking. Something that looked like actual madness.’

  ‘She is the devil incarnate,’ I muttered, shuddering. ‘I do apologise, Selina,’ I said quickly.

  ‘Please, say what you wish,’ she comforted me. ‘I can assure you that I feel exactly the same. So much so that Henri and I have decided that we’ll move to France with the children permanently. I don’t even wish to be in the same country as her.’

  ‘Witches can’t cross running water at least,’ I said with a glimmer of a smile.

  Selina glanced at the clock on the mantelpiece. ‘I’m so sorry, but I must leave now. I beg you, Anni, keep in touch with me. If you have an opportunity, please come and visit us in France. Where will you both be heading once you reach India?’

  ‘My parents’ palace in Cooch Behar to begin with,’ replied Indira. ‘Ma is desperate to see poor Anni, and it means I don’t have to return to the zenana at my husband’s palace for a while longer.’ She gave Selina her cheeky grin.

  We stood up and Selina wrapped her arms around me. ‘I’m so terribly, terribly sorry for the pain you’ve suffered. I’m sure that, wherever he is, Donald and your little one are looking down at you and loving you.’

  ‘Thank you, Selina, for everything,’ I whispered. As she walked towards the door, I knew I had to ask the question that had been assiduously avoided by all of us since she had arrived.

  ‘Selina, where is my son buried?’

  She stopped at the door, took a breath and turned round. ‘I asked the same question when I arrived back at Astbury. Anni, the villagers and servants are unaware of Moh’s death. They have been told he went with you when you were arrested. My mother obviously didn’t want it known that Donald had died riding over to the cottage to rescue his own son. The only other person who knows the truth is Dr Trefusis, who told me that Moh had been discreetly laid to rest in a corner of the parish church in the village. When I subsequently visited, there was fresh earth on a grave, but the priest told me that when he performed the burial and enquired whether a headstone was needed, Dr Trefusis said it wasn’t required. The vicar was told the child had died at birth and had no name. I’m so sorry, Anni,’ she said, her eyes full of tears.


  ‘Even in death, his existence had to be a secret,’ I whispered.

  ‘I know it’s no consolation, but he’s buried in a very tranquil spot, Anni. I placed some beautiful roses on his grave for you. I know you’re of a different religion, but I hope that was right. I . . . there are no words to describe how terrible this must be for you, Anni. I’m so very sorry.’

  I felt for her then, desperately stumbling over the words in order not to hurt me further. She was a mother too.

  ‘Thank you, Selina. What you did was perfect.’

  ‘I’ve also given Indira a copy of Moh’s death certificate signed by Dr Trefusis,’ she added. ‘Goodbye, Anni, take care.’

  As she left, I saw the concern on Indira’s face. I knew she was fearful that facing the reality of my dead child might break me again. After all, it was the first time I’d mentioned the subject.

  ‘I’m going upstairs to rest,’ I said to her.

  ‘Anni, are you all right?’

  ‘Yes,’ I reassured her and left the drawing room.

  Looking back, as I climbed the stairs and entered the peaceful sanctuary of the bedroom where Indira had nursed me back to life, I realised that I was indeed calm.

  But why?

  As we left England’s shores two days later, and the terror and pain of the past few weeks began to drop gradually away from my befuddled brain, I realised.

  I knew then that I’d heard the singing for Donald on that last night we spent together. But never for you, Moh. On that last morning, just before the police arrived, when I’d laid you down in your cot for your nap and kissed you on your forehead as I always did, I’d neither felt nor heard anything.

  Every night when I stood on deck and asked those above for guidance, I listened for the voices that would assail my senses when someone had passed over, just as they had done for both Violet and Donald, yet I could hear nothing for you.

  Just before we docked, Indira – who had taken my newfound calm as acceptance – handed me two envelopes one evening before dinner.

  ‘Open that one first,’ she said encouragingly, pointing to the smaller one.

  I did so, and inside my fingers recognised the cool, silky texture of the pearls Donald had given to me.

  ‘They were with your clothes when we left the prison, but I thought it might upset you too much to see them. Can I help you with the clasp?’ said Indira as I pulled them out of the envelope.

  ‘Thank you.’ Feeling their weight around my neck once more comforted me, and my fingertips reached to touch them as they had done so many times before.

  Indira indicated the other envelope. ‘In there is a photograph of you and Moh. And also his death certificate, Anni. I thought you’d want to keep it.’

  I paused for a moment before I answered. I smiled to myself. ‘Thank you, Indy. But I don’t need his death certificate.’

  ‘I understand,’ she said sympathetically.

  ‘Because my son isn’t dead. I know he still lives.’

  Astbury Hall, July 2011

  42

  Rebecca laid down the pages and glanced at the clock by her bed. It was past midnight. She stared out into the dimly lit room, feeling her heart still pumping fast with adrenaline.

  Violet Astbury had given birth to a child exactly where she, Rebecca, was lying now. Violet had been a perfectly healthy woman in her twenties, who had complained of headaches and nausea, and had subsequently died.

  ‘Stop it!’ Rebecca whispered to herself as she felt her panic rising. ‘Violet died in childbirth!’ She stood up and paced the bedroom, talking to herself to try to calm down. ‘You’re not pregnant, for God’s sake, Rebecca . . .’

  But then she remembered the doctor asking her if she could be, and that she was still waiting to hear the results of her tests. She burst into tears of fear and frustration. Even if her imagination was running away with her, one thing was for sure; she couldn’t stay in this room which was so full of Violet and her tragedy a minute longer. Shivering with panic, Rebecca decided she would go in search of Ari.

  She tiptoed out of the suite and walked along the shadowy corridors, knocking softly then opening each of the doors as silently as she could, trying to survey the darkened interiors. They seemed to all be empty along her corridor, so she walked across the landing, past the main staircase, and began quietly opening doors on the other side of it.

  Then a sudden, familiar sound assailed her ears. It was very faint, coming from some distance, but it was the same high-pitched singing she’d heard in her dreams. Terrified now, but knowing she had to confront whoever it was making the strange sound which Anahita had described as a warning of death, Rebecca began to walk towards it.

  She halted in the dark corridor. The singing was emanating from behind the door she now stood in front of. Using every ounce of her courage, her fingertips touched the doorknob and she turned it silently, then pushed it forwards a couple of centimetres.

  Rebecca peeped through the crack and into the room. A soft light glowed inside, and to her left she could make out a figure sitting in front of a mirror. Opening the door wider, Rebecca could see the figure was sitting at a dressing table, brushing her long, blonde hair, singing to herself as she did so. Even from this distance, she could smell the summery scent of the perfume that had pervaded her bedroom at night – Violet’s perfume. Rebecca pushed the door a little further to try to see the woman’s face in the mirror, and the singing stopped abruptly. Something had alerted the woman to her presence.

  As her head began to turn towards the door, Rebecca fled away along the corridor, her breath coming in short, sharp bursts. Almost back in the sanctuary of her room, a figure stepped suddenly out of the darkness and caught her as she ran.

  Rebecca screamed out loud as the arms gripped hers and pulled her through the door and into her bedroom.

  ‘Hush! It’s me, Ari,’ he said as she continued to struggle out of his arms, gulping for air and moaning from shock. ‘Rebecca, what on earth has happened? What’s frightened you? Please, try to calm down,’ he said as she leaned her hands on the bed and bent forwards trying to slow her breathing.

  ‘Ari, please, you have to get me out of here . . . I think I’m being poisoned, like Violet, and I just saw a strange woman sitting in a bedroom, brushing her hair and singing. I –’ Rebecca took some more gulps of air to enable her to continue. ‘I don’t know whether she’s alive or a ghost, but I saw her, Ari, I swear. And I know she’s been to my room when I’ve been sleeping . . . oh God . . . Violet died in here!’ Rebecca collapsed onto the floor. ‘Ari, you have to get me out of here, now, tonight! I’m so frightened, I’m so frightened,’ she whimpered.

  Tentatively, Ari knelt down next to her.

  ‘Rebecca, I understand you’ve just had a shock, that you’re still unwell and perhaps have a fever, which can produce all sorts of hallucinations and—’

  ‘No! I saw her with my own eyes and heard her with my own ears. Please, Ari,’ she begged, ‘you’ve got to believe me. I’m not going mad. That woman was real!’

  ‘Okay,’ Ari said, ‘I believe you. So, let’s think about this rationally. This is an enormous house, with goodness knows how many bedrooms, and it may be that Anthony has a guest staying with him. I mean, he wouldn’t necessarily tell us, would he?’

  ‘Yes, but I’ve felt her and heard her before,’ Rebecca said insistently, ‘and sometimes at night in here, I can smell the perfume that she wears – that Violet used to wear. If there is another woman in this house, she’s been here for some time. But why wouldn’t we have seen her, and why has she been into my bedroom at night? I know she has, Ari. I’ve been so ill in the past week, these terrible headaches I’ve had, and nausea, just like Violet. I swear, someone is trying to kill me. I just want to get out of here!’

  ‘Rebecca –’ Ari watched her shoulders heave with fear and emotion – ‘I completely understand that, having read Anahita’s story this evening, you’d find some of the comparisons between you and
Violet strange. But there’s absolutely no logical way that your presence here could have been engineered by someone who meant you harm. The fact that you’ve been sick hasn’t helped, but I think you’re letting your imagination run riot. Please, Rebecca, trust me. What I’m telling you makes sense.’

  ‘I don’t care what makes sense, Ari, I want to leave this house,’ she sobbed, ‘and I want to leave it now.’

  ‘I hear you, Rebecca, but you know all the hotels around here will be closed for the night. It’s almost one o’clock in the morning. I’m sure you can move tomorrow.’

  ‘My God,’ Rebecca groaned, ‘I don’t even have a lock on my door, anybody could walk in and—’

  ‘Rebecca,’ Ari said patiently, ‘do you feel safe with me? I mean, do you trust me?’

  She considered this. ‘I guess tonight I don’t know whom to trust.’

  ‘Well, what I’m going to suggest is that I stay next door in the sitting room for the rest of the night. What you need more than anything else is some sleep.’

  ‘Jesus Christ, if another person tells me that, I think I really will go insane,’ Rebecca said with a sigh.

  ‘Even if they’re right?’ Ari smiled at her. ‘Shall I help you up?’

  ‘No, I can manage,’ she said as she hauled herself shakily to standing and walked towards the bed. ‘And yes, I’d be grateful if you’d sleep on the sofa next door.’

  ‘My pleasure. Goodnight, Rebecca.’

  ‘Thank you. Sorry if you think I’m behaving like a wimp.’

  ‘That’s okay. It’s understandable.’

  ‘Ari?’

  ‘Yes?’ He paused by the door and smiled at her.

  ‘Tomorrow, I want to ask you some questions about your great-grandmother’s story.’

  ‘Of course, but for now, Rebecca, get some sleep.’

  Rebecca woke with a start the following morning, feeling disoriented. Remembering what had happened last night, she climbed out of bed immediately, ran to the sitting room and saw that it was empty. Leaving the bedroom, she ventured out into the corridor and walked along it.