The Mistresses of Wistmere: A Neo-Gothic Novel

by Rachel Secor

  The tea was poured in silence. He didn’t raise his eyes again to Katherine. Instead he turned to May-Jewel and abruptly said, “Ye bed chamber be ready,” and left the room.

  Perplexed and hurt over the old man’s reaction, Katherine watched Charles leave. Welcome home, she thought crestfallen. The servant’s cold censure matched the atmosphere of the manor and robbed Katherine of the recognition and respect that she craved. Acceptance was important, even from Charles. Endearing memories of the armored knight of her childhood played through her mind. He had been more than a friend whose shoulder she had often cried on. He had been more like a father. She held back the tears.

  Just then Charles was back in the doorway. “Excuse me. I’m announcin’ the vicar.” And he stood aside to let the gentleman enter.

  “Ah, Vicar Hawes,” Alex greeted, his hand extended as he approached the newcomer.

  “Mister Fleming,” the young man said, shaking his hand. He then noted the two women, and he smiled.

  “Welcome.” Alex continued, “We’re glad of the company.” He directed the vicar into the room. “May I introduce the new heiresses of Wistmere, Mistress May-Jewel Belwood from Boston and our own Mistress Katherine St. Pierre.”

  The vicar bowed first to May-Jewel and when he bowed to Katherine, he caught the look of sadness on her face, her eyes glistening unnaturally with unshed tears. “How do you do?” he said. “I am most pleased to meet you.”

  Katherine looked up into the darkest brown eyes she had ever seen, the darkest and the most open, the most approachable. His lips were parted in a pure and innocent smile as if he were delighted with life and the introduction to her. He stood before her, his hair, like bits of twisted wheat colored yarn, played about his temples and danced down his forehead. A smile involuntarily crossed her somber features, and she extended her hand in greeting. Her heart skipped a beat, and she forgot the pain of the past moment.

  Filling his glass again, Alex asked, “So what brings you here, David? Curiosity?”

  “Alexander!” May-Jewel reprimanded while Katherine frowned at his lack of deportment.

  But David Hawes brushed the comment lightly aside, saying, “I was just passing. I’ve been to the family that lives south of the estate. John Mackey found a foreign child out on the moor. She’s desperately ill.”

  Alex motioned for David to take a seat. “And I hope you left her feeling better.”

  “Thank you,” he replied sitting across from Katherine. “Unfortunately, I’m afraid that there was little, beyond prayer, I could do for her.”

  Katherine started to make a sympathetic remark, but Alex cut in.

  “Care for a drink?”

  “No, thank you. I only stopped by to pay my respects and to welcome the ladies to Lanarkshire. I hear that,” he directed to May-Jewel, “that this is your first time in Scotland.”

  “Why, yes.” It didn’t matter to her how the gentleman had heard she was there. She was just pleased that he had, and she gave him her brightest smile.

  But David’s attention was already elsewhere. “And that you, Mistress St. Pierre, were born here. It must have been a wonderful childhood.” Then he saw her smile fade and darkness flash across her face, like a door closing to him. He withheld further comment, wondering how to correct his apparent faux pas.

  “Of course it was!” agreed Alex quickly, ignoring the looks of concern on their faces. “After all, this is Wistmere!”

  The woman’s features transformed from openness to guardedness and, sensing that Alex was wrong in his assessment, Vicar Hawes moved beyond remarking about her childhood and said instead, “I heard that you’ve recently come from Edinburgh. Had you lived in that city long?”

  Katherine wasn’t sure whether to answer him for her guard had indeed been raised. Then, as she felt there wasn’t any need to remain so private, certainly not from a servant of God, and one who appeared to have asked honestly and good-naturedly, she replied quietly, “I’ve lived there since I was eight, when I was first sent to school.” Noting his sincere interest and the inviting twinkle in his eyes, she relaxed a bit and started to tell him more, how, even though she started primary school three years late, she excelled and then continued into secondary school.

  “Was that the Leith Wynd School?” he asked.

  “No, it was a private school.”

  “Oh, of course.”

  Unable to believe that she was now being totally ignored by both men, the vicar to Katherine and Alex to drink, May-Jewel, interrupted, “Yes, yes. We’ve all been to school. Now Mr. Hawes is there a Mrs. Hawes on whom we might call later in the week?” She batted her eyelashes.

  “Oh, no, I’m not married,” he answered, then brought his attention back to Katherine. “It would be an honor to show you the vicarage. We have quite an extensive library.” Then not wanting to appear rude by excluding May-Jewel, he added, “Perhaps Mistress Belwood and you would like to visit to see what volumes we own. We lend books to those parishioners who know how to read.”

  May-Jewel rolled her eyes, but answered, saying, “That sounds lovely. However, Alex and I have made plans to go riding, if it doesn’t rain.” She looked over at Alex to see if he had understood the ploy to get her out of a boring trip to a dusty, old library. But Alex didn’t answer her. He had gone sullen and quiet, staring into the fireplace. “I’ve noticed that it rains a lot here.” She continued trying to hide her embarrassment as it didn’t seem as if Alex had even heard her. “The rain plays havoc with my hair.” She brought her hands, cupping the curls around her face.

  They all fell silent, and the silence became strained. No one was sure how to begin another line of conversation.

  Feeling the awkwardness of the moment acutely, Vicar Hawes rose. “I must be getting back to the manse. I have… some papers to copy.”

  Rising, Alex bowed, almost losing his balance in the process. The ladies rose as well.

  “It was nice to meet you both,” David said, moving toward the door. “I hope to see you again soon.”

  Nodding, May-Jewel resumed her seat.

  Katherine, disappointed that the vicar had to leave so soon, moved ahead of him. “Allow me to accompany you to the door. It was very thoughtful of you to stop by,” she said as she headed for the entrance. “I would like very much to see your library. Perhaps we will drop by tomorrow. That is if the invitation still stands, and you’re at home.”

  “I don’t recall any prior commitments and look forward to your visit,” he answered affably. He paused, not knowing what to say but knowing that he wanted to say so much more.

  Reaching the entrance door, Katherine opened it and stood aside to let him exit. “Thank you again for coming, and I look forward to seeing you again soon.” She blushed, realizing how bold that sounded.

  “As do I.” He stepped out into the evening and, hoping to continue the conversation, turned back again. But he saw that the moment was lost, for she had already closed the door.

  Coming back into the sitting room, Katherine took her seat, her mind replaying David Hawes’ visit. She liked his openness and the kindness of his smile. His build was slight, and he had a small clef in his chin. His face was oval and his light sandy hair fell around it boyishly. The vicar, she decided, was someone she would like to get to know. She smiled to herself. Then May-Jewel’s voice suddenly broke through her reverie.

  “When will we be able to hire more servants?” she inquired of Alex. “I hate having to dress myself. It’s very awkward.”

  “There isn’t any money for more servants,” Alex answered, his eyes still on the fire.

  “Oh, of course there is!” May-Jewel exclaimed, elated over the prospect of a new challenge. “And I shall hire many to make Wistmere what it once was. There has to be money for that!”

  Katherine sighed then said, “Really, May-Jewel, it would be wise to learn about the financial affairs of the estate before we go spending money we may not have.” She paused recalling the maid who had appeared to her befo
re dinner. “But now that the subject of servants has been brought up, Alexander, tell me of the maid who was sent to my room earlier this evening.”

  His eyebrows rose in question as he looked at her. “What maid?”

  “The handmaid, Selina. Where is she from? English is obviously not her mother tongue. How long has she been in Scotland?”

  Exasperation covered Alex’s face as he poured another drink. “I’ve no idea of whom you are speaking. As for any handmaid, I’ve already told you that the estate hasn’t been financially able to support a full staff, let alone personal maids. However, I’ll say it again, for the third time. There is the stableman, Brice,” he started in a monotone voice, counting on his fingers, “who, having only three horses and a few sheep to care for, also cares for the gardens. There’s the manservant, Charles, whom you’ve already met, though at times I wonder how he’s even able to function as he’s so old and addle-brained, and lastly there’s the cook.” He held up his three fingers before her as if she were a child. He was weary of being charming and of having to always say the right thing in front of the women for fear of offending them. He was especially weary of Katherine’s stone expression and wished she’d just leave. Hoping to get her to do just that, he added, “I think you’re suffering delusions of grandeur. It’s probably the cook who came to you. If you want to know more about her, ask Charles.”

  But Katherine wasn’t to be dismissed so easily. She knew that something wasn’t right. The woman Selina was much too small to lift the heavy iron pots so vital to a cook’s position. No, Katherine was sure that the woman who came to her room wasn’t the cook. “I don’t suffer delusions of any kind,” she snapped. “There was a small, dark woman in my quarters earlier this evening. If she’s the cook, then what was she doing in my bed chamber offering to help me dress?”

  “Wait,” May-Jewel interjected with a pout, “you have a maid?”

  “No! All I know is that this woman came into my room. She said she was there to assist me. So what was she doing there if she isn’t a handmaid?

  “I don’t know,” Alex retorted, suddenly intolerant of Katherine and her questions. He barely restrained himself from voicing the caustic remark that lay on the edge of his tongue but, he reminded himself, he would have to watch his manner toward her if he had any chance of winning her over. Alex put his drink down. Easing the lines of irritation from his face, and sitting himself beside her, he enfolded her hands into his. “Maybe you should call it a night. After all, it has been a trying day, all that traveling,” he said. “Sometimes tiredness pushes a woman’s mind beyond reality and into the realm of imagination. Imagination is very far from reality.”

  As Alex’s condescending and patronizing words filled the room, Katherine wanted to slap his liquor-flushed face. But such impulsiveness wasn’t a part of her. Instead, she calmed the erupting rage that seethed within, pulled her hands from his, and gracefully rose from the sofa. “Perhaps you’re right,” she coolly replied, moving toward the door. “It is time for me to retire.”

  As Katherine walked to the door, May-Jewel hurriedly followed her. “How insulting,” she whispered. “He has questioned your sanity and spoke to you as if you were a child! I would have slapped him if he had spoken that way to me!”

  Katherine took a deep breath and then responded, “Shall I challenge him to a duel?”

  “I only meant…”

  “I know what you meant,” Katherine sighed, seeing the flush of embarrassment on May-Jewel’s face, “and your concern is touching.”

  “Don’t go yet, Katherine.” She touched her sister’s arm. “I think we should stay a little longer. I’m sure Alex didn’t mean it how it sounded.” But she could see that Katherine wouldn’t be persuaded to stay any longer as she turned to leave. So she added, “Alex knows more about this place than we do and right now we need him. If you apologize, I think we can get him to discuss the manor’s finances. The sooner we learn about them, the sooner we can dispense with him altogether. Isn’t that what you want?”

  For a moment, Katherine simply stared at May-Jewel then, wordlessly, she shook her head and walked away.

  * * *

  Prismatic crystals on the suspended chandeliers over the great hall sent a profusion of haloed light up the staircase. But the light didn’t follow Katherine down the shadowy expanse of the hallway, and, in her anger, she hadn’t taken a candle when she left the sitting room. As she moved slowly down the corridor, she wondered about the lack of illumination. Hadn’t the lamps in the hall been lit when she came down for dinner? A low mournful sound coming from the end of the corridor suddenly interrupted her thoughts. But the movement of her gown muffled the noise, and when she stopped walking, she no longer heard anything.

  “Charles is that you?” she whispered. Her heartbeat roared in her ears as she inched forward. A rush of cold air swept down the hallway, siphoning the warmth from her body, and she trembled. The strange sound came again, closer this time. Lost in the darkness, she inched along the wall until she reached what she was sure was her chamber. With her heart in her throat, she rushed into the light of her room, shot the iron bolt into its sleeve, and leaned against the security of the door.

  Old houses make noises, she told herself, and perhaps Alex is right, that tiredness has fired my imagination. It’s only the wind pounding the loose windows, nothing more. Hurriedly disrobing and putting on her nightgown, Katherine slipped under the covers of her bed. The events of the day coursed through her mind. Glancing around the fire-lit room, it suddenly came to her that someone had prepared the room by drawing all the drapes and adding wood to the fire. Could it have been Selina? Katherine tried to stop thinking of her. Twice that evening, she had allowed herself to become flustered over the fact that the strange maid was here, and it seemed she wasn’t supposed to be. Alex had mentioned that the only female was a cook had been hired by Charles. She decided to meet with Charles in the morning and discuss this matter with him, along with his cold behavior toward her. Katherine’s eyes became heavy watching the blue-orange flames dancing on the logs in the fireplace. The eerie rhythm of the wind sweeping over the fields and thoughts of the vicar wooed her to sleep.

  * * *

  Alex, happy over Katherine’s abrupt departure, poured himself yet another drink and waited for May-Jewel to return to the sofa. “I didn’t think she’d ever leave. How do you put up with her? Would you care for another glass of wine?”

  May-Jewel shook her head. “Why did you antagonize her?”

  “So that you, the rightful heir of Wistmere, and I could talk without her scornful frown questioning everything we say.”

  “Katherine is as much an heir to Wistmere as I am.”

  “Now you don’t really believe that, do you? You are the lady, the one with that certain bearing that tells people that they’re dealing with the mistress of a great manor and not with a former governess.”

  May-Jewel was pleased that Alex considered her so highly. She smiled and concluded, Alex might just be right. Technically Katherine is no more than a nanny. It takes a man like Alex, a man of distinction, to see me in my proper place in life and to know that I was born to be an heiress and the mistress of this great manor house. But then she considered Katherine again and how they’d become more like sisters in the past few days. Not wanting to cut Katherine out of the scene completely, May-Jewel said to Alex, “It’s nice that you think I’m qualified to fill the role of mistress. But I’ll need help running the manor and can use Katherine’s level-headedness.” The sleeve of her gown slipped off her shoulder, exposing its soft whiteness.

  “Dear lady,” Alex said, moving closer to her, his eyes on her shoulder, “who is more qualified than I to assist you with the running of Wistmere? This manor is my second love, and I know every board and beam of her. All you have to do is sign a document making me the executive director of this estate, and you wouldn’t have to bother your pretty head about all those boring, time-consuming details of business. And I have ju
st such a document with me.”

  May-Jewel, not wanting to discuss anything as serious as business now, answered teasingly, “If Wistmere is your second love, then what or who is your first?”

  Alex moved closer, took up her hand, and pressed it to his lips. Then he whispered in her ear, “A most beautiful mistress, of course.”

  A quiver ran down her arm and rushed to join the tingling sensation in her fingertips as he kissed each one.

  He felt her response. “We would be so good together. We should be partners.”

  “I… I don’t know, Alex.” At that moment a part of her didn’t want to deny him anything and the idea of besting Katherine did amuse her. Yet she couldn’t bring herself to say ‘yes’.

  Before another word could escape her lips, Alex crushed her to his chest and pressed his mouth to hers. Her trembling heart soared. He slipped his hand over her shoulder and along her back. But May-Jewel pulled away, halting the wave of passion that threatened to consume her.

  “No, Alex,” she gasped, “this is not what I want!”

  Ignoring her words, Alex, kissed the curve of her pouting lips.

  “Perhaps not,” he said softly, “but you can’t tell me that you didn’t enjoy being kissed just now. You’re a beautiful, enticing woman, one I could easily love.”

  “Oh, no, no, no! We’ve just met!”

  “What does it take to fall in love? Only a fleeting moment in the wispy hands of time and two hearts to beat with the same rhythm.” He pulled her to him, holding her against his chest. “Our hearts are beating together. Don’t you feel it?”