Daughter of Darkness

by Janet Woods

  Anthony grinned as they clambered over the sill. ‘May one enquire if the maid was willing?’

  ‘Almost any maid is willing, if one goes about it the right way.’

  Sheronwood had an air of neglect. Cobwebs hung in corners and festooned the chandeliers, dust coated the fine, gilt furniture Rosamond de Vere had been so fond of. Saddened to think so fine a lady had died here unattended and alone, he made a small, silent prayer for her soul.

  It occurred to him that his own family could have suffered exactly the same fate, had it not been for Willow. Somehow, she’d found the strength to keep his father’s house together and contain the disease. Although she could not save all, she’d kept him a home to come back to. Had she not taken the burden of the epidemic upon her shoulders, his father and Jeffrey might have perished also. If they had, his conscience would have been too full of remorse to bear.

  ‘Listen.’ The whisper of sound that drifted through the house had raised the hairs on the back of his neck. Rising to a high keening sound, it was like a wail of despair coming from the depths of hell before it sank to a subdued sobbing murmur. It ceased abruptly, leaving an eerie silence in its wake.

  ‘What the hell was that?’

  Steel whispered against scabbards as two swords were drawn as one. ‘Is the house inhabited by dead souls, after all?’

  ‘I’ll wager no apparition uttered that sound.’ By voicing it aloud, Gerard was able to convince himself of the fact. ‘The sound came from below us. That’s where we must look for the source.’

  The source proved to be elusive. Sheronwood appeared to be uninhabited. The air was musty and stale, the dust undisturbed. As far as Gerard could see, the contents of the house seemed to be intact. The boarding of the outside cellar door was satisfactorily explained when inside access was discovered to be similarly treated. ‘The cellars are extensive.’ Gerard’s foot kicked against the boards. ‘This must have been done to discourage looters. I think the sound might have been a freak wind in the tunnels below.’

  A scuffling sound came from the other side of the boards, then a soft thud. Though they listened, the sound was not repeated.

  ‘Rats,’ Anthony grunted, and sheathing his sword gave a self-deprecating smile. ‘It seems our excursion was a wasted exercise. My theory is, the attack on Lady Sommersley was an isolated incident. It’s possible she disturbed the ship’s crew picking up illegal passengers.’

  ‘My wife said they were children.’

  ‘The adults may have already been ferried to the ship. Obviously, the captain thought the passage money better in his pocket than that of the ship’s owner. I doubt if he’ll risk using this pick up point again, especially now his partner is dead.’

  ‘What of the woman my wife mentioned?’

  ‘Gone I should imagine. She wouldn’t hang around here waiting to be caught and hauled before a magistrate.’

  The explanation seemed feasible to Gerard. After checking the doors and windows were securely fastened, they unbolted the front door and started to make their way around the house. A skinny ginger kitten wandered from the garden bed into his path. Picking it up by the scruff of the neck, Gerard was about to put it out of its misery when he hesitated. Willow would enjoy having a kitten to fuss over. It might take her mind from the village orphans. Stuffing the kitten inside his coat, he returned Anthony’s grin with a shrug, and strode towards the horses before the kitten’s siblings arrived and demanded the same treatment.

  Sapphire reclined against the velvet cushions, trying to piece together the last remnants of her waning energy. She’d spent an exhausting afternoon visiting orphaned children in the district with her daughter. Willow seemed to be well thought of, but her own presence had been regarded with uncomfortable suspicion. A couple of women had crossed themselves against her, eyes had been averted and someone had spat upon the ground after she’d passed.

  The sullen attitude of the villagers had gone unnoticed by Willow, and had been reserved for herself alone. The accumulation of uneasy dislike had generated tension in her, resulting in a headache.

  She smiled wanly when Bella anxiously bathed the perspiration from her face and took her hand. ‘Don’t worry about me, Bella. I’ve seen what the future holds, and am not afraid. The joy of being in my daughter’s presence is reward enough for the unhappiness of the past. What think you of her?’

  A husky sound came from Bella’s throat. Her eyes lit up and her mouth curve into a broad smile.

  ‘I’m pleased you like her, because one day… ‘

  There was a light rap at the door and Sapphire just managed to replace her veil before her daughter entered, carrying a glass of liquid on a tray. ‘I’ve brought something to ease your headache.’

  Had Willow stopped to wonder how she’d known about the headache? Marietta hadn’t mentioned it to her, but the more time they spent in each other’s company the more she instinctively picked up her thoughts and feelings. Sapphire hadn’t expected that, and for once was at a loss. Nevertheless, she was pleased the girl was thoughtful of her welfare. Then Willow did something that surprised her even more. Reaching out her hand, she placed it against her forehead. ‘Your malady is caused by tension. I’ll massage it away.’

  She held out the glass of opaque liquid. ‘This is made from feverfew and honey and will relax you.’ Thoughtfully, she surveyed Sapphire’s chest with its many bottles, its jars of herbs, and the mortar and pestle. ‘I daresay you consider me a fool when it’s usual for people to come to you for such cures. Please forgive the intrusion. Grandmother has often said my interest in people could cause them embarrassment. She says I’m too inquisitive for my own good.’

  ‘Wait.’ Sapphire was unable to suppress a laugh at Willow’s candid confession. It was a novelty to be treated as a normal being when people usually regarded her with too much awe, or recoiled from her altogether. ‘I’ve not tried a headache cure such as you offer.’

  Willow smiled in gratification. ‘I’ll tell you how to make it. It’s quite easy to prepare, and has a soothing effect as well as curative properties. I learned the secret of this when I was growing up in Ireland. There was a woman in the village near Coringal who taught me about herbs, and how to prepare different medicinal potions. Her name was… ‘

  Siobhan! Sapphire couldn’t help but smile as Willow told her of her life in Ireland. Her daughter’s sense of humor embellished the tale with a gentle and delightful irony, whilst her fingers soothed the tension from her scalp. Brian O’Shea was Siobhan’s nephew. He’d been a child the first time they’d met, but had accepted, as had they all, that he’d play a small part in Sapphire’s destiny.

  Sapphire had met Siobhan only once, when she’d been forced to accompany the Marquis on a visit to his dying mother at Coringal. Each had recognized the other’s gift, had known their paths had crossed for a purpose. Siobhan had not said anything when she’d handed her an amulet, but Sapphire had known her life would not be happy. She’d never felt the ring had been meant for her to wear, and now she knew why.

  Brian had looked up at her when she’d been given the amulet, and had said in his serious, child’s voice. ‘When your child comes to Coringal, I’ll be the friend and protector of her spirit. Another, who’s not of the sight, will be the guardian of her mind and body, and will hold her welfare close to his heart.’

  ‘She will be as resilient as a Willow in the wind,’ Siobhan had said.

  Sapphire had remembered his words when her daughter had been born. Superstitiously, she’d given her child the name chosen for her by the forces of fate. She’d spent only a precious few weeks with the child, but was content with the knowledge she’d be protected. She’d not expected to see Willow again after she’d been torn from her breast.

  ‘Fetch that small pouch from my jewelry chest, Bella,’ Sapphire instructed, after she’d dutifully swallowed her daughter’s simple preparation. ‘There’s something I wish to give to Willow.’

  Willow glowed with pleasure when Sapphire
drew an exquisite enameled ring from the pouch and slid it on her finger. The blood red background had an intertwining design of a silver bird on it. Extending her hand to admire its effect, she stared at it in silence for a moment, then said quietly. ‘How can this be?’

  Sapphire started when she followed the girl’s glance to the ring. The bird was a silver hawk poised to descend on its prey. She recognized it now as the hawk decorating the seal of Lytton House, and wondered how she’d failed to notice the significance of it before.

  Chapter Eight

  Annie Tupworthy badly wanted to give birth to a son. She’d carried six children in as many years. All had been female, all except one had died at birth. Once she provided her husband with a male heir, he’d continue to frequent the bawdy houses but he’d leave her alone. She was weary from the constant pregnancies, and the beatings he inflicted on her.

  The despair she felt, didn’t show in her eyes as she set a jug of ale in front of the squire and his guest, the Wesley preacher, Reverend Pollock. The two men had spent the last hour discussing Earl Lytton’s illness, Viscount Sommersley’s modernisation of the estate, and most of all, the woman called Sapphire. Neither had a good word to say about anyone, especially Sapphire, whose mystic powers were well-known.

  When her husband brusquely dismissed her, Annie hurried to get her cloak. If he found out she’d arranged a rendezvous with Sapphire in a secluded cottage on the outskirts of the village he’d beat her senseless. She caressed her swollen stomach. She was willing to risk it if the outcome was a son. The tenant had been eager to rent the accommodation for a small sum of money, though her eyes had widened with fear and she’d hurriedly crossed herself when she’d heard who Annie was meeting with that day.

  Sapphire hadn’t intended to make herself available for consultation again. When Annie Tupworthy’s plea for help had arrived, she’d sensed the aura of despair.

  She’d lived with such a man as Squire Tupworthy, and suffered similar brutality. If the woman had asked for something to end her husband’s life—as others in her position had—she would have refused.

  Of late, she’d come to the conclusion life was ordained, with death arriving at its appointed hour. To interfere with divine law was dangerous to the soul. But Annie Tupworthy’s plea was born of desperation. The woman considered ending her own life. Having experienced the despair that drove a woman to contemplate such an act, it had touched her heart.

  Consultation with her crystal had revealed an abrupt end to Annie’s misery, and augured happiness in her future. That she could tell her. There had also been an omen of evil in the crystal, a shadowy dark shape fluttering in the peripheral of the glass. It had appeared thrice, and its presence worried her.

  Accompanied by Bella, Sapphire slipped unseen from the house and made her way to the stables. The afternoon was mild for winter, with a blustery wind carrying the salty tang of the ocean to her nostrils. Three horses were saddled and ready. She raised an eyebrow in surprise as she glanced at Brian. You accompany us?’

  ‘That I do, Lady. A need for caution surrounds you.’

  So, Brian had picked up on that too. ‘You’re not frightened I’ll enchant you?’ Sapphire smiled behind her veil when Brian gave a twisted little grin.

  ‘I know you, Lady.’ His gypsy eyes touched on the veil and saw through it. ‘Your daughter has brought your soul forth from the dark place.’

  ‘She’s made me weak.’

  ‘Nay, lady.’ Brian’s face was grave as he helped the two women on to their mounts. ‘You’re vulnerable, and it frightens you. Love is resilient, bringing power to both the giver and receiver. Men sacrifice themselves for love.’

  ‘And women also.’ A chill settled around her heart as she murmured. ‘The path I tread is not easy.’

  ‘Your choice was made when you set foot on Lytton soil.’ A shiver raced up Brian’s spine when a glossy black raven set down upon a fence post and stared silently at them. Hastily, he crossed himself as the bird flew off towards the road. God grant this woman strength for the trial ahead, he thought.

  ‘Tell the officer exactly how it happened, Biggs?’ Still angry from his encounter with Squire Tupworthy, Gerard’s voice was terse as he bade his gatekeeper speak. ‘Damn it all man, it happened just outside the gate. You must have seen something.’

  ‘It’s a bit hard to explain, My Lord.’ A worried frown divided Biggs forehead and he chewed nervously on a straw clutched between his teeth.

  ‘The squire arrived unannounced, and demanded to see the earl,’ Gerard prompted impatiently.

  That much was the truth. A footman requested the man’s card and the squire had become belligerent. Striding from the study, Gerard had advised Tupworthy to depart. The squire had verbally insulted him. When he persisted in his quest to see the earl, Gerard had called some footmen to eject the man before he succumbed to the temptation to run him through.

  ‘That he did, My Lord,’ the gate-man answered. ‘He seemed to be in his cups, and was shouting something about farming systems when he came back.’ Biggs gazed at the sky. ‘He was uncomplimentary about Lady Sommersley.’

  Gerard’s ire rose at the thought. ‘Exactly what did he say?’

  ‘I’d rather not repeat it, sir.’

  ‘Come, man, you needn’t be afraid.’ His cane tapped impatiently against the side of his boot. ‘The man is dead. I’ll not hold you accountable for another’s remark.’

  ‘And I’ll not repeat an ill word spoken against the mistress in company,’ Biggs said doggedly, his eyes sliding towards Anthony Dowling, who obligingly walked out of earshot.

  ‘Well, man?’

  Biggs’s cheeks turned a dull red. ‘He said the mistress be tainted by the Lynchcross blood. He said the Givanchy curse applied to her too, and she’ll most likely prove to be barren. I was tempted to close his foul mouth with my fist. A finer lady— ‘

  ‘That will do, Biggs.’ He squashed the spurt of anger Biggs words brought, but was tight lipped when he beckoned Anthony Dowling back. ‘Tell Captain Dowling how the squire’s accident occur?’

  Biggs suddenly paled. ‘A raven flew at the horse and startled it. It reared, and the squire was unseated. His neck fell across that boulder over there. I hears a crack, and he just went limp.’

  They all gazed at the body of lying huddled under his cloak.

  ‘The raven flew off towards the stables,’ Biggs offered, looking fearfully about him. ‘Some say the raven is a bringer of evil. It were seen in the village just before that man drowned.’

  Gerard patted Biggs’ shoulder. ‘Talk of supernatural intervention is both tedious and dangerous. Just two days ago, Captain Dowling and I were forced to visit Sheronwood on such rumor. I’ll tell you, Biggs, the rumors of supernatural events were totally without foundation. The house was undisturbed and there was not an apparition in sight. You understand what I’m saying?’

  ‘Yes, My Lord.’ Biggs wondered if he should tell the viscount what he’d heard about the children at Sheronwood.

  ‘Good, man.’ The viscount flipped him a coin. ‘I know I can rely on you to keep your mouth shut. The cart should be here to take the body back to the Manor House, shortly. The rider I sent spoke to the preacher who’s staying there. He’s taken it upon himself to inform and comfort Mrs. Tupworthy.’

  Biggs shrugged as Gerard turned back towards the house. If the viscount had been to Sheronwood and found nothing, why should he risk a reprimand by repeating what the Sheronwood servant had told him? It had obviously been all lies.

  The raven was huddled with the rooks amongst the trees when the riders passed below. It didn’t belong to the rookery, and the smaller birds grumbled uneasily amongst themselves. Suddenly, it gave a harsh caw and flew up into the air. Startled, the rooks rose and flew in a noisy circle. When they settled the outsider had gone.

  High in the sky, the raven followed the three riders, coming to rest on the warm brick chimney stack of a cottage on the outskirts of the village.Inside the cot
tage, Annie Tupworthy was doubled up in agony. Her membrane had broken twenty minutes earlier, and her labour commenced straight away. The birth was almost imminent. She gazed at Sapphire in mute appeal as she came through the door.

  ‘My dear woman!’ Taking one look at her, Sapphire turned to her maid. ‘Quickly, Bella. Help her to the bed and loosen her clothing, then see if you can find some clean rags. Her baby seems to be in somewhat of a hurry.’ She gazed over her shoulder at Brian, who hovered awkwardly just inside the door. ‘This is no place for a man. Make haste to the Manor House and fetch a carriage.’

  ‘Shall I inform the squire, Lady?’

  She hesitated, presentiment settling round her shoulders like a dark shroud. Evil was abroad. ‘He’ll not be there. Bring a lady’s maid and the children’s nurse. Tell the nurse to bring swaddling clothes for the infant and a blanket to wrap him in.’

  ‘Him?’ Annie clutched Sapphire’s wrist. ‘My child will be a boy?’

  ‘Yes, my dear,’ she said soothingly, whilst she drew aside the woman’s skirts and prepared her for the birthing. ‘He’ll be strong of limb and clever of mind, and will have the look of your father.’

  ‘He’ll not have a nature like his own father?’ Annie shuddered as a spasm of pain gripped her. ‘I’d not have him inflicted thus.’

  ‘I promise you a son you’ll be proud of. When he’s a man he’ll distinguish himself in the service of the king, and will achieve high rank and estate. This, I know.’

  Perspiration beaded Annie’s the face as Sapphire removed her veil. Observing the bruises on the woman’s legs, it was hard to hide her pity and anger. There was one consolation. Annie Tupworthy would never suffer another beating from her husband.