‘Angelica!’ he chanted. ‘Where are you?’
Angelica swallowed hard, trying not to make a sound as the faceless figure began to step delicately around her. She watched him intently, her entire body shaking with fear as he went. She thought she knew who he was. He was the one she feared the most. Now he had come for her, to undo all she had accomplished for herself and for William.
If she would let him.
As he passed her, ever listening for her, she ran for the open doorway, determined that he of all people would not find her. Once outside, she fled into the grounds, following the moonlit pathway around the house and past the lake, looking for somewhere to hide. When she saw the dome of the ice house, she bolted towards it and quickly took the stone steps down to the gate. It creaked as she opened it, and she cursed the rusting hinges. Beyond was a short tunnel that led to an oak door, which was invitingly open. Without a moment’s hesitation, she went inside and closed it quietly behind her.
And in the darkness, she waited.
She waited a long time, sitting huddled on the cold stone floor, staring in the direction of the door in the hope that the figure had gone. When she felt certain he had, she stood up and went back to the door. Then she began to open it and her breath caught in her chest when she heard the gate outside creak and groan.
He was there.
She backed away, though she could not go far. The oak door slowly opened and she screamed as the faceless figure appeared before her again. This time he rushed at her, drawn by her scream.
And in that instant, Angelica awoke, a cold sweat on her brow, her heart still racing. She was alone at the dining table, the meal long finished. As soon as she realised she had been having a nightmare, she drew a slow breath to help calm herself, but it did no good. What if he really did find her? What then for this good life she now had, and above all, for William’s future? She could not see it come undone at this man’s hand. She would have to safeguard against it, but how?
‘Effie . . .’ she said under her breath.
She would ask her to procure a small pistol for her from her father’s collection. If the man in her dream came for her, she would be ready for him.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Winson Green, Birmingham
1896
A pistol?
I was shocked at first to hear Angelica ask me to obtain one for her from my father’s vast collection, but when she explained her nightmare to me, how could I refuse? I would have done anything within my power to lessen the day-to-day anxiety that so frequently forced these nightmares upon her. Perhaps having a small pistol close by would be enough to end them, or at least bring some comfort to her until time played its inevitable part in allaying her fears.
It was a small American-made Remington Derringer with mother-of-pearl grips, an early model I was afraid my father would miss, but with so many large and impressive pieces in his collection I took the chance that he would overlook such a tiny thing. Growing up with a father so obsessed with firearms, I was quickly able to show Angelica how it worked. It had an over-under barrel design that meant two bullets could be loaded and fired independently, which she thought was a good idea in the event that a second bullet might be called for. I shuddered to think of Angelica ever having to pull the trigger, but she couldn’t have been happier with it. It seemed to put her at ease the moment she slipped it into her reticule.
I forgot all about the Derringer for a time, although I’m sure it helped Angelica because her nightmares seemed to pass. There were soon other things on her mind, however. During the three years that followed she became more and more preoccupied with the challenge of making a love match between William and Louisa, and more and more frustrated by the fact that Louisa only seemed to have eyes for Alexander. The boys were now settled into their roles at the pen factory. They were both ripe for marriage, but who would win Louisa’s heart? I found it all very amusing to begin with, but I had no idea at the time just how serious Angelica was.
We were all soon greatly distracted, however, by far more serious matters – terrible events that would change the course of all of our lives forever.
Birmingham
1893
It was early autumn, though still warm and dry, the leaves on the trees here and there already beginning to fall as Angelica strolled through Cannon Hill Park, past the bandstand where Mr Featherstone had chanced upon her and William and had helped to change their fortunes. It hadn’t rained for weeks. The groundskeepers had done well to keep the flowers blooming, but the dry summer had taken its toll on the grassy areas, which had all but lost their colour and were patchy in places, revealing the dusty, baked ground beneath. Effie was there, as were the two boys, now turned eighteen and men in all but legal right, and of course there was Louisa.
Louisa, Louisa . . .
How that name had become a source of frustration for Angelica. She had thus far been unable to turn the girl’s affections towards William, and William remained hopelessly inept at doing so for himself. Thankfully, Alexander’s apparent indifference to any romantic attachment to Louisa remained as strong as ever. They were all just good friends, although Louisa’s every word, every gesture and glance at Alexander told Angelica that she wished it were otherwise.
They approached the lake where William and Alexander had first met, the two boys ahead, each carrying a picnic basket, and Louisa in the middle with the blankets for them to sit on. Angelica hadn’t wanted any of the servants with them on this occasion. There wasn’t much to carry, after all, and since Stanley had recently fallen ill and had now taken to his bed, there was far greater need of their help at Priory House.
‘How is Stanley?’ Effie asked from beneath her sun parasol.
‘Still very weak, I’m afraid,’ Angelica said with a sigh. ‘Doctor Grosvenor was with him this morning. That was his third visit in as many weeks, and I don’t believe he’s any the wiser as to what’s the matter with him.’
‘I hope he soon recovers.’
Angelica smiled kindly. ‘Thank you, Effie. I’m sure he’ll be back on his feet again in no time. I wanted to stay with him today, of course, but he wouldn’t hear of it. He said he’d already missed too many of our little Saturday afternoon outings, and he didn’t want me to miss them too.’
‘He’s very sweet. Do you think he suspects what’s going on between us?’
The question surprised Angelica. ‘Why should he? Why should anyone for that matter? We’re discreet, aren’t we?’
‘Yes, of course.’
‘Well then,’ Angelica said. She snapped open her fan and began to wave it in front of her face. ‘I shouldn’t think this heat would suit Stanley anyway.’
‘I’m not sure it suits me, either,’ Effie said. ‘It really is quite stifling. Perhaps we’ll find a breeze by the lake.’
When they caught up with the boys and Louisa, she had laid out their blankets, and William was already munching on an apple. Alexander was on his knees, bent over one of the baskets, handing out the crockery.
‘Mutton pie, anyone?’ he said as Angelica and Effie sat down.
‘We might have to share it with the geese,’ William said with a laugh, pointing to the waterline, where several assorted fowl had begun to look interested.
‘I’d like some,’ Louisa said. ‘Just a small piece.’
‘Don’t want to get fat, eh?’ Alexander said, showing little tact over the fact that Louisa had put on some weight in recent months. It put a small smile at the corner of Angelica’s mouth.
‘Do you think me fat now?’ Louisa said, looking self-consciously at herself.
‘No, of course not. I was just being silly as always.’
William tossed his apple core towards the geese. ‘I think you look very well indeed,’ he said, and Louisa’s smile returned.
She glanced at Alexander and then, making sure she had his attention, moved closer to William until she was sitting right beside him.
‘Thank you, William,’ she s
aid, putting her arm through his.
Angelica was initially pleased to see some progress at last, but it was quickly apparent that Louisa was only trying to make Alexander jealous.
‘Would you like to have afternoon tea with me tomorrow, Willy?’ she said, rather more loudly than she had to, making sure everyone, especially Alexander, heard her. She was even looking at Alexander as she spoke, as if keen to see his reaction.
‘I’d like that very much,’ William said, suddenly beaming at her. ‘You’ve never asked me before.’ He paused, his brow creasing. ‘You do mean just the two of us, don’t you?’
‘Yes, of course. Just you and me. Alex isn’t interested in such trivial pastimes as afternoon tea, are you, Alex?’
Alex looked up at Louisa from his mutton pie, and as he did so she snuggled closer to William, feigning indifference to his answer. It seemed to get Alexander’s attention at last.
‘Oh, I don’t know,’ he said as he put his pie down and sat up. ‘I like a cup of tea as much as anyone. I’ll come, too, if you like.’
Louisa couldn’t have dropped William’s arm any quicker. ‘Would you?’ she said, sounding all too eager as she edged closer to him again.
‘Hang on a minute!’ William said, finally latching on. ‘I thought you just said—’
‘It’ll be even more fun with the three of us,’ Louisa cut in. ‘Could you please pass me a sandwich, Alex,’ she added, taking the opportunity to move back beside Alexander so that he didn’t have so far to pass it.
Angelica couldn’t understand for the life of her how William had not seen Louisa’s ruse to get Alexander to join her for afternoon tea coming. She supposed he was too flattered by her attention at last to mind, or too blinded by it. She saw that Louisa was all moon-eyed for Alexander again, so before Louisa could further capitalise on the little streak of jealousy she had instilled in Alexander, Angelica asked, ‘Are you any closer to solving your leaking-pen problem, Alexander?’
Alexander put his plate down and turned to her, and Angelica could see the eagerness in his eyes as he answered. ‘I heard only recently that the Americans have filed patents which solve the problem with a retractable nib design,’ he said, suddenly seeming to forget Louisa was beside him. ‘It seems a rather convoluted solution, if you ask me.’
‘And no doubt far more expensive to produce,’ William said, sounding very much like Alfred Moore in his desire to look after the pennies.
‘Indeed. I’m sure there’s a much simpler answer waiting to be found. We’re already looking at a screw-on cap with a seal that would contain any leakage from the nib. I still feel, however, that the answer lies with the ink bladder itself.’
Louisa frowned and fidgeted. ‘Must you always be so wrapped up in your work, Alex?’
‘But it’s very important work, Lou. At least, it is to me.’
‘I didn’t mean to suggest it wasn’t, I—’
‘Would you excuse me,’ Angelica cut in, satisfied that Louisa now had little chance of turning Alexander’s mind off the subject of leaking pens for the remainder of the afternoon. ‘I’d like to take a stroll beside the lake.’
‘That’s a lovely idea,’ Effie said. ‘I’ll join you.’
As they walked, Angelica began to shake her head, still thinking about Louisa and the match she wanted for William, and how she was going to help bring it about.
‘They’re not right for one another,’ she told Effie as soon as they were out of earshot. ‘Louisa and Alexander, I mean.’
‘Louisa doesn’t seem to think so,’ Effie said, taking Angelica’s arm.
‘No, the poor thing. She’s quite besotted, or so she thinks.’
‘I like that word. I’m besotted with you, you know that, don’t you?’
Angelica laughed. ‘How could I not when you tell me so often.’
‘Do I? I’m sorry.’
‘Don’t apologise. I like it. Stanley hasn’t shown much affection towards me in a long time. He’s still very kind, but I think his heart has cooled because I’ve not given him another child in all these years. I really can’t remember the last time he kissed me.’
‘I wish I could kiss you.’
‘Heavens, not here,’ Angelica said, alarmed at the idea.
‘Stanley could kiss you here if he wished to. It’s not fair.’
‘Stanley would never kiss me in public, even when he was in the habit of kissing me more often.’
They continued walking beside the lake, taking in the few small rowing boats on the water and the general activity going on around them: the people strolling along the path further back, others sitting on the grass here and there, with and without picnics of their own.
Angelica still could not stop thinking about Louisa so, turning the subject back to her, she said, ‘I think Louisa is merely clinging on to the one boy she’s known all through her life as they were growing up. Alexander is a comfortable match for her, but I’m sure that’s all it is.’
‘Or she could genuinely have grown to love him,’ Effie countered.
They turned around and headed back, not wanting to stray too far from the picnic. ‘Yes, she could,’ Angelica conceded, thinking if that were the case then the only chance William had of gaining Louisa’s affections was if her love for Alexander somehow turned against him.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
On her return from their picnic in the park, Angelica was surprised to learn that Doctor Grosvenor had been called back to Priory House. As soon as she, William and Alexander stepped down from their carriage – Effie and Louisa having returned to their own homes – Missus Redmond was quick to inform them that Stanley had become quite delirious while they had been out.
‘One of the maids found him lying on the lawn,’ Missus Redmond said, her voice, along with her expression, full of concern. ‘The good Lord only knows how he got there. He was too weak to stand up again and had to be carried back to his bed.’
‘Is the doctor still with him?’ Angelica asked as they all paced inside the house.
‘Yes, madam. He’s been with him for the past half hour.’
‘No news then?’
‘Not yet, madam.’
Angelica marched up the stairs, leaving Missus Redmond clutching the lower newel post, her hand clasped to her mouth with worry. William and Alexander began to follow, but Angelica stopped them.
‘Take Missus Redmond into the drawing room and sit her down with a glass of sherry,’ she said. ‘Wait with her until I come back. I don’t think it’s advisable for us all to go bundling into Stanley’s room at once.’
With that, Angelica continued up the stairs, wondering what this new turn of events regarding Stanley’s condition meant, and whether Doctor Grosvenor was yet any the wiser as to what was wrong with him. She did not knock when she arrived at her husband’s bedroom door. She entered briskly and was met with a scene that made her jaw drop.
‘What in heaven’s name are you doing to my husband?’ she said, anger rising in her tone as she took in the scene before her.
The bedcovers were pulled all the way down to the foot of the bed. Stanley was lying on his back, partially naked, while Doctor Grosvenor – a thin, white-haired man who appeared old enough to be Angelica’s grandfather – bent over him with a metal tray in one hand and a large pair of tweezers in the other. His shirtsleeves were rolled up, and over one forearm was a bloodstained fold of cloth.
‘Leeches?’ Angelica said, as though unable to believe her eyes.
She went closer and screwed her face up in disgust. There had to be at least forty of the slimy black creatures clamped to Stanley’s skin, and yet the doctor’s metal tray still held more, which he would no doubt have administered had Angelica not walked in when she did.
Doctor Grosvenor looked at her with an expression that was as much to say, ‘Yes, leeches. Of course leeches. What else?’ Angelica, however, had long since heard that, although still practised, this cure-all treatment of bleeding patients for just about every ailment
had fallen out of favour, having come to be considered of no benefit whatsoever for all but a few specific conditions, and in the overwhelming majority of cases to do more harm than good.
‘Remove them at once!’ she demanded. ‘Then get out. Can’t you see that my poor husband is close to unconscious already?’
‘But it is only then that we know the patient has been bled enough,’ Grosvenor replied with insistence.
Angelica gave a frustrated sigh. ‘Your methods are both archaic and barbaric, and they are not welcome here!’ she said, placing the palm of her hand on Stanley’s brow. His skin was decidedly blue in places, and as a result Angelica thought his brow would feel icy cold, but it was surprisingly hot.
‘He has a fever, madam,’ Grosvenor said. ‘It must be bled from him. I’ve been this family’s physician since Stanley was born.’ He paused and gave a derisive laugh. ‘I think I’m best placed to know what’s right for him, don’t you?’
Angelica turned to the doctor, her face now glowing with anger. ‘No, sir, I do not,’ she said with a shake of her head. ‘And your opinion, for what it’s worth, is no longer welcome here either.’ She went back to the door. ‘You have five minutes to remove those wretched things and leave this house. If you are one minute longer, I’ll have you thrown out!’
Angelica closed the door behind her and waited outside the room. When the door opened again, Doctor Grosvenor looked red-faced and flummoxed. He took one glance at Angelica, gave a huff, and proceeded towards the main stairway without saying another word, which was for the best as far as Angelica was concerned. She saw the doctor off the property herself and was glad to see the back of him. When she entered the drawing room afterwards, to explain to everyone what had happened, all eyes were immediately on her, each troubled expression asking how Stanley was.
The Penmaker's Wife Page 12
