Cursed

by Felicity Harper

  “No, Henrietta. You and Father cannot keep making excuses for them simply because Mother is gone.”

  “A girl needs a mother, Prue ….”

  “Let us not forget that she was our mother too,” Prudence cut in. She kept her voice low, “But we didn’t use that as a reason to behave selfishly.”

  “No - but then we were fortunate to be a little older.”

  “You were but twelve years old, Henrietta! You have been taking care of everyone else for far too long.” Prudence placed her hand on Henrietta’s arm. “It’s time you considered your own needs.”

  “I know you mean well, Prue,” Henrietta said, covering her sister’s hand with her own, “but we cannot all be as lucky as you were with Miles.”

  “Oh, Hetty! That’s different! I knew I wanted to marry Miles when I was eight years old.”

  Prudence nodded politely towards Mrs Gillard, who was staring at them from her spot next to Millicent and Cecilia. It was apparent she was waiting to introduce her insipid daughter, Isabelle, to the new arrivals. Both Prudence and Henrietta knew their two younger sisters were the cause of a fair bit of gossip and resentment. It was inevitable in a small town where three sisters from one wealthy family were out in society. After all, they were not the only young women seeking a husband. It certainly didn’t help that the two younger Pemberly girls dominated every social gathering they attended. With their stunning looks and their flirtatious ways, they tended to capture the appreciation of all the eligible men. It was a situation guaranteed to infuriate any mother with a daughter of marriageable age.

  “I do wish Cecilia and Milicent would be a little more generous of spirit when it came to ceding attention,” Prudence muttered crossly. She turned back to Henrietta. “Just promise me that you won’t spend your life rotting away at Riverly while you wait around for someone or something that does not exist.”

  Henrietta’s eyes widened with confusion. “What do you mean?”

  “Do not underestimate how well I know you, Hetty.” Prudence said, steering Henrietta away from an advancing Lady Plumley and her fat lap dog. “I know that you have built a fantasy world in your head and walled yourself up in it. I know, too, that you use that wall to keep others away.”

  “That isn’t true. I simply have no wish to be courted for my inheritance.”

  “You know that’s nonsense! One does not have to be a great beauty to find love, Henrietta, and, anyway, you are perfectly delightful. You just need to tame that hair and wear a corset more often,” Prudence teased. She tapped her sister with her closed fan and Henrietta stuck out her tongue just as Lady Plumley advanced upon them. Prudence giggled and whispered, “I shall go and help Mrs Gillard in her endeavours while you deal with Lady P.”

  By the time she had returned from walking Lady Plumley’s dachshund, Henrietta’s two younger sisters were dancing and Prudence was subtly nudging Miles in the direction of the blonde giant. Miles spoke to the handsome stranger and, to Henrietta’s horror, they looked over and started towards her.

  Dear God no! Not a pity dance!

  In a moment of panic, she almost ran - and then realised how ludicrous that would look. Out of sensible options, Henrietta was left with no choice but to stand there, her face flaming red, as Miles introduced her and the handsome stranger to each other and then slipped away.

  Bowing deeply at the waist, Sir Roderick Hardwick held out his hand. “My lady - will you honour me with this dance?”

  Henrietta - enchanted by his courtly manners - slipped her hand in his.

  “I would be delighted, Sir.”

  Chapter Three

  Breakfast had been a quiet affair for Henrietta until her two younger siblings arrived. She sipped her tea as they protested bitterly to their father that Henrietta had tried to steal their beau.

  “What is this, Hetty?” Lord Pemberly asked. A teasing smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “You captured the attention of the newest, most handsomest and ….” He looked across at Milicent for the rest of her description of Lord Hardwick.

  Milicent shrugged sulkily. “And richest - probably.”

  “And,” Lord Pemberly continued wickedly, making Henrietta smile, “the richest man there - probably - right from under the pretty noses of your two lovely sisters. Now, what have you to say for yourself?”

  Henrietta’s lips twitched. “Papa! Stop teasing! It was one dance!”

  She had enjoyed dancing with Sir Hardwick. Very much, in fact. He had proved an amusing companion for as long as the dance had lasted. He had complimented her on her dancing and her witty observations and made Henrietta glow with pleasure. And then the dance had ended. It hadn’t been too hard to smile and pretend not to care when he bowed and walked away. He had looked equally charming when he was dancing with Lady Silvie - and her merry laugh had followed Henrietta all the way to the refreshments table. She reminded herself it had only been a pity dance and she shouldn’t make too much of it.

  Cecilia gave her a resentful look over the rim of her tea cup. “He only danced with her because Miles put him in a position where he had to, Papa.”

  “Well there you are then,” Henrietta said, putting her own cup back in its saucer and getting up from the table. “I am off to the village to visit with Mrs Dawkins. I shall take a pie or two. She has recently given birth and would, I’m sure, appreciate not having to cook for her brood for one day.”

  “That’s my little hen,” her father said fondly and Henrietta kissed the top of his head in passing. Once she had safely exited the breakfast room, she leaned her back against the door and closed her eyes. Breathing deeply, she let her body relax and felt the tightness leave her. How silly she was to let one dance affect her so; and how absurd of her to allow Cecilia’s thoughtless words to hurt her. She shook herself and straightened up just as Mrs Huggett appeared.

  “The basket you asked for, Lady Henrietta.”

  “Thank you, Mrs Huggett.” She noticed her drawing implements had been packed too.

  “I thought you might like to come back the way of the forest, my Lady.”

  “How well you know me!” Henrietta said, smiling fondly at the elderly housekeeper.

  Some time alone in the forest was exactly what Henrietta needed. A bit of time to remind herself what really mattered.

  Henrietta crossed the little bridge that led to Riverly. It was a fairly long walk from the village back home. She had to go quite a long way down river until she reached the bridge and then cross back over to her father’s estate. She didn’t mind on fine autumn days like today but, come the winter, it usually meant taking a horse or having someone drop her off in the buggy. Still, she would enjoy the solitude of her excursions while she still could.

  She entered the forest, skirting along the edges until she was closer to home.

  She had enjoyed a wonderful visit with her father’s tenants. The Dawkins family were one of many tenants who Henrietta took the time to visit. Mr Dawkins had been out in the fields with the two oldest boys but Mrs Dawkins, though tired, had looked happy to see her. The younger children’s eyes had lit up when they saw Henrietta had brought some of her pies. She had unpacked the food and spent the rest of the morning playing with the children while Mrs Dawkins had rested. She had left with instructions that the oldest boy drop into Riverly on his way back from market the next day to collect more pies.

  Henrietta was always happy to have an excuse to bake her pies. It was a simple pleasure to spend time in the kitchen making food for those who appreciated it. The small task made her feel useful, especially now that her sisters were older and had less need for her. Her father, particularly, enjoyed them; though both he and Prudence would often question why Henrietta didn’t simply ask Mrs Leaven, the cook, to bake the pies. They didn’t understand what making them meant to her.

  When she had been a child, her mother had taken her to the kitchen. She had tied an apron around Henrietta’s little waist and told her: “In ti
me, I will teach you how to bake soft, fluffy bread and sponge puddings but, first, you must learn how to feed your loved ones’ souls.”

  Henrietta hadn’t really understood what her mother meant. They had a cook who fed them and no one was going hungry. She had no idea if souls even felt hunger. Her soul seemed pretty full. But, still, the important thing was that it meant time spent with her beloved mother. Mama taught her how to make the pastry bases and bake them in the oven. They used to fill the pies with meat and vegetables before topping them off with a golden pastry lid. Mama would also take Henrietta out into the forest to forage for fruit; they would collect juicy, seasonal fare to bake into sweetened pastry. Those had been such blissful times.

  Sadness filled her at the thought of all the things her mother had never had the chance to show her. Henrietta had finally mastered the pies just as Mama became ill. Too ill, by then, to stand in the kitchen with her daughter; too tired to show her how to bake bread or sponge puddings. Henrietta had never learned how to cook anything else except those pies.

  Her thoughts still with her mother, she entered the clearing and sat down on her log. What would Mama have thought of Henrietta now? Would she be proud of her daughter for keeping her promise? That last day, her mother had looked so forlorn. She had stared blankly at the window, barely listening to Henrietta’s voice as she read aloud. “What troubles you, Mama?” she had asked. “Shall I fetch Father?”

  Mama had turned her head. Her sunken eyes had sought out her young daughter and Henrietta had felt a sob rise in her chest. How defeated Mama looked in that moment; and how desperately Henrietta had wanted to bring her some peace. For in her poor Mama’s eyes, Henrietta had seen she could take no more; that it was time for her to leave them. And she had seen the anguish of that knowledge reflected in her mother’s fading eyes.

  “It’s all right, Mama,” Henrietta had whispered, wiping the tears from those hollowed cheeks. “I will take care of them all for you,” she had promised. “I shall try to take care of Papa and the girls just as well as you always have.”

  Her mother’s eyes had closed and Henrietta had stroked her thinning hair, promising over and over that she wouldn’t forsake her father and sisters; that she would be there for them. And, finally, her mother had let go.

  A noise startled Henrietta out of her reverie. She jumped up. “Is someone there?” she called.

  She heard it again: the snapping of a rotting branch. Then she saw someone - or something: a huge, something which was watching her through the dense trees. Henrietta let out a startled scream and ran.

  Chapter Four

  Damn it!

  He hadn’t meant to frighten her. But she had looked so sad. Even so, it had been stupid of him to think his nearness would give comfort. What comfort could he possibly bring to her? He was a monster!

  He would do well to remember that.

  Emerging breathlessly from the forest, Henrietta spotted Mr Briggs and waved to him. She was still panting heavily when he reached her.

  “Are you well, Lady Henrietta?”

  “Yes, I’m fine. I … well, I had a bit of a scare back there.” She pointed towards the forest.

  “What scared you, my Lady?”

  The estate manager’s robust presence calmed her considerably. “I’m probably being silly. It’s just that I thought I saw something in the forest. Something … well, rather large.”

  To her surprise, a look of guilt crossed the manager’s face. “Lady Henrietta, I’m terribly sorry. I should have said something.” Mr Briggs tone was filled with regret. “It’s just I knew the poor creature had suffered and I thought only of giving him some peace.”

  It was disconcerting to see the usually stoical estate manager looking so out of sorts.

  “You are a good, kind man, Mr Briggs,” Henrietta said, placing a consoling hand on his sleeve. “Tell me what happened.”

  Mr Briggs nodded. “Of course, Lady Henrietta. It is right that you, of all people, should know.” At Henrietta’s nonplussed look, he added, “You’ve been playing in that forest since you were a little girl and I know what it means to you.”

  “You’re right: it does. So tell me, Briggsy,” she said, using her childhood name for him, “what did I see in there?”

  “An ogre, my Lady.” He waited but Henrietta said nothing. She couldn’t: she was too stunned. She nodded for him to continue. “It was several months ago now. I was travelling back from the city and it had grown quite dark. The horses started making a fuss and, at first, I thought I was about to be ambushed. Then I saw it. A large shape to the side of the road. I called out but there was no answer so I climbed down and went to see what it was. The creature was in a bad way, my Lady. There was blood seeping from wounds on his head, back and legs. I wasn’t sure what I could do or even if he was still alive - and then I heard him groan. I managed to get him to stand and together we got him into the back of the wagon.”

  “What had happened to him?”

  “He had been hiding in the woods near a village, doing no harm to anyone from the sounds of it - but you know what people can be like. They didn’t want him there, so they threw rocks at him and chased him away from their village.” He shook his head. “Even that wasn’t enough. They thought he might come back, so they beat him and left him for dead.”

  “He didn’t fight back?” Henrietta asked.

  “No, my Lady. He was afraid; afraid that, in defending himself, he would kill one or all of them. He is not the monster these people thought him.”

  “And now he is here?”

  “I gave him sanctuary, Lady Henrietta.” Briggs grimaced and looked shame-faced. “I told his Lordship I had taken on a new gamekeeper - and I did: sort of. I gave the ogre leave to remain in the old gamekeeper’s lodge for as long as he wished and, in exchange, he keeps the forest free of poachers.”

  Henrietta stared at the dark line of trees. An ogre - here? In her forest? What havoc would the ogre’s presence cause? The forest was her sanctuary too and, though it seemed selfish, she wasn’t sure she wanted to share that with anyone - let alone such a creature as this.

  “Do you trust him, Mr Briggs?”

  “Oh yes, my Lady! I would never have allowed him to stay if I thought he was a danger to anyone. I’m sorry. I should have said something about this before - it’s just I was sure the ogre would keep to the heart of the forest. “ He looked worriedly back towards the trees. “I never thought he’d venture this far.”

  “I don’t like the idea of keeping this from father and, well, I know the girls don’t venture into the forest but still .…”

  “Of course, my Lady. I will speak to Lord Pemberly and tell him what I have done.”

  “No, Mr Briggs; not yet.” Henrietta didn’t like to keep things from her father but the ogre had, as yet, done nothing to cause any harm. “Let us keep the ogre a secret for now.”

  Henrietta moved carefully through the house. She didn’t want to come to the notice of her sisters. Her intention was to change out of her walking clothes and into a day dress then go to the kitchen. It wasn’t every day one found out an ogre lived on one’s property. It was most certainly an occasion that called for a spot of pie-baking.

  Crossing the vestibule, she heard voices coming from Lord Pemberly’s study. She was about to hurry past when someone mentioned her name. She stopped. Prudence was speaking to Papa and she sounded angry.

  “Please! Do not make light of this matter, Papa!”

  “Come now, Prue. Why this sudden obsession with Henrietta marrying?”

  “Because you have allowed Cecilia and Millicent to come out!”

  “Well? What was I to do? They insisted.”

  “For goodness’ sake! You could have told them they had to wait another year or two! They shouldn’t be allowed out in society until Henrietta is married!”

  “Good grief, Prudence! Cecilia and Millicent aren’t looking for husbands! They just want to go dancing and
have some fun. They are still girls!”

  “Oh, Papa! You can be so blind at times! They are sixteen and seventeen and they are intent on having a little too much fun!”

  Henrietta didn’t catch what her father said next but Prudence replied very firmly. “It is your duty - as their father - to see that all your daughters marry well; and that will not happen if you allow things to continue as they are.”

  Henrietta crept away.

  She chewed on her bottom lip, pondering Prudence’s obvious concern. Perhaps she had been a little dismissive of her sister’s badgering. After all, wouldn’t she be concerned if it were the other way around? If Prudence hadn’t married Miles when she was nineteen - if she hadn’t had Miles to marry, even - then there was no doubt in Henrietta’s mind that she, Henrietta, would not have allowed the younger girls to go out in society. Henrietta would have insisted that Prudence’s needs must come before theirs - and that was what her sister was now doing for her.

  She dearly loved Prudence and she really did understand why she wouldn’t let the matter rest but … still. It irked her that Prudence had gone to Father behind her back. Prudence should know by now that Henrietta would never marry out of social duty. It had to be true love or nothing. And if that love existed only in her world of fantasy, then so be it because, at least there, the world was exactly as she desired it.

  Chapter Five

  Sipping her tea, Henrietta let her sisters’ chatter wash over her. She had still to make up her mind about what to do concerning the ogre. That he was in the forest at all felt strange - almost as though he had become part of her secret world. Strangely, his being there, rather than frightening her as she was sure it ought to have done, offered her a degree of comfort. For some time now, Henrietta had felt something in the forest. She hadn’t known what it might be; it had just been an awareness of something that had not been there before. It had occurred to her that it might be poachers, which was a far more unsettling thought than an ogre.