The Curse at Rose Hill

by Camille Oster

  "And what will my duties be?" Emmeline asked.

  Mrs. Thornton regarded her as if it was a queer question. "Duties? I suppose we'll think of something."

  "I apologize for my ignorance. I have never performed as a companion before, so this is new to me. But I am a quick learner and I expect that I will pick up whatever I need to in due course." Emmeline tried to reassure Mrs. Thornton that she hadn't made a disastrous choice—at least she hoped so.

  "You are, of course, expected to behave impeccably at all times. Anything less would be unacceptable. Gentlemen friends are strictly prohibited, as is any overindulgence in alcohol. You are expected to go to sleep early. I like to keep an early schedule myself. In the mornings, we will write letters. I write to my son at least every other day. Occasionally, we will have to go to town, to the post office, or other things that may be needed."

  The clock chimed somewhere and Mrs. Thornton looked out the window. "It is growing darker. Joseph, take Miss Durrant upstairs and then ensure all the windows are shut."

  Emmeline wasn't sure but she thought she heard a slight tremor of wariness in Mrs. Thornton's voice.

  "It gets truly dark here at night," the woman said. "If it is a night without the moon, it's black as pitch and one cannot see one’s very hand for looking." Then she brightened. "It rains too, of course. This is the tropics and rain is more common than not. Thunder and lightning light up the sky. I hope you're not frightened of such things."

  "I've never been known to be.”

  Mrs. Thornton studied her again. "Good. You do not seem to be the fearful kind. This is a place where fears can run amok, Miss Durrant. You would be wise to keep that in mind."

  Emmeline couldn't think of anything that was particularly fearful about the island, but then she didn't know if there was anything to fear. As far as she knew there were no dangerous wild animals. It was the tropics, so no doubt there would be all manners of creepy-crawlies—snakes even.

  "I'm sure you want to settle in before dinner."

  "Of course,” Emmeline said and smiled, feeling the dismissal. Putting her tea cup down, she followed Joseph, who led her out of the room and down the hallway. Again, everything was either white or very dark wood. She was led down a corridor to a door that opened into a bright room, with a large window and curtains that blew in the breeze. That breeze would probably be a blessing. From what she knew on the ship, the nights did not cool down so very much in the Caribbean.

  Joseph walked forward and pulled the shutters closed on the window. "Best keep the night out," he said. "Madam prefers it that way."

  "Of course," Emmeline said with disappointment before thanking him as he retreated from the room, closing the door behind him.

  Her trunk was already there, sitting in the middle of the floor, already open and unpacked. Her effects were on the dressing table and her clothes hung away in the wardrobe, or folded into drawers. Her nightgown hung over a chair in the far corner. It felt strange having someone else go through her things; it felt like an intrusion, but they had intended on being helpful. Still, it was quite disconcerting, and there wasn't anything for her to do now.

  Drawing a deep breath, she sat down on the bed and looked around what was to be her home for the near future. There was no way of knowing how long she would be here; it could be years for all she knew.

  Had Mrs. Thornton said it was now only the two of them in the house? Emmeline couldn't quite recall, other than the woman's son, Percy, being away at University.

  Perhaps she ought to have a little nap before dinner. It had been a very long day, with endless new sights, sounds and experiences. The very air was different here from what she was used to; there was a lushness to everything. Smells were more pungent, flowers more vibrant and the sun much harsher.

  Hopefully she would be very happy here. Mrs. Thornton appeared to be a reasonable woman. Maybe it was a good thing there was just the two of them in this house. This way, she didn't have to worry about anyone behaving inappropriately. That was the one thing she worried about being sent away from her home to go find a new place in the world. In her position as companion, she didn't necessarily have a lot of power against the will of others if they chose to be less than gentlemanly. And she was Mrs. Thornton's to command.

  Writing letters in the morning did not seem like a bad life. Emmeline was sure she would be happy here, if not perhaps a little bit sparse for companionship. Providing companionship was her role, and this woman truly seemed in need of one.

  Chapter 3

  Darkness had settled quickly. One moment it was day, and the next moment Emmeline looked up, it was dark. Getting up from her bed, she walked to the window and unclasped the shutters. There was total blackness outside, the moon bright like a glowing orb in the sky, but the land dark, absorbing all of the moonlight amongst the canes. There were a few pinpricks of light in the distance, but she had no idea what was there. Joseph being asked to close the shutters well before dark was odd, but she didn't dwell on the strange behavior.

  Unlike the darkness, she had more difficulty settling, not yet managing to shed the excitement of what was really an extraordinary day. There was something disconcerting about Madam Thornton, though, but she couldn't put her finger on it. Perhaps it was this place, how quiet it was. From what she'd seen, it was a large house, but it was inordinately quiet.

  Checking her pocket watch, she saw that it was getting close to seven and she would have to report for supper. Hurrying, she turned her attention back to the room and dressed. After a wash and rest, she did feel refreshed, even if sleep had eluded her, probably because arriving here meant such a significant change in her life.

  With a deep breath, she checked her reflection in the mirror and made her way out of her room. The hall was quiet, the floor covered with a pink carpet, camellias depicted along it, white and darker pink flowers with light green leaves. The walls were papered with matching silk. This house had the prettiest décor she had ever seen. Everything seemed so sumptuous, with fine furniture and carpets.

  The dining room on the right side of the house, lit brightly with candles on both the table and in a beautiful chandelier. Mrs. Thornton was already at the table, and Joseph was serving her, pouring dark wine into a crystal glass. "You're late," the woman stated.

  "I apologize. It might be that my watch is running a little late. I will have to check it in the morning."

  Emmeline sat down and noticed that there were only two place settings. "Is no one else joining us?"

  "Who were you expecting to be joining us?" Mrs. Thornton said sharply.

  Emmeline noted she had perhaps been a little forward in asking and looked down. It seemed there was no one else coming. "I'm sorry. I just assumed there were others."

  "No, no others. My Benedict died some months ago," Mrs. Thornton sniffed.

  "I am sorry for your loss."

  The woman seemed a little mollified. "I suppose you have not really suffered loss as an orphan, or not any that you remember."

  "You still feel the loss even if you don't know anything about them," Emmeline admitted. In fact, she had been told nothing at all about either of her parents. She didn't even know when she was born, exactly, or where. As with most other girls in the orphanage, she had assumed it was in Boston, by one of the many women who served the men transiting through the port. Because of this, extra attention had always been given to their piety, ensuring there was no threat of their base origins coming through in their characters.

  A fish tureen was placed on the table by Joseph, who was wearing white gloves as he served. Taking off the lid, he stirred it and there was a creamy sauce inside. Wonderful smells filled the room and Emmeline's stomach responded in delight.

  "Don't dawdle, Joseph," Mrs. Thornton said. "We can't wait all night."

  "Of course, Madame," the man said and picked her bowl to bring it to the tureen. He ladled a portion of the steaming soup and replaced it in front of her. He then repeated for Emmeline and she smiled her
gratitude. Her mouth watered with the lovely smell.

  "Cut some bread, Joseph," Mrs. Thornton said as if exasperated, but she turned her attention back to Emmeline. "Your dress is made of wool. It is entirely inappropriate for the heat here, you know."

  Emmeline smiled tightly. "I am aware. It is more suited to the climate in Boston. I didn't have time to sew a new dress before I left."

  The woman sniffed. "Not during the entire voyage? I suppose it hadn't occurred to you what was appropriate and not."

  How could she politely say that she hadn't had the means to purchase materials for a new dress? Things had happened too quickly for her to save enough money to purchase the materials needed.

  "I take it you know how to sew?" Mrs. Thornton continued.

  "Yes," Emmeline responded, trying to look unruffled by the woman's clear disappointment in her.

  "I suppose we will have to go to town so you can purchase the appropriate materials. Unless one knows what one is looking for, visitors can often choose badly. Muslin is best, of course, but too many naïve visitors end up displaying themselves indecently as soon as it rains."

  "I will keep that in mind." During the brief trip through the township, Emmeline did notice that most women wore white or cream-colored dresses.

  Roast pork was brought out next and so far, this was the richest meal Emmeline had ever had. It was all expertly cooked, full of flavor and succulent sweetness.

  "Joseph," Mrs. Thornton called. "I think we need a fuller red. Go see if you can find something better."

  "Yes, Madame," he said and disappeared out one of the doors.

  "No cellar here, of course. It never gets cold enough, so there's no point."

  Joseph returned before long with another decanter of red wine.

  "Thank you," Mrs. Thornton said and it was the first time Emmeline had heard her say thank you to anyone. "We will have to go into town tomorrow if it's not raining. What do you think, Joseph? Will it rain tomorrow?"

  "If so, in the late afternoon."

  "Joseph is good with the weather. He should be. Lived here all his life. Haven't you, Joseph?"

  "Yes, madame," he said with a smile.

  "Worked the fields for many years. They know all about the weather. You were born here, weren't you?"

  "Yes, madame."

  "Never lived anywhere else but on this plantation—before the plantation was in the Thornton family back then. He came with the estate, like most of the others."

  It felt as if Emmeline should say something, but she couldn't think of anything to say.

  "Things never change all that much around here. One day is the same as any other, you will find, Miss Durrant. Maybe we should have some sherry in the parlor. Joseph, help me up."

  Joseph moved to assist Mrs. Thornton and she swatted him away as soon as she was standing. "Come," she said to Emmeline, who followed her into the next room, where they sat down along a sofa group. "I am glad you are here," Mrs. Thornton said as she got comfortable on the sofa, "but you will have to get used to a less driving pace than you are used to in Boston."

  The pace was perhaps more brisk back home, every minute of the day scheduled. Mrs. Thornton had guessed right in that regard.

  "We rarely have visitors out here, and equally, we rarely seek the entertainment in town. Once in a while. It helps to be choosy about such things."

  The windows were all shuttered here in this room as well.

  "You will find," Mrs. Thornton said, "that some gentlemen turn quite feral in these parts, away from their families and the bosom of civil society. Not all, of course, but some. It plays tricks on susceptible minds. More than one have been driven mad by the heat. You would do well to not associate with them, especially the likes of our esteemed neighbor, Lord Cresswell. No doubt you will come across him at some point. Notorious rake. Stay clear."

  The name meant nothing to Emmeline, but then they were rarely given any kind of society news in the orphanage, or at the school where she had subsequently taught.

  "The darkest of men," Mrs. Thornton warned ominously. "Quite mad. Given himself over to drink and depravity. The Cresswell plantation is just about destroyed under his stewardship. You'd do well to stay far away from men like him, particularly him."

  "Is he nearby?"

  "His lands begin beyond the jungle crestline just to the west." Mrs. Thornton seemed to remain deep in thought, then shuddered. "Nice family to begin with, but once the current lordship took over, things have not been right over there and any God-fearing person should stay clear."

  "Of course," Emmeline said, concerned to learn that there was such a despicable character neighboring the property. She would make sure never to stray over there. Perhaps this explained why Mrs. Thornton was so adamant on closing all shutters at night, to block out whatever madness had gripped this man.

  Madness was never entirely escapable. Naturally, lunatics were carted away to institutions when found, but she was aware that with the wealthiest of families, the law seemed unable to deal with such men unless the family expressly wished it. Perhaps that was why he was hidden away in the Caribbean. Someone had once told her that the nobility tended to hide their most shameful secrets in the West Indies, including murderers and adulterers—even madmen.

  Chapter 4

  The early morning had a stillness and even a measure of chilliness with the moisture in the air. Emmeline walked outside, keeping close to the house itself while she surveyed the environment she found herself in.

  The sun had only just risen, but the colors were deep and rich everywhere she looked. Birds squawked as they flew over the fields, leaving their places of slumber. Figures stood along the cane fields in the distance, as did a man on a horse, milling around the edges of the fields.

  The air felt heavy, much more so now than it had in the evening. It might've been the overwhelming nature of arriving in her new place in the world that had stopped her from noticing, but the air was very different here. Even the feel of the air was different, let alone the scents it carried.

  Rich grass softened her steps as she walked around the house, trying to establish the lay of the land. Turning the corner, she saw the edge of the jungle and the far hills that signified the end of the property, and where another began, that of Lord Cresswell. He sounded like a strange figure and she hoped never to meet him.

  Mrs. Thornton hadn't risen yet and apparently wouldn't do so for another few hours, which contradicted what the woman had said the previous day. Joseph had offered her breakfast, but Emmeline had said she'd wait until Mrs. Thornton rose and they could eat together. It was, after all, the role of a companion to spend time with her patron. So, she would wait and take her breakfast when Mrs. Thornton was ready.

  Emmeline's gown was heating up with the excursion and would likely be intolerable once the sun was high in the sky. She remembered from the ship how she would have to retreat to her cabin during midday when the sun burned as they'd drawn closer to the Caribbean.

  Perhaps it is early mornings that would be her time for exercise as there would be little chance during the day. Mrs. Thornton did not look like a woman who enjoyed a great deal of exercise. Emmeline hadn't learned what Mrs. Thornton enjoyed doing yet, but that would come, she was sure.

  "Miss?" A man said behind her. "Can I help you?"

  Emmeline turned to see the man on the horse looking down at her. She'd been too distracted see him approach. He wore a brown leather hat and sat casually in the saddle, surveying her. Under the hat was a handsome face and what looked like dark blond hair.

  "Oh, I'm sorry. Am I not supposed to be here?"

  "That depends on who you are."

  "Miss Emmeline Durrant. I am Mrs. Thornton's new companion." She held her head high, trying to convey that she was perfectly in the right to be here. She might actually not be allowed around the fields, but she didn't know that.

  "Tobias Hart," he said and tipped the edge of his hat. "I'm the foreman. I manage the fields and the estates beyond
the house."

  "Oh," she said, "well I'm pleased to make your acquaintance." She did a quick curtsy and he turned his head slightly as if it was a curious thing to do.

  "You are, of course, welcome to walk anywhere you wish, Miss Durrant. I would take care for there are snakes throughout the fields."

  "Snakes?" she said, feeling discomfort creep up her spine. Of course there would be snakes; she just hadn't thought of it.

  "They like to live in the canes, scuttling out when disturbed. They are not dangerous for the most part, but some are… disturbed by the presence of such creatures. Their appearance is an omen in these parts." He looked away across the fields. "There are a lot of strange beliefs down this part of the world." For a moment, he looked lost in thought. "More dangerous snakes live in the jungle—strong ones that can devour the unlucky whole."

  Emmeline swallowed hard. Why hadn't she even considered such dangers when she'd accepted this role?

  "I would stay away from the jungle if I were you," he continued. "Anyone who goes in there should know what they're doing."

  "I hadn't realized the surroundings were quite so hazardous," she said with a weak smile, feeling slightly breathless.

  "If only snakes were the sum of dangers in the world. On the whole, they are more scared of you than you are of them. Still, a young lady, such as yourself, shouldn't be careless."

  "Thank you for the warning, Mr. Hart. I will heed it."

  With a click of his mouth, he urged his horse forward, bowing his head slightly to her as he rode away. His seat was comfortable in the saddle. He'd obviously spent a great deal of time on horseback.

  As opposed to what Thornton said about most of the people working on this island being Irish, Mr. Hart definitely sounded English.

  Emmeline watched him ride away, returning to the edge of the field where he rode back and forth at a very slow pace, keeping an eye on the work in the fields. He'd behaved decently enough and had warned her of the things she needed to watch out for. Snakes; she hadn't even thought of it. Although having no experience with such creatures, she feared them all the same.