Darkwood

by Rosemary Smith

  ‘Silvia,’ he exclaimed. ‘Estelle and I were just about to go into the drawing-room. I hear from mother that you have had some bad news today.

  As he spoke, my thought was that he was most courteous this evening, and for the first time had called me by my Christian name. The questions burning in my mind were, was my future husband feeling guilty or was he softening towards me? I fervently hoped it was the latter.

  * * *

  The evening did not go well. At the dinner table each time I glanced at Estelle she was watching me and then returned to flirting outrageously with Jared, who was obviously enjoying the attention and was flirtatious in return.

  It was obvious to me that they were both trying to upset Gareth and myself, for my part at least it didn’t work. I had no interest in my ruthless cousin. Aunt Rachel watched the pair throughout the meal and Gareth sat opposite me glancing in my direction while we talked with Uncle William. We were all like pawns in a game of chess and I idly wondered who would make the first move. I was to find out the next day that it would be Aunt Rachel.

  Next morning after an early breakfast my intention was to seek out my aunt. Walking across the hall smoothing the skirts of the green dress I wore, I encountered Mrs Trigg who told me I would find her in the morning room. I made my way to the corridor which ran to the left at the back of the hall, opening the first door I realised it was a small library, books were stacked neatly around the shelves, four comfortable red armchairs had been placed around a table in the centre of the room.

  Thankfully the walls in here had not been painted blue but a deep red to match the furniture, the whole room looking inviting. Closing the door I walked farther down the corridor. The sound of voices slowed me and as I reached the next door I could hear Aunt Rachel’s voice. ‘I’ve told you many times before, Estelle is out of bounds to you.’ For the second time in as many days I realised I was eavesdropping as my aunt continued, ‘You are to stay away from her and that is an order.’

  ‘I’m a man now, not a boy,’ came Jared’s reply. ‘And I shall do as I please. I notice that you do not admonish Gareth.’

  ‘Gareth adheres to my wishes, and I should be most pleased if you would do likewise.’ Aunt Rachel’s voice was firmer than I’d ever known it.

  ‘We shall see,’ Jared said. ‘I don’t care for these confusing demands you are making.’ As he spoke I realised that he was approaching the door, so gathering myself together I tapped at the door.

  On pushing it open I came face to face with my cousin who looked at me and his mother with some disdain, and without so much as a good morning left us. I wondered what kept the lovely Miss Benedict apart from my two cousins.

  ‘Good morning, Silvia.’ My aunt’s voice sounded softer again. ‘You are early today.’

  ‘Yes, Aunt,’ I replied looking around this delightful room which was decorated in a soft green, the sun already streaming through the window, a ray of which cast a light on the highly-polished writing bureau at which Aunt Rachel sat.

  ‘Have you any idea where the key is to Grandmother’s writing desk?’ I continued.

  ‘No, dear, we’ve never found it. And your grandfather said that nothing was to be touched in that room except for my mother’s clothes.’ This I had already discovered I thought. ‘So why do you ask?’ my aunt queried.

  ‘I need to write to Grace,’ I replied and knew exactly what Aunt Rachel would say.

  ‘You can use my desk with pleasure, Silvia,’ she said rising from her chair and gathering up the papers she was writing on.

  ‘I’d prefer to use my grandmother’s, although I thank you for your offer,’ I said with a sense of discontent. ‘Surely Aunt, now Grandfather is no longer with us the rule no longer applies.’

  My aunt looked at me for some seconds before she spoke. ‘You are quite right, Silvia. Who am I to prevent you using your grandmother’s desk. As we can’t find a key, I will send Douglas to your room to lever it open.’

  ‘Oh, thank you,’ I said with some joy, running over to my aunt and kissing her cheek.

  She smiled. ‘And while you are here, Silvia, I have to say we have to organise the invitations for your wedding.’

  ‘Invitations?’ I queried. ‘Why surely there is no-one to send any to.’

  ‘We need to invite your Great Aunt Annie and her daughter, Constance, and then there is Estelle,’ Aunt Rachel explained.

  ‘Oh well,’ I conceded. ‘Perhaps we should do it now.’

  ‘No, dear, tomorrow will be soon enough, I hear today you are to take Isabel to Tavistock.’ I sensed displeasure in my aunt’s voice.

  ‘Why yes, I wish to do something nice for her, for her life obviously holds little to interest her other than the piano.’ At my words, Aunt Rachel smiled. I knew she would understand for she also had a kind heart.

  ‘May I join you?’ she asked.

  ‘Why of course, I’d very much like you to,’ I said with enthusiasm. We made to leave and suddenly I turned back to my aunt, a thought occurring to me. ‘Aunt Rachel, why has Lizzie’s portrait been damaged?’

  As I spoke she turned back to me. ‘I didn’t know it had been,’ she said with some concern. ‘Did you locate it in the attic?’

  ‘Yes, Aunt, but someone has slashed at your mother’s face with some sharp instrument. It quite upset me,’ I said, a tremor in my voice as I recalled the day I had found it.

  ‘I will look into it,’ my aunt said, squeezing my hand. ‘Let it not spoil our visit to the dressmaker. I will ask Douglas to come up to your room on our return. Now let us get ready.’

  Duly we collected Isabel as promised. I noted that she had made some effort to look her best. She wore a pale blue worsted dress with a black lace collar, a blue cameo brooch pinned to the neck and a black shawl across her shoulders. The black bonnet decorated with blue flowers which she wore, suited her, and as she smiled at me on entering the carriage I realised that I was right, she had a pretty face and given the right circumstances would look quite enchanting.

  ‘How fortuitous, Miss Harvey,’ enthused Caroline Peacock as she let us into her establishment once more. ‘Your gown is ready for fitting.’

  ‘Fortuitous indeed,’ I replied. ‘But first I need to choose material for my bridesmaid,’ I said, leading Isabel forward. Caroline looked her up and down and went to lead us into a different room from our previous visit, but I stopped her.

  ‘No Miss Peacock, I wish to choose a silk for Isabel, a blue silk to match her eyes.’

  ‘Why yes, of course Miss Harvey, quite appropriate.’ And she led us into the room holding the bales of silk, while Mother and Aunt Rachel looked on, I chose a beautiful cornflower blue which I’d spotted before.

  ‘This will be admirable. Do you agree, Isabel?’ I said to her seeing her eyes light up with pleasure as she touched it.

  ‘Oh, thank you, Miss Silvia. I can hardly believe my good fortune,’ she said, and nor could Caroline Peacock I thought, as we were taken to the fitting room. While Isabel was measured, I instructed Caroline that I wished her to have a gown similar to mine which Miss Peacock agreed.

  ‘Now let us try your gown.’ So saying she led me behind a wooden screen. Aunt Rachel assisted me while my mother sat on a chair in the corner. Caroline returned with another young woman carrying my wedding gown.

  As I saw the ivory silk laying across their arms, I felt a great sense of anticipation which I had not expected to feel. The skirt of the dress which must have held yards of material was placed over my head falling perfectly over my hooped petticoat, the back was secured with hooks and eyes then the fitted whale bone pointed bodice was put on by Caroline, after which the young woman did up the many hooks and hand stitched eyes at the front.

  The silk felt soft on my arms and I suddenly seemed like a different person. As I looked in the full-length mirror I had the desire to twirl around as the effect was astounding. With my lace veil and flowers I would be fit to marry a king.

  ‘You look beautiful, Silvia,’ my mo
ther and aunt both observed in unison, their hands covering their cheeks with obvious emotion. As I looked down at the shimmering skirt I could see the braid showing a little below the hem to preserve it and the long-sleeved bodice fitted my figure perfectly, my hair seeming even darker in contrast to the ivory of the gown. I was captured in the moment and felt a sudden longing to walk down the aisle to Gareth, but alas I had two more weeks to wait.

  ‘You are pleased with the result, Miss Harvey?’ Caroline’s voice cut into my thoughts and I was transported back to the present.

  ‘Absolutely delighted,’ I enthused. ‘I thank you and your seamstresses from the bottom of my heart.’

  ‘We should remove it now,’ Caroline said, ‘as we need to do the finishing touches.’

  ‘One moment,’ I said as I thought of Isabel and walked out from behind the screen, the skirts of the gown moving as in one with me. Isabel had been sitting on a chair wearing her bonnet ready for our departure.

  At the sight of me she stood up, walked slowly towards me then around me. ‘You look so lovely, Miss Silvia. Am I really to wear a gown similar to this?’ she asked, a pleasing smile lit up her face and her eyes sparkled.

  ‘Indeed you are,’ I replied. ‘You will look lovely, and I’m so glad to witness such enthusiasm, you will make an admirable bridesmaid.’

  ‘I promise I shall do my best, Miss. You are most kind.’ As Isabel spoke I knew that the smile now would not vanish as she had something to look forward to. I could have hugged her, but decorum and Miss Peacock hovering around me obviously protective of her creation prevented me from doing so.

  As we left, Caroline said that she would deliver both gowns to Darkwood in ten days time, bringing her senior seamstress in case there were any alteration needed on Isabel’s gown.

  I felt the whole morning had been a success and on the way back to Darkwood could think of no-one but Gareth. On our arrival back at Dark-wood as if in answer to my thoughts as we stepped into the hall, I could see Gareth was waiting for us, lounging lazily at ease in one of the armchairs. At the sight of us he stood up and walked towards me.

  ‘Silvia, I wish to speak with you alone.’ As he spoke I looked around at my mother and aunt but they showed no opposition to this, so Gareth continued. ‘In view of your dislike of blue walls, I suggest to talk in my mother’s morning room.’ As he spoke he made for me to follow him which I did like a lamb, my only wish was that I’d had a chance to refresh myself, but Gareth was, I realised, one who would catch the moment.

  As I entered the morning-room for the second time in one day, I thought how restful this room was and that Gareth had chosen well.

  ‘Please remove your bonnet, Silvia,’ Gareth said quietly. I did as I was bid and laid it on a table by the door. ‘Now please sit in the chair by the mantel.’ He indicated a small green armchair between the window and the fireplace. I sat decorously on the edge of my chair, smoothing the skirt of my green dress around me and wondering what this was all about. Gareth knelt on one knee before me and opened a red velvet box which contained a ruby and diamond ring.

  The light from the window caught the stones and as I looked at them with some fascination and awe they sparkled back at me, the sight of it held my attention for some moments and then I looked at Gareth’s handsome face as he spoke, ‘Will you marry me, Silvia?’ His words were so unexpected I was speechless. ‘I’m asking you to be my wife,’ he continued.

  ‘Yes Gareth, I will marry you.’ My heart sang, and for my part at least my words were sincere. As he took my left hand and gently placed the ring on my finger, I knew I was falling in love with this handsome unpredictable man who was to be my husband, and I fervently wished with all my being that one day he could feel the same.

  As he stood up I could see a satisfied look on his face as he smiled down at me. ‘You can stand up now, Silvia,’ and taking my hand he pulled me to my feet. ‘I think a kiss would be appropriate to seal our betrothal.’ Without warning he drew me to him and bending towards me our lips met briefly for the first time.

  His mouth was gentle on mine and I savoured the brief moment feeling quite bereft when he released me, his eyes sparkled as he looked down at me and I was sure something unspoken hovered on his lips.

  ‘We have lingered long enough, Silvia.’ The moment was gone and his voice brought me back to the present, as he gently lifted my left hand, looking at the ring he’d only moments ago placed on my finger. ‘Wear it well, lovely lady, for it is the Hunter betrothal ring and not given lightly.’

  ‘I will treasure it I promise, and to say I am honoured does not do my feelings justice.’ Thankfully I had at last found my tongue and as I spoke I wondered how my cousin would feel if he knew the extent of my feelings for him. But I realised that for the moment at least words I longed to say to him would need to be held in abeyance.

  As we left the room and we made our way together to the hall, I glanced back at the green chair by the fireplace and thought it would forever be one of my favourite places.

  The ruby ring burned delightfully into my hand. As we reached the bottom of the staircase the front door burst open and Estelle stood there dressed in an emerald green riding habit. She looked at us and striding towards us tapping her riding crop against her skirt, I was mesmerised by the wild look in her green eyes and the pure hatred etched on her beautiful face.

  Without a word of warning she lashed out with her riding crop intent on lashing at my face, but Gareth caught it in one hand saving me from injury.

  ‘What are you doing, Estelle?’ he said as he removed the crop from her grasp.

  I noticed blood on his hand where the whip had cut into his palm.

  ‘I find out today, that she!’ Estelle screamed pointing a finger in my direction, ‘She has asked someone else to be her bridesmaid!’ As I looked at the wildness in her eyes I thought she was either jealous to the point of distraction or unstable.

  As I climbed up the stairs to my room, leaving Gareth to calm her I also thought that the whole unpleasant incident had completely spoiled what had been the most beautiful morning of my life.

  7

  I closed my bedroom door behind me and leaned against it, many thoughts tumbling through my head. Since I’d arrived at Darkwood, so many things had happened in a short space of time.

  I couldn’t find Lizzie’s final resting place which irked me somewhat. Nor could I imagine who could have so wilfully damaged my dear grandmother’s portrait and I felt helpless as I had no way of finding out. My only hope was that Aunt Rachel would eventually throw some light on the mystery which beset me, and why did Aunt Rachel forbid Gareth and Jared to associate with Estelle?

  This was in itself another mystery which led me to think of the lovely Estelle’s outburst in the hall, and I pondered over what the outcome would have been if Gareth had not been there to save me. Then the thought of Gareth brought to mind his proposal. Why had he done it? I chose to think he now wished to marry me, but in truth I was sure it was just a gallant gesture on his part to help me feel better about our forthcoming union, and if this was the reason then he was at least a gentleman.

  The thought consoled me somewhat and I walked over to Lizzie’s writing desk. Just as I reached it, the door opened and Aunt Rachel stepped in, accompanied by Douglas.

  ‘I brought Douglas up to see if he could open the desk.’ As my aunt spoke I could see that Douglas had a small flat metal lever in his hand. While he gently manoeuvred it in the lock, Aunt Rachel and I looked on.

  What must she be thinking I wondered, and was somewhat surprised it hadn’t been tried before. For my part I was just anxious to see what my grandmother’s desk held. After a couple of minutes, the front of the bureau fell down with a sudden jolt and the interior was at last revealed.

  ‘You won’t be able to shut it properly, Miss,’ Douglas said to my aunt. ‘A new lock would be the answer. I’ll set to finding one right now.’ With these words he left us. Both of us just stood and looked, neither of us willi
ng to be the first to touch anything. At that moment Aunt Rachel made a decision.

  ‘I’m going to leave you, Silvia, to look through the contents and I trust that if there is anything at all of importance you will bring it to me.’

  ‘But of course, Aunt Rachel, I promise.’ As I spoke I reached out with my left hand to pick up a sheet of cream coloured paper which lay on its own outside the tiny compartments and pigeonholes of the desk. As I looked down I saw the ruby ring flash in the light from the window. I looked at my aunt and could see by the look on her face that she was aware of it also.

  ‘Why, Silvia, you are wearing the betrothal ring. Did Gareth give this to you?’ Her voice held surprise.

  ‘Yes, Aunt, he did,’ I replied almost sheepishly. ‘Only a short time ago in the morning room.’

  ‘To say I am delighted is the truth,’ my aunt said in a quiet voice. ‘For Gareth had thought to present you with it on your wedding day. Does this mean...’ Her voice trailed off, and I knew the reply I could give her was not the one she hoped for.

  ‘It really doesn’t mean anything, Aunt.’ As I spoke the expression on her face changed to one of disappointment. ‘But I can tell you, for my part at least, I am warming to your son. The very fact that he has given me this lovely token of our forthcoming marriage shows that he is no longer so adverse to it, don’t you think?’ I could see the words pleased her as my aunt smiled.

  ‘Indeed, it would seem to be so and I am delighted, for you are a lovely gentle young woman. My wish is that given time, you and Gareth will be blissfully happy together. Now I must leave you and I will see you at dinner unless you have anything to show me.’ So saying she kissed my cheek before leaving me to look through the desk.

  In truth there appeared to be little of significance in it. I held the piece of paper in the light that fell from the window and three-quarters of the way down could make out the name, Lizzie, where the indentation of a pen on the previous sheet had left an imprint, but I could make out little else. I picked up the pen which was tucked in one of the compartments, the nib of which was stained with dry blue ink. As I held it in my left hand, for I was left-handed as Lizzie had been, I imagined her holding it and writing a letter as the sun fell on her smooth skin.