“What an interesting shade of green,” Priscilla said, breaking Margaret’s reverie.
Margaret’s hand shot up to the scarf and realized how horrid the colour must look against the rose-coloured dress she chose to wear that day. “I was just trying it on,” Margaret answered feebly.
Lady Thornton smiled.
The bell above the door rang out again and Margaret could see Julia stepping into the shop. Instantly, Margaret was reminded of her true purpose for coming to town. “Miss Stratton, do you by chance have any siblings? A sister near the age of sixteen, perhaps?”
Priscilla furrowed her brow and shook her head. “No, why do you ask?”
“For a second I thought I recognized you,” Margaret explained. “I see I was mistaken. Do have a good day, ladies.”
Margaret bought her green silk scarf and wore it out of the store while tucking her other one into her reticule. Julia fell in line slightly behind Margaret as they walked. “What have you discovered, Julia?”
“Nothing much, I’m afraid. I have a list of names but none of them belong to our young lady.”
“I think it’s fairly obvious I was no help,” Margaret said. “Wherever I go someone recognizes me. I can do nothing without the entirety of good society taking notice. It’s so constricting I could just scream.”
“Why can’t we ask at the constabulary?” Julia asked. “Perhaps someone has reported her missing.”
“I imagine that is what my brother will do,” Margaret said, “but I am less inclined.” Margaret exhaled and glanced to her maid. “There is something about this girl. She’s absolutely terrified and I fear returning her home will do more harm than—” Margaret stopped when she spied a man with a top hat and valise not too far in front of her. At first he looked around the street, as if in awe of the quaint buildings and shops that made up the tourist town. When his face turned toward them he smiled broadly.
“Jonas?”
Chapter 4
Its hollow ways torment me now
And start a cold sweat on my brow,
Ainsley found it difficult to concentrate on his sketches in the library while The Briar practically bounced with life thanks to all the unannounced visitors. His sanctuary had been tainted and the respite from the city he sought had been reduced to ash. Less than twenty-four hours prior he had been enjoying the exclusive sound of the rain pelting the window panes with nary a care as to what happened beyond the stone walls. Such reprieve was a distant memory now. He wondered how long it would be before he could claim any space as his own again.
Earlier he had stumbled upon Hubert and George in the cupboard hidden in the wall. It was a small section carved out of the space beneath the stairs. The doorway had been fashioned to match the paper and trim of the rest of the room, creating a seamless door alongside the fireplace. Its original purpose had been long forgotten in the history of The Briar but as children Ainsley and Margaret used it for picnics on rainy days as well as to spy on their parents until such activity became too painful to watch.
Ainsley now heard the boys running the length of the halls upstairs, banging doors and evading their appointed nanny. He rubbed his temples in an effort to relieve a pain in his head. He had not slept well and he needed rest. But there would be no rest, he reasoned, not while he ached for calm in his soul. Margaret hadn’t a clue what kind of man he truly was, what he was truly capable of. Prior to that fateful night he wouldn’t have thought himself capable either and yet, possessed by a vengeful spirit, he acted, committing a crime that haunted him still.
Ainsley’s throat grew dry at the thought of it. He wasn’t sorry for what he’d done. He doubted he’d ever feel sorry for ridding the world of such vile filth. But his spirit had been broken by it, jarred and shaken as if caught in a whirlpool of doubt and self-loathing. He reached for the flask tucked away in his inside pocket and downed its entire contents. Even that did little for him anymore.
“Peter!” Aunt Louisa’s voice echoed in the foyer. “Peter, come quick. She’s crawling to the roof!”
Ainsley charged for the guest bedroom, Aunt Louisa at his heels, where Ivy had been placed. He pushed on the door and found it blocked from the inside. Aunt Louisa went farther down the hall and gestured frantically for him to come to her room. “Down here!” she said.
Sure enough, just outside Louisa’s window Ivy stood, clutching the stones that made up the exterior of the cottage while trying not to slip from the narrow sill. She did not see them through the glass and continued inching along. There was one more sill for her to traverse before she could drop herself to the kitchen roof, a later addition to the house that jutted out the back.
Ainsley only guessed she meant to go there, but knew even with a lower roof, it was still a long way down to safety. Ainsley tried the window latch and found it steadfast. The tiny lever pushed deeply into the flesh of his palm as he pressed against it.
“Get the staff outside in the garden with sheets!” he yelled without taking his eyes from the windows.
The sound of his voice so close startled Ivy. Her face turned to the window with a look of panic. Her escape was in jeopardy and she quickened her pace.
Ainsley ran to the next room, startling his two cousins and the bored kitchen maid who appeared to be sleeping in the armchair.
Hubert quickly gathered himself from the floor where he played and positioned himself behind his brother George.
The window latch gave instantly and Ainsley was able to turn the bottom portion of the window. As the window pane swung out, it nearly caught Ivy in the legs, forcing her to stop midstep.
“Ivy, I want you back inside,” Ainsley commanded.
Ivy froze and returned his stern gaze. For a moment, Ainsley thought she might do as she was told, but then her head turned and he realized she was surveying her options.
Below, Aunt Louisa and Nathaniel appeared on the gravel garden path, the kitchen staff filing out after them. There was a chorus of yelps and screams once everyone saw what was happening. Ainsley could see Aunt Louisa trying to coordinate everyone on the ground. They all took a portion of the sheet’s edges and pulled it taut. There was no telling if the sheet would hold against her weight and the force of a fall but it would be better than letting her hit the gravel.
“Ivy… Ivy!” Ainsley yelled to get the girl’s attention. “You are going to fall. Come back inside, now… please.” Ainsley stretched out his arm as far as he could but still fell short. He hoisted himself onto the ledge, slipping his upper body through the small opening of the window. He felt two pairs of little hands clinging to his trousers from inside the room.
“Ivy…” he called to her again, wanting her to look at him, to see his face and not be frightened by the distance to the ground.
But when she turned her head she wasn’t Ivy anymore, but another girl, a girl he’d met many months ago. The same girl who haunted his nightmares.
“Lillian?”
Confusion set in. Lillian had died after a fall such as this. Not straightaway but after lingering for weeks in her deathbed, most likely in pain and unresponsive to anyone or anything. He had offered to operate, perhaps alleviate her suffering, but her family refused. A few weeks later, he received a short note from her sister saying she had finally passed on.
Lillian looked at him sharply. “I’m cold, Peter,” she said. “I’m really, really cold.”
Ainsley swallowed. “Take my hand!” he yelled.
Lillian inched closer, stretching out her hand to him, slowly shuffling her feet along the slender stone ledge.
“It’s all right,” he said, “I can help you.”
Their hands were inches from touching when she stopped.
“I loved you, Peter,” she said, tears slipping down the crest of her cheeks.
Ainsley struggled to get closer. Her eyes searched his face, a look of pain and heartache within. “I loved you too,” he said, swallowing hard to cover up the lie. He inched closer, his fingertips gracing the billo
w of her dress.
Suddenly, her face hardened and her mouth sneered. “You liar!” she yelled, her voice deep and throaty. “You will rot in Hell for what you did! Do you hear me? I’m waiting for you, Peter. We’re all waiting for you.”
She turned unexpectedly and reached for his hand, but before he could tighten his grip around her cold wrist she fell. Time slowed as he watched her descent. Suddenly, all who had been below with the sheets were gone and Ainsley watched Lillian land with a thud. Twisted and mangled, her body lay motionless as a pool of blood slipped out from beneath her. Then her head turned in an unnatural way to look up at him. “Join me, Peter…” Her singsong voice came to him without her lips moving. She smiled slyly and sent a kiss into the air. “I’ll be waiting.”
Ainsley closed his eyes.
“Peter, help her!” Aunt Louisa’s voice shattered his thoughts. When he looked up he saw his aunt, Nathaniel, and the kitchen staff looking up at him, the sheet stretched out between them and his vision of Lillian gone. He turned his head and saw Ivy trying to climb higher on to the roof.
“Ivy, no!” Shaking the weak grasps of Hubert and George, Ainsley climbed farther out the window. He felt the heavy lead glass window bang back into place. The ledge where he stood was only half as wide as his foot and his fingers struggled to find an easy grip on the stone. He was only a foot away from Ivy and he could see her arms trembling from fatigue.
“I …I don’t want to go home,” she said. Her eyes searched for a way out but Ainsley blocked her exit to the kitchen roof.
“You can’t run forever,” he said.
She snorted and looked at him as if disgusted. After a moment of thought she spoke again. “Then my only way out is death.” She licked her dry lips and looked to the crowd, which stood transfixed below them.
Ainsley saw her grip lessen and her body eased away from the wall. She closed her eyes and allowed a smile to overtake her lips. Ainsley released his grip from the wall and wrapped his arms around her waist. With a desperate strength he redirected her fall and together they collided with the kitchen roof. They rolled from the ridge pole down the roof tiles. Ainsley tried to grip the roof with one hand but they were already falling, tumbling down the slope and over the edge.
Ivy landed abruptly, partly on the sheet and partly in the arms of Nathaniel and Jamieson. Ainsley missed the crowd altogether and impacted with the stone gravel that made up the walkway.
“Oh my God!” a kitchen girl screamed and a communal gasp erupted.
The hurried shuffling of shoes on gravel was the only sound Ainsley could hear at first. He had fallen on his stomach, raising his hands as if to catch himself. He felt his body groan as they turned him over, and he spied George’s and Hubert’s little heads poking out of the window from where he originally started.
Jamieson and Nathaniel ferried Ivy to the grass while Aunt Louisa knelt at his side. The sky was a radiant blue, without a single cloud marring the surreal beauty of it. Ainsley waved off her concern, preferring instead to lay back and take it in. The fact that he was still alive to enjoy such a view was marvellous.
“Peter, don’t move,” Aunt Louisa warned as he raised a hand to pull sweaty strands of hair back from his forehead.
Ainsley closed his eyes and he rested his hand on his head. The pain was dull, encompassing every part of him. With each minor movement below his skin he could feel sharp pains, especially in his left knee and rib cage. His mind tried to shake off the images he had seen from the window, and the incomprehensible memories they brought forth. Adding to that, his previous injuries from a prior brush with death hadn’t yet healed. He would have been worried about them were everything, mental and physical, not so damned entertaining.
As he lay on the ground, fully aware of each stone pressing into his sore back, Ainsley smiled. Within seconds his smile broadened and then he started to laugh heartily.
“He’s hysterical,” a kitchen maid said soberly.
Aunt Louisa pulled away, no doubt put off by Ainsley’s nonsensical reaction. “He must have injured his head.”
Ainsley’s laughs grew louder with each passing moment, attracting the attention of everyone in or near the house. He continued on this vein for some time, unable to stop himself, but not trying too hard either. Eventually, his strength waned, the pain became too much. His fit of laughter ended in a deep sigh.
“Forgive me,” he said, “forgive me.” He rolled over and pushed himself from the group, very aware of the tiny pebbles that dug into his palms as he did so. As he gathered himself to stand he saw Ivy nestled in Jamieson’s arms surrounded by the sheet that saved her. Panic and remorse played equally on her face. A maid appeared then with a basin of water and some rags to treat the small abrasion on Ivy’s face.
“The rose bush,” Nathaniel qualified. “I think she received some scrapes from the shrubbery.”
Ainsley nodded and turned away, happy she was not greatly injured, but angered that she had put both of them in such danger. Without putting his full weight on his injured knee, Ainsley turned and limped toward the house.
Chapter 5
Its noise I cannot bear to hear,
“Peter!”
Ainsley heard Margaret hurry into the house, out of breath and panicked.
“Peter!” She appeared at the library door just as Ainsley began to pour himself some brandy. “What happened? Are you all right?”
His first instinct was to confide in her, tell her everything that he saw and felt as he tried to keep Ivy from falling. But he knew it would only upset her more. Little could be done for it now and though his leg still pained him the worst had passed. He knew he would mend if he could manage to stay off his feet for a while.
Julia appeared at the door behind Margaret, her expression terrified at first before giving way to relief at the sight of him.
“Maxwell told us you’d fallen from the nursery window?” Margaret walked the width of the room and came to his side. She looked him over, using a hand at his chin to search for any marks on his face.
“I am right as rain,” he answered, brushing off her concern. He returned his attention to his brandy, drinking the contents of the glass quickly before pouring another.
“I’ll fix a tray for tea, ma’am,” Julia said.
Margaret looked over her shoulder and nodded. “Thank you, Julia.”
It was only when the maid left the doorway that Ainsley saw someone else was with them. Valise firmly in hand, Jonas stepped into the library and removed his hat. “Calamity seems to follow wherever you lead,” he remarked, with a half smile and knowing gaze.
Dr. Jonas Davies and Ainsley had attended medical school together, and continued to enjoy some lighthearted competition as far as their medical careers were concerned. For the time being, Jonas had the upper hand after securing a position within the surgical staff at St. Thomas Hospital, while Ainsley could feel himself rotting away in the morgue.
“Have you come to escape the rigours of city life as well?” Ainsley asked. “I warn you, no respite can be found here.” Ainsley could feel himself scowl. Jonas was like another brother to him and he hadn’t meant for their greeting to be so cold, but after the events earlier in the day Ainsley was in no mood for jovial speech or baseless conversations. Anyone who dared to enter his vicinity must learn to steel themselves against his newfound embitterment.
“Peter seeks solace amongst dead insects and drink,” Margaret explained as Ainsley found another glass for his friend. “Solitude seems in short supply.”
“I can stay in town,” Jonas suggested, dividing his gaze between Ainsley and Margaret. “There is no trouble in it.”
“Certainly not,” Ainsley said instantly. He approached his friend with a tumbler of brandy and exchanged it for the valise. “We can manage, as long as you don’t mind a pair of ruffians streaming through the halls.”
Jonas gave them both a quizzical look.
“Our aunt has returned from India with her three boys,” Ma
rgaret explained, “and I’m not entirely sure she would approve of them being called ruffians.” Margaret gave Ainsley a sideways glance.
Maxwell appeared then and took Jonas’s bag.
“Maxwell, Dr. Davies can be placed in Daniel’s room,” Margaret said.
“Pardon me, ma’am, but Mr. Nathaniel has already been situated in that room.”
“Oh good heavens.” Margaret ran her hand over forehead. “Father’s room then.”
“I don’t wish to be a bother,” Jonas said, stopping the butler from leaving. “I come unannounced.”
“’Tis no bother,” Margaret said. “I’m just not sure when Father plans to return.”
“Or even if he plans to return,” Ainsley interjected. He turned and made his way to one of the sofas. While taking a seat he was careful to lean more on one hip than the other and then stretched his leg out in front of him. He stopped himself from wincing at the pain for Margaret’s sake.
“Lord Marshall hasn’t returned from abroad?” Jonas asked. “I was told no one was residing at Marshall House at present, that you had all come here. I assumed Lord Marshall came with you. How long has he been gone?”
“Nearly a month,” Margaret said. “There’s no reason to expect him anytime soon.” She gestured toward the sofa opposite Ainsley, indicating an invitation to sit down. Jonas nodded but waited for her to take a seat first before settling in on the other end. A space remained vacant between them.
“Perhaps you have come to entice me back to work,” Ainsley said, eyeing the remaining brandy in his glass. “Perhaps a certain supervising surgeon has sent you.”
“Crawford is beside himself.” Jonas gave a quick look to Margaret.
“As he should be,” Ainsley said unsympathetically.
“I think it’s fair to say the hospital needs you, Peter,” Jonas continued.
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