Journey's End (Marlbrook)

by Carroll, Bernadette

  And with these few chosen words, Thomas placed Laura in an unfortunate light and put her firmly in her place.

  Laura wished for a chasm to open in the earth and drag her into its depths, knowing the reprimand to be fair. However, these were not normal conditions. She retaliated. “If you, sir, had not been lacking in your responsibilities as a host, leaving your guest to her own devices, you would perhaps have kept your belongings private!”

  At once, Laura regretted her outburst. “Sir, I must-.” Laura’s eagerness to apologize launched her into action, but her rapid progress obliged him to retreat. Aghast, Laura watched in disbelief as the caretaker stumbled backwards into the corner table, his large frame tumbling alongside it to the floor.

  Thomas did not know what unbalanced him the most - the shock of his fall or her defence, as she lashed out at him, calling him to account. The woman was an enigma. She managed to intrigue, completely confuse, and entertain him - all in the same breath. He acted his part.

  “Madam, if you have quite finished trying to harm me in some physical manner, I will show you to your apartment and be done with you.” So saying, Thomas retraced his steps to the kitchen.

  The second door, Laura now discovered, led to the foyer. The entrance was dimly lit. Laura’s senses were numbed by the opening scene. Once-elegant furnishings lay uncovered - exposed to dirt and decay, they threatened to join the squalor of their surroundings.

  The main hall made her cease her travels. A staircase, fashioned with ample footholds, rose to the top of the house, a curve designed here and there to dodge simplicity, and even in the sparse light, Laura could still behold the structure’s aging beauty. The imagery was effortless to conjure; it was the physical that presented itself as sad and neglected. Laura shivered, hugging her shawl close. An air of gloom prevailed that had nothing to do with the night.

  The corridor on the first floor greeted them with doors appearing at regular intervals, like evenly spaced teeth. The caretaker strode with the confidence of one intimate with his surroundings, his steps large when compared to Laura’s. As the gap between them widened, Laura had to pick up her pace in order to benefit from the light of his flame.

  They entered the fourth door on the right, to stand in a room covered in dust and cobwebs. The caretaker had carried one of Laura’s trunks on their upward climb. He placed the battered object beside the night table.

  Surveying her new surroundings, Laura could see that the grime had been removed from the immediate area of the bed. Her nose crinkled in response to the unique odour that accompanies age, and a thought flickered whether the night would have been so bad.

  Laura refused to glance in the caretaker’s direction, as he placed a candle on the nightstand and gave it life from his own. It was not until he made his bid to leave that formality obliged them to interact.

  “Is there anything else madam requires?”

  Laura ignored his taunt, choosing instead to arrange some of her possessions on the bed before airing her response.

  “I thank you for the trouble you have undertaken on my behalf. And although reluctant to ask for more, the state of the chamber dictates one final request.”

  Immediately wary, Thomas’ senses went on alert.

  “I would have some water and rags to dampen the dust.”

  Thomas fought hard to suppress a grin. Requests, or rather demands, from a gentlewoman were to be expected - but cleaning articles? She continued to surprise.

  “Then you shall have them.” Thomas withdrew without a further word, as he judged enough had been said between them.

  Laura’s world fell silent, and the quiet closed in around her. The chamber conjured a mixture of feelings, the setting strange and enticing. Walls, once richly decorated, had confronted the passing seasons, and the colours that formerly brightened now languished. The owners, Laura decided, were callous in the abandonment of their charge.

  Thomas returned and deposited the rudimentary requests upon the dresser. Laura craved company to help pull her from the room’s stifling grasp. A smile unfolded before she turned to face him, but he, in innocence, rebuffed her by closing the door on his way out.

  Laura focused her venom on the portal that had aided his escape, fists clenched in rage. The man was not only arrogant but also decidedly disagreeable.

  Laura’s speech contained the sound of bitterness with a twist of juvenility thrown in. “People should be more mindful when hiring their caretakers. Why should I waste my energy attempting to be civil with someone so obviously lacking in social graces?”

  Laura centred her attention on the room, the exercise proving a useful distraction.

  Laura worked her way around the chamber, removing dust and grime where she could. Toiletries, huddled together in several small groups upon the dresser, brought back her smile. She handled the objects with care. Varied in shape and size, the bottles sat frozen in time, a period that could be calculated by the depth of dust that encased them.

  This house, Laura knew, was at fault, as it summoned the past and reassembled personal ghosts to overwhelm her. She reached for her journal to impart the evening’s curious events upon the scented paper. By doing so, she hoped to ease her bewilderment.

  “Today, fate decreed that I stray from my original journey. I have been destined to meet a man who is not only lacking in all semblance of manners, but one that in his display of arrogance, draws my tongue. I am loath to admit that I retaliate in such a fashion that mortifies me. The situation I find myself in is where I firmly place the blame for my reprehensible behaviour and is added to, I am sure, by this tragic house that has me captivated.

  I remind myself that, in a short space of time, I will continue my journey.”

  Laura closed the pages, caressing the book before she was prepared to part with it. The leather cover, cool under her touch, provided comfort, the intimacy important when surrounded by uncertainty.

  Glass panes, large and criss-crossed with lead streaks, caught Laura’s eye. Visions leapt into focus of the scene that they would frame in the daylight. Lush fields surrounding the manor, hemmed by stone walls and populated with spring flowers, the decorations wild and dotted at will - a challenge to any artist to replicate. However, she doubted any pleasure could be derived from the immediate grounds. In the meantime, the prospect of an open window promised a faint breeze.

  The panel had not seized as she had expected, and the application of mild pressure produced the desired result, a wind, brisk and fresh, dispelling the stale odours of the room.

  Laura removed her bonnet and freed her hair restricted by braids and pins. Her hands moved in a circular motion, pushing hard at the temples that throbbed. Next, she placed the dresser stool under the window. Perched atop with her hairbrush in hand, she administered smooth strokes to the long strands.

  While continuing her enjoyment of the night, Laura’s eyes followed a faint light moving away from the main house. Recognition occurred and Laura nearly toppled from her platform, the erratic spasm snapping her wide-awake.

  Laura steadied herself. Bearing her weight on tiptoes, she attempted to gain a better insight into the origin of the glow. As arranged, the caretaker would be bedding the horses down for the night.

  “Yes!” Horses require care, which meant the caretaker had left the house and she was now alone. Elation swamped her.

  Laura’s judgment betrayed her as she tied her hair in a loose braid before quietly closing the bedroom door behind her. Her tour of his mysterious realm had begun.

  CHAPTER SIX - Sin

  Excitement surged, lightening steps that theoretically should have been laden with fear. The first chamber disappointed. A replica of her own the room revealed no fresh secrets, the second apartment confirming what would prove to be a monotonous trend. Laura’s enthusiasm dwindled. Two conditions existed. The rooms were either stripped bare or appeared as if the occupants had suddenly vanished.

  One room differed from the rest, its sheer size an indication of the
chamber’s superiority. In the recesses, the former resident’s clothes still occupied the space. Dust was a common factor, and gowns, both brightly coloured and dark, were decorated in the gritty substance, the quality of their fabric stubborn in its opposition to the years. Laura had exposed someone’s personal sanctuary.

  Slightly ajar, the access-way at the farthest reaches of the corridor nagged at the edges of Laura’s sight. Cobwebs stopped at the opening and dirt did not cross the threshold. Laura knew that this was the caretaker's quarters. She had no desire to disturb or pry in his domain. Unlike the rest of the house, he was not the least bit tragic.

  “What business have you in my apartment, madam?”

  Shock liberated the candle from Laura’s grasp and night would have enveloped them had he been without his light. Positioned in the doorway, the caretaker’s body blocked any hope of a retreat.

  Laura’s green eyes were awash with tears.

  Thomas summoned speech. “Did you find what you were looking for?”

  “I did not seek anything, I was merely –”

  “Prying?” Thomas added, relaxing his stance.

  The importance of appearance had escaped Laura. Her hair had lost its silky tie, and was now flowing haphazardly, sprawling about her shoulders before arriving at its natural length, a hand-space short of her narrow waist. Slight waves, a by-product of braiding, added a fullness that was not naturally present.

  Thomas cursed his inadequacies. He had pushed the woman beyond her endurance with his appalling manners. She was obviously distraught. Emotions gathered and heightened his senses. In all honesty, he reached out to comfort her. His hands savoured the glossy strands of her blonde-white hair before his lips, slow and deliberate, searched for the warmth of her mouth. A kiss, gentle and loving, took place.

  Thomas withdrew a slight distance. The woman who had enticed him, summoning his base cravings to the fore, had vanished - a girl with her hair in disarray and a mind in torment had established in her place. He could see the emotional price Laura had paid, and the experience was humbling in effect. In only a matter of hours, Laura, it seemed, had become his private purgatory.

  Thomas removed himself from Laura’s presence. He could neither interpret nor condone his response.

  The warmth of the kitchen offered Thomas few comforts in a battle that had changed fronts. Desire rejected any partitioning of blame, as he visualized Laura reduced to tears. No. Laura would not share his fight. He doubted that she could even put a name to lust or the like.

  Laura stared, without recognition, while she attempted to put some perspective on what had just taken place. The scene re-enacted numerous times, her unruly mind directing her thoughts. Sitting alone seemed to make everything worse. However, Laura clung to one truth. It was her curiosity that had brought about the unseemly event, therefore atonement would save her; she would find the caretaker and apologize.

  In the kitchen, Laura looked on as Thomas stood facing the fire, his body position indicating his depth of thought.

  “Sir.” Laura cleared her throat, a courtesy to inform the caretaker of her willingness to speak.

  Thomas faced Laura, genuine surprise etched upon his handsome features. “Madam, I did not expect to see you again this night?”

  “I am here to express my deep regret for the trouble I have caused.”

  “You have nothing for which to apologize. The responsibility is all mine.”

  “That is kind of you, sir, but it was my meddlesome ways that created this predicament. I am also reminded that I am a guest in your home, and you have my solemn oath that I shall behave like one from now on.”

  Her confession at an end, Laura moved towards the open door.

  “Laura.”

  Thomas used Laura’s name and snatched the breath from her body. Her throat tightened. To hold her position, she had to disregard the physical malfunctions her body exhibited.

  “Miss Jennings, you are a woman alone and I, as a gentleman, accepted you into my care. I took advantage of you in your fragile state, and my only hope is to reassure you that the unwanted “episode” shall not be repeated under this roof.”

  Laura trusted Thomas. Her steps were buoyant as she began her withdrawal, but before the door closed, she faced the caretaker once more.

  “There is one last subject on which I would petition you.”

  The prospect of a request snapped Thomas’ distracted mind to attention. He waited to hear more.

  “May I ask if you have hired help to complete the household chores?”

  A smile threatened to erupt, as Laura confounded Thomas and wrenched him from his serious thoughts. Conflict, derived from an intimate incident, would have most women swooning and crying for days. Laura had placed her personal welfare aside, the mundane routine of living taking precedence.

  Thomas replied, eager to press Laura further. “Once a month, an elderly woman from the village replenishes the stores.”

  Thomas could not help himself, adding his next comment in characteristic fashion. “Of course, madam, if you are sincere in your plans to make amends, I would welcome your assistance.”

  The answer was upon Thomas before he could congratulate himself on his impudence.

  “I am quite sure that it would not harm me to work; in fact, I find the prospect most welcoming.”

  Her response at an end, Laura witnessed the caretaker’s look of surprise, and even though she had confessed to humbleness just moments ago, she withdrew, harbouring a feeling of triumph.

  Thomas’ smile emerged warm and unconstrained. He performed a sweeping bow to Laura in her absence. The woman had proven herself to be a worthy opponent, and she had won that skirmish. Still, he wagered that there would be another confrontation. Thomas’ interest, although aroused, had yet to reach its peak.

  CHAPTER SEVEN - Danger

  The heavy drapes had not been drawn. Shy beams of morning light crept silently into Laura’s chamber, rousing her from a deep sleep. Laura leapt from her bed as though burnt by the sun’s rays. She set upon the washbasin with great haste before returning to the familiar confines of the kitchen.

  On arrival, Laura restored the fire, bringing the lack-lustre flames back to their best. Next, she completed a quick tour of the kitchen, taking mental note of the stores available to her. The porridge was boiling in the hanging kettle, ready to serve, as Thomas entered the kitchen from the courtyard. His ruddy complexion told of his dawn labours.

  “Miss Jennings. I trust your sleep went untroubled?”

  Laura blushed profusely. The caretaker’s basic inquiry reconstructed unwanted memories, the previous night’s confusion reborn. Laura was thankful for the cover the stove provided, the heat a valuable excuse for her usual red hue.

  “Thank you. Sleep came naturally and suffered few disturbances.”

  Without pause, Laura described the contents of the pot, along with the timing of their release, thus avoiding any additional queries in regard to her night-time activities.

  Thomas ate with gusto the first hot meal presented to him since his return, and Laura had her worries alleviated. Her labours were evidently appreciated.

  Thomas ignored the temptation to examine Laura more closely, while she undertook the removal of the dishes. “With a hard day’s labour ahead, food of this quality is indeed a fortunate find. Upon your driver’s return, remind me to thank him for his foresight in deserting you.”

  The caretaker’s tribute cheered Laura, and when he took his leave to begin his chores, she set about waging her next battle - the eradication of dirt.

  The duties of the farm would see Thomas absent for the majority of the day; the sun was about to depart the afternoon sky before his return.

  On completion of the evening meal, Thomas gave flattery a free hand. “My compliments. It appears that you are a woman blessed with a variety of talents and all of them seem to my advantage.”

  Thomas appreciated the cleanliness and order of the kitchen, and with each observation,
Laura climbed higher in his esteem.

  A natural curiosity occupied Thomas’ thoughts. “Forgive me if I appear forward, but since we are residing together, would you care to enlighten me about the woman who shares my home?”

  The fire glowed and the tiredness taking hold was welcoming. Neither the caretaker nor his request raised Laura’s concern.

  “I have lived in London these past months, but have no exciting tale to keep you spellbound. And you, sir?”

  Thomas congratulated the woman. Laura had answered without committing. Thomas had no reluctance to share. He had nothing to hide.

  “I returned from the Americas to undertake the restoration of the Manor. However, I admit that memory did not serve me well as to the demands of the land upon a man. The estate is a hard taskmaster, and ours is a slow re-acquaintance.” Thomas’ mood lightened. “Aye, madam, it is a while since company has joined me, especially a guest who owns a civil tongue.”

  Laura produced a radiant smile, her unfeigned reaction holding Thomas spellbound, her exquisite features animated by her cheerful response. In a day or two, Laura would leave for Marlbrook. Any longer and Thomas would have to reconsider his guarantee of her safety.

  Thomas approached the old oak hutch dresser and removed two bottles and two rose coloured goblets from the cabinet. The glass collided, the crystal chiming its unintelligible tune, as he filled one vessel with aged port and Laura’s with Madeira.

  Thomas nodded to Laura, indicating that she should join him by the open hearth.

  Talk absented itself and, as they sat in quiet harmony sipping their beverages, Thomas saw in his mind’s eye the image they must portray.

  “Sir, at daybreak -?” Laura began, and then abruptly halted.

  Thomas had not anticipated speech. Startled, liquid spilled from his glass to mark the upper thigh of his pant leg. His reaction brought forth Laura’s warm, rich laughter, and he had no choice but to join her.