Journey's End (Marlbrook)

by Carroll, Bernadette

  “Stop, madam! First you haul me from my amusements and then you take it upon yourself to instruct me to take you above stairs.”

  Stunned by Lord Henry’s misunderstanding, Laura felt the blow of his condemning words.

  The error went unnoticed by Lord Henry. “While a welcome change from your constant neglect, I had expected more of a challenge from you before I tasted your delights. Still, I shall not resist your offer and you may rest assured that I will not disappoint.”

  Lord Henry completed a half bow, the clicking of his heels serving to fling the insult in Laura’s face.

  Lord Henry remained ignorant of his blunder. “I am at your bidding. Lead on Miss Jennings, your bed awaits.”

  Mortified, Laura threw Lord Henry’s hand aside as though horribly burned by the offensive item. Had another not relied on her, she would have slapped him hard for his conceited comments and not given a damn as to the outcome but, she would not let Molly down. Drink accepted the fault, and Laura gave credence to the account - not as an excuse but to allow her to stifle her suffocating anger. Duty called for her to make him understand and with haste.

  “Sir, it is imperative that you pay close attention to what I have to say.”

  Laura ignored the stupid, drink-induced grin that Lord Henry displayed and continued her explanation.

  “One of your companions, as we speak, is in the throes of, of-” Laura grappled for the words that were adverse to her, “- molesting one of the maids. It is my intention to stop this indiscretion. I ask you to ensure that no harm comes to anyone in your household.”

  Laura again searched for Lord Henry’s hand while continuing the uphill climb to Molly’s chamber.

  Just short of their destination, Lord Henry assumed control. “All right, all right. Slow down, madam. Let me do the leading.”

  The maid and her problems were secondary to the fact that Lord Henry had Laura to himself. The experience of her hand within his was sufficient to make him want more. He considered how easy it would be to just drag Laura into one of the neighbouring rooms and have her. Sampling her would free him of his insidious desire. Except that, deep down, he knew that in Laura’s case this would not be enough. Damn the woman, he thought, and he released her from his grip.

  “I shall enter the room alone, assess the situation and decide what action is to be taken. In the meantime, you make ready to see to the girl. If any harm has befallen her, you shall see to her needs. Do you agree?”

  “Yes.” Laura aired her answer, as the door closed soundly behind Lord Henry.

  Minutes passed before the two men exited, arms about each other’s shoulders, swaying down the corridor and away from Laura and her light.

  Laura sat with Molly, adding what comfort she could. Physical contact had resulted, but Molly did not record any permanent damage.

  Laura skirted the real issues, but Molly was accepting. She shared none of Laura’s reluctance to discuss the topic, the girl a woman far surpassing Laura in worldly knowledge.

  After the excitement, the kitchen surfaced as cold and lonely, a cup of tea Laura’s sole comfort. Laura used the seclusion to reflect upon the drama that had unfolded. Lord Henry had discharged his obligations, she supposed, as any gentleman would, but his allegations, spoken while in his drunken state, she could not dismiss.

  Since their first meeting, Laura’s instincts had tried to warn her, and it grieved her terribly to think that she had been right all along. Laura’s disappointment in Lord Henry was rife.

  The door opened, and Laura started at the unaccustomed sight of his Lordship standing in her domain.

  Lord Henry immediately recognised Laura’s fears and set out to still them.

  “Madam, I hope you will forgive my intrusion.” He did not require a response. “I am here for two reasons. First, I seek assurance that you and the maid have not been too affected by this evening’s events. My friend, it seems, has developed a more than obvious gap in chivalrous behaviour.”

  “You do not have to apologise for my benefit,” Laura began. “You did what was expected of you and for that you have my gratitude. Molly is a resilient wee thing, but without your intervention, I dare not think what might have happened.”

  Laura thought Lord Henry looked tired and the word came to mind: vulnerable.

  “I have a second request, Laura.”

  Lord Henry used Laura’s name as though they were equals and her anguish doubled.

  Lord Henry controlled the moment. “I recognise that this may not come naturally, but allow me to begin by stating that I can offer no excuse for my earlier behaviour except to inform you that drink played its part.” He added in quick succession. “Would you object if I sat with you awhile? I have developed a preference for company that makes no demands of me,” he said, as he took up residence at the kitchen table opposite to where Laura had abandoned her cup.

  Laura prepared Lord Henry a hot drink, not out of consideration of his needs, but because the gesture kept her occupied.

  They sat in silence, at peace in their relative solitude. Lord Henry relaxed. Laura’s face displayed exhaustion, set in the hollowness around her eyes, and he realised that even at this late hour, stripped of the trappings of grooming, she captivated him.

  Remorse, Lord Henry soon discovered, as with any new sensation, proved exhilarating but only until the novelty had worn off. Tonight’s mistake had undone all his hard work, his weeks of preparation and effort abolished in one moment of carelessness. Somehow, he would have to regain Laura’s respect if he ever hoped to possess her.

  CHAPTER TWENTY – Deception

  Everything shone with a gleam obtained from many hours hard labour. Decorations, chosen for their vivid hues, adorned the sober framework of Marlbrook, the grandeur of the ballroom designed to mesmerise and delight. The gardens, along with their connecting pathways, had been manicured and embellished with lights. The landscape’s beauty commanded as much attention as its interior counterpart. Laura thought preference a decision she would not like to make.

  Sarah had been beside herself for nearly a week. “I can dance just as well as any of those stupid women. And I am more beautiful.”

  “You know that you cannot attend the ball and that there is no argument you could possibly put forward to change your circumstances.”

  Laura felt sorry for Sarah but had no inkling of how to console her. On the other hand, neither could she issue a reprimand as she too confessed envy for a night that promised to enchant.

  The weather remained warm for the ball, a sprinkling of rain the sole, spasmodic deterrent from an otherwise perfect night.

  When a final inspection of the kitchen indicated that everything was as it should be, Laura made her way to her chamber to dress. The time approached for the festivities to begin, and Laura was eager to take her seat in the gallery. From there, she would view the kaleidoscope of colours, as the women in their gowns added the final touch to the richly decorated hall and the gentlemen supplied harmony in their dashing formal attire.

  Lord Henry Marlbrook rightfully claimed to be descended from royalty, his heritage apparent in his manner. All eyes were upon him as he prepared to welcome his guests. His mother had positioned herself to his right, with Miss Emily taking up residence on his left, the two donating balance to a portrait worthy of commemoration.

  Lord Henry and Miss Emily made a striking couple. Lord Henry, the Nordic prince with his blonde locks, and Emily a princess. The dark scarlet hue of Emily’s hair was accentuated by the golden glow of the candles as they flirted with her dress of glittering gold.

  Lady Catherine had chosen a gown of subdued colour that covered the spectrum between purple and black. Elegance, hers by right, was supported by the cut of her garment with diamonds called upon to enhance the setting. The gems sparkled in a dance routine with the light. Her hair, two-tone grey in parts, was swept high upon her head, adding the illusion of height and perfecting the ensemble.

  Mesmerised, Laura could only stare
in wonder at the grandeur of the occasion.

  “Ain’t it glorious,” declared the parlour maid, seated beside Laura. “What a sight for tired eyes.”

  “That’s for sure,” Molly added, taking up her position. “You could be one of them there ladies, Miss Jennings.”

  “That’s lovely of you to say, Molly” Laura replied, “but my feet hurt far too much to dance after doing my chores.”

  The gallery erupted into a chorus of laughter.

  The evening promised to sustain secret aspirations. Laura’s dreams served to animate her smile, transforming green eyes into pools of loveliness that were wasted on the night.

  Ladies with varying degrees of beauty engaged Lord Henry, bothersome in their cries for his attention, but to one woman only he looked often. Laura was his desire.

  Blissfully unaware of any unwarranted attention, Laura appeared to be the only one to have missed the event, for both Miss Emily and Sarah had not.

  At length, Laura made her way back to the industrious circus of the kitchen, accompanied by the squalling sounds that musicians emit while tuning their precious instruments.

  Anticipation swelled as the audience waited for the conductor to liberate the music. The crowd could be heard to gasp as the melodic notes were released. The recital made a brief attempt to compete with the frantic atmosphere of the kitchen but soon forfeited the struggle.

  Temperamental hysteria dominated the kitchen. Cook claimed the privilege to be overwrought, and since circumstances warranted her condition, the poor scullery maid bore the brunt of her abuse.

  Laura thought the word “lively” adequately described the scene, as she set about stirring one out of the vast array of pots that covered the range. Her recall tirelessly recreated the splendour that she had been fortunate enough to witness. The open access way at the top of the stairs went unnoticed.

  A dramatic silence brought the trespasser’s existence to everyone’s attention. The elegance of the man’s dress riveted all eyes upon the intruder who had dared disturb the sanctuary of the kitchen during their finest hour.

  Laura’s response was automatic. Her hand smoothed her wayward hair, recapturing the escaping tendrils, as she made her way to greet the visitor. She could not fathom why a gentleman would invade the kitchen unless, she supposed, he had taken a wrong turn. If he proved to be here for any other reason, Laura trusted it was not to complain. An incident of any sort would serve to dampen her enjoyment, and she was loath to let go of her dreams without a fight.

  Familiar eyes met Laura’s, traces of arrogance still discernible in their dark ebony hue. Remembrance jarred Laura’s world.

  “Ma’am, I trust on such a grand night that I find you in good health and absent of worry?”

  Laura felt the heat of embarrassment swamp her, as images reconstructed in her mind of their last ardent embrace. She was consumed by the physical nearness of him. “Indeed sir, you find me in good spirits.”

  Thomas added softly. “I have missed you more than you can imagine, Laura.”

  Thomas’ voice reflected the want to say more but trailed away when he acknowledged the restrictions of their surroundings.

  Thomas made a splendid figure in his evening attire. A handsome man in looks and in body, every bit the gentleman, his aristocratic appearance confirming what Laura had always denied. She held herself to account, condemning her folly.

  “You are a guest at the ball.” Laura’s statement would not stand challenge. Many instances had pointed to his class, but she had chosen to ignore them all. The truth would now punish her.

  “Laura, I have long sought an excuse that would bring our paths together again. Tonight’s festivities have provided the pretext.” Thomas used honesty to soothe Laura’s fears, now that he had identified them.

  Laura realised that the congregation below would be listening. The multitude would be straining to hear, endeavouring to gain an insight into what was taking place. Rumours in this environment took hold quickly and would be circulating even as she spoke.

  “Is everything satisfactory, cook, or do you require my assistance with some chore that is impeding your continuance?”

  Laura’s query prompted a hasty return to work. The incessant bustle of the kitchen immediately resumed.

  “Perhaps you would do me the honour of agreeing to accompany me on a walk within the grounds, as it is not often that I get to see something so beautiful.”

  The double meaning of Thomas’ words served to reproduce the scarlet hue that was swiftly becoming Laura’s hallmark.

  The two exited through a side entrance.

  Fear of discovery overshadowed Laura’s rapture. Her position would be in jeopardy if she were caught fraternising with a guest. However, tonight Laura decided to banish common sense from her being.

  The path they strolled led to the lake, and they walked without the bother of small talk, content just to have each other near.

  In the semi-darkness, Thomas searched for Laura's hand to help guide her. The touch brought the two to near climax, their love strong and compelling.

  Thomas fought to conceal his ardour and to steady his nerves before engaging Laura in conversation.

  “Progress has been made on the manor, Laura, so much so that you would hardly recognise some areas. The work continues to consume my daylight hours, but my plans are well underway and I am content with the advancements.”

  The tranquil air, damp from the rain, encompassed them; however, Laura doubted that she could lay fault with the weather for the warmth she was experiencing.

  Thomas had timed his entrance perfectly. The first dances were underway, thus occupying the majority, and the evening was yet too early for sweethearts to take a stroll. Secure in the knowledge that they were alone, they walked arm in arm, ease mounting with each step.

  The lakeside welcomed strangers. Open to its charms, the couple viewed the water’s tranquil surface, as the house lights bestowed a make-believe aspect on everything they touched.

  Thomas faced Laura, his want clearly portrayed, and she could not deny him. His hand reached out in the darkness drawing her close, his mouth binding her to him.

  The lovers became lost in the experience of the caress, an act teeming with emotion. When the lingering kiss ended, Thomas held Laura close; he required a degree of discipline before he could again seek the solace of her lips.

  “Sir,” Laura struggled to retain control of her emotions. “I cannot cry innocent nor do I intend to, but I must confess that I still experience doubt.”

  Silence prevailed, their longings visible to both.

  “Good evening, Lord Ashley.” The high-pitched screeching erased any charm that the moment might have promised. “It is a beautiful night, do you not think?” Again, the ugly noise probed where it was not welcome.

  Miss Emily draped herself on the arm of a gentleman who looked to her with large, puppy dog eyes. She cracked open her fan, frantically waving the item about as if she were suddenly annoyed with the object. However, her focus remained firmly on Laura.

  “I find it highly unusual that a servant is out walking with one of my guests, madam. Your mere presence is personally offensive,” Miss Emily stated, her formal, condescending tone designed to strike fear into her enemies.

  Laura failed to offer a response, as wrongdoing tied her words.

  “Miss Emily,” Thomas greeted, while bowing to kiss the Lady’s hand, “Your company is always a delight. However, I am afraid you may not choose to return the compliment as it is I you must rebuke.” Thomas continued to hold Miss Emily’s hand firmly in his. “I am responsible for this young woman’s predicament; therefore, it is I that you must punish in anyway you deem fit.”

  Miss Emily responded to Thomas’ cavalier attitude with childish glee.

  Thomas knew he had beaten Miss Emily at her own game. “You see, I am acquainted with your servant through her travels to Marlbrook and, without appearing immodest, I can state that I saved her life. You, of all people,
ma’am, know that a gentleman’s code is binding.”

  Thomas’ manner, Laura noted, held the same traces of mockery that she had first experienced with him. Cautiously, Laura glanced at Miss Emily. Thomas’ comments appeared to have done their job. The lady acted beguiled, and Laura gave credit to Thomas, who obviously knew his target well.

  Miss Emily held everyone’s attention. “You, sir, are deserving of a commendation on the one hand and warrant a chastisement on the other; however, I suggest in the meantime that the Lady’s maid be excused. She has chores to perform and should be allowed to complete them.” Miss Emily glared at Laura, displaying unconcealed contempt.

  Laura curtseyed and hastily thanked Lord Ashley for his interest before leaving the intimate party behind her on the lawn.

  Thomas reprimanded himself. Pen had committed to paper his expectations for Laura to read, his writings a declaration of his love and his hopes for their future. Now he was undone. He had bungled the delivery.

  The kitchen door closed behind Laura. Internal reprimands would come later in the privacy of her room, but in the meantime she hid her frustration, refusing to air her problems or put them on public display. She snapped an order and went back to work.

  Exhausted by the day’s events, when Laura finally retired to her chamber, her journal beckoned. She longed to share the sensations that Thomas’ kiss had produced and the desire his touch had aroused in her body. Feelings demanded of her but had nowhere to go.

  Unsophisticated in her beliefs, Laura had thought her natural reactions conquered. She believed them buried deep in some dark, unseen crevice, but instead they sat with her, a pen her lone weapon with which to dispel them. Hurriedly, she donned her night attire before writing.

  “Today Thomas re-entered my life with a zest that has caught me and pulled me along, and to myself I state that I know I have experienced love.

  I believe him to be sincere, but the circumstances surrounding our social positions have me concerned. I find I am reluctant to start a journey that might not have a happy ending. Still, while I write these words, I realise that it is perhaps already too late. I sleep with thoughts of Thomas in my life.”