Death of a Duchess

by Nellie H. Steele

  When I awoke, the sun had risen. I sat up and stretched. I had decided at the first opportunity to apologize and promise to be a better child. I considered seeking out my mother when a knock sounded at the door. My mother pushed through into the room. She appeared well, her hair kempt, her dress changed and her expression chipper.

  “Good morning, Lenora,” she said with a smile.

  “Good morning, Mum,” I answered, pleased to witness the change in her. She eased onto the edge of my bed, taking my hands in hers. I squeezed her hands. “I am sorry for being a wicked child…”

  My mother shook her head, putting a finger against my lips. “Hush, child. We shall not speak of it. Instead, I have a surprise for you!”

  “A surprise?” I questioned.

  She nodded. “’Tis your birthday in a few days’ time,” she said.

  “Yes,” I responded. “But I shall tell no one! I shall insist it is not until 1 November.”

  “Lenora! Do not interrupt whilst I tell you about your surprise!” I bit my lip, lowering my eyes. “For your birthday, I have planned a special trip for us!”

  My face rose, meeting her gaze. My lips formed a grin and my eyes widened with excitement. My mother smiled, pleased at my response. “Oh, how exciting it shall be!” she continued.

  “When will we leave?” I queried.

  “After breakfast!”

  My grin widened. “Where are we going, Mum?”

  “That, my dear Lenora, is a surprise! Though we must pack a few things for you! And we must hurry, Lenora. We cannot dally if we hope to leave on time.”

  I nodded, scurrying from my bed. My mother pulled a small, worn suitcase from the hall into my room. She plopped it on my bed and flung it open. I assisted her in packing a few dresses, a nightgown, and a pair of shoes. As she snapped it shut, I grinned at her.

  “And now we shall have breakfast and be on our way!”

  I giggled and clapped my hands. I rushed through my breakfast, eating all my porridge with no complaints. My legs swung under my chair with unbridled excitement. My mother offered a smile as she cleaned the pot at the sink. I grinned back at her, a giggle escaping my lips as my enthusiasm brimmed over.

  In addition to my exhilaration over the adventure, it pleased me to see my mother happy. When I finished my breakfast, I carried my bowl to her to wash and helped her with the remaining breakfast chores.

  After we finished, my mother said, “All done! Ready, darling?”

  I nodded enthusiastically. She took my hand and led me to the foyer. She draped my cape over my shoulders and gathered my suitcase in one hand. Her fingers closed around my hand and she led me outside.

  “Where is your suitcase, Mum?” I inquired as we stepped out of the house.

  “I sent my things ahead!” she informed me.

  A horse-drawn carriage awaited us at the end of our walk. The sight made my mind whirl with possibilities. I trembled as we climbed into the carriage, unable to contain my elation.

  We traveled for over an hour before the carriage teetered and ground to a halt. The coachman knocked at the door and opened it. “Stuck in a ditch, ma’am. Could you and the child climb out while I try to free it?”

  My mother’s eyes went wide. “No!” she breathed.

  “It is not too chilly, and the sun is shining. It should be warm enough for the child.”

  “Please, try to hurry,” my mother urged as we stepped down from the carriage.

  The coachman spent half an hour freeing our stuck transportation. My mother paced the entire time, biting her fingernails. I attempted to soothe her, but she remained distraught over the delay.

  Finally, the carriage pulled free of the ditch and we boarded and were off again. As Glasgow came into view, I glued myself to the window. The buildings and city’s bustle excited me as a child. The city seemed mysterious and intriguing. I could not wait to explore it with my mother.

  I glanced back at her; a smile stuck on my face. “May we visit a toy store?” I asked.

  My mother offered a coy smile. “We shall see,” she answered.

  The carriage wound through the city’s streets, arriving outside of a large, ornate building. As we disembarked, my mother spoke a few words to the coachman. He nodded and leaned against the carriage. My mother wrapped her hand around mine and we ascended the stairs to the building.

  Mum pushed open one of the doors and pulled me into the large foyer. I gaped around at the space. I had never seen a space so large. The stones creating the floor seemed larger than me! Colorful stained-glass windows rimmed the length of the area, placed every few feet. The sun passed through the windows on one side, casting soft colors across the gray stones.

  The scene delighted me. I raced to each window, studying each with great interest. They depicted various religious scenes. I skipped from one to the other, even examining the unlit windows carefully.

  The colors splaying across the floor enchanted me. I imagined them coloring my light skin and tinting my clothes, turning me into a living piece of stained-glass. I held out my hands, inspecting the mosaic of pigments embellishing my skin color.

  My multicolored hands brought a grin to my face, and I waved them around to catch different tints. I spun in a circle, feeling like a mythical creature come to life.

  The appearance of a woman in a nun’s habit interrupted my frolicking. “Mother Superior,” my mother greeted her.

  “Mrs. Hastings, I did not expect you.”

  “My apologies, but the situation is quite urgent. May we speak in private?”

  The nun glanced between my mother and me. After a moment, she gave a curt nod. She approached me. “Appreciating the stained glass, child?”

  I nodded. “Yes, very much.”

  “Let me show you where you can view more,” she promised, reaching out to take my hand.

  I glanced to my mother, unsure. She nodded at me. “Go on, Lenora.” I took the woman’s hand and allowed myself to be led away. Before we rounded the corner to leave the entrance hall behind, I glanced back. My mother fidgeted with her gloves as she stared after me. She wore an odd expression on her face. I failed to understand its meaning at the time, though as I aged, I understood it all too well.

  It marked the last occasion I would see my mother. Mother Superior left me in the care of two other nuns, one older and one younger named Sister Mary Margaret. She whispered something to the two nuns before stalking away.

  Sister Mary took me to the courtyard. It amazed me to find a garden wrapped inside the building. I spent an hour exploring the greenery, staring up at the open sky ringed by the stone buildings and learning about the plants.

  “This is wonderful!” I exclaimed. “May we show it to my mum?”

  Sister Mary Margaret’s eyes grew wide at the request and she smiled but did not answer. The older nun with us, Sister Thomas Aquinas, informed me my mother was not to be interrupted. I nodded, figuring I would show her later when we reunited.

  Time wore on and after a while I began to grow restless, as a child of six usually does. “Is my mum still busy?” I questioned.

  The two nuns exchanged a glance. Mother Superior’s return interrupted any answer they may have provided. “The child is asking for her mother,” Sister Thomas Aquinas informed her.

  Mother Superior’s stern face turned to me. “Come with me, child,” she requested, holding her hand out to me.

  I grasped her hand in mine and followed her, expecting to be reunited with my mother. Instead, she took me to an empty office. She sat me in a chair and rounded a large wooden desk, settling behind it.

  “May I see my mum?” I asked.

  She did not respond for a moment. I fidgeted in my seat. “Your mother had to go away,” she stated at long last.

  I frowned. “When will she return?”

  Another long pause filled the air between us. “You will stay with us for the time being.”

  My forehead crinkled as I tried to process the events. “But…”
/>   “Do not talk back, child. You shall remain here until such time as your mother returns.”

  “Did she say when she plans to collect me?”

  “No,” Mother Superior said. “Now, come along.” She stood and rounded the desk. “I shall show you to your room.”

  That night I lay on the small cot in the tiny cell. No windows graced the space, only cold stone. I longed for my bedroom at home, for my dolls, my bed, my window overlooking the back yard. It would only be for a short time, I told myself as a tear rolled down my cheek. I would reunite with my mother soon.

  Chapter 20

  Samuel gurgled and fidgeted in my arms. My mind snapped back to the present time. I stared at the child. “I will never understand how you did it, Mum,” I whispered.

  “Your Grace,” Ella said from the doorway. Ella’s eyes darted around the room. “Is everything all right? Has… Has she returned?”

  “No,” I answered. “Annie has not returned.”

  Ella stepped into the room, approaching and leaning over my shoulder to coo over Samuel. “I heard you speaking and, for a moment, thought it was to… well, you know. I did not realize you were only speaking to this precious babe.”

  I smiled at Samuel. “I’m afraid my mind was wandering to my own childhood as I fed him.”

  “In the orphanage, Your Grace?”

  I shook my head, rising to lay Samuel in his bassinet as he settled to sleep. “No,” I confessed, returning to my seat. “Before the orphanage, I lived in a convent and before that,” I said with a sigh, “I had parents.”

  “Did they pass on when you were still very young?” Ella asked, her innocence showing.

  “No.” I swallowed hard, composing myself before I continued. Emotions swirled in my head and my heart from the recollection of the painful memories. I hoped to avoid them spilling over for Ella to witness. “Just before my sixth birthday, my mother took me to a convent. She abandoned me there. I never saw or heard from her again.”

  Ella’s jaw dropped and she knit her brows. “But why? And what of your father? Oh! Forgive me, Your Grace! It is not my place!”

  I waved my hand at her. “Your request is not out of line. My father departed for India months before. My mother became increasingly disturbed. My ability troubled her. I suppose she could no longer tolerate it.” I glanced wistfully at the ceiling, focusing on nothing in particular. I shrugged, firming my resolve and burying the volatile emotions. I shook my head, dismissing the memories. “I do not understand, though, how she did it. How she walked away from me. I cannot imagine deserting Samuel for any reason.”

  Ella shook her head. “You poor child,” she murmured.

  “For many years, I assumed the fault was mine. It was not until I was much older that I realized the failing existed on my mother’s part.”

  “I should say so!” Ella retorted.

  I glanced to her. “She did not understand,” I offered. “I am not absolving her.” I shrugged again. “But most people do not comprehend my ability. And my mind must create some reason why a mother might abandon her child.”

  I remained silent for several breaths as I collected my thoughts. When I glanced to Ella again, she offered a slight smile. “Anyway, let us not dwell on the matter. It is no longer my life.”

  Ella nodded. “We shall focus, instead, on the future. And it appears quite bright with this little fellow!”

  The next week consisted of reviewing letters of interest for our nursery positions. Mrs. Thomson and I conducted several interviews before I selected a nanny and a wet nurse. Nanny Browne, a small, middle-aged portly woman with a resolute demeanor and a steady tone, exhibited attentiveness toward Samuel which pleased me. She would be assisted by Clara, who would serve as the child’s wet-nurse.

  I found myself unable to part with Samuel on the first evening. I requested that he remain in my quarters overnight. There had been no further instances of Annie visiting the child. However, I remained more comfortable keeping him close. While the sentiment may seem coarse, I chose to keep the child near to me.

  Robert and Ella continued to assist me in monitoring Samuel. Annie did not return. Not for Samuel, nor for me. I remained uneasy. Annie’s non-presence frightened me more than when she showed herself.

  I wandered the halls in search of her. She hadn’t disappeared. Where was she hiding? I checked in at the nursery several times per day. In addition to keeping a watchful eye, I enjoyed spending time with Samuel.

  I often rocked him to sleep before his naps, singing him lullabies. One evening, as I dressed for dinner, Ella mentioned Nanny Browne’s annoyance with my behavior.

  She fussed with my hair longer than I hoped. “Leave it,” I instructed. “I would like to check on Samuel before dinner.” Her eyebrows raised as she glanced to me in the mirror. “What is it?” I questioned, noting her expression.

  She shook her head. “Nothing, Your Grace.”

  My eyes narrowed at her. “There was meaning behind that glance,” I insisted. “What is it? Do not be shy, Sinclair, say what is on your mind.”

  “I should not spread gossip, but I feel you should know, Your Grace.”

  “Know? Know what?”

  Ella bit her lower lip, then met my gaze in the mirror’s reflection. “Nanny Browne has mentioned her displeasure with the amount of time you are spending in the nursery.” Ella continued to fuss with my hair as she chattered on. “I suppose I ought not to have told you, but she finds your behavior unusual and ‘unbecoming of a lady.’ Her words, Your Grace. I do not consider it right, her talking about you in that way.”

  I raised one of my eyebrows. “I see. You were right to inform me, Sinclair.”

  “She mentioned that your ‘meddling’ indicates some lacking on her part. As though you do not trust her to care for the child.”

  “That is not the case at all! I enjoy tending to Samuel. I realize it is not the trend, but I shall not have my life dictated to me!” I railed for a moment before considering Nanny Browne’s viewpoint. I pursed my lips and shrugged. “Though I suppose I understand her frustration. I hired her to care for the child but prevent her from completing her job.” I sighed. “I shall attempt to not ‘meddle’ in her affairs.”

  Ella met my gaze again. “She does not understand the situation. She lacks knowledge of the threat in the house.”

  “Annie has not shown any interest in the child or anyone, for that matter, in over a week,” I told her. “Ah! You’ve fixed it!” I exclaimed as she managed to smooth the wayward piece of hair into my hairstyle.

  “Yes!” Ella answered. “It is perfect now.”

  “Thank you!” I leapt from my seat, pacing the floor. “I suppose I shan’t check on Samuel until after dinner, lest I face Nanny Browne’s wrath.”

  “Does it bother you greatly, Your Grace?” Ella questioned. “You seem perturbed.”

  “No, it’s not that,” I responded, continuing to pace. “It is Annie. Or rather, the lack of Annie.”

  Ella’s brows raised. “If I were you, I would prefer not to have encountered her.”

  I reached the end of my route, spinning and returning across the room. “I do not prefer it. Something is odd.”

  “Odd?” Ella queried.

  “Yes, odd,” I responded. “Where is she? Where has she gone?”

  “Perhaps she has… you know.” Ella glanced to me, flitting her fingers in the air.

  I rounded the bend, making another trip across the room. “No,” I responded with a shake of my head. “No, she has not gone.”

  “Are you certain?”

  “Fairly, yes,” I answered. “No, she is lurking here somewhere. The question is when will she pop up again and what will she do when she does?”

  Ella shook her head. “I am sorry, Your Grace. This must be frustrating and worrisome for you.”

  “It is, though there is not much to be done about it.” I threw my arms out, allowing them to slap against my dress. “Well, I suppose I shall go to dinner.”
>
  “I shall see you after, Your Grace. Enjoy your meal.”

  “Thank you, Sinclair.”

  I exited the room, resisting the urge to go to the nursery before presenting myself for dinner.

  Robert and I dined alone, discussing various topics. “The weather has been marvelous of late,” Robert mentioned.

  “Indeed,” I agreed. “I have enjoyed watching the spring greenery begin to come to life from the tower’s windows.”

  “I propose we take in the spring greenery at a closer view.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yes, I thought tomorrow might be an excellent day to take you riding. It seems Annie’s disturbances have died down and I expect an outing might be enjoyable for you.”

  I considered the proposition. We had discussed my learning to ride before we adopted Samuel. Samuel’s arrival changed our plans, particularly after Annie’s interest in him. Given that there had been no incidents with Annie and the child, I did not see the harm in it. “It sounds like an excellent proposition,” I responded with a smile. “And it will help keep me out of Nanny Browne’s hair.” Robert’s eyebrows raised, and he stared at me, waiting for me to continue. “Sinclair informed me Nanny Browne has taken issue with my interference in the nursery.”

  “Interference?” Robert questioned. “How dare she? It is your house and your child!”

  “I may hover too much,” I confessed. “Most women do not spend as much time in the nursery as I. She views my impingements as a slight on her abilities as a nanny.”

  “I am certain your judgement in the situation is appropriate.”

  “Still, I did not check on Samuel before dinner. And our riding expedition will keep me away for some time tomorrow. It will allow Nanny Browne room to breathe.”

  “I do hope you enjoy it,” Robert mentioned. “The grounds are lovely in the spring.”

  “I am certain I will,” I assured him.

  The next day brought another sunny, warm spring day, perfect for my riding lesson. While I did visit the nursery in the morning, I allowed Nanny Browne free rein from mid-morning on, turning my attentions to my riding trip.