Sometimes, on a wakeful night, she would question whether Harriet had ever suspected that the fruit and sweetmeats she had given her were contaminated. Why else would the other members of the Edgerton staff have fallen ill unless Harriet had sent some of them untouched down to the kitchen? On those sleepless nights, Felicity also had doubts about Ellen – whether she’d guessed that she, Felicity, was responsible for Harriet’s occasional bouts of sickness.
During the daytime, it had been possible with so many new sights, new people and new countries to occupy her mind – for her to forget the precarious position she would be in if Ellen were to betray her; but in the early hours, unable to sleep, she realized that she had laid herself open to blackmail. When she had first decided to use Ellen to spy on Harriet and Brook, she’d banked on the maid’s obsessive wish to improve her sister’s situation. However unnerving though this thought was, Felicity’s longing to see Brook again invariably pushed such anxiety to the back of her mind.
As the weeks of the holiday passed, Felicity’s unease grew in proportion to her compelling desire to go home. Moving from place to place as she and Paul were doing, they’d had no contact with home other than when Paul telegraphed his office in order to update himself as to the firm’s current affairs. As far as Felicity knew, Harriet was still in Ireland, but surely, she thought, both Harriet and Brook must return home soon, if they had not already done so.
In the meantime, Paul had not only grown tired of his sister’s company despite their interesting surroundings and changes of venues, but he was anxious to return to his fiancée in London. He knew Denise would have finished visiting her family and be wondering where he was. Although he had sent her postcards from every place he and Felicity had visited, he wanted his pretty French fiancée back in his arms. He made no objection, therefore, when Felicity expressed her desire to go home.
Felicity would have been even more desirous of returning to England had she known that Brook, too, was on his way home from Jamaica. He had sent a telegram to Fletcher advising him of his imminent arrival so that the staff had the house in readiness. He was unaware of whether Harriet was still in Ireland with her sister, but his pride forbade him telling Fletcher to alert Harriet of his homecoming.
Fletcher assumed his mistress would likewise have received a similar telegram from the master, but having had no instructions from her he thought he should enquire if there were any particular preparations she might wish him to make. A telegram in reply to his arrived by return from Harriet saying she was about to leave Ireland and wished him to instruct Jenkins to have the carriage waiting at Clarence Dock to meet the ferry from Dublin in three days’ time.
Thus it was that three days later, with Bessie and Charlie beside her, Harriet’s coach approached Hunters Hall. The cold winter months had given way to spring, and as Jenkins turned the horses’ heads into the driveway, she could see the delicate green of the beech trees in the surrounding woods of the Edgerton estate, and a few minutes later the lovely red bricks of the house, glowing in the sunshine, came into view.
Her heart filled with a mixture of excitement and fear. Was Brook already home? Would he be pleased to see her? Or would he still be as unforgiving as when he had departed to Jamaica? Despite the heart-warming company of Una and her family, he had been constantly in her mind. As if mirroring her thoughts, beside her Charlie was now demanding excitedly, ‘Is Papa home? Shall we see Papa? Can I show him my new clockwork monkey? Will he see how I am growed?’
Bessie removed his hat from his brown curls and smiled at Harriet. ‘I’m sure I don’t know where he gets his energy from!’ she remarked, smiling. ‘You’d think as how he’d be tired after all that long journey!’
Harriet returned Bessie’s smile and replied to her son, ‘If Papa is not out riding, or visiting Grandfather, I expect we shall see him.’ Her heart was beating furiously in anticipation as the coach pulled up outside the front door and Fletcher came out to greet them.
Harriet lifted the little boy down into Fletcher’s waiting arms.
‘We are expecting the master back this afternoon, madam,’ Fletcher told her as he followed her into the house. ‘We had a telegram from him saying their ship had arrived on time; that Hastings was hiring a coach and they hoped to be home before dark.’
Following Fletcher into the house, Harriet reflected happily that she would have time now to change from her travelling clothes into something pretty. Una’s dressmaker had made her a lovely sky-blue Princess gown, and Ellen would have plenty of time to iron out any creases.
An hour later, feeling entirely refreshed after her holiday in Ireland, despite the long journey, Harriet went down to the drawing room to have tea and await Brook’s return. She had finished her tea by the time she heard the sound of horses’ hooves, and she hurried to the window. The carriage drew to a halt by the front steps, and with Hastings following him, she saw Brook spring down from the coach, cross the terrace and disappear through the front door.
Suddenly shy, a confusion of pleasure and fear engulfing her, she remained at the drawing-room window, not going into the hall as she would have liked to do. She longed to be able to throw herself into his arms but knew she must not. It was now eight long weeks since she had set eyes on him, yet it seemed a lifetime. Although she had been happy at Una’s house, which in many ways had become almost a second home, she was always haunted by the look on Brook’s face when he had accused her of lying to him, and cheating him; she knew that he would never trust her again, perhaps never learn to love Charlie again.
It was now her hope that, because of the baby she was carrying with no sign whatever of a miscarriage, he might relent when he knew she was going to be able to give him his own child. Surely, she’d told herself, he would forgive her now?
Three miles away at Melton Court, Felicity sat reading the note Ellen had sent her via one of the stable lads informing her that Brook was home. In it, she reported the fact of Harriet’s condition.
Felicity’s heart contracted painfully with fear. This news meant that it was more probable than ever Brook and Harriet would be reconciled; that any hope she might have had of winning Brook’s love for herself may have gone. The thought filled her not only with fear but with a devouring anger. IT MUST NOT HAPPEN. She would not let it happen. Feverishly, her mind searched for a way – any way, to prevent it. Paul was back in London and she was free to do whatever she wished without worrying about his intervention.
After half an hour, taut with excitement, she thought of a better way to kill Harriet than her risky attempts to poison her; a way where no suspicion would lie at her door; a way even Ellen could not prove was of her doing. A way without risk to herself.
As Harriet had feared, Brook did not hold out his arms to her when he entered the drawing room. Taking advantage of Hastings’ presence, he greeted her politely. If he noticed her pregnancy, he made no comment but followed Hastings upstairs to change from his travelling clothes, saying he would be down in time for dinner.
During dinner, he was not silent as he had been in the past, but his conversation was entirely impersonal and he did not enquire after Charlie. Not entirely without hope that Brook’s attitude towards her had softened a little, Harriet resolved to emulate him, addressing him only impersonally in the presence of Fletcher and enquiring about his activities in Jamaica. That night he returned to his dressing room.
The next morning Harriet gave Bessie instructions to keep Charlie as far as possible out of Brook’s sight. She could not bear the thought of the little boy’s distress if Brook gave no sign of pleasure in seeing him.
At first there was no sign of Felicity so Harriet sent a letter to her via her groom advising her friend of their return home. Three days later, Felicity arrived shortly before the lunch hour. She was on her way home from Melton Mowbray, she explained, and had not intended to leave so late or she would have called by earlier. Harriet instantly invited her to stay for luncheon, during which Brook encouraged Felicity to tell
them all about her visit abroad with Paul.
During the course of the meal, Harriet remarked on how well Felicity was looking and Felicity returned the compliment, glancing as she did so at the lace flounces falling in delicate folds down the front of Harriet’s bodice, concealing her increased girth. Had she not yet told Brook of her condition? she asked herself. Was Harriet trying to hide her pregnancy from Brook? Was it possible he knew nothing of it as yet? On the other hand, his manner towards Harriet and the tone of voice he used when addressing her were considerably less abrasive, far gentler than before he had gone abroad. Not that it would matter if her plans were to succeed, she told herself.
Her heart thudded with excitement as Brook smiled at her, remarking how well she looked and how beneficial the holiday had been to her health. They must go riding together as soon as he had cleared the backlog of problems on his estate which had arisen whilst he had been abroad, he told her. He had greatly missed their outings. Harriet’s account of her holiday with Una and the children had followed but the child, Charlie, was not mentioned by either her or Brook.
Felicity felt a sudden stab of anxiety as she pondered the possibility that Brook and Harriet might be on the brink of a reconciliation and that the plan she had devised might not, for some reason, work. The birth of the child Harriet was obviously carrying would almost certainly restore their relationship at least to some degree. Any doubts she, Felicity, had had about the timing of her plans now vanished entirely.
The meal over, Brook excused himself, saying he could not stay for coffee as he was meeting their estate manager, Banks, at two o’clock. Bidding them both goodbye, he left the room. As soon as she had finished her coffee, Felicity stood up, announcing that she, too, must leave. As she did so she gave a little cry, saying that she had inadvertently put the heel of her button boot through the hem of her petticoat – ‘Such a silly thing to have done,’ she elaborated, as it could now so easily trip her and cause her to fall.
Harriet immediately rose to her feet and went to the bell rope to summon Albert. He was to find Ellen, she told him, and tell her that Mrs Goodall needed her assistance immediately upstairs in her dressing room.
‘We’ll go straight there, and Ellen shall pin the hem back in place for you,’ she said solicitously.
Felicity’s reply was instantaneous. ‘There is absolutely no need for you to accompany me, dearest.’ She added with a smile: ‘I should know my way there by now, should I not?’ She looped the skirts of her dress together with the undamaged petticoat over her arm and, reassuring Harriet a second time that she need not go with her, she made her way upstairs.
Ellen was waiting for her.
‘Close the door!’ Felicity said sharply, and as soon as Ellen had done so, she added: ‘Now listen to me.’ She took a letter out of her pocket and handed it to the maid. ‘You are to give this to your mistress tomorrow morning immediately after breakfast. You will ensure that there is no one – no one at all – who sees you do this. Do you understand? It is vitally important that you carry out my instruction implicitly. Moreover, you will not mention it afterwards to anyone – absolutely no one else. Do you understand?’ she repeated.
Ellen understood perfectly but made no reply. Although she had no idea what was in the letter, she gauged by Felicity’s tense expression and tone of voice that her holiday had done nothing to lessen her desire to disrupt her employers’ marriage, and that this letter must be yet another ploy to do so.
‘Did you not hear what I said?’ Felicity demanded sharply.
‘Shall I not give it to madam tonight?’ Ellen enquired ingeniously.
Felicity was not deceived by what she perceived were delaying tactics. Ellen was after more money. Angry though she was to be held to ransom by the servant, she had neither the time nor the inclination to barter.
‘You will do exactly as I say, Ellen, and if all proceeds as I intend, there will be a very handsome bonus for you – a VERY handsome one. I might add that it could put you in a position where you could leave domestic service and live in comfort with your sister. But understand me, Ellen, there must be no word whatsoever about this letter – that I gave it to you or that you did as I requested and gave it to your mistress.’
She paused to draw a deep breath before adding: ‘Bear this in mind, Ellen: if you were ever to speak it to a living soul, I have the means to ensure that not only you but your sister would suffer the consequence. Do you understand me?’
Ellen understood Felicity perfectly well. She also believed what she was saying – that she had adequate means to harm her and her beloved sister. The woman was rich – rich enough to hire criminals to carry out whatever she was prepared to pay for – robbery, assault, even kidnapping: money could buy anything short of murder.
The slight tremor of fear which now passed through Ellen was quickly ignored. Two days previously she had learned that her sister was in hospital with a chest infection. When Susan came out, she would need to have special care, delicacies to whet her appetite and aid her recovery, and sea air. A nursing home on the Sussex coast would be expensive. The money she had so far managed to save – Felicity’s hush money – would cover such necessities but would eat up all the money she had put aside to buy the seaside bungalow. Whatever else her paymaster might be guilty of, Mrs Goodall had never failed to pay her for her services. She need have no fear that this latest request would be as well rewarded as she’d promised.
Ellen was not particularly interested in the contents of the letter and locked it away in her suitcase beneath her bed. The following morning, however, she decided she should know the contents, lest she was somehow implicated. However, when she tried to open it imperceptibly, the flap split suddenly so it had become obvious the letter had been tampered with. For a few moments, Ellen felt sick with anxiety. Then, with an effort, she pulled herself together and considered what she could do.
As her racing heartbeat slowed, it occurred to her that there was a simple, more-or-less safe way out of the problem. The spoiled envelope had only Harriet’s name on it. She, Ellen, could take one of the plain white envelopes from the desk in one of the guest rooms, seal the letter in it and write Mrs BROOK EDGERTON in capital letters on the front. Harriet would have no reason to question it if, as Felicity had instructed her, she told Harriet that it had not come by post but had been delivered by one of the Melton Court grooms early that morning.
Satisfied with her decision, Ellen drew the single sheet of paper out of the torn envelope, and began to read Felicity’s hurriedly written script.
Dearest Harriet, she read, I would not ask this favour but I am quite desperate and am urgently in need of your help and support. I have a woman coming to see me at eleven o’clock on Tuesday morning who I fear has reason to wish me harm. She is aware I live here alone and I am certain is taking advantage of the fact.
You may think it advisable to bring Brook with you but I have a very good reason for begging you not to do so. It is a matter for female ears only and I do assure you that I am quite certain there is nothing he could do to help. You being here as a witness will suffice to make my adversary think twice about threatening me again. It is verbal and not physical damage she can inflict, but will not do so if I have a witness present.
I am counting on your help, my very dear friend.
The letter Ellen had given Harriet after breakfast that morning, which she’d just finished reading was unsigned. At first Harriet wondered if it had been intended for someone other than herself. She could not begin to imagine that the self-sufficient Felicity was unable to deal with a verbal difficulty by herself.
She now set aside her untouched breakfast tray and glanced at her bedside clock. It was already half past eight. If she was to be at Melton Court by eleven o’clock it was time she got up, she told herself. Felicity had specified particularly in her letter that she must come on her own so, she now decided, she would drive herself in the gig. Although the pathway between their two houses was no more than three
miles long, she would be driving slowly because of her condition. There was no way, she told herself, that she would risk another miscarriage. All her hopes for a reconciliation with Brook now depended upon her giving him a son of his own making. She must therefore depart for Melton Court in plenty of time.
Turning to Ellen, who had just entered the room, she told her to find Albert and tell him to go straight to the stables and give instructions that she would need the gig to be ready at the front door by ten o’clock; that she wished to drive herself and would therefore have no need for a groom.
‘When you have carried out those instructions, you can come back and assist me to dress, Ellen,’ she told the maid.
‘If anyone asks, am I to say where you are going, madam?’ Ellen asked.
Harriet looked at her sharply. ‘Certainly not! What I do with my time as you should know by now, Ellen, is my business and no one else’s. Now be off!’
As she struggled into her petticoats, it suddenly occurred to Harriet that it was a little strange of Felicity to have left it until this morning to request her help, although she was unlikely to be elsewhere other than at home, at so early an hour. Felicity’s concerns must have evolved quite suddenly, she thought as she stooped to put on her boots, but could not be of any great magnitude as she had specified she had no need for Brook to be involved.
Obsession Page 24
