Thorncroft Manor (A Novella)

by Nora Covington

“But why? Why did he purport this lie that she had died?” Caroline could not understand his reasoning. She sat back down in her chair, weakened by the revelation.

  “The day before their wedding, Lady Bellingham announced that she and Reginald were to marry instead and travel to India on their honeymoon. Reginald, you see, visited Thorncroft often, and with the master away so many hours, he saw opportunity to win her affections.”

  “Poor Bramwell,” Caroline sighed. “But I still don’t understand why he told everyone she had died.”

  “Mr. Croft was so devastated, that he threatened to kill Reginald. They had a violent argument that came to blows. After I intervened and stopped the altercation, Mr. Croft turned on Rebecca. He ordered that she leave with only the clothes on her back and never return. Afterward he locked her bedchamber and gave orders it was never to be opened again.” Pearson glanced at her fondly. “It remained that way, miss, until the day you arrived at Thorncroft.”

  Caroline could barely breathe from the heavy grief upon her heart. “I am so very sorry to hear of it,” she said. “But what I do not understand is the sailing accident and Mr. Croft being found on the shore. Is that a lie as well?”

  Pearson lowered his eyes in sadness. “The day they should have wed, Mr. Croft lost his wits from grief. He took a walk with Merlin along the shoreline, but I don’t think he planned on returning.”

  “You mean he thought of suicide?” Caroline brought her hand to her mouth in dismay.

  “In grief-stricken bewilderment, he walked into the water fully clothed with no intent on stopping. Merlin sensed something was amiss and went in after him.” Pearson’s eyes brightened as he told the story. “A man’s best friend, indeed. The master conveyed later that if it were not for his incessant barking and tugging on his sleeve to awaken him from his evil intent, he would have perished in a watery grave.”

  “I knew there was a reason I felt affectionately drawn to that dog,” Caroline admitted.

  “Afterward, as far as Mr. Croft had been concerned, Rebecca had died in his heart. His embarrassment over the affair and abandonment brought great shame to him, so he conceived the story about the accident to explain her sudden disappearance.”

  “How dreadful,” Caroline felt tears sting her eyes. “And Darby, did he know?”

  He shook his head affirmatively. “Another good friend, sworn to secrecy. He agreed to carry out the deception for Bramwell’s sake, though he did object to it quite strongly.”

  Caroline felt a headache coming on from the shock of all she had learned. It was a terrible revelation that Bramwell had attempted to end his life over Rebecca’s unfaithfulness. She found it difficult to understand why he insisted on perpetuating the falsehood regarding the entire affair. Had he loved her so much that her loss had taken away his good sense? Maybe it had been the only way to reconcile the reality of his pain, by believing a lie instead.

  “But surely, he must have known the truth would eventually come out.” She spoke thinking aloud.

  “Lady Bellingham wanted to travel the world. With the master’s responsibilities that kept him at Thorncroft, Reginald had the means to give her what she wanted. It is only recently that they have returned from abroad.”

  “That explains one of Mr. Croft’s mysterious comments about her personality,” she mused.

  “We must have faith,” Pearson said. “If the master is dead, Reginald and Rebecca will surely claim Thorncroft as their property when they hear the news.”

  “Have they no heart?” she asked.

  “Unfortunately, his younger brother lacks good character. He expressed beforehand that if he inherits Thorncroft, he will close the mine. Mr. Croft’s fortune will belong to him.”

  “I think not,” she exclaimed. Caroline rose to her feet, stomping her crutch upon the floor in anger.

  Pearson smiled endearingly at her reaction. “I must say that you have been a godsend for Mr. Croft. Since the day he met you, he has made strides in putting the past behind him.”

  Carolyn chuckled. Strides? In her mind, they had abhorred one another for some time before admitting that any affection existed. “I am glad to hear of it, in spite of our disagreements,” she smiled. “You do know that I lied to Lady Bellingham about being lovers.” Caroline felt her cheeks flush.

  “I am aware, Miss Woodard. However, I thought your ploy in telling her so was rather brilliant on your part.” He smiled approvingly.

  “I pray to God that he returns safely.” Waiting for word would surely drive her to madness if days passed eliminating any hope of rescue.

  “As do I,” he somberly replied.

  Broken Man

  Caroline entered the dining room and halted in the doorway. Reginald sat at the head of the table and Rebecca to his right. She immediately sucked in a deep breath, feeling as if she were preparing for battle.

  “Pearson, I thought I told you that the young lady was to dine in her room this evening. She is not welcome here,” Rebecca snidely remarked.

  “Oh, let her eat with us, dearest,” Reginald replied. “There is no harm in feeding her. If Bramwell doesn’t return by tomorrow, we can presume he is dead and send her back to wherever she came from.”

  Caroline’s ire burst from her lips. “How dare you,” she hissed. “Have you no emotion regarding your brother?” She stood rigid in the doorway, steadying herself on her crutches.

  “Not really,” he replied. He snapped his fingers at Pearson to begin serving the meal. “If you are hungry, I suggest you hobble to the chair and sit.”

  “I would rather starve than share a table with the two of you.”

  “Well, frankly I don’t care if you starve or not,” Rebecca replied coldly. “Anyone who cannot ride a horse without falling on her behind isn’t worth feeding anyway.” Reginald laughed, and the two of them had a good chortle at her expense.

  Caroline’s blood boiled. At that moment she could have strangled Rebecca Bellingham without an ounce of remorse.

  “I should slap your face,” Caroline threatened. “Instead I hope you choke on your meal and die!”

  Pearson tried to suppress a smile that conveyed his pleasure over her sharp tongue. Hungry or not, she was not about to sit at a table with them while they plotted to take over the Thorncroft estate and Bramwell’s fortune.

  After leaving the dining hall, she made her way to the sitting room window and looked out over the sea. “Oh, Bramwell, please come back to me.”

  * * * *

  After hearing noises, Caroline stirred. She opened her eyes and glanced at the clock on the fireplace mantel, noting the time. It read three o’clock in the morning. When she heard footsteps and multiple male voices climbing the stairs, she bolted out of bed and grabbed her robe. Finding her crutches, she made her way to the door and flung it open. A group of men carried a stretcher up the staircase. On it laid an unconscious and bloody man.

  “Bramwell!” Her scream caught Pearson’s attention.

  “They broke through the debris an hour ago,” he reported out of breath. “Three men are dead and two gravely injured.”

  “Gravely?” Caroline watched as they carried him to his bedchamber. She followed behind along with Pearson.

  “We have sent for the surgeon,” he said. “But I’m afraid, miss, it may be too late.”

  “No, it cannot be,” she cried, pushing her way into his bedchamber. The men carefully laid his unconscious and bloodied body onto the white sheets.

  Millie entered the room after the miners retreated and gasped at the sight. “Oh, dear God, have mercy.”

  “Go and fetch a bowl of warm water, Millie, and a sponge. Pearson, do you have scissors?”

  “Yes,” he replied, looking at her cockeyed.

  “Go fetch them so we can cut off his clothes and clean his body and wounds before the surgeon arrives. He will be able to more quickly examine him and ascertain his injuries.”

  “Yes, miss. Right away.”

  Caroline pushed back his sweaty a
nd bloody hair from his forehead. She noticed a large knot on the right side of his skull. “He must have a concussion,” she murmured.

  “Is he dead?” his brother asked.

  Reginald eagerly entered the room with Rebecca at his side. They peered down at his body with hopeful looks. The sight so sickened her, she moved to her feet. The enthusiastic look on his face shattered every ounce of restraint. Without thinking, she raised her hand and slapped Reginald across the face so hard that he staggered a step.

  “What the bloody hell?” His hand came to his reddened cheek.

  “How dare you strike him,” Rebecca snarled. “I should have Pearson throw you out this instant.”

  “I will do no such thing,” Pearson barked, entering the bedchamber with scissors in his hand. “It would be to your advantage if the two of you leave and not return to this room. If you cause any more trouble, I shall personally throw you and your belongings out the door. Should you refuse, I have no qualms using force to protect my master, including pointing a gun in both your faces.” He puffed out his chest like a bear. “Do we understand each other?” he roared.

  Pearson towered over them, presenting a show of strength that gave even Caroline a start. His voice boomed with authority. They glowered at him but retreated without argument. Finally, Millie brought the water.

  “Thank you,” Caroline replied. “I’ll need your help, Millie.”

  “Is there anything that I can do?” Pearson handed her the scissors.

  “You have already done so much. For now, I would feel much better if you returned downstairs and waited for the surgeon.”

  “As you wish, Miss Woodard,” he obediently replied.

  Bramwell’s face looked ashen, even though much of it was covered with blood from his head wound. Dear God, don’t let him die. There was no time to waste, so Caroline pushed aside her worries and started giving orders.

  “Millie, carefully remove his boots and socks. Try not to pull too much on his legs, in case there are any broken bones. If the boots are too tight, we can try and cut them down the side.”

  “Yes, miss,” she said. “I don’t want to hurt him,” she woefully remarked.

  “You will do fine. Just take your time,” Caroline replied. “I need to start cutting off his shirt and then his pants. Afterward, we will try and clean some of this bloody grime from his body.”

  Caroline picked up the scissors and cut up each sleeve until she had parceled the shirt into pieces. Very gently, she pulled the dirty fabric away from his body and tossed it to the floor. To her horror, his left arm was black with bruises, and she worried that the bones beneath were crushed.

  As Millie carefully pulled off his boots and socks, Caroline undid his belt and pulled it through the loops. After his feet were bare, she moved down to his pant legs and began cutting upward. To her horror, his upper left leg looked swollen and terribly bruised. It was shorter than the other and crooked, leading her to believe it had been broken. Slowly, she snipped the trousers from his body, leaving him in his undergarments, and pulled the pieces from underneath, throwing them to the floor with the others.

  “Pick up the clothes, Millie, and discard them. When you return, bring a pitcher of drinking water and a glass in case Mr. Croft awakens. He will need fluids as soon as possible.”

  Millie scurried from the room. As she returned her gaze to Bramwell, she wanted to weep over his bruised and damaged body. However, uncontrolled emotions would not help the situation. She had to keep a level head for his sake.

  She dipped the sponge into the warm water and waited for it to soak completely until it softened. After squeezing the residue back into the bowl, she began a slow, laborious work of love cleaning his wounds. She began by pushing his bloodied hair away from his face and dabbing his forehead. With each loving stroke, she carefully removed the dirt and dried blood. Her actions did not arouse him, and she noticed with concern his labored breathing.

  “If you die, Bramwell, I shall carry a deep regret throughout my life,” she said tenderly. “My heart will be shattered, knowing that I did not have a chance to tell you how much I love you.” Tears welled in her eyes. “Please, I beg you, fight to live. Do not leave me.”

  A few minutes after she had finished his cleansing, Millie returned to the room with water. Behind her, the surgeon and Pearson burst into the room.

  Caroline rose to her feet. “Thank God, you have arrived.”

  The surgeon surveyed his body. “Are you responsible for this?”

  At first, Caroline thought he had scolded her for taking matters into her hands by cleaning him for examination. “Yes. Would you have preferred I left him as he was found?”

  “Absolutely not, young lady. You have been of great help. Time is of the essence.” The surgeon removed his coat and placed his bag on the bed. “I would prefer to examine him alone,” he announced.

  “Of course. As you wish,” Pearson replied.

  Caroline wanted to stay, but she obeyed his request and departed. Pearson closed the door behind them.

  “Why don’t you go back to your room, and we will send word as soon as we hear anything.” He gently placed his comforting hand on her shoulder.

  “No, I cannot go,” she replied. “Bring me a chair so that I may sit by the door and wait.”

  “Of course,” he said. “I understand.”

  Pearson returned with a chair. Caroline set her crutches against the wall and sat down, wondering how much longer she would have to wear the cast on her leg. It had been nearly four weeks. She needed it off to nurse Bramwell back to health.

  The minutes passed slowly. Pearson, Millie, and Caroline waited in silence, praying that all would turn out well.

  Spinsterhood’s Demise

  Nearly an hour later, the door opened. The surgeon stood with a towel in his hands, wiping away the blood from his fingers. He looked at Caroline and announced, “Mr. Croft is asking for you.”

  Though the surgeon’s face remained somber, Caroline’s heart leaped in her chest. She sprung to her feet, took her crutches, and made her way to Bramwell’s bedside. His eyes remained closed, but when he heard her arrival, they fluttered open.

  “Caroline,” he whispered. “You are a pleasing sight for a weary man.”

  “Bramwell,” she cried. Caroline eagerly grasped his hand and kissed it repeatedly. A weak smile lifted the corner of his mouth, displaying his pleasure about her show of affection.

  The surgeon cleared his throat. “Mr. Croft has multiple injuries, I’m afraid. The trauma to his skull has no doubt given him a concussion. His right femur is broken but too swollen to set today. I will need warm towels and blankets to wrap it and keep it immobile. Tomorrow I will return with appropriate splints to set the leg. From what I can tell, it feels to be a clean break.”

  “Is that all?” Caroline asked. She looked at him hopefully.

  “I am concerned there could be internal injuries and bleeding. My examination has revealed some tenderness of the abdomen. One arm is severely bruised, but I feel no crushed bones. Blood vessels and muscles are no doubt damaged, but they will eventually heal with returned use.”

  She glanced at Bramwell, who looked glassy-eyed and relaxed. “You have given him laudanum, haven’t you?”

  “Yes, a rather large dose. I am afraid that the pain will be substantial during recovery.”

  Caroline released Bramwell’s hand and rose to face the surgeon. “Thank you.” Caroline hesitated for a moment and then asked. “Can you remove my cast from my leg so that I can care for him?”

  “Perhaps in a fortnight, and then afterward I would recommend that you use a cane. Your muscles will be weak, Miss Woodard. It will take some time to regain strength before you walk normally.”

  “I want it removed,” she complained.

  “All in due course. Six weeks should be sufficient to insure total healing.” The surgeon glanced over at Bramwell. “He will have a lengthy recovery and will surely appreciate your attentive care.”
>
  As the surgeon prepared to leave, he gave parting instructions. “Keep him hydrated with water, on laudanum, and start with soup until his strength returns. A spot of whiskey now and then will do no harm, as you well know.” His eyes twinkled at Caroline remembering her blubbering moments of having her leg set.

  “Yes, I know,” she said, smirking in embarrassment.

  “I will be back tomorrow afternoon and will return daily until I am convinced he is out of danger. If his condition changes in any way, send word and I will return at once.”

  Caroline walked him to the door. After the surgeon had departed, she pulled Pearson and Millie aside from Bramwell’s hearing. “He is not out of danger but has a good chance of a complete recovery, but it will take time.”

  Pearson released a sigh of relief. “That is good news.”

  “God is merciful,” Millie said.

  Caroline glanced at Bramwell, concerned over one lingering and unpleasant matter. “Pearson, is there any way that you can dispel Reginald and Rebecca from the household?” she whispered. “Tell them he has a broken leg and nothing more and will soon recover.” Caroline had to get them out of the manor house. She feared if Bramwell knew Rebecca and his brother had returned, the news would upset him and endanger his health.

  “I think that I can manage that task. Should they protest, one of the master’s guns will surely encourage their departure,” he smirked.

  “Good. Let me know when they leave. I have nothing further to say to either of them.” Caroline glanced over at Bramwell.

  “Very well, miss.”

  “Oh, and one more thing. Can you fetch me a bottle of Irish Whiskey?” Caroline asked.

  “I think that can be arranged.” He smiled, understanding its intended use.

  * * * *

  Early in the morning, Rebecca and Reginald agreed to leave since Reginald’s inheritance had not materialized. Rebecca, however, refused to go without stripping her room of clothing and personal items. Pearson wanted to protest, but Caroline encouraged her to do so. She wanted every reminder that Rebecca ever lived in the manor removed. No longer would she have to wear another dress at Bramwell’s bidding threaded by memories of loss and heartache.