by Cari Hislop
The burly Lord Beast appeared to be able to read lips. “Shut up you old witch. We all know she was a hussy, but she won’t be making any more mistakes because she’s dead and I don’t want Emily to hear another sneering ill-word about her sister.”
“Dead?” Lady Catherine pushed past Lord Raynham and leaned over to see the woman on the sofa. “Alyce…?” The young woman’s eyes were staring unblinking at the ceiling as if entranced by the unfashionable fresco of naked Gods and Goddesses frolicking in fluffy white clouds. She picked up the girls arm and dropped it. It thumped the sofa and slid over the side hanging there without resistance dripping water onto the carpet. Lady Catherine sighed in relief; the hussy wouldn’t be able to force her way back into Morley’s life or make unpleasant scenes. “What happened?”
Lord Beast picked up his sister’s arm with trembling hands and carefully laid it next to her on the sofa. “She was poisoned.”
“Typical hysteric…” Lady Catherine nodded in understanding as she looked at the half wet corpse. “…she killed herself. Well if the silly chit couldn’t face life without Morley who can blame her? What? Why are you looking at me like that? It’s not my fault she’s dead.”
“Madam…” Lord Adderbury’s authoritative tone dragged her eyes back to the towering figure in dusty black. “…Lord Raynham’s sister d-d-didn’t…”
“What do you have to do with this?”
“Nothing…b-b-but she d-didn’t…”
“Then don’t make me listen to your irritating stutter. Save it for Lord Beast who couldn’t hear a brick land on his head.”
“Madam…” Her knees trembled as she leaned heavily on her stick. Peter Smirke was giving her that steely look his father used to give her when she was rude in his hearing. “…brace yourself. Something awful has happened.”
“Obviously, that stupid girl drank poison and then stuck her head in the lake.”
“She was murdered.”
“Nonsense, no one would dare be murdered at a house party I was attending. It would be scandalous.”
“Prepare to become the t-t-talk of the t-town Madam; she was murdered.”
“Who killed her? Did Lord Beast hope to bury the fact his sister could lift her skirts faster than a ballet dancer?” Lady Catherine was pleased to hear Mary repeating the accusation into the man’s ear.
The brute turned furious blue sapphires in her direction and shouted, “My sister is dead because of your vile son. Look at her! She’s dead because she drank the bottle of wine your son sent her; the bottle he’d poisoned with hemlock. The servant who stole the second bottle meant for Alyce lies dead in his lover’s dead arms.”
“Morley didn’t need to kill her…”
Lord Beast leaned over to listen to his wife and then roared, “Henry didn’t need an excuse to kill people; I dare say it gave him pleasure.”
Lady Catherine sucked in her breath at the monstrous accusation and looked around the room for support, bemused by the pity on George Smirke’s face. “When Morley hears this slander you’ll be the one who ends up in a coffin.”
Lord Beast’s cynical bark of amusement sent a shiver of dread down her spine. “What have you done to my son? Where’s Morley?”
Sapphire eyes gleamed with satisfaction, “Henry’s dead!”
Lady Catherine’s knees trembled as white spots of intense light dazzled her vision. “You’re lying…Morley can’t be dead…”
“He’s as dead as Alyce. Shall I now follow your lead and tell you that Henry was a lecherous villain who tried to rape my wife? If the Smirkes hadn’t followed him to my wife’s door… My only regret is that I didn’t get another chance to pummel his sneering face.”
The white lights quickened as an odd piercing pain shot up her arm and lodged in her chest. “Morley can’t be dead…he’s all I have left…”
“That’s because he killed the rest of your family. Didn’t you think it rather odd that Henry was always the one to find the bodies?”
The pain in Lady Catherine’s chest was momentarily forgotten as she remembered her favourite son being carried into the house in a horse blanket after being found in the lake with a broken neck after an apparent boating accident. Richard had been her most beautiful child, the one who most resembled a Smirke. A stabbing pain in her chest seemed to flicker along with a blinding light. The sound of her lorgnette striking the parquet floor seemed to unleash a darkness that snuffed out all pain.
Chapter 30
Peter Smirke and his sons rushed towards the falling old woman as she lost consciousness, but none of them were close enough to catch her. Her head cracked against the floor, her walking stick still clutched in her hand. Marshall cautiously approached the fallen old woman and looked down with hope and dread. “Is she dead?”
Kneeling at her side Charles Smirke looked up after feeling her throat and shook his head. “She’s alive.” The whole room relaxed in relief. “Cosmo, find a servant and send them for the doctor.”
Cosmo Smirke scowled at his brother who was only a year older. “Why do I have to find a servant? You find a servant!”
“Papa, George and Cecil are tired. Robert looks like he’s seen a ghost. I’m going to move Lady Morley to the sofa near the window; that leaves you to find a servant.”
“I’m a whole inch taller than you; that means I’m bigger and stronger. I’ll carry the old hag, you find a servant.”
“How many times have you won an arm wrestling contest with me? None!”
“You’re only a year older. I’m just as strong as you are. Papa, tell him to stop ordering me around. I don’t have to do what he says.”
“Cosmo Xavier, send for the d-doctor.”
“Yes Papa…” Cosmo could be heard muttering curses on doctors, older brothers and old hags as he left the room.
Charles Smirke removed the walking stick from the old woman’s clenched fist and gently carried her across the room towards the window where she wouldn’t be able to see Alyce who was starting to look unpleasantly dead. Laying Lady Morley on the sofa he lightly tapped her face. “Lady Catherine? Can you hear me?”
Wrinkled eyelids slowly slid back revealing watery green eyes filled with adoration. “Oh John, I’m so glad you’re here. When did you cut your hair? Where did you get that strange suit? Where am I? Who are these people?”
Charles glanced up at his father who shrugged his shoulders admitting ignorance. With a long suffering sigh Charles forced a smile. “You’ve fallen over and hit your head.”
“My head? My heart feels broken.”
“Close your eyes and rest.”
“You won’t leave me will you?”
“Not for a while.”
“I’m frightened. I know we’re not engaged, but will you hold my hand?” Charles reluctantly allowed wrinkled fingers to wrap around his hand. “Where’s my Mother? Does she know you’re here?”
“I don’t think so. What do you remember?”
“Nothing…are you taking me to Gretna Green? Mamma will be furious. She thinks you want me for my dowry. I don’t know what I want. You’re so beautiful…Mamma says you’re too beautiful. She says I shouldn’t encourage you. She thinks I should marry Morley, but he smells peculiar and he drinks like a fish. I don’t think I could marry him. I’d much rather marry you.”
With cheeks burning bright red, Charles cleared his throat. “We’re not eloping, we’re just visiting friends.”
“Will you be taking me home?”
Charles looked up at his father for guidance, but the older man appeared for once to lack advice. Charles swallowed his nerves and said carefully. “I don’t know…I think it best you stay here and rest for now.”
“Where are we?”
“At Lord Buckingham’s country seat.”
“Lord Buckingham? The man who married his lunatic cousin who talks to bunnies and spiders? What am I doing here? I can’t stand the woman. She’s so smug and all knowing. She caught me looking at the stars once at a ball and start
ed telling me their names. She calls the pole star Winnabellalightallover. Please don’t let her come near me; my head hurts.”
“We’ll talk later. Close your eyes and try to sleep until the doctor arrives.”
Marshall leaned over Charles’ shoulder and looked down at the old woman in relief and said loudly, “At least she’s not dead; we have enough people to bury. Do you know your name Madam?”
The wrinkled eyelids flew wide in irritation. “Don’t talk so loud it hurts!”
“What did she say? Oh…” He lowered his voice to a whisper. “Do you know your name?”
“I’m Miss Catherine Pilkington and I don’t recognise any of you except for John. John, who are these people and why is your hair unpowdered?” The Smirke brothers looked at each other and then at their father who returned their bewildered stare.
Charles took a deep breath and said calmly, “This is my family. These are my brothers. The tall man with black hair is my father.”
“I thought your father was dead.”
“No.”
“Oh…how odd…he’s very beautiful. Is he looking for a wife?”
It was Peter Smirke’s turn to blush. “You’ve had a nasty fall; c-close your eyes and rest.”
The old woman smiled up at the standing man her eyes blinking in appreciation. “Why haven’t I met you before?”
“I d-don’t go out much into Society. I have a st-stammer.”
“Oh…do you dance?”
“Of course Madam…”
“You may call me Miss Catherine. Will you ask me to dance the next time we attend the same ball?”
“It would be an honour to dance with you Miss Catherine. Close your eyes and rest.” It was a command. The old woman winked at him and obediently closed her eyes.
The old woman’s eyes flickered open as Lord Buckingham called across the room. “I’m taking Lady Emily to her room.”
Charles hand was released as the old woman focused on Peter Smirke. “Who’s Lady Emily?”
“Close your eyes and rest.”
The command was obeyed and the Smirke family looked at each other in bewilderment as Marshall accepted the message. Holding his wife closer he asked Lord Adderbury in a booming whisper, “She has no close relations or friends now that Aunt Beatrice hates her for denying Alyce married Morely. What do we do with her if she can’t remember anything?”
“Morley’s heir?”
Marshall shook his head as he stared at Peter Smirke. He’d never looked into the black eyes and allowed himself to judge the man for himself. He’d always swallowed Morley’s lies without stopping to question their validity. The new found knowledge of his defects made him cringe. “The Marquisate of Morley has become extinct. Henry always said he’d make an heir. I’d feel sorry for her if she wasn’t such a witch. I don’t think he even produced a bastard for her to cling to.”
Peter Smirke leaned over to speak into Marshall’s ear, “We’ll stay for a week and see if she regains her memory. If she remains seventeen, I’ll take her to Morley’s p-pile to see if that t-triggers anything. She was jilted by my father. He always felt b-bad about it. He’d want me to help her. If she wishes, I’ll take her home with us to Adderbury.”
Marshall’s eyes widened in disbelief, “But she hates you!”
“If she c-can’t remember hating me I d-don’t see why I should hold it against her.”
“You’re a better man than I am. I can’t wait to see the back of her. What if she’s putting on an act to win your sympathy so she can poison your sons? I wouldn’t let her anywhere near my children…if I had any.”
Peter Smirke glanced at the old woman. “What if she remembers nothing? What if Charles has the only familiar face left t-to her in the world? It would be c-cruel to abandon her. It would be so frightening.”
“Your sons are good men.”
Peter Smirke formally bowed his head accepting the compliment. “They had a good mother.”
As Marshall stared into black eyes, he knew instinctively that the man would have been a life long friend if Morley hadn’t destroyed the possibility with his lies. It was one more death to mourn; one more reason to celebrate Morley’s death. “So did I; she’d have been furious if she’d known how I hurt you.”
“What didn’t k-kill me made me stronger.” Black eyes suddenly gleamed with amusement. “Imagine how furious Morley would be to know his mother p-prefers her Smirke memories.”
Marshall laughed as he thumped the taller man on the back and whispered, “His ghost is probably cursing the day he met me. Imagine all the lives that won’t be ruined by his evil lies. Alyce won’t have died in vain.” Marshall’s amusement faded as tears filled his eyes. “Excuse me, I need to go to my room…and finish dressing.” Leaning on Mary’s arm, Marshall took one last look at Alyce studying the ceiling and dragged himself back to his room where he could mourn in private.
Chapter 31
Two days later Buckingham’s houseguests converged on the little Anglo Saxon church to put Alyce and Morley to rest side by side in the graveyard. Lady Morley attended out of duty to the son she couldn’t remember and watched in bewilderment as the last rites were read. The rest of the company sighed with relief as Morley’s wool wrapped body was dropped unceremoniously into the hole and covered with lime. Alyce was travelling to the afterlife in a large ornate chest that Emily had found in Buckingham’s attic. It was a tight fit, but Emily was satisfied with the effort. She couldn’t leave her sister lying exposed to the elements in the old icehouse for a week while a carpenter made a coffin. Robert and his father were the only Smirkes who watched the bodies lowered into the ground. The other four stared slack jawed at Buckingham’s beautiful sisters huddled around their brother for protection.
Mary held Marshall’s hand as he stared dry eyed off into the distance as if pretending he was attending a noxious ball filled with sneering people instead of his sister’s burial. He hadn’t said a word all morning. He looked stunned, as if Morley had come back from the dead and hit him over the head with a cricket bat. His hand was dry and lifeless. She clung to it hoping her touch would give him some comfort until she was forced to let go to climb into the carriage for the ride back to the house. His mute sightless stare continued at the dining table through luncheon and into drawing room where he sat staring out the window until dark when he excused himself with his first words of the day, “I wish to be alone.” Mary’s heart sank as she remained in her seat and watched him leave the room. If he didn’t want her comfort she couldn’t force it on him. The long grim hours of day finally came to an end allowing everyone to escape to their private chambers for solitude or respite from others’ sorrows. Marshall remained in his room without even opening the connecting door to kiss her goodnight.
As the clock struck midnight Mary was still pacing her room, the single candlestick on the mantel casting eerie shadows over the furniture. One minute she thought she could see Morley’s ghost lounging on the bed leering at her. Next he was on the window seat. Now he was behind her trying to kiss her neck. She shook her head as if the action would expel her unpleasant thoughts and leave them on the cold floor. Morley was dead; Marshall was safe. Stopping abruptly, she stared at the closed door leading into Marshall’s room willing him to call out for her, but his room remained silent. Resuming her pacing, her thick silk nightdress fluttered against her limbs as the feeling in her chest insisted that Marshall was awake and in need of her company.
