by Kira Stewart
Her sisters were sat by the window, occupying the large sofa and chairs. A few aged relatives sat between them with dainty china cups perched perilously on their laps.
Edward and Theresa sat away and looked rather aloof from the rest, their faces as blank as at the funeral. Neither was drinking brandy, nor tea.
Scanning the room and avoiding the eyes of Edward, Rebecca looked for a friendly face among the small group. It would have been such a comfort to have had Thomas here, but she would have to be strong.
Her mother’s older brother, Uncle Joseph, was sat with a glass of brandy in one of the large, tall backed chairs by the fire. As he saw the girl, he put down his glass and stood with his arms open wide.
“Oh, Uncle Joe!”
The old man’s arms wrapped around her and she felt like a little girl again.
“Now, I think you could do with a cup of tea, my dear, and a seat by the fire. Perhaps something a bit stronger would do you better, eh?”
The old man winked, as he patted her hand and sat her down in the chair.
“Now, don’t you worry, my dear. Your Aunt Margaret is already speaking to Mrs. Thomas in the kitchen, and dinner is all underway. Now, sit in my chair and warm yourself, whilst I speak to your rather quiet new relative.”
Uncle Joe winked again, as he took his place next to Sir Percy D’Arcy by the fire.
“Well, sir. This is a sad occasion for us all, indeed it is, and it must seem quite peculiar to yourself, suddenly bestowed the title of Duke, so to speak?”
Percy D’Arcy, whose eyes had been focusing on his brandy, looked around in surprise.
“Are you speaking with me, sir?”
Sir Percy’s eyes widened, as he took in the robust figure of Joseph Parringer.
“I am indeed, sir. I am just commenting that it must feel peculiar for you to be propelled so suddenly to the title of Duke of Northumberland.”
“In what way do you mean, sir?”
Percy D’Arcy’s face remained without emotion. The glow from the fire flickered in his pale eyes, showing the only sign of warmth in his starchy demeanor.
“Well, sir. Your life will surely be changed for good, henceforth. There is a hefty weight that comes with the title of Duke, as well as privilege.”
“I have an estate in the Midlands, sir, although not the size of the Duchy of Northumberland, but I am quite capable of the task, I assure you.”
“I did not mean to suggest that you could not, sir. I was merely pointing out the difference to you and your family—your newly elevated social ranking.”
“Hmmph. I do not know what you are driving at, sir. There will be a few changes to our lives, that is true. For a start, we shall be moving to live here in Heathfield Hall, of course. I am sure there are many capable men on the estate to help me in my duties. If they are not, then they will be looking for alternative employment. I intend to make some changes here, and make my mark on the place.”
As he finished his statement, he slammed down his brandy glass upon the fireplace mantle and the stem smashed upon the stone, scattering thin shards of glass and brandy over the pale stone.
Rebecca stood quickly. It was her father’s favorite goblet, and she rushed to pick at the shards of glass. A sharp piece pierced her finger, and a thick bead of blood appeared on her white flesh.
“You stupid girl, you should have rung for the maid to clear that away.”
Sir Percy’s tone was harsh, and Rebecca could feel her eyes start to well with tears. Picking up the broken stem of her father’s glass, she hurried out of the room.
“Edward, go see that the girl is all right.”
Upon his father’s command, the young man immediately rose from his seat and followed the girl out into the hallway, where he found her crying.
Quickly wiping her eyes, she headed toward the steps that led down to the kitchen.
“Father doesn’t mean to be harsh; it’s just his way. Please, let me have a look at your hand.”
His words stopped her, and she paused with her back to him, as he approached.
“Your finger is bleeding pretty badly. Here, let me wrap my handkerchief around it.”
Rebecca had no choice, but to turn and face the serious young man.
“Now, give me your hand.”
As he reached for her hand she reluctantly held out her injured finger, the crimson blood now running across her hand.
“It is just a small wound for a lot of blood. This should stop it.”
Gently holding her hand, he carefully wrapped the white cotton handkerchief around her finger, tying it tight.
“There, that should do it.”
His face seemed still set in a scowl, and yet his voice sounded gentle, with much more warmth than his father.
His hand was soft and gentle around hers and for a moment they stood together. Once again Rebecca could feel her heart starting to thud within her breast and she wondered if he could hear it, too; it seemed so loud. Feeling embarrassed in the young man’s stare, she wished to be away, and quickly releasing her hand from his, she turned to go.
“Thank you. Now, I must go and see where Aunt Margaret is with the dinner.”
She tried to smile, but it was difficult. He was still the enemy, and he gave her a strange feeling inside that she did not care for. As she walked back along the hall, she could feel his eyes watching her, until he eventually turned back into the drawing room, and she heard the click of the door closing behind him.
In the scullery, she quickly exchanged Edward’s handkerchief for a strip of white linen. Mrs. Thomas and Aunt Margaret were fussing over the roast beef, which was resting, whilst the old cook poured soup into a silver soup bowl.
“Whatever have you been doing, my lovely? Now, never mind, the soup is ready to be served. You can tell everyone to be seated in the dining room.”
4.
The guests assembled in the large dining hall. It was a small family meal, and the usual formalities were not adhered to.
Another fire had been lit in the great fireplace, twice the size of the drawing room fire, and was flanked by two rather magnificent stone lions. Percy D’Arcy immediately took his place at the head of the table, with little feeling for those around him.
The girls winced, as they watched the stranger sit in their father’s seat, and Rebecca was quite glad that her mother was not there to witness the spectacle in her frail condition. The girls sat together at one end of the table, leaving gaps in the seating next to the D’Arcys, for their Uncle Joe and Aunt Margaret to fill.
He may be the new Duke of Northumberland, thought Rebecca, but I don’t have to like him!
Aunt Margaret at last entered, followed by the able Mrs. Thomas and one of the serving boys, who was carrying the soup. Everyone took their places at the table and the soup and bread were served. The girls were not hungry, and shifted their spoons clumsily around the bowls. Edward and Percy D’Arcy ate quickly and heartily, as if nothing affected their appetite at all. The girl Theresa ate, but only a few mouthfuls.
Everyone at the table was quiet, and yet Uncle Joe was determined to make conversation.
“You enjoy your food, sir. I’m sure you will find Mrs. Thomas an admirable cook.”
Wiping his mouth on the white linen serviette, Percy D’Arcy raised an eyebrow.
“The soup was tolerable, I give you that. But I have a most admirable cook down at the house in Midford. She undoubtedly serves the best food I have eaten.”
“But surely you won’t be letting Mrs. Thomas go! She has worked here at the house for over thirty years!”
Aunt Margaret looked horrified at the suggestion.
“I am sure that Mrs. Thomas has served this family very well. But do not forget, it is a new family, now. My family and I have our own people. I am used to them and they are used to me. I am sure that Mrs. Thomas will want to continue serving Lady Brancepth and her girls. I am sure her loyalty lies with them and not me. Is that not correct, Miss Brancepth?”
Rebecca could feel her cheeks start to flush, as Percy D’Arcy looked down the table toward her, and then all eyes turned to see her reaction.
“I can only say that Mrs. Thomas has been both a loyal worker and friend to us all, sir. I cannot speak for her, but I am sure that she would not like to stay in a house where she was not appreciated or welcome. She will always have a home and employment with us.”
The girl was shocked at her own boldness, hardly knowing where she had found the courage to speak such words, but now that they were out, she was glad. Her father would have been proud.
Before Sir Percy could respond, Mrs. Thomas and the serving boy bustled back into the room to clear away the dishes, and to make room for the next course.
Rebecca immediately stood up and beckoned to her sister, Grace.
“Come along, sister, and we will check on mother, before the rest of the food is served.”
The two girls stood and quickly moved into the hallway.
“Of all the nerve, Grace! That man is intolerable, he really is. The way he thinks he can just push us all around! He has only just arrived, and father just interred. Poor Mrs. Thomas. How on earth will we tell her that the new Duke doesn’t want her to remain as cook?”
Grace sighed. She was a quiet and shy girl who liked harmony, and was quite different from her sister. Yet, despite their differences, the girls were close and confided in each other.
“Well, after all, he is now the Duke, and all of this is rightly his. He can do what he likes. I am sure that Mrs. Thomas will not mind in the least. She would rather stay with us, than work for such a cold fish.”
The girls laughed for the first time that day.
“I suppose that you are right. But it’s the principle of the thing, Grace. He has no respect for us, or the people who work here. As soon as he arrived, he was talking about getting rid of the estate workers, as if they didn’t work hard enough.”
Grace patted her sister’s shoulder.
“Now, do not fret, sister. It has been a long and emotional day. We hardly know Sir Percy yet, and I am sure he is not as bad as he first seems. It must be strange to suddenly find out that you are the new Duke. Perhaps he is a little anxious, too? The son and daughter do not seem to be too bad.”
“You are a kind person, Grace, much better than I could ever be. You see the good in everyone. I haven’t made my mind up about the daughter yet. She seems quite shy and quiet, but as for the son, Edward, he makes me feel awkward. I do not like the way he looks at us.”
Her sister smiled.
“The way he looks at you, you mean? I have noticed the way he keeps looking at you. I think you have an admirer, sister. And look at the way he helped out when you cut your finger.”
“It was only because his father asked him to. I think you are wrong, dear sister. Edward is like his father. Besides, you know that I am spoken for.”
“Thomas did not come back with you today, though. I at least thought that he would have been here for you. I saw you speaking with him at the chapel. Is everything all right?”
“His mother thought it best that they returned straight home. They didn’t want to be an extra burden on mother, what with Sir Percy and the rest of the family here.”
“But surely Thomas is family?”
The girl’s brow furrowed, as she failed to hide her thoughts.
“All is well, Grace. I will write to Thomas tonight. I am sure that he will come over to see me tomorrow.”
Rebecca smiled, pushing the small nagging fear to the back of her mind. There was enough to deal with in the present moment.
•••
The roast beef was served, followed by the apple pie, in relative harmony.
Uncle Joe tried his best to keep the conversation flowing, although it was mainly a monologue, interspersed with a few wise comments from Aunt Margaret.
Percy D’Arcy ate the rest of his dinner in silence. Toward the end of the meal, Uncle Joe once again tried to bring him into the conversation.
“So, when do you return to the Midlands, sir?”
Before answering, Sir Percy finished his spoonful of apple pie and custard he was eating, deliberately taking his time before speaking.
“This is the seat of the Duke of Northumberland, sir, and as the Duke, I will be living here.”
“But surely, you will not be moving in immediately, sir. What about your other home? Surely, you have things that need to be cleared up first.”
“I can send for my things, that is not a problem. I will relay instructions to my people to close down the house in Midford and then come up here. I can conduct my business as well from here as down there.”
“But what will happen to Lady Brancepth and the girls? Where will they live?”
Uncle Joe lowered his voice, as if they were the only ones in the room.
Looking Rebecca squarely in the eye, Sir Percy casually picked up his wine glass.
“I believe that the late Charles Brancepth has a fine house in London that is more than ample for her ladyship and her daughters. It is a very large townhouse I believe. Is that not so, my dear?”
Rebecca hated to be addressed in such a manner, and was definitely not his dear!
Raising her chin slightly, the girl responded boldly.
“We have just laid my dear father to rest, sir, and I do not think that the dinner table is a place to discuss such things, especially as mother is lying ill in bed, and is not here to answer for herself. Yes, we do have a house in London, but it is currently being renovated. That is partly why father was in London, to supervise the work. I am sure that even you, Sir Percy, will allow my mother, sisters and I, time to grieve and make the arrangements we need to, before we are asked to leave our family home. Surely, that is not too much to ask? And now you must excuse us, sir. My sisters and I are very tired and we are going to retire to our rooms for a while. One of the men will show you to your rooms later.”
Gathering up her siblings, Rebecca led them from the Dining Hall, after first kissing goodbye to Aunt Margaret and Uncle Joe. They didn’t live far away, and promised to call again in a few days. Before going to her own room, Rebecca checked in on her mother, who was sleeping soundly. The girl was relieved. At least she wouldn’t have to relay the ins and outs of the conversation to her mother. It would only upset her. She knew her mother would be feeling stronger after a good sleep.
At last, she closed her bedroom door behind her—sanctuary at last. Despite the cold day, the room felt stuffy, and Rebecca opened her window, before sinking onto the bed. She hadn’t realized how tired she was. Now, she really must write to dear Thomas, but her eyes were so heavy. Perhaps if she closed them for just a little while.
5.
The room was in darkness when she awoke with a start, her breathing heavy and her heart racing quickly. For a moment, she didn’t quite know where she was. There was a chill to the room and she shivered slightly, partly remembering her dream.
She had been standing alone in the mausoleum, her father’s coffin on the grey granite slab before her, yet the coffin was open and she could see her father wrapped in a silken shroud. The girl was freezing, but she could not move. A slight breeze entered the chamber, causing the silk shroud to ripple. Yet, it was not the breeze that stirred the shroud, but her father’s hand moving and beckoning her forward. As she stepped toward the coffin, her father sat up, the pennies dropping from his eyes.
“Look after your dear mother for me. Promise me, Rebecca, promise me …”
In her dream, she had run to her father’s side, sobbing, but as soon as she had reached his side, he had disappeared, and all that was left in the coffin, was a pile of ashes.
The breeze whipped up again and the door to the mausoleum closed with a bang, leaving her alone and afraid.
The bedroom window was slightly open, where she had left it, and was banging in the breeze. That had been the noise she had heard in her dream and must have woken her up. It was already dark outside
. After closing the window, she lit the candle on her dressing table, the small light causing long shadows to fall across her room.
Shivering, she felt suddenly hungry. She had hardly eaten anything all day, and now she was starving. Mrs. Thomas would have something left over in the kitchen.
As she exited her room and walked down the hallway, she noticed the house was silent. Rebecca didn’t even know what time it was as she tiptoed down the staircase in silence, the one candle her only light. The grandfather clock on the stairwell showed almost half past seven. She had been asleep for hours. As she descended the stairs, she could hear voices from within the Drawing Room, and quickly recognized the voice of Sir Percy. He must be talking with his son.
Tiptoeing as quietly as possible, she passed the doorway, and hurried along the passageway and down the stairs to the kitchen.
The place was empty. The dinner pots and pans were now clean and put away. There was a plate of cold meat and cheese in the larder and some bread left over from the soup. That would make a fine supper. As she poured herself a cup of milk, a creak on the stairs disturbed her. Blowing out the candle, she hid in the shadows, not wanting to be discovered.
A figure descended the stairs—the shadow looming across the kitchen floor. Whoever it was, carried a candle and was obviously on the hunt for food, just like herself. Standing farther back in the shadows, Rebecca caught the edge of a metal tray upon the wall, which immediately gave out a loud clang, betraying her presence.
“Hello? Who is there?”
The candle was lifted high, lighting up the face of the speaker, but Rebecca already knew who it was—it was his voice—Edward D’Arcy. No longer able to hide, she stepped out into the candlelight, feeling rather foolish.
“Rebecca, you gave me a start. Whatever are you doing hiding down here?”
The girl felt indignant.
“I am not hiding. I am hungry and came to look for some supper. The candle blew itself out and then I heard you. I felt a little foolish, that is all, and that is why I hid.”
