Aeonian: Chapter Fifty-One
Chapter Fifty-One
Chapter Fifty-One
“The next afternoon Beatrice returned to the house. There had been much preparation, not only in airing her room and ensuring it was filled with dried flowers and sweet-smelling herbs, for she had a nose most particular, so Nancy informed me, but all through the house. Christmas was almost upon us, only a spare few days away. The halls were filled with greenery brought in from the gardens, with cheery holly leaves and berries, and with mistletoe hanging from the doorways. Some said it was bad luck to bring greenery in before the eve of Christmas, Brown was one of those and his muttering could be heard on the wind, warning of trouble to come, but Bartholomew scoffed at his superstitions, even though I could have pointed out that bringing greenery into the house was, in itself, a superstition.
The house was full of little joys. There was a perfume of spices and cakes in the air, the smell of scented woods burning in fireplaces and the crisp, hard scent of frost in the mornings. Nancy was busy cooking and commanding the cleaning of the house, Bess ran here and there taking bundles to the kitchens, the bedrooms and bathrooms, and even Brown seemed a little happier in his duties as Christmas approached. Gray, as usual, unless commanded to appear by Bartholomew, was absent. Sometimes I wondered what it was he did in the house.
The house was also full of secrets; I knew Anna was hiding something that she had been making for me. I had walked in on her in the schoolroom, and found her swiftly hiding something under her chair. She had looked up with a pink, flustered face and I pretended to have noted nothing, but all that day when I turned to the blackboard to write out a lesson, I had smiled. I felt loved by the girl in a way no one had ever made me feel, and in turn my love for her made me feel protective.
I too had small gifts, little things which I had either made or ordered; a pair of new, warm stockings for Nancy – she felt the cold most keenly – an embroidered handkerchief for Bess and another two, although plainer, for Brown and Gray. There was a book for Anna of the poetry of Byron which I thought she would enjoy, and two small volumes on rare plants of the Amazon jungle for my cousins, which I had ordered from London. My small wages – infrequently paid – had spread sufficiently and allowed me to feel generous, and I was pleased with the gifts I had secreted under my bed. Although none of them were large, or expensive, I did hope that the members of the household would like them.
Bartholomew had said little to me the day after our dinner or any day following; perhaps he was disappointed by his failure to make me entirely miserable, and I was feeling rather happy that he had failed. The traitorous thoughts too, which invaded my mind, whispering to me that to wish me to be jealous was indeed a sign that he liked me, were also, strangely, making me feel quite satisfied and confident within myself. It so often felt that I was the one with no power and no control, not only in the waking hours of the day but in the strange and passionate dreams of my night, so to possess even a little control, a little power, was quite intoxicating, even if such feelings were not entirely honourable.
Beatrice arrived late that afternoon, her boy Jack joining the household, so it seemed we had yet another servant whose role I was unsure of, and I was glad I had ordered a few sundry bags of fudge from the confectioner in the village, in case I needed a present at the last moment. One of those would do for Jack, as he was scarce more than a lad. I wondered also at Bartholomew saying she was well protected in London. By this boy? I thought even the most decrepit of footpads, of one leg and no arms, would hardly hesitate a moment if this boy was all the protection Beatrice had. I surmised she must have hired other servants in addition to Jack, or they kept more men in London. I knew they had a property there.
Beatrice sent for me perhaps an hour later. I had left a message for her that I needed to speak with her at her desk in the parlour, so it was not a surprise when she sent for me. “Miss Mallory,” she said, looking up from her chair by the fire as I came in. “You requested to see me? I hope that you have been well since I have been away? That event with the creature on the path… I have thought of it often. I do hope that you have not ventured out alone anymore?”
I shook my head. “No, Cousin Beatrice. Your brother commanded I stay within the house and its gardens. Miss Feria and I have only been out to the town aside from that, and then always with Masters Gray or Brown.”
“Good.” She settled back in her chair, waving her pale hand to the one opposite hers for me to sit. I sat down and she smiled at me.
“Was your trip to London successful?” I asked, wondering once more at the spectacular beauty of her face. The smooth skin which covered her delicate high cheekbones, the sparkling waters of her eyes. She was a creature as close to perfection as I could imagine. I smoothed the front of my drab gown and felt as though I was a sack of wool slumped next to a glorious tapestry of gold and silver.
She smiled. “It was, but I am most pleased to be back. Christmas is a time to be within one’s own home, do you not think?”
“I believe it to be so, Cousin Beatrice.” I had never spent Christmas anywhere but in school. Some of the girls had gone home, but I had always remained.
She laughed. “I do hope that after all this time that you would think on our house as being also your home,” she said. “You have not felt unwelcome here, surely?”
“Of course not, cousin,” I said swiftly.
“What is it that you would like to speak to me of?”
“It is Miss Feria.”
Beatrice’s brow furrowed. “I hope that the child has not been causing troubles?”
I shook my head. “No, indeed, Anna is an excellent student and is turning out to be an accomplished young woman,” I hurriedly assured her. “I am most pleased with her advancements in the schoolroom, and her behaviour.”
“Then what brings us to this conversation on the child?”
I smiled. “Miss Feria is a child no longer, cousin.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean she is becoming a woman. A short ago, she had her first experience of the monthly courses. She was at first a little alarmed as she was not sure what was happening to her, but I explained the process, and lent her a belt of mine so that she could stem the flow of her bleed adequately.”
I looked up at Beatrice and started a little. There was an unearthly glow to her face. She had leaned forward just a little and the flicking red light of the fire danced over the shadows of her face giving her an almost predatory expression. I was at once fascinated and horrified by the look on her face. I felt frozen by the violet blue of her eyes and the uncanny hunger that seemed to lie therein.
Beatrice blinked, and the spell seemed to break. I sat back, staring at her, not wanting to take my eyes from her, due to both her beauty and the strange, unsettling sense of danger I felt emanating from her.
“And so, it has come at last…” She looked away from me, staring into the light of the fire as though she looked on in triumph at a field of battle. “After all this time, the girl is ready.”
“It is a natural part of any woman’s life as she grows older,” I stuttered, not knowing what my cousin spoke of. Was she speaking of marriage? That Anna was ready to have children? Surely the girl was still too young for that? “I told Miss Feria that you would have to be informed, and that perhaps you could order purpose-made towels for her.” I trailed off, feeling foolish as Beatrice stared into the fire, a fire burning in her eyes.
“Cousin?” I asked, my voice squeaking like a mouse.
Beatrice looked around and smiled, her face suddenly entirely normal, eyes warm and steady. “I am sorry,” she apologised. “I drifted into my own thoughts for a moment.” She reached over and pressed her hand to mine. “Thank you for taking care of the child during this time. I will of course see that she is properly supplied with all that she needs.” Beatrice breathed in, looking happier than I had ever seen her. “I am so pleased, Miss Mallory, that you came to this house. I hope, in time, to show you how happy you have made us here.”
She said the words warmly, yet in my heart they seemed to strike like a warning bell. I shivered, despite the flames of the hot fire.
“I must speak to my brother now,” she said, getting up from her seat and raising me from my sitting position by taking my hands. “I hope that you will enjoy this Christmas, and the New Year’s celebrations with us, Miss Mallory. You have indeed become as a part of the family, and we are both happy to have you with us. You must know that you are important to my brother and me. In time, we will have the opportunity to show you just how important you are.”
I bowed my head. “Please,” she continued, a girlish smile on her face, “do go to my brother’s study and tell him I want to speak with him here.”
I nodded and left the room. I was puzzled, a little shaken and confused. Her reaction to my news about Anna was entirely bizarre, and her face after I had spoken… I shivered again to remember the bright lights of hunger, of want that had come into her eyes as they stared into the fire. What did it mean when she had said “the girl is ready”?
I shivered again as I set off down the hall for Bartholomew’s study. The bright greenery that covered all the surfaces, the bobbing holly berries and gleaming mistletoe seemed to hold no cheer anymore. I felt as though someone had reached within me and taken my heart, only to replace it with a sense of dread, and darkness.