A Strange Affair

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Authors: Rosemary Smith

 

 

A Strange Affair

 

Rosemary Smith

© Rosemary Smith 2007

 

Rosemary Smith has asserted her rights under the Copyright, Design and Patents Act, 1988, to be identified as the author of this work.

 

First published in 2007 by Linford Romance as WHITE LACE

 

This edition published by Endeavour Press Ltd 2014
 

 

For my two lovely sisters Irene and Ruth

Friends Forever

 

Acknowledgements

 

With thanks to my cousin Barbara Newns of Shrewsbury for giving me the inspiration for my story ‘White Lace’ at Claire and Glen’s wedding.

My grateful thanks to George Gingell of Budleigh Salterton, a connoisseur of music boxes, for the wonderful morning I spent in his home, and for all the valued advice he gave me for my story ‘A Stranger’s Kiss’

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1

 

I first met Kieran Alexander on an autumn day in Shrewsbury in 1883. I’d been looking out of the long glass window of the library at the scene below. I could see Shrewsbury Castle opposite me. Its red walls mellowed to a warm orange by the early afternoon sun matching the autumn leaves which covered the ground on this late September afternoon.

I had little to look forward to, no family and no friends except for Clarissa who taught at the Academy as I had done until two weeks ago, when I was dismissed for taking a pupil’s side, when to my mind she had been treated unfairly. What path lay before me now I had no idea, a post as a governess perhaps, but with no recommendation I doubted whether this would be possible. So I spent my days in the warmth of the library reading books about Elizabeth I and the Tudors, a subject I was avid about.

It filled my days and then the evenings were spent alone in my dingy room except for an hour or two which Clarissa managed to share with me. Thankfully I was surviving on savings I’d accumulated while working and living in the Academy.

A footstep on the dark polished floor behind me interrupted my thoughts and I turned to see who other than myself wished to use the reference department. A silent exclamation escaped my lips as I looked at the tall handsome fair-haired man who stood before me by one of the many tables.

His piercing blue eyes met my grey ones across the room and my heart thudded in my chest, so much so that I was afraid the gentleman would hear it.

‘Good afternoon, Miss...?’ he queried in a soft masculine voice. I had an instant attraction to him as if someone had dealt me a harsh blow.

My legs were weak and trembling and I prayed my voice would not betray my overwhelming emotion.

‘Miss Thorpe, Barbara Thorpe.’ I answered. ‘And you, Sir, are?’

‘Kieran Alexander.’ As he spoke he stepped nearer towards me, I noted the grey bowler hat he held under one arm and the immaculate grey single-breasted morning coat which he wore, together with a white high-necked shirt and red necktie. He looked so handsome and perfect, I could not draw my eyes away, although propriety urged me to do so.

He drew towards me and whispered, ‘We cannot talk here or the librarian will admonish us.’ He said looking across at the prim grey-haired woman who sat at her desk watching us.

I laughed quietly for his eyes were full of mischief and gaiety.

‘So Miss Thorpe, will you do me the honour of joining me for afternoon tea?’ I could not say no, no matter how much my head said beware, you don’t know this man, my heart screamed, yes!

‘Yes,’ I agreed picking up my reticule from the table. I suddenly felt drab in my brown dress and jacket with my best beige-decorated bonnet, but my face must have held a look of eagerness and pleasure and I felt an emotion I had not felt before, it crept over my whole being uninvited yet welcomed and I had yet to work out what it was.

From that day we spent most of our days together. We walked around the castle and spent much time in all weathers walking by the River Severn. We dined each evening at the Clarence Hotel where Kieran was staying.

On each occasion I’d worn my best beige poplin gown and stitched on various collars and cuffs and added trimmings to alter the gown’s appearance. How I wished I could buy another gown, but Kieran was happy as I was, so it mattered little.

I told him my life story, but he told me little about himself, except that he lived in a castle in North Wales with his brother and sister. Sometimes Kieran’s face held a faraway look, but he was soon smiling again. There was a lot I wanted to ask him, for one thing why he didn’t go home, but something stopped me. Was it a premonition that if I asked him all this would end? And the Lord knew how much I didn’t want this ever to be over, this dream world that we were living in, so enrapt was I in the moment that I didn’t give the future a thought. How I was to wish one day that I had.

We were dining on the evening of Christmas day at the hotel, red candles were lit all around us giving everything including Kieran and myself a warm rosy glow. I was partaking of my Christmas pudding and Kieran was watching me, a serious expression on his face. My heart started beating faster with an irrational fear.

‘I have to return home,’ he had said quietly and my heart sank, tears pricked at my eyes and I pushed the plate which held the pudding away from me and dabbed at my mouth with the red napkin.

‘Soon?’ was all I could say. My eyes cast down not daring to look at him for fear he would see the tears.

‘I want you to come with me Barbara, as my wife.’ His words were so unexpected I looked directly at him and mumbled.

‘Your wife? But surely you would wish to marry with your family around you.’

‘No.’ He had said adamantly, ‘I wish to marry in January, quietly without any fuss. You know I was attracted to you from the moment I set eyes on you. I just want it to be us and a couple of witnesses. Please say yes.’ So saying he took my hand across the table and squeezed it gently.

‘Yes,’ I whispered, ‘yes I will marry you. Wherever and whenever you want.’ I agreed without further questioning.

‘Splendid!’ Kieran had replied. ‘I will make the arrangements.’

On Boxing Day Clarissa came to spend the day with me. I danced around my drab dreary room with joy in my heart as I related to my friend my good fortune.

‘But you hardly know him,’ Clarissa had said, and still no doubt entered my mind. All that mattered to me what that I became Mrs Kieran Alexander, Kieran’s wife.

The day of our wedding arrived, Clarissa was to be one of our witnesses as was Mrs Malvers, an acquaintance of Kieran’s, who was staying at the same hotel as he. A carriage had been sent for Clarissa and I and on my arrival at the chapel Kieran had placed my arm through his and smiled down at me encouragingly with Clarissa and Mrs Malvers behind us.

The interior of the small stone chapel was dank and dim, I had not noticed it on the three occasions we had been to a service when the banns were read for our marriage. The grey January day cast little light through the small slit windows, the candle on the bare altar fluttered in the draught from a broken window, throwing an eerie, puny light on my bridegroom and I as we stood before a rotund priest at our marriage ceremony.

‘I pronounce you man and wife,’ the priest said in a mundane voice. Clarissa clapped her hands together at the priest’s words, bringing to a conclusion such a dreary marriage service. I glanced sideways at my tall handsome husband, his face expressionless, his fair hair curling on the collar of his black frock coat. He glanced down at me and smiled.

‘You look beautiful,’ he whispered, although I never considered myself as beautiful, although some said that my grey eyes fringed by long curling dark lashes would attract any man.

I had known Kieran for four months and suddenly realised I knew so little about this man I had just married, except that he was thirty years old and lived in Wales where we were to travel this very day; and that was when the first rumblings of doubt came into my mind.

‘Take my arm, Madam.’ As he spoke in his deep measured voice, Kieran offered me the crook of his arm, I did as I was bid and we proceeded to walk down the aisle. As we stepped out of the chapel door into the yellow daylight large flakes of snow fell like pieces of white lace, adorning my beige-coloured cape which I pulled about my person, for I was cold from head to foot, my nose threatening to drip on to my cape.

As I watched the snow swirling down ever faster I recalled how I had dreamt of marrying a man I loved wearing white lace, so unlike the gown I wore today was my thought as I looked down at my beige-coloured poplin skirts which were already beginning to get wet on the hem, the snowflakes now settling on my black boots causing me to shiver.

‘You are cold, Madam,’ observed my husband solicitously. ‘Let us get you into the carriage.’ Before Kieran helped me into the carriage, Clarissa and I put our arms around each other as she kissed me on the cheek, and Kieran thanked Mrs Malvers. As I was helped up the steps of the carriage I suddenly felt sad and knew I was stepping into the unknown.

I made myself comfortable on the plush red velvet seats as Kieran wrapped a burgundy-coloured blanket around my legs. On looking around the carriage I could see my brown portmanteau containing all my worldly possessions had been placed on the corner of the seat.

Through the window I could see Clarissa waving at me. A tear slipped from my eye and trickled slowly down my cheek lingering on my mouth, a mouth my husband had never ventured to kiss, but he is after all, a gentleman. I chided myself as the carriage moved off.

My friend shouted, ‘Good luck!’ And I watched her and the chapel fade away in the distance until I could no longer see either my friend or the place Kieran and I had become husband and wife. Kieran leant across and took both of my hands in his.

‘No regrets I hope, Mrs Alexander?’ he said quietly.

‘None.’ I assured him, for it wasn’t regrets that I had, but a niggling doubt at the back of my mind, and wondered with some misgivings where he was taking me to spend our first night together as man and wife.

The snow persisted during our journey, driving against the carriage, so much so that we could scarcely see out of the window. We stopped at a hostelry for some refreshment and when we stepped back into the carriage I could see the snow was banking up on each side of the track, and I set to wonder if we would safely reach our destination, but our cheery conversation lightened the journey.

‘We are nearly there, wife,’ Kieran’s voice startled me as he had hardly spoken for the last half-hour. ‘We will be at Rowan Castle in about ten minutes and not before time, I’m thinking. I’ve sent word ahead so we are expected, all will be waiting to meet my bride.’

‘I am looking forward to seeing your home and meeting your family, I pray your castle isn’t too grand for I am just a simple young woman,’ I said pleasantly.

‘You can see for yourself, Barbara.’ As my husband spoke I could see through the driving snow that we had left the mountains behind and turning through some gates travelled up a long driveway flanked by trees, the bare branches of which were heavy with snow. In the distance I could make out a huge building with crenulated towers, the light from the candles already twinkling in many of the windows and smoke spiralling from the chimneys.

As we drew up to the main entrance I gave a gasp of surprise, it was very grand, but in this weather I could barely make anything out except to see that the walls were a sandy red and the vast expanse of the building boasted large mullioned windows.

‘You are impressed, Mrs Alexander?’ Kieran asked of me a smile on his lips.

‘I am overawed, I had not expected...’ I began and could say no more so overwhelmed was I by the immense size of my new home. As I looked one half of the main double doors opened and a woman with a lantern held high called out to us.

‘Welcome home, brother, please hurry, I am anxious to greet your wife.’

As Kieran helped me from the carriage the woman stood at the top of the steps watching our progress towards her. I shielded my face with my hand against the biting snow, how I wished I didn’t feel so weary, all I wanted to do was climb into a soft bed and lie between crisp white sheets, and then the thought came to me that this night I would not lie alone. Reaching the top of the steps I could see the woman with the lantern was as young as I, her fair curls were partly covered by a pale blue lace mantilla which matched the full skirts of her blue merino dress.

‘Come,’ she said taking my arm and drawing me through the main door into the vast hallway where I could see a fire burned cheerily in the huge stone fireplace with a pile of logs stacked against the wall. ‘I am Justine,’ the young woman continued, ‘Kieran’s only sister, welcome to Rowan and to the family. I shall be more than pleased to have your company.’ As she spoke Justine placed the lantern on a chair and then proceed to untie the ribbons of my bonnet which she then removed to reveal my golden brown hair, passing the bonnet to a maid in a black dress with a white frilly apron covering it.

It was then that I saw the row of people waiting to greet me. My cheeks grew hot and all I wished for was to escape, having been so used to spending hours alone I found all these people quite intimidating.

‘This,’ said my sister-in-law stopping by a short buxom woman dressed in a grey serge dress with a white frilly cap covering her dark greying hair, ‘is Mrs Burnet, our housekeeper.’

It’s lovely to meet you, mistress,’ said Mrs Burnet taking one of my hands in both of hers and squeezing it gently, she smiled and her eyes twinkled and I knew that the housekeeper and I would get on well.

‘I’m pleased to meet you,’ I said quietly, still overawed by my surroundings. I felt I was in a dream and at any moment would awaken to find myself in the dingy room I had occupied in my lodgings near Shrewsbury Castle.

‘Mrs Burnet will introduce you to the staff,’ said Justine going back to my husband who stood watching me in silence and I set to wondering what he was thinking. Did he regret marrying me? His expression was unfathomable. While I had been in deep thought, Mrs Burnet and I had moved along the row of head maids and kitchen maids, six in all and then we reached the young woman at the end of the line who was dressed in black like the others with a white apron and a mob cap perched on her black curly hair.

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