Death of a Schoolgirl: The Jane Eyre Chronicles (33 page)

“And your friend? Fräulein Hertzog?”

“She was told to leave Selina alone. Of course, the girl understood she had this new power—and everything was worse. She could do whatever she pleased! Selina teased Fräulein about the dead bird. Putting the feathers on Fräulein’s pillow! And in her food! My poor friend went mad with grief. And what did Mrs. Thurston do to help? Nothing. Nothing at all!”

“So Fräulein left?”

“Home to Germany.”

“I am sorry.” My words sounded inadequate, but I was struggling to find an explanation for this odd turn of events. Who, I wondered, was the man who visited Mrs. Thurston—and what did he say that changed the balance of power?

Signora Delgatto grabbed my arm, her nails digging into my skin. “Listen to me. Leave this place. Leave it now. These children, they care nothing for us. Do you know what this girl did to her own governess? She pushed that woman down a well! Broke her arm! Left her there for two days while she cried for help.”

“Oh my,” I said. “How awful.”

“That is not all. Then Selina found a snake and dropped it on the governess just to hear her scream! Finally, someone
heard the teacher and she was rescued. But a few days later, the poor girl went mad and hanged herself from a rafter in the carriage house.”

Pulling me down to her level, the signora locked her eyes on mine. “Find another way to survive, but do not surrender your life to the children of other people! Especially children like this! They have so much and they give us nothing in return! Nothing! They do not treat us like humans. They treat us worse than the dumb animals!”

We both heard the noise of horses stopping outside. I disentangled myself from Signora Delgatto’s grip and ran to the front window to see a carriage on the street.

“Hurry! Someone is coming! We must go,” I said to the Italian woman, taking her by the arm and heading her toward the door. “Ah! There it is! I spy my glove. Under the coffin.”

Leaving her in the doorframe, I ran to grab my missing glove. As she waited for me, Signora Delgatto’s narrow shoulders slumped, tenting the fabric of her mourning dress. “You do not listen. You do not understand.”

“On the contrary, I have listened and understood you. And I share your sorrow. But Selina Biltmore will answer to a greater judge, Signora Delgatto. This I believe. Now please, we must go.”

Leaning heavily on me, she limped into the hall. There I bid her good-bye and hurried outside, where I glimpsed the Biltmores as they were climbing out of a carriage. Fortunately, they did not see me. I hurried down the street to where the girls were still being amused by the little dog.

“All right now, ladies. Tell the dog good-bye,” I said as I herded my charges farther from Alderton House.

Away from the morbid atmosphere of the school, the girls giggled among themselves. After a while, Rufina added a hop to her step and skipped toward the park. In short order, the others joined in. Their gaiety did my heart good, so I chose not to admonish them to act like ladies.

I walked at a brisk pace to keep up with the students. Perhaps Miss Jones had a perfectly good reason for clipping so much of Selina’s hair. I knew nothing of funerary jewelry. Was it possible that Miss Jones needed locks of a certain length or thickness? Was that why she robbed Selina of her beauty? Or had Miss Jones intended to deal the corpse one last indignity? Was she as bent on revenge as Signora Delgatto was?

As puzzling as these questions were, Lucy and Mr. Douglas would help me think through them. There was so much that I was eager to share! What with the footprints on the landing and all the new knowledge I had about Selina. Especially the visit from the mysterious man who had interceded on Selina’s behalf, and how his visit marked a change in the girl’s privileges.

Taken individually, these bits of information probably meant nothing, but in the aggregate they might form a pattern. The question was, could we see it?

Lucy and Mr. Douglas sat on the same bench, waiting for our arrival. I could tell as we approached them that Lucy fairly hummed with excitement. Today she wore a dress of maroon, trimmed with black. The girls swarmed around first her and then Mr. Douglas and Rags to say hello. They lingered to stroke the soft muslin fabric of her dress. “Thank goodness you are here,” Lucy whispered in my ear as she embraced me. “I have important news.”

“So have I,” I said. “Let me start the girls on their lesson.”

Taking the girls a few yards away, I lectured my students about the different shapes of birds’ beaks, and how those beaks are suited to the industry of the species. In the school’s library, I had found a copy of my old favorite Bewick’s
History of British Birds
, and this I showed as a reference. The girls were assigned the task of drawing and writing an essay, comparing and contrasting four or more types of birds. With my students thus involved in their work, I would be able to speak freely with my friends, taking care to act as if we were having the most casual of chats, although we were actually discussing a matter of life and death.

“Do you feel safe, Jane? I need to know. If at any time you feel endangered, don’t hesitate to send for us. Bruce is staying at my house for the interim. Higgins and Williams might not look like much, but they both served Augie in Bombay. They are tested and true.”

Once she was assured of my well-being, Lucy took a deep breath and said, “I have been asking questions about the Biltmores while out making my morning calls. What I have learned puts everything that has happened into a new framework—and it might well color whatever you have discovered since we talked last.”

“Pray continue. You have my complete attention.”

“As you know, the Biltmores are from Brighton. In fact, Mr. Biltmore sold our King the farmland on which he built his Marine Pavilion.”

Even in secluded Ferndean, we had heard how our current King, back when he was Prince of Wales, decided to turn a simple farmhouse on the southern coast into a pavilion, a fabulous showplace for his collection of Chinese wallpaper, furnishings, and pieces of art. By 1815, the villa seemed overcrowded, so the Prince hired John Nash to transform it into a palace. While His Majesty’s trips to Brighton began as a way to improve his health, the seaside resort quickly became known for encouraging His Royal Highness to indulge in habits destructive to his well-being: gluttony, drunkenness, and carousing.

“Seems that the Biltmores eagerly pursued an invitation to one of King George IV’s many parties. It was there that His Majesty took notice of Selina.” Lucy paused.

I buried my face in my hands. Oh, to have such a man on our throne! But before I could regain my composure, another thought came. “Lucy, you can’t mean…that Selina and our sovereign—”

“No,” Mr. Douglas said solemnly. “She was not his paramour. But I have heard a rumor that her mother was.”

“Then that means it is possible Selina was…his daughter?” I gasped as I realized the full import of this.

By all accounts, when he was younger, the Prince of Wales was intelligent, charming, and socially precocious. But he also had a disastrous weakness: He fell head over heels in love often and indiscriminately, frequently pursuing women who spurned him. In fact, the more they rebuked him, the harder he chased them, until he went so far as to marry one woman, Maria Fitzherbert, in a wholly illegal ceremony performed by a curate sprung from debtors’ prison just for the event. Of course, his father, George III, turned a blind eye, and the powers that be protested that his marriage was but a sham. After all, our nation depended upon the heir to the throne to do his duty as a sovereign to produce his own royal heir—and for that to happen, the Prince would have to participate in a legitimate marriage to a royal princess. Caroline of Brunswick became his wife, and soon after, his enemy. When George III descended into madness, the Prince of Wales, his son George Augustus Frederick, was named Regent. Then George III died and the Regent became King George IV. Now our new sovereign and his estranged wife, Caroline, were locked in a battle playing itself out on the grand stage of the British Parliament as he accused her of committing adultery.

“Selina could have been one of his many illegitimate children,” Lucy corrected me.

We three sat there silently, each lost in thought, until Rags whimpered for affection.

“But one of the girls told me that Selina had a special friend, whose name was Prinny,” I said.

Lucy covered her mouth and smothered a guffaw. “That’s the nickname that Mrs. Fitzherbert’s adopted daughter gave the King.”

“That explains a lot,” I said. “Especially why Selina’s ‘friendship’ was an open secret.”

“Yes,” Mr. Douglas agreed. “Also why Marcus Piper was reluctant to talk to me and why Mr. Waverly is involved.”

“No wonder Mrs. Thurston stood aside and let the girl have her way. In the beginning, the superintendent must not have
known about her parentage. Then Fräulein Hertzog caught the girl sneaking and tried to exact a punishment. In retribution, Selina killed the woman’s pet canary and teased the woman by scattering its feathers around.”

“What a monstrous thing to do!” Lucy said.

“Oh, there’s more. I learned today that Selina pushed her own governess down a well and dropped a snake on the woman. She seems to have been a truly horrid girl.” I paused. “But back to Selina’s status at the school. It seems that Mrs. Thurston rescinded the punishment for sneaking out after a man came to visit the superintendent. I surmise the man must have been a representative from the King,” I said. “But I don’t understand why Selina was enrolled at Alderton House at all. Wouldn’t the King have given her suitable lodging and an allowance?”

“Gads, no,” Mr. Douglas said. “He is more likely to pay her to go away than to foot the bills to keep her!”

“But to house one of the King’s children at a school?” I persisted.

“Let me suggest a reason, based on what I’ve heard,” Lucy said. “The Biltmores are heavily in debt. A house in London is always expensive. More so during the Season. And staffing a suitable dwelling only adds to the cost. However, the cost for Selina to attend school here was, in comparison, a pittance. And this prime location kept their daughter easily accessible to His Majesty.”

“What did her parents hope to gain?”

“I imagine they hoped the King would find favor with her, and perhaps give her an allowance or a place at court.” Lucy frowned thoughtfully. “Any of those choices would have improved the Biltmores’ fortunes.”

A faint smile played on Mr. Douglas’s lips. “Remember that we said Mr. Biltmore was a gambler? I believe he was gambling that his daughter could win the prize. Not a crown, not a place in line to the throne, but a settlement. It has happened before.”

“That is the saddest part of this scheme.” Lucy shook her
head. “Prinny has never acknowledged any of his illegitimate offspring. He barely paid attention to his legitimate daughter, Princess Charlotte. And then she passed on.”

Yes, I had heard all about that. Princess Charlotte had died in childbirth. The poor girl had already miscarried twice before that third, fatal, attempt. My mouth filled with a bitter taste. “If that is how our royal family treats their children, I want no part of them! If a child is born on the wrong side of the blanket, it certainly is not the fault of the child!”

“You must understand what is at stake here.” Mr. Douglas sighed. “It is His Majesty’s duty to provide a legitimate heir. That secures an orderly transfer of power. With the death of his only daughter, and his animosity toward his wife, he has failed—and he is keenly aware of it. One reason he would like to be rid of Queen Caroline of Brunswick is so that he might remarry and fulfill his responsibilities. Perhaps if that happens, he might be more willing to acknowledge his illegitimate offspring.”

My disgust for our King must have been fully apparent.

“Jane, our sovereign was forced by his father to marry a woman wholly unsuitable to be his wife. He had no choice in the matter. In fact, he was forced to give up the one woman he truly loved. Does that not sound familiar to you?” Lucy put a gentle hand on mine.

In response, I gave hers a light squeeze. “Yes, I guess that it does,” I said, recalling my own Edward’s first marriage.

“I imagine that the Biltmores hoped Selina would be given a settlement that would make a fine dowry,” Lucy said quietly. “Perhaps they thought that our King might make a match for her.”

“Prinny has been known to be extraordinarily generous on occasion,” Mr. Douglas said. “And whether he acknowledged Selina or not, it’s true he adores children.”

“But she is—was—no child,” I said, jumping in to clear up that misunderstanding by explaining how I’d seen the body of a mature and rather robust young woman.

“No wonder she could bully her friends,” Mr. Douglas said. “Now that we’ve had our soupçon of scandal, what else do you have for us, Mrs. Rochester?”

I told them about the Biltmores’ visit. “Selina’s father said that Caje was supposed to keep an eye on his daughter. It sounds as if they had some sort of an arrangement.”

My students passed the copy of Bewick’s around as they talked among themselves. I could see the girls marveling, as I once had, over the vignettes describing a desolate coast far away. In that place, one could be miserably cold, but free of all painful human contact. The bleak settings both captivated and appalled me, as they predicted a sad future for those of us who were plain, obscure, and alone.