Midsummer at Eyre Hall: Book Three Eyre Hall Trilogy (20 page)

Gloomy thoughts tormented my mind as I
thought of my family home, Manderley. I sighed in the first class compartment
as the colossal train hooted and whistled towards the countryside, leaving the
jagged spires and majestic domes of London and its embankment in the distance.
Eventually, the steam engine glided along the rails and I peered out of the mud-splashed
window, watching the procession of posts and the clouds of smoke we left
behind.

I had a duty to my family. Such an
ancient and noble name and fortune as de Winter could not be lost or
squandered. I had to make sure my son would be taken care of after I died, and
I needed to make sure his mother wasn’t the person to do so. She had been
excluded from his life when he was a child. My mother and I had discovered my
unforgiveable mistake. It would be hard to accomplish because the miserable
child had absolutely no other family, except that dreadful woman I once
mistakenly fell in love with.

The stink and grey of London had given
way to clear skies and green meadows, dotted with the occasional scattering of
woodlands. Unfortunately, the best doctors and lawyers were to be found in that
forsaken hell, so my journeys there had been frequent. Neither had offered me
much consolation, which I had warned them I did not require. A doctor or a
lawyer has no place assuming the role of pastor. I wanted answers and earthly
solutions to practical problems, and happily, I had encountered them.   

I smiled, not all was lost. Luck would
have it that a solution had crossed my mind, quite by chance in the shape of
the alluring Mrs. Stewart, or Kirkpatrick, as she now called herself. They had
apologised for their deception and informed me regarding their change of name
and the ordeal they had endured.

I could tell when I met her at the school
that she was an extraordinary woman, not a normal schoolteacher at all.
Although I realised at the time that she was obviously lying to me, I would
have married her and left everything in her hands, on the condition that she
would look after my son after my death, oversee his marriage, and make sure our
surname withstood another generation. Unfortunately she was already married and
was not prepared to be lured away from her possessive husband as quickly as was
required, so I had to employ a different approach.

  My lawyer had advised me how I should
proceed in order to safeguard my interests, and my doctor had informed me of
the amount of time at my disposal. I was confident that I could accomplish my
objectives if I acted quickly and astutely.

I was exhausted on my return to
Manderley, but I did not hesitate. A message was dispatched immediately and I
begged Mr. and Mrs. Kirkpatrick to visit me, on a matter of the utmost urgency,
the following morning. I had hardly slept due to the expectation my plan had
aroused in me, but I was convinced the circles around my eyes and my fatigue
would only inspire her pity. Her husband would do whatever she decided, of that
I was quite sure. She was my target.

I greeted them warmly at the door
myself. I had asked Fritz to leave us alone throughout our conversation. I did
not want anyone to suspect until after the transactions had been completed.  

 “Mr. and Mrs. Kirkpatrick, it’s so good
of you to come at such short notice.” I led them into the drawing room. “Please
be seated.”

They obliged, but Mrs. Kirkpatrick made
sure I understood their impatience. “We are very busy, Mr. de Winter, because
we are preparing for a long journey to Eyre Hall.”

“I hope the urgency is not for a serious
reason.”

 “Not at all. My son is getting
married.”

“Congratulations. I hope that doesn’t
mean that you’ll be leaving Cornwall and returning to Yorkshire.”

“We’re not making any definite plans
yet, but at the moment we’d like to stay in this area, wouldn’t we, Michael?”
She handed the conversation over to her husband skilfully. Her ability to wrap
such a headstrong and commanding man around her little finger was admirable.

“We’ll be staying for a while. I’ve made
Mr. Blains an offer for his fishing business,” he said.

“Blains, the pilchard man?” Kirkpatrick
nodded. “Excellent. It’s a lucrative business, although old Blains never had
his heart in it. He wanted to keep it small, just the family. I suppose now
that his family’s left, he’s no longer interested in keeping it.” That was
excellent news. “I presume you’ve thought of expanding, Mr. Kirkpatrick?”

“I’d like to can and bottle the
pilchards and sell them in London.”

“I admire your ambition, Mr.
Kirkpatrick, and it will bring jobs and prosperity to the area.”

“I hope so.”

 “If you need any assistance, please let
me know.” Mr. Kirkpatrick nodded, but his expression was of curiosity rather
than gratitude. He didn’t trust me, probably because he had noticed my interest
in his wife. Soon he would realise that, much to my chagrin, I would pose him
no threat.

“And Mrs. Kirkpatrick, I trust you will
continue your work at our school?”

“Of course. I’d also like to find a good
school for Helen. She’ll need more than piano, needlework, and French soon.”

“I’m sure you’re perfectly capable of
teaching her all she needs to learn, but I agree that a good finishing school
would be an excellent idea. May I suggest Cheltenham Ladies College? It’s an
excellent institution, near Bristol.”

“Thank you Mr. de Winter. We’ll look
into it when the time comes.”

“Helen is such a lovely child. I’m very
pleased that Max has found such an agreeable friend. He’s a shy and difficult
child, but he has a good heart.”

“He seems a generous and thoughtful
child. He must miss his mother and grandmother,” said Mrs. Kirkpatrick.

“He cannot miss his mother because he
never knew her. My mother, his grandmother, was like a mother to him. She meant
well, but perhaps she made him melancholic, as she was herself.”

My mother’s memory always made me feel
mournful. After some silent moments, Kirkpatrick spoke.

“What is it you would like to speak to
us about, Mr. de Winter?” I looked into his amber eyes, shrewd and predatory,
like a wolf’s. I wondered if he would ever be considerate to my son. I had
already noticed he was protective with Helen and wary of Max. I didn’t mind.
Max was wayward and needed a firm hand, but he also needed guidance. 

“We do not wish to be rude, but we have
many matters to arrange before we leave. We only have a few days left to
prepare if we are to arrive at Eyre Hall before Midsummer,” Mrs. Kirkpatrick
added apologetically. It was obvious that she was a master at controlling the
beast that so evidently resided in her husband.

“Naturally, please forgive me for
beating about the bush. This is not easy for me, but I have no alternative. I’m
afraid I have to open my heart and soul to you both and ask you for an
invaluable favour.”

I stood and paced the room, no longer
able to control my anxiety.

Mrs. Kirkpatrick spoke. “We will assist
you in any way we can, Mr. de Winter. Please tell us how we can help.”

I decided to place the facts before them
plainly. “I am dying. In fact, according to my doctors, I only have some months
left.”

Mrs. Kirkpatrick’s face twisted
painfully, yet it did not detract from her beauty. “I’m sorry to hear such bad
news, Mr. de Winter. How tragic for your son.”

I wasn’t a sentimental person, but I
noticed my eyes fill with tears. I had not uttered the words aloud to anyone. I
had known there was something seriously wrong when I spat blood frequently. I
wondered if it might be tuberculosis, although I had no fever and there had
been no cases in the area recently. I had listened patiently when my doctor
informed me that there was a growth in my throat, which would soon make it
impossible for me to eat, speak, or even drink. I realised I could hardly utter
a word due to the emotion.

Mrs. Kirkpatrick approached me, resting
her hand on my arm. “Do you have any relatives, Mr. de Winter?”

“None,” I managed to answer, but I could
not pronounce any more words.

“Please sit down and tell us how we can
help.” She pulled me towards an armchair and I dropped into the seat, covered
my face with my hands and cried.

Seconds later, a glass of brandy was thrust
in my hand by her husband. The burning sensation calmed my aching throat and my
nerves.

“I don’t expect an answer today, but I
beg you to consider my petition and tell me your decision as soon as possible.”
They both nodded and observed in absolute silence.

“Max will be entirely alone in the
world, and you will agree that he’s too young to look after himself. He needs a
family, affections, love and guidance, from good, honest people such as
yourselves.” I could see they were both in a state of shock, but as I had
summoned the courage to speak, I had to complete my request. “I’m asking you to
look after my son, as if he were your own.”

Mrs. Kirkpatrick held her husband’s hand
as if she were pacifying him. I could tell he was feeling unease while she was
feeling pity, but at least they were listening, so I continued.

“I have been thinking about my son for
some time, and I have been discussing matters with my lawyers in London.
Something could be arranged, which would be beneficial to all of us. If you agree,
I will authorise you both to take over all matters pertaining to my son’s
future until he is twenty-three. You will take care of his income and authorise
his marriage settlement.”

“That is a great responsibility, Mr. de
Winter,” said Mr. Kirkpatrick, with a far kinder tone than his expression
suggested. “Are you sure there’s no one else you’d like to contact?” 

“I don’t expect you to help my son at
your own expense. I would like to sell you Manderley.”

Mrs. Kirkpatrick spoke. “I’m afraid we
couldn’t possibly afford Manderley.”

“I could sell you half of Manderley at a
very reasonable price. You would be joint owners of the house and the property
with my son.”

“You forget we have a daughter,” said
Mrs. Kirkpatrick. As I guessed, she would negotiate financial matters; an
assertive and intelligent woman, well ahead of her time. If her daughter were
only half the woman her mother was, my son would be a very fortunate man.

“How could I forget your charming
daughter?  I would also ask you to name my son as your heir as well as your
daughter, so in the future they will be joint owners of the property. In fact,
I hope one day they will marry.”

Mr. Kirkpatrick broke away from his
wife’s hold and loomed over me. I spoke quickly to pacify him. “Eventually
Manderley will belong to both of them. They will be equal partners.”

“We will not force Helen to marry
against her wishes,” said her protective stepfather. I trusted him. He would be
a demanding yet fair father figure for my son.

“Of course not. I wouldn’t force Max either,
but I’m sure they’re in love already.”

Mr. Kirkpatrick looked as if he wanted
to hit me. His wife approached, leaning into his arm and saying his name
softly. The effect was immediate. He unclenched his fists and let her take over
the conversation.

“Mr. de Winter, my daughter is twelve
and Max is sixteen. They’re children.”

“Age is irrelevant where love is
concerned. You should know that Mrs. Kirkpatrick.”

Her husband’s answer came at once. “You
will take care how you address my wife, Mr. de Winter. You have no business
telling her what she should know.”

“Excuse me, Mrs. Kirkpatrick, I meant no
disrespect.”

She nodded. “I have noticed Helen is
very fond of Max, but she hasn’t met any other young boys yet.”

“They have already pledged their love.”

She gasped at my revelation. “What do
you mean?”

“Mrs. Benson overheard them at Cove
Cottage. They carried out a ritual. They cut their thumbs, mingled their blood
and promised to love each other forever.”

“Jane, I told you I didn’t like Helen
spending so much time with Max. She’s too young.” He turned to me, “Helen will
not be forced to marry against her wishes because of a pledge she made when she
was a child. We will certainly not bargain with our daughter, Mr. de Winter.”

“I think you will find they are already
falling in love. If he is under your custody you will make sure he will not
overstep his mark, but I know my son is smitten. Max isn’t a child. He is
almost seventeen. Are you sure he can’t have found the right woman already, Mr.
Kirkpatrick?”

He turned to his wife, squeezed her hand
and closed his eyes as if he were in pain. I was sure he had fallen in love
with his wife at that age. He understood the power of first love, yet he was
worried about his step-daughter. His wife spoke. 

“Perhaps your son is in love, Mr. de
Winter, but Helen is twelve. You will agree with me that we must wait to see
how their relationship develops before we make any decisions on their behalf.”

“In any case, Helen will not marry
anyone until she is twenty-one, so your son had better respect her until that
moment,” added Mr. Kirkpatrick.