Twelfth Night at Eyre Hall (5 page)

“Jane, I’ve asked Captain and Mrs.
Carrington and Lieutenant Kirkpatrick to spend Christmas with us. Would you
mind if they came with us to Eyre Hall on Christmas Day?”

Jane stared back at her cousin, but made
no attempt to reply. Mrs. Carrington broke the uncomfortable silence. “We’ll be
staying at the Rochester Arms. We would not want to impose on your hospitality.
I have never been to the north of England before, and I would like to see as
much as possible.” She glanced at Jane. “Of course, if it is not convenient…”

Jane seemed paralysed, so I attempted an
answer. “I’m afraid Eyre Hall will be very busy this Christmas. We are
expecting some guests. Admiral Fitzjames and Diana, Mr. Mason, Adele, Mr.
Greenwood and Dante, John, and Phoebe, his fiancée, and her sister, Clarissa, but
the Rochester Arms has comfortable rooms.” I turned to look at Jane, begging
her to reply.

Jane spoke at last. “You are, of course,
all welcome for lunch on Christmas Day.”

“Thank you for your kind invitation,
Mrs. Mason,” said Mrs. Carrington before turning to her husband and patting his
hand. “We shall be staying at the Rochester Arms then. How wonderful!”

“I understand Lieutenant Kirkpatrick
would like to see his sister, wouldn’t you, my boy?”

“Yes. I haven’t seen Susan for over a
year. We have family matters to discuss.”

“Susan is in London at the moment; she
has recently returned from Italy with Adele and Mr. Greenwood, and his son,
Dante,” I said.

“I trust she is well?” asked Michael,
and I wondered why he sounded worried.

“As far as I know she’s well. I believe
she enjoyed her stay in Italy. Did she not write to you while she was away?”

“Not very often. It’s not easy to
receive letters at sea.”

The rest of the meal proceeded with more
chatter about the sights to see in the environs, and the advantages of living
in the countryside. Jane hardly spoke, and excused herself to rest in her room
as soon as the meal was over.

We left two days later, after an early
breakfast. She had spent most of the time at Thorpe Hall in her room,
complaining of a headache. She did not speak in the carriage on the way back.
There was nothing I could do. It was her way of coping. She closed up and built
a fortress around herself, as I had so often seen her do. 

***

“Beth, I don’t want you going into
Hood’s room no more,” Simon warned me.

It was always hell downstairs when Mr. Mason
was staying at Eyre Hall, but even more so now that Mrs. Mason was away, so we
were alone with the hoodlum, Hood, as we called him, ’cos he was always holding
a candle to the devil and causing havoc.

I didn’t mind because I had done it
before. I had put up with my brothers, sometimes two at a time, and I’d seen my
mum get beaten by my dad and his friends. Hood wasn’t that bad, and he was over
real quick. Sometimes he called me and Jenny together, and I didn’t mind
either, except Simon was upset, said it weren’t right now that we was going out.

Hood arrived yesterday, furious ’cos
there was no one at home. He was bored and drunk as a lord before lunch. We
heard him trip down the steps, swearing and frightening us out of our wits, and
then he barged into Mrs. Leah’s drawing room demanding entertainment for the evening.
We listened behind her door, poor Christy and me.

“Where the hell is everybody in this
damned house? It’s as quiet as a graveyard!” He sounded real angry.

“Who were you wishing to speak to, Mr.
Mason?” replied Leah ever so calmly, the way she spoke when she was furious,
but didn’t want anyone to notice.

“Where is Jane?”

“She is visiting her cousin, Mrs. Fitzjames,
with Miss Annette.”

“What about Adele and her fiancé?”

“They are in London. They are expected to
arrive within a day or two.”

“And John?”

“Master John is visiting the Jacksons, I
believe.”

“Jenny and Thomas?”

“Thomas has taken the carriage to ride
his mother to Millcote. She needed threads and buttons for her sewing.”

“And the valets?”

“Simon and Fred have gone to fetch more
coal and wood for the fires. We have run out. It has been an unusually cold autumn,
and all the hearths have been in full swing all month.”

“And the little urchin?”

“Nell is at school.”

“When will she be back?”

“Jenny and Thomas will collect her on
their way back from Millcote.”

“Of course. Well, perhaps it is too soon
for her. She can wait until my next visit. And the chits?”

“Christy, Daisy and Beth are washing in
the scullery and scrubbing the pots in the kitchen.”

“Daisy does not please me. She has revolting
pockmarks. She is too tall, thin as a rake, and looks like a boy. Where did
Jane find such a hideous creature?” 

“She is a hard–working lass.” 

“The other one, Christy, is she a
virgin?”

“I cannot tell, Mr. Mason.”

“Has she got a suitor?”

“I believe not.”

“Ever had one?”

“I wouldn’t know.”

“Send her up to my room this evening,
with Beth, so she knows what it’s about.”

“What about Jenny, sir?”

“I may require Jenny tomorrow. She is
more experienced, but she is getting too fat around the waist, too ample around
the buttocks, and too amenable. Tonight I would like a tighter fit, firmer breasts,
and some resistance. I would like to play with Beth and Christy.”

“That may be a problem.”

“Will they be out of the house, too?”

“Beth has a suitor.”

“Who?”

“Simon.”

“That idiot! He is thick as a brick. He
won’t even notice, my dear.”

“I’m afraid Christy isn’t that sort of
girl.”

“She’s got a muff, hasn’t she? They’re
all that sort of girl, Mrs. Leah.”

“I mean she doesn’t like boys, I
believe.”

“Nonsense. I put my hand up her skirt
and pinched her yesterday, and she did not even flinch. On the contrary, she
hurried out looking flushed. She wants it and she is going to get it. Just make
sure she knows what to expect.”

“I think it would be better to wait for
Jenny to return and perhaps Beth will oblige. Christy will be of little use to
you.”

“Well, it would take one to know one,
wouldn’t it?”

“That is an offensive remark, Mr. Mason.
I am unmarried, but I have never maintained a relationship with a female.”

“I have told you who I want this evening,
Leah. I do not expect you to neglect my instructions.”

“Mrs. Mason would be displeased.”

“Mrs. Mason will never know, and in any
case, she will be pleased for any distraction which keeps me away from her room,
will she not?”

Silence, then he spoke again. “After
dinner. At eight-thirty sharp. In my room.”

He turned and wobbled back up the
stairs. We had listened to every one of his cruel and vicious words holding our
hands to our mouths so he wouldn’t hear our gasps. Christy was crying by the
time we heard the top door close. We burst into Mrs. Leah’s room in horror and
revulsion.

“I’m afraid there is nothing I can do
girls. He is the master and you are the servants. If you want to keep your jobs
you’ll have to oblige.”

Christy wailed miserably. “I cannot bear
any man to touch me, especially not him. I can’t do it. I’d rather die. I’d
rather he beat me to death.”

“Christy, would you let him touch you?
I’ll do all the rest. He won’t notice. Mrs. Mason will be back tomorrow and he
won’t dare when she’s at Eyre Hall. We’ll threaten to tell her.”

Christy tugged at Leah’s dress sleeve. “Mrs.
Leah, you have to help me.” Leah was the only person in the house, except Mrs.
Mason who dared to stand up to him, but she was scared of him, too.

“I’m afraid there’s nothing I can do.”
She was heartless. She knew it would kill Christy, who was in love with Daisy,
but still, she didn’t care.

Christy used to like the boys, until
last year when a gang raped her on her way back from Hay. She had drunk too
much gin, but in any case, she couldn’t have fought them all off. On full moon
nights, they stalked their prey and attacked like a pack of hungry wolves. She
knew who they were, we all did. Mr. Raven’s son and his friends. We told her to
tell Mrs. Mason, because Mr. Raven was afraid of her, but she said they
threatened to do it again if she told anyone what had happened, so she never
did.

It was just some fun for them, but Christy
changed after that. She never went out, said she hated men, and vowed that not
one of them would ever touch her again. Daisy was good to her. She used to work
at the George Inn. Leah called her when we had guests and more servants were
needed. Then Leah asked her to stay on because she was tall, strong and hardworking,
and perhaps because she liked bathing her on Saturdays. Soon, Daisy and Beth
became close, so close they spent winter nights huddled in bed. I had thought
it was due to the cold, but they huddled even more in summer, so I guessed they
were tipping the velvet. Daisy was kind to Christy, and suddenly she was
smiling again, like she used to, although she never ever left Eyre Hall. She
wouldn’t even go out as far as the steps to the gardens.

I would have liked to marry Michael. He
kissed me once. I used to think he might like me, but he was just playing
around. We all soon noticed he had higher ambitions, too high for his own good.
After he left, Fred was employed. I never liked him very much. He was too quiet
and reserved. I didn’t trust him. Then Simon started chatting me up, until he
finally asked me out, and we became special friends. He said he loved me, and I
told him I loved him too, but I lied. I didn’t think I could do much better. He
is a good, kind boy, so I hope to marry him one day and have children of my
own, and perhaps a little house on the estate. Who knows?

When I told Simon, he said I was his
girlfriend so I couldn’t please Hood no more. Christy wouldn’t be able to please
Hood either, so that’s when I devised my plan. No one would help us, so we had
to fend for ourselves.

I told Simon to get Mrs. Mason’s
laudanum. She don’t usually take any, but she always has a bottle in her room,
for headaches and women’s pains. Simon and Fred served his dinner, so I told
Simon to get rid of Fred and put some drops in Hood’s wine first, and then in
his brandy, so he’d be so foxed he wouldn’t last long once we were in the room
with him. He wouldn’t remember nothing the next day. We’d have to be careful,
because we’d be doing it all through Christmas while he was in residence, so I told
Simon to get a bottle from the apothecary, ’cos Mrs. Mason would notice if a
whole bottle went missing.

I had no idea how many drops would be
enough, or the effects of mixing it with booze, other than drowsiness, but he
had it coming to him. I’m not sorry for what I did. He was an evil geezer.

***

I had hoped to return to England as Mrs.
Adele Greenwood, but our wedding has been postponed on so many occasions that I
wondered if it would ever take place. We were about to be married in Venice last
April when my mother died. It was not entirely unexpected, because she had been
ill for some time. Nevertheless, the suddenness of her death altered all our
plans. We decided to postpone the wedding until September, but again, just a
few weeks before the event, when I presented William with the premarital
agreement Mr. Briggs had sent me, he suggested we should discuss the matter in
person with Mr. Briggs and Jane in England.

We thought it would be a good idea to do
so at Jane’s wedding on All Hallows, but Jane was adamant that it was to be a
small wedding, and nobody was to attend, except Annette, who was back from
Brussels, so we stayed in Venice. William then suggested we return for
Christmas and discuss our wedding arrangements with Jane, as well as Dante’s
future. He suggested Annette would remain unmarried unless she found a suitor
soon, and thought it would be advantageous for Jane to have Annette out of Eyre
Hall.  He proposed a double wedding in the spring between us and Annette and
Dante.

I was becoming more worried about my
future as Mrs. Greenwood, and I was sure Mr. Briggs’s contract had a great deal
to do with William’s decision. His funds were diminishing, and the dowry Mr.
Rochester had provided for me was not as high as he had expected. I told him
Jane would offer more if it were needed, but he did not want to discuss
financial matters openly with me.   

I had written to Annette and informed
her about my fiancé’s wishes, but she said she did not plan to marry yet. I
told her I thought she was being ungrateful, and that we should help each
other, but she seemed unmoved by my pleas. Jane said she would not force
Annette to marry against her wishes and suggested that William should sign the
contract and marry me, as he had promised. When I told her that he seemed
disappointed with the dowry, she was displeased.

“If Mr. Greenwood wishes to renegotiate
the premarital contract or requires a higher dowry, he must put forward a
proposal to me, in Mr. Briggs’s presence, as soon as possible, but the wedding will
not be postponed a third time.”

“But, Jane! That could jeopardise my
marriage. He could refuse to marry me. I’ll be a spinster again, and no one
will marry me this time!”

Jane was unmoved. “He will not be
allowed to play with you, Adele,” were her last words.

Jane had grown reserved and taciturn
since Edward had died and we had all left Eyre Hall. Her letters were friendly
and informative at first, but I soon noticed there was more information
withheld than communicated, and since our return, we had barely spoken for more
than a few minutes.

Surprisingly, Jane seemed to have grown
closer to Annette, despite her prolonged stay in Brussels. I was most upset
when I saw Annette enter her chamber earlier that evening to help her dress for
our Christmas dinner party. I had helped Jane dress since she married Monsieur,
yet she had thrust me away in favour of Bertha’s daughter, most ungratefully.
When I asked her if she needed my assistance, she said, “Make sure you do not
neglect Mr. Greenwood,” which was her stock phrase every time I had tried to
approach her since my return. 

I had imagined that the dinner party
would be an ideal occasion for Annette and Dante to become friends, but
unfortunately, no such thing happened. It was a merry reunion for the most
part, filled with varied guests. The table was exquisitely laid, with our
finest china dishes, fine Italian crystal goblets, sterling silver cutlery,
sparkling cut glass decanters etched with grape and vine. Leah, as always,
managed to excel on grand occasions. Cook had prepared a feast for us including
roast turkey, mince pies, and plum cake with a sprig of holly on the top.

We had two merry visitors, Judge
Harwood’s youngest daughters, Phoebe, John’s loquacious fiancée, and Clarissa
her lively younger sister who insisted we decorate Eyre Hall for Christmas as
everyone did in London. I helped them adorn the windowsills with Christmas
wreaths made of yew, holly and holly berries tied with raffia. Jenny was
instructed to make ivy wreaths by stitching ivy leaves on strips of green cloth,
which we hung from the fireplace, through the balusters, and along the
handrails of the staircases. I also helped the joyful sisters drape the
chandeliers with greenery, pinecones, and walnuts. Eyre Hall had never looked
so merry! Everywhere you looked, there was greenery and dried fruits and nuts.
We even had a Christmas tree in every room for the first time! We decorated them
with cinnamon sticks tied in bundles, walnuts all wrapped in colourful bits of
cloth, and pinecones covered with bright ribbons.

Jane’s new little pet, Nell, followed us
around like a lost puppy, trying to join in the fun, but Phoebe and Clarissa
kept sending her off to the kitchen, saying she was a ‘tedious little elf’. She
did look like an ethereal little waif, although now that Jane had bought her
some proper dresses and shoes, she looked less like a pauper and more like a
little fairy. However, she did have an exasperating way of popping up out of
the blue and asking too many questions. I was glad to be rid of her.

I was furious with Annette who was
behaving most selfishly. She was the most beautiful woman at the table, yet she
was unfriendly, and refused to give Dante a chance. The places of honour at the
table were reserved for Diana to Jane’s right, opposite her husband, Admiral
Fitzjames, and for me to Mr. Mason’s right, opposite William. Annette sat on my
right, opposite Dante. It was a magnificent occasion for them to become more
acquainted, but I noticed how Dante spent most of the evening talking to John
who had changed places with Clarissa, who had boldly insisted on sitting next
to Michael. Although Annette was seated next to Dante, she was constantly
turning away from him towards Michael who was on her other side. Actually, Michael
was continuously turning to Annette, and away from Clarissa’s shameless
flirting. 

It was pleasing to meet Jane’s
affectionate cousin, Diana, once more, although her boisterous husband, Admiral
Fitzjames, who speaks far too much and far too loudly, dominated most of the
conversation with boring talk about the navy. In fact, there were far too many tedious
naval officers at the table to talk about anything else; the lecherous–looking
Captain Carrington, who could not keep his eyes off all the ladies at the
table, but especially Annette, and Michael who had returned as a dazzling lieutenant.
Captain Carrington could not speak highly enough about his bravery, and both
Phoebe and Clarissa were smitten by his uniform and good looks.

Michael was getting all the attention at
the table, including Jane’s. I had always been wary of Michael. He was far too
clever and ambitious for his own good. England was a great nation because
everyone knew their place. He forgot his and poor Jane got into a great deal of
trouble. I hoped they had both learnt their lesson.

Jane was wearing a beautiful silk
crimson evening gown, which enhanced her stern expression, yet highlighted her
pale beauty. It worried me that Clarissa swapped places with John so that he could
sit next to Phoebe, but that meant that she sat next to Michael, and every time
she spoke to him, touched his arm, or giggled loudly, Jane flinched noticeably.
She should have had more sense than to care about him.

I was perplexed regarding her motives
for inviting Michael to lunch on Christmas Day, after the way he left Eyre Hall.
It was obvious, to me at least, that she was still smitten by him. Apparently,
the admiral had recommended him to the captain, and somehow they had all been
invited to Eyre Hall for Christmas. I was pleased to hear that he would be returning
to sea for six months very soon.

Richard and William were drinking far
too much, but they were enjoying themselves conversing about the beauty of
Venice, the nightlife in Paris, William’s town house in London, and Richard’s
plantation in Jamaica. I joined in their conversation occasionally, but they
mostly ignored my comments, until I mentioned that John would be going to York
the following day, and William said he had never been there.

“Adele has told me you will be visiting
York tomorrow, John.”

“Yes, I will visit the archbishop at the
Minster.”

“You are acquainted with the Archbishop
of York?” William sounded impressed. “I have heard he is a very outspoken and
intelligent man.”

“He is indeed. Archbishop Templar was my
tutor first and then my headmaster at Rugby. I see him as often as I can. He
was a good friend of my father’s.”

“I should very much like to visit York
Minster, and the ancient and noble city of York!” cried Mrs. Carrington.

“If a group of you would like to come, I
should be happy to show you around and introduce you to the archbishop,” said
John.

So, that was how the trip was settled.
We were to set out in the morning, Captain and Mrs. Carrington with Diana and
the admiral would travel together, while William and I would travel with John.
We were all excited to stay at the archbishop’s official residence,
Bishopthorpe Palace, for three nights to give us a chance to visit the town and
environs. Phoebe and Clarissa, seeing no point in visiting ‘a big old church’,
of which they claimed there were plenty in London, preferred to visit Lord
Ingram before going on to the Jackson’s, our wealthy new American neighbours on
the estate, who were holding a New Year’s Eve party we were all attending.

Richard was leaving for London claiming
he had urgent business to deal with. Michael said he had family matters to discuss
with his sister, Susan, my maid, and Annette and Dante decided to stay at Eyre
Hall, too, which was good news. They would be spending time alone, to get to
know each other better. Jane, of course, refused to accompany us; she rarely
left Eyre Hall, unless there were urgent matters to attend. 

  After dinner, Phoebe and Clarissa
insisted on playing blind man’s bluff in the drawing room and hanging mistletoe
balls in the centre of the room and the doorway. We all played, except Jane and
Mrs. Carrington. Jane turned away from the bustle to the furious hearth as a
brazen Clarissa, who insisted that everyone kissed at Christmas parties in
London, pushed Michael under some mistletoe. She made sure she was kissed and
caught by all the young men, and then organised a game of hide–and–seek, at
which time William complained of tiredness, and I of a headache, so we both
retired, reminding Dante that he should speak to Annette regarding his
intentions.   

***