Matters of the Heart (9 page)

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Authors: Rosemary Smith

BOOK: Matters of the Heart
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The whole evening was a strain. How I got through it without screaming out that I knew the truth I don’t know, but little did I know that the whole truth was to be revealed next day when the secret of Pendenna would well and truly be out in the open.

 

11

 

Robert was seated at the table when I entered the dining-room next morning, quite an unusual occurrence as he normally took breakfast early and then went riding out on the estate visiting tenant farmers. He looked up as I walked in and I prayed he wouldn’t mention the proposal of marriage today for I had other things on my mind, but I needn’t have worried for he, too, had more immediate matters to attend to.

‘Good morning, Janie. I hope you slept well.’

As I helped myself to bacon and scrambled eggs and poured myself some coffee, I thought briefly of the night I had just spent tossing and turning, my mind full of the events of the past few weeks, but I wasn’t going to admit this to Robert.

‘I slept well, thank you,’ I lied admirably as I seated myself opposite him and sipped the strong hot coffee with some relish for I thought it may go toward making me feel more alert.

‘So, you are ready to face our exploration of the nursery?’ He paused. ‘Or maybe you have changed your mind.’

‘Not at all. I am looking forward to it as I haven’t yet visited this room.’

‘Are you not a little afraid of what you may find?’

Robert smiled at me, such an engaging smile I could not help but answer truthfully.

‘With you, I would not feel afraid anywhere.’

It was the truth but as soon as I had uttered the words, I regretted it for fear he might misconstrue them and conclude the truth that I was jelly in his hands. Robert didn’t answer but neither did he mock me. Instead he placed a strong hand over mine, the look in his deep brown eyes warm and sincere. In that moment I knew we forged an unspoken understanding between us.

‘Have you told my grandmother of our plan to visit the nursery?’ I asked.

‘No, I would not want to worry her. In any event, we may not locate the priest’s hole. I have looked at many books and found no mention of it.’

‘My mother mentions it,’ I offered, ‘in her diary.’

He sat looking at me for seconds which in truth seemed like minutes.

‘Does she say in this diary where it can be found?’

‘No, only that she and Laura discovered it when they were younger.’

‘So, you only have Nora Blackstone’s word that it is in the nursery, which makes sense. It is a place no-one would think to look.’

Robert sat back in his chair and I knew he was anxious to start our search.

‘No matter, Janie, we will go ahead as planned although we have little to go on. More coffee?’

‘No, I am refreshed, thank you.’

So saying we both left the room. As we made our way through the hall and up the staircase I saw everything in a different light. With Robert at my side, things did not seem so dark and although the eyes of my ancestors followed our progress, even the portraits took on a new meaning and I realised till now I’d never taken the time to look at them with much interest. At the top of the stairs was a large portrait of a young woman and I realised it could be my grandmother.

I lingered to look a little more closely but Robert was going on ahead so I quickly caught up with him. We passed the schoolroom. I then caught the strong scent of lavender as we passed Nora Blackstone’s room, consequently my thoughts were of her as we opened the door of the nursery. We stepped inside and, looking around, I gasped in surprise. Everything looked as if the room was still lived in. The two beds on opposite walls to each other were made up and covered in pink bedspreads. On one bed was a china doll similar to the one I had found in the schoolroom but not so well cared for and I assumed it to be Laura’s.

The floor was of wood and highly-polished and in the centre, a large pink and white rug lay as if new. I recalled Nora Blackstone’s words that the nursery was in readiness. I thought with some hint of pity that she must have tended this room for twenty years and my heart went out to her when I thought of how her Felicity would never come back nor sleep again in one of these beds. In one corner beneath the window was a large wooden dolls’ house, the small figures and furniture still placed where my mother may herself have placed them all those years ago when she was young and carefree. Then I thought of Aunt Laura. At some time in her childhood she must have been gay and happy, too, and I set to wondering again what had changed her to the unhappy, uncivil, discourteous person she had become.

While I kneeled on the floor to look closer at the dolls’ house Robert was tapping the light wood panelling with which the walls were covered. Would he find the secret chamber where Roman Catholic priests hid in the seventeenth century? Half of me hoped our search would be fruitless in view of the governess’s words and I felt a little afraid until I looked at Robert’s tall, dependable figure and knew he would take care of me.

I joined him at some panelling on the outer wall by the high window. He was obviously interested in one particular partition.

‘See, Janie, the outer wall is five foot thick here, or thereabouts. Tap this panelling here.’

I did as I was bid.

Now tap this panelling on the other side of the window.’

I moved across and indeed it made a different sound.

‘Would you not agree the sound is somewhat more hollow on the right than on the left? And look, here the seam is thicker.’

I could sense the excitement in Robert’s voice. It was as he said and I started to tremble involuntarily as I wondered what we might find. Robert carried on tapping and deduced the panelling sounded different to a height of five feet.

‘But if this is it, how does one open it?’

I could tell frustration was creeping into his voice and manner.

‘There must be a catch somewhere, but where?’

‘What of the window recess?’ I suggested, more out of desperation to please him than anything else.

‘The window, yes, Janie, the window. Why didn’t I think of it?’

He set to feeling the stone recess carefully. A cry escaped him.

‘I think I’ve found it. Please, get me that stool Janie.’

I dragged the heavy, wooden stool over to him and he stood on it better able to see what he had discovered. Anxiously I watched him and waited.

‘This is very rusty and will not give easily, but before I try to pull it I wonder which way the panelling will go. It won’t slide, but swing, I think.’

He got down off the stool, pushing it to one side.

‘Are you ready, my love?’

I murmured my agreement as he pulled and pushed the metal lever which I could now see was hidden in a crevice in the wall. After what seemed an eternity, there was a creaking sound and we could see the panelling swinging back slowly and we both stood together in front of it, watching it with disbelief. The hidden room which was revealed was small with only space for a man to sit. In the stone behind was a small slit which provided air. I heard the piercing scream before I realised it was I who screamed. Slumped against the wall was a skeleton! The clothes, although deteriorated, hung loosely on the frame and a man’s pocket watch dazzled my horrified eyes as the light from the window opposite danced on the gold casing.

Robert pulled me to him and I laid my head on his shoulder, the comfort of his arms around me. All too soon he turned my face up to his, away from the horror.

‘Come away, Janie, come away. We will have to inform the authorities.’

He gently coaxed me from where I felt transfixed.

‘But who is he, Robert?’ I managed to ask quietly, my sluggish mind suddenly springing back into action.

‘I have a good idea, a very good idea,’ he said quietly.

As he led me to the door, we both stopped in our tracks. Nora Blackstone stood in the doorway.

‘So you’ve found him then? I saw her coax him in, you know, and shut the door on him. She’s evil, that one.’

So saying, she ran from the room. Robert and I followed, his arm gently around me.

In a daze, I was led to the drawing-room. I was trembling from head to foot. Robert thrust a glass of brandy into my hand and ordered me to drink it. I did so under his watchful gaze and then he rang the bell. Fortunately it was Mrs Dobbs who answered.

‘My, whatever is wrong, miss? You look as white as my sheets and you are quivering like one of Cook’s jellies,’ she said, aghast at how I seemed.

‘She’s had a terrible shock. I want you to stay with her while I send for the police and Jason Trehaine,’ Robert said.

‘The police, sir? My, whatever is amiss?’

‘I’ll tell you all too soon, Mrs Dobbs, but for the moment keep Miss Merriock calm.’

‘Why, yes, sir.’

By the time Robert returned, I had almost stopped shaking and felt somewhat calmer. The brandy had obviously worked. Robert ordered Mrs Dobbs to fetch my grandmother and Aunt Laura.

While we waited for them to join us, I asked Robert the question burning in my mind, as the scene we had witnessed in the nursery swam before my eyes.

‘Who do you think it was, Robert?’ There was a long silence before Robert spoke.

‘I think, my love, it is Andrew Trehaine, but that theory can only be verified when Jason Trehaine arrives.’

My hands flew to my mouth, the whole horror of it all dawning on me.

‘And when Nora Blackstone said she saw her coax him in and close the door she meant...’

I could hardly utter the next words. ‘Aunt Laura! Oh, my goodness! But why?’

‘Don’t distress yourself, dear, but it does look rather that way.’

Jason Trehaine arrived before the police and Robert took him up to the nursery. I wanted to join them but Robert wouldn’t hear of it. My grandmother and Aunt Laura joined me in the drawing-room in the meantime, but I was sworn to secrecy not to say anything. Robert wanted to tell them himself.

‘What is the matter?’ Aunt Laura complained as she sat opposite me. ‘I hate being disturbed while I’m reading in the library. What is the matter with you, Jane? You look as if you’ve seen a ghost.’

‘Maybe I have,’ I couldn’t help uttering as she looked at me with such contempt.

‘Don’t start, you two,’ Grandmother interrupted. ‘My morning nap has been disturbed but I’m not complaining, nor should you, Laura. Robert wouldn’t send for us for anything other than for a good reason.’

We sat in silence, waiting for Robert and Jason Trehaine. I still felt very confused about thinking of him as my father. My thoughts kept returning to the scene in the nursery and I realised with some sense of horror and disbelief that the poor man, whoever he was, had probably been incarcerated all my life.

When Robert and Jason entered the room we all turned to look at them, all of us in expectation, for different reasons. Jason Trehaine was looking shaken and Robert poured him a brandy, telling him to sit down. He sat in a high chair by a small, polished table, quite distant from the rest of us.

‘What is this all about, Robert, and why is Mr Trehaine here? I need to get back to my nap, not that I will get back to sleep now,’ my grandmother said, leaning back in her chair and yawning.

‘I’m sorry, Mrs Pendenna, but I have some news which will shock you.’

Robert sat next to me as he spoke, opposite Grandmother and Aunt Laura.

‘There is no easy way to say this, so I will come straight to the matter in question. Jane and I found the priest’s hole this morning, in the nursery.’

Robert’s eyes shifted from my grandmother to Aunt Laura who had suddenly sat up straight.

‘I’m afraid to have to tell you that in the priest’s hole, we found human remains. Mr Trehaine has identified a pocket watch as that of his brother, Andrew Trehaine.’

Aunt Laura stood up and went to the window, wailing. My grandmother, suddenly alert, had paled visibly but with great dignity said, ‘Thank you, Robert.’

Robert went to pour another glass of brandy which he handed to my grandmother. She sipped at it, not looking at anyone.

‘And do we know how poor Andrew came to be shut in a priest’s hole?’ she asked quietly.

‘I have an idea but would like Mrs Dobbs to fetch Nora Blackstone.’

‘You don’t think it was Miss Blackstone? Surely not.’

My grandmother found strength in her voice and she glanced around at Laura who was still stood looking out on to the terrace.

‘Laura, have you anything to say about this? Come here and talk to me.’

Aunt Laura walked slowly towards us, her face expressionless but her eyes glittered with some emotion I could not identify. When she spoke she seemed in control of herself.

‘There is no need to fetch Nora Blackstone. It was I who lured Andrew to the priest’s hole and shut the door on him for what I thought was forever.’

Her voice was rising and a sob escaped her lips. Although my grandmother must have been distraught at this revelation, she spoke quite calmly as if speaking to a child.

‘And why did you do this, Laura?’ ‘Because he was to marry me but he loved her, Felicity, my own sister.’

Laura was now losing control as she faced me.

‘She was pregnant with his child. Yes, Jane, Andrew Trehaine was your father!’

She screamed the words at me with such venom and hatred that I shrunk back in my seat.

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