The Lost Ancestor (17 page)

After
the extended breakfast was over, Mrs Cuff led the majority of the female staff
to the bedroom suites.  She divided the girls into small groups,
instructing them on what they were to pack.  Mary was paired with Eliza
and, under the guidance of Miss Herriot, given the exciting task of packing
Lady Philadelphia’s outdoor wear.

‘The winter coats!’ Mary said, excitedly
grabbing Eliza’s arm as they headed towards Lady Philadelphia’s bedroom.

‘All those furs!’ Eliza responded with a
grin.  ‘Come on, let’s get to it.’

As the girls reached the doorway to Philadelphia’s
bedroom, they stopped still as if held back by an invisible barrier.  Lady
Philadelphia was in her room, bending down with her back to them. She turned
and smiled.  ‘Come in, girls.’

The girls stepped into the room and stood
awkwardly by the bed.  Neither of them had expected her to actually be
there.

‘Right, the trunk is down here. 
We’re a little short on space, so I must be prudent in what I take.  At
least, that’s what my dear husband tells me,’ she said with a pleasant
smile.  She was midway through neatly folding a pair of elbow-length silk
gloves. 

Mary reciprocated with a smile of her own
and, for the first time since she had started at Blackfriars, fully took her
in.  Her experiences of Lady Philadelphia were always fleeting or from a distance. 
The two of them had, mainly by virtue of their opposing standings in the house,
never actually spoken to one another.  To her surprise, Mary found herself
quite in awe of Lady Philadelphia’s magnanimous beauty.

‘Between the three of us, however, I’ve
had one of the footmen fetch me another case, which my dear husband will be
none the wiser about,’ Lady Philadelphia said.  ‘I think it might be best
if I hunt through my wardrobes and see what I think I’ll need, then give it to
you girls to pack for me.  How does that sound?’

Mary and Eliza mumbled their agreement and
stood waiting with anticipation for the first garment.

Lady Philadelphia returned carrying a
bundle of attractive clothing.  ‘I think most of these will have had their
last after Scotland,’ she said, passing an ermine fur-lined cloak to
Mary. 

 ‘What’s wrong with them, my lady?’
Mary asked quietly, running her fingers through the fine black and white
fur.  She was quite sure that she had never seen nor touched anything so
perfect.

‘They’re very outdated,’ Lady Philadelphia
said.  ‘I’m sure they’ll do for those wretched days out watching the men
hunting for deer on the Scottish glens, but they’ll not do anywhere of
note.’  She lowered her voice.  ‘It’s more like something Lady
Rothborne would wear.’

Mary smiled, delighting in the sense of
their shared camaraderie.  Maybe she hadn’t been silly and immature to
believe that she, Mary Mercer could enjoy some of the trappings of high social
standing after all.

‘These are
much
more the fashion,’ Lady
Philadelphia said, handing Eliza a full-length coat.  ‘It’s an oriental
cocoon.  Beautifully made—so elegant, don’t you think?’

The girls nodded their agreement and Eliza
carefully began to fold it into the trunk.

‘Do you think if you stroke it long enough
the poor stoat might come back to life?’ Lady Philadelphia asked Mary with a
laugh.

Mary flushed.  She was mid-way
through one of her daydreams where she and Lady Philadelphia were attending a
grand ball together in London.  ‘Sorry, my lady.  I’m in my own world
again.  I’m always getting into trouble because of it.  It was the
same at school.’  Mary set the garment down on the bed and gently folded
it, just the way she had been shown by Clara.

‘What a magnificent thing,’ a booming
voice called from the doorway.  It was Lady Rothborne.  She stepped
inside the room and picked up the ermine cloak from the bed.  ‘Simply
resplendent.’

Mary and Eliza backed away deferentially,
allowing Lady Rothborne to sweep into the room.

‘What do you think, Mary?’ Lady Rothborne
asked.

Mary was taken aback to be included in the
conversation
and
to be called by her Christian name.  ‘I…I…think
it’s one of the nicest cloaks I’ve ever seen.’

‘Quite.’

Lady Philadelphia smiled.  ‘I hear
you won’t be joining us at Boughton House?’

Lady Rothborne shook her head.  ‘Not
this time.  I’m a little
over
-
excited
, shall we say, by the
recent comings and goings of our charming visitor; a few days alone is just
what I need.  I’ve seen a good forty seasons of deer-hunting—plenty for
someone of my age.’

Lady Philadelphia smiled.  ‘I’ve got
plenty more to do yet, then.’

‘Indeed.  I shan’t keep you,’ Lady
Rothborne said before gliding from the room.

The girls continued to pack Lady
Philadelphia’s outdoor clothes until the designated trunks were filled to
capacity.  Mary wanted to quip that if she went away for ten days to
Scotland she would have precisely one winter coat to pack, but wasn’t yet sure
of her standing, despite the overt friendliness being shown to her.  Then
the lunchtime bell sounded and Mary and Eliza were thanked for their help and
allowed to go on their way.

‘Home time for you, then, Mary,’ Eliza
said.

‘Oh yes, in all the fun of packing I’d
forgotten.’

Mary
closed the kitchen door to Blackfriars and began to walk up the back path
towards home.  It was a warm day with a gentle breeze and Mary enjoyed
having her hair flowing freely across her shoulders, rather than pinned
awkwardly under her hat.  She crossed the courtyard to the back path and
began the short walk home.  She took slow, deliberate steps, not wishing
to arrive home too soon.  As she passed the orchard, her mind was fretting
over what or whom she would find when she got there and she failed to see the
movement among the blossoming apple trees.

‘Mary!’ called the voice.

She recognised it instantly and turned to
see Edward grinning at her from the abbey ruins.  She smiled and rushed
towards him.  ‘I wasn’t expecting to see you!’  She ran into his open
arms and squeezed him tightly.

‘I could tell from the grumpy look on your
face!  You didn’t even check I was here,’ Edward said, with a hint of
dejection.

‘Sorry.  I was worrying about
things—home, not seeing you for ten days—stuff like that,’ Mary said, releasing
herself from him before kissing him on the lips.  ‘But you’re here!’

‘Of course.  I couldn’t not see my
fiancée before I go on my annual hunting holiday!’

Mary rolled her eyes.  ‘It’s alright
for the chosen ones.  I’m going to be stuck here catching up on all the
unwanted, rubbish jobs that get stored up across the year.’

Edward hugged her again.  ‘At least
it’ll be quiet and Mr Mansfield will be gone.  Come on, let’s go and sit
down for a minute.’  Edward took Mary by the hand and led her to the piece
of sandstone which had become their usual seat.  On their last visit here,
Mary had finished carving into it their initials. 
EM and MM. 
She
sat and stared at the shallow engraving, already missing Edward in her
mind.  She had already made up her mind to come here next Wednesday on her
half-day off and just sit quietly, pretending he was with her.

‘Are you okay, Mary?’ Edward asked.

Mary shrugged, suddenly and inexplicably
unable to speak.  A wave of emotion had poured over here and a tear ran
down her cheek.

‘Hey, what’s the matter?’ Edward said,
tenderly running his forefinger up her cheek to her moistening eye.

‘I don’t want you to go,’ Mary said in a
croaking voice.

Edward laughed.  ‘I don’t want to go
either, but it’s only ten days and then I’ll be back.  Come on, this isn’t
like the Mary Mercer I know and love.  Where’s your fiery, wild side
gone?’

Mary managed a short smile.  Where
had
her fiery, wild side gone?  Had three months of hard labour as a third
housemaid
really
been enough to bash it out of her? 
No, it
can’t have been.
  She just wasn’t coping very well with Edward’s
imminent departure and the uncertainty of her home life.  Her feelings for
him had come and grown so quickly that it had turned everything she had known
upside down.  She was sure that was all it was.

The pair sat in a comfortable silence for
some minutes, before each of them needed to go.

‘I’d better get back to my duties before
I’m missed.  They’ll be loading the carriages any minute,’ Edward said
quietly.

‘And I’d better get home before Caroline
comes storming down here after my money.’

Mary stood and faced Edward.  She
didn’t know how to say goodbye.  She could see in Edward’s sad face that
he was feeling the same.

‘Ten days—it’s nothing at all,’ he finally
said, in as cheery voice as he could muster. 

Mary could tell that he wasn’t feeling it,
though she still smiled.  ‘Yeah, it’s not long.’

‘Goodbye,’ Edward said, leaning in to kiss
her.

She allowed herself to be lost in the
tenderness of his embrace, to momentarily forget that he was going.

Edward broke away.  ‘I love you, Mary
Mercer.’

‘I love you, too, Edward Mercer.’

She pecked him one last time on the lips,
then led out of the ruins through the orchard onto the path.  With a final
smile, she turned in one direction, and he in the other.

Mary continued up the hill towards her
house.  When she next took a glance round, Edward had gone.  She
mentally took a hold of herself, took in a deep breath and went home.

It
was Caroline who opened the door.  But for a veiled headdress, she was
still wearing full mourning garments.  Mary had hoped that by now she
might have returned to Bristol, but knew deep inside that Caroline would remain
running the household until their mother returned. 

‘I was wondering where you’d got to,’
Caroline said.

Mary was unsure how, but as each week
passed, Caroline appeared more haggard and her vitality more faded than the
previous time she had seen her.  Today was no exception.  As Mary
stepped through the door she noticed that Caroline’s eyes were darker and more
sunken and her hair matted and lank.

Caroline slammed the door shut, pushed
past Mary and headed into the kitchen.  ‘Your sister’s upstairs,’ Caroline
said.

The news that Edie was back home took Mary
by surprise and made her stomach lurch.  She wasn’t sure she was in the
frame of mind to cope with the compounded concoction of Caroline’s evilness and
Edie’s bitterness.  Worse still, she heard an unwelcoming guttural cough
coming from the front room: her father was up and out of bed, his melancholia
evidently having passed. 
Could this day get any worse?
Mary
wondered. 
I’ll drop the money off and run,
she thought. 
Heading into the kitchen, Mary found Caroline aggressively kneading dough at
the kitchen table.  Her hair was flailing all around her and she wore a menacing
frown.

‘Quite how I’m supposed to make bread with
so little flour, is anyone’s guess.  Maybe if you’d got here sooner, I
could have gone to the shop to get some more,’ Caroline said without looking
up.

‘I’ll go now if you like,’ Mary said,
quickly latching on to a reason to get out of the house.

Caroline grunted.  ‘No, thank
you.  I wouldn’t be able to trust you to buy the right thing.  Just
put the money down there.’

Mary obeyed and emptied her wages onto the
table, then turned to leave the room.  She made her way down the hallway,
destined for the front door.  She had done what she came to do, now she
could just leave.  But, as she neared the front room door, she couldn’t
quite resist at least saying hello to her father.  She hadn’t actually
seen him for weeks now.  Cautiously and slowly, Mary pushed open the front
room door.  What she saw shocked her and made her gasp.  A frail old
man, shrivelled in his chair sat before her.  Like Caroline, life had
suddenly aged him.  Mary knew little about melancholia, had no idea that
it could do
this
to a person.  The man sitting here, staring at the
floor, looked old enough to be her grandfather.

‘Hello,’ she said quietly.  When
there was no response, she repeated herself, only louder.  ‘Hello!’ 

He blinked at the sound and his head
twitched slightly, but he made no attempt to look at her or reply.

A laugh came from the kitchen. 
‘You’ll be lucky, Mary!’ Caroline called.

This house is falling apart around my
ears!  I can’t stand it! 
Mary
was on the verge of screaming something aloud then dashing dramatically from
the house, when she heard her twin sister’s voice.

‘Mary?  Is that you?’ Edie called
from upstairs.  ‘Come up.’

Although Mary was glad to leave the front
room, she was reluctant to see Edie.  She couldn’t take much more of this
house.  She stood by the front door and placed her hand on the
latch.  Something, possibly the extra special connection she had with
Edie, stopped her from running from the madness which had descended here. 
Instead, she turned and made her way to her former bedroom.  As she
reached the top of the stairs, Mary wondered what the past weeks had done to
Edie.  Had she too aged beyond all recognition?  Was she still being
eaten alive with jealousy of Mary’s role at Blackfriars?
 
For the
first time in her life, Mary was nervous about seeing her own twin
sister. 
How has it come to this?
  She rebuked herself and
stepped in their shared bedroom.