Darkwood (6 page)

As we left, Caroline said that she would deliver both gowns to Darkwood in ten days time, bringing her senior seamstress in case there were any alteration needed on Isabel’s gown.

I felt the whole morning had been a success and on the way back to Darkwood could think of no-one but Gareth. On our arrival back at Dark-wood as if in answer to my thoughts as we stepped into the hall, I could see Gareth was waiting for us, lounging lazily at ease in one of the armchairs. At the sight of us he stood up and walked towards me.

‘Silvia, I wish to speak with you alone.’ As he spoke I looked around at my mother and aunt but they showed no opposition to this, so Gareth continued. ‘In view of your dislike of blue walls, I suggest to talk in my mother’s morning room.’ As he spoke he made for me to follow him which I did like a lamb, my only wish was that I’d had a chance to refresh myself, but Gareth was, I realised, one who would catch the moment.

As I entered the morning-room for the second time in one day, I thought how restful this room was and that Gareth had chosen well.

‘Please remove your bonnet, Silvia,’ Gareth said quietly. I did as I was bid and laid it on a table by the door. ‘Now please sit in the chair by the mantel.’ He indicated a small green armchair between the window and the fireplace. I sat decorously on the edge of my chair, smoothing the skirt of my green dress around me and wondering what this was all about. Gareth knelt on one knee before me and opened a red velvet box which contained a ruby and diamond ring.

The light from the window caught the stones and as I looked at them with some fascination and awe they sparkled back at me, the sight of it held my attention for some moments and then I looked at Gareth’s handsome face as he spoke, ‘Will you marry me, Silvia?’ His words were so unexpected I was speechless. ‘I’m asking you to be my wife,’ he continued.

‘Yes Gareth, I will marry you.’ My heart sang, and for my part at least my words were sincere. As he took my left hand and gently placed the ring on my finger, I knew I was falling in love with this handsome unpredictable man who was to be my husband, and I fervently wished with all my being that one day he could feel the same.

As he stood up I could see a satisfied look on his face as he smiled down at me. ‘You can stand up now, Silvia,’ and taking my hand he pulled me to my feet. ‘I think a kiss would be appropriate to seal our betrothal.’ Without warning he drew me to him and bending towards me our lips met briefly for the first time.

His mouth was gentle on mine and I savoured the brief moment feeling quite bereft when he released me, his eyes sparkled as he looked down at me and I was sure something unspoken hovered on his lips.

‘We have lingered long enough, Silvia.’ The moment was gone and his voice brought me back to the present, as he gently lifted my left hand, looking at the ring he’d only moments ago placed on my finger. ‘Wear it well, lovely lady, for it is the Hunter betrothal ring and not given lightly.’

‘I will treasure it I promise, and to say I am honoured does not do my feelings justice.’ Thankfully I had at last found my tongue and as I spoke I wondered how my cousin would feel if he knew the extent of my feelings for him. But I realised that for the moment at least words I longed to say to him would need to be held in abeyance.

As we left the room and we made our way together to the hall, I glanced back at the green chair by the fireplace and thought it would forever be one of my favourite places.

The ruby ring burned delightfully into my hand. As we reached the bottom of the staircase the front door burst open and Estelle stood there dressed in an emerald green riding habit. She looked at us and striding towards us tapping her riding crop against her skirt, I was mesmerised by the wild look in her green eyes and the pure hatred etched on her beautiful face.

Without a word of warning she lashed out with her riding crop intent on lashing at my face, but Gareth caught it in one hand saving me from injury.

‘What are you doing, Estelle?’ he said as he removed the crop from her grasp.

I noticed blood on his hand where the whip had cut into his palm.

‘I find out today, that she!’ Estelle screamed pointing a finger in my direction, ‘She has asked someone else to be her bridesmaid!’ As I looked at the wildness in her eyes I thought she was either jealous to the point of distraction or unstable.

As I climbed up the stairs to my room, leaving Gareth to calm her I also thought that the whole unpleasant incident had completely spoiled what had been the most beautiful morning of my life.

7

I closed my bedroom door behind me and leaned against it, many thoughts tumbling through my head. Since I’d arrived at Darkwood, so many things had happened in a short space of time.

I couldn’t find Lizzie’s final resting place which irked me somewhat. Nor could I imagine who could have so wilfully damaged my dear grandmother’s portrait and I felt helpless as I had no way of finding out. My only hope was that Aunt Rachel would eventually throw some light on the mystery which beset me, and why did Aunt Rachel forbid Gareth and Jared to associate with Estelle?

This was in itself another mystery which led me to think of the lovely Estelle’s outburst in the hall, and I pondered over what the outcome would have been if Gareth had not been there to save me. Then the thought of Gareth brought to mind his proposal. Why had he done it? I chose to think he now wished to marry me, but in truth I was sure it was just a gallant gesture on his part to help me feel better about our forthcoming union, and if this was the reason then he was at least a gentleman.

The thought consoled me somewhat and I walked over to Lizzie’s writing desk. Just as I reached it, the door opened and Aunt Rachel stepped in, accompanied by Douglas.

‘I brought Douglas up to see if he could open the desk.’ As my aunt spoke I could see that Douglas had a small flat metal lever in his hand. While he gently manoeuvred it in the lock, Aunt Rachel and I looked on.

What must she be thinking I wondered, and was somewhat surprised it hadn’t been tried before. For my part I was just anxious to see what my grandmother’s desk held. After a couple of minutes, the front of the bureau fell down with a sudden jolt and the interior was at last revealed.

‘You won’t be able to shut it properly, Miss,’ Douglas said to my aunt. ‘A new lock would be the answer. I’ll set to finding one right now.’ With these words he left us. Both of us just stood and looked, neither of us willing to be the first to touch anything. At that moment Aunt Rachel made a decision.

‘I’m going to leave you, Silvia, to look through the contents and I trust that if there is anything at all of importance you will bring it to me.’

‘But of course, Aunt Rachel, I promise.’ As I spoke I reached out with my left hand to pick up a sheet of cream coloured paper which lay on its own outside the tiny compartments and pigeonholes of the desk. As I looked down I saw the ruby ring flash in the light from the window. I looked at my aunt and could see by the look on her face that she was aware of it also.

‘Why, Silvia, you are wearing the betrothal ring. Did Gareth give this to you?’ Her voice held surprise.

‘Yes, Aunt, he did,’ I replied almost sheepishly. ‘Only a short time ago in the morning room.’

‘To say I am delighted is the truth,’ my aunt said in a quiet voice. ‘For Gareth had thought to present you with it on your wedding day. Does this mean...’ Her voice trailed off, and I knew the reply I could give her was not the one she hoped for.

‘It really doesn’t mean anything, Aunt.’ As I spoke the expression on her face changed to one of disappointment. ‘But I can tell you, for my part at least, I am warming to your son. The very fact that he has given me this lovely token of our forthcoming marriage shows that he is no longer so adverse to it, don’t you think?’ I could see the words pleased her as my aunt smiled.

‘Indeed, it would seem to be so and I am delighted, for you are a lovely gentle young woman. My wish is that given time, you and Gareth will be blissfully happy together. Now I must leave you and I will see you at dinner unless you have anything to show me.’ So saying she kissed my cheek before leaving me to look through the desk.

In truth there appeared to be little of significance in it. I held the piece of paper in the light that fell from the window and three-quarters of the way down could make out the name, Lizzie, where the indentation of a pen on the previous sheet had left an imprint, but I could make out little else. I picked up the pen which was tucked in one of the compartments, the nib of which was stained with dry blue ink. As I held it in my left hand, for I was left-handed as Lizzie had been, I imagined her holding it and writing a letter as the sun fell on her smooth skin.

Maybe she’d written to some relative in Ireland whom she perhaps never saw again, or had she written invitations for people to dine at Darkwood? Whatever she had done, I wished so much that she were here with me now. I laid the pen back in its rightful place, not wishing to change a thing. Other small cubicles just held paper and envelopes.

On the left at the back was a small drawer with a tiny wooden handle. I gently pulled it open. Inside lay a neatly folded sheet of the cream coloured paper. As I slowly unfolded it, the creases had left their mark across the words written on it, but I could make out that it was a poem. Taking it to the light, I read,

I see the bluebells softly lie,

A carpet of blue to walk upon and feel,

The beauty of this wood is real.

In April only do they flower,

But through the year, my mind’s picture could,

Capture the tranquil peace of the bluebell wood.

I looked at it for some moments, tears pricking at my eyes, for the words revealed Lizzie’s love of the wood at bluebell time. I had to see it now for myself, but must first take this poem to show Aunt Rachel.

Swiftly I took my cream shawl out of the wardrobe drawer and hastily laid it around my shoulders, my feet spurred on by Lizzie’s poignant words. As I hurried down the hallway in search of Aunt Rachel, I could see some activity in the opposite corridor which distracted me, causing me to walk into Pru who dropped the linen she carried.

‘Oh, Miss Silvia, now look what you’ve made me do,’ Pru complained. ‘Wherever are you off to in such a hurry?’ As she spoke, she bent down and gathered up the articles she’d been carrying.

‘Pru, I am so sorry,’ I said with true contrition. ‘I’m in search of my aunt.’

‘She can be found with your mother in the drawing-room, taking tea,’ said Pru breathlessly as she stood up, the said articles over one arm, albeit not so neatly.

‘Thank you, Pru,’ I called as I made my way down the stairs. Crossing the hall, I thought briefly of the unpleasant incident with Estelle. Could it really have been only a couple of hours since? As I entered the drawing-room, I could see Mother and my aunt sipping tea and partaking of tasty looking splits with jam and clotted cream which made me realise how hungry I was, not having eaten since breakfast.

‘Why, Silvia!’ Aunt Rachel exclaimed, ‘I had not expected to see you so soon. Sit and join us.’ I did as she bid, not needing much coaxing, and immediately started to spoon jam and cream on to the split in my hand while Aunt Rachel rang the bell for another cup and saucer which Dotty brought within minutes.

‘It’s good to see you back downstairs, Mother,’ I remarked as this morning I’d not had much time to speak to her. Was it really only this morning that we’d visited the dressmaker’s and I’d tried on my wedding gown?

‘So what has brought you so quickly to find us? For I can see you are flushed with excitement from some discovery,’

Mother asked in a booming voice. I reached into the side pocket of my dress, retrieving the piece of paper I’d found with their mother’s verse on it.

‘I found this,’ I said triumphantly. ‘It is beautiful.’

Mother took it from me and read it, then silently handed it to Aunt Rachel. Watching them both intently, I could see that Lizzie’s words had more effect on my aunt. Her eyes glistened with unshed tears as she looked at it and I felt a greater affinity to her than I ever had with my mother who had always been a selfish person, whereas Aunt Rachel was kind and gentle and always thinking of others.

‘It is quite lovely, Silvia. I must confess I had not known that my mother had written it,’ said my aunt. ‘But I knew your grandmother loved the time of year when the bluebells flowered. She would walk to the wood after luncheon every day when they were out. Here, Silvia, keep it.’ As she spoke, Aunt Rachel pressed the piece of paper back into my hand and I placed it back into my pocket.

‘Are the bluebells out now?’ I asked for I had a great desire to see this bluebell wood.

‘Yes, they should be, dear, although I have to admit I have not been in the wood recently,’ answered my aunt, picking up her cup and saucer once more. She was obviously trying to take her mind off her recent emotion.

‘Then is it all right for me to walk down there alone?’ I ventured, getting to my feet.

‘Good Lord, child, of course it is. You are old enough to know now that there are no goblins to frighten you,’ Mother answered quite harshly I thought, as Aunt Rachel smiled at me. I needed no further encouragement.

As I stepped outside the front door, I stood for some moments savouring the warmth of the sun on my face. It was truly a glorious day with not a cloud in the sky. I tried to imagine which way my grandmother would have walked to the wood. Some instinct told me to stick to the path close to the house, so this is the route I took.

The path was in shade, and out of the sun it felt quite cool. As I reached the end of the house, the sun’s rays warmed me once more as I continued walking towards the small bridge. There was a lightness in my step as I reached the curve of the bridge and I stopped for some minutes to look down at the River Dart gurgling merrily over large stones and small pebbles.

The sun felt hot on my back, so I moved on and after a few paces stepped off the bridge on to the grass which felt pleasantly springy under my feet. I turned to look back at Darkwood.

The upper windows sparkled in the afternoon sun and my thought was how different it looked from the March day we arrived here just two-and-a-half weeks ago.

I felt quite drawn to the house now I was older, probably because my grand-father, Samuel no longer ruled it. I shuddered at the thought of him and walked quickly on towards the wood. As I reached the edge of it, my breath was quite taken away and I stopped in my tracks at the beautiful sight which lay before me.

Bluebells grew in abundance, covering the ground with a breathtaking blue carpet for as far as the eye could see, and I understood completely Lizzie’s love for this glorious sight. A narrow path formed itself between the flowers and I started to follow it, looking around me. It was cold as the sun didn’t quite penetrate through the stunted grey oak trees. They looked almost dead, with long, thick grey branches extending like huge creepers, some tangling together and I suddenly felt afraid.

Feeling sure I was being followed for I heard a twig snap behind me on the path, I turned around to see Jared walking towards me. At the sight of him my heart sank. Looking around I could see no way of escape but to trample over the bluebells.

‘Jared,’ I exclaimed sweetly, ‘Is this coincidence or are you following me?’

‘The latter would be more correct,’ he said in a quiet, controlled voice. ‘I observed you from a window and thought to see what you were about.’

‘I just wish to see the wood, and especially the carpet of bluebells,’ I replied meekly, looking at his immaculate dark blue jacket and matching waistcoat and a crisp white shirt. His hair was tousled by the slight, cool breeze and his pale blue eyes were cold and calculating as he weighed up the situation which was, I realised with some dismay, that we were alone, some way from the house. I didn’t trust this cousin, recalling the day when he had almost dragged me to the master bedroom against my will. I found myself in an unenviable position.

‘As a child you refused to come here.’ As he spoke, Jared moved towards me and I took a step back, not wishing to be any closer to him. ‘You are surely not afraid of me, cousin?’ He laughed and moved swiftly nearer to me, catching my wrist in his cold grasp.

As I tried to free myself, the shawl I wore fell to the ground and I realised I was treading on the bluebells. I could hear them squelch under my feet. Jared was backing me against a snarled grey tree trunk. I felt the bark almost pierce into my back as he pushed his body up against me.

I screamed, knowing it was to no avail as he clamped his free hand across my mouth. My heart was pounding and although cold, I could feel the sweat on my brow.

‘Just one kiss, cousin, and you will be mine.’ His voice was quietly menacing as he spoke and his eyes looked directly into mine, so I closed them tightly as I did not wish to look at his leering face.

‘What are you doing, brother?’ Gareth’s angry voice was music to my ears. A relieved sob escaped my lips as I opened my eyes in time to see Gareth bring his hand up sharply across Jared’s face. Now go home!’ my gallant knight said between clenched teeth. ‘And never again touch or go near my betrothed or I will not be responsible for my actions. Believe me, brother, you have escaped lightly.’ Jared looked at us both then retreated back towards Darkwood.

Gareth turned to me and with one strong arm pulled me towards him. My head on his shoulder, small sobs escaped me, more with relief than anything as Gareth’s hand smoothed my hair gently. Calming down, I lifted my head and looked at him.

‘I can’t thank you enough,’ I said quietly, lifting my hand to touch his cheek. ‘I dread to think of my fate had you not chanced to walk this way.’

‘It was no chance, I assure you,’ he explained. ‘I watched you walk and linger on the bridge. As you stepped into the wood, I spied Jared following you and knew from past experience his intentions would not be honourable.’