Darkwood (7 page)

‘You are right in that assumption.’ As I spoke I noticed I had at last stopped trembling. Gareth went across to the path and picked up my shawl. Bringing it back, he placed it gently around my shoulders.

‘Do you feel better?’ he enquired, cupping my chin in his hand.

‘I do, except I am concerned about all the bluebells we have trampled on,’ I said as I looked around our feet.

‘Do not worry, Silvia, there are plenty more.’ As he spoke he turned around, one arm conveying the carpet of blue. I smiled as I tried desperately to secure the pins back in my hair which was already falling in disarray around my shoulders. ‘Leave it,’ Gareth said. ‘You have such beautiful hair, it is a sin to hide it.’ At his words, my cheeks flushed and I hope he hadn’t noticed my confusion.

‘Tell me, Silvia, what caused you to walk in the wood alone? I recall as a child, tales of ghosts prevented you from doing so.’ As he spoke Gareth looked down at me, a gentle look on his face.

‘It is true. When we were children I was afraid to come here, not only because of yours and Jared’s tales of ghosts and goblins, but also our grandfather forbade it.’ I stopped, thinking back to Samuel’s hold over me and I realised even more how much Jared was like him.

‘Have no fear, my love, cousin Jared will not approach you again, you have my word as a gentleman,’ he assured me.

‘I do trust this is true, and in answer to your question, I found this poem today, written by our grandmother. On reading it, I had a sudden, urgent desire to see her bluebell wood.’ As I spoke I pulled the piece of paper from my pocket, thankful that after the recent encounter with Jared it was still intact.

I handed it to Gareth who read it. After some time he spoke, ‘Poignant words from a grandmother who loved poetry as much as we do.’ He handed Lizzie’s poem back to me. ‘Let us walk.’

As we walked in a companionable silence, I realised what was missing. No birds sang here and none sat on the grey branches of the trees. I could see it was getting lighter and that we were nearly at the other side of the wood.

I stopped and looked up at his handsome face.

‘Gareth, do you know where our grandmother, Lizzie is buried? I scoured the churchyard on the day of our arrival, but could find no trace of a headstone with her name upon it.’

‘I have no idea,’ he replied softly. ‘It is as if she vanished off the face of the earth. It is as much a mystery to me as yourself. Mother will not talk of it and I have pressed her many times on the subject, for I loved my gentle grandmother.’

‘Likewise,’ I replied with some emotion at Gareth’s words. This was another thing we had in common.

‘One day soon we will walk through the graveyard together, for two pairs of eyes may be better than one.’ His words pleased me. To know he wished to spend time in my company made me realise that he was now in some way closer to me.

Suddenly I became aware of my surroundings, the moor stretched away in the distance, the scenery reminded me of the view seen from Culmoor Church. It was hard to imagine how a wood had appeared in the middle of the moor.

‘What are you thinking?’ Gareth’s words drifted across to me.

‘I am unable to understand how a wood like this came to be in the middle of Dartmoor?’

Not wishing to alarm you further, Silvia, legend has it that the devil planted the trees and gallops through here each night on the stroke of midnight. But have no fear, it is but folklore.’ As he spoke I looked back at the wood and was startled to find I recognised this end of it and I searched my mind as to why I should.

The answer came to me suddenly. It was where Samuel Hunter, our grand-father, had had his portrait painted which now hung at the top of the staircase at Darkwood.

‘Your thoughts, Silvia?’ Gareth asked.

‘This is where our grandfather had his portrait painted,’ I replied, and Gareth nodded in agreement.

‘Let us return to the house, Silvia, for the sun is falling and I don’t wish you to catch a chill.’ At Gareth’s words I pulled my shawl tighter around my shoulders and taking the arm he offered, we retraced our steps back to Darkwood.

As I snuggled my face into the pillow that night, I thought what a long eventful day it had been and certainly one of mixed fortunes. I drifted off to sleep with a picture of the bluebell wood in my mind and Gareth’s gallant acts in saving me twice that day. I recalled him calling me ‘my love’, and my last thought was that I could hardly wait to be his wife.

8

The Sunday morning following that eventful day, we were all to attend church as it was the third time our banns of marriage would be called. Gareth had attended on his own the two previous Sundays, but today there would be a family gathering including myself and with the exception of my mother, who said that she was saving her strength to walk up to the church on my wedding day.

The invitations had been sent out to a great aunt and cousin I didn’t know at Lydford and one to Estelle, who to date, had not responded. With only a handful of people it would be a quiet wedding, but none the less important.

Isabel and I felt some anticipation as our gowns would be delivered on Tuesday. We were a trifle concerned as my veil, headdress and silk boots had not yet arrived, but as Aunt Rachel had so rightly said yesterday, there were still seven days to go.

Pru helped me choose a dress for the morning’s outing to church while I stood in only a bodice and hooped petticoat. ‘What about this one, Miss Silvia?’ said Pru as she took from the wardrobe a pale mauve walking dress.

‘I think, Pru, it is admirable and I shall wear a matching cloak and bonnet.’ As I spoke I realised my arms were cold. The fire had not been lit that morning and looking out of the window I could see only grey skies.

A fleeting thought crossed my mind, that I hoped the weather would be more favourable on our wedding day. Suitably attired, I stood in the hall waiting for the others.

Uncle William appeared first looking quite fetching in a loose grey striped jacket and matching trousers. ‘Silvia, my dear, you look charming,’ he said, walking across to me and kissing my cheek. I smiled back at him. ‘You seem far more relaxed than on the day of your arrival,’ he observed.

‘You are so right, Uncle. Whereas I dreaded the whole charade, I now look forward so much to my forthcoming marriage to Gareth,’ I replied with honesty.

‘That is grand,’ he said, just as Aunt Rachel, accompanied by Gareth, entered the hall to join us. My heart leapt at the sight of my future husband. He was indeed very handsome, dressed today in a dark grey jacket and trousers with a pale mauve shirt. Pru had indeed chosen my outfit well. Aunt Rachel looked lovely in a pale grey silk dress with matching cloak and bonnet.

‘We should be gone.’ Uncle William’s voice interrupted my thoughts of Gareth and I realised I was gazing at my betrothed with adoring eyes. Thankfully he seemed not to notice. We all stepped on to the path outside the house and into the carriage. Gareth sat next to me as on the day I had first visited Caroline Peacock’s dressmaking establishment, but today I felt far more relaxed and unconcerned at his nearness.

Gareth’s hand steadied me as we walked up the path to the church gate, villagers were headed this way, too, all dressed in their Sunday best. Some of the men touched their caps in acknowledgement of us.

As we stepped into the church porch the men removed their hats. We walked down the aisle to the first pew which was obviously reserved for the Hunter family as it had been left vacant. I could see Isabel sat at the small organ on one side of the altar. Seeing her I smiled and she smiled back, her whole face lighting up as she did so.

The vicar appeared and we all stood to sing the first hymn, during which there was a commotion at the back of the church. I looked around to see Jared and Estelle walking down the aisle. On reaching the front of the church they settled in the adjacent pew. Jared glanced across at the four of us conveying a look of total defiance.

Throughout the service, Aunt Rachel who was sitting next to me kept leaning across to observe the two of them. Jared looked back at her with a cruel twist to his mouth. I perceived Aunt Rachel was longing to say something, but in view of our surroundings, was forced to keep silent. Someone else, however, we were all to learn, would not keep so silent.

The moment had arrived for the publishing of the banns before the sentences for the offertory.

The vicar stepped forward saying, ‘I publish the banns of marriage between Gareth Samuel Hunter and Silvia Eliza Harvey of Darkwood. If any of you know cause or just impediment why these two persons should not be joined in Holy Matrimony, ye are to declare it. This is the third time of asking.’

The church was silent. Gareth and I looked at each other and smiled, then a voice broke the silence.

‘I have just cause why they should not be married.’ Estelle’s measured and melodic voice echoed around the church. My heart started racing as she stepped forward from her seat to face the congregation.

George Poulter looked lost for words, but suddenly found his voice amidst the ensuing silence. He stepped forward only inches from Gareth to face the bewitching Estelle.

‘My child, can you explain your reason for this interruption?’ the vicar said with a slight quiver in his voice.

‘Indeed I can, Vicar.’ She turned to face Gareth, pointing a gloved finger in his direction, ‘This man, Gareth Samuel Hunter, is already promised to me!’

Estelle’s voice rose with each word and I recalled the evening at Darkwood when she had implored Gareth to marry her.

I felt Gareth’s body stiffen beside me. Someone in the congregation coughed loudly.

‘So what have you to say, Gareth?’

She almost screamed, her eyes staring wildly at him.

‘Madam, you know as well as I, that this is not true and never has been.’ His voice was gentler than expected under the circumstances, but I could tell Gareth was struggling to keep his self-control.

‘Come now, Miss Benedict,’ George Poulter’s voice seemed more assured now. ‘This obviously is not true, for a gentleman such as Mr Hunter would admit to it. Take your seat,’ he coaxed gently, taking her arm, but Estelle wrenched her arm away from him.

‘Take my seat, indeed! I will not, and Gareth shall never marry this woman!’

Speaking almost hysterically, she flew at Gareth without warning, intent on scratching his face, but he turned away just in time and she pounded with her fists at his chest. He gently pushed her away and she collapsed at his feet sobbing hysterically. There was no doubt she was unstable in the mind and I felt some pity for her.

It was Aunt Rachel who helped Gareth bring her to her feet and lead her out of the church, all eyes agog at the spectacle they had witnessed. Gareth took his place back beside me and gently laid his hand across mine.

The vicar gathered himself together and spoke quietly to us. ‘Gareth, I should by rights defer the wedding, but I can see the unfortunate state of mind Miss Benedict is in, so will let it pass,’ he said.

‘Thank you,’ Gareth and I uttered in one accord.

On arrival back at Darkwood I was somewhat calmer, but Gareth recommended a brandy which I partook in the drawing-room.

‘You do believe me, don’t you, Silvia?’ he asked as I sipped at the brandy.

‘I do indeed, Gareth, have no fear. Is Estelle unsound of mind?’ I questioned.

‘Yes, she is, but I can say no more now.’ Little did I know then that I would not see the lovely Estelle Benedict again.

As I stepped back into the hall I could see Mother almost running down the stairs, ‘Silvia, Silvia!’ She called my name with some excitement in her voice. ‘Silvia, where have you been and where is Aunt Rachel?’

‘Mother, calm yourself,’ I admonished. ‘Whatever’s wrong?’

‘Your parcels have arrived, Silvia, from Honiton and France. I can hardly contain myself and am longing to see your veil. Come child, they are in your room.’ So saying, she started back up the stairs with me not far behind her.

As I stopped and looked back at the hall Gareth was stood by the drawing-room door with a glass in his hand and as I caught his eye he raised the glass and smiled.

My purpose was now more assured than ever. As I stepped into my room there was a sense of great excitement.

‘I put the packages on your bed, Miss,’ said Pru, walking quickly that way.

‘Let me at least remove my bonnet and cloak,’ I said, and I did with Pru’s help.

‘Oh, come on, Silvia!’ said Mother, exasperation in her voice. ‘And where is your aunt?’

‘I am here, Hannah.’ Aunt Rachel’s voice broke in, she was obviously as full of anticipation as everyone else, and no-one would have known but her and I about the stressful moments of the past couple of hours that we’d endured.

As we all surrounded my bed I could see a long white box and two smaller pink ones. The first box obviously held my veil and I undid the lid with trembling fingers, removing the layers of tissue paper quickly to reveal my Honiton lace veil.

‘Take it out of its box, child,’ said Mother impatiently as I stood for some seconds looking at it. I did as I was bid and gently removed the full veil from its box, shaking it with care. I ran my hand over the fine white machine net, tracing with my fingers the pillow made lace motifs invisibly sewn to the foundation. It was beautiful and would complement my plain gown perfectly.

Mother, Aunt Rachel and Pru all touched it briefly with a reverent silence and awe before I laid it back in the box.

The next box contained my waxed orange blossom headdress. I took it out of the box amid cries of, ‘Try it on, Silvia’, so I placed it on my dark hair and ran over to look in the wardrobe mirror, Mother following with the veil which she draped over the headdress.

‘It complements your dark hair perfectly,’ offered Aunt Rachel, ‘You look quite lovely.’ And her voice wavered as she spoke.

‘I must remove it,’ I said, suddenly fearing I would spoil the veil before my wedding day. Mother removed the veil and Pru the headdress, placing them back in their boxes. Aunt Rachel brought the final box over as I sat in Lizzie’s armchair. How I wished she were here now, and I wondered if it was possible she was still alive, but I was sure it was just wishful thinking on my part.

‘Try these on, Silvia.’ Aunt Rachel’s voice interrupted my thoughts of Lizzie.

‘Let me remove your boots.’ As she spoke, Pru helped to remove them while I held the ivory silk half-boots in my hand. The laces were of silk also, and small eyelet holes had been fashioned for them. The small wood block heel was also covered in silk. They were exquisite and a joy to look upon, and thankfully, fitted.

The items all put away and the excitement over, Mother and Aunt Rachel left me to go down to luncheon. I declined as I felt a great tiredness had come over me. The events of the morning had taken their toll. I sank gratefully back into the armchair as Pru went to the kitchen to fetch me some lunch. After eating little, I dozed off to sleep only to be awoken by a gentle tap on my door.

‘Come in,’ I called sleepily. The door opened to reveal Gareth standing in the doorway and I, suddenly alert, thinking of the last time he had come to my room and hadn’t even had the courtesy to knock. The situation had definitely changed since then, but what to, I asked myself, love or respect. The word love had not been spoken and this is what I longed to hear.

‘I’m sorry to disturb you,’ he said moving further into the room. ‘Would you be able to join me now? For I have something which I wish to show you.’

‘But of course, just let me place the guard by the fire,’ I replied.

I walked with him along the corridor to the far end and I knew for certain he was taking me to the master bedroom. On reaching the door he opened it and bade me enter before him.

As I stepped inside the room, I gasped with surprise, and my hands flew to my mouth. It looked a different room.

The walls were a dusky pink as were the curtains and bed hangings. Gone was the huge dark mahogany wardrobe and in its place a lighter coloured one. A plush pink carpet decorated with yellow rosebuds covered the floor and a fire was burning cheerfully in the marble grate.

‘You are pleased, Silvia?’ Gareth asked.

‘Indeed I am,’ replied, looking back at him. ‘I can’t quite take it all in.’

‘See,’ he said, walking into the room, ‘I have had a dressing table placed under the window for you, and through here,’ as he spoke he opened a door in the far corner which I had not even noticed. As I followed him to look, I could see it contained a hip bath with fluffy white towels on a hand rail.

‘You’ve thought of everything,’ I conceded.

‘So you could sleep in here after our wedding?’ At his words my cheeks grew hot at the thought of our wedding night and I turned back to the bedroom to cover my confusion, asking myself the question he’d just asked. Everything seemed so matter of fact and devoid of emotion, it would indeed be a marriage of convenience. Gareth, by the window, looked at me expecting a reply.

‘Yes, I think I could,’ was all I would say.

As I walked back along the corridor to my room I felt sorely disillusioned and questioned whether I was doing the right thing. Gareth had gained more than one opportunity of taking me in his arms and speaking of love. The fact that he had not done so led me to believe that he felt nothing other than a desire to inherit this house.

* * *

Tuesday arrived and so did Caroline Peacock with her senior, Mistress Harriet Ford, together with the gowns and work basket. Isabel also arrived and I took her up to my bedroom where we would try on our wedding outfits. Pru was there to assist us and ready to fetch my mother and Aunt Rachel when the gowns were in place.