Foreydon, Arking Vale, 1810, Late Winter
“Might I not ask you to reconsider? The boys are doing so well under your tutelage.” Her father said.
Miss Oglethorpe shook her head, her back ramrod straight and shoulders stiff enough that Elizabeth wondered if it might be possible to use them as bookshelves. “The boys will do well enough with anyone. They are of an amiable and absorbing nature. Your daughter however, is of unladylike intelligence and I refuse to spend any more time answering questions that she should have no interest in.”
Safe in her favourite hiding place between two of her father’s largest bookcases, Elizabeth snorted and muttered softly. “She couldn’t answer any of them anyway. Useless woman.”
“Cynthia, please reconsider. It was quite difficult to find you in the first place, and Elizabeth needs a firm female hand to guide her in her coming debut.” Her father pleaded.
Miss Oglethorpe seemed to stand even straighter. “I cannot, Lord Beadington. I am already engaged to tutor the Gravesham Children once I have left here.”
“That seems a little… quick, considering that you have only just this moment placed your resignation on my desk.” Her father fingered the letter in front of him. “I could refuse.”
“And I would be forced to walk out if you did so.” The governess said, folding her arms.
He sighed. “What am I to do then? She and the boys need an education or they will never find their place in society.
“I would be surprised if you managed to find a husband for Elizabeth.” Miss Oglethorpe’s sternness appeared to soften in the face of his worry. “No one is going to want a wife who is smarter than they are. I would suggest that you ready her for the life of a Governess and engage an Academic Tutor for the three of them.”
Elizabeth bit her lip in an effort to stop herself shouting out in anger. A governess? Become a dried up old spinster who is only good for teaching irritating children like my brothers their letters and numbers? Never.
Lord Victor Beadington nodded. “That may curb her questioning mind for long enough that Lady Archington will be able to guide Elizabeth in her first season.”
The Governess’ hand flew to her mouth. “The Duchess of Arking Vale?”
Elizabeth’s father nodded again. “My sister married far above her place in society and has offered to sponsor Elizabeth in London when her cousin debuts.”
“Then Elizabeth has some small hope.” Miss Oglethorpe smiled.
It wasn’t an expression that Elizabeth had ever seen on the elderly governess’ face. I didn’t think she was capable of anything other than frowning.
“There are prospects for her, certainly.” Victor replied, absently looking at the picture of his wife on the mantel to his right. “Her mother left her a substantial sum and with the amount I am capable of providing, a husband who can overlook… her curiosity… will eventually be found.” His eyes studied the portrait and Elizabeth wondered if he missed her mother. He looked back at the governess who stood statue like in front of his desk. “Are you sure that I cannot persuade you to stay?”
She shook her head. “I have… done all I can here.”
Elizabeth frowned. She was going to say something else and she looks more uncomfortable than just giving her resignation should do. Is there something else going on? The fern in front of her rustled as she shifted a little to ease the ache in her knees.
Her father sighed. “Very well. I will send your reference to Gravesham Manor.”
“Thank you. May I be excused, my Lord? I must pack and be away to Yeracha by midday.” The governess smiled as Lord Beadington waved assent to her request. She curtseyed. “Thank you for your hospitality, my Lord.”
* * *
With a start, Elizabeth awoke, tears in her eyes. Why would I dream about that? She sat up, poured herself a glass of water by the light of the moon peeping through her curtains and drank half of it, the action of swallowing easing the lump in her throat.
I haven’t dreamed of Papa since I left Arkingvale. Never mind about Miss Oglethorpe. I wonder how she did teaching the Gravesham’s their table manners? As I recall they were always rather messy eaters.
She drained the water and turned the glass upside down on the doily so that it would dry. Then she laid back down, closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep again.
* * *
Elizabeth took her accustomed place at the breakfast table and stared down at her as yet empty plate, sighing. I suppose that I will have yet another entertaining day of looking after my brothers in the garden while Mr Vanson-Smythe spends the day snoozing in the hammock. I almost wish that Miss Oglethorpe had stayed.
The door to the orangery opened and the twins all but bounced through the door, chortling. Their laughter was infectious and it wasn’t long before Elizabeth was giggling as well. The two boys dashed over to her and wrapped their arms around her.
“Illi! We hope…” started Hamish.
“…that you slept well.” Finished William.
Elizabeth hugged them back. “I slept better once I had Sarah remake the bed. Apple pie bed indeed! I suppose I should be grateful it wasn’t anything more painful than that.”
“We would never…” William started.
“…hurt you, Illi.” Hamish finished.
Elizabeth sighed. “I know. I suppose you two want your birthday presents now.”
The boys cheered and ran in circles around the table until Elizabeth felt dizzy. The main door opened and their father entered the room.
“Now, now boys. Settle down to your repast please.” He said, without a tinge of rancour as he walked past them to the head of the table, pausing beside Elizabeth to drop a gentle kiss onto her cheek. “Good morning, Elizabeth.”
“Good morning, Papa.”
“But Illi said that there were presents!” William shouted.
“You may have them after breakfast. After all there is the matter of our birthday outing today.” Lord Beadington said as he sat down.
Elizabeth thought that he seemed sad. But then I suppose that the boy’s birthday would make him feel sad; after all it is Mama’s Deathday as well. She suppressed the usual surge of tears at the thought of her mother and poured milk into her tea.
The maids served the boys their porridge and added sprinkles of candied peel on the top as a treat. Elizabeth had her usual toast and honey, delicately nibbling in an effort to not get too sticky.
“Where are we going Papa?” Hamish asked as his brother slurped up a spoonful of porridge.
“Do you remember Sir James Starley, boys?” their father said.
The two of them shook their heads. Elizabeth looked up from her tea with interest. “The gentleman who was trying to turn Mr Stephenson’s invention into a road engine?”
“Trust you to remember it, Elizabeth.” Lord Beadington smiled. “You are correct though. He has finally managed to get the Steam Powered Vehicular Conveyance working and is ready to take passengers on its maiden run.”
The twin’s eyes widened and they cheered, William dropping his spoon to the floor in an excess of enthusiasm.
Elizabeth felt her chest tighten with excitement. Please say that I can go, papa. I don’t want to stay here and fill in that abominable tapestry of Tudor History with Mr Vanson-Smythe droning on about the mistakes that Queen Mary made in her short reign. I want to be a part of history in the making!
“Are we…” Hamish said.
“…going to be on its very first ever run?” finished William, taking a replacement spoon from a maid.
“We are indeed. The SPVC was offloaded from the train last night and I received the message this morning.” Lord Beadington picked up a slip of card from the small tray on his right and read out the details “Myself and two others are invited to be three of the first ever passengers upon the SPVC. We shall will journey from Sowthdon Town Square to Yeracha and back again in the first ever, non-horse powered carriage.”
The boys cheered
* * *
The dream dissolved in a flood of tears as Elizabeth woke up again. I don’t want to remember that day. Why am I dreaming of such awful things? Surely it can’t be because Thirrin is here?
Pulling her hankie out from under her pillow, she tried to stem the flow but it seemed insistent, so she gave herself over to them, gulping and gasping into her pillow so that she didn’t wake her guest up.
When the bout seemed to have run its course, Elizabeth drank another glass of water, turned her pillows over so that she had a cool dry surface to lay on and attempted to return to sleep.
This time the dream was waiting for her…
* * *
A knock at the library door heralded the entry of Mr Booth. “The Chief Constable begs a moment of your time Lady Beadington-Ritterson.” Uncharacteristically, he didn’t come all the way through the door, merely pushed his head and shoulders through the gap.
Elizabeth stared at him. The Chief Constable… Lady… for me to be called that… no, surely not… it has to be something else
Mrs Butcher stood up and moved behind her. Elizabeth could feel the warmth of the housekeeper’s body behind her suddenly chilled flesh. She drew strength from Mrs Butcher’s presence and nodded, not trusting herself to speak.
The butler appeared to understand and turned away.
Elizabeth heard him murmur to someone outside, then, as he opened the door fully and ushered the Chief Constable through, she also heard the patter of running feet. Two directions? I can understand sending a maid to the kitchens to make refreshments, but where would the other one be going?
The figure of the Chief Constable, resplendent in his dark blue uniform, silver epaulettes and buttons gleaming, wiped the thought out of her head. He swept into the room, tall blue hat held in white gloved hands and strode towards her. Booth took the top hat as the chief constable came to a halt in front of her.
Out of habit, Elizabeth rose and greeted him, hand held out to shake his. He took it, sank to one knee in front of her and looked up into her eyes. “I have some terrible news, Lady Beadington-Ritterson, I would suggest that you sit down.”
She raised him to his feet and as he stepped back releasing her hand, sank back onto her seat as gracefully as she could manage with suddenly trembling knees. He swallowed.
“I have the unwanted and tragic duty to inform you that Lord Victor Beadington, William Beadington-Ritterson and Hamish Beadington-Ritterson perished in the village square of Yeracha an hour ago.”
Elizabeth’s tongue felt huge and numb as the fear that had been lodged at the back of her mind ever since the news of her tutor’s death made itself known. She worked her jaw for a moment, until her tongue felt normal again, swallowed and managed. “How?”
The Chief Constable looked behind himself at a nearby chair. “Do you mind awfully, if I sit, down, my Lady? My limbs have no strength in them.”
She nodded. “Of course.”
He sat down with a sigh. “The vehicle they were travelling in had developed an engine fault and the passengers were sitting inside, waiting for the engineer to finish his repairs. As he tinkered with the engine, there was a sudden swelling in the steam condenser and the engine exploded. The only person to escape unscathed was Sir James Starley and that was by mere chance that he happened to be talking to the local blacksmith in his forge at the time.”
“Then how many people perished in total, including…” Elizabeth’s voice faltered.
“Two thirds of the village, My Lady. The village school had been let out early so that the children could see the conveyance and many of those who work around the square were there as well. An estimated one hundred and twenty souls were sent on to the Goddess’ cauldron for rebirth.” He pulled out a spotless handkerchief and wiped his brow.
“I see. Were there no survivors at all?” she asked as there was a soft knock in the family pattern at the door. Mrs Butcher called out for the maid to enter.
Booth opened it and ushered a maid into the room, pushing a tea trolley. The maid left it beside the fireplace and left quickly. The butler then served tea to Elizabeth and her guest, who appeared to be relieved at the interruption.
Once they both had a cup of tea in hand, Booth returned to his position beside the door.
Elizabeth repeated the question and the Chief Constable sipped before he answered.
“Several of the school children were far enough away to only receive minor injuries, but those inside the carriage, the engineer, the flag runner and all of those who had crowded close to the machine were killed instantly.”
She nodded and pushed her untasted cup away. “Thank you for coming to tell me. I appreciate that it isn’t the most pleasant duty in the world for a constable of any rank to have to do.”
He smiled, sadness etched on his heavy features. “It is one of those duties which have to be done, my Lady and it is all the more upsetting when I have to come to such a prominent family with such bad tidings.”
She found her hands trembling and folded them into her lap in an effort to remain calm. “I appreciate the personal attention.”
The smile gave way to a frown and he looked at her. “Is there anything I can do for you, Lady Elizabeth? Do you have any other relatives to help you in this sad hour?”
She blinked and swayed in her chair for a moment before her back automatically stiffened. “Only my Aunt, the Duchess of Arking Vale, but I suspect that has already been set in motion.” She glanced toward where Booth stood beside the tea trolley. He inclined his head just enough to tell her that her hunch was correct.
“Then if you wish it, I shall leave a constable with you to fend off those who may try to disturb you unannounced.” He picked up his hat and stood, looking uncomfortable. “I need to return to Yeracha, so if you will forgive me…”
This time when she woke up, the sky outside was lightening and Elizabeth didn’t want to go back to sleep.
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