The Edge

The doctor visited me on the very next day. I told him I wished to speak privately, that I required good counsel. He sat beside me and took out his little book in which he jotted down his notes. Once sat beside him, I felt at a loss as to where to begin but he helpfully started me by asking about my mood, did I feel more myself?

Gratefully I started to talk. At first the words were difficult, I fumbled for them. The doctor sat quiet, waiting for me. He assured me that I had ample time to explain myself, he had no other engagement to run off to. I was to take as long as I needed, he was at my service.

Under this attention, my words flowed more easily. I began by speaking about how things in the house had changed, the doctor asked me to describe my thoughts on how the house had been prior to recent events. I described my routine, my almost stagnant life. I described my friendship with Rhiannon and my desire to do things, to create and build. I talked about the tragic occurrences and then how the world now seemed as though I were not really in it but looking at it through glass or water. He seemed perplexed and I explained further.

“I feel as though I were lying on the bottom of a lake and looking up at the world through the water. I can hear them and see them but it is as if the world has been stripped of any cushion from pain. Like......like I have no skin and everything touches my nerves and my very soul.” He nodded and jotted this down. Looking up at me, he seemed to consider a moment and then said he wished to ask me a rather delicate series of questions.

Had there been some event that had changed the relationship between my husband and I before the recent deaths? I coloured, thinking of the dreadful night when Michael had seemed to lose his mind and hurt me. The doctor seemed to understand my look, although no words were spoken. He put down his book and took my hand.

“My lady, I do not think any medicine will be of use to you for I do not think there is anything the matter with you. Your feelings of sorrow and melancholy, your listlessness, these can be attributed to your sad loss. Your pregnancy is also sapping your strength, it is a common thing in the early months. My first piece of advice is not to think any longer than there is anything medically wrong with you.” I breathed a little easier. Although I had told him nothing of seeing a dead relative in my mirror or being able to turn into a doll and walk through a fantasy doll's house, I had still worried that he would think me unwell, especially after my recent behaviour. I said as much, leaving out my secret friendship and he smiled.

“I have seen mad people before. True madness is very different to what people might believe. You are simply struggling with feelings which are too powerful for you to contain them. Our society requires repression of emotions, which is past days it did not. I rather attribute that to the increase in mental affliction we see these days.” He smiled gently then hesitated, clearly wondering if he should speak again but he did speak.

“I am afraid, my lady, that some persons around you do not share my view. I may be the medical attendant but oft times if a person is set on a certain outcome then that means little. I must speak plainly and warn you of a danger, your sister in law and her husband believe you to be suffering from a mental malady, one which begun before the death of your son but which has been aggravated by that event. She seemed to have the ear of your husband and he has listened. At present I have persuaded him that she is utterly wrong but I must warn you that you must become more cautious. It is why I have insisted that she not see you, I think she is looking for evidence against you and will do what she can to get it.”

I was struck by his honesty and by the truth of it. One thing puzzled me though, what I had done to deserve such hatred? The doctor seemed to know.

“You had the love of her mother. You had the respect of her father and brother. You are stronger than she, because you do not fear to nurse the sick and are not repelled by that or by a person's station in life. Mrs Everleigh, beautiful and well situated as she is, has not that character nor the capacity to be a better person. You remind her that she is lacking.” So simple. I asked how he knew this. He shrugged his shoulders.

“A doctor is trained to observe, my lady. We must pick up facts quickly and quietly. We must learn to look after a patients well being as much as their bodily health. This brings me to my next point. You say you feel removed from the world. Very well, let us reintegrate you to it. I think that you are too much inside the home, you know little of the countryside about you. You are interested in it though?” I told him I was, that I much enjoyed Anna telling me of village gossip, of stories from the district and the history of the place. The doctor beamed.

“This makes our task all the easier. I think that you should get out into the world more and I know just how to accomplish this. These is a group of women who do good works in the neighbourhood. They make up baskets of food for the poorer family's, they make clothes and toys for the children, they visit the local school to read or teach a class on some topic. They distribute medicines and assistance to people and such like. I think you should join them. It would be good for you, you would learn about the area, make friends and win more freedom and respect. Your husband can make no problem with this, it is a noble thing to do. I think you should begin tomorrow. I shall collect you in my dog cart at nine tomorrow morning to take you to meet with them. They hold a meeting on the first day of the week at nine to discuss what activities will be done for the coming week. It is a perfect time for you to join them. Do you agree to this?” I did, eagerly. It sounded just right and interesting besides. The doctor was pleased. He said he would take his leave in that case and that he would see me the next day. I was to be ready the next morning.

After he left I looked for Bess. She had been listening and was reflected in the glass on the window panes as I sat watching the doctor drive away in his little dog cart. She approved if what he had proposed but was worried over Victoria. I consoled her, Michael was not Richard and I had the doctor on my side. I would not consult fear in this occasion.

The next day I was downstairs in the hall by ten to nine. I had slept well, risen and bathed and eaten a large breakfast of porridge with brown sugar, toast with honey and Nurse Ruth was pleased with me. I had colour in my cheeks and greater strength, I had needed only a small dose of drops that night and she was hopeful that soon I would not need any.

I had puzzled for a time over what to wear, I did not want to see too well dressed but then I needed to dress as befitted my rank. I had settled on my brown wool dress with the simple lace trimming and the gold embroidery on the bodice and around the bottom of the skirt. It was warm and practical, not too colourful or showy but well made and gave a warmth to my cheeks and my eyes. My rounded stomach had started to push at the front of many of my gowns but this one was cut a little looser so it fitted well.

While I was out I tasked Anna with letting out some of my dresses. She had relaxed around me again and was happily absorbed in my wardrobe. I wore a warm cape and bonnet which was lined with lambswool. When the dog cart drove up I went out and delighted in the cool air on my face, it was refreshing to be out of doors again. The doctor handed me up then climbed in and we drove off down the drive toward the village. The doctor pointed out small areas of interest to me, things I had not known about such as some stone age barrow graves on the outskirts of the park, a place where it was known that ghosts walked and another spot where it was thought a Roman house had once stood after coins from that period had been found.

We drove into the village then pulled up at the community rooms, a building that served as a general meeting place just off the market. Inside one of the smaller rooms off of the main hall were the women. Only six in number but from different walks of life. The best known to me was the house keeper of the local priest, Miss McKinley She was in her forties, with neat spectacles and neat handwriting, a very efficient woman. I also knew the wife of the local magistrate, who had three young sons and a pretty face and rounded figure. She was a jolly woman who was well liked in the village. Three of the others were farmer's wives who were between twenty five and fifty, kind and agreeable women all. The fourth was the wife of the foreman at the mine who I had met a few times when she and her husband had been invited to dinner. She was my age, exceedingly pretty with light brown hair and blue eyes, pink cheeks and had recently given birth to her second child, a girl. The doctor introduced me, tipped his hat to us and told me that when I was done, he would be pleased to take me home, I should call in at his surgery.

We women, left alone, seated ourselves about a table and Miss McKinley took up a block of writing paper and a pencil. She took it upon herself to welcome me on behalf of all of them, they were pleased I wished to join them. Each month a new group leader was chosen and she would chair the meetings, with Miss McKinley being that months leader.

First up for discussion was the making of Christmas stockings for the children of the district. These would be distributed to the local school and also to the children at the mine on the next day. I realised with shock that Christmas was a week away and mentally told myself I should ask for the house to be decorated.

The plan was for us all to meet at nine and pack the stockings then take them to the school at twelve. After this, we would go to the mine at three to distribute them to the children and also to sing some carols with them. I eagerly agreed to join them, brooding alone forgotten.

Next were some donations to the local family's who attended the church. The supplies from London had arrived and were ready to be given out, we simply had to decide on how. There was s silence until I suddenly had an idea. There were two trees in the park that I had already thought of for Christmas trees. One would adorn the hall, would the other be a good donation to the church? I could have some decorations delivered and we could give the town their own tree, and have one of our husbands dress as Saint Nicholas to give out the gifts. This idea was greeted with warm approval and Miss McKinley noted down the plan.

After this we discussed one of the farmers giving a few casks of his best cider as a gift to the miners and the giving of a dance to celebrate on the dawn of the new year. We each pledged to give breads, fruit, meat and mead, I said I could give some cakes and sweet pies as well. This was judged as a good months work and we broke up, planning to meet on the morrow.

I walked across to the surgery with Miss McKinley on her way to the parsonage. She told me she was privately glad of my help for more reasons than one, she had heard of my loss from the priest and was delighted to see me actively taking a good and Christian role in the village. It was worthy of me. We parted then and I met the doctor who was on his way out to visit some of the poor and sick who lived on the outskirts of the borough. He said he would drive me home first but I was seized with a sudden fancy, would he allow me to accompany him? Surprised, he allowed it, apparently the malady was not contagious and it might be useful to have a woman there.

We drove for a half hour, chatting about this and that, until we reached a small croft. Inside was a miner who had broken his leg and needed it re plastering. He had a skinny wife and three skinny children. He apparently also had two older children who worked in the mine as Pit boys. On Dr Crowner's suggestion I took the children out to run about the yard and play chase while the man and his wife attended to the medical need. The children had surprising energy for ones so hungry and ran about nimbly. They were cheerful things, a perfect tonic for me, and I was a little sad when we had to leave.

As we drove off the doctor seemed withdrawn. When I asked why he told me that the wife was again with child. This would number six children in a house that could hardly keep its current inhabitants alive. With their father unable to work the past six weeks, the money was impossible and his visit had been free of charge. The mine paid a small sum to injured workers but it was not enough to manage all their needs. Immediately I offered to pay a sum to them. Dr Crowner shook his head, it would seem too much like cold charity and would insult them. I thought on it and then asked if I could do anything else to help. I felt that there was much I should do in the area. After a while the doctor spoke.

He had often thought of starting a scholarship programme in the village, where children were paid for at the school and would receive their breakfast and dinner as well. This could include medical treatment free of charge. It would be expensive, for medicine and education and clothing and food would cost a tidy sum for each child. This would at least ensure that the village children were fed and could advance through learning, regardless of their parents position. The school currently only had twelve students but he wanted to be able to pay for twice that amount. I thought on it, what would the cost be? He told me, we reckoned it up.

When we reached the hall I had made up my mind. I told the doctor that I would pay for this scholarship. W must have it set up quickly, I wanted to do good as much as was possible. I then took out my purse, presented him with all the coins that it contained and told him to deliver a basket of food and wine to the family we had seen earlier. It was to be sent as a Christmas present from himself, they need not know it was from me. He accepted it with a chuckle. I was clearly a determined woman.

I asked him in for tea but he declined, saying he must see some more patients. Before he drive away he asked if I still felt listless. I shook my head. For the first time in years I felt active and useful and needed. It was an intoxicating feeling.

I walked across to the greenhouses where I knew the gardeners could be found. I spoke to them and told them to have the two trees I had thought of cut down, one for the house and other to be delivered to the church. I also asked that they make up a large basket of fruit for the villagers, from our hothouse, and the head gardener touched his hat and smiled.

Next I went to the cook and asked her to make up a large batch of cupcakes, some flapjacks and biscuits. I told her I wanted to give the village a gift from us and she asked if perhaps some of her pork pies and such would not be good as well? We agreed upon some delicacy's and she said she would have them ready for the next day.

Leaving the kitchen bubbling with talk as the staff began the task I had set them, I went to the housekeeper's room. I told her about my plans, to seek out the decorations for the house and to have the tree stood in the hall as it always was. She seemed truly gratified to see me taking an active interest in the house again and said she would have it done directly. I told her about my plans with the women's society and she nodded and smiled and asked questions. I was just rising to go upstairs when my head became giddy and I felt myself slip back into my chair.

Mrs Levin called for Nurse Ruth and Anna, when they arrived Nurse took one look at me and sent Anna running off to get hot spiced wine, brandy and bring me up some lunch. She had one of the housemen carry me upstairs and then took off my shoes and stockings. My feet were numb and she rubbed my legs briskly with the brandy when Anna arrived with it. I drank the wine and Anna was sent to run my bath. Meanwhile Nurse Ruth undressed me and chafed my hands and feet some more. Anna bathed me and I was dressed in one of my warmest gowns, in deep red wool with lace trimming.

As Anna dressed my hair, I was sat beside the fire and given a large bowl of stew, thick with mutton and vegetables. Nurse sternly saw each mouthful swallowed and made me take a large chunk of bread and butter besides. Once I had finished she gave me a dose of the strengthening medicine and told me to sit quiet somewhere and rest. I asked if I might do some more work on the doll's house and she nodded, yes I could do that as long as she was with me. We went through and I discovered that Nurse had also taken it upon herself to bring up one of the arm chairs from the library and a foot stool. I was seated upon it, my feet upon the stool and a shawl about my shoulders. Anna sat near by, carefully doing some work on my gowns and Nurse sat on the bench and admired the doll's house and asked what I was doing.

I showed her, I was carefully drawing tiny miniature portraits for the walls of the house. After nodding approvingly Nurse Ruth went to the other room, brought back her knitting and began to clack away with her needles. I told her of the work I had started upon in the village and she was even more approving. However she had words of caution.

“You should not take so much time in the outdoors. This is why you fell faint today, your condition means you must take greater care. Cold and over exposure, too much excitement, these could harm you. I think that you must balance your time and be careful, at least for the next month or so. I will tell Cook to make you up a little package of food to take tomorrow, you must eat and drink regularly to avoid faintness.” I asked if she had much experience as a midwife and she laughed merrily.

“Oh yes, much and more! I helped my mother birth my two youngest siblings and then I have done a much of the birthing with women during my work. The faintness and numbness of the feet is a common thing in the early months so not to worry. But I want to see you eating better! I agree with the doctor that more activity outside the home is a good thing but you must be careful to guard yourself too.” At this point Mrs Levin entered. She looked worried and embarrassed. She asked me if I would allow Mrs Everleigh to come up and speak with me. I saw from Mrs Levin's manner that there was some serious problem afoot and agreed, as long as Nurse Ruth, Anna and herself would remain present.

Victoria came in. Dressed in deep mourning, her face was a mask of annoyance. She looked at the other ladies as if she wished them to go. Anna would have risen except I told her to stay where she was and Nurse Ruth stared boldly at her, while continuing to sew. I offered Victoria a seat which she refused and I asked her what was wrong.

“What is wrong? I come out of the parlour to find this person;” indicating Mrs Levin, “and the gardeners assembling a Christmas tree! Decorations being put up as well! I thought you of all people would remember that this house is in mourning! And you ask me what is wrong! I tell you, have these baubles taken down at once!” I determined to keep my cool and a calm look from Nurse Ruth helped me. I replied in a tone as sweet and kind as any we had all heard.

“I am sorry to have grieved you, my dear sister, but it is Christmas and this house always has a tree and decorations. I wish to celebrate what we have and celebrate the memory of our loved ones, not hide away in darkness. The tree will stay. If this distresses you, then please leave, with my blessing.” Victoria's mouth dropped open, she was furious! She stormed out, followed by Mrs Levin who was hiding a smile and I went back to my painting. Nurse Ruth chuckled and even Anna dared to smile!

“I will vow we have not heard the last from her on this subject! You bore up well, my lady!” said Nurse Ruth, standing up and shaking out the nearly completed shawl. I laughed, she was right but I was tired of being thrust into a corner in my own home. I spent a couple more hours at work until I heard my husband return and then said I would go down to dinner that night. I found the sitting room empty, so I went to see Cook who had the cakes ready and iced, then back upstairs to view the tree. It looked very fine and had been decorated with white and red ribbons, the pretty glass baubles and candles that Rhiannon had ordered from France and the hall was filled with its fresh scent of resin and pine.

I was standing looking at it when the library door opened and Michael came out, followed by his sister. Seeing me, he beckoned me to come with him while Victoria went into the sitting room. Once inside the library Michael asked, with dangerous quietness, why I had chosen to break the house's mourning period in favour of celebration. I told him frankly that I thought it better to celebrate the lives of those who had passed and to thank the Lord for our riches rather than hide in darkness. I followed by telling him of my donation to the village and my new work there. Michael was taken aback. He asked how I intended to fund this work. I told him, with my own fortune, although I was sure that the donations of food and the tree in the name of the family, would not matter since it placed us all in a good light. He agreed to this but told me he wanted the decorations taken down.

“This is not the time to celebrate. The tree must come down. I am with my sister on this, it goes against tradition to act as if this is a normal Christmas. We will go to the service in the village for Christmas day but no more.” I could do nothing but walk out. I went straight to Mrs Levin and asked if she had heard from my husband. She had. The footmen would take the tree down quickly. I said to gather some of the gardeners and the house men, take the tree and its decorations down to the village and place the tree in the town square. The other was still to go to the church. I wished to donate both tree's and the decorations to the village. If my word had no weight in my own home then it would at least carry weight with the people! Michael, Victoria and everyone else would soon see that I would not lie down and let them rule my life!

The doctor visited me on the very next day. I told him I wished to speak privately, that I required good counsel. He sat beside me and took out his little book in which he jotted down his notes. Once sat beside him, I felt at a loss as to where to begin but he helpfully started me by asking about my mood, did I feel more myself?

Gratefully I started to talk. At first the words were difficult, I fumbled for them. The doctor sat quiet, waiting for me. He assured me that I had ample time to explain myself, he had no other engagement to run off to. I was to take as long as I needed, he was at my service.

Under this attention, my words flowed more easily. I began by speaking about how things in the house had changed, the doctor asked me to describe my thoughts on how the house had been prior to recent events. I described my routine, my almost stagnant life. I described my friendship with Rhiannon and my desire to do things, to create and build. I talked about the tragic occurrences and then how the world now seemed as though I were not really in it but looking at it through glass or water. He seemed perplexed and I explained further.

“I feel as though I were lying on the bottom of a lake and looking up at the world through the water. I can hear them and see them but it is as if the world has been stripped of any cushion from pain. Like......like I have no skin and everything touches my nerves and my very soul.” He nodded and jotted this down. Looking up at me, he seemed to consider a moment and then said he wished to ask me a rather delicate series of questions.

Had there been some event that had changed the relationship between my husband and I before the recent deaths? I coloured, thinking of the dreadful night when Michael had seemed to lose his mind and hurt me. The doctor seemed to understand my look, although no words were spoken. He put down his book and took my hand.

“My lady, I do not think any medicine will be of use to you for I do not think there is anything the matter with you. Your feelings of sorrow and melancholy, your listlessness, these can be attributed to your sad loss. Your pregnancy is also sapping your strength, it is a common thing in the early months. My first piece of advice is not to think any longer than there is anything medically wrong with you.” I breathed a little easier. Although I had told him nothing of seeing a dead relative in my mirror or being able to turn into a doll and walk through a fantasy doll's house, I had still worried that he would think me unwell, especially after my recent behaviour. I said as much, leaving out my secret friendship and he smiled.

“I have seen mad people before. True madness is very different to what people might believe. You are simply struggling with feelings which are too powerful for you to contain them. Our society requires repression of emotions, which is past days it did not. I rather attribute that to the increase in mental affliction we see these days.” He smiled gently then hesitated, clearly wondering if he should speak again but he did speak.

“I am afraid, my lady, that some persons around you do not share my view. I may be the medical attendant but oft times if a person is set on a certain outcome then that means little. I must speak plainly and warn you of a danger, your sister in law and her husband believe you to be suffering from a mental malady, one which begun before the death of your son but which has been aggravated by that event. She seemed to have the ear of your husband and he has listened. At present I have persuaded him that she is utterly wrong but I must warn you that you must become more cautious. It is why I have insisted that she not see you, I think she is looking for evidence against you and will do what she can to get it.”

I was struck by his honesty and by the truth of it. One thing puzzled me though, what I had done to deserve such hatred? The doctor seemed to know.

“You had the love of her mother. You had the respect of her father and brother. You are stronger than she, because you do not fear to nurse the sick and are not repelled by that or by a person's station in life. Mrs Everleigh, beautiful and well situated as she is, has not that character nor the capacity to be a better person. You remind her that she is lacking.” So simple. I asked how he knew this. He shrugged his shoulders.

“A doctor is trained to observe, my lady. We must pick up facts quickly and quietly. We must learn to look after a patients well being as much as their bodily health. This brings me to my next point. You say you feel removed from the world. Very well, let us reintegrate you to it. I think that you are too much inside the home, you know little of the countryside about you. You are interested in it though?” I told him I was, that I much enjoyed Anna telling me of village gossip, of stories from the district and the history of the place. The doctor beamed.

“This makes our task all the easier. I think that you should get out into the world more and I know just how to accomplish this. These is a group of women who do good works in the neighbourhood. They make up baskets of food for the poorer family's, they make clothes and toys for the children, they visit the local school to read or teach a class on some topic. They distribute medicines and assistance to people and such like. I think you should join them. It would be good for you, you would learn about the area, make friends and win more freedom and respect. Your husband can make no problem with this, it is a noble thing to do. I think you should begin tomorrow. I shall collect you in my dog cart at nine tomorrow morning to take you to meet with them. They hold a meeting on the first day of the week at nine to discuss what activities will be done for the coming week. It is a perfect time for you to join them. Do you agree to this?” I did, eagerly. It sounded just right and interesting besides. The doctor was pleased. He said he would take his leave in that case and that he would see me the next day. I was to be ready the next morning.

After he left I looked for Bess. She had been listening and was reflected in the glass on the window panes as I sat watching the doctor drive away in his little dog cart. She approved if what he had proposed but was worried over Victoria. I consoled her, Michael was not Richard and I had the doctor on my side. I would not consult fear in this occasion.

The next day I was downstairs in the hall by ten to nine. I had slept well, risen and bathed and eaten a large breakfast of porridge with brown sugar, toast with honey and Nurse Ruth was pleased with me. I had colour in my cheeks and greater strength, I had needed only a small dose of drops that night and she was hopeful that soon I would not need any.

I had puzzled for a time over what to wear, I did not want to see too well dressed but then I needed to dress as befitted my rank. I had settled on my brown wool dress with the simple lace trimming and the gold embroidery on the bodice and around the bottom of the skirt. It was warm and practical, not too colourful or showy but well made and gave a warmth to my cheeks and my eyes. My rounded stomach had started to push at the front of many of my gowns but this one was cut a little looser so it fitted well.

While I was out I tasked Anna with letting out some of my dresses. She had relaxed around me again and was happily absorbed in my wardrobe. I wore a warm cape and bonnet which was lined with lambswool. When the dog cart drove up I went out and delighted in the cool air on my face, it was refreshing to be out of doors again. The doctor handed me up then climbed in and we drove off down the drive toward the village. The doctor pointed out small areas of interest to me, things I had not known about such as some stone age barrow graves on the outskirts of the park, a place where it was known that ghosts walked and another spot where it was thought a Roman house had once stood after coins from that period had been found.

We drove into the village then pulled up at the community rooms, a building that served as a general meeting place just off the market. Inside one of the smaller rooms off of the main hall were the women. Only six in number but from different walks of life. The best known to me was the house keeper of the local priest, Miss McKinley She was in her forties, with neat spectacles and neat handwriting, a very efficient woman. I also knew the wife of the local magistrate, who had three young sons and a pretty face and rounded figure. She was a jolly woman who was well liked in the village. Three of the others were farmer's wives who were between twenty five and fifty, kind and agreeable women all. The fourth was the wife of the foreman at the mine who I had met a few times when she and her husband had been invited to dinner. She was my age, exceedingly pretty with light brown hair and blue eyes, pink cheeks and had recently given birth to her second child, a girl. The doctor introduced me, tipped his hat to us and told me that when I was done, he would be pleased to take me home, I should call in at his surgery.

We women, left alone, seated ourselves about a table and Miss McKinley took up a block of writing paper and a pencil. She took it upon herself to welcome me on behalf of all of them, they were pleased I wished to join them. Each month a new group leader was chosen and she would chair the meetings, with Miss McKinley being that months leader.

First up for discussion was the making of Christmas stockings for the children of the district. These would be distributed to the local school and also to the children at the mine on the next day. I realised with shock that Christmas was a week away and mentally told myself I should ask for the house to be decorated.

The plan was for us all to meet at nine and pack the stockings then take them to the school at twelve. After this, we would go to the mine at three to distribute them to the children and also to sing some carols with them. I eagerly agreed to join them, brooding alone forgotten.

Next were some donations to the local family's who attended the church. The supplies from London had arrived and were ready to be given out, we simply had to decide on how. There was s silence until I suddenly had an idea. There were two trees in the park that I had already thought of for Christmas trees. One would adorn the hall, would the other be a good donation to the church? I could have some decorations delivered and we could give the town their own tree, and have one of our husbands dress as Saint Nicholas to give out the gifts. This idea was greeted with warm approval and Miss McKinley noted down the plan.

After this we discussed one of the farmers giving a few casks of his best cider as a gift to the miners and the giving of a dance to celebrate on the dawn of the new year. We each pledged to give breads, fruit, meat and mead, I said I could give some cakes and sweet pies as well. This was judged as a good months work and we broke up, planning to meet on the morrow.

I walked across to the surgery with Miss McKinley on her way to the parsonage. She told me she was privately glad of my help for more reasons than one, she had heard of my loss from the priest and was delighted to see me actively taking a good and Christian role in the village. It was worthy of me. We parted then and I met the doctor who was on his way out to visit some of the poor and sick who lived on the outskirts of the borough. He said he would drive me home first but I was seized with a sudden fancy, would he allow me to accompany him? Surprised, he allowed it, apparently the malady was not contagious and it might be useful to have a woman there.

We drove for a half hour, chatting about this and that, until we reached a small croft. Inside was a miner who had broken his leg and needed it re plastering. He had a skinny wife and three skinny children. He apparently also had two older children who worked in the mine as Pit boys. On Dr Crowner's suggestion I took the children out to run about the yard and play chase while the man and his wife attended to the medical need. The children had surprising energy for ones so hungry and ran about nimbly. They were cheerful things, a perfect tonic for me, and I was a little sad when we had to leave.

As we drove off the doctor seemed withdrawn. When I asked why he told me that the wife was again with child. This would number six children in a house that could hardly keep its current inhabitants alive. With their father unable to work the past six weeks, the money was impossible and his visit had been free of charge. The mine paid a small sum to injured workers but it was not enough to manage all their needs. Immediately I offered to pay a sum to them. Dr Crowner shook his head, it would seem too much like cold charity and would insult them. I thought on it and then asked if I could do anything else to help. I felt that there was much I should do in the area. After a while the doctor spoke.

He had often thought of starting a scholarship programme in the village, where children were paid for at the school and would receive their breakfast and dinner as well. This could include medical treatment free of charge. It would be expensive, for medicine and education and clothing and food would cost a tidy sum for each child. This would at least ensure that the village children were fed and could advance through learning, regardless of their parents position. The school currently only had twelve students but he wanted to be able to pay for twice that amount. I thought on it, what would the cost be? He told me, we reckoned it up.

When we reached the hall I had made up my mind. I told the doctor that I would pay for this scholarship. W must have it set up quickly, I wanted to do good as much as was possible. I then took out my purse, presented him with all the coins that it contained and told him to deliver a basket of food and wine to the family we had seen earlier. It was to be sent as a Christmas present from himself, they need not know it was from me. He accepted it with a chuckle. I was clearly a determined woman.

I asked him in for tea but he declined, saying he must see some more patients. Before he drive away he asked if I still felt listless. I shook my head. For the first time in years I felt active and useful and needed. It was an intoxicating feeling.

I walked across to the greenhouses where I knew the gardeners could be found. I spoke to them and told them to have the two trees I had thought of cut down, one for the house and other to be delivered to the church. I also asked that they make up a large basket of fruit for the villagers, from our hothouse, and the head gardener touched his hat and smiled.

Next I went to the cook and asked her to make up a large batch of cupcakes, some flapjacks and biscuits. I told her I wanted to give the village a gift from us and she asked if perhaps some of her pork pies and such would not be good as well? We agreed upon some delicacy's and she said she would have them ready for the next day.

Leaving the kitchen bubbling with talk as the staff began the task I had set them, I went to the housekeeper's room. I told her about my plans, to seek out the decorations for the house and to have the tree stood in the hall as it always was. She seemed truly gratified to see me taking an active interest in the house again and said she would have it done directly. I told her about my plans with the women's society and she nodded and smiled and asked questions. I was just rising to go upstairs when my head became giddy and I felt myself slip back into my chair.

Mrs Levin called for Nurse Ruth and Anna, when they arrived Nurse took one look at me and sent Anna running off to get hot spiced wine, brandy and bring me up some lunch. She had one of the housemen carry me upstairs and then took off my shoes and stockings. My feet were numb and she rubbed my legs briskly with the brandy when Anna arrived with it. I drank the wine and Anna was sent to run my bath. Meanwhile Nurse Ruth undressed me and chafed my hands and feet some more. Anna bathed me and I was dressed in one of my warmest gowns, in deep red wool with lace trimming.

As Anna dressed my hair, I was sat beside the fire and given a large bowl of stew, thick with mutton and vegetables. Nurse sternly saw each mouthful swallowed and made me take a large chunk of bread and butter besides. Once I had finished she gave me a dose of the strengthening medicine and told me to sit quiet somewhere and rest. I asked if I might do some more work on the doll's house and she nodded, yes I could do that as long as she was with me. We went through and I discovered that Nurse had also taken it upon herself to bring up one of the arm chairs from the library and a foot stool. I was seated upon it, my feet upon the stool and a shawl about my shoulders. Anna sat near by, carefully doing some work on my gowns and Nurse sat on the bench and admired the doll's house and asked what I was doing.

I showed her, I was carefully drawing tiny miniature portraits for the walls of the house. After nodding approvingly Nurse Ruth went to the other room, brought back her knitting and began to clack away with her needles. I told her of the work I had started upon in the village and she was even more approving. However she had words of caution.

“You should not take so much time in the outdoors. This is why you fell faint today, your condition means you must take greater care. Cold and over exposure, too much excitement, these could harm you. I think that you must balance your time and be careful, at least for the next month or so. I will tell Cook to make you up a little package of food to take tomorrow, you must eat and drink regularly to avoid faintness.” I asked if she had much experience as a midwife and she laughed merrily.

“Oh yes, much and more! I helped my mother birth my two youngest siblings and then I have done a much of the birthing with women during my work. The faintness and numbness of the feet is a common thing in the early months so not to worry. But I want to see you eating better! I agree with the doctor that more activity outside the home is a good thing but you must be careful to guard yourself too.” At this point Mrs Levin entered. She looked worried and embarrassed. She asked me if I would allow Mrs Everleigh to come up and speak with me. I saw from Mrs Levin's manner that there was some serious problem afoot and agreed, as long as Nurse Ruth, Anna and herself would remain present.

Victoria came in. Dressed in deep mourning, her face was a mask of annoyance. She looked at the other ladies as if she wished them to go. Anna would have risen except I told her to stay where she was and Nurse Ruth stared boldly at her, while continuing to sew. I offered Victoria a seat which she refused and I asked her what was wrong.

“What is wrong? I come out of the parlour to find this person;” indicating Mrs Levin, “and the gardeners assembling a Christmas tree! Decorations being put up as well! I thought you of all people would remember that this house is in mourning! And you ask me what is wrong! I tell you, have these baubles taken down at once!” I determined to keep my cool and a calm look from Nurse Ruth helped me. I replied in a tone as sweet and kind as any we had all heard.

“I am sorry to have grieved you, my dear sister, but it is Christmas and this house always has a tree and decorations. I wish to celebrate what we have and celebrate the memory of our loved ones, not hide away in darkness. The tree will stay. If this distresses you, then please leave, with my blessing.” Victoria's mouth dropped open, she was furious! She stormed out, followed by Mrs Levin who was hiding a smile and I went back to my painting. Nurse Ruth chuckled and even Anna dared to smile!

“I will vow we have not heard the last from her on this subject! You bore up well, my lady!” said Nurse Ruth, standing up and shaking out the nearly completed shawl. I laughed, she was right but I was tired of being thrust into a corner in my own home. I spent a couple more hours at work until I heard my husband return and then said I would go down to dinner that night. I found the sitting room empty, so I went to see Cook who had the cakes ready and iced, then back upstairs to view the tree. It looked very fine and had been decorated with white and red ribbons, the pretty glass baubles and candles that Rhiannon had ordered from France and the hall was filled with its fresh scent of resin and pine.

I was standing looking at it when the library door opened and Michael came out, followed by his sister. Seeing me, he beckoned me to come with him while Victoria went into the sitting room. Once inside the library Michael asked, with dangerous quietness, why I had chosen to break the house's mourning period in favour of celebration. I told him frankly that I thought it better to celebrate the lives of those who had passed and to thank the Lord for our riches rather than hide in darkness. I followed by telling him of my donation to the village and my new work there. Michael was taken aback. He asked how I intended to fund this work. I told him, with my own fortune, although I was sure that the donations of food and the tree in the name of the family, would not matter since it placed us all in a good light. He agreed to this but told me he wanted the decorations taken down.

“This is not the time to celebrate. The tree must come down. I am with my sister on this, it goes against tradition to act as if this is a normal Christmas. We will go to the service in the village for Christmas day but no more.” I could do nothing but walk out. I went straight to Mrs Levin and asked if she had heard from my husband. She had. The footmen would take the tree down quickly. I said to gather some of the gardeners and the house men, take the tree and its decorations down to the village and place the tree in the town square. The other was still to go to the church. I wished to donate both tree's and the decorations to the village. If my word had no weight in my own home then it would at least carry weight with the people! Michael, Victoria and everyone else would soon see that I would not lie down and let them rule my life!

The next day when I rose I went straight to the doll's house. It was as I had left it, the dolls had not moved, nor had anything changed. But I had walked down those miniature corridors and seen my son grown up into a young boy. I had held Bess's hand and had built a snow man. I had known a perfect family, the family as it could have been.

I took up Stephen Bruce's letter. Re-reading it I decided I must answer. I puzzled over it for a time before I could write the words to the man who had ended my hopes and yet had re kindled them.

Stephen

I thought of so many ways of beginning this letter. I could not decide on a greeting. I do not know what you are to me any more.

When you left I felt like a Grecian princess standing in the ruins of the city of Troy, smoke in her eyes and the scent of death in her nose, waiting until darkness descended for her lover to return to her. Now I feel as though life is a ruin, and all around me are grave stones. I have lost my lover, my father, my mother, my son. I feel as though I flit between two extremes of happiness and sorrow, yet each is tempered by the other.

Joy is flavoured with the knowledge that soon sorrow will return. Sorrow rules but longs for Joy. I wish that I could find peace. It is all I can wish for now.

The dolls are beautiful. In more ways than you can know, they have allowed me to rediscover some of the Joy that is denied me in real life. This can make no sense to you but I promise, I am grateful.

I know not what else I can say.

Imogen.

After finishing the letter, I sealed it carefully and had it sent down to the post bag. I made up my mine to get dressed and changed into a gown of soft cream wool. The long hours of grief had etched their lines on my face and I looked paler than ever, with dark shadows beneath my eyes. My belly beneath my dress was starting to swell. I had my hand on it absently when Bess appeared to me in the mirror. She looked at me speculatively and then asked me if I felt well.

I suppose I must have looked a little blank because she gestured towards my stomach and said she meant my condition. I thought for a moment then said that I felt very well. I felt little sickness, only some weakness and dizziness in the head. Bess was silent. I could sense her worry. I told her to speak if she had anything to say.

“I know it has been an awful time for you recently. You have had much to think of. I do not blame you for not thinking of this sooner but I really must advise you, as your friend. You are with child, you must think of that child. No matter what the relations are between you and that child's father, no matter how you grieve for your lost son, you must think of the unborn baby and its well being. So far, you have not done so.”

I knew she was right. I had not thought of my child, it was as if that child did not exist for me. I felt that I was the worst possible mother in the world. Bess interrupted my thoughts.

“I know you are reproaching yourself but do not. No one could ever blame you. The loss of three close family members, one your own son. You have needed some time to recover and you have had that time. Now you need to think of what must come next.” I knew she was right but the very thought made me feel tired. I had no strength for thinking of anything more complicated than what I would do in the next hour. I tried to tell Bess this. She listened but shook her head.

“No matter. I think what you must do is speak with your physician. He seems a kindly man, one who will listen. You must explain to him that you are finding if difficult to think of both your and your child's welfare and ask for his assistance.”

I could see the sense in her words. I was not fit to take care of myself, how could I begin to be responsible for this new child? A sudden wave of fear washed over me, what if they kept the baby from me? As they had done from Bess with her children? She had not told me the ages of her children or how old they had been when she was taken away. I had to ask her. Bess's beautiful face grew utterly still. When she spoke, it was in a voice utterly unlike her natural one. It was toneless, quiet and so filled with pain, so coloured with anguish that it had taken all the life out of her.

“When they took me to the asylum I had four children. My oldest son Richard, who became the next Lord Llewellyn, the father of the late Lord Robert. I than followed this with two daughters, Lucia and Eliza. My youngest was a boy named Edward. When I was taken away Edward was only four. My daughters were eight and eleven. My oldest was fifteen. I had been in the asylum for two months when I became sick as a dog. I could keep nothing down, at first the doctors thought it was simply an illness but then the nurses asked me if I had noticed a change in my courses. I realised I had not bled for over three months. I was examined. I was pregnant. I spent the entire six months before my baby's birth in the asylum, with nothing to think of except my baby. I was frightened, I was alone. They did not plunge me or attempt to treat me in any other way while I was there, I was grateful for that at least. When my labour begun I was moved into a room upstairs with a doctor and two nurses. I was tied down during the birth, I could not even sit up. When my baby was born I was not even allowed to hold her. She was taken away. I asked the doctors every time I saw them, I asked the nurses every day, I begged them to tell me what had happened to my daughter. What her name was, what she looked like, where she was. They never answered. One day I was allowed to see the priest for confession. I begged him to try and get me some information, anything. I was desperate. He agreed to do it, he was a good man. It was a full three weeks before I was allowed to see him again. When I did, he could hardly bare to tell me the truth. My daughter had died two months after the birth. She had been taken back to my husband's house but she had not been treated well. She had been a small child at birth, probably because I had not been fed properly in the asylum. Once brought home to Richard, he had her put up on the top floor, and she was left alone in her crib, with simply a blanket over her and was brought milk twice a day by her father. She cried at first, or so my priest told me. He got his information from my oldest son who had tried to sneak up and help his baby sister but was caught by his father and beaten savagely. After that, none of the children or servants dared to do anything. Her cries grew quieter and weaker. One day they stopped. Her body was buried somewhere in the park, her birth and death were not registered. She never had a name. She never existed. She was never spoken of. The priest told me that he had approached my son when he had seen him out riding near the house and that the boy had given all the information freely as soon as he had been told it was meant for me. He had taken the priest to a place in the gardens, one of the ponds where it is hemmed in by trees all round but a sun trap in summer. He had followed his father and had bug his sister's body up. He had taken her to the pond and had buried her at the foot of one of the trees. He sent me a message via the priest. He asked me to send him word of what name I would have her christened, he intended to mark the grave somehow and wanted to name his sister. He also told me that he had now started to only answer to his second name, Henry. He would never again be called by his father's name.”

I was utterly dumb. I could not have spoken if the Lord himself had come out of the ground. The horror of what Bess and her children had endured had gone past all that I could have thought of. In the glass, she was silent. I could see that her eyes were far away in the past, hearing again those words from the old priest. I managed to whisper after a while.

“What name did you call her?” Bess's face was set in lines of sadness so deep that she took her time to answer, so deep in her memory's was she.

“I called her after the trees around her. I called her Willow.” I wished I could reach out to her, through the glass, take her hand and hold her, comfort her. I could do none of those things. Bess looked up and her eyes, though without tears, looked bright still and now the sadness that she had buried deep was echoed in those eyes.

“I always wished that I could have had my Willow buried with me but after so many years it was hardly possible and I did not wish to disturb her rest. I used to ask to be carried to the ponds as often as I could once I was home. Do you know the spot? Yes? If you look closely at the root of one tree, you will see that it arches up and if you look underneath you will see a small carved slab. My children did that. They pooled together their pocket money and had the local stone mason do it for them. They laid it themselves and they had their own funeral for her. They snuck out at night and had a candle lit vigil for my baby. It was a comfort in that terrible time to know that she had been properly mourned and buried. I so wish I could see that place again. It was ever my favourite spot. Nothing but trees and water and silence. Peace and the water gardens.”

I had a brain wave! I timidly asked her to trust me with something. She must think back, what had she done the night we went into the dolls house? She blinked and said she had simply allowed herself to rest, to drift since I was out of the room. I told her to do the same thing. I had an idea, I wanted to see if it would work. Would she trust me?

After she had nodded and disappeared, I got my shawl, I picked up the bottle of drops I usually took at night time and went into the craft room. I opened the dolls house and removed all of the dolls except for Bess's and mine. I sat down on the bench beside the beautiful monument to Bess and took out the bottle of drops. I usually took just a few in water. This time I took a swallow. In a few minutes my head became giddy. I laid it down on my arms and felt the waves of sleep crash over me, drag me under them.......

I awoke in the doll's house. It had worked! As I sat up, I saw Bess on the sofa opposite, also awaking. We were in the little sitting room next to her bedroom. She saw me and ran to me, pulled me to my feet. Had this been my plan? It seemed to have worked but what was the reason? I took her hand and led her downstairs. The house was empty, as I had intended. It seemed I had been right, that the dolls represented the people in the house at any one time. We passed through the front doors and round to the garden. She began to realise my intent. She began to run, picking up her skirts as she did so and I followed her slowly. She deserved to have this moment alone with her child.

I wandered about the rose garden, frost covered and still then along the lavender walk, and up towards the trees. The pool was frozen and still, the trees silver and white. Bess, in her red dress and white cloak looked like a snow princess. She was kneeling at the spot where her baby had been buried. I knelt beside her in the power fine snow and looked for myself, an arm about her.

The thick roots arched over a hollowed out spot which would be looked over if you did not know its significance. The snow had been cleared about the small slab, a rectangle no bigger than a foot square. On it was carved the words that were the only evidence of the baby's short life.

'In memory of Willow Winter Llewellyn, taken for an angel far too soon. Born October 12^th 1772, died December 2^nd 1772. Her life was short but her memory can never die.'

I held Bess close as she sobbed over the tiny grave. I let some of my own tears slip down, in company to hers. What right had I to behave as though my life were over when I still had a chance to be a mother? I had a child alive inside me at that moment, a chance to hold and care for that child, a chance that Bess had been denied. I swore to myself that from that moment, my melancholia would not stop me from doing what was right for myself and my child. Not my husband, his sister or anyone.

Bess dried her eyes. We stood and walked around the pond, our footsteps printed clearly in the snow. At first she was silent but then she asked me something.

“I wish to ask you if you will do something for me. My body is buried in Cornwall. If ever you have the chance, please remove my daughter's bones and take them to be interred with mine. I never knew her in life, in death perhaps we can be reunited.” I nodded, of course I would. I told her I would no longer malinger as I had been, I would consult the doctor and ask for his help. I would brave as she had been. I was shocked by Bess's reply. She looked a mixture of sadness and sympathy, regret and stoicism.

“It is not bravery. You think me strong but I have had no choice. To give in to misfortune would make me weak in my eyes, it would mean I had failed. It is not strength to stand against the storm of pain because there are only two choices. I could suffer and live or give in and die.”

Inside the doll's house! It was insane but the only explanation I could think of. This was no dream, no dream could be so utterly real. Gripped Bess's hands and we began to laugh wildly, as if given fresh air after so long in a dank cave. She was desperate to know how it had happened and I told her about receiving the doll's. She thought about it then asked about the other dolls, how many were there? We were struck by the same thought. If we were here, then who else was?

We went downstairs. We passed servants, who greeted us, as if we were sisters. Entering the library we found Michael who kissed me warmly and shook Bess's hand. The door opened and Lord Llewellyn entered, looking just as he had in life! He too greeted us and asked that we give them the room, they had business to discuss. We could do nothing but go out.

In the hall we heard the noises of horse outside. The butler opened the door and Rhiannon came in, dressed in her riding outfit, her hair blown loose from the wind and her cheeks flushed pink. She greeted us warmly and said she had just finished her morning ride. She would join us once she had changed then she walked upstairs to her rooms. We followed her at a distance. It was incredible but somehow I knew it was real. I was truly inside the dolls house and here Bess had a body of her own! The dead lived.

A sudden thought drowned me and I raced upstairs to where the nursery and school rooms were. On the landing was a tall curly haired boy who was accompanied by his pet wolfhound. I stopped dead in my tracks. There was no mistaking those hazel eyes and that smile. James, my son, walked up to me eagerly and held out his arms for a hug. I pressed him to me, my throat tight and my heart beating fast. It took every ounce of will to not begin to cry and frighten the boy.

“Mama, I want to go out and play in the snow. May I? I promise I will remain in the garden but the stable boys are going to have a snowball fight and I so want to join! Please say I can!” His eager voice, his bright smile and eyes, no mother could have said no. I revelled in saying yes and in telling him to remember his coat and scarf! He bounded forward and hugged me again then ran off towards his room. I was lost for words. Bess took my shoulders and drew me downstairs to the drawing room. We took a sofa and she clasped my hands in hers.

“This is real, is it not? I have not been mistaken?” she asked again. I nodded, still dumb with the delight and joy that coursed through me. My son was alive, my son was living and out playing in the snow! I had held him, I had seen his face and felt his warmth and his heart beat. I felt utter total tangible joy. My sweet son. My sweetest boy. Lord and Lady Llewellyn alive, well and hearty. Michael and I on good terms. It was a dream.

Giddy with delight I pulled Bess to her feet. I bid her come with me and get out outdoor things, we must go out into the snow! We raced each other up the stairs, got out warmest cloaks and boots, went outside into the white winter beauty of the gardens.

We walked along the path towards the gates and then saw where our dream world ended. Beyond the gates was swirling mist and darkness. We were contained within the doll's house but I cared nothing for that. I raced Bess back along the path, the two of us squealing like two school girls. We admired the house as it stood from the outside. I heard laughing and shouts from the stables and we went there, to find several stable boys, two of the grooms and some of the maids outside playing in the snow. My son was with them, laughing and helping to build a massive snowman. Catching sight of Bess and I, he raced over and pulled us both towards the group.

“Mama, Aunt Bess, help us to build this fellow! We have been trying to make him look like a man but his nose keeps falling off!” The snow head was indeed crumbling a little! I told one of the maids to go inside and fetch one of my old scarves, some coals and a carrot or two. We then used the carrot for the nose and coals to make eyes and mouth. The scarf was knotted about the snow neck, and so we had a completed man!

James and the others were pleased with our efforts, but the servants had to go back to work, with Cook calling from the kitchen door and the grooms calling the boys in. Bess and I took James inside and up to his bedroom. He was apple cheeked from the cold but in excellent spirits. He changed his clothes for they were wet from the melted snow and then we all went down to the drawing room for hot spiced wine. James petitioned to have a whole glass and I indulged him, I would have given him anything he asked. Michael and his father entered and James instantly jumped up and served them wine, asking if they thought the snow would last and eager to tell his father about our afternoon activities. Michael too indulged his son then asked him if he would sit and play at chess with his grandfather, he and I had something to see to. Bess sat beside the two at the chess board, winking to me to follow. For her, the joy of being able to sit and talk with her long lost grandson and her great great grandson was a true pleasure.

Michael drew me outside and took me into the library. He covered my eyes at the door and walked me in, the two of us laughing as we stuck in the door frame. Once inside I was allowed to regain my sight and found that what had actually been going on that afternoon was the decorating of the house. In the library were garlands of red and green and white, holly and ivy and a bowl of oranges stuck with cloves and giving off a spicy fragrance. Outside in the great hall was an enormous tree, tall and fine, decorated with more coloured garlands and candles, little decorations made from glass and coloured tin, doves and angels and soldiers, each beautifully wrought. The dining room was also decorated, the stair cases had been wrapped with red and green streamers and the air smelt of spices and fresh pine needles. I clapped my hands at the beauty of the house all lit up for Christmas. Michael looked proudly round and then asked if I would assist him to carry down the presents to the tree.

In the library were three baskets filled with wrapped gifts, for the staff and the family. We carried these out and arranged them under the tree. The clocks struck half four and then there was a rush of wheels heard outside.

Lord and Lady Llewellyn came out, followed by James. Michael and I went with them and into the hall poured Victoria and her family. Greetings were called, everyone was all smiles and enquiry about their journey. Shedding the coats and outdoor garments we all went back to the sitting room, for a cup of tea before I took our guests up to their rooms. The boys followed, James talking excitedly with his cousins about whether they might be allowed to stay up late as it was Christmas eve. Victoria and I smiled and laughed at them, both winking at each other in agreement that they would be allowed to stay up. She was all warmth and good humour, whispering to me that she had brought presents for the boys stockings which we would place later on over the bannisters.

Back downstairs we had talk aplenty, we women discussing everything and the boys plying themselves with mince tarts until we chased them into the hall where they ran about the tree and talked of nothing but presents and then perhaps a midnight snowball fight.

We went in to dine at six, the table was a delight, with candles burning everywhere and the warm spiced smell of oranges and cloves and good food wafting about. Roast beef, apple and cinnamon tart with cream, fruit and cheeses. The boys were allowed to sit up and drink wine with the meal. After dinner we retired to the sitting room together and I sat at the piano, playing carols while the family crowded around and sung together. Some of the servants were gathered at the door to listen and sing with us and the room was filled with merriment.

Later we went into the chapel, all of us, servants and family alike. Lord Robert said a Christmas eve mass, we sung and lit candles then poured out into the snow where the boys ran about in the dark throwing icy missals at each other. Back in the house we gave each servant a glass of spiced wine, asked them to celebrate with us, this magical time of the year. The boys were packed off to bed with threats against coming out of their rooms before morning. Lord and Lady Llewellyn retired for the night and while Michael and Victoria's husband set the house to rights, we women filled out our sons stockings with oranges and sugar mice and some stuffed animals, fruit and nuts, sugared plums and a nut cracker each.

In bed, Michael and I made love, with more happiness in the deed than I could ever remember. I slept happy dreams, half expecting to awake in my reality world but no! We woke and it was Christmas morning, Michael at my side.

The boys were out on the landing, calling to us to come and see what they had been brought in the night. After dressing we breakfasted and went to chapel for the Christmas day service. Then back inside to give out the presents. No one was forgotten. The maids had warm shawls and new dresses, the footmen had new shirts and pouches of tobacco. The boys crowed with delight at finding toy soldiers, new clothes and books in their presents and each of us adults had a gift or two as well.

Christmas dinner was served with joy and much merriment, James ate three plates of turkey and vegetables and I indulgently allowed him to. After dinner I retired to my bedroom for a rest. Lying on my bed, I thought of all the wonder that was here. I felt joy and contentment, all I had ever wanted. I closed my eyes and fell into a happy sleep.

When I awoke Anna was shaking my shoulder. Nurse Ruth stood in the doorway. The doll's house was on the table before me, I was back in the craft room. I had fallen asleep, would I care to take supper? I was still weak on my feet, I had to be helped into my bedroom, Bess's old bedroom. Inside I refused supper, disappointment rendering my appetite gone. The happy family, the wonderful golden time had all been a dream. My son was not playing in the snow with his cousins, he was dead in his grave. I slumped into bed, asked to be left alone. Tears coursed down my cheeks at the sorrow of finding it all a fantasy.

A noise from across the room diverted me. I went across and saw Bess reflected in the dressing table mirror. Her eyes too were bright with tears.

“Did we dream it? Was it all just a dream?” She asked. I sat a moment then made up my mind, a realisation flowing through me.

“No, we did not! We were in the doll's house together. It has come to life to give us a second chance at happiness! Oh Bess, the joy of that time! Was it as good for you?”

Bess smiled and a tear slipped down her cheek as her eyes shone.

“Imogen, I have never in my life felt so happy.”

After this extraordinary tale, related to me by a woman I saw only in my mirror, I was silent for a while. When I did speak it was to ask about the Cornish house. I explained that it had been given to me by Rhiannon. Bess's bright face lit up.

“It was a gift from my parents to me. It sits beside the sea in a small town across the bay from Plymouth. It is built over some old caves. They are invisible unless you know where to look. These were used by smugglers, who could row a small boat into the cave mouth and store their loots there! My father told me and my siblings this, he bought the house because of its history. He took us through the caves once. There are stones steps which wind up into the house. At the bottom of the steps it is like a private grotto, with the sea and the rocks and the echo off the stone.” I asked after the building itself.

“Modest, in many ways. The lowest floor has the kitchen and scullery as well as the entrance to the cave. The next floor up has the dining room and the sitting rooms. It also has a wide balcony which winds around the house in an L shape, and looks out over the water. This serves as a sort of garden area too. Above this floor are the reception room, the hall and study. Then up again to the three bedrooms and two bathrooms. Above this are some more bedrooms then the servants room up in the attic. It is a modest house, as I have said but large and tall. The town is small and quiet but has everything you could want. The beaches are fine and sandy, the sea bathing is wonderful and there are many walks and suchlike to divert you out of doors. In doors, one can read or paint, sew, watch the sea and the boats going past. You are free to do as you please, there is little ceremony there. I adored it as a child and so my parents gave it to me when I married. They knew my brother would remain in Italy, especially since he married an Italian woman. They had six children, so I heard and after my brother left the army, they bought a vineyard and settled in the country. One of my sisters became a nun and dwelt in a convent in Rome. She was still alive when I died. My other sister married one of my father's captains but they made their home on board ship. So, one way and another, the house was given to me, as the only one who would truly want it.”

I thought of that house. It sounded wonderful, peaceful yet with much to interest me. It was mine, although I could not get to it at present.

There was a knock at the door. Bess quietly disappeared from the mirror as I called out a greeting. I expected Nurse Ruth to enter but instead I saw the face of Victoria. She came in, saying that she wished to see if I were recovered. All the time she spoke, her eyes darted around the room, taking in the beauty of it. I had risen and gone to the window seat, the only place where we could both sit down. She followed me, her hands tightly clasped, the fingers knotted together. I began to worry.

She asked a few questions regarding my health, if I felt settled. She was then quiet for a moment before her purpose of visiting me burst out of her. Instead of the vindictiveness I had expected, she chose another tack. Cajoling.

“I know that when we last spoke you were not yourself. You were deep in your grief over your dear son. I understand and forgive you, as a mother myself. But I did so want to talk with you over my mother's will. My mother was very fond of you, I do know, and I realise she wanted to make you a gesture but it is truly of importance to me that I have a share of her jewels. The ring collection for instance. Many of these are utterly priceless and to me, have great emotional value. Then there is her house and the farm. The income from the property's and the value of those houses, when you live so far away, this can be of no help to you. I am asking you if you would kindly give me a share in your windfall, dear sister.”

Her eyes were hungry, calculating, despite her pleading and sweet smiling face. I felt an utter disgust towards her. I drew my hands back from hers and stood, walking away from her towards the bed. She rose also and I grasped one of the pillars of the bed, to stop myself from falling. I knew I must not shout but I could not stop the words that ground out from my mouth.

“Your mother was a wonderful woman. She suffered cruelly under her affliction but bore it with grace and dignity. It pained her greatly that her child did not write or visit, that you chose to stay away from home so much. Your father told me of this so I know it to be true. When you came after his funeral, I saw for the first time what she meant. I had no bad feelings towards you but your greed and calculation were enough to change this. You brought your sons into her bedchamber and forced me out because you wanted to persuade her to give you what you wanted. She denied you. Your children brought sickness to the house and it killed her. She would be alive yet if not for you. And when she is dead the only thing you can think of is how she gave to me what should have been yours, would have been if you had ever showed the least bit of love or kindness to her. You have shown your true nature and I think she was right to leave nothing to a snake like you.” She hissed angrily and began to argue back, in the same soft yet vehement tones as I. I would not listen. The memory of Rhiannon and my poor sweet son had got inside my mouth and turned the taste metallic and my tongue to iron.

“You brought death to my house. You killed my son and my mother with your greed. I meant what I said to you at the funeral, I hope you die of the poison in your belly, you snake. Michael may not see you clearly but I do. Now get out of my rooms. I will not see you, ever.” I was shaking with my anger. With the grip of my fury and my loss. My son, his dead face with its closed eyes, came into my heart and gripped like his fingers had gripped mine in life. Victoria's face grew further and further off until I heard Nurse Ruth's voice, dimly, telling me to open my eyes.

I was lying on the bed. I must have fainted with the memory and the anger because Victoria was still standing in a corner of the room with someone else. I dimly recognised Michael and Victoria's husband. Beside me, Nurse Ruth and Dr Crowner. The doctor was taking my pulse, the muttering of the three witches in the corner was easily heard by me in my intensely aware state that some get after a faint.

“Should have heard what she said to me......needs medical care....listen to the doctor.....utterly mad.....trying time....been unwell.....perhaps brain fever.......the baby.......may need watching......could harm herself.....” and so on. Hardly things to help me relax and recover.

The doctor smiled down at me then stood and asked if perhaps Mrs Everleigh and her husband could leave the room? He must speak with Lord Llewellyn privately. Victoria left with a very bad grace, smiling wolfishly at me. Her husband did not even glance in my direction. I was assisted to sit up by Nurse Ruth who was endeavouring to get me to drink a draft of hot spiced wine. Dr Crowner beckoned Michael forward and he came, his face a mixture of pain and coldness. The doctor began.

“I believe Lady Llewellyn became unwell when she saw Mrs Everleigh because for her, that lady is still connected with the sad business of your late son. Although I am sure Mrs Everleigh means no harm, I would recommend that perhaps she and her husband took their leave in the next day or so. You both seem to require peace and quiet to grieve and visitors are seldom useful in that situation.” Michael looked sharply at him but the doctor had said nothing that could be construed as an accusation. My husband shook his head and settled for telling Dr Crowner that his sister and brother in law were to stay another week complete, at least. They too wished to grieve for the loss of two beloved parents. The doctor bowed and then asked that, in lieu of their departing, Mrs Everleigh did not come to call upon myself except in being actually invited. It was imperative that I was given peace and quiet and time to settle myself. Michael chose this moment to ask what the doctor thought might be wrong with me.

“I believe that Lady Llewellyn has simply suffered from a weakness in the body caused by the sad business that has occurred recently. Three deaths, of such close family members, it is to be expected. I can find no evidence of specific malady or brain fever and I think that with rest and time, there will be a complete recovery. Close attention to eating well, to gaining as much rest as possible and to a calm environment will be all the cure that is needed.” My husband was quiet a moment and he did not answer the doctor's reassuring smile. When he spoke it was with another question. He asked about the baby. The doctor smiled once again, this time properly.

“All is well. The pregnancy is progressing well. I find no cause for concern whatsoever. You wife will deliver some time in June, if I am correct in my calculations. It is why I am determined she shall rest and be allowed quiet. It is not simply her health that depends on it, it is your unborn child's.” Michael finally looked at the doctor and stated that he would ensure that I was no disturbed. I had this entire floor of the house to myself, with Nurse Ruth to assist me. My maid Anna was also at my disposal and with the warmer weather would come the opportunity to go outside and enjoy the fresh air.

The doctor nodded, stated that he would return on the morrow and departed. Michael turned to Nurse Ruth and asked her to go below and see to her own supper. He wished for a private word with me. Once the door was closed behind her he paced up and down, he seemed not to know how to behave. He made a move to sit on the bed but stopped himself. I made myself reach out and pat the coverlet next to me. I wanted to make the gesture that showed I was not his enemy, whatever his sister might have told him. He sat. He reached for my hand then dropped it. When he spoke his voice not sure as usual, his words seemed to flow out in no particular order at first, a broken sequence.

“I am sorry for.....treating you as if......that is, I am glad to see you more in health that you have been. I wanted to speak to you of what passed today. I want to know the truth from your own lips. She told me that you spoke of her as a manipulative, greedy snake and that you blamed her for the deaths of my mother and James. Is this true?” I answered simply that it was so. I offered no more information, there was nothing to be said. Michael was quiet too then he stood and walked about the room again before addressing me.

“I will not have this any longer. I will not have my wife who has always been so gentle behave like this. My sister has her faults, I do not attempt to deny this but you have no right to repeat to her what you may have been told in private nor to blame her for our misfortune. Whatever her actions, she could not have foreseen what they would bring and it was out of her power to know of the illness her children carried. It was a tragic misfortune, nothing more.”

I spoke up.

“Tragic, yes. But misfortune? She cared nothing for your mother. From the first she behaved with self centred callousness. When she brought her sons to see their grandmother, she acted solely for the purpose of getting her hands on what she had no right to claim. And James....” I could not go on. My eyes burned with unshed tears. Michael suddenly wheeled round and let me see his face. His eyes were wet also, his pale face showed an emotion as deep as any mire.

“Do you think you are the only one in pain? I loved our boy, but I could not save him. No one could. I have lost my parents, I have lost my son and now my wife is drifting away from me too. You push me away with your actions as if you would burn up every shred of love left in you. You act as if this were my fault.” I saw his pain but I could not stop myself.

“You never act as if you are on my side. You never take my part. A man who loved his son would have told his sister that she should not treat me or your mother in the way she did. She would not have been welcomed. You would not have stayed away from our son while he fought for his life so valiantly. You would not have had me drugged and watched, you would have listened to me not had our beautiful son put into a cold dark tomb.....”

“His body will dwell in darkness from now until the end of the world, whether he lies in the ground or in the crypt. You were and are being irrational. He is where he belongs now.”

“He does not belong in darkness! He belongs in the sun, the fresh air, with the wind or the rain on his face! Not to lie in some stagnant cold mausoleum.”

Michael's face finally softened a little and he came to me, knelt before me so our faces were at equal hight and spoke thus.

“Our son is dead. Nothing will ever change that. His body is all that remains of him on this earth, his soul is with God. Our son is dead. Words will not change that fact. We loved him and he is gone before he ever could become a man. You act as though you are the only one in pain. You do not suffer alone, I promise you that. But you will if you do not start acting as if you were in your right mind. I have lost my father, I have lost my mother, I have lost my son. Must I lose my wife too?”

I was touched to the core by his words. The utter desolation of James's death had weighed heavily on him too. I had lost a woman who had been a true friend and a son who I would miss every day for the rest of my life. I had thought that Michael had deserted me but perhaps he thought I had deserted him too. I reached for him and brought him close, made myself kiss his forehead and tell him I would try to remember myself in future. He remained cool towards me but there was no animosity. He sat beside me again and continued.

“I will tell my sister she is not to disturb you unless I am present and you have agreed to the meeting. I will tell her that our mother's will is not to be contested and that you will keep what she left you. I only ask that you give some little offering to her, as a gesture of reconciliation. I do not tell you to do this, I ask you to do this. Will you think on it?” I could only nod. He deserved this. He was stuck with his sister for life in a way that I was not. I told him that I would pick out something for her in the coming days. I would go through his mother's belongings and catalogue them. It would be something to do. He was pleased by my cooperation and what he must have seen as my thawing to Victoria. He wished me goodnight and said he would see me the next day.

When he had gone I went quickly to the mirror. Bess was not there, nor in the room anywhere. I wondered if I had dreamt this whole thing. I went next door into the craft room. Lighting the lamps I could observe the doll's house, lovely and redolent of so many memory's. On the table beside it was a large wooden box with an envelope atop it. This bore my name. I opened it and unfolded the thick cream paper inside. It read thus.

My dearest Imogen

I have started this letter a dozen times and no words seem adequate to express my sadness at hearing of the events which have befallen you. To lose your mother in law is a great trial but to lose that bright sweet lad, I have no way to say how this makes me feel.

When last we spoke I was cruel to you. I have not changed my mind but I regret how I treated you. The past days I have done nothing but think of you and wondered how you are in this unhappy time with no friend to comfort you. I have nothing to give you, no words of comfort and no caresses. I can only give you what little I have, the work of my hands.

I have made you something which I hope will be taken as the gift I mean it to be. I have created some more dolls for your collection. The first you will recognise right away. The second is your mother in law as she looked when young. The third is what I imagined your son would look like when he was a boy of ten.

I hope that this letter reaches you and that you find some of the comfort that I am desperate to send you. I offer you my friendship, when I can offer nothing more.

Yours

Stephen.

I put the letter down and opened the box. The dolls were packed carefully in wood shavings, a smell of clean apple wood came from the box. The first doll was undoubtedly Bess, dressed in her red gown and looking almost exactly as I had seen her in the mirror. The second was a young Rhiannon, as in her portrait in the gallery. She was dressed in her riding outfit.

My son was the last doll. Smaller than the others, he wore clothes in dark green and cream, trousers and shirt and jacket. His curly hair had been beautifully done, his mouth smiled and the black painted eyes were cunningly drawn. The sight of him did cheer me in a forlorn way. At least I had a little piece of him.

I decided to place all of the dolls within the doll's house. I put Michael and his father in the study. I put my own doll into my bedroom. I placed the servants around the house and then carefully put James as a young boy into the school room. I put the doll of him as a baby into the nursery. I put Bess into the bedroom with me, imagining us talking as we had before. Rhiannon I gave pause to. I rose and walked carefully downstairs.

I went to the abandoned nursery. Inside the cot and coverings had gone, as had clothes and some toys. I deliberately passed these without looking and opened the box of new toys he had never played with. I removed the horse made from tin I had bought him and took it upstairs.

I placed Rhiannon on her horse and put them in the stable yard. The perfect family now. I looked at the dolls house. It was lovely. I stared at it for a time. My eyes became heavy and I knew I should go to bed but I remained where I was, my arms and legs too heavy to lift, the tiredness was almost pleasurable. My eyes shut for longer with each blink. I closed them for a moment.

I awoke in the bedroom. I was no longer in my shawl and plain dark mourning dress. The gown I wore was of deep red cloth, I wore Rhiannon's ruby ring and my ruby cross. My hair was dressed in its old plaited knot style. My shoes were black velvet slippers.

I turned and saw that instead of night time, the sun streamed through the windows. It gleamed on the winter snow. The bedroom had a garland of holly on the mantle. I went from my room and into the craft room. The doll's house was gone! It was now the sitting room from long ago, sofas, tables and vases of winter flowers. On one such sofa, Bess was sitting in another red gown much like mine. She was looking around her wonderingly.

When I entered she ran to me and caught me in her arms. She was real! I felt her weight and warmth.

“Do you know?;” she asked breathlessly, “do you know what has happened? What magic have you wrought? We are inside the doll's house! We are inside the doll's house we have built!”