The Edge

My husbands hot sour breath was against my ear when he shouted at me again.

“What is the meaning of this?”

He moved away, standing beside me while I knelt and managed to take up the paper.

“My dearest Imogen

I am sorry. I know I should not write to you and I know I have been wrong in every thing since I met you but I must send you one last letter.

I am to marry in one week. My bride to be is as beautiful as ever, our families are delighted and the preparations are all in hand. This day I went to see the priest who said that I must take confession before my wedding so that I come to the alter clean and pure for marriage. He asked me to confess any sins, however small, so that my soul will be ready for my bride. I hesitated.

That hesitation told me that however I may pretend to the contrary, I have treated you as no man should ever treat a woman that he is acquainted with. I have treated you badly, I have treated you falsely. I feel as though there will be a stain on my soul forever if I do not confess to you that I want your forgiveness. I told this to Father John and he said that I must first ask forgiveness from you then from God.

I know that we can never meet again in this world. I know that I have done you wrong but I beg that you forgive me for my sins. I beg that you will write me a few words, a line, to tell me that you forgive me. I swear that I shall stand your friend as long as I live, if you will grant me this wish. If ever you are in need, I will assist you. If ever you require me to do you the least service or if your children need it also, I will perform any task you may require.

I hope that my letter finds you in good health and I hope that you will remember the love we once bore for each other and will write me those few lines that I will treasure for the rest of my life.

All my love

Stephen.

I looked up from that miserable letter to my husband. He was standing over me, his whip in one hand. I felt my thoughts tumbling over each other like stones on a river bed and I could not speak. Michael's temper broke and he brought the whip down sharply on my shoulders.

The bite from it made me wail. He grasped my hair again and held me upright by it, lashing my shoulders with the horse whip until I felt as though I must faint. He let me go and I tumbled to the floor, my back was on fire and heat swarmed through my bones from the pain. Michael stood over me and repeated his question. I made myself speak, it was the only way to stop more beatings. My voice was unsteady, the pitch was high from fear and pain but I had found it.

“I have done nothing. I may have felt some stirring of emotion but no more. He....he proclaimed love to me and I refused him. He and I had no more than that.” Michael was unconvinced.

“You expect me to believe that? Do you think I am stupid or unworldly? No, madam, it is you that are the fool in this! No man writes such a letter to a woman who has simply refused him. This is what a man writes when he has enjoyed a woman's gifts and then left her. This is what a man writes when he has been guilty of a greater sin than simply proclaiming love and when he wishes to cleanse his conscience!” I dropped my head, I could not speak again. I was shaking, head to foot, shaking and stunned. Michael gripped me under the chin and wrenched me up so that I had to look at him. His eyes flayed my face, searching for the truth. They gleamed with a cruelty and a malice and an anger than I had never imagined to see in a human man.

“So! It is as I thought! You have been unfaithful to me and with that man! You have given yourself like a common whore. What else have you done? Is this thing in your belly mine or his? Do you even know?” He threw me backwards onto the carpet and I scuttled away from him like a crab until my back was against the door. I reached for the handle and rattled it, screaming for help until he came up behind me and dragged me away from the door. He dragged me to the bed and then he slapped me across the face.

The sting of it shocked me and stopped my desperate cries. He slapped me again, on either side of my face, until I was unable to feel it any more from the heat in my cheeks. He looked down at me and raised up his whip again. I heard it whistle through the air and then an agony that tore through me, through my face, a rush and something wet on my cheeks that was hot and unlike tears. I remember hearing my screams and sobs, I remember rolling away from Michael, I remember hearing the door open and people rush in. Michael was giving orders that no one was to think of letting me leave my room, even while I heard Jones trying to calm him, his valet too and Thomas. I had women with me, I heard Mrs Levin calling for water, dressings and her medicine chest. Strong arms were lifting me, supporting me, I felt people around me trying to open my eyes but the pain in my face was so cruel that I sobbed louder. Above all I felt my belly rocking like a ship on the sea, the little flutters of my precious child as it kicked inside me to make me listen to it. I heard, in its tiny movements, the cry of “stay alive! Stay alive” and I tried to answer, to focus on that tiny movement and nothing else. I was swept down into my own consciousness by that infinitely sacred bond and I felt the waves close over my head.

I awoke after what felt like years. The room was aglow with candle light, I could feel its warmth and the soft shimmer of the lamps. My face was hot with a shuddering pain that stripped me to the bone. I could only open one eye and I raised a hand. I felt dressings covering one half of my face, the left side was completely shrouded in soft cloths. A hand reached out and stopped my fingers from exploring more. Mrs Levin spoke from the side of my bed.

“Gently, my lady, you must not touch. It may further inflame your wounds. Here, drink this.” And a cup was placed to my lips, arms from the other side of the bed lifted me up. I turned and saw Sarah, the housemaid, holding me up while Mrs Levin bad me drink some spiced wine. I tasted something under the rich nutmeg. Once I was done drinking, Sarah propped me up on soft pillows. I could feel her shaking. Mrs Levin touched my forehead and asked the girl to fetch some more cool cloths. I looked at her for answers. Her sad face touched me deeply.

“You have slept for only a few hours, my lady. I had hoped that you might sleep more. Was it the pain woke you? Aye, I thought as much. I am afraid I can offer you nothing more than the strong wine, fortified with some herbs from my medicine chest. Your lord husband will not allow me to send for the doctor. Here is Sarah with the cloths, let me see if I can cool you a little.”

She bathed the clear side of my face, then my neck. The coolness was welcome and I asked why I was so hot. My mouth seemed unable to move properly, my left cheek was stiff and the effort made the fire lance down me.

“Be still. You must not move. I have dressed your wound as best I can but I fear it needs a surgeon. When...when he struck you, his whip opened your cheek and it bit deeply. I have attempted to sew it closed and it is holding but I am afraid...I am afraid that you will be left with a long scar. And I could do nothing for your eye.”

I started, my eye?

“The whip caught your eye and caused severe bleeding. I am very much afraid that you may have been blinded, my lady. I am so sorry, I have done what I could but Master will not allow me to fetch help. Sarah and I have done our best and stayed with you. Mrs Evans is outside the door, she will not let anyone past. No one else has been allowed to interfere. I am so sorry, my lady.”

She laid her hand on mine and I could see, with my remaining eye, that she was almost in tears herself. Sarah, on my other side, was shaking with sobs. I reached my other hand out to the girl and she took it, clasped it tightly and kissed it. Mrs Levin spoke again, just as my baby moved inside me.

“The child is still moving within you and I praise God for that. You have not been harmed in that way and the babe is safe. I have made sure of it and it moves still, and strongly. It is alive and we must take comfort in that.”

Mrs Levin squeezed my hand and then, with a lowered voice, told me more.

“Do not attempt to speak, my lady. I know what you wish to ask. I gave your letter to the doctor, as you asked and he told me that he would come as soon as he could. When I got back, I got to you as soon as I heard what was happening but Master has forbidden any more assistance. I fear he will not even allow Dr Crowner to see you. He informed me that you are to be sent away within a few days. I have told him you are not well enough to travel but he would not listen. Mrs Evans is to go with you. I have done what I could but I am afraid that you must do as he wishes. I am truly sorry, my lady.” I nodded, the movement made the pain worse and I sobbed out loud. Mrs Levin got up and I heard her rummaging then she came back with a bottle.

She measured a small amount into a glass of water and bade me drink.

“Some of your sleeping drops, to aid your rest. I think it best that you sleep again now.” Just then, I heard heavy footsteps outside the door then it opened and Mrs Levin and Sarah stood up. Michael had come in. He must have been at the end of my bed, I kept my eyes closed. I could not look at him.

“Well, Mrs Levin? How is she?”

“Very poorly, my lord. I beg again, please let me send for Dr Crowner. Her Ladyship is in risk of fever, infection, there is also the child.....please let me send for help.”

“Mrs Levin, I said that I myself would send for help if and when I deem it necessary. Please do not attempt to argue any more. Now, is she awake?”

I forced my eye open and looked at him. He was indeed at the end of my bed. I stared at him, this man who I had loved and who had now scarred me forever. He spoke with a calm voice that shook with malice.

“Madam, you will leave this place in a few days. I do not choose you to remain here. I also do not choose to have anything of yours left in this house and that includes that object which you spent so much time over and which allowed you to break your marriage vows. It will be destroyed right away, along with every doll, every stick of furniture and every rag that you ever touched in that room. Now sleep, if you can, and think on your wickedness.” And so saying, he strode out.

Sarah started to sob again and Mrs Levin bent over me. My eye was swimming with tears and I felt my baby kick agitatedly at my belly. I took another sip of the sleeping draft and I felt the waves begin to close again and the pain receded......

Bess! I was in the dolls house, in her bed with her bending over me! I sat up, mindless of the pain that flowed through me. My head swam. Bess held me tight, her voice in my ear.

“Oh my dearest! I am so sorry! I cannot believe...oh, Imogen, your sweet face!” I hugged her close.

“Bess, he is burning the doll's house! He is destroying all of the dolls! What will you do?”

“Get away! I will not stay in the house. Come, I have a bundle of clothes packed up for you!”

She took out a cloak and put it about my shoulders. Soft white wool. She put on a bonnet then fixed mine for me. She had a small bundle under one arm. With her other she helped me to my feet. The effort made my head swim and I sagged against her.

“Be strong! You must, for my sake and your babies and for yours!” I managed to move my feet, leaning on her, I followed her out of the bedroom and down the stairs. It was silent, not noise came from the rooms anywhere.

As we reached the top of the stairs into the great hall, I heard shouts from outside and I could have sworn that one was Michael's. Bes nodded.

“Listen, my love, listen and do what I tell you. This house is not going to survive this and nor will I. I do not mind. I think that now I am going to finally go up to God, to my final resting place. I think that this is why I was made to stay so long, I was meant to help you in this last moment. This doll's house is a doorway to escape for you. I have your bundle that you packed for your escape. I am taking you to the door and then you must run through the garden. Run until you find the doctor. Run, my sweet. You will be out of the house and away from that brute you married. I know it! I know it is insane but I believe it to be true. This doll's house will burn and as it does, if you are out in its garden, you will also be out in the real world, in the open and able to escape.”

I could only stare at her, it seemed too fantastical to be true.

“Listen, Imogen. If I am wrong then you will wake in your bed and may God have mercy on you. I know that I am right! I was meant to save you! That was what I was sent here to do. Please, do not stop and stare but do as I tell you!”

She pulled me to my feet, I stumbled against her as she half carried me down the stairs. I could smell a burning smell and I saw that the ceiling was on fire! Flames danced across the hall where we had just been and smoke rushed from the rooms on either side. Bess dragged me out of the front doors and onto the lawn.

From there I could see the house we had created, burning and smoking in the darkness. Flames were at all of the windows and shimmered through the broken roof. I turned to Bess and saw her staring up at the inferno. With a shock I realised that she was no longer solid but transparent, like a true ghost. She turned to me and kissed me, held me close and her tears joined my own.

“May God bless you, my best, my last friend. Think on me and smile, for I am truely thankful for meeting you.” She pushed me away and I felt her hands disappear. Her arms were going too and her legs, her gown. Her face looked at me and her eyes shone like diamonds one last time before the rest of her vanished and was gone.

I looked towards the house but it was gone too, vanishing like a mirage in the dark night.

I began to stumble, like a sleep walker, down the drive towards the gate. I could remember nothing but that I must walk though where to was a mystery to me. My face was agony, my exposed cheek was wet with tears and so my right side was ice, my left fire. Behind me and beside me the gardens were vanishing, the bushes and lawns, the gravel beneath my feet. I staggered onwards, weeping, terrified, unable to look back any more. I tripped in the darkness and my bundle fell to the walk beneath me, as my hands reached out to break my fall.....

I fell onto grass. Cold wet grass. There was wind and rain and I could hear the noise of trees. I looked up and I was on the drive, the real drive, I was out in the park. I looked back. The house stood there, windows lit on the upper and lower floors. It was real, it was solid. My face hurt terribly, my body felt weak and stiff from pain and cold.

Bess had been right. Unaccountable as it was, she had been right. I was away from my bed, from that room, from Michael and out in the dark and the cold. My child inside me moved and reminded me that I needed to walk.

I picked up my bundle and got to my feet. I was hardly able to take a step but I did it. My head spun and I tried to keep upright but I felt so faint that I had to go back down to the ground. Clutching the bundle, I lay there, racked with pain. I heard the rain and the wind and noises like hoof beats......

Then a shout and the noise of a horse. An arm went around me and I was lifted up. I saw a little dog cart, I saw the familiar horse. I saw Daniel! His face a mask of horror, alarm and disbelief. I felt him take me towards the dog cart, I was handed in. I saw the face of a man who I must have known but who I could not name at that moment. I was too much beside myself. Between the two men I was propped upright. The dog cart was turned around and I saw my last of that miserable house. Not in flames but clear in the night, with lit windows and streaming rain. No Bess and no fog, nothing left of the past.

I saw my last and was driven away.

My unfailing love for you will not be shaken.

Who had chosen that verse? It sounded unlike my husband. Who else could have chosen it? I did not know but who ever it was, they had chosen well. It marked my sentiments entirely.

I thought on this back up in my room, beside the wide window. I wanted to look out at the world, at the view which I would soon leave forever, God willing. I let my hands be busy over my work and my thoughts be busy over the words on my son's grave and on whether the letter would reach Daniel that night. Mrs Evans was out of the room currently and I was sorely in want of something to take my mind from my own troubles.

I must be ready to leave soon. What must I do before that time? Chose which trinkets to bring with me, burn Bess's old diary’s, somehow find a way to gather her daughter's remains for reburial in Cornwall. And I must say farewell to Bess herself.

Shaking off the maudlin thoughts which crowded me at this point, I decided to try the easiest of these tasks that day. I would chose the keepsakes and get the diary’s burnt.

The books were kept in the false bottom of the wardrobe and I took advantage of Mrs Evans absence to get these out. There were numbered around thirty, each identical to the next but apparently stored in order of date. They each had a mottled crimson covers in soft leather, embossed in black with the crest first of Bess's own family then of the Llewellyns. The crest of Bess's family was a lion crowned by a star, the Llewellyn's was a formal coat of arms with three stag's heads on a shield topped with a coronet.

Taking out the first of the volumes I opened it at random, near the middle.

“...my lessons. I know not why I should care so little for but all I know is that I do care little. Arithmetic is not for me. I will have a housekeeper and a steward, they shall be the guardians of my money! What need have I of arithmetic? Yet here is dear Mrs Alger, set on forcing me to mind my lessons and so I sit for hours utterly dumbfounded.”

I turned a few pages and read on.

“Papa is finally home from his voyage! He had to stop some time longer for fierce storms were raging at the Cape. He brings with him many gifts as usual, more than usual in fact. He arrived at noon in time for luncheon and so lessons were broken off for the day. Dearest Mama insisted that we let Papa rest but he was so jolly that we begged for a few games at cards and he indulged us! Then after cards and luncheon, talking for hours about what he had seen and then presents!

He brought us word of Grandfather and Grandmother in Italy. They do well, send their love and some little presents of fine fabrics and books. Mama was sent a special letter from Grandmother which she tucked into her pocket to read later. Papa said that he is happy with the merchandise that he has acquired from Egypt and told us of seeing much of sand but not of pyramids. He sailed from thence and stopped at Turkey and then rounded the coast of Italy and stopped to see our family there. From there he journeyed to Tunisia and Morocco then rounded the Cape and up the coast of Spain and France!

Next, the presents! I received a beautiful dress from my grandparents, in a rich brocade of deep pink trimmed with silver and Venetian lace! It is so lovely, I think I shall wear it to the Logan's dance next month. From Papa, I have a pretty little black wood stool from Morocco, along with some lovely silver and jewelled bracelets. He also gave me a pretty carved box from Turkey containing a little vial of rosewater. He told me that Turkish roses are the best in the world. I am wearing the rosewater now...”

I flipped onwards.

“...could not understand it. He is someone Papa knows through his business but he has not been to the house before. I think that he must have been to dinner with Mama and Papa though, for she greeted him as if she knew him well and then pushed me forward as if I were a prize goose being shown at the market! He was perfectly courteous but I think him too old.”

This must be Lord Richard! She had to be talking of when they had first met. I read on.

“Lord Llewellyn came to dinner again today. Mama came to tell me so this morning and she was most particular about my wearing my best gown. We looked through them together and she picked out the new one from my grandparents. At dinner, I was seated beside our guest and I felt so nervous that I could scarcely eat a thing. He made me nervous, not by anything he said so much as how he looked at me and how my parents looked at us both. I believe a match is being made for me.”

A page on.

“I was right! Mama and Papa called me to the sitting room this morning and informed me that Lord Richard Llewellyn had asked for my hand and Papa had given his consent. I am afraid that I distressed them both by starting to cry. I was overwhelmed and I refused to stay in the room but ran up to my own bed chamber and locked the door. I am there now. What should I do? Lord Richard is wealthy, a friend of my father and not bad looking. But he is so old! He looks so cold and hard. What should I do? What should I do?”

A few more pages onwards.

“I gave my reply to Papa today that I will obey and marry Lord Richard. Mama was so proud when I agreed. She has been so kind in her guidance. She and Papa kissed me and told me I was their angel for being so good. They told me he will give me beautiful strong children, that he will be faithful, that he has a wonderful home in Wales which is close enough so I can come to visit them. I hope they are right. I must try to love him. I must let my parents wishes guide me.”

I put the volume down. If only Bess had followed her own instinct! Oh how different it would have been. I turned on a few more pages. I was near the end of this volume now.

“I have seen the dressmaker and she measured me for my wedding dress today. She told me I have the smallest little waist for a shapely girl that she has ever seen! Then she made some comments which made her assistant giggle and my faithful Mrs Alger blush. I did not understand them. I know nothing of what a wife must do for her husband when they are alone. I know nothing of being a wife beyond running the servants and that I must bare him children. I asked Mrs Alger about wifely duties once the others had gone and she blushed again and said she would tell me closer to the wedding. Not so long to wait, only three weeks.”

On two pages.

“My dress is finished and my trousseau is sewn. All is ready. The cards for my new life are arrived, the church is booked and in two days I am to become Lady Llewellyn and leave my parents house. I have spent only a few hours alone with my husband, mostly while out walking with Mrs Alger a few steps behind so that we are chaperoned. I am glad she has been there but I still feel as though I knew nothing of my husband to be. He told me of his home, it does sound lovely. He talks of religion, of countries and has told me of his former desire to join the priesthood. He talks of current events, he tells me I look pretty. He never tells me of his love or his thoughts nor do his eyes soften. I pray that he will not be so cold once we are married.”

A page on.

“Mrs Alger told me today of wifely duties. She blushed all through and when she was done, I still felt all confused. I hope that my husband understands matters a little better. Mrs Alger’s report of seeds and pods and suchlike does not seem to bare any resemblance to reality. I know that I must be naked and that he will want to touch me. I know that he will enter me and that I must submit. I know it is likely to be painful the first time, that I might bleed. It all seems very frightening. I hope my husband will be gentle. I do indeed.”

I was unable to read any more. The words of the innocent girl, betraying in each line her youth and her purity and her fear of what was to come, those words touched me deeply and stopped me reading on. I did not want to find out how her illusions had been shattered and how hope had failed her. It was too much, I could not do it. What right had I to be so fearful when she had suffered so much more? I would burn these books and then no one else could be hurt by the painful words of a woman whose life had been utterly crushed by the brutality of her husband. I quickly gathered up the books and took them over to the bedroom fire which was blazing brightly. I ripped the pages from the covers and threw them in handfuls onto the flames. It took me almost twenty minutes but n the end I had a pile of empty covers and a smouldering grate of ashes. I put the covers back into their little hidden spot.

I was just in time for footsteps were coming up the stairs and I closed the wardrobe doors in a hurry, banging my head against the heavy wood in my haste. Mrs Evans entered to find me seated on the floor holding my temple. For once she looked surprised and I informed her that I had been clumsy. She assisted me to rise and surveyed me doubtfully. I had decided that she had no idea of what to do in a genuine case of illness of accident. After a pause she said that I should sit quietly and be mindful of any headaches.

I sat back in the window and was about to take up my work when I saw my husband on his horse arriving home. He rode up to the front of the house and I heard the far away doors open and shut. I sighed and thought heavily that it was unlikely that I would ever be able to talk properly with Michael and that we were hardly likely to ever speak much again. It was a sobering thought. The man who I had given myself to with such hope and desire was now the man of all others who I could not love. What would he do when I was gone? He would find me, more than likely but could he make me come back without raising a scandal about his treatment of me? Would he care enough to do so? I thought it unlikely. He clearly had no further use for me. However I was his wife and therefore his property in the eyes of the law and of society. I was legally his and he was bound to do with me as he wished, short of killing me. He could send me away himself but running was my only option. Once I was away from him, the threat of exposure might keep him silent and make him allow me my freedom on certain terms. He might even wish to be rid of me entirely.

What would he do then? An annulment, if it were possible? Were there grounds for it? I thought hard and tried to remember my scant knowledge of the legality of marriage. I could not see that an annulment would be possible under English law. Divorce was unthinkable, expensive and the only way to acquire one was to prove.......to prove that one of us had committed adultery!

I was frozen with the shock of that thought. If Michael knew of my sin then he could divorce me. I would be an unclean woman, dead to society and dead to all who would want to be near me. My child would be taken away. Daniel would be ostracised, cast out. We would not be able to stay in the British Isles! No, no, I must not think it. He could not find out, there was no chance of it.

I made myself relax, made my breathing become even. I must be calm. In my belly, my baby kicked and moved. I placed a hand on it and rubbed at the roundness there. I made myself be calm.

A noise from outside made me look up. A trap was approaching up the drive, it was the one used by the servants. I pulled up and I saw the figure of Mrs Levin step out. She must have just returned from my errand! Had she got the letter to Daniel? I was unable to sit still, I got up and walked about the room, pretending that the baby's movements were making me agitated.

I must get away and soon. Once away I could tell Michael that I would make no further demands on him if he agreed to have our marriage annulled or put aside. His recent cruelty in locking me up would be my bargaining tool. The law still protected women from cruelty and it was all I had to use against him.

All at once I heard a shouting from below and there were sounds of thumps, of running feet and the shouting came nearer. It was Michael and he was coming upstairs in a fearful rage. I heard someone, a man but I knew not whom, trying to reason with him calmly but he cursed and I heard sounds of a scuffle then his feet were on the stairs and then outside my door. This burst open to reveal him still in his riding clothes, carrying his horse whip in one hand and a letter in the other. He bellowed at Mrs Evans to get out and take herself downstairs, to see that no one came up while he was with me. She fairly ran out of the room, shooting me a frightened and genuinely apprehensive glance. She clearly knew nothing of what had put him in such a rage.

Alone with my husband I actually wished to have Mrs Evans back again. His face was red with fury, his eyes were wide and wild, he was shaking from head to foot from his emotion! He slammed shut my bedroom door and turned the key. With no way of escape I faced him, he was like a mad dog. He terrified me. He lifted up the letter in his hand and his words made me more terrified still.

“What have you been doing, you evil whore? What s the meaning of this letter?” I could not see it and I went forward to try and take it but he grasped me by the hair and threw me onto the carpet, twisting my head so that I was forced onto my hands and knees before him. He dropped the paper onto the floor and pushed me up against it so that I could barely focus on the words. I could only see one sentence clearly.

“With all my love, Stephen”.

Until that moment I had not realised just how much she hated me. I did not know that her misery and her years upon years of sadness and despair over her parents lack of love had managed to twist her so. Inside she was still the little girl who felt rejected by everyone apart from her older brother. The little girl who never managed to be quite what her parents had wanted and who had escaped her own misery and loneliness by forging her own path. She had a husband and children, money and status, everything she wanted but she could never have the one thing that she wanted most. Her parents were dead and in her last days, it was me that her mother had turned to and not the daughter of her own blood.

Did I feel guilty? No. I did not. This sad tale had already been written long before I married Michael. By then Victoria had already been long gone from home. She had never come back. Her choice, although I could not blame her. I had never wondered what Lord Robert had been like as a younger man, as a father. I knew that he had loved his son, in a gruff way. He had never shown it but I knew there was pride there. Rhiannon had loved her children but except in her last months, she had been quiet because of her illness. I knew she had been vibrant but could not imagine her as a mother.

I remembered her words to me though. 'You are the true daughter that I should have had.' Her words, sad sad words, words which showed how little empathy there was between her and Victoria. There had been suffering on both sides and it had not been talked of and so it had festered. How much better it would have been if they had spoken of it. They had not and it had taken root inside Victoria. Her pain and her loneliness and her regret and her anger had turned themselves onto me.

She would take away everything from me. I knew she meant that. She wanted her brother and her home and her family to herself. I was in the way. I must get to Daniel and then go from this place! I stood up and decided to find the house keeper, my last line of communication with the outside world.

I saw no sign of Mrs Evans in the corridor and so I slipped as quickly as I could along to the housekeepers room. Mrs Levin was sat in her parlour, reading. When I came in, she started, put down her book and stood up and curtseyed. What could she do for me? I asked if I might sit down and have a few private words with her? She gave me a seat beside the fire, made sure I was comfortable and shut the door carefully. Sitting down opposite to me, she leaned forward and waited.

I asked if she knew what I had been doing that morning? She nodded, yes, she had happened to pass by the door of the morning room and had inadvertently heard Mrs Eveleigh and myself having a conversation. Her pinched lips showed that she had also heard not just the tone of the conversation but the content as well and she disapproved. I decided to throw caution to the wind, I was desperate and this woman was a good kind person, I felt sure she would help me. I leant forward.

“Mrs Levin, I know that you have been housekeeper here for a long time. You are well respected and with good reason. When I came here you were always so helpful to me in finding my place as lady of this house and I have always regarded you as an equal. I believe that the Late Lord Robert ad his good wife thought of you in the same way as they left you a legacy for your loyal service. It is well deserved and it is partly because of their inferred regard that I am speaking with you today. I ask that you make allowances for my discussing matters that to anyone else but you,as the most respected friend and confidential servant, would be kept private.

Last year when my husband and I began to have troubles, you were kind enough to help me and to support me through a very difficult time. Since then you have always behaved with the same kindness and your conduct has been exemplary. I wished to thank you for this first of all, to give you my heart felt thanks and to tell you that you have been truly invaluable to me and to this family.” Mrs Levin bowed her head and murmured that I was too good as to say so but that she accepted my praise. Indeed, she was sure she always tried to do what was right and good by everyone. I rushed on, I could feel that she was listening to me keenly, waiting for what I would say.

“Mrs Levin, you know that for weeks past I have been kept under guard and away from the rest of the house, under pretext of my being unwell. You know that good Nurse Ruth, who is known in the community as a woman to be trusted at her job, was sent away with little warning and that Mrs Evans, who has taken her place, is not a woman to be trusted with any patient.”

Mrs Levin held up on hand and stopped me.

“Pardon me, your Ladyship, but I must beg to explain that I have never said so. Mrs Evans is perhaps not so skilled a nurse as Ruth Riley but I am sure that she is a nurse who can be trusted, although perhaps not with giving medicines.”

“I understand your point and accept this. You were kind enough to be present after my fainting fit and heard from Sarah that Mrs Evans had given me something not proscribed and that Dr Crowner thought it highly inappropriate. You were good enough to speak out and say that she should not maid me either as she was not qualified at that and that you disliked my being shut up.” Mrs Levin nodded her head at this.

“I do recall that, your Ladyship, and I stand by those comments. It was highly improper and while I dislike your use of the words 'shut up', they are accurate, at all events.”

“You have been good enough to speak for me in a trying time and I thank you again for that. I want to ask you to do something more for me, I know you will think me strange but I beg that you will take a letter down to Dr Crowner for me. I beg that you will take it to him and give it to him only, with your own hands. That you will stay with him while he reads it and then bring back his reply.” I stopped out of breath. Mrs Levin was thoughtful and she had a deep cleft of worry between her eyes.

“My lady, I think that the post bag can be trusted with a letter?” I shook my head.

“Please, I beg you! The post bag is not safe. I fear....I fear that my letter will be kept back and opened and used against me!”

Mrs Levin looked shocked. Suspicion clouded her face and she seemed to grow colder towards me.

“My lady, I think you are suffering under a mistake. No one in this house is against you....” I broke in, catching hold of her hands imploringly.

“Mrs Levin, I beg you to listen! I am not under a mistake and you know it! You walked past the door and heard something of the conversation with Mrs Eveleigh. You must know that she dislikes me? You know that there is at least one person in this house who is against me. You know that I have been virtually a prisoner under guard in my rooms, that my husband has almost forsaken me. I ask you to do nothing which is against your principals, I only ask that you take a letter to the doctor for me. He is a respectable man, you know and trust him, do you not? Please, please do this little thing for me, in the name of God, will you?”

Mrs Levin had pulled back from me but now she leaned forward again and her face softened.

“My lady, I do not pretend to understand this but I do believe you are disliked by some in this house. I think you are much too frightened but this is perhaps because of being kept upstairs. You must think more clearly, I really think you must not be so violent with your words! A letter is merely a letter. I will take it for you, if it means so much but do not grow so unhappy! You are shaking head to foot, your hands grip mine too hard. I really think I should call for Mrs Evans.....” So saying, she stood and went to ring the bell. I grasped her skirt as she went past and she looked down at me in surprise.

“Please, please will you trust me? Will you take my letter and not tell anyone but the doctor of our conversation? Will you swear to it? Will you?” She came back and knelt before me, stroking my hands.

“I promise to take your letter and tell no one of this matter. Now do sit still and be quiet a little. You are quite overwrought. And do not fear Mrs Evans so. She is perhaps a singular person, quite strange in her habits but she is still just a woman, one of God's children. There is little to fear in that. Now give me the letter.”

I handed it to her and she tucked it into her work bag. After promising that she would deliver it that afternoon, she rang the bell and had Mrs Evans summoned. By then I had managed to stop most of the shaking although I still trembled from time to time.

“Her Ladyship is a little out of sorts, I fear. Please would you be so good as to take her outside to walk in the gardens. It is chill but the wind has dropped and there is no rain. Take her out for half an hours fresh air, it will doubtless do her good.”

My and my 'nurse's bonnets and cloaks were brought. I said good day to Mrs Levin and was taken out into the garden. Mrs Evans was her usual self but, inspired by Mrs Levin's look on the world, I managed to be calmer and proposed that we walked over to the hothouse to gather some flowers to place by my son and his grandparents tomb. We walked side by side, not speaking.

Once at the hot house I gathered some blooms and arranged them into a pretty posy. The warm air smelt of earth and leaves and the acrid scent of things growing. It was so different from the world outside. As I went about my work Mrs Evans walked sedately about the place, looking at this flower and that, her eyes hardly leaving me. Once I was finished she escorted me around to the burial ground and I placed the flowers against the tomb where my son and his grandparents and ancestors lay.

Ignoring Mrs Evans, I knelt and shut my eyes, placing my hands on the stone tablet which had newly been inscribed with James name and the dates of his birth, death and a quote from the scriptures. Isaiah 54:10. I did not open my eyes to see the inscription or the grey stone of the tomb. I let my hands feel the cold smooth surface and the hard cut lines of the words that were written there. I tried to fix in my mind the feeling of my sons tomb stone, so that when I left I could remember how it looked.

A hand gripped my shoulder, fingers colder than the stone. I did not open my eyes still, I knew that it was Mrs Evans who was bent over me, like some old crone wishing me ill. I heard her hissing breath in my ear when she spoke.

“I freeze in this cold wind. Hurry and make your prayer, I wish to go back inside. And do not try to vex me or escape me by hiding in the house keepers room or by trying to weasel your way into Mrs Eveleigh's good graces. It will not work. I know your little tricks. I am watching you. So tell that to God and let him help you, if he has a mind to, for no one else in the world will. I promise you that.”

Her fingers left my shoulder and I heard her skirts brush against the grass as she walked away towards the house. I let my eyes open and saw the tomb stone properly for the first time. I let myself see the words that stood guard over my son.

“Though the mountains be shaken and the hills be removed, yet my unfailing love for you will not be shaken.”

The next morning was chill and grey and the wind howled around the hall. It had done so for much of the night and I had been unable to sleep. I had risen early and sat near the fire and endeavoured to read. In the end I had given up and simply walked about my room, feeling my baby move in my belly and let my mind be soothed by my walking and moving.

At six Mrs Evans had come in to see to the fire and seemed very surprised that I were awake. She had been her usual snakish self but I was too focused on my task at hand. I had spent some of my early morning freedom to write a note to Daniel. In it I had told him of Victoria's plan, of what she and Mrs Evans had said to one another and that I needed to be rid of that woman in order to escape the house. I needed to see him, I had to. I told him how powerless I was becoming and how I longed to be away with him, far away.

That letter was written, sealed and ready, hidden in my desk. Once I had breakfasted, I asked for a bath to be drawn then stated that I wanted to walk outside once I had done dressing. On her new orders, Mrs Evans just nodded and had the bath drawn. She herself helped me into the tub and I forced myself not to shiver as her fingers touched my flesh. Once I was under the warm water, lent back and realised how my stomach was really starting to become large now. It was surprising, with James I had hardly shown until I was six months but here I was, not five months in my term and already I had a large bump. I washed the water over it, the warmth was soothing, I looked at how my body had changed. I was bigger in the belly, but the rest of me seemed shrunk somehow. I felt thinner at the shoulder blades, around my ribs and arms. My bottom and hips were still round but my face seemed thinner. It was odd.

Once I had washed my hair and soaped my body, Mrs Evans helped me out and dried me. I took great care with my dress and chose one which I thought was not too fine, I wanted Victoria to look the better out of us too. I chose my warm brown dress which would allow for some colour in my cheeks. I wore only my cross and my garnet ring from Rhiannon as well as my wedding ring. I put a soft cream shawl around my shoulders. I dressed my hair carefully, plaiting up the two long wings at either side and twisting them together so that the rest fell down my back. I considered my face in the glass, I looked pale and tired but not so ill as I had in recent months.

I was escorted down to the lower floors. Mrs Evans never stood at my side but just behind me, watching. I was informed that Mrs Eveleigh was in the morning room and I went there, my snake following. Once I was outside the door Mrs Evans said she wanted to attend to some other duties, I would kindly call for her when I wished to go elsewhere in the house. Gliding off, I noticed her little smile was back.

In the morning room it was cheerful and bright. The cold grey day outside was challenged by the light yellow wallpaper, the bright lamps and the warm fire. Victoria was seated on one of the sofas, embroidering something with intricate stitches. When I came in and asked to join her, she was polite at least and I seated myself on the same sofa, smoothing my dress as I sat down.

After tea had been brought in, Victoria continued to sew. Apparently I was to begin this encounter. I had thought carefully about how to begin in a way which would not seem threatening or accusatory. I had decided to begin by asking about the new decorations to the rooms she and her family would occupy.

She brightly described the new wallpaper she had picked for her marital bedchamber, a bright cherry red with polished mahogany furnishings. Her private sitting room would be in blue and white, to be airy and light to get the most from the south facing light. Her face took on a slight shadow as she then began to describe what she was doing with the new bedrooms for her boys. They, their nurse and nursery maid and their tutor would arrive within the week. Her oldest boy Robert, who was seven years of age, was to take my old marital bedroom. His brother Thomas, two years younger, would remain in the nursery for another year or so and then he would take the largest of the old guest rooms. The nursery staff would take the maids rooms in that apartment and the tutor would take over the old schoolroom and apartments at the other end of the wing.

The school room was wood panelled rather than papered and that panelling had been washed down and polished, the floors sanded and waxed and new equipment bought for the school room. The tutors apartments, his bedroom, sitting room and bathroom, had all been papered in the bright modern style. Young Robert's bedroom had been papered in green, his brother's future bedroom in the same shade.

It was when she came to describing the nursery that I saw her eyes take on a new watchfulness, a glitter that was terrifying to me. I could see she wanted a reaction.

The maids rooms had been washed down and papered in cream. The nursery itself, a wide room with windows which got the full light of the days sun, had always been papered in green with cream bordering it and light wood frames. Now the only thing that remained from that decore, which had been host not only to my little boy but my husband and sister as well as their father and his siblings, was the panelling. Victoria had chosen a new modern paper, with a pattern of cherry wood boxes, leaves and birds, a truly pretty piece and one which apparently adorned the best nursery’s in London. I could picture it clearly, it would be the height of fashion.

To accompany this, all the old furniture had been burnt and now new tables and chairs, a new rocking chair, cribs and toys had been ordered. The floor had been stripped, sanded, polished and new carpets had been ordered, in thick Welsh wool of bright colours. New shelves and cupboards had been installed and the windows had been cleaned and polished until they shone. It now, Victoria informed me, looked like a room to be proud of. A brand new nursery for the new children.

I picked up my tea cup and drank, to calm myself and stop any emotion running through me. Having seen the shell of that room before the decore had been changed, I did not have any residual emotion or so I thought. It was truly a shell. James had never been there. I felt a pang, none the less, a pang of sadness that I should not go to that one so beloved room and play with my child. However I controlled myself. I stopped my hand from shaking, I drank calmly and asked several questions on how the paper had been chosen and so on. Victoria looked slightly disappointed but was mollified when I complimented her on her choices.

While she was in a good humour, I continued to be kind and complimented her on her looks, impending motherhood evidently agreed with her? She talked excitedly about her desire for a daughter but confessed that she thought it would be a boy again as this baby was just as active as her last two had been. Looking slyly at the front of my own skirt, she asked if I were not a little uncomfortable? I looked very large for my time, was I certain of the dates? Oh, but of course! How silly of her to forget my accident. She mentioned my miscarriage with another look from under her lashes. I managed to remain outwardly calm.

I decided to try a slightly different tack. I admitted that since my fainting fit the other day, I had been concerned as I had felt a little odd. I saw her change colour slightly and pressed on, asking if I could speak in confidence? She nodded and I said that I was not certain that my nurse was appropriate as she had no midwife’s skills and clearly knew nothing of what medicines were safe for an expectant mother. Victoria was now really pink in the face and she agreed with me. She so understood and she had spoken with the woman herself to tell her not to give anything which the doctor himself had not advocated.

Using this to my advantage I reached out and took her hand. Looking her full in the face, I told her how happy I was that she cared so. I had always been most anxious that we be friends, after she had always been so kind to me, ever since she had been my bridesmaid. That I had only ever wished her good but that since the tragic happenings recently, I felt that she saw me differently. I knew that she must grieve very much for her parents.

She was still. Her eyes were lowered for a while then she looked up. There were tears shining on her face.

“You have no idea of how I feel.” She said, her voice calm but with a suppressed emotion beneath it.

“I say again, you have no idea of how I feel. I lost my father, whose approval and love I wanted always yet never got. As a child I do not remember him ever playing with, nor even coming t see me in the nursery or at my lessons. It was always Michael. It was Michael he wanted, not me. He cared nothing for me. I strove to please but was always pushed away. I never was told how precious I was to him, he never fought to keep me close when I went away. Even on my wedding day, no emotion. I lived far away to bare the pain of knowing that my father cared less for me than for one of the house spaniels.”

She had never before mentioned her feelings to anyone, I was sure. I asked her. She snorted and looked at me angrily, pityingly.

“Never spoke of it? Of course I have! I speak to my husband as you never have to yours! I see your looks! You think my Thomas was once handsome but now has grown plump? Well, he is the best of men. Gentle, loving, kind, a good father, a good husband who gives me anything I want and would die for me! Yours would not for you. My Thomas loved me from the first and to him I tell everything, everything! I told him of how unhappy I was, that my father did not love me and he told me that it mattered not, because he and his family loved me! He told me that my father was a fool and he was right!” She paused for breath and then began again, faster, with animation making her face light up.

“I knew my father did not love me and so I turned to my mother. My mother who you say you loved so dearly. Let me tell you something about my mother. I am sure she told you that I was selfish and cared not for her? Well that was never true. I adored her, I wanted her adoration in return, for her to love me and be proud of me and think me everything a daughter should be. Instead I was disliked because I did not wish to walk in the rain or ride a horse! She rode, oh yes, famous for it! It was her horse that terrified me. When I was only four I was out in the yard when my mother was going to ride. I did not know that the animal was in season and liable to be wild. I walked near by and it bucked and reared. As I turned to run, my frock caught on something and I tripped. When I lay on the ground, before I could rise, the beast stamped its foot down on my leg and broke it! Did you know that? Did you?”

I allowed that I had never heard the whole story. She went on, flushed and furious.

“I was carried into the house and my mother was so attentive and kind. I woke from having my leg seen to and she was beside my bed. I was so happy and then she told me I should not have been playing in the yard in the first place! I was a child, I wanted my mother to adore me and then I am told how wrong I was! I was frightened of horses from then onwards. Even today the thought of going near one frightens me. Thomas is so good to me, he made sure all our horses are the gentlest and sweetest natured animals so that I am not afraid and our boys learn under my supervision so that nothing can go wrong. I am good to my family, yes I am, in a way my mother was not. Riding off about the country, disliking me for not liking the same pursuits, for angering my father by trailing after him or my brother.”

She became calmer and that, somehow, was more frightening than her rage.

“Michael was sweet to me. He let me play with him and his friends, he made me little boats or dolls from wood. He sometimes tried to make Father be kind to me but not even he could succeed at

that. I loved my big brother and then he was sent off to school and I was alone. But he wrote to me every week, twice a week! Letters full of story’s for his little sister because he wanted to make me smile! He sent me ribbons and pictures and promised me that life would be different. He knew how I suffered, with Mother always telling me to be bolder, less frightened, less worried about my clothes or my dolls or things like that. To be bold like she was.”

Now she grew graver and calmer still. I was rooted to my seat, unable to say a word.

“When she had her accident, I remember running to her bedside. I saw what that brute of a horse had done to her. I never forgot it, the blood and the bones sticking from her legs, bruises and gashes all over. What was worst was the limpness of her limbs, the whiteness of her face. My bold brave mother was broken.

I could not stay. It sickened me to stay there. I was terrified of the anger and sadness of my father, my mother's screams as they tried to mend her body, how the entire house was like a tomb. I went to school. Perhaps it was not bravery like my mothers but her bravery got her broken. Mine got me friends, for the first time in my life. It got me my dear husband and my children and my family. I regret nothing.”

She became quiet and I ventured to ask if she truly regretted nothing. Her head came up and her eyes flashed, anger flushed her face.

“Nothing! I made my own life and my own fortune and I have everything I wanted except that which I could never win. My parents love. When my father died, I spent my hours beside him coffin praying for him to appear to me and tell me of his love before it was too late. He never came. And to see you, you who were nothing to the family, kept close by my mother and my brother as if you were the one they wanted when it should have been me! It tore me apart. Then my mother died. I never got the chance to tell her how much I loved her, or how I wanted her to love me, of why I had stayed away. She died and it broke my heart into pieces! Then to see you take the place of her, and accuse me of killing my mother and your son, of being unfeeling and a bad daughter when you know nothing!”

Her eyes were full of a hatred that I could not escape. I tried to tell her I was sorry, that I was mad with grief, that I had not meant it but she stopped me.

“Silence! I will not hear you! You are the one that is worthless, not me. I despise you. For the crime of taking my brother, my father, my mother and everything that should be mine, I will see you destroyed! I will have your child raised as my own, far from your influence. It will never even know your name or call you Mother! I will drive you mad indeed! Mad with grief, and mad you will stay! So you can think on that while you are alone and never forget how much I hate you!”

She stood up and walked to the door. Just before she stepped out, she turned. Her voice was emotionless as if she had worn herself out.

“You can run away and become a London whore or you can rot in a madhouse, I do not care. One way or another, you will leave my family and I will see you buried before I offer you any friendship.”

She went out. I sat frozen on the sofa and the door closed with a click.

As we descended onto the lower levels of the house, I began to see signs of life. Servants walked along the hall ways, I saw the decorators in a few rooms but all were like ghostly apparitions, translucent and the rooms about them were visible through their nebulous bodies.

It did not take us long to discover Victoria. She was in the small sitting room that she was using as a private boudoir whilst her mother's old rooms were being redecorated. She was sitting on a sofa, fretfully drinking tea and alternately sniffing at her salts. Apparently her nerves were still shaken from the morning. I could hardly believe it but Bess was right, there was not a single hint that we could be seen. All persons other than ourselves seemed nebulous and strange. They did not react to us, nor appear to even hear us.

There came a knock on the door and Mrs Evans entered. She shut the door quietly behind her and was ordered by Victoria to turn the key in the lock to prevent any servant entering. Once done the nurse came across to my sister and stood in front of her, her eyes boldly upon Victoria's face and her hands folded in front of her.

Victoria looked up at her but seemed to have trouble keeping eye contact. She first asked if Mrs Evans were well, to which the other replied in the affirmative then fell silent again. You do not ask me here to discuss my health, her face seemed to say. Victoria, when she spoke again, spoke in a harsh whisper, too quiet to have been heard outside the room.

"You told me that liquid was harmless!" Mrs Evans smiled broadly.

"And it is, madam, it is. You said that no harm was to come to her Ladyship and none has."

"None has? You call being unconscious and danger to the baby no harm?"

Mrs Evans stood straighter and her smile lost some of its length.

"No harm that will be fatal. The child will be perfectly fine. The medicine only gives the mind a shock, it simply makes the taker seem unbalanced for some while which is the very thing you asked me to arrange." Now Victoria stood up and moved about the room, pacing. Mrs Evans watched her like a snake.

"I never told you to go so far as to drug her in that way. I told you..."

"You told me to provoke a reaction and I did. I provoked one by giving a medicine which, thanks to the interference of others, I cannot give again. I shall simply have to watch her Ladyship more closely and find a weak spot in her." Victoria stopped and looked at her.

"You have not found one yet? What about her son? I tell you, after his death, she has become like a wild animal when he is mentioned." Mrs Evans smiled again.

"That avenue is a possibility which I shall explore however, if I may be so bold, I would like to ask a question. Her Ladyship is at present finishing the final details of a grand doll's house, which she informed me was originally built by a relation?"

"Yes. My great grandmother on my father's side. She was an invalid for much of her older life and she had ample time for such pursuits."

"You are aware of her history then? For I think you are omitting one detail, that of her being kept in an asylum herself." Victoria turned and looked a mixture of shock and unbridled bewilderment.

"What can you mean? I would have heard if this, I am sure, if it were true. Is this some lie you want to tell?"

"No, my lady. If you wish for the full truth, ask your brother. Your late relative was confined in a private house by her husband for a period of some years. It was this that broke her body down and she was released once she was no longer considered dangerous. Your own father was well aware of this fact as are several older members of the community, I am sure." Victoria sat down again. She looked at her hands for some time then back up at the older woman.

"How did you come by this information?" Mrs Evans continued to smile.

"Records are kept of such things. When I am employed to look after someone, I always check the family background to be sure of some facts." My sister nodded but looked confused.

"But this...this sheds no light on Imogen. She is not related to my family but by marriage, there can be no thread of madness running from that unfortunate woman to her!"

At this Mrs Evans fairly laughed. She stepped closer to my sister, bent and approached her lips to Victoria's ear so that not one word would be lost to her.

“There need be no connection of lineage. There simply need be a connection of knowledge. One lady in a vulnerable state might find a painting or a doll's house or some other trifle and it might encourage a connection felt in the mind only. Once that connection is made, the seeds of madness can be stowed. An obsession, one might say. And obsession can lead to some very dangerous acts indeed. Some might say, truly risky and with serious consequence.” As she said these words, Victoria lent back and away from her, she was almost shivering and yet her gaze seemed locked with that other woman, she seemed to not be able to break away. When she answerer, she almost whispered.

“What might happen? What risky things might...” Mrs Evans laid a finger gently upon Victoria's lips.

“My lady, it is best if you do not know. I know my duties and shall do them. This is all you must know.” Victoria persisted somewhat.

“I do not want the child harmed! The mother....I mean it. I do not want any harm to come to the baby.”

“As you say my lady. I am sure none of us wish any harm.” Mrs Evans voice had gone back to its natural level and she stood fully upright, smoothing the skirt of her dress in her hands. She stepped back and bowed her head slightly, her little smile playing at the corners of her mouth.

“I must go now, my lady. I left Mistress alone and I want to see what she has been doing in my absence.” Victoria waved a hand and Mrs Evans left the room.

I pulled hard on Victoria's arm and raced back upstairs to her sitting room. Once there I took both her hands in mine.

“After hearing that, what should I do? Should I get word to Daniel? Or try to talk with...” I stopped, who could I talk with? Mrs Levin? She was an honourable old servant, she would assist me but could she? She was nothing alone. No one else in the house, including Jones, could assist me, they would be too afraid of losing their place. Mrs Levin though, she had money of her own, from Rhiannon's will. One thousand a year, enough to make her independent if she chose to leave. She was highly principled, she was well thought of and....

Bess broke into my thoughts.

“You are right to want to get away as soon as you can but do not do anything reckless! Let Mrs Evans words be a warning to you, she tells it true that lunatics and mad people are rash and do not think logically. You must act as sensibly and as patiently as you can. Let those be your armour against the accusations of insanity. You must do nothing- nothing!- which would make you seem insane.” She was right in this but how could I be calm when I felt a trap closing about me, felt it's terrible jaws almost on me and was being crushed by it? I could scarcely breathe when I thought too closely on what might happen! Bess took hold of me, made me look at her.

“You must do as I say. You must promise me that you will act rationally and with the greatest calm possible. Yes, you must get word to Daniel but you must secure yourself first. Who can you rely on?”

“Mrs Levin? She might aid me and she has enough money of her own that she could live independently if she lost her place or chose to go. She is well thought of in the community, she is a good Christian woman who is mindful of principals and the truth.”

“Well then, make her your ally. In good conscience, she must help you, if you were to ask her to give a letter to the doctor I am sure she would do so. But you must be calm around Mrs Evans! You are so highly strung that I fear you will snap! You must be calm itself. Pray on it, let God fill you with a nun's calm, do what you must but remain as calm and logical as possible. It is the only thing which can save you at this moment!”

I promised her. I truly meant it, I did. Bess called me to order, she knew she was now in the doll's house and not in the glass so she could not aid me unless I were in the doll's house too. I must be ready to go at all times, for Mrs Evans was on her way up. She counselled me to not eat or drink anything that I had not seen my guard eat or drink herself. I must be cautious against further drugging. I nodded.

I could feel a tug on my shoulder which seemed greater than myself, stronger and the walls began to grow dim. I knew I was leaving the doll's house and I clung to Bess and embraced her. I promised I would remember her words, I promised I would try to remain calm. The walls became dim and my head swam. I felt myself being pulled awake and then...

Mrs Evans was shaking my shoulder. Her snake smile was back and her eyes looked at me without pity or remorse. My jailer, my foe. I told her I had grown tired, I wanted some tea and some refreshments. I tried to stay calm and cold to her, to ignore the terror in the pit of my stomach.

Back in my bed chamber I sat by the window, drinking hot tea and letting my thoughts fly far away from the warm room and the malicious woman who sat snakelike and watched me. What had I ever done to Victoria to make her hate me so? Hate me so much that she would have me driven mad and shut up for my entire life?

I had met my future sister in law a month before the wedding. As I had only one younger sister, aged five at the time, I asked Michael if his sister would consent to be my bridesmaid and my younger sister my flower girl. We had met for tea and Victoria had been kindness and friendship itself. We had gone to dress makers shops together, she had helped me chose my trousseau and then warmer clothes for my new home. At the wedding she had been helpful and lovely in a light green gown behind me in my brides dress. She had danced prettily, talked wittily and had given me a beautiful set of silver combs and brushes for my hair as a wedding gift.

After the wedding I remember telling Michael how agreeable his sister was and he had simply nodded. He had later explained that he had expected her to be unwelcoming to me but that she had surprised him. Well she might.

At this time Victoria had been married several years and had two sons yet her waist was still slim and her face pretty. She had excellent manners, a charming way about her and could play, sing and dance remarkably well. She loved to gossip, had a flair for fashion and dress making, she had designed many of her dresses herself and she was known in society for her beautiful creations.

She was a woman utterly unfit for country life, let alone life as the daughter of a country lord who ruled over coal and mountains. She disliked riding ever since she had been kicked by a horse as a young child. She resisted all of her mothers efforts to get her to try riding again and so cut off a large avenue of communication between them both. She did not care for long walks or for walking uphill or in unseasonable weather. She preferred sitting or walking with an escort around prettily planted blooms and pleasure gardens. She liked picnics, outings taken by carriage and she loathed hunting, loathed dirt and loathed getting wet.

Her maid had the misfortune to be discovered by her charge reading a penny romance periodical. In exchange for various favours, the maid allowed Victoria to read all the romances she had. Her youthful mind devoured them and, along with tales of fair maidens and knights and brigands and tales of valour, became obsessed with three things. Her own appearance, her dress and getting a rich husband who would fall on his sword to protect her. In the first two incidences she was lucky. She had good looks as a child and grew into a pretty woman. She was from a rich family and her taste for pretty frocks could be indulged. The area in where she lived was sadly in want of handsome knights, brigands and princes. Since her mother's accident, there were not even balls or parties. When her father had broached the topic of sending her to school, to rid her of the terrible grief she suffered- he thought it was over her dear mother, in fact young Victoria had been teaching herself how to cry at will, it got notice and notice brought presents- Victoria had accepted right away. To be sure, school would not be interesting in itself but it had a certain romance to think of herself as sent away by the family, after a horrific accident. Also, it was away from dirt and coal and mountains.

In her London school Victoria thrived. The other girls made her feel important and she loved to share secrets and gossip- gossiping only with your maids is hardly becoming of a young lady. She was bright enough to pass at her lessons, she excelled at needlework and also at winning invitations to tea at friends homes. Having a sick mother and being from an extremely rich family made her very interesting to other parents and their children. She perfected her performance as the caring daughter who thought it best for her dearest mama if she stayed at school, a tear falling from her lashes as she spoke, that hearts universally melted and she was invited to weekends in the country, holidays at the seaside and trips galore.

Her father allowed her to spend most of her holidays away from home with friends as she had no one to play with at the hall. Victoria trooped about London in fine dresses, went on picnics and trips, spent her pocket money freely and kept her eye out for handsome young men. She found the one she wanted after a few years, the Honourable Mr Thomas Henry Eveleigh, oldest son of a very rich landed man who owned farms in Norfolk, Surrey and Essex. He was older than she was, fond of social gatherings and he was a most attractive man. Fair hair, green eyes, tall and broad shouldered, he was exactly the man for Victoria. Fortunately for her, he felt the same way and they were married as soon as they were legally able. They spent part of their year in a beautiful London town house and the rest at a large manor house in Norfolk where they had many neighbours in the nearby gentry to allow for parties and balls and evenings.

Victoria had chosen her destiny herself and had acquired it through determination, feminine wiles and self interested focus. She was rich, she had a adoring husband and fine children, a place in society and yet she now wanted to come back to Wales where there was plenty of coal and walks and weather to contend with and little else apart from local gossip and farming. Why?

I could see why her husband might not mind it. He might be a society man but he had also been raised to know much about farming as his father's heir. He had a natural interest in country matters, he did not mind weather in any form and he rode well. Not so his wife.

A log fell in the grate and sent up a shower of sparks. I jumped a little, I watched Mrs Evans tend to the fire and thought of how much my sister must hate me to want me dethroned in this manner. Dethroned Perhaps that was the right word after all. I had taken the place of her mother in the hall. I had become the mistress of the house and taken the role that her mother had given up when she became ill. I thought on it and realised that Victoria's determination was possibly the same as the determination I was discovering in myself. As a child she had been lonely, no doubt, much like I had been. She had not enjoyed the same pursuits as her family. She had longed for more. She had buried herself in romances to get away from the world she really lived in. She has no friends, she was as a shut up as I was now. While still a child, her mother had suffered a terrible accident, and could no longer be her mother or not the mother that she wanted at any rate. In order to survive in a house that offered her nothing, she had gone away and set her sights on securing the means of never having to go back. Now.....yes, what now? What had split us apart so much? We had been so close when I first married.

I sat up suddenly and spoke to Mrs Evans. Would she be so good as to ask my dear sister if I might take tea with her on the morrow? Mrs Evans nodded but as she went from the room, I caught her look. It was a look that said 'what is she planning now?' Well, I was planning two things. First to see Mrs Levin and ask her to take a letter to Daniel. The second was to speak with Victoria and try to make her see that I meant her no harm. That we could rekindle the same friendship, even if only to be rid of Mrs Evans. I could not hope to escape with that woman there and I knew that only Victoria could call her off.

After an hour's painting in the craft room, watched by the evil woman who seemed to grow more terrible by the second, a maid arrived with my supper tray. I ate as much as I could then Mrs Evans said she would take my tray down herself as she wished to have her dinner apart from me. She picked up the now empty tray and shut the door on me, locking me in.

Once I had heard her footsteps along the corridor, I let myself breath properly. I was alone, without her spider eyes on me. I remembered how she had looked at me and felt sick.

The sudden respite from her was so intense that all my vitality left me in a moment. I lay my head on my hand as I sat in my chair, leaned and let my eyes close for just a moment....

I awoke in the doll's house. I was in the craft room but the door was open wide. The sun poured through the window, I could see late winter blue sky’s and a fresh cool view.

Bess came in.

“We are alone. How long you have been!” She was smiling and her face looked mischievous. I asked what she meant.

“I have been waiting for ages! I do not know how but I let my mind go blank and then suddenly I was here. There is no one else here at all. We never replaced the dolls the last time we were here so apart from us two, we have the entire house to ourselves. Are you aright?” She asked, seeing my face. I quickly told her about Mrs Evans and what had happened after tea. She winced.

“I know her sort. She sounds much like a few of the nurses from the asylum in my time. They enjoyed the punishment side of their work a little too much for comfort. What you must do is not react to her. I know it is hard but what she thrives on is your pain and discomfort and the thought of what she will do to you in the future. If you do not react, if you stay calm and then tell your husband what she has said, then perhaps you may be rid of her, in some way.” I could see the sense but it did not please me, I hated that woman with a passion.

“Come. Let us leave her alone and enjoy our time here. We are free to go about as we will, let us go outside!”

we fairly ran down the stairs. The outdoors was beautiful, cold and clean. The blue sky’s were so fresh that the air burned our lungs. We walked around the entire garden and once we were cold enough, we went in through the kitchen door. We made ourselves a picnic of cold meat, bread and cakes, washed down with a rich red wine. This done, we went to the music room and enjoyed a carefree time singing together. The house was so easy to be in, it was hard to realise it was not real.

All at once I felt a faintness and I sat down on one of the sofas. Moments later I could hear a voice calling me and my eyes found nothing but darkness...

I awoke in the craft room. Mrs Evans was by the door and Mrs Levin, with Sarah the housemaid, was holding the smelling bottle to my nose. I was told to sit still and not move, to drink some brandy and that they would help me to bed as soon as I might feel able. I felt well enough in five minutes and was supported to my bed. Sarah stayed to help me undress, Mrs Evans stirred up a cup of mulled wine. I drank it but it had a strange taste. I felt myself feeling sick as a dog then that the floor, the walls and ceiling were moving. I held on to Sarah and screamed in terror.

I saw Mrs Levin run back in, heard her asking Mrs Evans what had happened. I felt blackness descending upon me, my hands slip from Sarah's arm then nothing, nothing, nothing.

When I woke up, I was in bed but there seemed to be a room full of people. My vision was blurred and I felt weary and my head ached. Someone held a bottle of salts to my nose, I was offered water and gradually the dizziness cleared and my vision became true again.

I could see Daniel! Daniel beside my bed, taking my pulse! Next to him was Mrs Levin, who held the salts and water, Sarah on the other side who held a fan and was sponging my temples. Mrs Evans was behind her, looking grim for once and at the end of the bed was Michael, Victoria and her husband.

As I looked about me, most faces seemed to relax and grow lighter. Daniel said quietly to Mrs Levin that my pulse was normal. He gently asked how I felt and was gratified when I stated that I was well, though I felt weak and my memory was strangely absent. What had happened? Mrs Levin told me that I had been victim to a sort of fit and fallen unconscious. I could not be roused and so the doctor had been called in. I asked after my baby and was told that the child was moving and the heart beat was strong. I asked the time, it was two in the morning.

Victoria was seated on a chair, I realised there were tears in her eyes! Her husband, Michael, both seemed relieved. Daniel said that I must be allowed to sleep. There would be time enough for questions in the morning, it was best that I rested. He told Victoria to go to bed, she must rest, for her baby’s sake. Her husband left with her. He then spoke to Michael and said he would stay the night by my bedside in case some sort of relapse occurred. He would keep Mrs Evans with him for nurse.

Sarah went out then, followed by Mrs Levin who said she would offer a prayer to God for my safe delivery from sickness. Mrs Evans settled into the chair Sarah had left with a courteous nod to my husband. Michael came to my bedside and kissed my forehead, placed a hand on my belly. He was glad that I was recovering, now I must do better and be well enough to rise in the morning. He gave good nights to the others and left.

With Mrs Evans sat beside me, Daniel could hardly say anything but just knowing he was there was a relief. I let myself lie back, I soon slipped down into a dream of a winters day walk, the blue sky above and freedom all about me.

In the morning I awoke late, at nine. Mrs Evans was else where, Daniel was asleep in the chair beside me. I sat up and looked at him. Asleep, I could see the long fair lashes of his eyes sweeping down and the pale lilac colour of his lids. I leant forward and kissed him on the nose and giggled as he started awake. He saw me and beamed, placed a finger to his lips and then leant forward and kissed me on the mouth, tenderly but with a hunger which I revelled in.

he took my pulse again, then my temperature. Both were normal. Was I hungry? I was famished and he called out to Mrs Evans who came in and was ordered to bring tea, toast and honey for me. She went with a very bad grace indeed. Once her footsteps were out of earshot Daniel leant forward again, wrapped both arms around he and held me to him. He rubbed my belly, he stroked my face and looked at me so lovingly I was taken aback. My hair was a mess, I looked pale and wan. He said not at all, I looked delicious, my hair a desirable tangle. He told me it was the intimacy of my look that pleased him. Was I sure I felt well? Enough to get up? He fetched my shawl and helped me to sit in the chair by the fire. I was a little weak but otherwise not impaired. Mrs Evans returned and said that my breakfast was being brought, the doctor asked her to bathe me, and help me dress while it was being prepared, he would then help her to take me downstairs. With more of the same bad grace, she obeyed.

Dressed in a loose empire lined cream gown, I ate my breakfast while Sarah dressed my hair. Then I was helped downstairs, mainly by Sarah and Daniel. I was careful to address him as Dr Crowner.

I was taken to the library where my husband was already sitting, with Mrs Levin and his sister and brother in attendance. At my appearance Victoria gave a little cry and got up, came to me and helped me to a chair, was I aright, was I well, was I sure I should be up? I was surprised by her attention but enjoyed it none the less. It was pleasant after weeks of friction.

Michael then asked the doctor to give his diagnosis. Daniel said that he thought perhaps I required more fresh air. The faint could have been caused by want to exercise....but then Sarah burst in. She was another local girl who had been in service with the family for six years.

“Beg pardon, M'lord but that isn’t quite how it was.” Michael and the others looked at her, Mrs Levin quietly admonished her to address my husband as 'your Lordship'. Michael beckoned her to carry on.

“It wasn’t a faint, as I saw it, your Lordship. It was the drink. I saw the new nurse put some sort of syrup into a drink she gave her Ladyship and then she went all queer.”

At this, all eyes went to Mrs Evans who still wore her calm half smile. She stepped forward and answered quietly.

“It was merely a stimulant. I thought it might help her Ladyship’s appetite which has been poor. I think that perhaps I gave a little over much.” Daniel asked her to kindly step out with him and fetch this bottle, he needed to see what it was for himself. While they were away, Michael questioned Sarah on what she had seen, Victoria shook and pressed my hands a little, requiring Mrs Levin to give her the smelling bottle and the room was full of talk. My head began to ache and my brother in law fetched me and his wife glasses of wine with water. We were in need of relief, it had been a trying time.

Daniel came back in with Mrs Evans after ten minutes. He looked grimly at Michael.

“It appears to be some sort of stimulant medicine but not one which I recognise. While I am sure Mrs Evans was doing her best to help, I do not think it should be used on an expectant mother or without a doctor's permission.” Michael turned to Mrs Evans. He spoke calmly but sternly, she was on no account to think of giving me any medicine unless strictly authorised by Dr Crowner as my attending physician. Did she need reminding that there was also an innocent life at stake? He thanked her for the thought but in future...This time it was Mrs Levin who broke in. She was quiet and composed as usual but her face was set.

“If you please, your Lordship, I beg to raise another issue. While Mrs Evans may well be a competent nurse, she is not a ladies maid. I think it is a gross act of misconduct to have her acting as confidential aid to her Ladyship, and I must also say that I am concerned that her Ladyship has not been allowed to leave her room these many days past. I do not mean to question your Lordship but I am afraid that with so many things to think of, you may not be aware of what is proper in this case.” I was genuinely shocked that she would broach the subject at all, let alone in front of all these people but Mrs Levin stood firm, looked my husband in the eye and spoke as calmly and composedly as ever.

Michael looked to his sister who was still tearful and she nodded to him. At this signal he stepped forward and said that he was sorry to have let the matter slip his mind, that he had been much concerned by other things and that I might have Sarah wait on me when I wished. My personal maid was on leave and would be back soon. As for the rest, he had been thinking of me and had simply wanted for me to have ample rest. However, since the doctor had decreed that I needed exercise, he sanctioned me to come and go as I pleased but always escorted to prevent any attacks of faintness or accidents.

Mrs Levin bowed and took Sarah back to work, Michael said he must do some work on the estate and would his brother assist him? Daniel took his leave, Victoria went to the morning room and Mrs Evans helped me back upstairs. I wished to go out but a rain was blowing and it looked very grey and dull besides.

In my room, I said I would settle at my work. The other woman said that she would go and sort a few things out in her own room but I should ring if I wanted anything. As she left, she still had her strange little half smile. It surprised me, I so expected her to look chastened. The fact that she did not made me worried.

As soon as the door shut I looked about for Bess but could not see her anywhere. I went out into the hall and then into the craft room. The empty chamber yawned at me. I sat beside the dolls house. It looked a sorry sight with the dolls laid beside it. I began to place them again, mostly down in the music and sittings then realised that the doll portraying Bess was still up in her bedroom. I picked it up and looked at it. Replacing it, I placed mine beside her and stared hard at the doll's house.

“Is anything the matter, my lady?”

Mrs Evans was standing just behind me, she was so noiseless that I had not heard her come in. I explained that I had a fancy to do some work on the doll's house. She stepped up until she was beside me and bent over it, peering closely at each room. Shed picked up the doll of myself.

“Cunningly made. Your work, my lady?” I told her no, it had been done by the professional restorer we had hired. All the dolls were his work, as well as much of the furniture. I was responsible for the painting and papering. She smiled a little wider and considered my doll. Then she reached for the doll of Bess.

“And who is this, my lady? Some relation?” I decided to be honest on that score.

“Yes, she was my husband's great grandmother. It was she who first built this doll's house and so I thought it fitting to have her represented to future generations. She is the lady in that portrait that hangs there.” I indicated the large painting. Mrs Evans considered the portrayal in the painting with the doll in her hand. She replaced the doll and took up the others, looking through them.

“Very like, all of them. You seem to have a keen interest in the past, my lady. This little one seems to be missing from the real family however?” she held up the doll of my son.

“Your lost boy, I am sure. Well, it's a kind heart that brought him into the fantasy world here, as he cannot be in the real one. You must find this a great solace, my lady, in your times of sorrow. Such a sweet little toy. One which allows you to have the life you truly want. I think the lady who made this was also of great imagination?” She replaced all the dolls precisely. A hand of hers rested on my shoulder as she leant across to put my son into the nursery.

Her face came up close to mine. Her eyes looked directly into mine.

“I hope you enjoy your solace my lady. You may not have it for long. No matter what a few servants say, your husband is the law in this house. You are still under watch, make no mistake on that. The web may have grown bigger but it is still a web.”

And with that she took herself off to the other room. I heard her low chuckle of malicious glee as she went. I shuddered. Her hands were cold as ice and her fingers had inflamed joints, larger than the bones of the hand. It made them look like claws.

I looked back at the house. I wondered again where Bess was. Surely she was still; there? I wondered if she were still inside the doll's house.

Taking this idea, I decided to find out. I had found the way in, I merely had to sleep. I lent my head on my hand, let my eyes shut, let myself begin to dream and......

found myself inside my bedroom. Bess was shaking my shoulder.

“You are here at last! I was calling you and calling you! I can hardly believe it! You may wonder at my words but they are true! I have not left this place! It has changed all my world! I no longer exist in the glass, I exist in here and what is more, I can hear and see all of you!” I asked her to explain and she did so, breathless with excitement.

“It is as if I were really walking about the house,. I can see and hear everything but cannot be seen. I saw the meeting in the library today and what happened to you last night.” Her face grew scared again, apparently there was much to tell.

“You must beware, my dear friend! I know the drink you were given, it is a stimulant, yes, but one which causes fits of madness! It is made from some herbal fungus and was, I am sure, designed to make you seem mad! If you had not had that servant present and had not fainted....”

I shuddered. Had Mrs Evans truly tried to drug me? Bess nodded.

“It was on orders. You noticed your sister was so distressed? That was guilt, my friend. It was she who arranged for Mrs Evans and she who told her to turn you mad. Her comments and speeches and strange ways? All to turn your sweet head. But your sweet sister did not think she would drug you and endanger your baby. That is why she was so distressed. And if I am not mistaken, she will be needing to speak with Mrs Evans today to find out what happened! I caught some conversation between them last night, this is how I know of their plan. They meet again this evening before dinner. We two must listen in. We may stay within the dolls house and hear them, without ever leaving this room or any fear of being seen!”