Cinders and Ashes (Cavendish Mysteries 2)

“It’s alright,” she murmured, offering him a wobbly smile. Now she had begun to speak about the past, the words tumbled out in a flow she couldn’t stop.

“The day before I was due to leave, I decided to plead with my mother in a last ditch attempt to get her to listen to me. I hated my aunts. They are greedy, always dropping hints about needing money, and trading vicious gossip about people. My mother argued that I was to go. This time though, the argument became more heated. Suddenly she grasped her chest and fell to the floor. I screamed and shouted for help. I can’t remember much about what happened, other than I was shoved out of the room.”

The haunting vision of her mother’s lifeless body lying on the bedroom floor rose unbidden in her mind’s eye. It was so vivid, it could have happened just yesterday.

“I waited and waited for news of her condition, although inside I think I knew she was gone. When my father did request my presence in the library, he informed me that nobody was able to do anything for her. I could remain at Eastleigh House until the funeral, but as soon as she was buried I was to depart to my aunts’ house in Bath. I was to remain there until he sent further direction.” Amelia swiped at the tears on her face, as she thought about that horrifying moment when her future was decided for her.

Her protests were ignored, and she was ushered out by the family butler. The last sight of her father on that fateful evening was his rigid back turned he towards her as he stared out at the garden. He simply refused to listen to her, or acknowledge her any longer.

“As soon as my mother was in the ground, I was bundled into the coach and taken to Bath.” Amelia’s voice became monotone as she recounted events, as though watching from a distance. “I argued that last morning, but to no avail. My aunts didn’t want me really. Neither had married or had children, and had no idea how to deal with me. I wasn’t a child. Someone they could manipulate. So they saw me as a threat. I had no sooner walked through the door, than they laid out numerous house rules, and immediately set me to work.”

Amelia glanced around the room, reassured somewhat by the sympathy in the gazes of the people there. It bolstered her courage enough to allow her to continue.

“I worked as their servant. You see, they didn’t want me. They wanted the money my father was paying them to look after me. They got the better end of the deal because they were being paid to have me, and used me as a servant they didn’t have to pay.”

She paused briefly, as Edward swore.

“I didn’t mind,” she murmured softly, with a grateful smile at his supportive outburst. “It gave me something to do. It also provided me with enough grounding to live and cope as Sir Hubert’s housekeeper.”

“What happened then?” Dominic murmured, held as transfixed by her story as everyone else. “You obviously didn’t remain with your aunts. How did you get to Glendowie? Did you know Sir Hubert?”

Amelia shook her head. “No. I had been at my aunts’ for about a year, when I became aware of a certain male visitor who seemed to appear most days. At first I didn’t think anything of it, but after a while one of the staff overheard a conversation between my aunts and this strange man. They were discussing my dowry, and whether it would be released before or after my marriage to the man. My aunts were trying to draw a deal together, whereby they got a cut of my dowry if they persuaded my father the man was suitable. Which he wasn’t. But that didn’t matter to my aunts.” Amelia shuddered at the memories that rose.

“The staff felt sorry for me, and were shocked that my aunts would consider selling me. They agreed to help me leave. Bart, the coachman and butler, had a brother who ran a brewery cart. He arranged for me to travel on the cart to the nearest post chaise, where I purchased a ticket out of Bath, and into freedom. I took some money from my aunt’s room before I left. Enough to buy my way out of there. I figured they owed me, given the money they had been paid to look after me, that hadn’t actually been spent on anything other than themselves.”

“Quite right,” Peter muttered, with almost fatherly approval.

“Damned mercenary witches.” Edward practically bristled with outrage towards the unseen pair.

“So you caught the post chaise to Glendowie?” Sebastian murmured softly, raising her hand to his mouth. Fury and disgust towards her aunts, and the callous way had treated her, burned in his stomach. He swayed between admiration and horror as he listened to her recount events.

“I was on my way to Edinburgh,” Amelia confirmed. “I caught post chaise after post chaise out of Bath. Heading north until my money ran out. Only once I got to Mistlemouth I just had to get off the post chaise and rest for a while. I was exhausted. I purchased a pie, and sat beside the stream to rest for a while. It was nice to be out of the hustle and bustle of the busy coaching inn for a while. Unfortunately, I fell asleep. When I woke up, the light was beginning to fade. I rushed back to the inn only to find that the coach had left, and wasn’t due to visit again for another week. I could have waited, but didn’t have enough funds to purchase a room for one night, let alone several. I was panicked and didn’t know what I was going to do. As I left the inn, I bumped into Sir Hubert. Literally. I knocked him flying. He appeared very frail as he stood before me, yet so kind and apologetic for knocking into me. He was clearly struggling to carry his books and purchases, and with nothing else to do I offered to carry them home for him. As we walked, he asked me several questions about who I was, and why I was there. So I told him. Everything. Including my dire predicament, and sought his advice on what I should do.”

Amelia was aware of the amount of time she had been rambling on with her wayward thoughts, and wondered if everyone was bored yet. When she paused, she was met with an expectant silence as everyone waited for her to continue.

“When we got to his house, he apologised for the shabby state of the place and offered me the job as his housekeeper. Unfortunately, his funds were low. Even with his advanced age, it wasn’t really suitable for me to live in the house with him. We did a deal where he paid me lower wages, and in lieu of payment let me live in the small cottage through the woods. I got a job that paid some money, and had a roof over my head. He agreed not to inform anyone of my real name.”

“There you lived in relative solitude, until I landed on your doorstep,” Sebastian added into the stunned silence that had fallen over the group.

“Until you arrived,” Amelia confirmed ruefully, but without regret.

“If it is not too impertinent, how old are you?” Peter asked, frowning at her in consideration.

“Three and twenty,” Amelia murmured, with candour. “I am far beyond needing a guardian, so my father is not able to turn up and demand I go anywhere. I am my own person now.”

“Excellent,” Sebastian added, moving to stand. “That certainly makes life easier.”

“Does it?” Amelia moved to stand also, wary at his last comment. It sounded suspiciously like he had plans. “How?”

Sebastian merely smiled and wisely remained quiet. Having had her confirm her ancestry and imminent suitability to be his wife, there was really no reason why they couldn’t marry whenever they chose.

“You can now tell us why this man looks so familiar to you. In particular what his connections with Eastleigh are,” Sebastian said, handing her a brandy with a smile. “Thank you, Amelia, for taking us into your confidence. We all appreciate how painful it must be to recount such a difficult time.”

“I don’t really know much about Hawksworth,” Amelia replied, glancin

g at the Penny Dreadful and the horrible picture of the murderer. “I saw him on several occasions entering and leaving Eastleigh Hall. Only from a distance, you understand. I just assumed he was a business associate of Eastleigh’s.”

“I think someone needs to go to Eastleigh to see if they can find out what the connection was,” Dominic announced, glancing at Amelia when she instinctively made to protest. “If there is a business connection there, Eastleigh may be able to tell us a bit more about Hawksworth’s lifestyle. He may also be able to identify the man on the Penny Dreadful.”