She went backwards, over the cellar opening and fell headlong into its gaping maw.
For a moment I could do nothing but stand there with my hand over my mouth. She made no sound. I called her name, tentatively. Still, silence.
I went into the kitchen for a lantern and took it with me, down the slippery cold rungs of the ladder. Halfway down, I shone it into the darkness. Eliza lay there, her neck at a sickening angle. I had killed her.
I went down to sit with her. I know not why. I sat with her for an hour, perhaps two, even three, then I realised I had this diary in the pocket of my nightgown and I thought to write it all down and leave this testimony with her.
I leave it now. I place it beside her and I leave this cellar, this house and this town. I will pack a bag and be away from here with the morning mail.
What will become of me, and my child, I cannot say.
I place our destinies in the hands of a merciful God. He will need no diary to understand my motives, for He will see what is in my heart, and so, farewell.
Jenna put the book aside and for a moment neither of them spoke.
‘Fucking hell,’ said Jason at last, with feeling.
‘So the body wasn’t hers,’ said Jenna. ‘God. What a mess.’
‘And guess what,’ said Jason, sounding so savage that Jenna turned to him in concern. ‘The only one who gets away with it all is Harville.’
‘Oh, well, but does he? He loses his wife and the son he longed for. So, not really.’
‘You think he wouldn’t go out and remarry straight away?’
‘How could he? Frances was still alive. He’d need her death certificate before he could do that. Although, maybe a divorce on grounds of desertion? But I’m shaky on divorce law back then. I’m sure it took a very long time.’
Jason shook his head. ‘But what the hell happened to her? Them? I mean, if she had the baby. She might have lost it, what with all that fighting and stress.’
Jenna leant her head back against the wall, her brain working furiously.
‘I don’t know. But I think we need to dig deeper. I can’t just let it end like that. I need to know what happened to them all – to Frances and the baby, to Lord Harville, to those poor girls. And Eliza’s family! Did they know? Were they told? Everything suggests that it was totally hushed up, since Eliza’s body has lain there ever since. The cellar was sealed and it was left that way. Although . . . somebody put all those boxes of papers down there. Harvilles have known, all the way down the years.’
‘How the hell are we supposed to find out though? We can’t exactly bring any of ’em back to life to ask them.’
‘I don’t know. Parish records. Births, deaths and marriages. I’m going to look into it, Jay. Just as soon as this exhibition’s off my hands.’
‘Yeah, I think it’s got to be done. I’ll help you.’
They clasped hands, each looking for some comfort from the other from the awful story they had just read.
‘We’ll sort this out,’ said Jenna, and they embraced.
Chapter Twelve
LATE AUGUST HAD come to Bledburn, and with it the first break in the weeks of summer heat that had tyrannised the town since Jenna’s return from London.
On the day of the exhibition, the skies were darker and fat raindrops fell singly or in pairs before changing their minds and withholding the ever-promised cloudburst. The uncertainty did nothing to help Jenna’s mood, already jittery, as she rushed around the house and garden supervising the final touches.
‘Jen, chill,’ said Kayley, laughing, as she unpacked a box of champagne glasses in the kitchen. ‘Leave it to the team. Tabitha’s got the paintings covered and I can cope with the other bits and bobs. Take five before your blood pressure goes through the roof.’
‘I could do with finding Jason,’ she muttered, picking up a handful of invoices and gazing unseeingly at the figures. ‘Where’s he gone? Doesn’t he care that this is his big night?’
‘Go and find him. He’s probably a bag of nerves too. Honestly, everything’s in hand.’
Jenna nodded and put down the papers.
‘Thanks, Kayl,’ she muttered, wandering out into the back garden.