The Female Line

Written from Maidstone Manor, Kent, England

The year of 1859, when I thirteen years old was the year everything set in motion. Not much had changed in my lifetime, in the last few years before then. If I had only imagined that I would not get intertwined in such evilness, and that I could be a young girl and try to idealise my future life as most young girls do, and then marry and watch my ideals become crushed. I did not realise that there were dark and mysterious goings on afoot at Maidstone Manor, and must have been for years before I realised. Yet it is foolish to think such things, to suffer this fate was my destiny.

*
The day I became aware of evil doings, was when I was rolling a ball around in Alain‘s spacious new bedchamber, trying in vain to attract his attention, but as he had fallen asleep, I distracted myself by playing with his toys, which were much more in number than my own.

Alain had grown to a quiet thoughtful child of ten years old, not quite as raucous as myself. His eyes were very similar to mine and my fathers, big and black, it made quite a contrast with his fair hair, and pale complexion. He was the ideal of the day. He had a certain way of charming the maids and his new tutor, which led to an increase in playtime, less arithmetic lessons and more food. However, I saw less of myself in him. Sometimes I questioned whether he and I were actually related; he was fair, graceful and charming, whereas I was olive skinned, inept and sometimes I felt I was dull.

I become conscious of the fact that I was neglected often. My art was progressive and my father surprisingly allowed me to have an art tutor. Perhaps he was more receptive than I thought. But apart from this, I hardly saw him.

My visits to Blue blood way had lessened since my fathers nursery had expanded. The Lady Catherine now had two other daughters beside the Lady Felicity, and was currently recovering from a disastrous miscarriage of a son, marring my fathers hope for a legitimate heir. Cecily, born a year after Felicity was moulded in the shape of her mother and older sister, whereas Rose, born a year after her, was modelled on my fathers mother, whose haughty picture I had seen in the portrait gallery. Rose, was the epitome of English Aristocracy, with a long nose, fair brown hair and a self importance that neither her two sisters had. She was the most spoilt by her mother. Cecily was a less prettier version of Felicity, yet with a caring kind nature and was my favourite of the three, as she behaved towards me with great respect.

I had noticed, my fathers visits to Maidstone in recent months had become increasingly frequent, and he paid Alain a lot more attention than me or the young ladies. His visits to Alain’s bedchamber were daily, and his advice to Nurse Amelia, who was still in charge of Alain was increasingly frantic.

‘Nurse, make sure the chamber and his adjoining study room are both scrubbed daily for fear of infection… Nay twice daily. I cannot risk anything to chance,’ and ’Nurse, now that the Lady Catherine has taken to her bed, I believe it is time to inspect the employees who currently attend the Master Alain and make sure they are reminded of their new duties to my new son, for they will be ever more stringent.’ Nurse Amelia patiently nodded, ‘Yes master,’ and added another item to her ever growing list regarding her management of the nursery.

But of course, the Lady Catherine had miscarried, throwing my fathers plans in disarray.
*

Alain currently had a small fever and was asleep, as I was prowling around his bedchamber. Usually I did not have such licence to do so, but I was allowed as I pleaded that I be allowed to read to him whilst he was abed. He was a very active child so it was unusual to see him so lacklustre. Yet, when I found him asleep I decided to amuse myself instead, using his new ball. As the ball rolled under the bedstead I slid under in an effort to retrieve it, nearly hitting my head in the process. I heard the maids bustle in as I did so, and I was silently maddened, as I should have requested they do so instead. But as I heard what they were saying, I suddenly went still.

‘A bit sad fer the master isn’t it?’ Said Elspeth, the lady who was tasked with scrubbing the chambers of the children twice a day. ‘Now that the grand Lady has not produced him a son. Thankfully fer us though, she miscarried. The mistress wel be pleased.’

‘Tis good for this little lad,’ replied Lilith, who was the new hired maid for the expanding nursery. ‘Sure, he’s illegitimate, but Montagu could well make him the next heir. A son is a son, and it is unlikely that his bird of a wife will sire another child after her string of failures.’

I frowned, as I realised why the Lady Catherine always looked sad, and for the first time I believed she must have hated my brother, though nothing cracked her composed exterior. I heard a creak as both women sat down on the rocking chairs near the hearth fire, where papa and Alain‘s tutor would often sit to discuss his progress. I thought, nurse Amelia would not be happy at the maids sitting so comfortably when Alain was ill.

‘The mistress will set afire to that bird.’ Said Elspeth, sounding somewhat scathing. ’Afterall, she breathes fire. She is a dragon, in comparison with this swallow. Tis hard to cross her.’

‘Yes yes.’ Lilith said crossly, ’Flattery is not the reason we are here, and do not speak thus of the bird, the mistress will see to her, and we will see to our own charges. We should not forget our duties after all, we know the consequences of failure.’

‘Oh yes, lets not speak thus’ Elspeth spat. ‘We must focus on tasks of ar own. The master is due ter go France soon, do you believe he may visit ar mistress? What must we do before then?’ My ears pricked up at the sound of France. I knew it was where my papa had a lot of land, and business as it was often drummed into my head by Miss Rivers. My father had insisted I have knowledge of his titles and lands, as it may come into use when I married. Then I thought, the heart of this conspiracy must lie there.

‘Oh yes,’ said Lilith in a creepy tone. ‘The charm may hold out long enough to keep his thoughts on our mistress, yet if it does not, we may be yet asked to renew it. You must prepare yourself my sister.’

‘Indeed, we must try and plead an indisposition to gather the herbs from the black forest on the edges of Aldermarch.’

‘Up ye be getting little lad,’ Lilith’s dry voice cut into my thoughts. I could hear her rise and her footsteps moved closer to his bedstead. She gently shook him. ‘After ye could be the next Lord Montagu of Maidstone, that nobody could deny.’

I heard the sound of Alain gurgling in response, as he rose from his sleepy stupor unaware of the women before him. I suddenly felt rather chilly, and frightened that he was alone with these evil women. For that is what I had decided they were. Alain had still not risen from his slumber.

‘What about the other?’ asked Elspeth suddenly.

‘She has fire in her soul, and at the very centre of her being,’ croaked Lilith, ‘she is due for a great destiny. She will be mistress of us all one day. We must then, take especial care of her, for she may change our fortunes.’

The maids both laughed, well, it sounded like laughter, but it had a scathing edge to it.
I knew at the time, their conversation was far more sophisticated for me to understand, yet I stored it in my memory, and decided I would understand it at a later date.

*
After they had left, Lilith carrying a weak Alain for his daily prescription of fresh air, I slid out from under the bed and smoothed out my dress. As I walked back to my bedchamber, my head was filled with thoughts of what I heard, half of what I did not understand. I could not fathom whether myself or Alain were in danger. However, when I thought it over I realised that it was my father who was in danger. This conspiracy related to my father, and through him stemmed towards myself and Alain. Should I tell my father? Would he believe me? It seemed my father was currently entangled up with their ‘mistress.’ However, another thought enveloped me quite suddenly - did I really mind if my father was entangled up in this conspiracy. After all, what did I owe him? He had taken me away from mamma.

But I knew what I heard concerned me. After all, what else did they mean by ‘the other.’ I did not understand whether I should relent and tell my father, or Nurse Amelia for that matter, of the vermin they employed.

I decided then, to take my sketchbook from the library, and lose myself in my drawings. I always felt safe when I drew. I found it extremely therapeutic, as drawing was a skill so natural to me. For myself, feeling safe was an emotion I craved, and I often found it, by getting engrossed in what I was drawing.

When I reached my spot in the garden, I sighed in relief. I sat down on my usual smoothed down stone and placed my leather sketchbook on my knees, and placed my head in my hands.

I felt for the first time that day, in a safe loving environment. I decided to finish my drawing of the striking woman. I had already sketched large black eyes, and full lips, red as raspberries. I had the hair to finish, and I decided to leave it loose, and draw a Grecian inspired dress, with long black locks to polish off the effect. The dress I imagined to be silvery and made of silk, with embellished straps and long tight full sleeves, with long elegant fingers clasped together - the epitome of loveliness.

Two hours later, I had finished. And glanced at my portrait. I had decorated the background with arches influenced by the neo gothic revival that inspired me heavily. My father, had previously bought back a leaflet detailing the restoration of the Upper Chapel of the Le Sainte-Chapelle. I thought it was simply divine, as the gothic elements really suited my style of art. It was spooky, and I thought it suited my portrait well. I painted my mother as the innocent, and the background was the darkness that she had been kept in, taken away from me.

I looked at the portrait and it comforted me. ‘What shall I do mamma?’ I asked, ‘Save me from this loneliness and tell me what to do.’

I half closed my eyes and imagined the portrait speaking back - ‘You must do what you feel is the right thing my love.’

*

When I finally returned to the Manor from the gardens I realised my drawing had done what I had intended, it had preoccupied me. Yet as the large regency door loomed ever nearer, so did my realisation that this conversation did occur. I did hear it, and I did not have the faintest idea what to do about it.

If I described myself, I would say I am a person who agonises over decisions, but when my decision is made, I will not modify it. As I entered the house, I decided to do nothing but to keep a closer eye on the vermin, and find out exactly what they were planning before I told anyone. I nodded silently to myself, I could not do anything until I had proof, so I had to befriend one at least, and somehow discover their secret, before I told anyone.

As I opened the great oak door of my bedchamber, I found Elspeth scrubbing the floor. She saw me immediately and sprang up, curtseying in a floppy way.

‘Sorree my lady,’ she said apologetically, ’I just thought I’d get your room done before you returned.’

I gulped and nodded. ‘Thank you’ I said meekly. My heart was beating extremely fast as she picked up her bucket and rose. I become conscious of the fact that this was not going to be easy.