Unexpected laughter close by caught her attention and she turned towards the stable where two boys stood in the doorway. Amy smiled at them, willing to share the joke, but this caused more amusement. Sniggering, the lads backed through the door into the stable and as soon as they were out of sight they let out another torrent of uproarious laughter. Confused, Amy retraced her steps to the kitchen.
Ellen Farrell emerged from the kitchen just in time to watch Leo mount his horse. She threw a disparaging look in the direction of the stables and held out a cup of warm milk to her daughter. ‘There you are, love, drink this. I shouldn’t be much longer now. Its Lady Deverell’s birthday today and they’re having a banquet tonight. The Mayor and his wife are coming, and others. Dora keeps finding me more jobs to do.’ Ellen raised her eyebrows and shrugged but was pleased really, knowing the extra shillings would come in handy.
Amy walked over to a low stone wall bordering the meadow side of the yard and sat down to wait for her mother to finish work. With her back to the cobbled yard and her legs dangling over the wall, Amy looked out over the surrounding fields towards the wood. She remembered the touch of Leo’s fingers and a slight tremor ran through her. Amy sipped the warm milk slowly, but it did little to quell the fluttering inside her.
***
At last Ellen emerged from the house. ‘What do you think? Dora has ordered four more bottles of my chutney, and asked me to do some extra hours again tomorrow. Lady Deverell suggested you sit upstairs with Beatrice while I’m working. I told her I don’t like you sitting out here on your own.’ Ellen looked around the yard. There was no sign of Leo or the stable lads now.
‘Won’t Beatrice mind?’ Amy said, swinging her legs over the wall and jumping down.
‘It isn’t her decision. Anyway, I don’t think she will mind. If you ask me the girl is lonely and will more than likely be glad of the company.’
The prospect of spending a few hours upstairs in Tapscott Manor thrilled Amy. Beatrice was Leo and Laurence’s younger sister and the same age as Amy. They had played together as children, but once Amy started working in the laundry, Beatrice’s attitude had changed. It was clear that now Amy was a servant, they could no longer be close friends.
Ellen slipped one arm through Amy’s. In her other arm she carried a basket of fruit supplied by the kindly Dora. The cloudless sky shimmered, and was empty except for a few buzzards dipping towards the shelter of the wood. Amy discarded her shawl on top of the basket, laying bare her slender arms, and Ellen could feel her daughter’s soft skin beneath her fingers.
‘I saw you talking to Leo,’ Ellen said lightly, and without thinking she added, ‘Be careful of him, Amy.’
The memory of Leo’s touch still lingered and Amy smiled in response to her mother’s worry.
‘It isn’t funny,’ Ellen reprimanded. ‘Leo drinks too much, and I don’t think he knows what he’s saying or doing most of the time. He’s breaking Lady Deverell’s heart with his goings-on that I do know. There’ll be scandal in the village before long, mark my words.’ Ellen had seen the lecherous way Leo gazed at Amy; Laurence too, despite his pious demeanour. Had Amy been born a lady, or from a suitable background, it would be acceptable of course. Leo and Laurence would only be two in a long line of eligible suitors wanting to take Amy’s hand in marriage. Her elder daughter was a beautiful young woman, but a woodsman’s daughter, a commoner. No, marriage wasn’t what they had in mind. Ellen thought of Lillian, her other daughter, and wished Amy had inherited Lillian’s quiet, placid nature. Lillian at fourteen was her father’s favourite. The sensible one he called her, and it was true.
The shortest way to Primrose Cottage, where they lived, was through Oakham Wood, and unless it had recently rained heavily, this was the preferred route home. To cut through the wood, Ellen and Amy took a path across the meadow and headed towards the trees, the path that Leo had ridden along earlier. They followed the track as it wound its way into and through the wood, and after the glare of the sun the shelter of shade was welcome. Eventually it brought them into a clearing. Felled trees, now taken away, had left stumps which formed a circle. Sunbeams speared down through the opening in the overhead branches and twinkled between the leaves.
‘Oh Mum, look, it’s like a fairy ring.’ Amy pointed out clusters of yellow-orange fungi which had luckily escaped the axe. They each chose a tree stump and sat for a while munching on apples, watching and listening to the wood come alive. Insects buzzed past, or stopped to examine late bluebells at Amy’s feet.
Munching on her apple, Ellen became aware of a sound in the wood she couldn’t place. She sat alert, trying to identify the noise. Wild cats had been seen in Delamere Forest. Was it possible they could have come as far as Oakham Wood? A flicker of fear swept over her and, not wanting to alarm Amy, Ellen finished her apple and stood, suggesting they carry on towards home.
As soon as Ellen was back on the path she saw Leo Deverell coming towards her, leading his horse. It had been the horse’s heavy clops and rattle of the harness that she’d heard and not wild animals after all. Relieved, Ellen waved to Leo.
When Leo drew closer to Ellen it became obvious to her that he had been drinking. Disgusted she turned back to her daughter. Amy had sat down again on one of the tree stumps. Exasperated Ellen called out to her. ‘Come on, Amy. Hurry up.’
Amy stood reluctantly and made up her mind to come back on Sunday. She would bring Lillian and her brother, Harry, and have a picnic, she decided. When Leo came into view Amy gaped and sat down again, quickly straightening the bodice of her dress.
Leo returned Ellen’s wave with an incoherent greeting. He staggered slightly and used Storm for support. Tethering the horse to a low branch Leo stumbled over to Amy in her fairy ring and knelt down on the ground in front of her. ‘We meet again, Amy,’ he hiccupped, and he reached out to grab her hand.
Amy took his hand in hers, pleased and excited to see him again. With her bonnet off, Leo began to stroke her long hair, twisting burnished strands around his fingers. Amy listened to his compliments spellbound, oblivious to his unpleasant drunken condition.
Seeing how Amy was pleased with Leo’s attention, Ellen drew closer, perplexed as to what she should do. She watched in dismay when Leo slid his hands around Amy’s slim waist and, frightened by what his intention might be, Ellen found her voice and stepped forward. ‘Leave her alone please, Leo,’ she said sharply. The urge to push him away was strong, but his status as the son of her family’s employer held her in check. Uneasy, Ellen clasped and unclasped her hands.
Leo leered at Ellen with a sly smile and waved her away with a hand. Then to Amy he said, ‘Just a little kiss, you would like that, wouldn’t you Amy?’
Ellen moved back a step but watched fixedly. She wondered where her husband, John, was. Could he still be working in the wood somewhere? Would he hear her if she shouted for help?
Holding Amy firmly, Leo pulled her head towards him and kissed her gently on the lips. Amy responded and closed her eyes and felt a tingling sensation flush through her body. She let out an involuntary giggle and Leo kissed her again, harder this time, pulling her down beside him on the rough ground. He felt for her small breasts and feeling the tiny buds harden under his fingers, he squeezed. Startled, Amy cried out and tried to push his hands away from her.
Leo laughed, delighted. ‘Like to play rough, do you?’ he sniggered, and he sat astride Amy, pinning her beneath him. He tore open her bodice, revealing pale skin.
Ellen rushed to protect her daughter. ‘Get off her’, she shouted as loudly as she could, hoping someone would hear. But Leo was ready for Ellen and backhanded her hard. He shoved her away from him, and as she stumbled he grabbed her ankle, causing Ellen to fall headlong onto one of the tree stumps where she lay dazed.
‘Are you jealous, Ellen?’ Leo leered. He seized the hem of Ellen’s skirt with one hand while his other clutched Amy’s neck. ‘I like your lovely daughter and she likes me, don’t you Amy?’ he said, glancing at Amy’s frightened face. Tears spilled down Amy’s cheeks as she tried to cover her small naked breasts.
Ellen stood up. Frustration and anger gave her a strength she didn’t realise she possessed. ‘Leave my daughter alone, you bastard,’ she shouted. Then, determined to overbalance Leo and get him off Amy, Ellen threw her full weight at him, grabbing a handful of his ginger hair. Twisting its coarseness around her fingers she tugged with all her strength. A clump of Leo’s hair came away in her hand and he yelled in pain.
Leo released his hold on Amy to pull Ellen’s hands away, and taking her opportunity Amy shuffled away along the ground, frantically trying to button up her bodice with one hand.
Awkwardly, swaying slightly, Leo stood and stepped away. He walked a few paces then bent over almost double, hands on his thighs. Ellen watched Leo and saw him take a deep breath. Was he sobering up, coming to his senses, she pondered. The possibility accompanied a fit of shaking, as Ellen speculated on the consequences of her actions. She wrapped her arms around herself to steady her nerves, wondering if Leo was man enough to apologise. Ellen saw Amy distancing herself from them and she called to her, ‘Run, Amy. Get home quickly.’
Before Ellen realised what was happening, Leo was by her side. He grabbed her arms, fingers biting into her flesh. ‘I mean to have her, you bitch, you can’t stop me,’ he screamed.
Leo’s face was so close Ellen could smell his foul breath and see red veins threaded through his lustful eyes, and then she felt the full force of Leo’s fist as it hit her face. Ellen stumbled backward, her head spinning, and disorientated she staggered towards Storm. The startled horse skittered in fright and kicked out, landing a sharp blow to Ellen’s head. Amy’s screams began to pierce her ears and Ellen wrestled with the darkness threatening to engulf her, until she spiralled down into unconsciousness.
Sobbing, Amy stood and looked at her mother lying on the ground, her face covered with blood. Certain Leo’s intention was to kill them both, and terrified, she ran out of the clearing into the cover of the trees. Once out of Leo’s sight she dodged behind a wide oak tree and, trembling, flattened herself against the trunk. The snap of a twig nearby froze her. Too frightened to look, Amy held her breath and clasped her hands over her mouth. Her hands helped to stifle sound, but did nothing to stop her flow of tears.
‘Amy, where are you? Don’t be scared, I’m not going to hurt you.’ Leo’s pleading voice sounded so near it caused Amy’s legs to shake. Without warning he stood in front of her, smiling coldly. ‘There you are.’ Leo grinned at Amy and began to slide his hands over her breasts. He traced a finger down her stomach then groped through the soft material of her gown. Pinning her to the tree he kissed her mouth and neck, and then suddenly he lifted her legs and dragged her down the tree. The jagged bark scraped the skin on Amy’s back and she cried out in pain. Leo discarded his breeches then ripped away the last remnants of Amy’s dress. Amy tried her best to fight Leo off, but her small fists were useless against the man’s strength.
***
Laurence Deverell, Leo’s brother, was on his way to Lower Shelton, to have tea with Reverend Scattergood and his family. He carried with him a bundle of books salvaged from his sister Beatrice’s now unused pile. They were presents for the rector’s children, Ruth and Mary.
The quickest way to Lower Shelton from Tapscott Manor was through Oakham Wood and the path he ambled along would eventually lead him to the main road. Lower Shelton’s vicarage was a fifteen minute walk from there. Once in the wood, the path twisted this way and that, and Laurence looked up in surprise when his twin brother Leo appeared up ahead. Laurence stepped to one side of the path to allow Leo and his horse to pass, acknowledging him with a raised hand. Leo ignored his brother and, without even a glance, continued along the track towards home.
His brother’s bad manners and slovenly appearance angered Laurence. It infuriated him to see Leo’s shirt, unbuttoned and lacking a cravat, hanging out over his breeches like a flag. Shaking his head in exasperation Laurence continued along the path, brooding on local gossip he’d heard about his brother. Laurence came to a place where trees had been felled and he stopped. A hush fell over the wood and, uneasy, Laurence listened to the silence, while even the trees held their breath. In the stillness Laurence heard a noise. With his ear turned towards the sound he peered intently between the tree trunks surrounding him. There … there it was again.
Cautiously Laurence left the path and followed the soft whimpering coming from behind the trees to his right. Purposefully avoiding bulky tree roots, Laurence stepped around a wide oak, completely unprepared for the sight before him. He looked down on Amy Farrell and knew immediately what had taken place. He glanced back along the track, cursing his twin.
‘Amy, Amy,’ Laurence said softly.
Amy’s eyes were open and glazed in shock. She looked straight through Laurence, revulsion and pain fixed in her eyes. She shook uncontrollably from head to toe and the trembling reverberated through her teeth. Scratches etched her arms and breasts, and blood trailed along the soft whiteness of her inner thighs. Laurence took off his jacket to cover Amy, and then picking her up without effort he carried her back towards the clearing of felled trees. She was weightless in his arms, pale and limp. Doll like. Gently he laid her down and positioned her head on a cushion of dried leaves and watched dark bruises beginning to form along her jaw.
‘Oh my dear Amy, what can I do to help you?’ Laurence asked pitifully, deliberating what he should do. The Farrell’s cottage wasn’t far away. Should he carry her straight home? Or would it be best to leave her here and go for help? Which was nearest, his home or hers? If he took her back to Tapscott Manor everyone would know what a bastard his brother was. Some already knew. Laurence pursed his lips, imagining his mother’s distraught face and his father’s anger. He knew they would rather not hear of this. They wouldn’t thank him for drawing attention to another of his brother’s sins, or for bringing shame upon the sacred Deverell name.