Authors: Rosemary Smith
The room was dark, the fire burning low in the grate giving little light, the sobbing was louder yet quieter than I expected it to be.
As my eyes adjusted to the darkness I could see a figure huddled on the armchair by the chimney breast. The sobbing ceased and the woman looked up.
‘Who’s there?’ she called quietly and to my astonishment I could see it was Justine.
‘Justine!’ I exclaimed. It’s you! What on earth is going on? I can’t believe you’re in here!’
‘Yes, it’s me, Barbara,’ she said quietly, sobs still escaping her lips.
‘What is the matter, why do you weep so?’ I asked her gently, going over to put my arm around her shoulder.
‘It’s my mother, sometimes I just can’t help feeling so sad about her, and now I’ve received this letter,’ she said, showing me the missive which she was clutching in her hand. ‘After twenty years I don’t know if someone is playing a joke on me.’
‘What does it say, this letter?’ I asked with curiosity.
‘Read it for yourself. I cannot believe that anyone would play such a cruel trick on me,’ she said more rationally now, her sobs subsiding as she handed me the letter. I opened it up, smoothing it out for it had crumpled somewhat in Justine’s hand and looking at it with some difficulty by the dim light from the fire I read,
Shrewsbury the 26th February, 1842.
Dear daughter,
You will be shocked and surprised to hear from your mother after twenty years, for I left Rowan Castle when you were only eight years of age. I have been living in Venice where I have pursued my love of painting and am back in Shrewsbury to visit a sick friend.
What your father has told you, if anything, before his death, of my leaving I have little idea. Although this will be a shock to you, could you see it in your heart to come and see me. I would come to Rowan, but I don’t somehow think that I would be made welcome. I am staying in room 44 at the Duchess Hotel and will be here until the 7th of March.
I wish to explain to you what happened all those years ago and would find it easier to tell my daughter than my sons. You can send a message to me here at any time and I pray you will see it in your heart to do so.
Your mother,
Annabel Alexander.
I read the letter through twice before looking at Justine.
‘I think this is a genuine letter and you must go to her. I would were I in your position,’ I told her honestly.
‘Do you really think so?’ she said, taking the letter from my hand and reading through it once more. ‘You are right, Barbara. I must go and see her, for there is much I wish to know. Please say you will accompany me,’ she pleaded.
‘I will come with you, for I can see that you need some company,’ I said thoughtfully.
‘Thank you, Barbara. We can tell Kieran and Derrick that we are going to pick a headdress and shoes, which indeed we can,’ Justine said brightly, for now she had a purpose and I wished to help her for this sadness could not continue.
‘This is your mother’s room, isn’t it?’ I asked.
‘Yes it is, and for many years I did not bother with it, but for the past few months I have felt that life is passing me by and I kept wondering if I had a mother, would things have been different and a great sadness came over me. That’s when I decided to busy myself and create mother’s room just as I remembered it. On the days I feel the sadness I come here and somehow it helps me, I have cried so many tears in this room,’ Justine told me.
‘I know, for since I have been in the yellow room I have heard you,’ I told her. ‘But no more, we will visit your mother and hopefully you can put all this sadness behind you,’ I encouraged her. Now, let us go back to bed for it is chilly in here now the fire has burned low and also very dark.’ At which words we giggled, and made our way back to our rooms linking arms.
So it was that two days later Justine and I were in the carriage travelling to Shrewsbury, our trunks along with us. Kieran had been delighted for us to go without any suspicion and as we drew away from the steps at Rowan Castle, my betrothed stood by the door waving to us until we were out of sight.
Justine and I had needlework to keep us busy through the evenings, for I was needing petticoats and nightdresses. We were becoming closer as each day went by for which I was thankful, for I was growing ever fonder of her.
We arrived at the Duchess Hotel in Shrewsbury at nearly four o’clock in the afternoon, it was a very grand place which overlooked the River Severn. We swept into the lobby, Justine in the pink which so became her and me in my royal blue outfit which I had worn to the hearing which now seemed such a long time ago.
We were to share an apartment and as Justine signed the register I looked around me at the round marble pillars and all the activity which was going on in the foyer. Through French windows I could see tables laid for dinner with white and yellow tablecloths, the glasses shining even from here. How things had changed for me, I mused, in such a short space of time.
We chose to walk up the wide sweeping staircase, the gold-coloured carpet thick and soft beneath our feet. The doors along the corridor were white and gold with gold inlaid in the cream wallpaper.
How luxurious it all seemed to me and when I saw our apartment my breath was almost taken away; gold brocade covered the couch which was drawn up before a white marble fireplace which was inlaid with gold and the luxurious gold carpet continued in here also, while two beds with white and gold bed heads stood in each alcove, a gold quilt carefully covering the mattresses.
A fire burned in the beautiful grate emitting a warmth for which I was thankful for after the long journey, I felt decidedly cold.
‘There’s a bathroom!’ exclaimed Justine as she opened a door. I went across to look at what she’d discovered. We stood side by side inside the doorway gazing at the huge white enamel bath with large gold taps which stood in the middle of an otherwise almost empty room, apart from a very grand washbasin decorated with pink roses and green leaves. Justine and I hugged each other.
‘What an adventure!’ I said going across to the ottoman which stood at the end of one of the beds and laying my bonnet on it.
‘Come and look at the view,’ said Justine who was standing by the window. The light was now fading outside, but I could see the river, the lamplight reflecting an orange glow on the water. There were still people arriving and we stood for some time
watching the comings and goings.
‘I think we should freshen up and leave a message for your mother at the desk,’ I said to Justine. ‘And then maybe we should have dinner and an early night.’
To which Justine agreed, just as there was a discreet knock at the door, and on opening it, I could see that our luggage had been brought up by two porters in very grand gold silk waist-coats. They put our trunks where I’d indicated and I reached in my reticule for two florins to give the young men as Kieran had instructed me.
After washing away the grime of the journey and changing into evening gowns, Justine in blue, which matched her piercing blue eyes and I in a soft green which brought Kerensa to mind. We’d not seen her since she had put a curse on Kieran and I that fateful day; at the thought of him I suddenly felt homesick for Rowan Castle.
We walked down the staircase and young men lifted their hats to us, stopping to let us pass. We nodded in acknowledgement and one particular young man with dark hair and warm brown eyes smiled at Justine and bowed before her. As we reached the lobby, Justine looked back to see him retracing his steps down the stairs.
‘Can I escort you to dinner, ladies?’ he asked in a cultured voice. He was tall and prepossessing and Justine had obviously warmed to him.
‘We have to leave a message for someone,’ she said and looked at me.
‘We’d be delighted for you to accompany us, Sir,’ I said, ‘if you will excuse us for a moment.’
The young man hovered behind us at a discreet distance and I could see as I observed him that he didn’t take his eyes off Justine. We left a message for Mrs Annabel Alexander in room 44 to join us for coffee in the foyer tomorrow morning at eleven.
Our business attended to, the young man took each of us by the arm and escorted us into the dining-room. We sat at a round table with gleaming wine glasses and sparkling cutlery laid on a white damask tablecloth. While I was taken with my surroundings, Justine was taken with the young stranger.
‘It is rude,’ he began, ‘to ask a lady’s name before offering one’s own. I am Daniel Madison from Wales and I feel the most fortunate of men to have encountered two such lovely young ladies,’ he said, all the while looking at Kieran’s sister.
The evening went well, we found that he was on business in Shrewsbury and lived in Porthmadog which was quite close to Rowan Castle.
Justine laughed and chatted all evening, her mother quite forgotten, for which I was pleased. I had not seen her so animated and alive since I had met her. We left Mr Madison at the foot of the staircase, agreeing to walk with him by the river after breakfast the next morning.
On reaching our room, Justine couldn’t stop talking about him and I was pleased for her and prayed that the association would fair well. Which it did, with me walking a few steps behind them the following morning as we walked alongside the lovely river; which brought to mind my walks with Kieran, and then it was time to meet Annabel.
We sat together anxiously on a gold couch in the foyer looking at every middle-aged woman who walked past us; and suddenly, there she was standing before us in a cream-coloured gown. I recognised her instantly from the portrait and so did Justine, age had not altered Annabel Alexander much, except for a few streaks of grey hair she looked as she had when she had come to Rowan as a bride.
‘Mother?’ questioned Justine as she stood up and went towards the lovely woman and they embraced each other so suddenly that tears sprang to my eyes. When they had drawn apart, mother and daughter sat together and I felt intrusive.
‘Would you like me to leave you?’ I asked.
‘Who is your charming friend?’ asked Annabel, her voice soft with a trace of the Welsh accent still in her speech.
‘This is Barbara, who will shortly be my sister-in-law,’ Justine introduced me. ‘And I would like you to stay, if that is all right with you, Mother?’ she said and I noticed there was no hesitation when she spoke the word ‘Mother’. And as they talked while we drank coffee from delicate white china cups, it was as if the years between them meeting again had dropped away.
‘So you are to marry my son?’ said Annabel gently, including me in the conversation.
‘Yes, I truly am most fortunate,’ I told her honestly.
‘How I wish I could be there to see it,’ she said wistfully.
‘Well you can, Mother. Please return from Venice to attend Kieran and Barbara’s wedding,’ pleaded Justine.
‘But it is not as simple as that,’ said Annabel laying a hand gently on Justine’s arm, ‘your two brothers may not wish me to come to Rowan. They may not be so welcoming as you and I couldn’t blame them.’
‘Why did you leave?’ asked Justine, Tor you said in your letter you wished to explain. Whatever the reason I am so pleased to have you here and would like nothing more than for you to come to Rowan and sleep once more in your room.’
‘I would like that too, now your father is gone,’ Annabel said, looking directly into Justine’s eyes. ‘I will tell you simply why I left you all as young children. Your father beat me many times until I was black and blue when he was drunk; and then he brought his mistress to the castle. How I hated him for that, she had red hair and beautiful green eyes and he paraded her in front of me.
‘The beatings I could stand for all your sakes, but not the humiliation of having Hannah strutting around the castle as if it were her own. So I left one dark night with little to my name except the clothes I stood up in and a valise containing miniatures of my children and a few personal belongings.
‘I loved to paint and fled to Venice where I painted day and night to try and mend a broken heart, for my heart ached for the three of you, but there could be no return, and thank God Jacob never found me or he would have dragged me back by my hair.’ Here she stopped.
‘And why have you not contacted us before?’ While Justine asked the question, I thought of the red-haired Hannah and Kerensa, the similarity was surely more than a coincidence.
‘Because, my child, I didn’t know how you would receive me. This is the first time in twenty years that I have stepped on English soil and I knew this may be the only chance I get to make amends,’ she told her daughter. ‘I heard of Jacob’s death, but feared to come too soon.’
‘How I wish you had, Mother,’ said Justine with tears in her eyes.
‘Hannah I know had a child and Hannah herself died not long after the child was born,’ said Annabel.
‘It must be Kerensa,’ Justine said more to herself than to us. ‘I’ve always hated her and now I hate her even more,’ she said vehemently.
‘You mustn’t blame her,’ said Annabel softly.
‘But I do,’ said Justine, ‘For she is rude and arrogant.’
‘Her mother’s daughter then,’ observed Annabel.
‘I had my suspicions that she may be our father’s child for he left a clause in his will that she should not marry my brothers, so it doesn’t come as a shock. What I want now more than anything, is for you to come to Rowan for Barbara’s wedding,’ Justine pleaded once more. ‘We will go back and speak to Kieran and Derrick to pave the way for you. Please say you will come.’
‘What I will do is delay my return to Venice. When you arrive home you can send word to me and if all is well I will visit Rowan and then make a decision about the wedding, which is when?’ she said, looking kindly at me.