Authors: Rosemary Smith
‘Disappeared?’ I repeated the word with disbelief in my voice, confounded by these revelations, hardly believing Amelia would lie to me, let alone disappear. What had happened within the walls of Ravensmount to turn a happy carefree young woman into a frightened dishonest one? ‘And has she taken her possessions with her?’ I continued, determined at that moment to unravel this mystery.
Tobias looked down at me.
‘A couple of gowns and night attire,’ he said in a measured voice. ‘Everything else is in her room as she left it.’
‘Then she must intend to return for it,’ I said with triumph, at last thinking positively. Then another thought occurred to me. ‘Did Amelia receive the letter I sent informing her of my plans to visit?’
‘There was a letter, Miss Osborne, but it remains unopened. I will fetch it for you.’ As he spoke he strode from the room, returning immediately with a letter in his hand which he passed to me. It was indeed the one I had sent. I turned the cream-coloured envelope over and over.
‘Did Amelia know this was here?’ I queried.
‘No, she vanished the day before it came,’ he replied. ‘I must tell you Miss Osborne, that I have endeavoured without much success to trace your friend.’
‘I’m confident you have, Mr Tremaine.’ For indeed I was. ‘Now, if I can be reunited with my maid, I will make arrangements to stay somewhere overnight.’
‘You’ve travelled far?’ he asked, surveying me as he spoke and not giving me a chance to answer. ‘Silly question, Miss Osborne. I would not dream of you leaving without some hospitality, apart from which it is some four miles to the nearest hostelry, which is of dubious recommendation. You must stay here, Miss Osborne, for tonight at least.’
‘But,’ I commenced to protest.
‘I will not take no for an answer.’ As he spoke his black eyes sparkled and I thought for a second time what an attractive man he was.
‘Very well, Mr Tremaine, I accept your offer,’ I conceded, rising to my feet. How I longed to remove my bonnet, I thought, and wash away the grime of today’s travel.
‘Splendid. I’ll ring for Mrs Mallory.’ So saying he pulled the bell by the fireplace. ‘Luggage?’ he queried, smiling.
‘Why yes,’ I stammered, ‘my travelling trunk is deposited by the gateway.’
‘It shall be fetched for you forth-with.’ As he spoke the door opened. It wasn’t Mrs Mallory who stood there, but a beautiful dark-haired woman dressed in a powder blue day dress with pearls at her slender throat. She stood in the open doorway looking at us expectantly.
‘Miss Osborne,’ said Mr Tremaine, ‘may I introduce you to my sister, Rosalind.’
As he spoke Rosalind moved gracefully towards us.
‘Please tell me, brother, who is this charming young lady?’ Her voice was soft as she spoke and I observed she had the same black glittering eyes as her brother. Her dark hair fell in soft ringlets each side of her lovely face.
‘Miss Osborne is a friend of Amelia’s,’ he said. At his words a brief expression of dismay crossed her face, but just as soon was replaced by her beautiful smile.
‘Welcome to Ravensmount, I’m only sorry that Amelia is not here to greet you herself.’ Her voice was still soft, but somehow reticent.
‘I’ve offered the young lady our hospitality for the night, Rosalind,’ said Tobias.
‘Quite right too, brother. I shall take her to the rose room which is always ready for unexpected guests.’ Both sister and brother looked at each other as Rosalind spoke, trying to convey some unspoken sentence to each other I felt.
Then I broke the spell. ‘This is very kind, and my maid, Tilly?’ I questioned, needing to know that she was taken care of also.
‘Your maid can share with Emily for a night or two, indeed you are welcome to stay for as long as it pleases you.’
I wasn’t sure if this statement of Rosalind’s was true and as I followed her up the red thickly carpeted staircase and along the wide airy corridor I set to wondering if I was indeed being lured into a spider’s web.
We stopped outside a door at the end of a corridor. Rosalind opened it and we stepped inside. The room was not as I had expected and I had a sharp intake of breath. The panelled walls of the large room were white, and rose brocade curtains hung at the long window falling to the floor. The huge carved four-poster bed was adorned with the same rose brocade and the late afternoon sun spilled across the rose-coloured carpet.
A white marble fireplace faced the doorway, the coal and kindling wood laid ready to light in the black grate, and pink and white ornaments stood in profusion on the mantel.
‘What a charming room,’ I enthused, speaking to Rosalind who still stood by the open doorway. As I spoke I removed my bonnet, laying it on a small embroidered chair by the door.
‘Why thank you, it is one of the nicest bedrooms at Ravensmount and was at one time occupied by our mother.’ At these words an expression of sadness crossed Miss Tremaine’s face, but it quickly changed and she smiled at me. ‘I have no idea of your Christian name.’ She continued moving further into the room standing by the window, the rays of the sun surrounding her in a warm glow.
‘It is Sara,’ I answered, ‘and I would be most pleased if you would address me as such.’
‘Then I will, Sara,’ and she came across taking my hands in hers briefly, hands which were cold in spite of the warmth of the room. ‘You are nothing like your friend, Amelia,’ she said suddenly turning to look out of the window.
‘No indeed,’ I replied. ‘Amelia was as dark as I am fair, also pretty and vivacious.’ Silence followed my words for a couple of minutes after which Rosalind turned to me.
‘What do you know of Amelia’s background?’ The question was unexpected and I realised that I knew little about her, for we had only met three years ago at a finishing school for young ladies in Bath.
‘I know little of her background except that she lived with her uncle and aunt a short way from Taunton and had done so since she was a baby.’ In truth this was really all I could say about her.
‘So she is a mystery to you, Sara.’ Rosalind’s words were true I realised. My friend was indeed a mystery to me. I’d never thought of it before, having enjoyed Amelia’s company and friendship.
‘Yes, I suppose she is,’ I said quietly, ‘but I am worried about her wellbeing and have every intention of finding her.’
‘Well, I wish you well in your quest, Sara, and now I will arrange for water to be sent up and some refreshment also, for you must be parched on such a warm day.’
These words dismissed any further talk of Amelia and I had the strongest feeling Rosalind was relieved in some way, for her manner had changed and she seemed more relaxed.
As Rosalind went to leave I asked, ‘Which room did Amelia occupy?’
For some seconds there was no reply. ‘The room opposite yours on the other side of the corridor, but no clues will be found there,’ with which words the lovely Rosalind left me.
My first thought was to look out the window, where I could see that I was at the front of the house not far from the huge tree, where the ravens sat in rows on the thick branches obviously awaiting the next visitor. The sea beyond sparkled in the sun, stretching to infinity.
The fact that Amelia had not married the handsome Tobias was indeed a shock and now she had vanished and in what state of mind? And what did I really know about my friend? And why had she not written to me until the pleading missive I had received four weeks ago? What had happened in that short time? And indeed what had happened since she had arrived at Ravensmount last September? My thoughts were interrupted by a tap at the door and Tilly entered with another young maid dressed in a white mob cap and apron over a grey cotton dress.
‘Why Tilly,’ I exclaimed, ‘you look happy.’
‘I am Miss, this is Emily.’ She introduced the young girl who was a slip of a thing with brown hair perilously escaping her mob cap. They’d brought me jugs of water which they tipped into a beautiful pink bowl on a washstand by the bed.
‘Thank you, both of you.’ As I spoke they stopped chattering amongst themselves.
‘We’ll fetch you a tray of tea now, Miss,’ Tilly informed me as they both practically skipped out of the room giggling as they went.
I had a well needed wash with a fluffy flannel, soap and towel which lay in readiness on the marble topped washstand, after which I went to the white dressing table set between the window and the door. On each drawer were small oval paintings of young women of a past age, all plump and bonny, dressed in low cut dresses with short puffed sleeves. On the glass top was a pink glass tray with matching candlesticks and trinket boxes decorated with pink roses.
I reached for the hairbrush and tidied my hair, looking at my reflection in a bevelled glass mirror which was handsomely engraved with brightly coloured birds sat on branches of trees. It was then in the mirror that I caught sight of the portrait over the fireplace, strange I’d not noticed it on entering the room. I turned around and walked towards it, the picture was in a gold leaf frame, not large, but not small either.
I gazed at the young dark-haired woman depicted on the canvas. She stood sideways, but her cream face looked towards me, the dark sparkling eyes fringed by long dark lashes, her coal-black hair arranged perfectly back from her face. She wore a white low cut gown and a white fringed shawl was draped over her arms.
I was intrigued as she looked almost familiar and I searched my mind as to why, but no matter how hard I tried the answer eluded me. A sudden thought came to me. While all was quiet I would take a peep in Amelia’s room. I could see the bedroom door almost opposite mine and swiftly I walked across to it and turned the large enamelled knob, but to no avail, no matter how much I turned and shook the door would not budge and I realised that for some strange reason it was locked.
Deciding I did not wish to be in my room for the rest of the day, I walked back along the corridor. Before I reached the main staircase I spied a small wooden one at the same side as my room. This must lead to the back of the house, I reasoned, and with that thought in mind I lifted my skirts at the front and made my way down the steep steps which twisted to the left and led into a dark dismal corridor quite unlike the one I’d just walked down.
There was a studded metal door on the left which reminded me of a prison. I shuddered at the thought and walked on feeling quite cold in the damp atmosphere. Thankfully there was a door ahead of me and I could see chinks of daylight through the cracks in the wood. As I opened it I was startled to bump headlong into a man who caught my arms to steady me.
‘Why, Mr Tremaine,’ I uttered, ‘I am sorry, I wished for some fresh air.’
‘Do I know you?’ he queried setting me at arm’s length, and I realised foolishly it was not Tobias Tremaine, but he was so like him I could be forgiven for my mistake. As I looked over his shoulder through an arch of honeysuckle I caught sight of a young woman.
‘Amelia!’ I called loudly, for I was certain it was her. ‘Amelia,’ I reiterated, but my captor, for that it what it seemed, restrained me from running after her and tears of frustration filled my eyes as I looked into the dark ones of the man who held me against my will.
‘Please let me go,’ I pleaded with annoyance, wriggling to try and set myself free, but he held my arms tighter and with one first had caught hold of my wrist. ‘How dare you?’ I almost spat at him.
‘I have no intention of letting you go until you tell me who you are and what you know of Amelia?’ By his voice I could tell he was amused and I fought harder, bending suddenly to bite the hand which held fast my wrist so tightly it was painful, but I only managed to graze his skin.
‘Blast you!’ I shouted.
‘Young lady, I have no intention of harming you. Just tell me who you are, for you could by logic be an intruder.’
‘My name is Sara Osborne,’ I obliged him, ‘and I am a friend of Amelia’s. Tobias Tremaine has offered me a room for the night, as I appear to have travelled all the way from Bath today on a fool’s errand.’
‘Have you indeed,’ he said quietly. ‘Now I am going to release you and I beg you not to run from me.’ As I struggled once more he held me tighter. ‘Promise?’ he said laughing.
‘I promise,’ I conceded, for my wrist was sore and as he released me I could see how red it was from his strong grip. I smoothed my hand across it gently, all the while meeting the dark eyes of this stranger who stood watching me with some amusement.
‘I apologise profusely,’ he said quite sincerely, ‘but you could have been anyone.’
‘I really don’t know if I can accept that apology, Sir, and now I’ve told you who I am, may I ask the same of you?’ I realised that I spoke with a trembling voice, the whole incident had upset me far more than I cared to admit.
‘Miss Sara Osborne,’ he said startling me by taking my hand and kissing the back of it, ‘I am Michael Tremaine, Tobias’ brother.’
‘Well,’ I said in confusion, ‘I’m not going to say I’m pleased to meet you for I can’t say that I am.’
‘Let me redeem myself, please, Miss Osborne, and walk with you in our beautiful garden,’ he implored, the amusement leaving his voice.
‘Very well, if you must,’ I agreed, ‘for I am in need of some fresh air.’ Michael crocked his arm for me to take which I did with little grace. We stepped through the arch of the honeysuckle into a garden which took my breath away. The heady fragrant scent of dog roses invaded my nostrils and the garden before me was wild and beautiful.