Chapter 33
33
ROSE
Rose was crying as she ran into her mistress’s room, pausing only to knock out of courtesy, but the door was open and she was in such a blind panic, she didn’t wait for a reply. Eloise was sitting before her dressing table, still in her day dress, and had begun to unpin her hair as she waited for her maid to attend to her.
‘What on earth are you in such a flap about, Rose?’
‘Oh, miss. I can hardly believe what I’m about to tell you. Daniel Thornbury is dead.’ Her distraught squeak became a wail. ‘How can that be?’
It was her mistress’s turn to look pale, and her hands dropped to the stool and her fingers gripped the edge of the seat.
‘Dead? Not sick? Are you sure?’
‘The doctor was called but he was already stone cold, eyes wide and had no pulse. His poor father found him this morning, and thinks he passed away several hours ago. I was in the kitchens when their neighbour burst in to tell us all.’
In her confused state, she’d run straight upstairs to share the news with Miss Haughton.
‘If he believed himself unwell, why did he not seek medical assistance?’ Eloise’s voice was shaky and Rose could only assume her mistress was as upset as she.
‘Mr Thornbury senior had gone out for the evening, having left his son in bed. He’d been complaining of a headache, painful limbs and giddiness. They both believed he was coming down with a nasty cold, but the doctor, having examined him, obviously found something amiss. He wants to test for poisons but I can’t think why he is even considering such a thing.’
Rose couldn’t understand. Surely, he had not been so distressed by her refusal that he’d taken his own life? How else could he have consumed poison? It could hardly be an accident.
Eloise stood up and began to pace the room in her stockinged feet, with her half-unpinned hair trailing down her back. Her expression was one of intense concentration until she finally came to a standstill. ‘Can you not? And yet you gave Daniel a bottle of cordial. Had he drunk your gift, I wonder? And what exactly did it contain?’ Her mistress narrowed her eyes in thought. ‘You did tell him it was a cordial , I trust? A syrup to be diluted?’
‘But the gift was from you.’ Rose was confused. ‘And you didn’t give me any special instructions to pass on.’
Eloise clenched her fists but continued to speak as though she were an irrelevance, not bothering to acknowledge her statement. There was colour back in her mistress’s face now, and she wore a look of grim determination rather than the utter horror of moments before. Prickles of unease crept up Rose’s arms and across her shoulder blades. There was something very wrong about this whole situation, and she was starting to suspect what that might be.
‘How curious, also, that you bought those flypapers from the chemist not four days ago. Nasty things which, as we know, contain arsenic.’
‘But I purchased them on your instruction.’ Rose was now utterly terrified as her world began to crack and splinter before her very eyes.
‘Me? Don’t be so ridiculous. I have no need of flypapers. I understand the housekeeper keeps a supply in her locked stores, and I do not get involved in the ordering of domestic items. Why would anyone need papers in April? Really, Rose, the answer is disturbingly obvious. If arsenic is found in the cordial, you will have quite some explaining to do. It will not take the rumour mill long to turn in a small village like this, and for it to become common knowledge that you turned down his proposal. I’m afraid, if I am made to swear under oath, I will have to admit that you were heartily sick of his advances, that you confided to me that he had even tried to take you by force, and how angry that made you. Don’t forget, you came to me the other night in great distress and said you sincerely wished him dead.’
Rose looked at her mistress, mouth agape, as the truth finally hit her. Every word that was coming from her pretty pink mouth was a vile lie. Eloise had done this evil thing: poisoned a man simply because he did not want her, and framed the girl he loved. Perhaps she had not intended to kill him; her shock at the news was genuine enough and she was irritated with Rose for not telling Daniel to dilute the cordial, but she was behind his death – of this, she was certain.
The two women locked eyes and she knew her assumption was correct by Miss Haughton’s smug expression. Rose took a step backwards. She’d always known Eloise to be a spoilt girl. It had been apparent from her first day in service at this house; she had demanded the largest bedroom, facing the green, and her parents had acquiesced. David Haughton adored his daughter and would believe anything she told him: truth or lie. A slow churning began in Rose’s already constricting stomach. To be so calculated. This woman had decided if she couldn’t have something, then no one else would have it either – it was beyond madness.
‘I feel so utterly wretched for you, really I do.’ Eloise finally broke the silence. ‘Men can be such beasts. I’ll tell you what, how about we pretend this conversation never took place? I shall turn my back and allow you to leave this house without raising the alarm. In half an hour, I will ring the bell and ask where you are. There, now.’ She walked over to Rose and gently placed her hand on the maid’s cheek. ‘I really can’t say fairer than that. You always struck me as a bright girl, able to read and write, when many in your position can’t. You are well presented and resourceful; I’m sure you can start again somewhere. They will want someone to hang for this heinous deed but it won’t be me, and if you are a sensible girl, it won’t be you either.’
Frozen to the spot, as though her mistress’s touch had turned her to stone, Rose’s mind was racing. Everything she had done for this overindulged and entitled woman over the past few months had been their secret. She hadn’t talked about any of it with her fellow servants. Yes, people hereabouts would say she was of sensible character, a hard worker and a good Christian girl, but if it was Eloise’s word against hers, she would not be believed. Whispers of Daniel’s proposal and her subsequent refusal had already made it into the kitchens. Cook had even confronted her about it two days ago after dinner but she had given vague answers and made excuses to leave the room.
But to run away – surely that would only confirm her guilt?
‘Twenty-eight minutes…’
What else could she do? She had no real friends in Lowbridge and, whilst she rubbed along with the rest of the staff, there was always the barrier of her education, the other girls resenting her slightly. She had no family left alive and the one person she had grown close to at the house had betrayed her in the most heinous way. Her mother had always told her she was too trusting.
Miss Haughton’s duplicity was alarming, but the most distressing thing about this whole situation was that the man she had developed feelings for now lay dead. He had been the first person in so many years to look at her as an equal, to encourage her learning and praise her accomplishments. And when he had proposed, she knew that he was in earnest. Had Eloise not staked her claim and been in every way superior to her, she would have accepted him in a heartbeat. But Rose was loyal and honourable. She had stepped aside.
Daniel Thornbury was an innocent, killed by a woman scorned. Whichever way she looked at this, she knew the odds were not in her favour. She had no one to turn to, but Eloise had everyone, from her devoted parents to the most upstanding members of their small village community.
‘Twenty-seven…’
And Rose felt she had no option but to run.