Chapter 14 #2
That didn’t sound very healthy to me, but I said nothing.
I thought of the gravestone out in the rose garden, next to the pets.
Mary Elizabeth Favisham Trevarron. 1852-1865.
Blessed child. What other child had there been in this family, and what had become of her?
I shivered at the apparent coldness that they could bury a child with so little care. As if she, too, was an animal.
‘And you, sir. A fine voice.’ Lord Albert turned to William.
‘You know, I was looking at you when you arrived, and when you danced with your young lady, here. You have such a look about you.’ He measured William’s face with his eyes, a curiosity in his expression.
But there was also a tinge of suspicion in his words.
‘If I didn’t know better, I would say that you had the Trevarron look. ’
‘How strange, my lord.’ I laughed prettily, as if what Albert Trevarron had just said was the most completely impossible thing I’d ever heard. ‘Why, we are just a normal couple, from Penzance. Visiting my cousin in St Nantes.’
‘Hm. Penzance. Really.’ Albert hadn’t stopped staring at William.
William, because he had been raised as a lord, been boxing champion in the Navy and never backed down from a fight in his life, was returning the stare in what might have been interpreted as an aggressive manner.
I willed him to look away meekly, but meek wasn’t in William’s DNA.
‘Yes. Do you know it?’ I interjected, trying to distract Albert.
‘I do. I am there from time to time. I should like to hear you both sing again. Perhaps I will look for you in the taverns when I am next visiting.’ He continued to stare at William.
‘You know, you really do have the Trevarron look. My grandfather had the same nose. The dark hair and eyes. Even the bone structure. It’s remarkable.
’ He held his hand up towards William’s face, as if he was going to touch it. William looked faintly murderous.
Then, as suddenly as he had become fascinated, Albert looked away.
‘Fascinating.’ His tone had changed. ‘Very possibly you are the result of some whoring of my father’s.
’ He shrugged. ‘Some of my ancestors were renowned for their bastards. One was a murderer, even. On the Trevarron side, of course – this is going back in time now, many years before you or I were born, my good fellow. The Favishams were more refined stock. I hear they were some real brutes, once upon a time, the Trevarrons.’ He laughed merrily, as if he hadn’t just insulted William and his parentage.
‘Did you know your father? Your mother was likely some kind of local strumpet, I imagine. So common in the lower classes,’ he added.
‘Oh, I’d heard it was very much the reverse,’ I said, seeing rage flare in William’s dark eyes.
I gripped his wrist and dug my fingernails into his skin, to warn him to stay silent, despite the obvious provocation.
Albert was asserting the superiority he believed was his because of his lordship; he didn’t care if he offended us. We were nothing to him.
I knew that if I didn’t step in, William would lose his temper, and that couldn’t happen.
I knew how difficult it must be for William to stand there and listen to that absolute rubbish: especially when the murderer that Lord Albert was talking about was probably himself.
William wasn’t a murderer or a brute: far from it.
Lord Albert, on the other hand, was apparently famed far and wide for his ready fists.
‘What’s that, my dear?’ Lord Albert frowned and leaned in, smiling beneficently.
‘Oh, I was just saying that I’d heard it was the Favishams who were brutes, not the Trevarrons?’ I replied, smiling innocently. ‘Of course, both families are your ancestors. How fortunate that you are so thoughtful and kind a lord as to throw this lovely party for your daughter,’ I added.
‘Indeed.’ Albert regarded me with a surprised look. ‘It is a pleasure. It behoves a lord to recognise his community.’
‘My lord – I wanted to know; I wonder if you could tell me?’ I plunged on, before Albert could take in the fact that I’d just contradicted him, and borderline insulted his family, too.
‘My husband and I were taking a walk in your beautiful rose garden just before the party, and we noticed the gravestone of a young girl. Mary Elizabeth Favisham Trevarron. I was wondering who that was?’ I kept the innocent look on my face and turned my eyes up to him in supplication.
The benefit of being thought stupid because of my gender and class – or at least, what Albert Trevarron thought I was – meant that I could get away with asking apparently innocent questions.
‘That was my other daughter, Violet’s sister,’ he answered, flatly. ‘She died two years ago.’
‘I’m so sorry to hear that, milord.’ I bowed my head respectfully. ‘How did she die?’ I wanted to know. There was something very odd about burying your own daughter among the animals.
‘What an impertinent question,’ Lord Albert replied, steely now.
‘I can see that you must indeed be simple country folk to think it appropriate to ask such a thing. Mary Elizabeth was… a special child.’ He paused, looking as if he was going to say more, then stopped himself.
‘I expect Mrs Feathers will give you some food and lodging for the night. I will bid you both a good evening.’ He turned away, but I could tell that I had hit a nerve.
‘What a…’ William swore, choosing some particularly crude Navy terms for our host as soon as he was out of earshot. ‘What did he say? That I am a by-blow of some local whore? How dare he besmirch my family name!’
‘He’s a horrible little man. Don’t pay him any attention,’ I said. ‘Remember, the only reason we’re here is so we can sneak off to the rose garden. Which I think we can do now, if we are subtle about it.’ I looked around but didn’t see Mrs Feathers anywhere. ‘Come on.’
‘Hmph.’ William glowered. ‘I hate knowing what an intolerable arse-wipe my family has produced. He would be Edith’s progeny, then?’ William followed me through the crowd. ‘With Favisham. That unholy brute. It’s no wonder that this Albert Trevarron has turned out so badly.’
‘Shh.’ I frowned at him.
‘No one is listening to us.’ William dismissed my concerns with a frown. ‘Did you see that poor woman, his wife?’
I nodded.
‘She looks terrified of her own shadow,’ I agreed, getting to the main doors of the ballroom.
No one had paid any attention to us leaving.
We’d served our purpose, and now everyone wanted to return to the party.
‘I keep wondering what happened to Mary Elizabeth. A special child. What does that mean? As soon as I mentioned it, he walked away.’
‘I do not know. It is most mysterious. I cannot stop thinking about Edith. I can only imagine the life of pain she must have endured with Favisham. Just like Lady Hermione, or worse. She had to do it without me there to look after her.’ William’s hands balled into fists.
‘There must be some way I can go back and help her.’
‘I know, William. But if you go back, you know what will happen. Simon Favisham would have you thrown in prison. He wanted Trevarron, and he took it. You can’t go back to the same timeline where you already are.
Evelyn’s book said there can’t be two of you in the same timeline.
I want to help Edith, too. I do. We will find a way.
But unless you want to stay in the nineteenth century, you know what I think.
I think we need to go to the twenty-first century and work it out from there. ’
‘I don’t know what I think anymore,’ William said, morosely.
It was then that I looked across the crowd and saw Aunt Bill.