Chapter 3
Elizabeth’s new parents and brothers resolved that when she was old enough to understand the circumstances of how she became a member of the family, it would be fully disclosed to her.
Lizzy loved to run, her short legs pumping furiously at every opportunity to evade, but after the tragedy with Tiffany, her parents made sure she had two nursemaids with her at all times and she was always carried up and down the stairs, much to her chagrin.
She was not a wilful child, so she obeyed her parent’s wishes to never go near the stairs or attempt to climb them on her own.
The vivacious little mite seemed happiest when she was outdoors and free to run on the grass, she also seemed to have a penchant for taking walks through the gardens.
She was fascinated by the maze and had found her way out on her own on her third try—something that no other child had accomplished to date.
She was never allowed to go into the maze on her own; she was always accompanied by one of her new and doting brothers.
The light had returned to Snowhaven. It was not that Tiffany had been replaced, she would always reside in her family’s hearts, but there was just something intangible about their new daughter and sister.
It was as if she had been gifted to them by God and just her presence was enough to make one feel better.
Slowly but surely Elaine Fitzwilliam’s heart repaired itself.
It had almost broken her when Tiffany tumbled to her death; her grief compounded by the fact that she knew that she would not be able to carry another child again.
Each minute that her new daughter was with them, Lady Elaine felt her heart heal.
Where her household had been subdued and dour, it was now lit up with smiles and happiness.
Everyone, down to the lowest scullery maid seemed to lighten in step and burdens as the joy that had arrived with the petite girl was infectious.
Elaine was cognisant of the fact that as happy as she was to find Lizzy, that somewhere in the world was a family that was correspondingly sad to have her missing.
Having lost her own daughter less than a year before, the Countess could empathise with the pain that the unknown father Lizzy had once hoped to see was feeling.
As much as she never wanted Lizzy to leave them, she knew that if her birth family ever found their daughter, and despite how much it would kill her, she would relinquish Lizzy back into their care, once she was assured they understood the treasure they unwittingly lost. Her fear and anxiety found some relief when she considered that even if Lizzy were reunited with her original family, the bonds she was establishing here would never be broken.
Notices were sent to all close friends and family about the adoption of their daughter.
The Earl and Countess were sure that approbation would be universal with the exception of one quarter—Reggie’s older sister Catherine.
As they almost always chose, they did not allow her disapproval to affect them, and if the self-styled great lady said or did anything to upset their Lizzy, it would be many years before they would allow their daughter in her strident aunt’s company again, if ever!
~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~
Fanny Bennet awoke in the bed at the cottage she had quickly come to despise.
She had an awful headache and could barely move.
The new young apothecary and doctor, Mr Jones, the third son of a minor gentleman, was talking in hushed tones to her hated husband while looking at her with pity.
Mr Jones shook his head to a question that Bennet asked then left the bedchamber.
“Why do you look at me like that?” she asked weakly.
“I do not know how to say this delicately, so I will just tell you, Mrs Bennet,” Bennet’s voice was steady and devoid of emotion.
“You will die, and soon.” Seeing his soon to be late wife blanch, Bennet shrugged nonchalantly.
“When you fell, you hit your head rather hard. Mr Jones says that you are bleeding in your skull and there is naught he can do to stop it. As the pressure increases, you will succumb, most likely before the sun rises on the morrow.” As much as he was sorry to lose the babe that she was carrying, he could not make himself feel any regret for the woman’s impending death.
“At least I know I will go to my grave having rid the world of that demon you loved so well!” she retorted, but her weakened state meant that the malice she intended to spit at him was but a whimper.
“What did you do to my Lizzy, Fanny?” he demanded as he advanced menacingly toward her prostrate form.
If she were not about to die, he felt like he would have strangled her himself.
She very proudly told him how she had planned and executed her plan and had his little spawn killed.
“I do not believe you, not even you could be that evil!” Bennet said hoping against hope that she was spouting what she assumed would most hurt him.
“I have proof!” she cackled weakly and pointed to her closet. “Look in the bottom right-hand corner, there under my shoes and slippers which is just where she belongs, below my shoes!”
Bennet tore the doors open and frantically threw her shoes aside until he saw it, the small chest that had once held her paltry jewellery. His world almost stopped as he removed the chest, held it, and then turned to look at her, his heart dropping at the insane and evil smile.
“Your precious, precocious daughter’s heart!” she spat out.
On hearing the commotion, Mr Jones returned to the bedchamber. Bennet handed him the chest as he could not bring himself to open it. The younger man opened it, assessed its contents, and frowned in confusion as he looked back up at Bennet.
“Why would you hand me a deer’s heart?” he asked.
“Are you sure it is not human?” Bennet held his breath at the sliver of hope the doctor was offering.
“Absolutely sure. When we trained, often times there were no human bodies available so we would study organs from other mammals.” Jones lifted the organ and turned it every which way. “I am as sure about this as anyone could be that this is not a human heart.”
“You lie!” Fanny screeched with all of the force left in her dying body. “He…” she stopped herself, even as she lay dying, she would not give the man any clues to search for the devil’s spawn.
Seeing that even now her wrath was implacable and that she would tell them nothing, Bennet looked at her with disgust. “You will burn in hell for this!” he spat out then turned and left without saying goodbye.
The only good she had done was giving him Jane and Lizzy; she had been dead to him long before this day.
She gasped, intent on having the last word but the stress must have caused something to burst in her brain.
She felt the most excruciating pain she could have imagined, and her world faded to shades of red as she felt herself being consigned to the fires of Hell.
The former Fanny Gardiner died with visions of the demon girl taunting her during her decent through its depths.
When Mr Jones arrived at the manor house and was shown into the master’s study, he informed Mr Bennet that the woman had died.
Bennet felt relief and immense pain at the same time.
He felt guilty for having not taken more steps to protect his Lizzy for he was very aware of the vitriol that woman had spewed against his innocent child.
His first reaction was to pour as much money into a search for her as possible, but a look at the desk where he had tallied the days since she was missing forced his rational mind to take over, concluding that after so many months of searching the chances of something being uncovered now was almost impossible.
After Hattie Phillips told him that she had seen her sister exiting Sam Hodges’s house one day, Bennet suspected that Hodges was his wife’s paramour and was somehow connected with Lizzy’s disappearance.
He had sent men to the southern shires to search for both him and the maid Jenny Brown, but no clue to either’s location was uncovered.
Bennet had begun to accept that he would never see his beloved daughter again in the mortal world.
With agreement of her siblings, and given what they suspected she had done, Bennet refused to wear mourning garb for the former woman who he had been forced to share his name with.
His brother-in-law Edward Gardiner had a wedding date set for a fortnight hence and would not change it for his sister’s death.
From the day she was buried in Potter’s Field, the evil and suspected criminally insane woman would never again be mentioned by any of them.
The one bright spot for Bennet was the close relationship he had formed with Mrs Tammy Manning.
She had become a rock they could all lean on, and Jane had come to regard her as her mother rather than a servant.
He had long noticed that Mrs Manning was as refined as any gentlefolk that he knew, so he had made enquiries about the widow’s background soon after she had started to work for him.
He discovered that she was, in fact, born a gentlewoman.
Her father had owned a small estate, but was unfortunately a heavy gambler, who never had much luck.
On a night when the then ten-year-old Tammy was visiting a relation, her father, who had lost everything including their home, set it on fire.