She looked at the carriage clock quietlyticking on her bedroom fireplace. Mary would be finishing work in abouthalf an hour. Edith thought about what to do while she waited. Shehad an idea. Rather than wait around the house, she would walk down tothe Blackfriars gates and collect some of the lovely wild flowers growing thereand meet Mary on her way up the path. She will love that, Ediththought. I’ll pick some flowers for her and some for Mother. Edith was so taken with the idea that she bound down the stairs and out of thehouse without saying a word to her father or to Caroline. Her fatherwouldn’t have even uttered a response, but she was sure that Caroline wouldhave some bilious remark to make.
Edith closed the door behind her andstepped out into a beautiful April day. The day was unusually warm andall of the houses that she passed had their windows flung wide open, releasinga burst of the sounds and smells from within. Knowing that her neighboursmight see Edith in her new dress with her music-hall-star haircut gave her anextra spring in her step.
The picturesque flowers nestled around thebase of the large stone Blackfriars pillars came into view: a stunningconcoction of pink fairy foxgloves, white fritillaries, yellow Jew’s mallow andpink sorrel, all bathed in a pool of gorgeous sunlight. Edith hurriedover to them and, with a warm contented smile, she set about plucking some ofthe stems from the ground. In just a few minutes, her left hand wasfilled with the delightful flowers. Mother and Mary will absolutelylove these! Edith told herself. But it needs more colour. She knew places just inside the Blackfriars estate where she could find somesuperb white field pansies. And then there were the bluebells just theother side of the old abbey ruins. She knew that it was technicallytrespassing, but everyone in the village helped themselves to the odd flower orpinched a bit of fruit every now and then. Nobody would mind, she toldherself as she stole into the grounds.
She walked slowly down the path towardsBlackfriars, basking in the warm sunshine and the inner glow that she wasfeeling. In just a few moments she would meet Mary walking up the pathand she would hand her a big bunch of flowers. She was so relieved tohave patched things up with her twin. Like all sisters, they had theirups and downs but they shared a bond which could never be broken.
Edith spotted the white field pansies justoff the path and headed towards them. She was careful to take just enoughto provide balance to her growing posy. As she stood up, she saw a flashof movement in the corner of her eye. She hoped that it was Mary andsmiled. But it wasn’t, it was a girl who she knew to be the scullerymaid.
‘What you think you’re doing?’ the girlcalled at Edith.
‘Just gathering one or two flowers,’ Edithsaid, irked that she had been caught out doing what so many of the villagersdid.
‘That’s thieving, that is,’ the scullerymaid said.
‘Oh go away, you silly girl,’ Edith said,beginning to turn her back.
‘Expect you’re looking for your sister,aren’t you?’
Edith had no patience and decided toignore her. It would be much simpler to walk back up the path and waitfor Mary outside the gates. She began to walk away when the scullery maidstarted again.
‘You’ll probably find her with her fancyman. Her fiancé, I should say.’
Edith stopped in her tracks and turnedtowards her. ‘What are you talking about? Mary doesn’t have a fancyman. Go back to the scullery.’
‘She hasn’t told you!’ she said with amocking laugh. ‘Your own twin sister hasn’t told you that she’s engagedto your cousin, Edward! That’s funny.’
Edith felt her stomach fall. Itcouldn’t possibly be true. There was no way Mary and Edward were anitem. Engaged! The very idea was plainly absurd. Mary wouldnever humiliate her like that; she knew that Edith liked him. ‘Don’t talksuch rot. Will you please just go away and leave me alone?’
‘Ask her. She’s got a ring andeverything. He gave it to her. It was his grandmother’s. Yourgrandmother’s.’
Every part of Edith wanted to scream atthis awful, tittle-tattle-telling vixen, but she maintained her composure andsmiled, watching and waiting as she walked up the path and out of the estate.
It was true. She knew it. Hersister—her twin sister—had betrayed her and done the unthinkable. Edith’sblood ran cold, as feelings of betrayal were replaced with feelings ofanger. With her blood boiling, Edith ran to the old abbey ruins andsmashed the bouquet of flowers violently against one of the walls. Watching as a handful of blooms tumbled to the floor, Edith drew the bunch backand again smashed them into the wall. She kept on thrashing them back andforth, angry tears rushing down her cheeks, until she held nothing but a fewpathetic stalks.
She would make her twin sister pay. As she stood by the wall giving a view over to the path, Edith spotted thesandstone lintel and the initials etched onto it. That was the laststraw.
LadyRothborne nervously watched from her bedroom window. But for the usualabundance of wildlife attracted to the estate’s varied habitats, there waslittle stirring outside. She could see Mr Phillips and one of the locallads employed as a gardener working in the kitchen garden, but other than that,the gardens were still.
She looked directly below her window andwatched as Mary Mercer, audibly in great distress, was ushered out into thecourtyard by Mrs Cuff. A slight altercation with raised voices—but notclear enough for Lady Rothborne’s ears—took place before Mary marchedindignantly up the path towards home and Mrs Cuff headed back inside the house.
Almost not daring to breathe, LadyRothborne clutched her Bible and watched as a smile appeared on her wizenedface.
Chapter Thirteen
Mortonwas sitting in The Apothecary Coffee House on the corner of Rye’s East and HighStreet, gazing through the small rectangular window panes as an endless torrentof rain fell from the miserable skies. Given the current weather and hisposition on the Mercer Case, he had assigned today as a computer-basedresearch day and, rather than being cooped up in his attic study all day,Morton had
