Chapter 18

Cecilia carefully opened the door to her room. She hadn’t noted earlier if they creaked or not when she opened the heavy oak door; she was pleased to discover it opened quietly. Compliments to the staff for keeping doors in good working order, she thought as she stepped out of her room and closed the door behind her. The hall was full of heavy shadows with little light extending from the small, oil night lamps hung on the wall. Two figures separated themselves from the wall across from her room—Julia and Mrs. Vance.

Mrs. Vance swished when she walked. Cecilia frowned.

“Mrs. Vance is that your dress or your petticoat making that sound?” she whispered.

Mrs. Vance pressed her fingertips against her cheeks. “Oh, I’m sorry. I’m so used to it. It is the petticoats.”

Cecilia shook her head. “You can’t come making that sound,” she hissed.

Mrs. Vance nodded quickly. Cecilia thought she would go back to her room. Instead, Mrs. Vance reached under her skirts to release the ties of the offending garment. It pooled around her feet on the floor. She quickly stepped out of it, gathered it up, looked around, then opened an ornately carved and painted door of a sideboard in the hall and shoved the petticoat inside. She swung her hips side to side to demonstrate she no longer made a sound. Cecilia compressed her lips against a laugh.

Cecilia turned toward the main staircase to go downstairs. Julia caught her arm and pointed to the back end of the hallway.

“Servants’ stairs,” her voice only a breath of air.

Cecilia nodded and followed Julia and Mrs. Vance as they walked quietly to the servants’ stairs. She hadn’t noticed Julia carried a candlestick until the woman stopped to light a candle from one of the oil lamps before she opened the door. The stairwell was Stygian black. Julia held the candle holder high as the three carefully descended the steep staircase.

At the bottom, they listened for any sounds beyond the door before they opened it. This door squeaked a little. Cecilia grimaced. Cecilia held the door only as far as was needed for the other two women to enter the hall of the ground floor. There were lit oil lamps in this hall as there had been on their floor, but they were fewer, the hall even dimmer. Julia kept her candle as she led them to the right. Cecilia knew, from what Julia and Mrs. Vance had told her earlier, that the rooms they passed were two treatment rooms, the estate office, a trunk room, and Mr. Montgomery’s room at the very end.

As they approached his room, they were surprised to find Liddy with Mrs. Worcham. Mrs. Worcham held up a finger to her lips to warn them to silence, then placed her hand behind her ear to signal them to listen.

Liddy, her hands covering her mouth, was trying not to laugh.

Cecilia, Julia, and Mrs. Vance crept closer. There were noises coming from Mr. Montgomery’s room. Whispers and moans punctuated with a female cry of “Oh, Yes! Yes! More!”

The three women turned back to Mrs. Worcham and Liddy. “Who?” Cecilia asked on a faint hiss of breath.

Mrs. Worcham motioned them to follow her. She led them toward the center of the mansion to the main hall and the grand staircase.

“That is Miss Dorn, isn’t it,” said Mrs. Vance when they stopped.

Mrs. Worcham nodded, her brows drawn together and her lips in a tight line.

“And Mr. Turnbull-Minchin!” piped in Liddy before she could say anything.

“Shh,” the women warned Liddy.

Liddy scrunched her shoulders up toward her ears and mouthed, “Sorry!”

“What are you doing here, Liddy?” Cecilia whispered.

“I followed Miss Dorn when she snuck out of our room,” she said.

Cecilia shook her head. “We’ll take Liddy up with us,” Cecilia whispered to Mrs. Worcham. She turned to Mrs. Vance. “I think there is an empty room next to you?”

Mrs. Vance nodded. “She can stay there tonight. We’ll think of some reason for her being there later.”

Mrs. Worcham nodded absently. Cecilia could tell her mind was on the couple in Mr. Montgomery’s room. “What are you going to do?” she quietly asked Mrs. Worcham.

“Wake Thaddeus,” the woman said, a determined light in her eyes. She left to return to her and Dr. Worcham’s quarters.

“We’re going to miss the fun,” Mrs. Vance complained, as they climbed the stairs.

“Not entirely,” Julia said. She gestured to the top of the stairway that branched to their wing.

Arms akimbo, there stood Matron Mildred in a worn blue robe and a voluminous night cap.

“Follow my lead,” Cecilia whispered as the women and Liddy continued up the stairs. She took an ever-ready handkerchief from her dress’s hidden pocket and dabbed at her eyes.

“I miss my husband,” Cecilia wailed. “Why can’t I go see him?”

“It’s the middle of the night, dear,” Julia said, picking up on Cecilia’s ploy.

“I know, but I’m not coughing like I did. I want my husband!” she wailed again. She turned toward Liddy. She winked at the child and hoped she would understand what she said next. “You’re a traitor, Liddy, for telling on me.”

“Me!” protested Liddy.

Julia put her arm around the child. “You did nothing wrong, Liddy. She’s just upset,” Julia said. “I think there is a room open next to Mrs. Vance. Would you like to stay with us on our floor tonight?”

“But, I—” Liddy began.

Mrs. Vance got on her other side and turned her away from Matron. “Hush Liddy. This is make-believe,” she whispered. “You don’t need to say anything.”

Liddy’s eyes grew wide. “Ohh!”

“I’ll take you to that room,” Mrs. Vance said. “It’s a very nice room. And you would have it all to yourself, not like in the dormitory you sleep in now.”

Liddy nodded and went upstairs holding Mrs. Vance’s hand while Julia helped a weeping Cecilia slowly climb the stairs.

“What is going on?” demanded Matron. She squinted at Cecilia as she and Julia came up the last few steps.

A door suddenly slammed. They heard people running and Dr. Worcham shouting.

Miss Dorn came screeching down the hall in her nightgown. She ran up the staircase toward them, saw them at the top of the stairs and turned to run the other way. Cecilia dropped her plaintive pose and hurried after her. “Miss Dorn!” she called out.

Julia followed after her. Liddy pulled free of Mrs. Vance’s hand to stand by the banister and look down into the hall below.

Cecilia grabbed Miss Dorn’s arm, pulling her about, causing Miss Dorn to stumble and fall. Liddy cheered, clapped, and jumped up and down with Mrs. Vance smiling and clapping behind her. “Well done!” she crowed. Miss Dorn fought Cecilia, until Julia joined in, holding her. Miss Dorn collapsed and started crying.

“My word,” uttered Matron. She started down the stairs.

Dr. Worcham ran into the main hall from where Cecilia and the others had been earlier. His hair stood in wild disarray, his banyan hung off one shoulder, the sleeve ripped. Mrs. Worcham ran after him.

“Thaddeus! You were wonderful!” his wife cried, her eyes shining through tears.

He ignored her as he went to recover Miss Dorn from Julia and Cecilia.

Julia and Cecilia let go of her and made a show of brushing off their dresses in attitudes of feigned nonchalance. But when they looked at each other, they couldn’t help but giggle.

“Miss Dorn? What were you about?” asked Dr. Worcham gently.

Miss Dorn’s crying had turned to hiccups. “I just want a ba-baby,” the poor woman said.

He sighed.

Suddenly, Cecilia felt like the lowest fiend for capturing her. Miss Dorn was not well. Her obsession drove her into the arms of any man who would service her.

Matron now came rapidly down the stairs. “I’ll take her to the kitchen to have some warm milk, and I’ll watch after her,” she said.

“Thank you, Matron,” Dr. Worcham said. “I need to deal with the miscreant who thought to take advantage of a patient. I’ll join you when I finish with him!”

He then turned to look between Julia, Cecilia, Mrs. Vance, and his wife. “I understand you all thought to search Mr. Montgomery’s room. I’ll do better than that. I’ll let you all clean it in the morning. For now, return to your rooms. I need to deal with Mr. Turnbull-Minchin.”

“You captured him? He didn’t get away?” said Cecilia.

“How far and fast can a man with pants around his ankles run?” Dr. Worcham said sarcastically. “He’s locked in a treatment room. Those are the only room for which he doesn’t have keys.”

“What are you going to do with him?” Julia ventured to ask.

“I don’t know,” he said heavily.

Cecilia cameout of her room in the morning to find Liddy humming to herself and dancing. She still wore her nightgown as her day clothes were in her dormitory living space. Her dark hair was in a wild, tangled disarray. The child appeared so cheerful that Cecilia had to smile.

“Did you sleep well, Liddy?” Cecilia asked.

“Yes. The bed was soft like my bed back home,” she said, skipping over to Cecilia. She grabbed Cecilia’s hand and started to swing it.

“Tell me about your home,” Cecilia prompted.

“I had a pony. I called her Bluebell. I like bluebells.”

“So do I.”

“Papa took me with him sometimes when he visited the home farm and tenant farms, and I did not have to wear that awful cream on my face Mama made me wear in company. Yuck.”

Cecilia blinked. A home farm, tenant farms, and a child with a pony was not the description of a poor family. Why was she in the dormitory?

Mrs. Vance’s door opened, and Liddy ran to see her before she could raise another question.

“Good morning, precious girl,” Mrs. Vance enthused. “I see we need to get you some clothes. You are more lacking in proper attire than I am. I need to get my petticoat.”

She opened the ornate cupboard where she’d shoved her petticoat the night before. As she pulled the garment out, a large leather ledger fell on the floor. “What’s this?” she said as she picked it up.

“That’s Mr. Montgomery’s,” Liddy said. “He told me to hide it.”

Cecilia came forward, taking the book from Mrs. Vance. “When did he tell you that?”

“That night.”

“That night? The night he died?” Cecilia asked.

Tears welled up in Liddy’s eyes. “I don’t think of it,” she said, turning away and running across the hall to the windows on the other side of the hall.

Mrs. Vance and Cecilia exchanged startled looks, then Mrs. Vance went to console Liddy as Julia came out of her room.

“What’s going on?” she asked.

“I don’t know,” Cecilia said. “Mr. Montgomery asked Liddy to hide this ledger and she hid it in this cupboard.” She touched the cupboard behind her.

“When was this?”

“Judging by Liddy’s reaction by recalling the event, it was the night he died. I’m going to hide this in my room for now. We’ll need to examine it after breakfast.”

Julia nodded.

When Cecilia came back into the hall, she saw Julia had joined Mrs. Vance and Liddy by the window. “Shall we go to the dormitory to find something for Liddy to wear?” she asked.

“I think that is a good idea,” said Mrs. Vance. “Come Liddy, dry your eyes now. It is a new day, and you are going to spend it with me. We can read stories, go outside, and do anything you want to do today. How would you like that?”

She nodded, but without her typical exuberance. Cecilia felt her heart cry for the child.

There were four women’s dormitory rooms, each with four beds. Liddy led them to her room. She stopped outside the door. “Shh,” she whispered. “Mrs. Johnson is always sleeping. I have to be quiet.”

She carefully opened the door and walked past the first bed where an old, frail-looking woman snored gently. At the second bed, she carefully pulled a large, flattish trunk out from under her cot. Mrs. Vance helped her change out of her nightgown into one of the three dresses in the trunk while Julia made her bed. Cecilia looked around the room with curiosity. One other bed was neatly made, the fourth had clothes stuffed under the covers to resemble a person sleeping there. In the dark, it probably did and only in the light of day could the sham be clearly seen. Miss Dorn’s bed, she assumed.

Mrs. Vance tidied Liddy’s hair with a brush and a hair ribbon from the trunk. In her clean clothes and with her dark brown hair in a braid down her back, Liddy resumed her cheerful demeanor. They followed her back out of the room and headed for breakfast in the old chapel.

Though Cecilia wanted to question Liddy more, she hesitated, loath to cause the child any additional grief. Perhaps the ledger would provide answers.