Secret Reflection (30 page)

Her eyes rose from the journal in time to see the barmaid coming across the room with her coffee.

‘Would you be wantin’ any lunch? Cook goes off at three-thirty, so you’d need to order your food now if you’re hungry.’

Kelly shook her head. Her stomach was too knotted to eat. ‘I’m fine for the moment. Thanks.’

The girl nodded and wandered off, but Kelly didn’t notice, she had already turned the page.

October 16, 1861

My Elizabeth, my travel plans have been delayed but I expect to arrive at Stanthorpe within a day or two at most. It is unfortunate that I must to detour in London on my way north but I shall make all haste from there. With luck I shall dine with you tomorrow eve, my love
.

The goods from the shipment were all that was promised and I have set aside some exquisite fabric that I had brought especially for you, my darling. The rich gold colour will make your eyes glow in radiance. And the jewels! They will adorn your neck and ears, the blue stones are magnificent and I shall have my jeweller set them as befits your elegance and beauty. This venture has proved extremely profitable and my man in India is under instruction to ready another shipment forthwith
.

Soon I shall shower you with all the riches your beauty deserves, my love …

Sipping her coffee, Kelly pondered the man’s obsessive love for his wife. No one she knew would ever have bared his heart in such a way. His words were the stuff of poor poetry and medieval bards. Little wonder he’d gone mad when he learned that Elizabeth had died.

October 18, 1861

Oh, my heart, my love, my cherished one! It cannot be true. You cannot have left me! LORD! Say it is not true. Say Plunkett lies to me! I do not believe that my own cousin could let you die. Why did you not wait for me?

I am lost. My soul is lost
.

Plunkett says he watched my cousin bury you several days ago beside the rose garden. In my rage it was all I could do not to recover you with my bare hands, but Plunkett forestalled me
.

John is disappeared and I am bereft. Plunkett searches even now though he cannot fathom where my cousin has gone
.

October 19, 1861

Oh my darling one, my anger burns my heart to cinders. Plunkett found my cousin, sotted with drink, hiding in the buttery. He will say nothing except that he loved you
.

I must wait as he sleeps but I will learn the truth the moment he wakes, my love
.

Frowning, Kelly flipped the page forward, then back. 20th October was missing. She studied the binding inside the book but could see no evidence that a page had been removed. ‘I wonder why he didn’t write an entry for that day?’ she said to herself. Still, at the moment she had no answer, so she read on …

October 21, 1861

Tonight it shall be done. At midnight. He thought he would escape justice. Murderer! Foul murderer! All these years. I trusted him. My friend. My cousin. How could he have done it? I looked up to him. I cannot fathom it. The miserable bastard
.

My poor Elizabeth – he swore an oath to protect you, to keep you safe. I still cannot believe he could do such a thing as that. But the evidence – there is no other answer
.

Forgive me not being here to stop him, my sweet Elizabeth, but I will have vengeance for you. I promise, my darling one. His hell will be endless and I swear he will beg for death before I am done with him
.

October 22, 1861

It is done, my one and only love
.

When I confronted him, he admitted it. Admitted it – the murderer! I have no words to explain the desolation his betrayal has caused me, my darling Elizabeth. Such bastardry cannot be believed. I begged him to tell me why but he refused to speak, he just kept saying that he loved you, too. How much? I asked. How much had he loved you, my Elizabeth? Had he loved you in other ways?– I demanded directly. But still he refused to speak. It is the only answer … he wronged me! Did he rape you, my poor Elizabeth? Because that is all it could have been – I know you would never have submitted to him, betrayed our love, our
marriage. Oh, Elizabeth, why did you not fight him? When I told him that I planned to destroy him, he all but gave his blessing, the murderous fool. It was almost as if he wanted to die
.

Little did he suspect my plan for retribution
.

So, my darling Elizabeth, our vengeance has begun and his hell will indeed be without end
.

The sorcerer is a most clever man. Plunkett brought him at the crone’s bidding and if I had not seen it I would not have believed it possible. After your murderer signed all the papers Plunkett prepared, the sorcerer made his spell and burned a foul-smelling posy of herbs and flowers that he had anointed with my blood and your murderer’s hair. Then with secret words from the lore of the druids, he slowly pushed John backwards into the mirror. In all honesty, your murderer did nothing to prevent it and showed no emotion once his fate had been sealed. Thus John is trapped and none but I can see him. How I shall enjoy taunting him!

When the sorcerer returns tomorrow I shall learn all the secrets of your murderer’s prison. I wish you were beside me my love. My heart pains me that you are not but I have begun your vengeance and I will not end it until your murderer is destroyed
.

October 23, 1861

Oh my darling one, our vengeance is quite delicious! So befitting your murderer’s crimes! I shall make his torture slow and long
.

The sorcerer has told me of his spell. The rules are thus, my love:

Your murderer’s existence will ever be in the mirrors of this house. He shall never sleep, nor will he age and he will never know pleasure
.

As long as I live I shall see him, but no others will. His voice might be heard but it shall seem a mere shade and those who hear him will likely not comprehend his bleating words. Your murderer’s fate is thus sealed for all time
.

The sorcerer cautioned that the secret lore demands that there must be a way to break the spell, a chance for redemption. While I argued against this course, the sorcerer bespoke the consequences of fate, so needs must that I acquiesce. We have therefore agreed that upon each twenty-year anniversary of the joining of Jupiter and Saturn, your murderer has but the span from his inheritance until the moment of his incarceration, some eighteen days, to seek his release from the one person who occupies the master bedroom. But in order to succeed he must find a child of my blood to break the mirror, for only the blood from my line can release him
.

I inquired of your murderer’s fate should I, or one of my line, choose to release him. Alas, the sorcerer could not answer, as none he has so imprisoned has yet found freedom
.

Thus, my dearest love, I am content in our bargain. The sorcerer requested little for his part, a small house in which to live out his days. I have deeded your dowry cottage at
Canterbury to him – for this I beg your forgiveness but I shall not have need of it since I shall now own all of your murderer’s estates …

Deflated, Kelly lowered the journal and let out a long shuddering sigh. Richard. The answer was Richard. Weariness smothered her like a heavy shroud. While she now knew how to release John, she still had no idea if it would kill him – and if there was even a chance he’d die, she knew she could not bring herself to do it.

Burying her face in her hands the sense of utter futility threatened to overwhelm her. How could she possibly tell him? How would she be able to walk away in a few days’ time knowing she had abandoned him to such a heinous fate; to know he is there but no one can see him?

Oh, God
.

Just the idea of telling him made her want to curl up and hide. She took a sip of her now cold coffee and checked the time on the clock above the bar: 5:12 pm.

She didn’t think she had the strength to face him yet. Nor Richard, who she felt certain would come looking for her sooner or later, after all, he must have discovered the journal had gone missing long ago and it wouldn’t take any great leap of imagination to realise she must have taken it. One thing she did know was that if she wasn’t at Stanthorpe, then for the moment she ought to be safe from him. Perhaps she could even attempt to return the journal to its hiding place on the off chance he hadn’t noticed it missing? While she knew that idea was a long shot, still, it could be worth a try.

As for John, there were no words she could say that would soften the blow of what she’d discovered. Part of her felt numb with the shock of knowing there was nothing at all she could do to save him. The other part, the part that had fallen so deeply in love with him, felt as if her heart had been broken into tiny shards and scattered so wide that she would never be able to recover them. That part felt an aching coldness that seemed to want to swallow her.

She needed time to gather her strength.

Grabbing her handbag, she extracted her mobile phone and composed a text message for Nancy:
Having dinner in the village, home late - don’t wait up X
.

A few short moments later she received the response that she didn’t really want:
OK Call when ready Tom will come get you BTW Richard wants you to call him
.

Damn.

Well, she reasoned, if she went home late she would at least be able to put him off until tomorrow. Kelly snagged the barmaid as she walked by and asked what time they served dinner.

‘Cook just arrived back and should start serving up at about half past five if you want to wait,’ the girl said.

‘Sounds great. I’ll have a glass of white wine to tide me over until then.’

‘Sure,’ she said, taking a notepad from the pocket of her apron, ‘which wine would you like. We have chardonnnay, riesling or chablis?’

Kelly didn’t care what she drank. She just wanted courage. ‘Chardonnay will be fine.’

The girl nodded and wandered off while Kelly took the opportunity to visit the bathroom. There were few people about. The luncheon crowd had long since gone and she suspected the bar wouldn’t begin to fill again until well after dinner, which meant she could likely sit in peace and read the rest of the journal undisturbed for an hour or two.

Exiting the bathroom, she was just about to head back to her table when a familiar voice stopped her in her tracks. She backed up a step and held her breath.

Richard stood on the other side of the bar, speaking urgently to the barmaid. Perhaps Nancy had told him where she was? She almost kicked herself for not warning her.

Kelly listened intently. She couldn’t hear what he was saying, but she suspected he might well be asking after her. Creeping backward, she retraced her steps but instead of going to the bathroom, she made her way out the nearby back door.

The late afternoon sun still shone brightly, bouncing stark beams of light off the chrome and glass of the parked cars. Glancing back down the short hall, she saw no sign of movement. Yet. But she wouldn’t feel safe until she knew Richard was long gone.

Taking a punt, she dashed around the side of the pub and up the short lane. Richard’s four-wheeled drive sat parked across the street. Sliding her hand over her carry-all to assure herself that the book was still there, she slipped behind the hedge that bordered the cottage next door, found a tiny gap that gave her a view of Richard’s car, and waited.

Richard didn’t disappoint her – a few minutes later he emerged from the pub scanning the street, both left and right, before climbing back into the car and peeling off the kerb with a screech of wheels. Only when she was certain he was out of sight did she stand upright and stretch her aching legs.

Logic told her that he’d be unlikely to return, so she went back inside to have that dinner she’d ordered.

‘Oh there ye are! The viscount was just in ’ere a’looking for ye,’ the barmaid said. ‘Would ye be wantin’ me to give him a call?’

‘No, thanks,’ Kelly answered quickly then brandished her mobile phone. ‘I’ll call him myself.’

The girl nodded with a knowing smile. ‘I’ll just go back and tell cook not to toss out yer dinner.’

‘Great. Thanks.’

For good measure, Kelly thought it prudent to sit at the back, near her escape route and opposite the window that gave her a view of the street – just to be certain.

The dinner came and went untouched as she reread the journal – she hadn’t been hungry, she’d simply needed an excuse to sit there taking up space while she read.

By nine she could barely force herself to read on and finish it. With each successive entry, Edward Ditchley became more and more depraved in his actions. The brutality and sexual violence made Kelly sick to her stomach. The things he did to poor Anne! To say nothing of the mental abuse John’s mother must have suffered. He also raped or beat his
servants mercilessly. The delight he seemed to derive from their pain was chilling, and time and again Kelly had to stop reading as the bile rose up her throat.

Unlike a novel, this was more real, and far more devastating because it was a diary – in effect, the true account of the man’s descent into madness. She didn’t know how John could have witnessed such depravity, withstood that kind of mental anguish and remained sane.

The last few entries in the journal became disjointed babblings that she could barely make sense of. One thing was certain though, his treatment of Anne became progressively worse and Kelly almost hoped that Anne
had
killed him, that she had finally taken matters into her own hands.

A noise over by the bar caught Kelly’s attention and as she looked around the cosy pub, she was surprised to find all the tables were now full and a large contingent in rugby jerseys stood by the bar laughing and toasting each other. Obviously they had won their game. She’d been so engrossed in the journal she’d barely noticed anything or anyone around her. Richard could have come along and she wouldn’t have realised until too late. But then again, it didn’t matter now. She had read it. She had her answers. Richard couldn’t really do anything to her now.