Shadow of the Past Read Online Free PDF

with such a craven exemplar? No one expected a young lady in such an ambiguous situation, neither family nor servitor, to be full of social grace, but she should at least have a modicum of poise. And why had she left a trail of damp behind her? Had she been out in this rain? The candlelighthad been too weak to show if her hair or garments had been wet, but undoubtedly the corridor showed large muddy footprints.
    As an excuse for being seen in the domestic quarters, I made it my business to call in on Mrs Sandys, the housekeeper, in an attempt at social ease so far denied us. Why Lady Chase had kept in her establishment such a gloomy and pinch-faced woman defeated me. She had certainly provided her with a generous-sized sitting room, and a fire the villagers must have envied. Although there was a handsome bookcase, full of enticing volumes, Mrs Sandys was engaged in sewing, her needle stabbing away at the cloth in a way I always found disconcerting. Her ladyship could make sewing calming and peaceable; Mrs Sandys’ activities suggested barely suppressed violence.
    ‘I come to thank you for your continuing generosity to my parishioners,’ I said, though I knew all too well that the liberality was her mistress’s.
    She nodded curtly, still driving the needle through the innocent fabric.
    ‘And now I have to ask you another favour, Mrs Sandys,’ I continued. ‘That young governess of the Bramhalls looks very unhappy, and I fear she may not be eating properly. Tell me, is she as…well treated…as she deserves to be?’
    ‘Miss Southey?’ Mrs Sandys sniffed.
    ‘Indeed,’ I said firmly. At least I now knew the poor creature’s name. ‘Does Miss Southey have a fire in her room, for instance? And hot water in the morning? Dear Mrs Sandys, consider her position, amongst strangers, serving a family that does not, in my view, value her as it ought.’
    Mrs Sandys bit her lip at my rebuke. Hoping that such ahint would be effective in improving the poor young lady’s lot, I turned the conversation. I had spiritual care over the whole household, and would have the pleasure in preparing the younger ones for confirmation in the spring. Unfortunately, it was also sometimes my lot to remind a young man that he must marry his sweetheart before their baby was born.
    But tonight Mrs Sandys mentioned no miscreants and I soon left her to the doubtful pleasures of her needlework.
     
    The rain had ceased. Although there was no moon, the starlight reflecting on the puddles was enough to illumine my path home. Titus, irritated at quitting the temporary warmth and keen to return to his own cosy stable, indulged in unwontedly spirited napping. Once we had established who was in control, however, I let him pick his own way through the ruts.
    I told myself I wished to review the whole strange evening, from the huddle in the hall to the charitable concerns of my patroness, and indeed the poor self-effacing Miss Southey. In truth, I wanted only to think of the beauty of Lady Dorothea. But it was only a few short months since I had been in love with another female, and one very different from this. Poor Lizzie. I had never declared my passion for her and now it was too late. Would it be an insult to her memory to love another?
    Even as I thought of her, I fancied I heard her moan, as she might have done in her dying moments. Rebuking myself firmly, I nonetheless pulled Titus to a reluctant standstill, straining my ears for another sound. The copse in which I had found her dear body was scarce a mile away – on a night as still as this a sound might easily carry that far.
    There was nothing. Unless—
    I stood in the stirrups, peering into the ghostly darkness. I believe I actually called out loud, ‘Lizzie? Lizzie, is that you, my love?’
    The unmistakable sound of a cow lowing in a nearby byre replied.
    Shaking my head at my folly, I gave Titus his head and we wended our way home.
     
    ‘Could it be,’ I stammered at last, ‘that she has