Adele was so horrified, so sickened, so angered by this malicious act, her whole body began to shake and for a moment her throat was constricted. Long ago Adele had admitted to herself she was actually afraid of Gerald. He was a bully. But now her terrible rage and her concern for Edwin enabled her to overcome this inherent and often paralysing fear.
The courtyard was suddenly deathly quiet. Gerald was actually grinning. Edwin was wiping his tear-stained cheeks with the back of his hand. Adele seized the moment. She leaned out of the window and cried in an uncommonly harsh tone, ‘What is the meaning of this commotion, Gerald? What is this dreadful altercation all about? You are behaving in the most deplorable manner, which I will not tolerate.’
Gerald looked up and blinked, taken aback at his mother’s unanticipated appearance at the window, and also by the firmness of her tone. Gerald had always despised his mother, even as a little boy. He thought her foolish and vain, and he sniggered at her behind her back.
Now he moved restlessly in the saddle and cleared his throat. ‘It’s nothing of any importance, Mother. Your precious darling is perfectly capable of taking care of himself, even though it is a big baby, thanks to your pampering,’ he said with rude disdain. ‘Go back to bed, Mother. We don’t want you interfering with us, or as an arbitrator, for that matter.’
‘How dare you speak to me with such insolence,’ exclaimed Adele with enormous coldness, shocked at Gerald’s audacity. ‘I want, no demand, an explanation about this matter or you will answer to your father. Come to the library at once. And remove your filthy riding boots before doing so!’
Gerald was so flabbergasted at this extraordinary reversal in his mother’s mien, which was normally meek and abstracted, he gaped at her openmouthed, his usual scornful retorts unuttered. Edwin was not at all surprised, but he was afraid for his mother, and a worried look flashed across his sensitive face.
‘But there’s nothi—’ Gerald began.
‘At once, I said!’ Adele snapped, and closed the window in his face with a loud bang, a grim expression ringing her mouth. Then she began to tremble, almost convulsively, although this was more from anger than any other emotion. She clutched the green silk draperies to steady herself.
Emma moved closer to her and took her arm. ‘Oh, Mrs Fairley, don’t upset yerself so. Please. Remember the dinner. Yer must keep yerself calm for tonight. Pay no mind ter Master Gerald, Mrs Fairley. Yer knows what boys are like, always bickering and squabbling amongst ’emselves.’
Indeed I do know what boys are like, especially that horrid little monster, Adele thought, but said, rather shakily, ‘Yes, Emma, you are right to some extent. But occasionally children must be chastised when they have misbehaved, and taught the difference between right and wrong. Now, where is my dressing gown?’
‘It’s here, ma’am,’ said Emma, picking up the purple velvet robe faced and trimmed with pink satin that matched the nightgown, which was lying across the chair in front of the dressing table. ‘And here are yer slippers,’ she went on, reaching for the purple velvet mules decorated with pink osprey feathers. She took them to Adele.
‘Thank you. Where is the Squire?’ asked Adele as she struggled hurriedly into her dressing gown and slipped her feet into the mules.
‘He went ter Leeds, Mrs Fairley. And I knows he won’t be back till six. I heard him telling Murgatroyd that,’ said Emma.
‘I see. Where is Mrs Wainright? Perhaps you can find her, Emma, and ask her to join me in the library,’ said Adele.
‘She’s not here either, ma’am. She went to the village ter see the Reverend Martin about summat to do with the church,’ Emma explained, wondering how Mrs Fairley would cope with Gerald alone. He could be a real devil when he wanted, and mean. She knew that only too well.
Adele sighed heavily and looked at Emma, but made no comment, her silvery eyes thoughtful. Resolutely she pushed aside the panic that was beginning to take hold of her. For once in her life it seemed she would have to deal with an unpleasant situation on her own. She had resolved earlier to assert herself in the household, and now the opportunity had apparently presented itself. However difficult it might prove to be, she must handle it at all costs. That despicable little fiend is not going to get away with this as easily as he imagined, she decided. She took several deep breaths and then looked at herself in the ornate Venetian mirror on the dressing table. She wound her hair into a chignon and secured it with several tortoiseshell combs. Satisfied with her appearance, she threw her shoulders back and moved across the room with sureness, coldly imperious in her bearing.
But she faltered at the door and looked back at the speechless Emma, who was astonished at this quite phenomenal show of strength.
‘Perhaps you had better accompany me to the library, Emma,’ said Adele softly. Though her heart was beating with great rapidity and she felt physically weak, her steely determination to confront Gerald was intact. Nevertheless, she believed Emma’s reassuring presence would bolster her courage even more.
‘Yes, Mrs Fairley, ma’am, course I’ll come with yer,’ said Emma, vastly relieved that she had been asked. If there was trouble she could always run for Murgatroyd. He might be a tyrant downstairs in the kitchen, but he was devoted to Mrs Fairley.
Together they made their way down the long and dusky corridor and slowly descended the first flight of the grand staircase richly carpeted in red. Adele held on to the polished oak banister to steady herself and Emma supported her other arm under the elbow. When they reached the central landing, where the two upper left and right flights converged to join the main staircase, Adele paused to catch her breath, clinging tightly to the intricately carved newel post.
An immense stained-glass window floated high above this landing and the staircase, and it blazed with brilliant jewel colours and threw off rafts of awesome fiery light that washed over the white walls and spilled into the cavernous hall below. Emma glanced down and she shivered unexpectedly. The deserted hall looked gruesome, even frightening, in the unearthly bluish-red radiance that made crouching beasties and grotesqueries of the dark wood furniture and the huge potted palms. Once again terror trickled through her veins and she wanted, as always, to flee from this oppressive house full of secrets and concealed violence.
Don’t be daft, she told herself firmly, but she held on to Mrs Fairley’s arm more tightly, as much to quell her own fears as give support to Adele.
When they finally reached the hall, Adele looked around swiftly and then she also shivered and drew her robe about her. It seemed she echoed Emma’s own sentiments when she said, ‘It’s awfully gloomy and unwelcoming in here, Emma. Please turn up the gaslights.’
Emma did as she was bid and hastened after Adele, who was already sweeping grandly into the library, her back stiff, her head lifted proudly on her tense shoulders, her face as unmoving as white onyx. Murgatroyd was busy polishing the crystal glasses on the black-walnut chest, in readiness for the evening, when Adele entered with Emma close on her heels. He straightened up quickly and looked in some amazement at Mrs Fairley, who rarely appeared downstairs during the day, if at all.
‘Why, madame, how nice ter see yer looking so well. Can I get yer owt, Mrs Fairley?’ he asked deferentially.
‘No, thank you, Murgatroyd,’ Adele said, trying to smile.
‘There’s nowt wrong, is there, Mrs Fairley?’ he asked, peering at her closely.
Adele, walking across the floor with Emma in her wake, said quickly, ‘No, no, of course not, Murgatroyd. I wish to speak to the children about a certain matter, that’s all. But thank you for your concern.’
‘Not at all, madame,’ said Murgatroyd. His curiosity aroused, the butler hovered solicitously around Adele, who declined the chair he proffered and stood