Spider Light(124)
She huddled into the tiniest space she could, and was trying so hard to shut out the sounds she did not hear Daniel and Bryony open the door and cross the dusty attic floor to where she crouched.
She hardly felt the sting of the needle, but as the chloroform spun her down into oblivion, she was blessedly aware that the hammering from Twygrist’s bowels had finally ceased.
‘She’s gone far away from us,’ said Daniel Glass, seated in Charity Cottage with Bryony and her father. ‘I shall keep trying to reach her, but I think she might be beyond reach. She won’t talk about anything that happened–her father’s death, the astonishing switch she made with the strange bright-eyed little creature called Nell Kendal.’
‘Did she really think that would work?’ asked Cormac.
‘Oh yes. We’ve managed to get most of the story out of Nell–she can’t speak, but she’s an intelligent little thing, and she’s written most of it down. We’re going to see if we can find somewhere here for her to live, and some kind of work. There’s a sister in London, we’ve talked to her, but’–a grin curved his lips–‘the sister’s a different pair of shoes altogether. She’s set on coming up here to live with Nell, but I’m not sure if she will. She’s one of those tough defiant little creatures and wherever she ends up, she’ll survive.’
‘So Maud brought Nell Kendal to Amberwood deliberately?’
‘It seems like it. It seems she found the two sisters in London–God alone knows how or why–and tricked them into letting Nell come to Amberwood for some sort of medical treatment.’
‘And,’ said Bryony incredulously, ‘Maud thought she could put Nell Kendal into Latchkill in her place, and that people wouldn’t know?’
‘Yes. It might even have worked, you know; hardly anyone at Latchkill saw Maud. George Lincoln put her there under a false name, only Maud didn’t know that. She assumed Matron would quite openly send someone out to Toft House. The substitution would have been picked up eventually, of course, but Nell might have spent months there. And since Nell can’t speak…’
‘Could she have written down the truth?’
‘Yes, but you know as well as I do that asylums are full to the rafters with people who insist they’re sane.’
‘Yes, I see that. Everyone would have been fooled,’ said Bryony. ‘Except for—’
‘Except for Maud’s own father. That’s why he had to die–and Mrs Plumtree with him.’ He glanced at Bryony, and in a much gentler voice, said, ‘Maud is quite beyond sanity, you know. I’m assuming George Lincoln realized that, and that’s why he put her there. But I don’t suppose we’ll ever know the exact details.’
Cormac said, ‘I don’t suppose we will. Will she ever live outside an institution?’
‘I don’t think so. I’ll give her what treatment I can, but she really has gone very far away indeed. At times it’s as if she’s listening to something, and whatever it is that she’s hearing, it terrifies her. We saw that when we found her, didn’t we?’
‘She was pressed against the wall,’ said Bryony, trying not to shudder at the memory. ‘With her hands over her ears and her eyes tightly shut. Like a child.’
‘Yes. But there might be ways of helping her,’ said Daniel. ‘I’m hoping to try mesmerism–that’s quite a new idea for the mentally sick, but there’s a lot of interesting research being done into it. In any case, now that Prout’s leaving, Latchkill will be far better for the patients.’
‘I’m glad she’s leaving,’ said Bryony. ‘I’m glad you came to explain it all to us, as well.’ She glanced at her father, who promptly said, ‘Dr Glass, by way of gratitude for that, will you stay to supper? There’s a game pie, and more than enough for three.’
‘Game pie,’ said Daniel expressionlessly.
Cormac grinned, and said, ‘Bryony made it. The best ingredients went into it, but if you’re a gentleman, you won’t ask where the pheasants came from.’
‘I don’t care where they came from. I’d love to have supper with you.’
As they sat round the table, Bryony had the absurd feeling that something was happening between the three of them–something very good and very strong, and something that might remain in the atmosphere of Charity Cottage for a very long time. It was probably ridiculously fanciful to think that somewhere in the future, someone would sit here and feel this good strong emotion, but she did think it.
There was a wheel of Stilton and a dish of crisp ripe apples to follow the game pie, and then some of Cormac’s whiskey to round it off. It was not until the glasses had been filled a second time that Daniel said, ‘There’s something more that I have to tell you.’
‘Ha,’ said Cormac. ‘I thought there was.’
‘When they went through the things inside Toft House,’ said Daniel, ‘they found a will. George Lincoln made it very recently indeed, and it’s simply drawn up, but apparently perfectly legal.’ He was looking at Cormac very directly now. ‘It seems, Sullivan, that at some time in the past you did George Lincoln a–a service that he never forgot.’
‘A man helps another man where he can,’ said Cormac offhandedly.