Chapter 6

Touch her not scornfully;

Think of her mournfully,

Gently and humanly;

Not of the stains of her,

 

The exterior of the house, illuminated both inside and out, seemed to mirror Ainsley's mood. Damp. Near Frozen. It was an impressively large home with three stories and a labyrinth of balconies and landings. It must have been recently built, using a cornucopia of styles borrowed from architects of old. The mist that hung thick in the air made the limestone exterior appear to be sand, collapsible at any moment should anyone dare to touch it.

As Ainsley stepped from the carriage he noted the death wreath on the door, no doubt hastily created from laurel which must grow abundant somewhere on the vast property. The door stood slightly ajar, a gesture for mourners to come in, without ringing the bell. The noise would disturb the somber peace of the place, and perhaps would remind the dead that the living remained active while they had met their end.

Ainsley followed Bennett who showed the way into the house. A housemaid met them in the foyer and took their coats. Bennett turned to the drawing room where the young Josephine was laid out. Ainsley made a quick nod of thanks to the maid before remembering his flask. The maid turned away just as he called out. “Oh sorry, just a moment.” He risked penetrating the calm quiet of the house but he was desperate. He reached into the inner pocket of his coat and pulled out a small silver flask. He would need that before long.

With the maid gone and his flask safely placed in the inner pocket at his breast, Ainsley stood at the threshold to the parlour. There were others there that night, lending support to the family and assisting in keeping watch over the body during the wake. He could see the small white casket held off the ground by two sturdy chairs strategically placed at the head and foot. Flowers were arranged in abundance around the corpse, staving off the distinctive smell of death he knew would be surrounding the body so long after her passing. From his position at the door, he could see no parts of the body save the tiny hands that were folded together on the girl's chest. He glanced around the room, wondering which of the ladies gathered there was Mrs. Lloyd.

Dr. Bennett led the way towards two women who were seated to one side of the room. The younger woman, with golden blond hair and a slender physique not entirely hidden beneath a modest black frock and gloves, held the hand of another woman who was seated beside her weeping. The crying woman appeared to be slightly older though the two of them looked so alike they could be sisters. Neither of the women spoke. They simply sat side by side, their gazes transfixed on nothing in particular, both looking in opposite directions.

“Mrs. Lloyd,” Dr. Bennett began softly.

The older woman raised her gaze and then stood, recognizing the doctor. “Dr. Bennett, so good of you to attend.”

Dr. Bennett grasped Mrs. Lloyd's hands in his own. “Allow me to introduce, Dr. Ainsley. He's come all the way from London to assist me.”

Mrs. Lloyd turned to Ainsley then, revealing a sullen face with stone cold features and a hardness he had never seen in a woman of her station. “Dr. Ainsley.” She nodded in greeting and extended her hand.

Ainsley took her hand gently. “Mrs. Lloyd, I am deeply sorry for your loss.” She nodded.

The younger woman spoke then. “Mother, you should sit. Your health.” She led her mother back to her seat, as if the woman was a hundred and could not seat herself.

“Elizabeth Lloyd,” Dr. Bennett said to Ainsley very quietly. “The eldest girl.”

Ainsley nodded as he watched Elizabeth escort her mother back to her seat. No wonder she was still unmarried. She bore the same sullen and bitter face as her mother but looked even more disagreeable given her younger age. “Charming,” Ainsley said in a whisper.

It was then that Ainsley noticed a mirror in the hall was draped with black fabric, and the family portraits were over turned and lying faces down. It had become tradition to cover mirrors so that the spirit of the deceased could not find themselves trapped in them. Family portraits were covered or overturned to guard any others in the family from being called to the spirit world by the ghost of the person who had passed. These observances were simply superstition he thought, devices to appease their obsession with the dead. The flowers that surrounded the body on the other hand were a practical addition. They masked the smell of decay.

The young doctor also noticed a sizable grand piano situated near a generous bay window which would overlook the front lawns. Sheet music was folded neatly in leather folders, though the corners stuck out, revealing their identity. Books lined a nearby shelf, and a sizable framed portrait was draped in thick black cloth. A tiny pair of gloves were folded on top of the piano and a single lily was placed on top. A gesture, he thought, to say goodbye.

“Dr. Ainsley,” Bennett approached with a young, smartly dressed man who had just crossed the room and was walking toward them, “Allow me to introduce you to Walter Lloyd Jr., the eldest of the Lloyd children. Mr. Lloyd, this is the young doctor who has come to assist me.”

Ainsley shook the man's hand when it was offered and gave a forced smile. “I wish our meeting was under more amiable circumstances” he managed to say.

Walter looked solemn but his manner was all business. “Thank you,” he answered. “I hardly see the point in bringing a doctor all the way from London for my sisters.”

Remembering Dr. Bennett's concerns, Ainsley was careful not to give away the true reason for his attendance. “Merely a formality,” Ainsley answered. “The university has an interest in studying all cases of sudden illnesses resulting in death. I would also like the opportunity to assist your other sister, who remains ill. If there is a way to help, I would like to do that.” He gave a quick glance to Bennett who nodded his approval.

The young head of the household gave a slight laugh. “Lillian is as stubborn as a mule and refuses tonics that will do her well. If she dies, it certainly is not for lack of trying to save her.”

Walter was cold for saying such things though his demeanour reminded Ainsley of his own brother, Daniel, who also at times made similar disparaging comments. Perhaps it is the way with businessmen. “Well,” Ainsley began, “I shall see what I can do.”

“Indeed.” Walter nodded, as if he agreed but Ainsley could tell his mind was elsewhere.

“She will not stick to her room you know,” Walter offered. “She is constantly venturing down, so Mother tells me. She has threatened to put a lock on her door if Lillian does not stay in her bed. ” Walter shifted his gaze around the room. “Mother is expecting a throng tomorrow afternoon. She spares no expense and funerals are no exception, I assure you. You are both welcome anytime. Now if you'll excuse me, I have business matters to attend.” Walter slid past the two doctors and retreated to the hall and a room further beyond.

Bennett leaned into Ainsley, pulling him closer to the hallway, and spoke in a hushed tone so no one else could hear. “The Lloyd's own two woolen mills, one here in Picklow and the other further north. Since inheriting the business Walter has been seeing to both and spends very little time at the home.”

Ainsley nodded, grateful for the information. Ainsley's gaze returned to the room and he saw Elizabeth looking at him. He nodded but she did nothing and turned away sharply.

From all accounts the family appeared normal enough though there was something more that Ainsley could not put his finger on. The way they looked at him, as an outsider, unnerved him. Their eyes bore a chill that matched the weather outside. He turned to Bennett. “Have you known the family long?” he asked.

“Yes, I attended all of the births… except Miss Josephine but by then there was a midwife in the area to assist Mrs. Lloyd.” Bennett rocked back and forth on his feet, smiling slightly. He was obviously proud of his loyal service to the family.

Ainsley knew the doctor spoke of Miss Dawson, whom the labourer at the train station had referred.

“All Lloyd children were strong, you say. Any infant deaths?” Ainsley asked.

“No. Though...” the doctor hesitated. “Martha has had a string of miscarriages which resulted in large age gaps between the children. Those who made it to birth were of the healthiest constitution.”

Ainsley spotted a tall woman entering the parlour slowly but deliberately. She passed both doctors and approached the casket, obscuring the body from view. A black mourning veil hid her face. Ainsley saw Mrs. Lloyd lift her gaze as she realized who was standing before the body of her daughter. The veiled woman’s attention was focused on the casket before her until the grieving mother jumped from her seat and bounded for the woman in a rage. “You keep your hands away from my daughter, you witch!” Mrs. Lloyd cried as she grabbed for the woman.

Defensively the woman raised her arm, as Mrs. Lloyd reached to strike her.

“Mrs. Lloyd!” Bennett and Ainsley rushed towards the pair. The veiled woman was able to shake Mrs. Lloyd from her body and stepped back quickly as Mrs. Lloyd lunged for her again. The veil was pulled from the woman's face and her hat fell to the floor. Bennett struggled to hold Mrs. Lloyd back while Ainsley used his body to protect the guest.

“You keep her away Doctor!” Mrs. Lloyd called over his shoulder.

“Martha, please! Calm yourself. She is paying her respects.” Dr. Bennett said sedately. Elizabeth appeared at mother’s side and rubbed her back as the doctor tried to calm her down. The female mourner who had caused the stir turned back to the casket. Ainsley saw her pull a coin from her pocket, kissing it before placing it in the hands of the corpse.

“Don't let her do her magic on my child. You tell her to keep away!” Mrs. Lloyd struggled to be free of Bennett's arms. “She did it, Dr. Bennett! She killed my baby!” Martha screamed and charged again. She broke free from Bennett's grasp and struck the woman from behind.

Ainsley tried to stop her but he was too late. The woman stumbled and fell backwards into the casket, knocking it to the floor, the body falling halfway out from the impact. The entire room of mourners gasped then quickly fell into a stunned silence. Ainsley glanced around and saw a small child huddled, terrified, beneath the piano. He did not know or recognize her but he knew she had seen the entire exchange and his heart fell at the thought.

“That will be all, Mrs. Lloyd,” Ainsley bellowed, raising a pointed finger. “Calm yourself!” He turned, kneeling at the woman's side and lifted her to her feet. He grabbed her hat from the floor and presented it to her. “Are you harmed?” he asked.

The woman shook her head and accepted her hat. She did not meet his eyes, though he could tell she had been crying for some time prior to arriving. Her face was red and ruddy.

“You don't understand, Dr. Ainsley,” Elizabeth protested, as she pulled her crying mother from the scene, caressing her as she would a child. “That woman has been a curse to us.”

“I am sure she has been no such thing,” Ainsley yelled. “If you cannot allow this woman her right to--”

“She is a witch!” Mrs. Lloyd yelled.

Ainsley's face hardened instantly. “Madam! Remove yourself from this room or I will have you removed.”

“You cannot demand me to leave. This is my own house!” Mrs. Lloyd yelled from her daughter's arms.

“No, it's my house.” Everyone turned their attention to the door and saw Walter, a glass of whiskey in his hand. “I came to see what the trouble was. Mother, I think it is best if you retire for the evening.”

“Walter!”

“Mother.”

Mrs. Lloyd lowered her gaze, while Elizabeth escorted her from the room, neither one attempting to look at Walter as they passed. Once they were gone, other mourners began to gather and leave. Soon, Ainsley, Bennett, Walter and the strange woman were the only ones left with the overturned corpse. The little girl remained huddled beneath the piano looking at them all.

Bennett motioned toward the corpse, and Ainsley nodded. The two doctors, Bennett at the feet, Ainsley at the head, rolled the girl's body on to its back and lifted it back into the righted coffin.

Having handled cadavers often enough, the body was no difficulty for Ainsley, save a conscious effort to remain respectful. The skin, Ainsley noticed, had been treated with fragrant oils and powders to mask the smell of decay, a condition which made the mass slippery in his hands. The dead weight was heavy and unwieldy which required both men to shift their own weight in response to the unpredictable movement of the corpse.

“My apologies, Miss Dawson,” Walter said calmly, once Josephine's body was restored. Ainsley looked to the woman standing quietly next to him, the realization dawning that she was the midwife of which the villagers had spoken.

“No need to apologize, Mr. Lloyd,” she said in a subdued voice.

“My mother is... overwrought.” Walter glanced to the two doctors and nodded in thanks. “You are more than welcome to attend in the morning. If there is anything else you require please send word.”

“Thank you, Walter. You are very kind.”

“I will escort you to the door.”

Ainsley watched the small girl slip from under the piano and follow behind Miss Dawson, who left the room without so much as a backwards glance. He looked down to the corpse, readjusted her slightly opened eyelids to give the impression she was sleeping and folded her arms gently on her chest.