CHAPTER 8

For the next week Bella walked around in a trance with a huge smile on her face, so overwhelmingly happy with life and everyone in it, that she barely even noticed Emmett's teasing.

Memories of her night with Edward constantly swirled around her head and broke into her thoughts, catching her unawares, so that in the middle of a conversation, or a meal, or one of her mundane daily tasks around the house, she suddenly found herself grinning at the memory of a glance, or a word, or a touch, or shivering with remembered pleasure, which shocked her with its intensity, distracting her from her work and causing her to daydream half her days away.

But all too soon the euphoria began to fade and she just desperately wanted Edward back. Mrs Cope noticed she was pale and barely eating and began trying to feed her up, but how could Bella explain about the knots in her stomach and the nights spent tossing and turning in frustration, all hope of sleep driven away by the memory of his smiles and caresses.

But Edward had been honest about not having the time or inclination to get involved in a serious relationship at the moment, or being able to come down to Cornwall again until after Christmas, which was a whole three months away. So somehow she had to be patient, because making demands on him now could risk driving him away completely, which was the last thing she wanted to do.

So although she couldn't regret what had happened, she hid the depth of her feelings, which had scared her a little, and decided not to let things stray too far from the friendly territory they'd already established. And despite just wanting to email over and over again 'I miss you, I want you, please come back.' she managed not to inundate him with texts and emails, or keep phoning him, however much she longed to hear his voice.

When Edward asked if anything was wrong she passed off his concerns with a joke and made him promise not to be so ungallant as to refer to their night together, because that would have been too much to bear. And overall she was pleased at how successfully she'd handled the situation and avoided making a complete fool of herself in his eyes.

At one point she'd thought that if things got too difficult she'd surprise Edward with a visit of her own, but she quickly realised that seeing him would only make the waiting worse and in any case as the weather turned colder, not only did Jim become ill again, but Carlisle's health also took a slight downward turn, so gallivanting off to London seemed out of the question for a while and eventually Bella dropped the idea completely.

-ooo-

One thing she could do to keep herself busy, was to redouble her search for evidence about Lady Mary. She'd started by thinking she'd easily track down the information she needed to prove that Perceval hadn't locked Lady Mary up, driven her mad and stolen her money. But it had soon become clear that she might have to return to her second choice of subject, the smugglers, due to a serious lack of evidence.

She needed to have all her information ready before the end of term so that she could start writing it up after Christmas, but she'd already waded through three quarters of the filing cabinets, getting more and more disheartened when she realised that 99% of the material was Victorian and 20th Century – boy had those Victorians enjoyed writing down every single transaction and hanging on to every last scrap of paper.

But now that she was doing everything she could not to think about Edward, she'd at least stepped up the pace of the search and on a dreary early October day she finally found her first pieces of information.

The first document she came across was the marriage settlement and although Lady Mary had brought £5,000 into the marriage, which was a huge sum for the time, there was another document tucked inside, which made over the whole of the village to Perceval – a wedding gift from his elder brother William.

Bella grinned at the proof that Percy had plenty of money. She already knew that the village was still in family hands right up until the 1930s, so he would have been guaranteed the rents at least and presumably he could have mortgaged or sold off some of the land or properties if he'd needed to, but he hadn't.

And although this discovery made her feel much more optimistic, after three hours of re-distributing records into the correct filing cabinets, which were now strictly organised by date, Bella had definitely had enough for the day when she pulled out a year's worth of early 1960s dry cleaning bills.

The next afternoon she decided to go into the village to see if she could find Lady Mary's grave in the churchyard. So as soon as Melanie arrived she went to let Carlisle know where she was going, which reminded him that he'd finally located the bible with the family tree inside the front cover.

Perceval and Mary's names appeared halfway down the first page and for the first time Bella saw that they'd had three children, although the whole family had been crossed off, presumably because someone had decided that a younger son's line wasn't important enough to take up valuable space.

Quickly she scribbled down the three children's names, two boys and a girl and decided to look for their graves too. Then pulling on her raincoat and grabbing her umbrella, she set out into the rain, glad that she was due at Rosalie's for supper, so at least she would have something cheerful to look forward to afterwards.

After all the talk about ghosts and then finding out about how Alice had died, up to now she'd shied away from going back to the graveyard, in favour of persuading Rose to drive her over to Lady Mary's family home near Constantine, which like the former Cullen estate was now in the hands of the National Trust.

The house and grounds had been absolutely beautiful and Bella had been convinced that only someone who was madly in love with her prospective husband would have chosen to leave all this for such a comparatively humble alternative. Even the landscape would have seemed so bleak and uninviting compared to the lushness of the area around the Helford River, where thick vegetation ran right down to the sea, giving the coast a much softer and more romantic aspect, but probably concealing just as many secrets among its hidden creeks and backwaters.

But that visit had been weeks ago when it was still summer and although it had been interesting, Bella hadn't learnt much from it and she was determined to really get down to business now and move her search on as much as she could. When she reached the village church the rain had turned back into its usual drizzle and after half an hour of searching and getting soaked through, she hadn't been able to find any of the graves. So when she noticed someone going into the church with a large vase of flowers, she decided to try asking for advice.

Luckily the elderly woman, who was making final adjustments to the flower arrangements when Bella stepped inside, turned out to be a church warden and when Bella explained she was looking for information about Mary Cullen and her children, she was only too willing to help.

'Bless you dear, didn't anyone tell you the Cullens have their own crypt inside the church?'

'Oh dear, I can't believe how stupid I am. I stopped to admire it on my last visit, but I'd totally forgotten it was there.'

Bella followed her companion, who introduced herself as Mrs Treloar, up the aisle, then stared at the shrouded female figure lying with her hands joined in an attitude of prayer. Just as she remembered from her previous visit, the stone drapery had been expertly carved and beneath the veil which covered her face, Lady Mary looked as if she was peacefully asleep.

'The marble was imported from Italy and Lady Mary's family made sure the best craftsmen were employed to work on it.' Mrs Treloar's voice interrupted.

Bella traced the Latin inscription again with her finger. Picked out by the electric lights overhead, the gold leaf shone even on this dull day, glowing brightly against the pure white marble, 'Delectus Meus Mihi Et Ego Illi'.

'Do you know what the words mean?'

'Yes. They've caused a bit of a fuss in their time for not being entirely appropriate, because they're from The Song of Solomon, which is rather racy to say the least. The King James version translates the phrase as 'My beloved is mine and I am his.'

For some reason Bella's eyes suddenly filled with tears. Blinking them away she looked down and saw that there were three cherubs at the foot of the plinth Lady Mary was lying on. She didn't want to ask the next question.

'That's nothing to do with the fact that she had three children is it?'

Mrs Treloar followed her eyes, 'Yes, I'm afraid so. All three died in infancy.'

'Do you know how?' Bella was suddenly afraid that Lady Mary had had something to do with their deaths, which was quite scary.

'The usual childhood illnesses I think, but I can't remember the exact details. Do you want to look them up in the parish register?'

'Um… yes please, if you don't mind?'

'The registers are kept under lock and key in the sacristy. Have a sit down and I'll be back in a minute.' and indicating a nearby pew, Mrs Treloar disappeared behind the curtained doorway opposite.

She returned surprisingly quickly with a huge leather bound book, which she opened to reveal a mass of spidery black writing.

'Right, mid 18th century then.'

They both scanned the pages from 1760 onwards when Percy and Lady Mary had married. The stiff and yellowing pages crackled as Mrs Treloar turned them over searching for names. First of all they found the three births, George in 1761 then Grace 1763 and John 1765, then the deaths, John and Grace within a few days of each other in 1765 of scarlet fever and even more heart wrenchingly, the eldest George, in 1766 of smallpox.

Bella had to hold back tears again. She knew disease was always a threat and childhood mortality was a fact of life at that time, so common that the story was almost banal. But to have all three of her children wiped out in such quick succession must have been a terrible blow to bear, especially the last one. Mary must have treasured her eldest child after losing the others and to have had him taken too, six months later, when she was probably just beginning to relax, would have been particularly dreadful.

Suddenly a picture of a blond five year old boy running across the lawn on a summer's day at the Lantern House appeared in Bella's head. He was laughing as he launched himself into his mother's arms – Mary's beautiful Georgie, her pride and joy and her hope for the future.

Bella knew that Perceval had lived until his fifties, but she suspected that although there was still no trace of Mary's death certificate or burial and no dates on her tomb, she had died early. There were no records of any further children being born and from her research Bella knew that within a few months of Percy's death, two maiden aunts had been living in The Lantern House. Maybe that was why the whole family had been crossed off the Cullen family tree – wasted lives, no heirs, a full stop on the page of family history.

If Mary really had gone mad, the rather mundane truth was that the death of all her children was probably the reason, in contrast to all the high drama Bella had been imagining. Perhaps Mrs Treloar could tell her more.

'Do you know anything else about Mary Cullen, or have any idea why I can't find any record of her death?'

'Yes it's very sad. Although you'd never guess it from the serene figure lying there, the poor woman was supposed to have been mistreated by her husband and eventually gone mad. There are even rumours that she killed herself, which would have prevented her having a proper burial. So I'm sure both families would have done their utmost to have that hushed up. But there's no record of any funeral in the register, so perhaps it took place elsewhere? I'm sorry I don't know any more than that.'

-ooo-

By the time she got to Rose's house Bella was really pleased to see her, because not only was she still feeling upset by what she'd discovered at the church, but she was absolutely chilled to the bone by the wind and the horrible clinging mist, which always seemed worse as she trudged along the clifftop. But as usual Rose and Emmett's cottage was warm and welcoming and Rose immediately helped Bella out of her dripping mac and ushered her into the kitchen while their supper finished cooking.

To begin with things had been a bit awkward between them after Bella slept with Edward, because she knew Rose disapproved so much. But by avoiding the subject completely they'd managed not to have a huge row about it and now things were more or less back to normal.

So they both settled down in front of the kitchen fire with a drink, while Bella told Rose all about her horrible discovery at the church. Having someone to talk to about it really helped, as did the bottle of red wine they drank over supper. Then Emmett distracted her some more as only Emmett could, until Bella was feeling happier than she had for quite some time.

But when Emmett disappeared out on his taxi run and Rosalie got her ipad out and began searching for pictures of where they were planning to go on holiday over Christmas, Bella's attention started to wander. Her eyes lingered on the workman's initials cut into the old wooden beam over the open fireplace and with a jolt she remembered the marks Edward had said Alice made him scratch into the woodwork at the Lantern House.

Bella was slightly wary about even mentioning Edward's name to Rose, but the fact that she was hesitant made her more determined. She couldn't keep avoiding the subject forever.

'Hey Rose, would you mind looking something up for me a second? Noticing the initials above your fireplace made me remember something Edward mentioned – crosses scratched around doors and windows.'

Rosalie grimaced slightly at the mention of Edward's name, but managed to restrain herself from making any comment. 'What sort of time period are we looking at? And where?'

'No idea when, but definitely the UK.'

'Sounds like some sort of medieval superstition to me.'

Bella watched as Rose typed in the search box and brought up the results.

She clicked on a promising article.

'Oh, not only medieval then, right up until the 18th century, as a protection against witches and evil spirits entering the house.'

Bella stared at the assorted apotropaic symbols Rose had brought up, one of which was a St Andrews cross, just like the one Edward had shown her. Immediately her good mood evaporated and she felt slightly scared again. What the fuck?

As soon as she got home she went into the observatory and had another look at the mark Edward had shown her on the windowsill, then searched the rest of the house looking for more. In the newer part of the house some of the rooms had wobbly crosses scratched into the window frames or sills and on door jambs and thresholds and were obviously the ones Edward and Alice had made.

But in the older part of the house, the scratches, which also appeared around or in front of fireplaces, were less badly drawn, more difficult to find, and looked much older, and it was creepy to think that someone had been so convinced that evil was a real threat, that they'd gone to such lengths to keep it out of the house.

It was also odd that Alice of all people had told Edward to make those marks, then blamed Lady Mary, and Bella shivered at the thought. She wished even more now that she knew how Lady Mary had died.

-ooo-

As the days passed Bella had realised how depressing it could be in Cornwall once summer was over. The week after Carlisle's birthday party it had begun to rain, then thick mists had swept in and now everything outside was constantly dripping wet and the damp crept in everywhere. Inside, the chimneys smoked and the ancient radiators rattled and groaned in an effort to keep the draughty old house warm and although she put on multiple layers of extra clothing, Bella always felt slightly chilly.

And despite spending more time with Mrs Cope and with Carlisle in the only really warm rooms in the house – the kitchen and the study – where roaring fires always blazed cheerfully, Bella was still unable to shake herself out of her low spirits and every day she had to struggle to put on a smile and pretend everything was fine.

Once or twice she again had a strange feeling that someone had been in the house and that small objects had been moved out of their usual places and although she assumed she must have imagined it and absolutely refused to believe there was anything supernatural going on, it unnerved her enough to make her glance back over her shoulders when she switched the last lights off on the landing at night.

And even on the days when the clouds cleared and the sun came out, Bella still felt melancholy. Perhaps it was a delayed reaction to not really having had the chance to mourn her mother's death properly at the time, but she often found herself remembering her childhood and after months of barely thinking about the city she'd left behind, she rather shamefacedly picked up her friendship with Angela again and exchanged chatty emails and cooed enthusiastically over baby photos.

It was especially cold and miserable up in the attic, but after borrowing a rather temperamental electric heater, which she was convinced was a complete fire hazard, Bella kept up her search, determined to complete the job and finish sorting through the last few drawers of records in the final cabinet.

But up here on her own it was even more difficult to be cheerful and as she sat diligently logging everything she found, even the music playing on her laptop began to sound mournful. And finally she had to admit that the main reason for feeling so lonely and anxious, was not the weather, or her mother, or Lady Mary or any non-existent ghosts, but Edward. Because until he reappeared, she was in limbo.

But it was still only the beginning of November and the long weeks stretched away until Christmas and New Year, and to make things worse, Edward was working almost around the clock now, so even his usual emails had dwindled down to almost nothing. And as Bella reached for the remaining pieces of paper at the back of the final drawer, she was already feeling so miserable, that when she found a bill from a private madhouse for Mary's care, dated a month after her last child had died, it was the last straw.

Sitting down on the floor with a bump, Bella held the bill in her hand and wept. And that was how Rose found her when she entered the room a few minutes later.

'Bella! What on earth's the matter? Are you ok?'

Bella nodded, feeling rather ridiculous for having let her feelings get the better of her. She knew that tears made Rosalie uncomfortable, so after wiping her eyes with her sleeve as best she could, she got up from the floor and sat down at the desk.

'Sorry, things have been getting on top of me a bit lately. I just found out Lady Mary really did go mad. I'll be alright in a minute, what did you want?'

Rose produced some tissues from her handbag and handed them to Bella, so that she could wipe her eyes properly and blow her nose.

'I just came to let you know I'm getting the doctor to call in on Carlisle tomorrow. That cough's been going on for a while now and I'm worried he might have a chest infection. But what's the matter with you? I know it's very sad and I sympathise. But I can't believe you're bawling your eyes out over someone who's been dead for over two hundred years.' She looked at Bella searchingly, 'This is nothing to do with Edward is it?'

'Not really. It's just that I wish things were clearer and I knew where I stood.'

'Huh, I could help you with that.' Rosalie muttered under her breath.

Bella sighed. 'Rose what is it you're dying to tell me?'

Rosalie looked undecided, 'It's just that I don't like to see you building up your hopes. I know you don't have much experience, but why did you have to pick Edward of all people? He's so not worth it.'

Bella blushed. It was true that she didn't have much experience with men, but she wasn't entirely stupid. 'Come on Rose. What is it?'

'I didn't want to be the one to tell you. But I really think you should know that Edward went straight to Lauren the morning after the party. You know, when he said he had to leave early. She posted photos all over facebook.'

For a second Bella insides felt as if they'd been totally crushed and all the breath left her body in a rush as if she'd been knocked off her feet. But self preservation immediately kicked in and she did what she'd always done as a child, when yet another of her mother's bad decisions had turned her life upside down and inside out, she went totally numb and carried on.

Somehow she managed to behave normally and even speak. She brushed off Rose's revelation as if it didn't matter at all, got up and went downstairs, discussed Carlisle's health, let Rose out of the back door and waved goodbye, while the bottom dropped out of her world and the numbness spread like a stain.

She carried on through the rest of the day and went to bed still trying her best not to think about anything to do with Edward. She'd learned early on it only broke your heart to hang onto your dreams and there was no point wishing for what she couldn't have. Rose had warned her to stay away from him and she had no one to blame but herself.

She shied away from memories of her mother screaming and crying at endless deadbeat, no-good boyfriends, who'd betrayed her trust and let her down. She didn't want to be that person, so needy, defeated and desperate. She had more pride and self respect than that. But it hurt so much that it had been Lauren and she tried not to imagine them laughing together at her naivety.

She could have phoned or emailed him to confirm all the details, but what was the point? He'd been honest with her about not making any promises and she really had nothing to reproach him with. It was her own imagination which had betrayed her and dry eyed and resolute, she turned her face to the wall and waited for sleep.

-ooo-

The next morning Bella got up a little earlier than usual and a little paler, but with her head held high and decided to have one last search for any record of Lady Mary's death, then leave it at that. It was disappointing that so many questions were left unanswered, but there was nothing else she could do.

She looked at the handwritten bill again – £1 1s 6d for board and secure lodgings and the services of a maid and a doctor. The address was in Chelsea. Why London? That would have been several days drive away. To have locked Lady Mary up so far from friends and family and everything which was familiar seemed unnecessarily cruel. She must have been so scared and lost. Or perhaps by then she wasn't even aware of what was happening to her?

Bella read through the bill more slowly this time and noticed it wasn't made out to Perceval, but to someone called James Trevear, obviously a family member because Mary's maiden name was Trevear. That was slightly odd. But she remembered that Mary's family had paid for the effigy on her tomb and given her a substantial dowry. They must have loved her very much.

She looked up the house in Chelsea and found it was one of many private madhouses listed at the time. Apart from the workhouse where the old, the sick and the poor ended up in the most horrible conditions, they'd been the only option, apart from caring for people in their own homes.

From what Bella could find out there didn't seem to have been any provision for more well off patients in Cornwall, or the neighbouring county Devon, so that explained why Mary had been sent so far away. Perhaps someone had recommended that particular establishment? She brought up an old map of the area and some images of Chelsea in the 18th century and the house seemed to have been situated in a pleasant green location close to the river. So at least poor Mary may have been comforted by the familiar sound of water.

On a sudden hunch Bella searched for 'Mary Trevear, Chelsea, year of death 1766' and finally a record appeared. The date was the same as the date of the bill and the cause of death was drowning. A link further down the search page led to a newspaper report headed 'Tragic Accident at the Thames in Chelsea.' and described a boatman witnessing a person, who later turned out to be Mary Trevear/Cullen, slipping off the riverside path while walking and falling into the river. It had happened at high tide and she'd drowned before anyone could get to her.

That all sounded a bit unlikely when she was supposed to have been locked up, but Bella remembered what Mrs Treloar had mentioned about suicides being forbidden a proper burial. She did another internet search and found suicide was actually a criminal act right up until 1961, and failed suicides and the relatives of suicides could actually be prosecuted.

The two families must have done their utmost to cover things up as much as they possibly could to avoid a scandal. No wonder there were rumours. The record Bella had found confirmed Mary's body was never even brought back to Cornwall, because she was buried within a few days at Chelsea Old Church.

Well that seemed as far as she was likely to get then. The real story appeared to be only slightly different to the legend. But there were still so many gaps. Were Percy and Mary in love when they married? Did Mary still love Percy at the end? Had he stopped loving her? Somehow his actions didn't fit with the inscription on the tomb or the fact that there was no record of Percy ever having married again. Surely that would have been expected after a decent interval?

Bella looked across at Lady Mary staring quietly down at her from the wall and for the first time she really wanted to cover up the picture or move it to another room. In a strange way she felt cheated. This wasn't how things were supposed to have turned out. Lady Mary's smile was an illusion, caught in one moment on one sunny day, not something which had ever been real or lasting.

Bella's thoughts went back to Edward. She'd been a fool to trust him, to let herself be so thoroughly dazzled by those green eyes and the promise in his smile. She had to harden her heart and toughen up before he came back and remember the lesson she'd learned. But despite everything, it was still going to be difficult and she wondered if she could really pretend to be indifferent and not be drawn in again, on his terms, especially now that she knew all too well what she was missing.

If it hadn't been for the fact that she couldn't leave Carlisle, whose health was now slowly but visibly deteriorating, she might even have thought of running away. But she was trapped. And as if to purposely make her feel even more depressed, within a few days a band of really bad weather swept in and lingered, bringing nothing but cold and rain and gale-force winds, which battled with the waves and howled around the house, threatening to tear everything apart and fling all the pieces into the sea.

At night Bella listened to the roof shake and the sea roar and she'd never felt so lonely. Sometimes she imagined she could hear voices crying for help from the direction of the sea and she pictured all the people who had drowned rising up and scrambling along the cliffs and over-running the garden and the house in a huge unstoppable wave. And once or twice she again had the eerie feeling that things were not in their usual places, although no-one else seemed to have noticed.

And despite trying to keep Edward at arm's length and no longer rushing to return his calls or open his emails, she was powerless to prevent him invading her sleep and in the long lonely nights she was plagued by recurring dreams in which she searched the house in a panic desperately trying to find him, or sadly watched from the shore as he slipped away from her into the dark depths of the sea.

Everything began to seem so unendingly bleak, that she could almost believe that the house really was haunted by Lady Mary, or Alice, or both, or that she was slowly going mad herself. And in the middle of the night, when she opened her eyes with a shock, convinced that a noise in the attic above her head had startled her awake, Bella knew she'd reached her lowest ebb and she had to fight not to gave in to the despair which hung all around her like a cloud.

Then quite unexpectedly, on a cold and grey afternoon in the middle of November, James Romano arrived.