Chapter Text
Elizabeth Kirk was a beautiful but quite forlorn girl of thirteen. Her eyes were striking blue and her hair was dark with an attractive curl in the ends. Her cheeks were not rosy however, for the climate in India where she lived was quite disagreeable and she was often sickly. Her father, Major Alexander Kirk, had taken her there with him after her mother had died when she was just four years old. She had no photographs of her mother, and her father never spoke of her. In fact, Elizabeth’s only souvenir from when she was little was a scar on her palm that had been there as far back as she could remember.
Major Kirk was a stern and distant man, much too engrossed in business to pay her any attention, unless she misbehaved. She understood little of the world, but she knew enough to know that for reasons she couldn’t understand, her father did not love her as other fathers loved their daughters. His was a campaign of neglect, and occasionally, when he was drunk or brooding, cruelty. She led a solitary life, with no other children to play with, only servants whose principal role appeared to be ensuring that she did not wander far from the safety of the luxurious house in which she lived. Although she was an intelligent and imaginative girl, she was extremely lonely. She dreamed of a time when she would be free to do as she pleased, and, above all else, she wanted to be loved.
One morning she woke to find that her usual servant was not there, and a strange, frightened woman told her that her servant could not come to her, and would not come again. From her window she could hear wailing in the streets outside, and began to wander the house to see if she could ascertain what was going on. She went to her father’s study, but was surprised to find he was not there. Perplexed, she went to his bedroom, and crept to listen at the door. She could hear whispers inside, murmurings in local dialect that she did not understand, but that sounded serious.
When the night came, no one brought her supper, and she could find no servant in the house to wait on her. Eventually she fell asleep, confused and hungry, and when she woke, the house was perfectly still. The door to her father’s bedroom was open and the room was empty, as were all the other rooms. Where had everybody gone? Disoriented, she went downstairs to the grand hallway and was relieved to see an officer there from her father’s regiment.
“Good morning” she said, and the man spun round in shock, his face pale as he looked at her.
“God in heaven!” he exclaimed. “Miss Kirk! We thought you were dead.”
Elizabeth frowned. “Why would you think that?”
The man looked at her sorrowfully. “Because everyone else is dead, miss. I’m sorry. They’re all gone.”
It was in that strange and sudden way that Elizabeth Kirk found out that her father had died, and that a devastating cholera outbreak had claimed the lives of most everyone she knew. Those servants who were not sick had fled, leaving her alone and forgotten in the house. The days that followed were a blur, with army officers from her father’s regiment rubbing their brows and talking distractedly about what was to become of the girl who had been left behind. Eventually an officer’s wife, a kind woman named Marigold, explained to her that her father’s will had been found, and that he had left instructions for her to go and live with an English gentleman who lived far away, in the north of England.
Elizabeth was to be sent to live with Lord Raymond Reddington, whose name she had never heard her father speak, and about whom she knew nothing, other than he was a lord, and lived on an estate called Misselthwaite in Yorkshire. When she arrived at the train station in Yorkshire she found herself on a busy platform surrounded by bustling people in grey, black and brown coats and hats. It occurred to her how drab everything was here compared to India, where even her servants had worn brightly coloured clothing. Just then she noticed a particularly boisterous family with five children, all boys, larking about on the platform.
“Excuse me” she said to one of the boys. “I am travelling to Misselthwaite Manor. Do you know it?”
“Know it? Aye. You’d be hard pressed to find one that doesn’t.”
“Is it a nice place?” she enquired.
The boy snorted derisively. “I daresay there’s not a grimmer place around. It’s home to a monster. You best be sure he don’t eat you!” he said with an unpleasant grin.
Elizabeth was taken aback, and quite alarmed by this statement. “A monster? Whatever do you mean?”
“Just that, miss. Ain’t no one seen Lord Reddington for years, but they say he’s disfigured. Covered in scars. The boys on the moor say that if you look him in the eye you turn to stone!” he exclaimed a little too exuberantly.
Elizabeth felt faint. She was about to question the boy further, when his exasperated mother shooed him away, and Elizabeth noticed a stern, older lady with black hair approaching her.
“Elizabeth Kirk?” the woman enquired brusquely.
“Yes” Elizabeth said, curtseying politely.
“Hmmm” the woman mused. “You look like your mother. He won’t like that. Still, there’s nothing to be done.”
Elizabeth frowned at this odd comment. “Why won’t he like it?”
“Never you mind” the woman answered sharply. “I’m Kaplan, Lord Reddington’s housekeeper. I’ve come to take you to Misselthwaite Manor.”
“Thank you… Is it Mrs Kaplan?” Elizabeth asked hesitantly.
“Just Kaplan” the woman answered coldly. “Now get your things and be quick about it.”
Elizabeth blinked at the woman’s perfunctory manner and strange speech, but obediently lifted her case and walked with the stoic house keeper until they were ushered into a carriage outside the station.
“Kaplan?” she began curiously. “Will I be able to meet Lord Reddington tonight?”
“Meet the master? Tonight?” Kaplan exclaimed. “What an absurd notion. We’ve a long drive and it’ll be very late by the time we arrive. Besides, his lordship is very busy and I doubt he’ll have time to see you.”
“Oh” Elizabeth said, very crestfallen. “I thought I should like to thank him for offering to let me live with him.”
“Offering?” Kaplan huffed incredulously. “Not as though he had much choice. Your father left you to him in his will, so he did, as though a child were the same as a set of steak knives” she muttered.
Elizabeth considered this for a moment. “Then they must have been friends, for papa to do that” she concluded. “Don’t you think?”
The housekeeper raised her eyes to heaven exasperatedly. “I think no such thing, and that’s enough of your questions” she said firmly.
It was late at night when they arrived at Misselthwaite, and Elizabeth was alarmed to see that the house loomed large in front of her, stretching out across bleak grounds on the moor. One side of the house appeared to have no windows, and was utterly overgrown with gnarled foliage. In the darkness it looked exactly like the kind of place a monster would live. Inside, the house was just as dark and silent as Kaplan led her up the grand staircase, their path lit by a single candle. As they walked down a long corridor, Elizabeth saw a light flickering from under one of the doors, and a detected a sweet, hazy smell in the corridor.
“The master’s in his study and smoking his horrible opium pipe I see” Kaplan murmured disapprovingly.
“Then may I see him?” Elizabeth asked. “Please?”
“Certainly not” Kaplan snapped. “You’re not to bother him. If he wants to see you, he’ll send for you. But don’t hold your breath. I doubt he’ll want to clap eyes on you.”
Elizabeth nodded, her eyes pricking with tears of disappointment as she continued on down the corridor. Suddenly she had a strange feeling of being watched, and when she turned around she saw that the door to Lord Reddington’s study was slightly ajar. It closed again, and she was so tired that she wondered whether she had imagined it.
As she settled into the looming four poster bed in the room that Kaplan had led her to, she felt for all the world like a tragic princess in a fairy tale, forgotten by the world and locked away with a wretched monster haunting the corridors of the castle. Despite her fears, she slept soundly, waking only once at the creak of footsteps on the floorboards in her room. Terrified, she kept her eyes firmly closed, too frightened to open them and see if the monster had come to her. The intruder stood by her bed in silence for what seemed like an eternity, before turning and leaving the room again, closing the door quietly behind them. Elizabeth trembled in her bed, and thought that perhaps she didn’t want to meet Lord Reddington after all.
The next morning she rose to the sun streaming in through her windows, and saw that in daylight the wildness of the moor was far less frightening than it had been at night. The long grasses and rocks were covered in heather, and there were so many birds chirping about that it made her smile. She jumped when Kaplan came into the room followed by a servant girl not much older than Elizabeth herself, who was carrying a breakfast tray.
“This is Martha Sowerby” the housekeeper said abruptly. “She’ll wait on you for your meals, but mark me well young lady, you’ll not have your own servant here. I’ll not have you taking on airs and graces.”
Elizabeth smiled at the servant girl, who grinned broadly at her in response, and Elizabeth took an immediate liking to her.
“Now you’re to behave yourself while you’re here” Kaplan continued in her cross manner. “Don’t go bothering the master, and under no circumstances must you go in the west wing. Keep out of that part of the house, do you hear?”
“Why can’t I go there?”
“That’s none of your concern. You keep out. The master won’t tolerate anyone going in there, and you’re not too old have your backside tanned if he catches you.”
“Will I see Lord Reddington today?” Elizabeth asked impatiently.
“Heavens no. He’s going away today on business and I’ve no idea when he’ll be back. Sometimes he’s gone months at a time. Now eat your breakfast before it gets cold” she said, and with that she left the room.
“Tha’s wanting to see the master?” Martha enquired in a thick Yorkshire accent, placing the breakfast tray down on a table.
“I’m not sure” Elizabeth answered truthfully. “If he is to be my guardian I should like to meet him. But the boys in the village said that he’s a monster.”
Martha looked uncomfortable. “I’m sure you’ll meet him eventually. But I wouldn’t wait on it.”
Elizabeth sighed. “I have a feeling I’m going to be as lonely here as I was in India.”
“Get off with you” Martha said with a smile. “There’s plenty of us about. You can meet my brother Nick, he’s come to help in the garden today. He keeps animals, I know he’d show you if you’re interested.”
Elizabeth’s face lit up with interest. “I’d love that, thank you!”
She felt cheered, and ate her breakfast quickly so that she could run down to the garden and meet Martha’s brother.
As she made her way from the house and across the lawn she had a feeling of being watched again, and turned in time to see a shadow in the window of Lord Reddington’s study. If indeed that was her new guardian, he seemed human-shaped, not terribly large or hunched over. But his outline was all she could see, and he turned away from the window, perhaps when he saw her looking, she thought sadly.
She cheered when she saw a boy of about her age, petting a very large and fluffy sheep.
“You must be Martha’s brother” she said, approaching him cautiously.
“An tha’s miss Elizabeth” he said, nodding to her. “Pleased to meet you.”
“I’m pleased to meet you too” Elizabeth said, smiling. “Your sheep is so fat!” she laughed sweetly then, staring in delight as the woolly beast lumbered around the boy.
“Ah, she’s not fat – she’s pregnant!” he explained. “It’ll be lambing season soon. I’ll be helping her out when her time comes.”
“Oh how exciting!” Elizabeth said. “I’ve never seen an animal being born.”
“Can’t avoid it on the moor. Life and death and life again all the time round here.”
He looked past her then and Elizabeth turned to see a black carriage and horses pull down the drive and out through the gates. Her guardian had left without so much as a hello.
“Lord Reddington” she said quietly. “He’s going away before I’ve even met him. I’ve I heard he’s a monster.”
Nick shrugged. “I’ve heard them stories too. Ain’t no one seen him proper who can say for sure. Not even Martha.”
Elizabeth frowned. “Do you mean no one sees him at all?”
“He doesn’t see anyone now, save Kaplan. Not since his wife and daughter passed.”
Elizabeth’s eyes grew round. “He was married?”
“Aye. With a little girl too. That was a long time ago.”
“How did they die?” Elizabeth asked.
“It happened there” he said, pointing towards the grand house. “That’s why he stays away. Me mam says I’m not allowed to talk about it though.”
“Oh” Elizabeth said, confused. “Well I wouldn’t want to get you into trouble. It was nice meeting you.”
She curtseyed politely and went off to walk around the garden, wondering what terrible thing had happened in the house, and feeling a great sadness on behalf of her new and mysterious guardian.