Synopsis

This is the tale of Penelope Kerr, a young Victorian widow, who has been left with the task of singlehandedly bringing up her two boys on her recently inherited country estate. Although undaunted by a seemingly endless series of mishaps and misfortune, it finally dawns on her that the events might possibly be connected after all; so is there somebody out there with less than honourable intentions?

"And you couldn't even save the horses?" she questioned again, whilst this time turning to look straight at him."No ma'am. You see both of the doors appeared jammed, and we couldn't open either; well, if I didn't know different, it was almost as if..""Are you making an implication that the fire could well have been started deliberately?" interrupted the young lady whilst staring at him with widening eyes. "It must always be considered as a possibility Ma'am; after all this is the second serious incident we've been summons to attend at your property within as many months.""But the other was only a small fire which slightly damaged one of the outbuildings." she insisted. "so surely that could hardly be deemed as serious?"

If truth be known at this point, the previous month's fire might well have spread with the same alarming rapidity as that of the second, was it not for the prompt action of the gardener who happened upon the blaze shortly after it's inception. Drewry was quite insistent that he had spied a figure running away from the scene not two minutes earlier, and it was the investigation of this event which caused him to discover the root of the fire before it had time to take hold, so dictating the cause to be far from accidental.

The positive identification of that person still remained for them an unsolved mystery. The local Constabulary had been informed of the incident at the time, and after receiving a visitation from one of the officers, a possible grudge bearing individual was named who might well have had good enough reason for the arson attempt. The fellow was a stable lad of some eighteen years, who went by the name of Jim Forester. He had recently been dismissed from service at the house having been found in the possession of goods which had gone missing earlier on in the year; but at the time he had repeatedly sworn that he had never seen the misplaced articles before. It took the constable several days to locate the suspect in the nearby town of Dursley, but the theory had to be later abandoned when the lad was able to offer a castiron alibi for his movements on the night in question.

The young lady's melancholic gaze followed the firefighter as he recrossed the yard to where the body of his men were standing next to the fire tender in readiness for their departure, whilst at the same time perceived the shadowy figure of an elderly woman wearing a shawl, leave the side entrance of the house and start to cross over to where she was now standing.

"Mother!" she scolded in a lowered voice as the figure approached. "Go back inside this instant! You'll likely catch your death!"

The elderly woman seemed intent on ignoring the warning and caught hold of her arm.

"Whist! It'll not be me who catches my death it be you Penny!" she insisted. "Just look at you, you're shivering whilst I talk, and don't forget that you've poor William to consider as well!"

The elderly woman removed her hand and layed it on the head of the young boy who stared up at her with a bewildered look on his face.

"Mummy says that I won't be able to go and feed Rupert this morning, why is that? I always go to feed Rupert after breakfast don't I Grandma?"

His little face looked up at her expectantly. The elderly woman looked into her daughter's eyes, and words were not necessary for her to confirm the worst; the little boy pulled on her arm again.

"She says that he's gone away Grandma, but where's he gone and why does Mummy say that he won't be coming back?"

The women turned and watched as the two men carefully opened the badly charred sections of the wooden doors, and proceeded to exercise the utmost caution upon entered the remains of the building. As the two of them disappeared into the smoky gloom, the young lady came to the realisation that some later time on during their excavations, it would  become necessary for them to set about discharging the most unpleasant duty involving the disposal of the remains of the late unfortunate occupants. She shivered at the prospect and having pulled the velvet collar tight around her neck, turned away from the scene of devastation and looked out towards the lakes and the lightening sky.

Being the mistress of Kitts' Vale was becoming increasingly difficult with the passing of time since her dear Edward was taken in the October of the previous year; so now her sole argument for remaining to manage the family seat rested with the desire to respect his last wishes. But it was during times such as these that the attraction of selling up and moving into somewhere less demanding was brought to the fore again; but as on several previous occasions, her tenacious resolve had become more hardened. No, she would not be beaten; it was going to take more than a string of bad luck to evict Penelope Kerr from her rightful home so betraying her late husband's trust and that was for sure! She would tolerate these setbacks if only to ensure that her two sons would have something of substance left to inherit. Penny smiled to herself; her father had often called her stubborn when he was alive as her mother often recollected, and there was no doubt about it that he was right. Without further comment she searched out and took hold of her mother's hand, then leant over to give her a light peck on the cheek before guiding the three of them back towards the partly open doorway and the welcoming warmth of the house.

Although the eight hundred acres of the Kitts' Vale estate had been in the possession of the Kerr family for several hundreds of years, the 'Mansion', as it was often known locally, had only been completed some twentythree years earlier in the August of eighteen sixtyseven. The house had been situated near to the bottom of a shallow tree lined valley some threequarters of a mile in from the road which marked the limit of the estates' Western boundary, and by the exclusive use of a locally quarried Cotswold stone for it's construction, William Kerr had created a quite unique and imposing structure when compared to similar buildings of it's time. Quite understandably, this situation afforded a somewhat restricted viewpoint, with the exception of that obtained towards the East, where a charming perspective could be taken in of the Tower and the Colliers' Lake, which was the first of five picturesque waters' to be found in a string about half a mile further on down the valley.

William Kerr, his wife Diane, and their two son's, Edward and Warwick, took up residence in the November of that same year, and stayed together as a family at Kitts' Vale for the next seven Summers. But things were to change on one cold and damp March morning of eighteen seventyfive, when younger son Warwick bestowed an unforseen air of depression on the household by giving notice of his successfully lodged application to seek a diplomatic career within the British provincial governmental offices based in Calcutta. Diane Kerr was clearly distraught at the prospect of losing a son to such a distant outpost of the British Empire, and although she repeatedly expressed to him her feelings on the matter over the following five weeks, it became clear that his resolve was not to be changed. Warwick Thomas Kerr duly boarded his Bombay bound vessel in the last days of April, and although a regular line of correspondence was soon established, destiny saw to it that he was never to return home again during the lifetime of either parent.

This cloud of depression was quite unexpectedly lifted from the family some two weeks later when their elder son Edward formally announced his engagement to Penelope Ann, daughter of Lord and Lady Summerfield, the owners of Burton House just over the river in Monmouthshire.

 His first meeting with the little dark haired Welsh girl was in the auditorium of the Gloucester Playhouse during late September of the previous year, where he was expecting to attend a performance of Shakespeare’s work "The Tempest." It could not be likened to the most romantic of introductions one hears of; but when the pretty young lady seated next to him had the misfortune to deposit the contents of her purse at his feet,( having been shocked by the sound of the thunder crash at the beginning of Act one, Scene one), he felt it nothing more than a gentlemanly act to go down on his knees in the gloom to assist in the recovery of the more wayward coinage from beneath the seats. Having duly accomplished this good deed just before the entry of Caliban, he expected to hear nothing further of the saga, but the strong willed young lady had a very different viewpoint on the subject which became apparent as Edward walked through the foyer at the conclusion of the performance. It was here that he was courteously accosted by her father who relayed a request for his attendance at a dinner party which was to be held at their residence on the Sunday next. As Edward was aware of no prior arrangements having already been made for that evening, he readily agreed to avail himself of the kindness. The subsequent acquaintanceship on the Sunday was a resounding success for both parties, and Penny's mother was even known to claim in later years that one could easily see the embryonic seeds of Wedlock being sown on that first  joyous occasion they spent together.

 The wedding which took place at the altar of the little chapel at Kitts' Vale in February eighteen seventysix was a quiet affair, being only witnessed by a close ring of friends and relatives. There had been a heavy frost during the night, so the ground outside was covered with a glittering crystallike carpet as the sun rose over the distant hills and streamed in through the intricate patterning and vibrant colours of the huge arched stained glass window which occupied a larger part of the end wall.  The short ceremony was conducted by the Reverend Ian Bradley, ( who had come over from the nearby Church at Nympsfield ), only to be followed an hour or so later at midday by a Wedding Breakfast in the Great Hall of such gargantuan proportions that the happy couple were only able to take their leave as the late afternoon sun was dipping below the line of trees on the hill behind the house. The two of them then set off to spend a few days in London, before leaving the shores of England to travel the globe in pursuit of Edwards' increasingly lucrative calling as a structural bridge engineer.

The late eighteen hundreds brought with them a time when the railway networks of the World had set themselves the challenge of conquering even the most underdeveloped of continents; linking scattered areas of distant civilisations in a style that would never have been dreamed possible only a matter of years before. Each newly proposed route would bring with it a list of obstructions and voids to be remedied in the outset, so utilising the services of the same handful of persons with the requisite ingenuity of mind to contrive the most workable solutions; on a few occasions the contracts only ran for a matter of weeks, but it was far more customary to see them spread over a longer period of four or five months.

However much the Kerr's might have enjoyed this exciting and ever changing way of life during their first four years together, by the end of eighteen eightyone, Penny evinced the desire to see the members of her family back home again; and it was not long after having discussed the subject that Edward fell victim to the attentions of a female Anopheles mosquito for the second time that year. On this occasion though, he made a relatively poor recovery from his illness, so it only took the belated news of Penelope's father having being lost some months ago in a riding accident, to instigate the winding up of their international affairs and the booking of their return passage.

Upon their return in the January of eighteen eightytwo, it was at Penelopes' request that the couple spent their first two months with her mother at Burton House, before taking up permanent residence in a suite of rooms at Kitts' Vale Mansion; where on the twelfth of December, Penelope gave birth to Charles Leonard, the first of their two sons.

Their second son, William George, was born in the July of 'eighty five, and from the outset proved to be a complete contrast to the likes of his elder brother. Charles was a healthy active boy, always to be found in the pursuit of some daring feat, and with never a day to be seen in the sick room. William however, was a somewhat more delicate child, with perhaps the misfortune of catching whatever ailment was destined to reach his brother but never did. It is true to relate though, that he might well have not lived past his fifth birthday had he been of a stronger physique; as in the August of eighteen ninety, a strain of botulism swept through the Severn Valley, taking along with it five members of the Kitts' Vale household in the process. It took several weeks of exhaustive enquiries by the authorities after the event, to trace the epidemic to a shipment of meat which had been obtained by the local supplier at a keen price from some dubious source in Wiltshire.

Those two terrible weeks heralded an unbelievable change in Penelope’s life, as in the space of a few hours she had the responsibilities appertaining to the mistress of the great house thrust upon her, along with the duties and obligations towards it's waves of sick and dying. Old Mr and Mrs Kerr were the first to pass away towards the end of the first week, with two of the staff and her dear Edward close to the end by the beginning of the second. An exhausted cry for help summonsed her mother from Burton House, and brought along with it both the physical and moral support that she desperately needed.

From that day on, Penny spent much of her time organising the preparation of draughts and potions in the kitchen area, in between accepting alternate visitations by both the undertaker and the doctor; but even after having found that there were too few hours in each day, she still insisted on being left undisturbed in the Chapel for a few minutes of silent prayer every night and morning on her knees at the altar rail where it seemed to her an age since she had taken her nuptual vows.

Edward Kerr finally slipped away into the next life through a state of high fever with his wife at his bedside attending to his last worldly needs, in the early morning of September the eighth, eighteen ninety. She had somehow known that it would soon be all over when his body was suddenly attacked with a spasm of frenzied delirium, which was to be followed by an almost calm sense of knowing and acceptance.

At fourfifteen, just before he was heard to utter his last words, he reached out weakly across the bed covers and took hold of her hand for the last time.

"I'm sorry Penny," he whispered as she leant over towards him. "Sorry to have to leave you like this."

Penny squeezed his hand and shook her head slowly as the tears started to fall freely down her cheeks.

"Look after the boys won't you.... in a manner that would have made me proud?" His voice was now failing fast.

Penny clasped his hand against her cheek and closed her eyes.

"As God is my witness." she murmured.

"I know you will." he sighed with his last drawn breath; then as his spirit departed, she felt his body shudder and go limp.

She just sat there in silence, watching for some movement to signify  that all was not lost, but none came. Placing his hand down carefully on the bed Penny rose up from her seat with the intention of going over to the dressing table to fetch a mirror, but as she glanced back down at the peacefully resting form of her husband, she knew that it would be no longer required.

The following Monday morning was to see the household at Kitts' Vale begin to return to a semblance of order and punctuality in accordance with that which would have been deemed acceptable before the disruptive happenings of the previous two weeks. In an attempt to restore the smooth running of events in as quick a time as possible, the new mistress had even taken it upon herself to manufacture a set of guidelines on a white card to be affixed to the kitchen door, listing the expected hours for meals along with that of other important daily duties. The little Welsh lady dressed in her long black lainage gown with black crape headdress, already commanded an enviable degree of loyalty and respect from the staff in acknowledgement for the remarkable kindness and caring qualities she had exuded whilst guiding them through their recent traumatic experiences.

In those early days, Penelope spent a large proportion of her time dealing with matters of household administration from a writing desk she had installed for that express purpose in the library; which was chosen for it's convenient but acceptable proximity to the kitchens and the servants' quarters. One of the first letters she had felt compelled to write was that to Edwards' brother Warwick, (with whom she had never in fact met, but knew to be still residing in Calcutta). In it she presented a brief introduction to herself, and an outline of the recent happenings at Kitts' Vale, before delicately breaking to him the tragic news of his family's untimely demise.

As Penny sealed the envelope and pressed the little 'KV' monogram firmly into the crimson coloured molten pool, she paused to reflect just how much worse her situation could have been had one of the boys been taken from her as well; imagine if poor William hadn't been incapacitated in his bed so not deemed fit enough to consume his regular meals, or what if Charles hadn't been away at boarding school? She turned the envelope over in her hand and scrutinised the writing on the front, wondering how many weeks it was going to take to receive a reply; then mused on the thought of it going astray and her never knowing. Penny fanned her face with the envelope, looked thoughtfully at the row of books on the shelf in front of her and tried hard to remember just how long it used to take for letters to reach her when she and Edward were living in South Africa; but maybe this was nothing more than idle speculation because it could well take a lot longer for the post to reach India?

The reply in fact took all of seven weeks to materialise, and took the form of Butler Gerard Thornton knocking lightly on the door of the library at nine fourtyfive, to announce the arrival of the early morning visitors.

"Yes Thornton?" she enquired, looking up from her customary examination of the monthly tradesmans' accounts.

"A Mr Kerr and a Miss Rogers to see you Ma'am. I took the liberty of showing them into the drawing room."

Penny looked blank for a fleeting moment before the recognition of the former name struck her.

"Oh goodness!" she said springing to her feet and straightening her dress, "It must be Edwards' brother!" then without further ado, she gathered up her skirts and hurried away past him and into the corridor beyond.

As she swept in through the partly open doorway, the first person her eyes alighted on took the form of a very expensively dressed and elegant lady seated in one of the easy chairs in the middle of the room; at a first glance Penny judged her to be some five years younger than herself. A tallish Gentleman dressed in a light grey suit, the likes of whom she had not immediately espied, was standing over at one of the windows, and turned on hearing her approach.

"Mrs Penelope Kerr?" he said with an almost familiar sounding voice.

Penny smiled and nodded as he started towards her, noting the distinct family resemblances both in the facial features and in that of the walk.

"Pleased to meet you at last." she said, permitting him to take hold of her hand, "And this is Miss Rogers?" she added turning towards the primly seated figure; but received nothing further in response than a cursory nod of the head.

"Do please sit down Mr Kerr." she invited, reverting her attentions to the Gentleman and waving a hand towards an adjacent seat.

"No thank you, I'm afraid that we can't stay long." he said half turning towards the doorway where the figure of the under housemaid had just appeared in readiness to procure any forthcoming request for either refreshment or sustenance. The figure hurriedly acknowledged the implied message by first bobbing a curtsey, and then tactfully withdrawing her person from the room.

The uneasy silence which ensued, caused Penny to clasp her hands with extreme fervour.

"II take it that you will be going over to see the solicitors this morning?" she asked expectantly.

 "I made their acquaintance late yesterday afternoon." came the terse reply.

"Yesterday?  Oh!  Then I wonder if perchance you found your family's affairs in good order?" Penny wrung her hands tightly together fearing that he may well have taken exception to her handling of some particular detail. "Do I take it that Mr Blake was not too pleased with my performance then?"

A halfsmile flickered in the corners of his thin lips as he turned towards his lady friend.

"Oh no. To quote his exact words, Mr Blake thought that you undertook your duties with 'an unusual thoroughness, apparent in every detail'."

Penny glanced sideways at the seated figure and noted that she was positively glaring at her partner, before hurriedly reverted her attention to the Gentleman again.

"In fact I believe that I should be expressing my eternal gratification for your scrupulous exactness in rendering me a considerable service." he added with more than a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

Penny perceived that something had gone very wrong with the arrangements, and was also quite unsure as to the correct way to pursue the subject of her status within the family, along with that of her two sons; would they have to find alternative accommodation, or would Mr Kerr oblige her by permitting the retention of their suite of rooms until such time as the boys were old enough to go their separate ways?

By now, Warwick Kerr had turned to face her again, so Penny awkwardly looked about the room and held out her hands.

"I have endeavoured to look after the house and it's contents in the absence of your parents and brother to the best of my humble abilities, and can only offer my most sincerest apologies for any inattention or omission that you might note. I have also taken great pains to regulate the expenditure so...."

"Expenditure, Pah!" uttered the seated lady in a discourteous and disagreeable manner, and having risen to her feet with a haughty toss of her head in contempt, she storming out of the room.

Penny lowered her hands and looked hurt, struck by the ineptitude of the remark; glancing first at the empty doorway and then back over towards her remaining visitor who was now revealing a mildly amused countenance.

"Don't let her bother you." he said with a casual wave of his hand. "She's still wearied by her long journey; it's nothing that YOU said. Anyway, I  too had better take my leave. Maybe we'll see something of you in the near future? We are intending to live locally, at Woodchester in fact."

"But whats' to happen with.., I mean are you intending to.." stammered Penny looking about herself in perplexity.

"Meaning the house?" questioned the gentleman carelessly as he collected his hat and gloves from the little table he passed en route to the door. "Why it's yours of course, along with everything that Edward owned." The gentleman paused and turned preempting her next question. "I did tolerably well myself don't worry; three farms, along with the residual income, a row of cottages and a pleasantly appointed town house in Woodchester itself. Yes, I feel that I have done tolerably well. Good day to you Mrs Kerr; I can see myself out."

Penny's legs shook uncontrollably as she sat herself down rather heavily on the seat of the nearest chair, quite unable to accept the realisation of the situation. So that was why his lady friend Miss Rogers was so put out! She clearly wanted Warwick to inherit Kitts' Vale and couldn't accept the notion of it being bequeathed to ME of all persons; but why ME? Why didn't the late Mr Kerr make provision to leave it to his surviving son?

Penny pressed her forehead deep into her hands and tried to reason with herself; had Edward been aware of his plan, and if so for how long? She shook her head in an attempt to resolve the dilemma, but to no avail. How she would have dearly loved to see the wording on that Will for herself..."