The Tale of Hawthorn House Read online

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Dedication

  Chapter 1 - The Village Goes to a Fête

  Chapter 2 - Village Affairs, from Other Points of View

  Chapter 3 - “No More Babies!”

  Chapter 4 - Miss Potter Is Astonished

  Chapter 5 - The True Tale of Jemima Puddle-duck

  Chapter 6 - Miss Potter Makes a Special Delivery

  Chapter 7 - Where Emily Went and What She Found There

  Chapter 8 - Jemima Counts to Ten

  Chapter 9 - In Which Miss Potter Learns a Shocking Truth

  Chapter 10 - The Fox and the Badger

  Chapter 11 - Captain Woodcock Consults

  Chapter 12 - Beatrix Says Goodbye

  Chapter 13 - Major Kittredge Takes a Major Risk

  Chapter 14 - The Village Is Fully Informed

  Chapter 15 - Miss Potter and Miss Woodcock Go Calling

  Chapter 16 - At Miss Pennywhistle’s Select Establishment for Young Ladies of ...

  Chapter 17 - The Hand-Woven Cover: Part One

  Chapter 18 - The Hand-Woven Cover: Part Two

  Chapter 19 - Captain Woodcock Investigates

  Chapter 20 - The Hawthorn Folk

  Chapter 21 - Deirdre Receives a Letter

  Chapter 22 - Kep Turns Detective

  Chapter 23 - Miss Potter Goes to London

  Chapter 24 - The Fox, the Duck, and the Shot in the Night

  Chapter 25 - Captain Woodcock Learns the Latest

  Chapter 26 - Miss Woodcock Takes a Stand

  Chapter 27 - Miss Potter Takes Charge

  Chapter 28 - Jemima Takes Stock

  Chapter 29 - Miss Barwick Delivers

  Chapter 30 - Dimity Deals with Eggs

  Chapter 31 - And More Eggs!

  Chapter 32 - Tortoises?

  Chapter 33 - The Tale of Hortense the Tortoise

  Chapter 34 - Captain Woodcock Concludes

  Chapter 35 - Miss Potter Tells a Story

  Chapter 36 - Dinner at Tower Bank House

  Chapter 37 - The Professor Concludes

  HISTORICAL NOTE

  Resources

  Recipes from the Land Between the Lakes

  Glossary

  China Bayles Mysteries by Susan Wittig Albert

  THYME OF DEATH

  WITCHES’ BANE

  HANGMAN’S ROOT

  ROSEMARY REMEMBERED

  RUEFUL DEATH

  LOVE LIES BLEEDING

  CHILE DEATH

  LAVENDER LIES

  MISTLETOE MAN

  BLOODROOT

  INDIGO DYING

  AN UNTHYMELY DEATH

  A DILLY OF A DEATH

  DEAD MAN’S BONES

  BLEEDING HEARTS

  SPANISH DAGGER

  CHINA BAYLES’ BOOK OF DAYS

  With her husband, Bill Albert, writing as Robin Paige

  DEATH AT BISHOP’S KEEP

  DEATH AT GALLOWS GREEN

  DEATH AT DAISY’S FOLLY

  DEATH AT DEVIL’S BRIDGE

  DEATH AT ROTTINGDEAN

  DEATH AT WHITECHAPEL

  DEATH AT EPSOM DOWNS

  DEATH AT DARTMOOR

  DEATH AT GLAMIS CASTLE

  DEATH IN HYDE PARK

  DEATH AT BLENHEIM PALACE

  DEATH ON THE LIZARD

  Beatrix Potter Mysteries by Susan Wittig Albert

  THE TALE OF HILL TOP FARM

  THE TALE OF HOLLY HOW

  THE TALE OF CUCKOO BROW WOOD

  THE TALE OF HAWTHORN HOUSE

  Nonfiction books by Susan Wittig Albert

  WRITING FROM LIFE

  WORK OF HER OWN

  THE BERKLEY PUBLISHING GROUP

  Published by the Penguin Group

  Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

  375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014, USA

  Penguin Group (Canada), 90 Eglinton Avenue East, Suite 700, Toronto, Ontario M4P 2Y3, Canada

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  Penguin Books Ltd., Registered Offices: 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England

  This book is an original publication of The Berkley Publishing Group.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

  Frederick Warne & Co Ltd is the sole and exclusive owner of the entire rights titles and interest in and to the copyrights and trade marks of the works of Beatrix Potter, including all names and characters featured therein. No reproduction of these copyrights and trade marks may be made without the prior written consent of Frederick Warne & Co Ltd.

  PUBLISHER’S NOTE: The recipes contained in this book are to be followed exactly as written. The publisher is not responsible for your specific health or allergy needs that may require medical supervision. The publisher is not responsible for any adverse reactions to the recipes contained in this book.

  Copyright © 2007 by Susan Wittig Albert.

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

  The name BERKLEY PRIME CRIME and the BERKLEY PRIME CRIME design are trademarks belonging to Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  Albert, Susan Wittig.

  The tale of Hawthorn House / Susan Wittig Albert.

  p. cm. — (The cottage tales of Beatrix Potter)

  eISBN: 9781101375853

  1. Potter, Beatrix, 1866-1943—Fiction. 2. Women authors—Fiction. 3. Women artists—

  Fiction. 4. Foundlings—Fiction. 5. Villages—Fiction. 6. Manors—England—Fiction. 7.

  England—Fiction. I. Title.

  PS3551. L2637T348 2007

  813’ .54—dc22 2007002729

  http://us.penguingroup.com

  To Linda Lear,

  with grateful thanks for her sustaining friendship

  The most wonderful and the strongest things in the world, you know, are just the things which no one can see. There is life in you; and it is the life in you which makes you grow, and move, and think: and yet you can’t see it. And there is steam in a steam-engine; and that is what makes it move: and yet you can’t see it; and there may be fairies in the world, and they may be just what makes the world go round to the old tune of

  C’est l’amour, l’amour, l’amour

  Qui fait la monde à la ronde:

  and yet no one may be able to see them except those whose hearts are going round to that same tune. At all events, we will make believe t
hat there are fairies in the world. It will not be the last time by many a one that we shall have to make believe. And yet, after all, there is no need for that. There must be fairies; for this is a fairy-tale: and how can one have a fairy-tale if there are no fairies?

  Charles Kingsley, The Water Babies, 1863

  Cast of Characters

  (* indicates an actual historical person or creature)

  People of the Land Between the Lakes

  Beatrix Potter* is best known for the series of children’s books that began with The Tale of Peter Rabbit (1902). She lives with her parents in London and owns Hill Top Farm, in the Lake District village of Near Sawrey. Mr. and Mrs. Jennings live in the Hill Top farmhouse with their three children: Sammy, Clara, and Baby Pearl. They manage the farm while Miss Potter is in London.

  Sarah Barwick (also known as Sarah Scones) lives in Anvil Cottage, at the corner of Market Street and the Kendal Road, where she operates her bakery.

  Captain Miles Woodcock is Justice of the Peace for Sawrey District. He lives in Tower Bank House with his sister, Dimity Woodcock, who has assumed temporary care of Baby Flora, a foundling child. Elsa Grape keeps house and cooks for the Woodcocks.

  Major Christopher Kittredge is the master of Raven Hall and an admirer of Dimity Woodcock.

  Will Heelis,* Captain Woodcock’s friend, is a solicitor who lives in the nearby market town of Hawkshead. He is the captain’s choice for a husband for Dimity Woodcock.

  Lucy Skead is the village postmistress. She lives at Low Green Gate Cottage and dispenses gossip with the post. Other notorious village gossipers: Mathilda Crook, of Belle Green; Hannah Braithwaite, of Croft End Cottage (wife of the village constable); Lydia Dowling, of Meadowcroft Cottage (the village shop), and her niece and helper Gladys; and Bertha Stubbs, who works at Sawrey School.

  Mr. and Mrs. Barrow operate the village inn and pub, the Tower Bank Arms, where they live with their children.

  Jane Crosfield, a weaver, lives at Holly How Farm, on the Tidmarsh Manor estate. Her nephew, Jeremy Crosfield, fourteen, attends boarding school in Ambleside.

  Mrs. Graham, a midwife, lives with her husband and children at Long Dale Farm, on Glade Lane. Her old mother, Mrs. Frost, a former weaver, lives with them.

  Mrs. Janet Allen lives at Willow Bank Cottage on Graythwaite Farm. She keeps exotic pets, including a pair of leopard tortoises named Hortense and Horatio.

  Deirdre Malone, thirteen, lives with Mr. and Mrs. Sutton and their eight children at Courier Cottage. Deirdre takes care of the children, and Mrs. Pettigrew cooks and keeps house.

  Emily Shaw was formerly a maid at Tidmarsh Manor, then employed by Miss Rowena Keller at Hawthorn House, and lastly by Miss Pennywhistle, at Miss Pennywhistle’s Select Establishment for Young Ladies, in London.

  Caroline Longford, thirteen, lives with her grandmother, Lady Longford, at Tidmarsh Manor. She has a new governess, Miss Cecily Burns. Also at Tidmarsh Manor: Mrs. Beever, the cook-housekeeper, and Mr. Beever, the gardener and coachman.

  Other Creatures Who Inhabit the Land

  Between the Lakes

  Mrs. Overthewall is one of the Thorn Folk, who were evicted from the hawthorn trees at Hawthorn House.

  Tabitha Twitchit, who lives with the Crooks at Belle Green, is the senior village cat. A calico with an orange and white bib, she expects respect and sometimes gets it.

  Crumpet is a gray tabby who makes her home with the Stubbses in Lakefield Cottage, and believes that she is next in line for senior cat status.

  Rascal, a Jack Russell terrier, lives with the Crooks at Belle Green, but spends most of his time organizing and managing village affairs.

  Jemima Puddle-duck is the maternally minded duck in Miss Potter’s book, The Tale of Jemima Puddle-Duck (1908). Mr. Reynard Vulpes, Esq., of Foxglove Close (who also appears in Miss Potter’s book), is her ardent admirer.

  Kep,* a collie, is the new Top Dog at Hill Top Farm. Mustard , an old yellow dog, helps out when he is feeling fit. Other barnyard animals include Aunt Susan and Dorcas, the Berkshire pigs; Kitchen the Galway cow and Blossom, her calf; Winston the pony; Boots, Shawl, and Bonnet, the superfluous hens assigned to hatching ducklings; and various Puddle-ducks. Tibbie* and Queenie* and their Herdwick lambs enjoy the freedom of Hill Top Farm.

  Jackboy the Magpie carries tales, but his Cockney rhyming slang makes it hard to understand them.

  Bosworth Badger XVII lives in The Brockery on Holly How with an ever-changing variety of residents and guests. Bosworth maintains the History of the Badgers of the Land Between the Lakes and its companion work, the Holly How Badger Genealogy.

  Professor Galileo Newton Owl, D.Phil., is a tawny owl who conducts advanced studies in astronomy and applied natural history from his home in a hollow beech at the top of Cuckoo Brow Wood.

  PROLOGUE

  Hawthorn House

  THURSDAY, 20 AUGUST, 1908

  From the very beginning, Emily had been uneasy at Hawthorn House.

  Granted, she was an imaginative girl whose fancies sometimes ran away with her common sense. But her feelings about Hawthorn House went beyond fancy—or so it seemed to Emily. The house was secretive, as if it were keeping a great many things to itself, things that ought to be revealed. It sat on the side of a hill overlooking the lake, but not proudly, the way a hillside house ought to sit. Instead, it seemed hunched and huddled, as if it were too troubled by interior matters to look out across the lake.

  Or perhaps it was merely that Hawthorn House did not want anybody to look at it. It was, after all, very ugly. The walls came together at the wrong angles, the slate roof was studded with towers and turrets and chimney pots and gables, the windows were in all the wrong places, and the garden was overgrown with nettle and thistle. No one had lived in Hawthorn House in years and years, for one very simple reason.

  It was haunted.

  Oh, not in the usual way. No long-dead ladies dressed in white, or headless monks or bearded gentlemen without arms. It was worse than that—oh, much, much worse. Hawthorn House was haunted by dead dreams. It had been cursed by its evicted tenants, who vowed that the house would never again—

  But we’ll come to that later. The baby is crying, and we must get on with our story.

  In fact, Baby Flora (who was generally quiet and well behaved, for one so young) had been crying steadily in her cradle for the past hour, ever since Mrs. Graham had brought her back. It was now one in the afternoon, and not even her bottle had brought her any comfort.

  And Emily—who was pacing up and down the kitchen, biting her lip and wringing her hands—was crying, too, mostly in sympathy with Baby Flora, but also in vexation and disappointment. At this very hour, she should have been at Windermere Station, boarding the afternoon train for London, where Miss Keller was waiting. Instead, she was marooned here at Hawthorn House, which (even if nothing had gone wrong) would have been a very unpleasant prospect, for the place was gloomy and isolated and ugly. And haunted.

  Emily shivered at the word, pushing it away, out of her mind. The situation was bad enough without thinking about that, for everything had gone wrong. She was here by herself, with no hope at all of getting away. At the thought, the tears came even more freely—tears, it must be admitted, of self-pity.

  Now, before you think too ill of our Emily, I must tell you that she believed little Flora to be the dearest thing imaginable. While Emily was waiting for the baby to be born, she had knitted tiny caps in baby colors: pink for a girl, blue for a boy, yellow for both. She had been the first to cradle the newborn in her arms, to kiss the corner of her sweet rosebud mouth and whisper a welcome into her tiny pink ear. She had slept beside Flora’s cradle and got up in the night when Flora fretted. And in the fortnight since the baby’s birth, she had willingly learnt all sorts of new and necessary motherings, from changing baby’s nappies to administering bottle and bath.

  But I must also tell you that Emily was scarcely sixteen and still a girl, for all that she had the form and face o
f a young woman. And even though she had understood what she was letting herself in for (as much as one can be said to understand a new situation before one finds oneself in it up to one’s pretty chin), Emily’s romantic mind had painted the prospective experience in unmistakably rosy hues. But she had made mistakes, some of them quite regrettable.

  For one thing, she had trusted the gypsy lad to whom she had given her heart when she met him at market some months before. But he did not love her as faithfully as he had promised. He had gone to the south of England to work in the hops fields without a goodbye and she had not had a letter from him since, not even so much as a ha’penny postcard.

  And for another, she had trusted Mrs. Graham, who had agreed to take the baby when Miss Keller returned to London, so that Emily could follow. Emily would much rather have taken Flora with her, of course, but Miss Keller said that was out of the question. So Emily had no choice, and really, when you stopped to think of it, Flora would be happier growing up in the country, rather than the city. But London—well, London was Emily’s dearest dream. London, and the blue velvet dress that Miss Keller had mentioned, and the smart blue boots that would go with the dress, and the white fur muff. Oh, such joy!

  But Mrs. Graham had let her down, just like the gypsy lad. The City seemed as far away as the moon, and the dress, boots, and muff might as well be on Mars. Emily felt terribly betrayed, as you would, too, I daresay, if you had your heart set on going to London and learnt, at the very last minute, that you could not go.

  So I’m sure you can understand why Emily was crying. Miss Keller had already left for London, and was expecting her. Mrs. Hawker, the cook, had gone away, too, to take care of her sister. Mrs. Hawker was deaf as a doorpost and could not be counted on for ordinary conversation, but at least she had been another presence in the house. Deirdre Malone hadn’t dropped in lately, either. Deirdre was too young to be a true confidante, but she had been a willing listener, even if Emily couldn’t tell her the whole truth.