The Effects of Henry's Cage. Elean's Story. (A dramatic Love Story.) Book one.

By Bernadette Joyce

Elean Cameron makes a life changing decision and becomes companion to Caroline Roseville and tutor to her three children. They are crossing the globe, leaving Scotland for New Zealand. Little does she know that Caroline's husband, Henry, disillusioned as a young child, has built a cage around his feelings, a cage of resentment, deceit, lies and bitterness. Soon she will be trapped in this terrifying cage. Alone in a strange country she discovers she must find the strength to help herself and escape that cage.
The effects of Henry's Cage unfold at a time when early settlers sought to make a new life for themselves in the colonies. Dunedin, set in the province of Otago, on the East Coast of the South Island of New Zealand, is an example of what the settlers came to and what they could achieve in a few years. Dunedin was fifteen years old when Henry arrived in 1863. It was the time of the Otago Gold Rush. His wife Caroline, his three children and Elean Cameron, arrived seven years later, at a time when Maori who had fought in the North Island Land Wars, had been captured and sent to Dunedin Prison. Both these events and many more play a part in the story. This is a book of adventure, drama, friendship and romance.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Bernadette Joyce
• Release date: Oct 30, 2016
• ISBN: 9781370695928

Bernadette Joyce

I love books. I love reading. I love history. I had a dream that one day I would write a novel. One wet cold afternoon, I started, the words came and I was on my way. The Effects of Henrys Cage. Elean Story. (Book one) was born. (Book two) Roberta Story is near completion. My dream fulfilled, had opened the door to the pleasure of writing.

Book preview

The Effects of HENRY’S CAGE

Book One: Elean’s Story

Bernadette Joyce

Copyright © 2015 Bernadette Joyce

All rights reserved.

ISBN: 978-0-473-33200-6

DEDICATION

To my daughter Sandra.

CONTENTS

Title

Dedication

Contents

Note

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Author’s Note

Glossary of Maori Words

Acknowledgement

NOTE

The characters in this book are fictitious, any similarity to real persons living or deceased, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

Chapter One

Elean dipped her pen into the inkwell. Images flowed through her mind as she started to write.

Glasgow Boarding House,

156 Princes Street,

Glasgow.

11th August 1870.

Dearest Papa,

What shall I do? I applied for a companion and tutor position to-day. There’s very little on offer. It is with a Mrs Roseville and her three children who are travelling to Dunedin in New Zealand. She is joining her husband Henry Roseville who has been in the colonies since 1863. He has a sheep-run up country, but has purchased a house in Dunedin for his family because life up on the run is too harsh. It would be for two years, including the three months for the voyage. Two years Papa. What shall I do? I wouldn’t see Mama in all that time. I know I promised not to take a position without discussing it with you first, but there is very little time. How I wish you were here to give me reassurance. Part of me wants to go, but then I think of Mama and my heart sinks. New Zealand is so far away but if you needed me, I could return on a steam-ship. It is much quicker but very expensive.

If I go we would leave on the ship ‘Creath’ in nine days’ time. The ship is chartered by the Free Church of Scotland. Dunedin was established as a Scottish settlement, but I understand since the gold rush the mix has changed. It’s on the east coast of the South Island, situated at the southern end. Tell Mama I wouldn’t be near Rosemary. When it’s time for me to come home, I would most certainly pay them a visit. Hear me Papa, I sound as if I’m going.

I think I will get along with Mrs Roseville. She is like a frightened brown mouse. She keeps referring to her husband as Henry and then becomes flustered and corrects herself, calling him Mr Roseville. She appears to be in awe of him, but never the less there’s something very pleasing about her. She is petite, with wavy brown hair, soft brown eyes that looked at me pleading for me to say yes. The two girls are both alike. Charlotte age is seven, and Helen is ten. They have reddish hair, hazel eyes, very bonnie with heaps of energy. Whereas William, aged eight is like his mother. He is slightly built, and very timid compared to his boisterous sisters.

I know I promised to discuss this with you before I made any decisions, but there is no time.

I must sleep now and will write again tomorrow.

***

Dear Papa, Mrs Roseville seemed so vulnerable that my heart went out to her, and the predicament she finds herself in. I accepted the position.

I’m to be given unlimited funds to buy journals, slates, books, drawing paper and all I shall need. There is a generous salary, clothing allowance and my fare, cabin class, paid both ways. What concerns me and made me hesitate is a clause, that if I’m dismissed through no fault of my own, I’m to receive, unconditionally, the sum of two hundred pounds. All that money Papa. When I asked why, all the solicitor said was that Mrs Roseville’s solicitor insisted that the clause be put in. All I can deduce from this is that it’s very unlikely I’ll stay the two years.

Mrs Roseville was so pleased with my acceptance that she invited me to stay for supper. It was a happy occasion. Mrs Roseville relaxed. The children, excited, crowded around me, all wanting to tell me things they thought I should know. After supper she said, ‘I note that you play the piano.’ She asked me to play. I felt I couldn’t refuse. I played my best, trying to impress. Then Mrs Roseville played and sang with the children. They are a gifted family and we had a very merry time. Mrs Roseville seemed to come alive when she played. But once the music was over she became the timid brown mouse again. I am to call her Mrs Roseville, and the children are to call me Miss Cameron. How I hate formality but once again, Henry would like it that way. Oh dear, I must stop referring to Mr Roseville as Henry. Next I’ll forget myself and let his name slip. I’m tired, so I’ll finish this letter and get it in the post. How happy I am to hear that the doctor says Mama is showing signs of improvement. Give her my love. I think about her every day, and you too Papa.

Your loving daughter, Elean.

As Robert put the letter down on the small table beside his chair, he thought, my two daughters in the colonies, it was bad enough with Rosemary so far away, but now Elean. He lifted his glasses, found his handkerchief and wiped his eyes. The fire had died down, so he put another log on, before he tiptoed back into his chair. His thoughts returned to his wife and how best to tell her. Must I tell? It has only been now, after eighteen months that there has been some improvement in the melancholy brought on by Rosemary’s departure. He sighed. He looked over at her. She was asleep on the couch. Rising to his feet he went and gently shook her.

She shrugged him off, then spoke in a dreary voice. Leave me alone, let me sleep.

Mary, you know what the doctor said. You mustn’t sleep for any more than an hour in the daytime. He spoke firmly, as that was the only thing she responded to.

He helped her into a sitting position. Mary, I’ve had a letter from Elean, there is something I must tell you.

Gaunt, pale, with her untidy lifeless hair limp around her slumping shoulders, his wife glared at him.

Elean has accepted a position with a Mrs Roseville as a companion and tutor.

Mary interrupted. Well, that should make you happy, that’s what you wanted when you sent her away.

You know it was for the best, you saw how unhappy she was. I didn’t have my daughters educated for them to spend their life in servitude, and that’s what it would have been for Elean if she stayed in this house.

Looking after her mother, is that servitude? Any caring daughter would only be too pleased to do her duty.

Robert reached over taking her hands into his. Mary immediately made him let go. You wouldn’t stop Rosemary from going and now this. To think Rosemary went through her pregnancy without her mother. And Bertie, our first grandchild, we don’t even get to see him.

Don’t upset yourself, you know they’ve promised to come and see us. What with steam ships reducing the time of travel, I feel sure that they could come quite soon.

Even though Mary relaxed a little, the resentment still showed. She muttered as she picked up her crochet. I suppose, I should be grateful that Elean is not so far away.

Robert gently took the crochet from her and laid it on the table. This time he took her hands, holding them firmly. Mary, there is more. Elean is going to New Zealand for two years.

Mary froze, she did not answer, her eyes showed contempt.

Robert slunk back to his chair. Try as he might, he couldn’t put thoughts of Mary out of his mind. He constantly blamed himself for thinking he could take a delicate English rose and plant her in the highlands. It was the birth of their two daughters that helped Mary to settle down. Rosemary, so like her mother, the classical English rose, with pale gold wavy hair creating a halo around her perfectly formed features. Whereas Elean was tall, her smile too wide, her only redeeming feature an abundance of chestnut hair. The girls were opposite in looks and opposite in nature. Robert heaved a sigh. If only Elean had been a boy.

Once more, he turned his attention to the letter. He felt something wasn’t quite right, so he skimmed through the letter trying to find out what it was that disturbed him. That’s it, the money. It’s a disincentive for the Rosevilles to dismiss her, after all, who would easily part with such a large sum? I wonder why? He checked the letter again, trying to find clues, noting that Charlotte was born in 1863, the same year that Henry went to New Zealand. What kind of man would leave a wife, who was about to, or had just given birth? Why did he not return? He leaned back, staring into space. I don’t like it. He continued to ponder. If things are not right, she must understand she is to take the next ship home. He reached for the bell, yanking so quickly and hard, he nearly broke the cord.

Mary, I must go to Elean, I feel something is wrong. She may need money for her return fare. The Rosevilles may go back on their word if she tries to leave.

Mary muttered, not fully understanding. Yes, you would go chasing after her, but you wouldn’t stop Rosemary when I asked you to.

Is that all you can think about? Robert snapped. A married woman has a duty to be with her husband. How could Rosemary stay in Scotland?

Agnes knocked on the door.

Come in, called Robert. Agnes, I need to go to Elean, I haven’t much time. Will you please look after Mary for me? If you find it’s too much, ask Janet from the Glen to give you a hand.

He heard his wife mutter. Elean, always Elean, you’d go dashing after her, when you should’ve stopped Rosemary from leaving.

Ignoring her he bent down, picked up the letter from the table, and then headed towards the door.

Surely, you’re not planning to leave now? Agnes looked concerned.

I have to, if I hope to get there before the ship sails.

It would be foolish to leave, sir. It’s almost dark and the sky has clouded over so there’s no moonlight. After all the rain, there could be slips on the roads. Best if you leave in the morning.

Robert stopped in his tracks. Oh goodness me, he scratched his head, you know, you’re right as usual, Agnes. I’ll go in the morning.

Chapter Two

Elean tossed and turned. The smell of the musty room mingled with the camphor on the sheets was unbearable. She slid out of bed, wincing as she placed her feet on the cold wooden floor. She wrapped her shawl around, and slipped her feet into slippers, then lifted the lamp from the dresser, holding the light high to check that Helen and Charlotte were asleep. She crept towards the door and opened it carefully. Silently, she moved out onto the landing. She turned up the wick and made her way downstairs by lamp light.

At dinner, she had noticed a door from the guest house dining room that led to a small garden. She placed the lamp on a table by the door, and went to see if it would open. To her delight, the key had been left in the lock. As she stepped outside, the chilly night air sent shivers through her body, but still she looked up at the night sky, appreciating the feeling of freedom it gave. Overcome by emotion, she clutched the shawl to her mouth to muffle the sobs that escaped her lips. The tears poured down her cheeks, as she gave way to pent up feelings.

What have I done? What was I thinking of? If I could only have talked to Papa when I made the decision, well, it’s too late now. Mama is right. I am selfish. I should have thought it through properly, and not got carried away with the excitement of exploring New Zealand. I wonder how Mama will accept me leaving. I don’t suppose she’ll take to her bed like she did when Rosemary left. Poor Papa, I should have thought of how it will be for him without me near. But I need not have any qualms about leaving Mama. After all, she never wanted me. It was always Rosemary. I couldn’t do anything right in her eyes. Was it my looks? Or because I preferred to walk the Glen, than spend hours looking over the fashion magazines, while she prattled on about the parties and balls she had attended.

She mopped up the tears with the end of her shawl and sniffed.

I’m tired of being compared unfavourably with Rosemary. Do they think I have no feelings? Not to include me in Rosemary’s wedding party I could accept. But I do not accept Mama telling everyone I’m too tall and I walk as if I’m behind a plough.

Her tears flowed again.

Lucky Rosemary. Her husband, Albert, is everything I think a man should be. I really enjoyed the times we had together discussing politics, putting the world to right and he even had sympathy for the role of women in society. Now that Albert and his brother Frederick have come into our family, I’ve changed. I want to be loved. I want to feel needed. I want to be held in a tender embrace. I want that special someone in my life.

Elean found it too painful to dwell on these thoughts anymore. She pulled her shawl tighter around her trembling body and walked up and down the narrow pathway. The moon, hidden by tall trees, made its presence felt flickering light through the leaves.

Rosemary surprised me. I noticed that special look Albert and Rosemary have for each other, of course, that’s what I’d expect when you’re in love. But the day I came across them unexpectedly I decided, what I saw, I should keep to myself. Somehow it excited me. They were embracing and kissing. He kissed her mouth then planted little kisses down her neck until he was hungrily kissing her bare skin almost down to the swelling of her breasts. I know I should have looked away, but I couldn’t. He held her so close that I wondered how Rosemary was able to breathe. At other times his hands circled her back, touching places, I knew to be improper. But it was the look in his eyes. The love was still there, but it was something new, a look of desire, devouring her as if he wanted more. I had the urge to yell out and tell him to stop. But Rosemary was just as ardent as Albert. I wonder what it would be like if they were both naked. Oh goodness me, what am I thinking. I must stop this. Have I gone completely mad?

Elean paced up and down. She tried to remember if there was anything she’d forgotten that was needed for their voyage.

Papa, how I miss the talks we had together. There has been no one in my life that means as much to me as he does. I wish he was here, I do need his wisdom. I feel so empty inside.

I hope Mrs Roseville will be a friend, but she keeps her distance. The children are fine, only they never stop talking. Perhaps I’m being unfair. It must be hard for her as the children come to me for everything. You’d think I was their mother. I will enjoy tutoring the children, so perhaps that is something to look forward to.

Looking up at the night sky, she drew on its glory to calm herself. The chill in the air slowly invaded her body, bringing her to her senses. Words of regret fell from her lips.

If only I’d kept my promise to Papa before I made the decision. He’s right, I am impetuous. I should’ve taken time to analyse my actions. What have I done? There’s no turning back. I can’t let the Rosevilles down now.

Tears threatened again, so she hurriedly turned and went indoors.

***

Caroline Roseville stared at the ever changing patterns on the ceiling generated by the flickering from the fire. Desperate for sleep to swallow her up, she tried to relax, but thoughts raced through her mind. Try as she might, she couldn’t chase away her fears. It had seemed so right before but now, on the eve of their boarding the ship, all her doubts loomed large.

What if I’m wrong and they’re right about Henry?

She climbed out of bed, careful not to wake William who lay sleeping beside her. She went in search of her dressing gown. With difficulty she manoeuvred around the room, because the dresser was jammed between the window and the bed, and the chair by the fire pressed hard against the bed end.

Caroline searched through her bag until she found Henry’s letters. She sat by the fire and used its light, as she read each one slowly.

He does love me, I know he does. How could he write in such a tone if he didn’t?

Her fears made her scan each line trying to find some cause for doubt. There wasn’t any. Yet, she still couldn’t stop worrying.

I can’t understand why Papa and Aunt Helen wouldn’t discuss it with me. How could they? Yet they lied to me. Gambling debts they said, yet Papa had always looked after them before. Henry says it was because they did not want me to have any more children, so why couldn’t they just tell me the truth. I hadn’t heard from Henry for nearly seven years, yet he declared he did write. Did they hide the letters; was that another one of their deceits?

She nestled back in her chair, closed her eyes and remembered the day they told her Henry wouldn’t be coming back.

It was autumn, the time of year when the leaves are at their brightest. I stood at the window weeping. That day the colours were blurred. Papa appeared at my side. I have never known him to be so angry. He took me by the arms, shook me aggressively until I looked into his eyes. He’s not coming back, he yelled, pull yourself together, the children need their mother. I’ll not have that man’s name mentioned in my house again. Why Papa, why do these feelings haunt me. If only we could have talked, but now you have gone, it’s too late to put it right between us. If only my mother hadn’t died when I was young, she would’ve understood. Henry said, ‘Aunt Helen’s an old spinster, she hasn’t got a man and she doesn’t want you to have one.’

Tears made their way down her cheeks; she used the sleeve of her gown to wipe them away. The room had cooled. Angry at the inadequate supply of wood, she got up to find her shawl and handkerchief. She spread the shawl over her knees.

She shuddered as memories of the gathering after Aunt Helen’s funeral came to mind. The women in black their faces grim and the men in suits, spoke in hushed voices about Aunt Helen’s devotion to her brother. They rolled their eyes, hints about Caroline, insinuations about Henry, and the burden of caring for three children. They understood why she didn’t want to live.

How cruel, didn’t they understand? We were alone, no Papa and now Aunt Helen. I wanted to scream at them and tell them to leave, but I lacked the courage. I’m glad Miss Cameron has agreed to come with us. I can see she is a strong woman. I could tell by her organising skills that she wouldn’t be afraid to stand for herself.

Why is everyone against Henry? I can’t understand it. When I went to my solicitor and told him of my plans he was apoplectic. His face turned bright purple. He paced up and down wringing his hands together, muttering to himself. I had to fetch the clerk to settle him down. Even then he kept muttering. He ordered me not to go. I suppose that is why I’m unsettled now, but if there was something that was so bad, why not tell me. I’m not a child anymore.

Her shawl slipped, she retrieved it and once more she spread it over her knees.

I’m sure Henry is right. It is his half-brother James that has caused all the trouble. He visited Papa often. They spent a lot of time together in the library. I suspected there was something going on, but when I asked Papa he wouldn’t tell me. Henry said James hatched up a plan, spread stories, making it that he had no choice but to go to the colonies. What an evil little man James is. Isn’t he content with all of his father’s estates? It’s wrong that only the eldest son inherits, poor Henry, left to fend for himself. Anyway, it has worked out for the best, a sheep run, a house in Dunedin, he would never have achieved so much if he had stayed in England.

A door closed. Caroline listened. Under the door in her room a sliver of light appeared, then disappeared. She arose and went to the door, opened it, and stepped out on to the landing. Surprised, she saw Miss Cameron creeping down the stairs.

She shouldn’t be long. I’ll wait and check that she’s all right.

The fire, only a flicker, added no warmth to the room. Caroline stood by the door shivering; the shawl around her wasn’t enough to keep her warm. The longer she waited, the angrier she became.

It’s just as well I’m watching, as she’d no right leaving the girls. She needs put in her place.

Caroline knew what she must do, but could she muster up enough courage to confront her?

But this is different. My children are involved. If I let her away with this, I’ll be making a rod for my back.

Thoughts of Aunt Helen entered her head. She put her hand up, wiped away the tears that gathered in her puffy red eyes. The cold forgotten, she repeated over and over again the words of reprimand she’d prepared in her mind.

I really liked Miss Cameron when she first came, but she’s proved to be moody, and now this. I don’t know how I’ll cope when cooped up with her in the cabin.

A light appeared, and then slowly ascended the stairs. Caroline opened the door wide and moved out onto the landing, her words of reprimand on her lips. The light of the lamp lit up their faces. Their eyes locked. Caroline opened her mouth, but the words died. Miss Cameron, recovered first, put out her hand and touched her arm. It’s all right, it will be fine once we sail. It’s just the thought of venturing into the unknown.

Caroline managed a weak smile.

Yes, you’re right; it will be fine, once we’re on our way.

Chapter Three

The children exchanged worried glances as they sat around the breakfast table. Their mother often had red puffy eyes, but they didn’t expect this could happen to Miss Cameron. No warm greeting, just a nod of recognition. They looked down at their mound of gluey, lumpy oatmeal, dumped in their plate by a sour faced woman who had trouble getting it out of the pot. They wondered what else could happen to spoil their day. William picked up his spoon and started patting the top hoping it would reduce in size. Helen screwed up her face, asked if she could have sugar, which was refused. Charlotte stared glumly at her plate. Mrs Roseville,