The Mistress of Shenstone
Florence Barclay
Historical Romance
Published 1910
Synopsis
The Mistress of Shenstone centers on Lady Myra Ingleby, a sensitive and introspective woman coping with the emotional strain of her husband’s long absence during wartime. Living in the grand yet lonely Shenstone Park in the English countryside, she finds companionship only in her anxious little dog, Peter, and the occasional visit from her doctor, whose compassionate telegrams punctuate her solitude. The story unfolds as Myra confronts grief, uncertainty, and the burdens of social expectation, revealing her inner conflict between loyalty to her husband and her yearning for emotional connection with her doctor. Myra’s long periods of loneliness expose the fragility of her marriage and her longing for deeper fulfillment.
Novel Excerpt
The ruddy glow of a crimson sunset illumined cliff and hamlet, tinting the distant ocean into every shade of golden glory, as Myra walked up the gravelled path to the rustic porch of the Moorhead Inn, and looked around her with a growing sense of excited refreshment.
She had come on foot from the little wayside station, her luggage following in a barrow; and this mode of progression, minus a footman and maid, and carrying her own cloak, umbrella, and travelling-bag, was in itself a charming novelty.
At the door, she was received by the proprietress, a stately lady in black satin, wearing a double row of large jet beads, who reminded her instantly of all Lord Ingleby’s maiden aunts. She seemed an accentuated, dignified, concentrated embodiment of them all; and Myra longed for Billy, to share the joke.
“Aunt Ingleby” requested Mrs. O’Mara to walk in, and hoped she had had a pleasant journey. Then she rang a very loud bell twice, in order to summon a maid to show her to her room; and, the maid not appearing at once, requested Mrs. O’Mara meanwhile to write her name in the visitors’ book.
Lady Ingleby walked into the hall, passing a smoking-room on the left, and, noting a door, with “Coffee Room” upon it in gold lettering, down a short passage immediately opposite. Up from the centre of the hall, on her right, went the rather wide old-fashioned staircase; and opposite to it, against the wall, between the smoking-room and a door labelled “Reception Room,” stood a marble-topped table. Lying open upon this table was a ponderous visitors’ book. A fresh page had been recently commenced, as yet only containing four names. The first three were dated May the 8th, and read, in crabbed precise writing:
Miss Amelia Murgatroyd, Miss Eliza Murgatroyd, Miss Susannah Murgatroyd ….. Lawn View, Putney.
Below these, bearing date a week later, in small precise writing of unmistakable character and clearness, the name:
Jim Airth ….. London.
Pen and ink lay ready, and, without troubling to remove her glove, Lady Ingleby wrote beneath, in large, somewhat sprawling, handwriting:
Mrs. O’Mara ….. The Lodge, Shenstone.
A maid appeared, took her cloak and bag, and preceded her up the stairs.
As she reached the turn of the staircase, Lady Ingleby paused, and looked back into the hall.
The door of the smoking-room opened, and a very tall man came out, taking a pipe from the pocket of his loose Norfolk jacket. As he strolled into the hall, his face reminded her of Ronnie’s, deep-bronzed and thin; only it was an older face—strong, rugged, purposeful. The heavy brown moustache could not hide the massive cut of chin and jaw.