"We find the defendant guilty as charged!" said the judge, as his hammer hit the desk in front of him with a determined thud. Marian Englesby was walked out of the courtroom accompanied by the sounds of jeering and waving of fists from the crowd. Hadn't she warned them? Hadn't she told them of what was about to transpire? No-one had taken heed of her warnings. No-one had listened, though they would.
Back at Dilberry House, Lady Foresham summoned her maid. Dressed in her night attire, Lady Foresham was tired. The day had wearied her. The gossip among the upper classes was rife and her husband's apathy appalled her. Why would they lock someone up for believing in things beyond our comprehension? she had demanded to know, though Robert had ignored her pleas. Lady Foresham lay in bed that evening and thought of the fortune teller's words. Surely someone would see that among the ill spoken words of a pauper lay some element of truth and substance. Surely someone would realize the error of their ways.
The light in the room dimmed as the moon crept across the sky. Robert had not listened to the words of Marian Englesby and would now suffer the consequences. Lady Foresham was eager to leave home before that happened, though knew not where to go. There would be scandal. There would be the pointing of fingers at her caused by the actions of her husband, just as indicated by Marian Englesby. Lady Foresham knew that among those words spoken on a July evening, there was an element of possibility, and this frightened her.
As morning brought daylight pouring into the room, Lady Foresham decided it was time to take action. Packing the items she would need for the trip, and walking down the corridor with her lady's maid, she made her way to the carriage, which was being prepared for her. She refused to be a part of a household which was going to be the subject of horrors such as declared by the fortune teller. Now that they had imprisoned Marian, there was no way to question her and to ascertain when these predictions would come to pass, and she needed to know.
The prison cells were barren. The stone walls echoed of emptiness and the occasional scream seemed to hit the silence with a harshness Lady Foresham had never encountered before. She is down here, said the prison warder, as they walked through corridor after corridor of cells, closed off from the world by small trap doors where food and communication was passed from prison warder to prisoner.
There in the darkness of her cell, Marian Englesby prayed. Lady Foresham was astounded to see the delicate hands clasped together in prayer. Did fortune tellers believe in God? Was she praying for the resolution of problems or for her own soul? As she and the warden entered the cell, the door creaked, and Marian turned. She knelt on the floor in front of a barren bed with a blanket patched at the edges with simple hand stitching. Marian looked towards Lady Foresham, a knowing smile of defiance in her eyes.
"When will it happen?" she asked. "I see you want to know now", scorned Marian. "Where were you when they laughed me out of court? Where were you when people called me a fraud?" Lady Foresham felt a chill, and a lump forming in her throat. "You told my husband about a great fire", she said. "I fear for our lives. I fear for my children" she added. Marian looked towards her with a small amount of pity. "It's all true", she said as she looked into the eyes of Lady Foresham. "The fire will come and will devour life as you know it. There will be a great scandal about its origin, and you will know what it feels like to be accused of something so vile that society will disown you."
The prison walls had ears. From the distance, Lady Foresham could hear the echoes of voices in the distance. Marian would give no more information, though determined to avoid such scandals, Lady Foresham left the prison, frown marks upon her face and her heart heavy. As she made her way towards home, Lady Foresham devised a plan which would take her and the children away from Dilberry House and the possibility of anything unforeseen happening. She believed with all her heart that the fortune teller knew of things beyond her own understanding and did not want to leave her future to chance.
Months passed into years and a kind of lull passed over Dilberry House. There was no news of Marian nor talk of the fire. Lady Foresham began to feel confident in her life, and although she had lived on the edge of fear, began to dismiss Marian's claims. The children had been sent away to boarding school just to ensure their safety, and Robert seemed settled and life simple and happy.
On a winter's morning, however, upon returning from a ride in the woodland alone, Lady Foresham saw the smoke which billowed from the house. From far up the hill it could be seen, and upon entering the driveway, it was apparent that the whole house was indeed in flames. Lady Foresham shuddered as she ushered the horse to go faster, taking her towards the devastation which was once her abode.
The newspapers said it was arson. There, on the front pages of the Times was an announcement which was to startle society and shock readers into the reality of a situation which had been long since predicted. The photographs which graced the front pages were of Lady Foresham, Marian Englesby and of Lord Foresham, and recounted the tale of jealousy and rage, anger and vengeance. The bodies of John and his lover, Marian were found among the cinders. Lady Foresham looked at the walls of her prison cell and knelt in prayer. Prayer would never be enough. She knew that she was not guilty, though who would believe her when all other facts pointed to her as the guilty party. Marian Englesby's predictions had indeed come true, and though the fortune teller may have been dead, though her legacy lived on.