Tension and spookiness abound….
Chapter 1:
Chapter 53:
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Hauntings of Claverton Castle, Chapter 54
Margot raised an eyebrow. “Gertrude and deepest secrets appear to commingle.”
Reflecting on Gertrude’s prying into Ewen’s deepest secret and nearly revealing Roland’s, Margot felt relieved that her brother wasn’t dwelling on Percy, at least not enough to distract him from ghosts. She figured Roland had reason to panic like Gwydion Ewen. Percy had proposed to her, and she’d declined with no regrets. Not only was she not in love with him; she believed a life of demon and ghost hunting allowed little space for marriage. It struck her as peculiar that Percy directed his affections toward both her twin brother and her.
Harriet’s eyes were wide as saucers. Margot noticed, above the neckline of Harriet’s pale pink gown, a small, silver pentacle. Perhaps Harriet wisely chose that necklace as protection against malignant spirits the Montmorencys might unleash. Margot surmised it was unlikely that spirits would harm the family—but if they did, she would struggle to live with herself.
Margot cleared her throat. “Miss Prendregast, allow me to say that we shall not need your participation. It is best to have no non-Sensitives present whilst we commune with spirits.”
Harriet balled up her fists. “Well! I shall be in the drawing room if you change your minds.” She turned on her heel and threw the drawing room’s door open. Margot heard Mr. Prendregast’s muffled voice, whilst the door creaked shut.
Samantha stepped onto the bottom stair. “Allow me to show you the suite where I have been sleeping. Though you will wish to visit it again after full darkness.” The twins followed her.
Roland slipped out his pocket watch with a faint rattling of its chain. “Yes, I wish to see this ghost fully.” With a faint click, he popped open the watch. “It is almost that time. We have at most half an hour.”
Samantha glanced up the staircase before turning back to Margot. “I haven’t told you about the singular ghost in my dressing room.”
Margot raised an eyebrow. “What is this?”
“Wait till we reach my dressing room,” Samantha whispered. “I yearn for your reaction first.”
Ascending the staircase, their feet thudded on the carpet; Samantha noticed every creak of the floorboards. The Montmorencys followed her down the hallway to her rooms. She felt mildly squeamish about the propriety of showing Roland her dressing room and bedroom, but she mentally pooh-poohed herself. Margot would also be there.
They entered the dressing room, and Margot gasped. “We must indeed return after it is entirely dark.” Both she and Roland stopped in their tracks after only crossing the threshold.
Samantha stood in the center of the room waiting for an explanation and knitting her brow. The Montmorencys slowly stepped forward. Margot held out her hands before her, as though testing the air for energy. Floorboards creaked extraordinarily loudly, as though they wished to warn the veiled specter.
“Come, do tell.” Samantha crossed her arms. “I sense nothing now. What is happening?”
Roland said, “This dressing room and bedroom formerly belonged to the lady of the house. She was married to Mr. Prendregast.”
Samantha froze. “Harriet and Reginald’s mother?”
“Yes, precisely.” Roland stared unblinkingly toward the dressing table.
“Oh, fiddle!” Samantha said. “I daresay…. No doubt other women used this dressing room over the centuries.”
Margot turned. “Let us quit this room for now.”
They all entered the bedroom. Samantha hovered near the doorway. Roland wandered further into the room; he pointed a finger at a candelabra, and all six of its candles lit up. Samantha jumped. She stared back and forth between the candelabra and Roland, whose eyes were closed.
Margot, standing by the four-poster bed, inhaled sharply. “This is a very lovely and stylishly decorated room. But something is not right, something about its energy. Let us go out in the hallway.” Samantha didn’t hesitate to lead the way.
In the hallway, Roland snapped the door closed and turned to Margot.
Samantha exhaled. “What did you discover about her? She stared at them. “Did Mr. Prendregast murder his wife?”
Margot cast a piercing gaze on Samantha. “He is certainly unpleasant. But do you suspect him of such a horrible deed?”
Samantha gulped and felt her cheeks warm.
Roland edged closer to Samantha and lightly touched her elbow. “Perhaps you have been reading too many gothic novels.”
Samantha barked out a laugh, feeling foolish yet amused. “I am on a ghost hunt in a house full of troubled ghosts, but you think I read too many gothic novels?”
Roland smiled and reddened. “You do have a point.”
Samantha tilted her head sideways in thought. “Admittedly, it might well be Harriet’s influence. Gothic novels are all she reads.”
Roland raised an eyebrow. “Whilst ghosts surround her.”
“Forgive me.” Margot placed her hand on Samantha’s shoulder. The latter blinked and relaxed her shoulders. “I need not have spoken so harshly.”
Roland crossed his arms and glanced each way down the hallway. “Quite right. But about the ghost in the looking-glass….”
Margot withdrew her hand. “Very well. I shall tell you what I know so far.”
Samantha raised her eyebrows and grasped her hands together.
Margot closed her eyes. “The woman was very sensitive to cold, and she kept her bed curtains closed all year round. She would sit at her dressing table and groom herself—with some help from a maid—and she would walk from the dressing table, into the bedroom, and to the bed. I sense that she died in bed… but, strangely, not in this bed.”
Roland whispered, “She is watching us… with some hostility.”
Samantha sharply inhaled a breath and scanned her surroundings quickly. The hallway had wide wooden floorboards, dark paneled walls, and evenly spaced sconces supplying the only light. She saw no phantoms, but the hallway was uncharacteristically cold. She formed her mouth in a circle and blew out into the air—to see a puff of mist.
Roland held a palm out, as though testing the air. “Her husband was amiable enough before the marriage, but afterwards he became too biting, sarcastic, and negative for her liking.”
Margot’s eyes remained closed. “This was no love match. She became increasingly angry and unhappy in the marriage over time. She had somewhat back-stabbing methods of dealing with her husband.”
Roland crossed his arms again. “I cannot entirely blame her for that. Truly, I cannot blame her in the least.”
Samantha heard Mr. Prendregast grumbling in her head, so she raised her eyebrows and nodded.
“She was increasingly more unhappy,” Margot said, “and more unpleasant company.”
Roland added, “She was very pretty. Harriet has a striking resemblance to her.”
Samantha nodded. “I thought as much. I’ve started seeing her features behind the veil.”
“We shall discover more about her tonight,” Roland said.
Samantha bit her lip. “I cannot resist adding that Harriet would positively swoon if she heard you describe her as very pretty.”
Roland’s cheeks flushed. “Er. Well. Um. Quite.”