Hauntings of Claverton Castle is one of my favorite novels that I’ve written. I might write many more stories about Samantha, Margot, and Roland, though lately I’ve mostly been working on contemporary fantasy and gothic fiction with protagonists in their thirties, forties, and fifties.
Chapter 1:
Chapter 65:
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Hauntings of Claverton Castle, Chapter 66
Barely touching Roland’s hand, Samantha leaped out of the Montmorency’s barouche without taking her eyes off Goblin Hall looming before her. They rode all night, and it was daylight now. The sprawling seventeenth-century manor house was much as Samantha remembered. She inhaled as though sucking in the turrets, cupolas, steep gables, assorted chimneys and dormer windows, many-paned bay windows, and the archways before the veranda. She didn’t, however, recall the autumnal red ivy covering a portion of the east wing, the goblin-like gargoyles, or the baroque filigree ornamentation throughout the facade.
“Breathtaking,” Samantha whispered. Roland smiled. Margot appeared from the other side of the carriage and took her hand, leading her toward the front entrance of Goblin Hall. “It is indescribably delightful to return.”
“Yes, I agree,” Roland said.
Margot’s lips twitched into a smile as she turned to Samantha. “As you may recall, we have an excellent music room. You will want for nothing here, but you could begin performing music for a living.”
Samantha froze and widened her eyes at Margot, whose smile grew. Samantha grinned back and grasped her hand. They all three crossed the manicured lawn in silence, and Samantha gazed in awe. She didn’t quite believe she was awake.
#
Margot, Roland, their father Sir Bryant Gibraldon, and Samantha were gathered around a fireplace in the drawing room a week after Samantha transferred her place of residence from Claverton Castle to Goblin Hall. It was mid-afternoon, and the crackling and popping of the fire was quieter than the rain steadily falling outside the tall, many-paned windows.
Samantha looked up from the book in her lap and smiled blissfully. “I cannot express sufficiently how grateful I am that Lord Percy’s parents have agreed to be my patrons.”
“Hmm, I believe the Marchioness’s words were, ‘We shall be most happy to be your patrons.’ And the Marquis… what did he say, Roland?”
Roland stretched his legs toward the fire, looked up from his book, and smiled. “He said it would be an honor.”
Sir Bryant chuckled. “I have been listening to you play daily, Miss Ponsonby, and it does not astound me in the least that they have taken you on. I declare you a musical genius.”
Samantha felt her cheeks burn, but she smiled. “I would not go so far as to say that, Sir Bryant, but thank you very much.”
Margot and Roland agreed with their father, whilst Samantha gazed at the fire and recalled the previous evening, where she had performed at a pianoforte on the newly painted stage of the opera house now sponsored by Percy’s parents, Callandra Davincott and Roderick Montmorency. At the end of her performance, she stood and curtseyed. Raising her eyes, she noticed that many of the audience members were translucent. Though deceased, they clapped as enthusiastically as the living members of the audience. Considering the volume of the clapping, Samantha realized she couldn’t only see but hear the phantoms.
Margot smiled at Samantha. “Now that you have vividly seen ghosts far away from Claverton Castle, are you glad or disappointed your powers have remained strong?”
Samantha blinked at Margot and wondered if she’d read her thoughts. “Oh, I find it quite fortuitous.” She shifted her position, and her book slipped out of her hand.
Margot smiled. “I thought you might see it that way.”
Roland gazed at the floor. “Some consider such powers a curse rather than a blessing.”
Samantha shook her head and gazed at the hearth. “Mr. Prendregast was so proud of his family.” She sipped from her teacup. “I cannot quite comprehend it.”
“He was surely trained by his parents, perhaps aunts and uncles,” Roland said.
“Trained? To do what?” Samantha asked.
Margot closed the book in her hand. “Trained to be under their thumb, to be loyal to the family.”
“To worship his elders, you might say,” Roland added.
Sir Bryant shook his head. “Such folly. Don’t ever worship me, children.”
Roland peered at his father and cocked his head for a moment. “I fear it is too late to admonish us about that, Father.”
Sir Bryant scoffed. “Alas! With that thought, it is time I retire.” Sir Bryant rose and exchanged good nights with the young people before sauntering out of the room.
Margot sat back. “It is not unusual to worship one’s elders and ancestors. Parents are generally influential.”
Samantha gazed at the fire. “I vaguely recall my mother and father talking with admiration about their parents. They always spoke in the past tense, for as long as I can remember. Yet I carried a strange sense that my father’s parents remained alive yet estranged from him.”
Margot gasped as though remembering something important. She rose from her armchair and moved so silently that Samantha only heard the crackling fire. Margot was next to her, hip to hip, on the sofa. She wrapped her arm around Samantha’s shoulder.
Margot whispered into her ear. “I met your grandparents. They were looking for you.”
Samantha widened her eyes. “What. How.”
“It was after your aunt and uncle took you away.”
“Why did you not tell me? All these twelvemonths.”
Margot bit her lip. “They did not say who they were or where they might be reached. It only now occurred to me who they must have been.”
They sat in silence and listened to the fire and an abrupt downpour of rain. Envisioning her grandparents crossing the orchard from Thyme Cottage to Goblin Hall, Samantha leaned toward Margot and rested her head on her shoulder again.
“From what the ghosts said,” Roland said, “I understand that Mr. Prendregast had no idea, when he was a child, that some of his cousins were… well, victims of that unspeakable crime.”
“Unspeakable?” Samantha said. “It must be spoken, I fear, for the sake of the victims.”
“His sister committed suicide when she was eight years old,” Margot whispered. “It is no wonder he was such a wreck concerning the supernatural.”
“Yes, I see what you mean,” Samantha whispered.
“He had no idea why,” Roland said. “Those ‘elders’ kept him in the dark about the truth of his family, and he could not cope with Gertrude’s situation.”
Margot said, “Mr. Prendregast began as a powerful Sensitive but chose to suppress his abilities. Perhaps that is why he became so obsessed with genealogy: subconsciously he was seeking the information that he had lost about his family, even as that information was forbidden and he was blocking it out.”
Samantha peered up at Margot. “How would one be equipped to suppress the power to sense ghosts?”
“Another Sensitive might have hypnotized him,” Margot said.
Samantha grasped the sofa arm. “Imagine knowing such things about your family, and everyone conspiring to keep quiet about it.” Her teacup and saucer sat forgotten on the small round table beside her. “It makes me wonder about other families, supposedly perfect families.”
Roland nodded and closed his sketchbook. “Would you like me to read to you?”
“Yes.” Samantha smiled and picked her embroidery. “I suppose as soon as tomorrow you two may run off to banish demons or console family ghosts. I shall enjoy your company when I can.”
Margot glanced over at her brother and reached for a project she’d been working on. “Tomorrow it is ghosts at the Queen’s Palace.”
Samantha gasped. “The Queen’s Palace! Do you think you’ll meet the queen?”
Margot smiled. “It is possible.”
Roland shifted position. “Whilst we are in London, there is the matter of the mansion we are redecorating. At least one of us must return to London soon and supervise the progress.”
“I could do that on my own,” Margot said.
Roland gazed into the fire. “In light of what we learned about the Prendergast family's past, I believe the communal home for the poor should be exclusively for women and children.”
Margot rose from her seat and turned to Roland with shining eyes. “Splendid idea.”
Samantha looked wide-eyed from Roland to Margot and back. “It is true, what a gossip said—that you two bought an abandoned building and intend to house poor people. The gossip disapproved, but I think it laudable.”
Both twins blushed at this praise. Roland cast his eyes down, but Margot had the presence of mind to smile coyly at Samantha and say, “Well. Thank-you. I fear I am rather distracted by thoughts of decorating this communal house. It may sound more charitable to you, but I enjoy redecorating.” She left the room, murmuring her excuses.
Roland shifted in his armchair. “Do you remember what I told you about my feelings for Percy? I have yet to tell anyone else. But the absence of lust seems to be a common trait in our family.”
“It is a wonder your family has not died out.” Samantha smiled faintly.
“I have considered that. Regarding Percy, it is a drawback.”
“Percy’s inclinations are not unusual, though not everyone has the luxury of following their heart.”
Roland nodded. “People who are not attracted to the opposite sex often marry anyway and have affairs. It seems to be half the scandal of high society.” He glanced at Samantha before returning his gaze to the fire. “It is only a matter of time before Percy marries a woman, if nothing else to please his parents. I am certain he would desire a rather more physical relationship than I would. It is all dreadfully muddled, I fear.”
“It certainly isn’t as simple as falling in love, marrying, and living happily ever after. But you say that your lack of lust runs in your family. Is Margot like this, too?”
“Until now, she seemed that way. You are the first person toward whom Margot has set her cap.”
Samantha felt a flutter in her chest. “I am beginning to realize that real life is so much more complicated than novels.”
Roland raised an eyebrow. “Yes, indeed. Speaking of novels, I do not feel like reading to you, after all. I think I shall go to the music room and practice on the pianoforte.” He rose. “Do excuse me.”
Samantha rose and curtseyed in response to his bow. She smiled as he slipped out of the drawing room, for it occurred to her that formalities such as curtseying and bowing seemed out of keeping with her residing at Goblin Hall as though she were Roland’s sister.
She felt a buzzing euphoria, as Roland’s words kept running through her head. Margot had set her cap at her. Margot was in love with her! Samantha sank back onto the sofa and picked up her sketchbook from a small table.
She was surprised to hear the door open again. She looked up and beheld Margot. In minutes, they were seated across from each other, Samantha sketching and Margot reading a book.
Whilst Samantha drew ghosts in her drawing pad, she heard a rustle of clothing—Margot shifted and rose out of her chair. She padded across the rug to a cabinet of beverages and creaked open cupboards, rattled and chinked bottles and glasses, and poured a drink. Samantha looked up from her sketchpad and saw Margot looking at her.
Seeing Margot standing before her with a bewitching smile, Samantha impulsively crossed the room. She stood before Margot and took both her hands. Standing on tiptoe, Samantha stretched up and placed a soft kiss on Margot's full lips.
She stepped back and observed the wide-eyed astonishment on Margot's face. Samantha wondered if she’d overstepped and embarrassment froze her in place. She loosened her hold on Margot's hands... but noticed that Margot’s cheeks were red.
As Samantha began to step back and release Margot’s hands, she had the strangest sensation of Margot tightening her hold and pulling her forward. She scarcely had time to blink before they stood in a tight embrace.
Margot whispered, “I suppose you are the only one who did not know that I return your affections.”
“Oh. Oh, dear, I hope nobody knew... well, save Roland and Harriet. I have informed them both.”
“I do not mind in the least.”
Samantha heard a scratching at the door. She started and hastily stepped away from Margot, before a parlor maid entered with something small, rectangular, and white on a silver salver. “A letter for Miss Ponsonby.”
Samantha raised her eyebrows and removed the letter from the salver. The seal was pink and featured what looked distinctly like the Prendregast coat of arms. “It is from Harriet, I do believe.” Samantha cracked the seal open and unfolded the missive, whilst Margot stood nearby with her hands in her pockets. Her relaxed posture didn’t fool Samantha; she sensed Margot’s curiosity.
Samantha recognized Harriet’s familiar, loopy and sprawling handwriting. It hadn’t altered since they completed boarding school.
“What is this letter, may I ask?” Margot asked.
Samantha looked up and smiled. “Harriet is engaged to marry Darius Lombard, the Viscount of Mistborough. She has invited all of us to the wedding!” Samantha hopped up and down and clutched the invitation to her bosom.
“How delightful,” Margot said. “We shall most certainly attend. But for now, we must talk to ghosts at the Queen’s House. So much for our restful reprieve. Would you care to accompany Roland and me?”
Samantha gasped and clapped her hands. “Do you truly mean that?”
“Yes.” Margot stepped forward, reached out, and gently held both Samantha’s hands. She carefully, slowly, intertwined her fingers with Samantha’s. The latter looked up at her through her eyelashes.
“My Sensitive powers are not so strong as yours or Roland’s.”
Margot stepped a smidgeon closer without taking her eyes off Samantha, who gulped and raised her eyebrows. Margot smiled. “Your powers are strong enough, and I am certain you wish to make them useful. You needn’t become our regular colleague—I realize your music is very important to you—but you are welcome to work with ghosts and see how you succeed.”
Margot took another step closer. Samantha looked up at her with a trembling smile. “Thank you so much for inviting me. I shall indeed accompany you.”
By the time Samantha finished this sentence, Margot stepped very close to her and folded her in an embrace. Neither hurried to pull themselves apart.
Roland burst into the room and scarcely looked at the girls as they hastily stepped away from each other and straightened their clothes. He paced back and forth in front of the fireplace. “As I thought. We must away to banish another demon.”
Margot raised her eyebrows. “I suppose the ghosts at the Queen’s Palace can wait one day.”
Roland turned and looked at Samantha. “Samantha, you are welcome to accompany us.”
“Thank you!” Samantha dashed toward the door but after only a few steps swirled around. “Need I bring anything special?”
“No, not at all. Let us away now!” Roland darted out the door.
“Bonnets and spencers,” Margot said. “We mustn’t forget them.”
Samantha smiled and bounded off to fetch such garments whilst her head spun with the prospect of helping the Montmorency twins banish demons, save the innocent from vampires, and mollify malignant ancestral specters. Slipping into her spencer, Samantha admitted to herself that she’d be more competent when confronting ghosts rather than demons or vampires, but she was delighted that she hadn’t lost her increased Sensitive powers.
The End