Haunted Happenings

by Lucrezia Black

  “Nah, it’s still in the car.” Stuart shrugged. His eyes were already travelling to the large portraits that lined the hallway of the second floor. “Who are all these people?”

  Charles smiled. The kids were a welcome distraction. Sure, they were hardly kids. He knew that they were both in their late teens, but it was nice to be able to put off socialising with the adults for a while. Sometimes it felt like all he did was put on a face, sip tea, and try to tune out all the drama.

  He’d grown up with it. He was used to it. But that didn’t mean that he had to enjoy it. He would much rather hide out in the study than be involved in whatever gatherings Amelia or his parents held.

  He was happy that Amelia was fitting in so well with his parents. He knew that it had been a bit of a struggle at first. He knew that she wasn’t really like them in any way, and that was why he’d married her. She was more down to earth. She was a wholesome person. But she was definitely good at putting on a face when she needed to. And she was good at playing the society game.

  He had needed that in a wife. He had needed someone who could handle the position that his family held. He had needed someone who would be genuine with him behind closed doors but always be able to put on a smile when the time came. He had found all of that in Amelia. He was head over heels in love with her, but that didn’t mean he wanted to engage in the socialising when he could avoid it.

  So he would hang out with Charlotte and Stuart instead. He would give them a bit of a history lesson, because it was something that he enjoyed and it would pass the time. And eventually he would show his face in the sitting room, hopefully just in time for the pre-dinner drinking to start.

  “It’s funny you should ask that, Stuart.” Charles led them over to the first and oldest portrait. “This is actually my reason for wanting to bring you up to the second floor. How much do you know about Ferguson Hall?”

  “Dad just told us it had been in your family a long time and that Amelia had recently redecorated,” Stuart said with a shrug.

  “Tsk tsk.” Charles shook his head. “That won’t do at all.”

  Charles pointed to the first portrait that had been commissioned and hand painted. “This is the original owner and builder of Ferguson Hall, Sir Cuthbert. He did just fine with the house for years and years until one unfortunate card game lost him the title to the house for about three generations to follow.”

  “He lost the house in a card game?” Charlotte looked at the man in the picture who looked the epitome of a respectable English gentleman. “He really doesn’t look the type.”

  “They never do.” Charles sent her a wink. “It’s the quiet ones that you’ve got to worry about.” He walked down to the next picture. “After the house fell into a bit of disrepair under the new family, it was gifted back to the Fergusons and came into the hands of Charles Ferguson the first. He’s my namesake, if you couldn’t guess.”

  “You look nothing like him,” Stuart observed, tilting his head at the rather rotund and red-faced man in the portrait.

  “I take that as a compliment.” Charles grinned. “Charles wasn’t exactly a looker, but he didn’t lose the family home. So he had that going for him at least.”

  “How does someone even lose a house in a card game?” Charlotte glanced over at the first picture. It was hard to believe that the man encapsulated in the portrait could do something so reckless.

  “Well you see, Sir Cuthbert was never quite the same after his wife died. The man you see is not really the same man who lost the house in a card game.” Charles shrugged. He looked at the picture and felt the same sense of sadness he always felt while looking at it. The story of his family’s founder was indeed a sad one. “Death does strange things to people.”

  “Do you have a picture on the wall yet?” Charlotte glanced down the wall of portraits. There were at least a dozen more spreading the length of the hallway.

  “According to my mother, my portrait sitting is next month.” He laughed because it sounded ridiculous to say it out loud. “It is family tradition to have the portraits painted, despite modern technology. So who knows how long I’m going to be ‘sitting’ for.”

  “Likely a whole day,” Stuart guessed.

  “If my dad’s recount of it is anything to go by. Finding someone who actually does this kind of work nowadays is extremely difficult. No one actually paints portraits like they used to.” He looked at the portrait of Sir Cuthbert a little longingly.

  “No one does anything like they used to,” Charlotte observed. She too was looking at the portrait, her head tilted in consideration. “Are there portraits of the wives as well? Or just the gentlemen of the family?”

  “The wives are in the other wing. Come with me.” He led them down the hall towards the other end of the house. At this end was a similar wall of portraits, each depicting a lady of the house.

  Charlotte enjoyed how the styles changed as the portraits progressed back in history right up to the last one. “I assume this is Sir Cuthbert’s wife?”

  “Yes. Lady Edith was quite a sight to be seen apparently, and if the portrait is anything close to reality, then I believe the accounts.” Charles grinned. “It never mattered how ugly the men of the hall were. The ladies always seemed to be breath taking.”

  “What happened to her?” Charlotte frowned at the picture. The woman was indeed beautiful but there was a sadness around her eyes. It could have just been the painter’s interpretation, but Charlotte couldn’t help but feel that there was something hiding behind the eyes of that long lost woman.

  “Well that’s quite a family story, actually.” Charles ate another cookie and considered it for a moment. “It’s hard to say what is true and what is legend at this point in time.”

  “Well clearly you have to tell us now,” Stuart ate the last item on his plate and grinned eagerly. He was always up for a good story, especially one that may have been embellished a little over the years.

  “It’s a story that is full of love and loss, treachery and scandal. It has all the makings of a good Shakespearean play, to be honest,” he laughed. “Well you may want to settle in for this one.” He sat down cross-legged on the floor and watched them do the same. “Hmm where to begin…”

  Chapter 5

  Scandal

  * * *

  “The beginning is always a good place to start,” Stuart advised.

  Charles nodded in agreement. “The beginning is a good place to start. You are correct, sir. So let’s start there.

  “Sir Cuthbert and Lady Edith were married due to a family arrangement. But despite that, there was a great deal of love between the two. Despite it being common at the time, there was not a huge age gap between husband and wife. It was likely due to that fact that they fell so easily and so quickly in love. I don’t imagine her good looks hurt the match too much either.

  “And after the marriage, she did her duty and bore him several children. I believe the total was six: three sons and three daughters. They had quite a happy family in this home, which Sir Cuthbert had commissioned to be built even before he had been wed to Lady Edith. And it was a good thing that he’d built it large. Because they definitely had the family to fill it and they quite often entertained.

  “Having people over back in those times wasn’t just for a night. Because travel took so long, you would have family stay with you for weeks and sometimes even months.”

  Charlotte looked at him wide eyed. “I couldn’t imagine doing that.”

  “Yeah, we get a lot more freedom now that we have the internal combustion engine. It’s a lot easier to get around. But, obviously that wasn’t the case,” he chuckled and set the cookie plate on the floor between them all.

  “Things were going well for the couple for several years,” he continued. “When their youngest turned ten, Lady Edith began to get sick.

  “It came on so gradually that no one really noticed at first. She would be tired all the time and light headed. She began to retire to her bedch
amber and take part in fewer events. Sir Cuthbert though perhaps it was a flu, but it persisted for several months. She would be right as rain one day and then grey as a cloudy sky the next. It really was the most perplexing thing.

  “They called in physicians and tried blood-letting, but nothing worked. They had her blessed by a priest, but still she got worse. Sir Cuthbert was devastated. He was watching the woman he loved fade day-by-day before his eyes and there was nothing he could do about it.

  “And then suddenly she began to get better. It was like some kind of miracle. And it was right before Christmas so everyone was ecstatic about it. They began planning a large Christmas celebration to commemorate the joyous occasion. Food was ordered and family was invited. It was going to be one of the largest events that Ferguson Hall had ever seen hosted.

  “Lady Edith was said to have been over the moon with excitement about the chance to once again engage with the public. She was finally returning to her old self. But things took a turn for the worse the night of the party.”

  “Of course they did,” muttered Stuart.

  Charles grinned. “I told you if sounded a bit more legend than fact, but hear me out.” He eyed the cookies but figured he should probably hold off so that he actually enjoyed dinner. “The night of the party, Sir Cuthbert went looking for his wife to see if she would be ready in time for the evening’s events. She had laid down for the first part of the day in order to conserve her energy for the long night. It wasn’t so much that she was feeling sick again, but more so that she wanted to be well rested.

  “When he went looking for his wife he instead found her handmaid, Emma, outside of the door. He was told by the handmaid that Lady Edith was getting ready and would be at the party as planned. He had no reason to doubt her.”

  “I don’t trust the handmaid,” Charlotte announced and had both of the guys laughing.

  “You would be right not to trust her,” Charles went on. “If we are to believe family legend, she was hopelessly in love with Sir Cuthbert. Whether it was reciprocated or not is anyone’s guess. But I would assume that it was not. All accounts seem to indicate he was endlessly in love with his wife. Still, she was quite taken with him. And she was not telling the truth about Lady Edith.

  “When Sir Cuthbert went looking for his wife later that evening when she hadn’t yet emerged from her bedchamber, he found her dead in bed. She was cold as ice and had clearly been dead for several hours. The alarm was raised at once and riders were sent to locate Emma, as she was no longer in the house. He was certain that she had something to do with the ending of his wife’s life.

  “There was no proof of that, of course. The physicians that were called could find no real reason why Lady Edith had died. Most believe that she had been poisoned, and that she was being poisoned continually over the course of that last year, thus explaining her chronic illness. But there was no way to prove it. Still, the witch-hunt for Emma progressed. Sir Cuthbert would see somebody pay for the death of his wife, guilty or not.”

  “Do you think she did it?” Charlotte leaned forward, captivated by the story.

  Stuart ate another cookie and considered. “I think she did it.”

  “It’s hard to say for certain if she did or not. It was a full day before she was tracked down and questioned. Emma swore up and down that she was not responsible, but Sir Cuthbert would hear none of it. He had her hung for her crimes immediately and her body burned. It is said that he proclaimed such a person as she did not deserve a good Christian burial.”

  “Harsh,” Stuart commented. “But I suppose his wife did just die.”

  “His actions were clouded with grief, arguably.” Charles shrugged. “Who was really responsible for Lady Edith’s death is hard to say. Sir Cuthbert became a bit of a recluse after she died. He became a bit of a drinker. And he became quite the gambler.”

  “Hence losing the house.” Charlotte nodded. That part made a bit more sense now.

  “Yes. He also lost the family title along with the house. We were no longer Lords and Ladies after his fall from grace. We were just plain old Fergusons. Which isn’t so bad, really.” Charles shrugged. “The real spooky part of all of this is the fact that people still see Emma around Ferguson Hall. Despite the fact that she was hung and burned in the village, it seems as though her spirit has latched onto this place with a particular sense of vigour.”

  “Have you ever seen her?” Charlotte’s interest was immediately piqued at the concept of a ghost being in the house.

  “No, I haven’t personally. She seems to have a thing for women. Many of the women over the years have claimed to have seen her in the house. She roams the hallways and the grounds. Some people say they’ve seen Lady Edith too, but that is a rarity. It seems the Lady had very little unfinished business upon her death.”

  “Have many people died here?” Stuart glanced around himself as if looking for a ghost to be lingering behind him as they sat in the hallway.

  “The house is over 600 years old. Plenty of people have died here,” Charles laughed at his shocked look. “I don’t think they’ve all stuck around to cause terror and bother the household, though. Otherwise I would have seen them by now.”

  “Well that’s a relief.” Stuart looked at Charlotte but he could see the curious light in her eyes and knew that she was completely enamoured at the idea of ghosts being around.

  “I like to think so.” Charles got to his feet and retrieved their plates. “Well kids, I think we’ve wasted enough time. We should probably go back to the sitting room and see what the adults have been up to.”

  “They are likely still talking about the same things they were talking about when we left,” Charlotte said, her voice heavy with reluctance.

  “And what conversation was that?” Charles inquired.

  “The ‘my horse is bigger than your horse’ debate,” she supplied.

  He tilted his head in consideration for a moment. “Well that would be a hard debate to win considering we don’t have a horse at all,” he observed.

  She laughed. “We’re sitting next to you at dinner, by the way. It might save us from stabbing someone.”

  “Well, I would hate for anyone to get stabbed at their first Christmas here.” He grinned and ushered them back towards the stairs. He had a feeling that he was going to need them as much as they would need him to make it through dinner. He was happy to have someone to talk to about normal things. It was nice to not have to put on a face every once in a while, especially in his own home.

  Chapter 6

  Dreams

  * * *

  Dinner went exactly as Charlotte expected dinner to go. Her parents were slightly tipsy by the time they sat down at the table and they continued to drink throughout the meal. She couldn’t blame them. Amelia’s parents were a bit much to put up with sober, and the alcohol probably helped.

  Charlotte had sipped at her own glass of wine and had felt the light buzz from it. It had been a nice feeling to carry her through the evening as she ate more than her fill of food that, on a regular day, she’d never be able to afford.

  Stuart had been right. It was kind of nice to see how the other half lived. It was nice to drink fancy wine and eat fancy food.

  It wasn’t easy to ignore the conversation going on at the other end of the table. But she had just kept her head down, eaten her food, and kept up some hushed small talk with Stuart and Charles.

  Dinner had gone on for three long hours. She’d eaten fancy desserts, far too much, truth be told. After dinner, they’d retired to the room with the warm leather chairs that she’d been eyeing earlier. It had been nice to curl up in the leather chair and slip into a bit of a food coma. It was easier to tune out the nonsense then.

  They brought in their bags eventually and, before they said goodnight and Merry Christmas Eve, they made sure to put all of their presents under the tree.

  It was quite an impressive Christmas tree. Charlotte hadn’t noticed it the first time around in the sitt
ing room. It was almost nine feet tall and decorated with the skill of something out of a magazine.

  Charlotte was certain that her cousin Amelia could work as an interior designer if she wanted. She’d have to remember to tell her that and to compliment her on how good of a job she’d done with the decorating of the house. But that would be a later issue. Right now, she wanted to sleep in the large comfy bed that she’d discovered in the room she would have for the night

  She might have to come visit her cousin more often, she thought as she jumped onto the plush mattress, if for nothing other than a chance to sleep in the bed again. She didn’t dislike Amelia. They just didn’t live in the same type of world and it made it hard for them to relate.

  Charlotte promised herself that she’d try to work on that a little more tomorrow. She liked her family well enough and she liked Charles. So if she could make Amelia a more tolerable person in her life, it could be the beginning of many dinner and tea visits.

  She wasn’t romantically interested in Charles. She rolled her eyes at the thought. She just got along with him. It was nice to see that her cousin had found someone with money who was actually normal. And she had a feeling that Amelia, when not putting on a social face, might be normal too. She seemed to remember her being fun at some point in time.

  She curled up under the thick duvet and snuggled deep into the pillows. Yeah, she could get used to this kind of life, she thought as she felt the mixture of wine, lots of food, and sleep pull at her. She could definitely get used to how the other half lived.

  She was running through the snow. She could feel the cold wetness of it seeping through her thin shoes but that didn’t matter. She just needed to run. She needed to get away. She needed to get far away.

  Her heart raced as she ran. She didn’t know why she was afraid. She just knew that she needed to keep running. She knew that the more distance she put between herself and what was behind her, the better.