The stone steps to the cellar were cold and she wished she’d thought to put on clogs for her indoor shoes had thin soles were not suitable for this task. The cellar was icy – the bitter wind spiralling through a gap in the external trapdoors. Placing her candle on the shelf she unhooked the basket from its nail and began to rummage amongst the vegetables. The pile was mountainous and in the feeble flickering light she couldn’t tell a potato from a mangel-wurzel, whatever that might be. The sooner this unpleasant job was over, the quicker she could return.
She heard steps on the ceiling; she would recognize Ralph anywhere. After putting the heavy basket over one arm she lifted her skirts, and candle in the other hand, she hurried up the stairs. She emerged into the scullery and left the vegetables on the table. Her hands were thick with mud and she turned back to search for a pail of water to wash them, but there was none; no one had been outside to fetch fresh-water.
She found a clean rag and did her best to remove the soil from her hands. She could hear Ralph talking to Birdie and then the bolts were being drawn back in the passageway that ran parallel to the kitchen. He was going out and he hadn’t bothered to come in and bid her good morning. After what had passed between them, they were more than good friends, surely?
She rushed into the kitchen, skidding to a halt in surprise. ‘Ralph, I thought I heard you going out.’
She watched his mouth quirk. Hastily she pushed her hands behind her back. ‘There’s no water and we all have to do our bit since we have so few staff here.’
‘I know, sweetheart. It’s not your hands I was concerned about – you’ve a large smudge of dirt across your cheek.’
Mortified she clapped her hands to her face adding to the mess. ‘Don’t you dare to laugh at me; if you were a gentleman you wouldn’t stand there smirking but find me something to remove it.’ Her words were sharp but her eyes were laughing.
He reached into his coat pocket and, removing a clean white handkerchief, a; pointed to a chair. ‘Sit down, my dear, and I’ll restore your countenance. At the moment you look like an urchin.’
Hester saw him tip a small quantity of hot water, from the kettle warming on the range, on to the cloth. She noticed his fingers were strong and brown, not like the white hands one associated with the aristocracy. She settled comfortably on the upright kitchen chair and tilted her face.
He squatted in front of her, then reached out and, grasping her chin, briskly rubbed away the mud. His touch was impersonal; he didn’t take the opportunity to stoke her face lovingly, there was no sign of the warmth and passion they had shared the previous night. She felt herself shrivel inside. Had her wanton behaviour given him a disgust of her? Was she considered a girl with no morals, someone unsuitable? She tried to twist her head from his hand, but his fingers tightened.
‘Sit still, you goose, you don’t want anyone else to see you like this, do you?’
Even his voice was matter-of-fact, like an exasperated parent, not a lover. This was too much. She hadn’t wanted to fall in love with him, not wished ... her head flew back. She couldn’t help the gasp of pain as her already tender skull cracked painfully against the wooden chair. Tears filled her eyes that had nothing to do with distress.
‘What is it? You ninny, let me look.’
His sympathy was too much for her frayed nerves. A surge of anger at him, at the loss of her beloved dog, at everything, raged through her. ‘Remove your hands from my person, Waverley. Haven’t you done me enough damage already? I’m quite capable of taking care of myself. Why don’t you go and do something useful? Find my dog, for instance.’ Her icy glare was returned in full measure. She saw him swallow and his lips thinned. He straightened, glowering at her.
‘I beg your pardon, Miss Frobisher. I have no wish to intrude.’
He was very angry. Should she apologize, tell him it was her headache that had made her speak so? But she couldn’t find the words and he turned his back leaving the matter unresolved.
The clatter of cutlery heralded the arrival of Birdie, but when he greeted her companion his manner was friendly, his tone light. Whilst they were conversing about the events of the night she slipped away, across the passageway back upstairs to her bedroom where she found a facecloth to complete what he had started.
She wasn’t going to go downstairs until he was outside; she had no wish to see that look in his eyes a second time. She busied herself tidying – as the girls were helping in the kitchen and the diary they would have no free time to come upstairs.
She made up the fire, cleaned out the ashes and dusted the room. Pleased with her efforts she washed her hands again, brushed her skirts free of dust and was done. She looked around; there was nothing more to do. She would sit on the window seat and read her novel.
She stared out of the tiny casement and gasped. Neddingfield was haunted – they were dealing with ghosts. Only the supernatural could have enabled the snowmen to move themselves across the grass and turn to face the woods. She had to speak to Ralph; it no longer mattered if he was cross with her, she needed him, he was the only one who could protect her from the evil that was closing in.
Chapter Fourteen
Ralph heard Hester leave and cursed himself for mishandling the situation. He had
deliberately adopted a more formal manner believing she wouldn’t want to be reminded of what had almost taken place the night before. Being forced to live in such close proximity was going to become a test of his inner strength. His lips curved as he remembered her softness, the way her eyes looked in to his with such sincerity….
‘Your grace, what do you think?’
He had heard nothing Miss Bird had said in the past few minutes; he had been woolgathering. He nodded sagely and said something ambiguous hoping his answer would satisfy whatever question she had asked previously.
‘I shall leave you to continue your excellent management of the house, Miss Bird. I must go outside and search for the missing dog.’ Robin was waiting for him looking even more disconsolate than he had yesterday.
‘Your grace, I think we should leave this place, not stay until we’ve all been picked off one by one. Neddingfield is haunted.’
‘Nonsense. Someone is trying to convince us the place has ghosts, it’s up to you and I to disprove it. Good God! You’ve faced far worse. Don’t waver now, Robin, I need you by my side.’
‘I’m not leaving you, I didn’t say I’d do that; what I’m saying, your grace, is that we should all go before it’s too late. Polly was here a moment ago telling Tom those snowmen you built have walked across the park. I tell you that’s not the work of humans. I never met walking snowmen, not even in Spain.’
‘God’s teeth! What next? Are you coming with me or are you going to hide in here?’
Robin scowled, but tied his muffler tighter. The sky was heavy, no sign of the sun today.
‘I think we’re in for more snow any minute, Robin. Even if we wanted to leave, by the time we’re ready there’ll be a blizzard blowing.’
He checked his pistol was in his pocket then he led his reluctant valet outside to investigate. Sure enough the snowmen were no longer in front of the study window but had moved fifty yards nearer to the wood and were facing in the opposite direction. There were no footprints in the snow and the smoothness behind each could be interpreted as the pathway they’d made as they shuffled forward of their own volition. In spite of his reassurances to Robin the hairs on the back of his neck prickled.
He walked up to the first snowmen and pushed it; it shot forward several inches as if on wheels. ‘Good God! So that’s how they did it. Here, Robin, help me tip this object upside down.’
As he’d expected the base was sheet ice, so his theory was correct. ‘Ingenious, but no ghosts involved. Somebody sliced this snowman from its base and then tipped water over and waited until it froze. It would have been easy to slide them along the grass and leave them as they are now. They couldn’t have done it if the snowmen hadn’t been solid; remember, th
e past twenty-four hours it hasn’t risen above freezing.’
He watched Robin walk over to the other snowmen and found they had all been treated in the same way. The tension drained from his man – finally all thoughts of ghosts had been dispelled. ‘Whoever is orchestrating these events has been helped by the unseasonable weather. No doubt if there had been no snow we would have been treated to floating
apparitions and clanking chains.’
‘I’m sorry, your grace, but until this moment I was almost sure there were ghosts here. But
if this is man-made, then so were the rest of the events. Which means that dog must be somewhere.’
*
‘Birdie, do you know where the duke is? I need to speak to him most urgently. Do you know the snowmen have moved?’
Meg, who had been setting out the requirements for luncheon, dropped the cutlery she was holding with a clatter on the floor. ‘Oh, Miss Frobisher, Polly and I saw them last night. We quite made up our minds to leave today, but once it’s light and we’re all down here together, things don’t seem quite so scary.’
‘What nonsense is this? The snowmen moving? I rather think not. Just forget about it and get on with your work, my girl.’
Meg curtsied and knelt to pick up the spilt knives and forks. ‘Yes, madam. I’m sorry, I’m sure.’
Hester was about to continue the conversation when her companion shook her head. ‘Why don’t you put on your outdoor garments and go and see how the horses are doing? They haven’t been exercised for two days so no doubt they’ll all be in need of company and distraction.’
‘I’ll do that, Birdie. Where’s Polly? I’ve not seen her this morning.’
‘She’s gone with Smith to show him how to milk a cow; no doubt they’ll be back here in due course.’
It took barely ten minutes to change into her stoutest boots, put on her pelisse, warm cloak and bonnet. She paused, glancing into the small mantel mirror to check her appearance. In spite of her lack of sleep her eyes were sparkling and her cheeks becomingly pink. Being in love obviously suited her.
It was strange how these things happened, but she supposed that she and Ralph had spent more time together in the past few days than many couples did in six months. Her dear friend, Charlotte had only spoken alone to her prospective husband on three occasions before he made her an offer. They had both known they would suit from the first moment, Charlotte had told her firmly. She frowned. What a shame their initial delight in each other’s company had so quickly faded. If they had known each other longer, would they still have married?
She scowled. She had no intention of giving up her freedom; the fact that she found herself inexplicably in love with Ralph didn’t mean they had to become man and wife. No, even if he did propose again and she accepted, she would insist on a long engagement. He could come and spend time with her at Draycot Manor and she would attend soirees and musical evenings in London with him during the season. Maybe such pastimes could be pleasant if escorted by someone like him.
Outside a few flakes of fresh snow dampened her upturned face; they were already knee deep in the wretched stuff, the last thing they wanted was any more. She comforted herself with the thought that if they were unable to move then the same should apply to those who wished them harm. Birdie was right; it was ridiculous to think the Hall should inexplicably be inhabited by a host of ghosts at exactly the same time as her aunt disappeared and Ralph inherited an unlooked-for dukedom.
In spite of the shortage of manpower the cobbled pathways were swept clear and her journey round to the stable block was accomplished without mishap. She paused as she passed the dairy; Polly’s explaining how you churned the cream into butter.
How fortuitous the girl had turned out skilled in so many tasks. Hester felt ashamed of herself, she was several years the girl’s senior but she had spent her life in idle luxury. Without Birdie and Polly none of them would have eaten and the cows would have gone unmilked.
As she reached the stable doors she saw Ralph and his valet approaching. She was about to call out a greeting when a familiar shape hurtled from the woods and the words froze in her throat.
‘Jet! Jet, where have you been, you bad dog? We’ve been so worried about you.’ The animal’s thick coat was snow encrusted but otherwise he appeared unharmed. He threw himself at her and reeling backwards, unable to keep her balance on the slippery stones, she tumbled sideways into a snow drift with her dog on top of her.
Thinking this was some new kind of game, instead of allowing her to stand, the wolfhound put his paws on her chest, pinning her to the ground and covered her face with wet licks.
‘Get off! Stop this nonsense.’ Ralph’s voice snapped like a whip and the dog obeyed instantly. Hester lay dazed, unable to move, three quarters of her person smothered in snow. ‘Up you come, my love.’
She found herself yanked unceremoniously to her feet; before she could protest he started to bang her clothes with such vigour she almost tumbled anew.
‘Stop it, Ralph. I’m quite capable of removing the snow for myself.’
He grinned up at her from where he was crouching at her feet vigorously shaking snow from the folds of her cloak. ‘There, I’ve done now. Where did the animal come from? He shot past us so fast I didn’t have time to look.’
‘He came from the path that leads into the woods, but how he ended up there I’ve no idea.’
‘Neither have I. Go inside, darling, I’ll deal with this.’ He grinned down at her and a delightful warmth spread through her insides. ‘Robin, find Tom and bring him indoors with you. We’ll need lanterns if you can find them.’ She hesitated, not wishing to leave his side.
‘Sweetheart, although I’ve removed the worst as the snow melts you’ll become chilled.’ His expression was serious as he continued. ‘There’s a lot more coming and we can’t send for help. Whatever’s going to happen here we shall have to deal with it ourselves.’
Putting his arm around her waist he hurried her along the path making it impossible for her to speak, as she needed all her concentration to maintain her balance. Ralph threw open the back door and they both stepped in just as the snow began, obliterating the pathway in seconds.
‘Here, let me help you take off your cloak and bonnet.’
She’d been about to tell him she was quite capable of doing it herself but saved her breath. She fingered her pelisse; apart from the cuffs and hem it was dry.
‘It’s so cold that I think I’ll keep this on. Ralph, tell me how you think Jet came to be in the woods when the last time I saw him he was in the hall?’
‘You said that you heard him barking after he vanished?’
‘Of course! I said he sounded as though he was inside the walls. He must have found a secret passage, though how he managed to open something like that on his own …’ Her voice faded as she realized the only way her dog could have entered a secret passage was if someone had left it open.
‘I told you, sweetheart, whilst there’s breath in my body no one shall harm you. This does mean someone tried to get in last night. Your dog’s a bloody marvel! Without his intervention you could have been taken.’
Not sure if she was more shocked by the suggestion that she could have been abducted or by his language. ‘Ralph! Such profanity is not something I’m not used to hearing.’
He reached out and grasped her arm, pulling her towards him. ‘I’m a rough soldier, my love, You’ll have to get used to hearing the odd curse or blasphemy.’ He continued to draw her inextricably nearer. They were standing in full view of everyone. Flustered, she settled back on her heels, throwing her weight back. His mouth curved; instead of exerting more pressure, he did the reverse. Taking a stride forward, thus unbalancing her, she found herself falling towards the floor. He was able to capture her before she reached it.
‘Let me go, Ralph, I’ve no wish to be manhandled in this way.’
To her astonishment he released his grip and let her drop the remaining few inches with a thu
d. Incensed she glared up at him standing astride her prostrate form, thick golden hair in disarray, like a pirate in a storybook.
Neither of them heard Miss Bird emerging from the kitchen to see what all the fuss was. ‘My dear girl, you have a nasty propensity lately for tumbling to the floor. Kindly stand aside, your grace, and allow me to assist Miss Frobisher to her feet.’
He stepped to one side; his lips pressed together trying not to laugh. Hester was in no mind to do so.
‘Thank you, Birdie, I should be grateful for your assistance as none has been forthcoming elsewhere.’ She sent a dagger look in his direction but he winked at her roguishly then turned away to greet Robin and Tom as they are you clattered through the door.
Their appearance gave her the impetus to bounce upright bristling with annoyance. Adopting her most formal tone she addressed the back of his shaking shoulders ‘And another thing, Lord Colebrook, kindly desist from larding your conversation with unnecessary and unwanted endearments. It’s neither appropriate nor helpful.’
Not waiting to hear his response, Birdie’s scandalized stare was enough to tell her she should have kept the comments to herself. She skipped nimbly into the kitchen, placing herself firmly on the far side of the table, waiting to see if he followed her in.
Chapter Fifteen
How could she! She had no decorum. Even someone as little versed in etiquette as himself was aware such remarks should not be made in front of the servants. He glanced up to see both men trying hard not to smile. He frowned and they sobered.
‘Good, get those lanterns lit, Clark, and we’ll go secret passage hunting. As we’re certain there is one it shouldn’t be too hard to locate.’ He patted his pocket and nodded at Robin. His man answered immediately.
‘Yes, your grace, we’re both armed. Neither of us go far nowadays without a pistol in our pockets.’
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