Haunting and Scares Collection

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Haunting and Scares Collection Page 15

by Rosemary Cullen


  “I think I’ve figured you out,” she said quietly to the portrait of Rebecca. “This man, you loved him. You both loved each other – but you never had the chance to be together because something awful happened.” Emmaline shivered. “Because your husband killed him,” she said softly. “Otherwise, you would have eloped.”

  Emmaline dragged a heavy chair across the floor and carefully hung Johnathan’s portrait next to Rebecca’s. A light gust of wind blew through the room – but it was warm, almost as soothing as the touch of a lover. Emmaline closed her eyes, feeling like she’d done the right thing.

  “Now you can be together forever,” Emmaline said softly. “I’ll give the two of you some peace and quiet.” She grabbed her laptop and went downstairs to the kitchen, where she intended to write Lily a long email. But as soon as she sat down with a mug of tea and a snack, she found that she couldn’t concentrate on words.

  Instead, she found herself going through the photo albums saved on her computer. Looking through her wedding photos felt like a punch in the gut. She and Jack looked so happy – holding hands, grinning, in matching jeans and black t-shirts. She closed her eyes, remembering the day like it had just happened.

  “Wife sounds funny, don’t you think?” Emmaline wrinkled her nose. “It sounds old.”

  Jack laughed. “Baby, you’re only twenty-four,” he said. He winked. “You got a lot of living left to do.” He grabbed Emmaline’s fingers and brought them to his lips, gently kissing her hand. Emmaline smiled so widely that her cheeks ached.

  “It’s hard to believe we’re married,” Emmaline said softly as the two of them strolled away from the New York City courthouse. “We just met. But I feel like I know everything about you, Jack.”

  Jack looked serious. “It’s not hard to believe for me,” he said. “The moment I saw you, Emmaline…I was a goner. I fell so hard, I think I’m still bruised.” He leaned down and kissed Emmaline’s forehead. “And we’re gonna be together forever, just the two of us.” He grinned roguishly, melting Emmaline’s heart.

  “Just the two of us?” Emmaline raised an eyebrow and giggled.

  Jack flushed. “Maybe a couple of kids,” he said. “In a few years.”

  ~~~~~

  Emmaline opened her eyes and shook her head. Her long blonde hair fell in tangled around her shoulders, and she shivered despite the warmth of the woodstove. She felt different inside – still heartbroken, but almost like she was beginning to heal. Her scarred, broken heart felt stronger than it had in months.

  And she couldn’t stop thinking about Lady Rebecca, Johnathan Playfair, and Lord Dunraven. Emmaline got up and paced around. She looked over the documents from Lily again and again, searching for some little detail that would reveal the truth. Finally, at her wit’s end, she picked up her phone and dialed Cornwall Real Estate.

  A familiar chipper voice answered the phone. “’Ello, this is Alice! How may I be of service?”

  Emmaline cleared her throat. “Hi, Alice,” she said. “This is Emmaline Rodgers – you know, the woman who purchased Clanbourne House.”

  “Oh.” Alice’s tone cooled noticeably. “Well, if you’re going to ask for a refund, be advised we cannot—“

  “No,” Emmaline said quickly. She looked around her kitchen and smiled. “I’m very happy here. I don’t want to leave.”

  “Oh, smashing!” Alice replied. She breathed an audible sigh of relief. “You know, I’m so glad to hear you say that. The house had…well, let’s just say, it had been through a string of unsuccessful people before you came along. You really must have something lucky about you!”

  Emmaline smiled. “Yes,” she said softly. “As a matter of fact, I was actually hoping to ask you a little about the history of the house. Would that be okay?”

  “You know, I’ve got an appointment near Clanbourne later today,” Alice said. “Why don’t I come by the manor?”

  “Sounds perfect. I’ll have tea ready.”

  “Ah, lovely. Well, see you later!” Alice hung up and Emmaline sat in her chair, staring at the phone in her hand. She felt a shiver of dread at the thought of learning the truth, but the warm, happy atmosphere of the kitchen made her feel relaxed once again.

  Three hours later, Emmaline ran outside when she heard a car rumbling up the drive. Alice looked as pleased as ever.

  “My colleagues were quite thrilled when I told them how happy you are at Clanbourne,” Alice said smugly. “They had a bet going – when would you call us and try to work out of the contract?”

  Emmaline smiled nervously. “The truth is, Alice, I was hoping to ask you about Lord Dunraven – Lord Alfred Dunraven.”

  Alice’s smile melted. “Oh?” She kept her voice chipper and light. “What about him?”

  “His wife was called Rebecca, yes?”

  “Correct, yes,” Alice said. “She was an orphan. I believe her parents died at sea. She inherited a great deal of money, but her aunt made a deal with Lord Dunraven.”

  Emmaline frowned. “What…what do you mean?”

  Alice sighed. “Well, you know, the early nineteenth century wasn’t exactly like today.” She gave a nervous laugh. “Today, I’m sure most people are quite close to their extended family. But back in those days, well, things weren’t so. Rebecca’s aunt was an old woman, who didn’t want the responsibility of caring for her young niece. She sent Rebecca to a convent, took control of Rebecca’s fortune, and gave a sizeable portion to Lord Alfred Dunraven.”

  Emmaline swallowed. “Because…”

  “The condition was that when Rebecca turned sixteen, she’d wed Lord Dunraven and become Lady Dunraven. And she’d never have to worry about being a bother on her aunt, ever again.”

  Emmaline stared. “How awful,” she said softly.

  Alice smiled thinly. “Yes,” she agreed. “Quite.”

  “Was that all that happened? I mean…” Emmaline trailed off, biting her lip. “Did something horrible happen in this house? Involving Lord Dunraven?”

  Alice sighed. “Unfortunately, yes,” she said. “When Rebecca arrived from the convent, a poor artist came with her,” she said. Alice sighed dramatically. “I’m not sure of the particulars, but it appears Lord Dunraven had quite the jealous streak!” Alice laughed nervously.

  “Lord Dunraven murdered the artist,” Emmaline said slowly. “He shot him, in the attic of Clanbourne House.”

  Alice bit her lip. “Yes,” she said. “At least, according to popular local legend.” She shrugged. “Who knows,” she said flippantly. “That may have been just a tale, told to scare away buyers.”

  “No,” Emmaline said. She smiled up at the house, feeling heartbreak and satisfaction collide in a bittersweet tangle. “It really happened. I know.”

  Chapter Seven

  Homecoming

  Almost overnight, it seemed that all activity in Clanbourne House had ceased. Emmaline no longer felt cold chills, or gusts of air in rooms where the windows were firmly latched. Amazingly, the portrait of Rebecca looked happier than it had when Emmaline had first arrived. She wasn’t sure if that was because she’d finally learned the truth, but Emmaline didn’t care. The important thing was that now, Rebecca and Johnathan were hanging side by side, together for eternity.

  In the morning, Emmaline laid in bed for a long time. She closed her eyes, peacefully daydreaming of Jack. Although she still ached whenever she thought of her late husband, the serenity inside Clanbourne House was contagious.

  When she heard a car rumbling up the drive, Emmaline frowned. I don’t remember hearing from Lily, she thought as she hastily climbed out of bed and pulled a robe on over her yoga pants and t-shirt. Maybe it’s Alice – maybe she found more information for me.

  But when Emmaline ran downstairs and threw open the great front doors, her heart stopped in her chest.

  Jack Rodgers was standing there, grinning at her. He was deeply tanned, and thinner than he had been. But he was standing there, flesh and blood.

  Emmaline gasp
ed. Tears welled up in her eyes and she burst forward, running to Jack and wrapping her arms around his neck.

  Jack covered Emmaline’s face in kisses. They frantically clawed at one another, holding each other tighter than ever before. Emmaline could hear Jack’s frantic heartbeats beneath his thin chest.

  “What, what happened to you?” Emmaline gasped. She was crying so hard she could barely see.

  “I almost drowned,” Jack said. “I fell over the side of the ship, and hit my head on the way down. When I woke up, I was on the shore of an island.” He wiped a tear from his eye. “I spent six months living on coconuts and dead fish,” Jack said. “A passing cargo ship finally saw the fire I’d built, and I was rescued and flown back to New York. I came here as soon as I found out where you’d gone.”

  Emmaline cried all the harder. She held Jack close. “I thought you were dead,” she whispered hotly in his ear. “Everyone did.”

  Jack nodded sadly. “I thought of you every day, Emmaline. You’ll never know the hurt I went through, knowing that I was causing you pain.”

  Emmaline grabbed his hand and pulled him inside. She tugged Jack upstairs, into her bedroom, and wrapped her arms around him once more.

  But Jack was standing there, stiff as a board.

  “What’s wrong?” Emmaline ran a hand down her husband’s face. It felt unreal to be touching the man she loved – the man she’d been dreaming about nonstop since the move to Clanbourne House.

  “That woman,” Jack said unsteadily. He pointed at the portrait of Rebecca. He shook his head, cleared his throat and gazed at the painting with his eyes wide.

  “What about her?” Emmaline asked nervously. “That’s Lady Rebecca Dunraven – one of the last owners of this house.”

  “I had a vision of her,” Jack said slowly. He gazed deeply into Emmaline’s eyes. “At first, I thought she was you – you have the same hair, and the same eyes.”

  “But it was her? I don’t understand,” Emmaline said. She felt helpless.

  “It was her,” Jack said firmly. “I had a vision that she took my hand and led me into the shade, then showed me where the coconut trees were on the island. She saved my life.” He chuckled slowly. “It was unbelievable, Em. She was almost stern with me – she kept saying that I had to live.”

  Emmaline felt like she would faint. She took Jack’s hand and led him to the small table. After explaining the whole saga of Lady Rebecca, Lord Dunraven, and Johnathan Playfair, her eyes were misty.

  Jack was frowning, a deep crease in his forehead.

  “What’s the matter, love,” Emmaline asked softly. She took Jack’s hand and held it in her own. “What’s troubling you?”

  Jack shook his head. “Nothing,” he said. “But I think I figured it out. That woman – Rebecca…she must have known to help me, she must have wanted me and you to have a happy ending.” He chuckled. “She must have come from the beyond to guide me to life, to make sure I found my way back to you.”

  Emmaline nodded slowly. She looked at the portrait of Rebecca. This time, there was no doubt about it. The beautiful woman in the painting was finally smiling for real, and the haunted look of sadness was gone from her eyes.

  “Thank you,” Emmaline whispered to the painting. “Thank you for giving us what you and Johnathan never got to enjoy together.”

  As Jack pulled Emmaline into his arms and held her, she knew that she’d never be alone again. Emmaline had solved the mystery of the haunted of Clanbourne House. Improbably, against all odds, her husband had survived. Still, she couldn’t ignore the slight pangs of guilt she felt when she thought of Johnathan Playfair and Rebecca Dunraven.

  That night, as Emmaline and Jack slumbered in the four-poster bed, Emmaline dreamed. She dreamt of Johnathan and Rebecca, together at last.

  In the morning, she knew that all would be well.

  The End

  The Haunting of Westbridge Mansion

  Rosemary Cullen

  Copyright © 2019

  All Rights Reserved

  Prologue

  Huntington, England – 1867

  “How are you feeling, my darling?” Baron FitzWalter stroked the brown curls away from his wife’s face. “Are you still poorly?”

  Julia Clowther FitzWalter smiled gently. “No, husband,” she said. “I am feeling very well today, very well indeed.”

  The Baron smiled.

  “Excellent,” he said. He leaned down to kiss Julia’s forehead. “Darling, I was thinking – when you are quite recovered, and perhaps when Thomas Edward is a bit older…perhaps we could travel to the continent.”

  Julia’s brown eyes glowed with excitement and she laughed happily, clapping her hands like a child. Baron FitzWalter kissed her again, this time pressing his lips to hers until her cheeks flamed pink.

  “Oh, Edward,” Julia said tenderly. “Do you really, truly mean it? A trip to the continent?” She laughed again, smiling happily. “You know I have always wanted to see France,” she said. “I have always heard the springtime is just beautiful there.”

  “Darling,” Baron FitzWalter said. “We will do whatever it is that makes you happy.” He grinned. “You are my darling wife, and you have just given me a perfect son.”

  Next to the bed, Thomas Edward FitzWalter lay sleeping peacefully in a bassinet. He was only three weeks old, and a model of tiny perfection. When Baron FitzWalter gazed upon his son, he found it difficult to believe that any love could be greater…except, perhaps, the love of his beautiful wife, Julia.

  Julia relaxed against the pillows.

  “I will look forward to our trip,” she said softly. “Tell me, Edward, how long will you be gone this time?”

  Edward sat gingerly on the edge of the bed and took both of Julia’s delicate hands in his own. He smoothed his thumb over her skin, attempting to soothe her.

  “My darling, I know you hate being alone,” Edward said softly. “But I must go on this trip – my father and brother are expecting me to assist with the family business.”

  Julia looked sour.

  “I do not understand why,” she said with a small sigh. “Your father has gotten himself deeply in trouble more times than I can count. You should not feel responsible for his welfare!”

  A crease appeared in Edward’s forehead but not wanting to argue, he sighed and nodded.

  “Darling, I know,” Edward said. “But they are family – and family must stick together.” He kissed Julia’s cheek.

  “Thomas Edward and I are your family now,” Julia persisted. “Please, Edward – do not think of leaving me here. Thomas Edward is so young, and so small.”

  Edward squeezed Julia’s hands.

  “You are a natural mother,” he said. “I promise you – I will return, as soon as the matter is settled and my father has received the final earnings.”

  Julia pouted. She wanted to throw herself in Edward’s arms, to beg and plead for him to stay. A sharp pang of loneliness hit her in the chest and she shuddered. She remembered the days of her youth, before she’d married Edward. Her mother had often warned her that marriage could be lonely, but Julia hadn’t listened. She’d been too much in love with Edward. Now, she was no less in love with her husband – in fact, she felt more affection for him than ever before. But with a new baby and not much company, Julia worried that she would be a poor mother.

  “I do not want to disappoint you,” Julia said sadly. “But Edward, oh! How I am afraid to be alone.”

  Edward kissed Julia’s forehead and smiled reassuringly.

  “But my darling, you are never alone! You will be with Thomas Edward!”

  Julia forced herself to smile.

  “Yes,” she said softly. “Yes I will.”

  Westbridge Mansion was soon busy with bustling servants and maids, all bearing Edward’s luggage for his long journey. He was traveling to the British Raj with his father and older brother, in a desperate attempt to recoup expenses from his father’s failed attempt at starting a business in Bo
mbay.

  When it came time for Edward to depart Westbridge Mansion for the train station, Julia clung to him in the doorway.

  “My darling, I feel as though I will never see you again,” Julia said. She pressed her face to Edward’s in a desperate kiss. “Oh! How I wish you did not have to leave me!”

  As gently as he could, Edward disentangled himself from his wife’s embrace.

  “I know, my love,” Edward said. He kissed Julia’s forehead. “But I shall return soon. And I promise to spoil you and Thomas Edward as soon as I’m home. And then, we shall plan a trip of our very own. How does that sound?”

  Julia sulked. “I feel as though you are treating me like a child,” she said.

  Edward frowned.

  “I just want you to be happy, my love,” he said. He squeezed Julia’s fingers in his own, then kissed both of her cheeks before walking to the carriage that was waiting with all of his bags.

  Julia stood in the doorway. A deep frown was etched on her fine features. Normally, Julia looked young – almost childlike. But there was a heaviness in her face now that could only come from sadness of the heart.

  The driver snapped the whip and the horses began to trot off, pulling Edward away. Julia couldn’t keep from crying as she watched, covering her mouth with both hands. She stood there for a long time, watching the clouds of dust begin to settle.

  “Miss?”

  Julia turned around. The new maid, Mary, was standing there with a sympathetic expression.

  “Yes?” Julia raised an eyebrow. “What is it?”

  “Do not worry, Miss,” Mary said kindly.

  “I will take good care of you while Mr. Edward is gone.”

  Julia stifled a sob.

  “Yes,” she said, more to herself than to Mary. “Yes.”

  ~~~~~

  Julia was not prepared for the long stretches of being alone with an infant. Her mother had only given her the vaguest advice about children, saying things like “If they suffer from croup, give them water sweetened with honey,” and “Do not let a babe under twelve months sleep on his stomach.”

 

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