by Nita Round
Emma laughed.
“Well? Are you?” Maggie prompted.
“The chainsaw’s in the car.”
Maggie snorted as she grabbed her gun. “Come on then. Let’s go.”
Emma borrowed her aunt’s old overcoat. It had seen better days and it smelled damp and musty, but when she wrapped it around her shoulders she had to admit it was warmer than anything she owned. It would keep the worst of the rain from her shoulders, and Emma could be thankful for such mercies.
“We can take my car,” Emma yelled over the rain and wind. “I’m walking nowhere.”
“I know.” Maggie pointed at Emma’s feet, “I’ve seen your shoes and I’m not sure you can walk to the end of the drive in those, never mind any distance. Not only will you break your ankle, you’ll ruin the shoes.”
Chapter Seven
MAGGIE FOLDED HERSELF into Emma’s tiny city car with surprising grace considering she was squeezing herself into something designed for hobbits. “Small and dinky isn’t it? Bet you can park it anywhere. More room in a wheel barrow though,” she observed.
“Yes, but unlike a wheelbarrow this has a roof,” Emma replied.
“Indeed,” Maggie nodded as she slumped into the seat so her head didn’t knock the roof. “I’m not even tall and I have trouble getting in.”
“I could always chop your head off and then you would fit in without a problem.”
Maggie chuckled. “But you left the axe in the back and you don’t want to go into the rain.”
“Exactly,” Emma answered and pulled away from the kerb. She threw the little car around the green and swung around by the gatehouse. Two towers, several floors high, soared into the night. Numerous flying buttresses, elegant and ornate, looked like giant spiders climbing each tower. “What a gorgeous building. Shame it has fallen to ruin,” Emma said as she slowed to crawling speed under the arched gateway.
“Yes, it is.” You wait until you see the house, Maggie thought to herself. “You might want to slow down on the way up. The road is narrow and steep, with this rain it is quite slippery too.”
Emma slowed down as instructed. “It’s a fair way. I wonder how you saw me arrive from way up here,” she said.
“I didn’t say I was at the house.”
“Where were you?” Emma asked.
“I was in the gate house, at the top of the west tower in fact. It is where I often stand.”
“On a night like this why would you be at a ruin?”
Maggie paused to look out of the window, “Because it is where I wait.”
“Wait? What on Earth for?”
“For you.” Maggie said.
Emma slammed on her brakes and the wheels slipped on the sodden and wet road.
“Dammit Emma, you almost drove off the road.”
Emma turned to face Maggie.
“Excuse me. What did you say?”
Maggie didn’t speak for a moment. She looked at Emma’s face, her eyes wide. She appeared to be stunned, or scared, Maggie wasn’t entirely sure which. The sound of raining drumming on the roof filled the car whilst she thought of what to say.
“What did you mean?” Emma repeated, “Where you wait for me? That sounds too weird, you know. Why would you want to wait for any one?”
“I knew you would come. I had to wait for you.”
“Maggie, you’re weirding me out here.”
“I will explain. I promise.”
“So it turns out you are some axe-wielding homicidal Lord then.”
Maggie laughed, but there was not the slightest hint of humour in the sound. “Far from it.” Her laugh turned to a grimace. “I’ll wager you will be the death of me.”
“Maggie...”
“Let’s go to the house shall we? Better to be in some comfort.”
Emma seemed to pause for a moment, then she put the car into gear and resumed her drive to Magwood Hall.
IF EMMA WAS impressed by the gatehouse, then the hall overwhelmed her.
“Well,” Maggie mumbled, “this is the old pile. Magwood Hall.”
“Hall? It’s a huge castle!”
“It’s not so big. In the beginning, it was quite modest, a farmstead manor, but it grew, and each generation added something different to the mix. I think my forebears grew more extravagant with each generation.”
“I should think they did.” Emma stared at the Hall, and even in the poor visibility of a mountain storm it was a commanding edifice. She could see towers with witch hat turrets and grand flying buttresses. “Extravagant ancestors? Is that what you call it?”
Maggie shrugged. “Yeah, one or two of them got a little showy I think.” She pointed in the rain, “If you drive through those gates, Emma, we can unload in the courtyard.”
“You have a courtyard?”
“Yes, through the gate and into the tunnel through the wall.”
It was not a long drive, but if the gates were closed it would be a formidable gatehouse to guard the way into the inner grounds. The gravelled courtyard on the other side was so large it could house a substantial retail park all on its own. “Wow,” Emma breathed, “It’s huge.”
“Park right next to those doors,” Maggie instructed, “Might as well avoid as much rain as possible. I can’t be bothered to race around to the back door. This will do.”
Maggie led the way through the rain, up the front steps to a set of double doors. Inside a vaulted entry made way to a sizeable arched hall. To one side, a wide stone staircase with carved uprights, and covered with ornate decoration, rose upward. Arched doors stood to the left and the right, and fluted marble columns stretched up to the ceiling.
“Like it?” Maggie asked.
“Wow. Very impressive.”
Maggie shrugged, “It’s just a house.”
Emma thought about her tiny flat. The whole thing would fit into this hallway and she could park the car next to it without touching the walls. “Yeah, it’s just a house and nothing more.”
Maggie turned to face her and frowned. “I am merely a caretaker of this and the land.” Then she shrugged. “We can take your bags upstairs now if you like and then I’ll make some tea. I have milk too.”
“Sounds great.”
“Follow me,” Maggie called as she bounced up the stairs with Emma’s suitcases in one hand. “The east wing will be where we stay. West wing used to be for guests, but we don’t use it. Well,” she paused as though thinking of the words to use, “I don’t use it, but my brother has decided to commandeer the west end of the building for himself.”
“So you have a wing each then.”
Her room was a substantial one and contained a standard double bed, a walnut wardrobe, and matching dressing table. A couple of armchairs and a small side table made the place look cosy even though the lights did not work. “No lights here,” Maggie pointed out as she lit a collection of candles on the side table. “I’ll get you one of the storm lanterns later, but for now candles is all we have. We’ll get more after I’ve warmed you up by the fire.”
“This is lovely.”
“It’s a bit dusty.”
“No it’s nice, I like it.”
“We don’t get many guests, and I don’t have many staff on duty anymore,” she shrugged, “it is what it is.”
“And it is delightful.”
“You want to settle in first? Or come downstairs?”
“I’m sure I’ll get lost if you leave me alone. I’d rather follow you down.”
Maggie looked pleased at her response. “Then your comfort and security is my number one priority. I will not leave you unattended at any point.”
“Even when I go to sleep?”
Maggie opened her mouth, then closed it again, whatever she had intended to say got lost somewhere between brain and mouth.
“I’m teasing. It’s a bad habit.”
“Do you tease everyone you meet?”
“Only the cute ones,” she answered.
“Forward hussy,” Maggie muttered
and led the way.
THE HOUSE, AS much as Emma saw, given it was dark and there were few lights operating, was as grand, if not more so, than the entrance hall. It had vaulted archways, ceilings, great pillars, pilasters, and so many other grand architectural features it looked overwhelming in the half light. Big and imposing, ornate to the point of ostentatious, the whole building glorified the skills of artisans long gone. There was nothing ordinary or contemporary about this residence, even the cobwebs were grand and complex silvery designs. Emma refused to be overwhelmed, not even in the main hall, where she found a fire roaring away in a fireplace so huge she could stand in it.
“Like it?”
“What?” Emma replied, surprised by the question.
“Do you like it?”
“Well yes, this place is stunning. It’s like something off the television.”
“I’m glad you like it. Are you hungry? Can I get you anything to eat? Tea? Coffee?”
“I’m starving. Service station food is not the most appetising,” she smiled, “but please, I don’t want to be any bother.”
Maggie beamed. “No bother at all. Come. Come. Let’s see what we have in the kitchen.”
The kitchen was old, well used, and yet had a homey feel to it.
“I’m sorry. It’s a bit like a working museum,” Maggie apologised as she looked about the room as though for the first time.
“I like it here, it’s warm and it feels...nice.”
Maggie looked away as she rummaged through a fridge so old it was very nearly antique. “Cheese. Ham. Pâté. Home-made pickles. Bread and crackers. Does that sound all right?”
“It sounds fantastic.”
“Good,” Maggie agreed as she loaded her choices on to a trolley. “A little bit of this and a little bit of that,” she said and then hummed as she worked her way through the food items. “Red or white?”
“White?”
“Good choice.” She piled plates and glasses on to the trolley.
“No tea?”
Maggie stopped what she was doing. “Tea?”
Emma laughed. “Joking. The wine sounds perfect.”
Relieved, Maggie added olives to the feast on the trolley. “I think this will do it, don’t you think?”
“How many are coming?”
“Do you think I’ve got too much?”
“Not at all. I think there’s enough for me, but what are you having?”
“Ha ha! Smart aleck.”
Chapter Eight
EMMA SLIPPED OFF her shoes and curled up on one of the worn, but comfortable, wing back chairs facing the fire. “Don’t tell me,” she said as her hand brushed against the distressed leather. “This is an original piece. An antique?”
Maggie stared at the floor, “Would you be concerned if I said it was?”
“Hell yes. I’m sitting in the chair as though...” she hesitated, her words and thoughts not yet operating at the same speed. “I am a little too comfortable to sit on something old and expensive.”
“I see.” Maggie moved the food from the trolley on to the rug in front of the fire. “Very little here is new, and those chairs have been there since before I was born.”
“Then they are not old, they’re ancient then.”
“Cheeky,” Maggie chuckled.
Emma blushed. “I didn’t mean it like that. They are not the things normal people would buy.”
“Normal, what do you mean by normal?”
“I mean regular people. Not lords and stuff.”
“So you think I’m not normal?”
“Now you’re trying to twist things.”
Maggie laughed. “Yes, I am.”
“Should we be sitting on it?”
“What? The chair? Of course, that’s what it’s there for.”
“But it might be worth something. It could be valuable.”
“It’s worth sitting on, that’s what it is worth,” Maggie answered. She poured out the wine and handed Emma a glass. “Now, never mind my chairs, tell me about yourself. How much do you know about your aunt?”
“Aren’t you supposed to be answering my questions? You said you would.”
“Later, humour me.”
“All right.”
“Tell me what you know about your aunt.”
Emma took a sip of wine. “My great aunt really, and I didn’t even know she existed until I had a visit from a solicitor a few weeks ago. I think you will know more about her than I do.”
“Do I?”
“Well I am an adopted Blewitt, so until a few weeks ago I’d never even heard of the Tappers or Castlecoombe.”
“I see. Tell me about yourself, Emma Blewitt.”
“You are a nosey one aren’t you?”
Maggie laughed. “We’re neighbours now and it is my duty as Lord of this manor to know everyone.”
“So it’s like a job interview then?” she asked, but she didn’t give Maggie the chance to answer. “My parents, my biological parents, died when I was young and as a result I spent time in a number of homes and institutions. People prefer to adopt babies, not grown kids, so I moved from home to home until adopted. They were an older couple, but I had waited such a long time to escape the system, I was very grateful when they came along. I loved them to bits.”
“Did you look for your biological family?”
“Yes I did, and we spent a lot of money trying to find anyone we could, but we found no one, no survivors anyway. I accepted it and besides, I loved my new parents.” She smiled, but it was a sad smile. “It was a big surprise to find I had an aunt, it was even more of a surprise to discover she’d been looking for me.”
“You loved them? Past tense?”
“Yes. Everyone has gone now.”
“I’m sorry,” said Maggie.
“No need. These things happen.”
“I know, but still, it must have been tough.”
“It makes me sad sometimes. I was born. Then my parents died. A couple adopted me. They died. Now I discover I have an aunt, but she is dead. My past is littered with them.” She sighed, “It’s such a shame and it could all have been avoided.”
“How so?”
“Well we can’t avoid death. That’s for sure.” Emma said.
“No, we can’t.”
“Blame all of the problems on my grandmother I suppose. She wanted to do a disappearing act and no one seems to know why. I know she didn’t want to be a Tapper, but I can only guess so much without more information.” She stared at the wine in her glass, her mind wandered for a moment. “Perhaps now I’m here I’ll be able to find out what was so horrible about being a Tapper.”
Maggie rested her hand upon Emma’s fire-warmed fingers and patted, but she didn’t say anything.
Emma stared at their hands. Pleasant little zaps of electricity shot between them, and she wondered if they could be seen, or whether it was all in her imagination. “Sometimes,” Emma continued, “I fear no matter where I go I am destined to lose people the moment I find them. I will go through life leaving a string of bodies behind me. I shall be alone forever I think.”
“You sound so cynical for one so young.”
Emma felt shocked by her own words, she hadn’t meant to be so open, but there was something about Maggie, and Emma felt safe. “Never mind me, what about you?”
“What’s to say? My life until now has been nothing special.”
“Nothing special? Goodness. A beautiful woman with a title and an ancestral home, your suitors must be queuing from here to the Inger to see you.”
Maggie snorted. “No one rushes to attach themselves to my name or my family. Even if they did want to see me, I would not be interested.”
“Why?” Emma asked, intrigued. Then she stopped. “I’m sorry, I’m nosey. It’s like I have known you for years already and I feel almost as though I am supposed to be here.”
Maggie looked at her, as though searching for an answer. “Yes. Strange, isn’t it?”
“Must be
what comes of waving a gun at me.”
“I’m sorry. Would it help if I said the gun wasn’t loaded?”
Emma stared at Maggie for a moment and then laughed. “Perhaps I should shoot you for scaring me for no reason.”
“And leave another body behind?”
Emma looked about ready to cry. “I think I am done leaving bodies,” she whispered.
MAGGIE LAY IN her bed, unable to sleep and she stared, unseeing, at the ceiling. There was a Tapper in her house! With the history the two families had, who would have thought it possible? Beautiful, interesting, and very appealing, Emma Tapper was all she had dreamed of, and then some.
She smiled as she thought through the evening, and her smile grew broader when she recalled walking Emma to her room.
“Here you are, all safe and sound.”
“Thank you Maggie, I don’t think I would have found it by myself.”
She leaned against the wall as with as much nonchalance as she could muster. “No problem Emma, I said I would keep you out of trouble.”
“You did.”
“I’ve had a wonderful evening, Emma, thank you.”
Emma fiddled with her watch. “I’ve had a great evening too. You’re so kind to take me in and spoil me like this. It’s almost as though you planned it all.”
“It would be very spooky if it was.”
Emma looked up at Maggie with a cheeky grin. “I’d offer you a nightcap, but I think we had plenty downstairs.”
Maggie laughed. “You’re probably right.” She waited a moment, but Emma stood there, her hand on the door handle, and the storm torch set to a steady glow in her hand. “Perhaps it is time to go. Goodnight Emma. Sleep well.”
Emma smiled back and put her hand on Maggie’s arm. “Goodnight,” she whispered, but her voice was so low and soft Maggie leaned forward in case she said anything else. Next, she felt Emma’s lips brush against her cheek. “Sleep well.” The door to Emma’s room opened and Emma slipped inside. “See you in the morning,” she said.
“If you need anything I’m down the corridor.”
“Okay. Thank you,” Emma answered and shut the door. There was some reluctance to put the door between them. Maggie was sure of it.