The Ghosts of Peppernell Manor

by Amy Reade

  “So are you.”

  I went indoors with a wonderfully warm sensation. Besides feeling so right when I had been with Heath, I had spoken to Lucy on my cell phone earlier in the evening, and even though I missed her, I wasn’t consumed with sadness. I slept well that night.

  I got to work before sunrise the next morning so I could finish the prep work on the ballroom and sitting room walls before I had to clean up for the funeral. I felt an exhilarating sense of satisfaction despite the sorrow that pervaded the house that morning, and I looked forward to being able to start painting the next day.

  After I had cleaned up my materials and had a shower, I went downstairs to the drawing room to wait for Evie. We were going to drive together to the funeral in Charleston. Boone was planning to meet her there. She came in just a few minutes later; I gave her a hug and we walked out to my car. She didn’t say much as we drove into Charleston. But as we drew closer to the church where Harlan’s service was to be held, she spoke.

  “I feel guilty.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I miss Harlan. He admitted to trying to poison Gran, and I feel like I’m being disloyal to her by missing him so much.”

  “Evie, he was your brother. It’s only natural that you miss him and mourn him, even if he did something during his life that was . . . that was . . .” I searched for the right word.

  “Bad,” she finished my sentence.

  “Exactly.”

  “You always know the right thing to say,” she told me. I smiled at her.

  When we arrived at the church, Evie took a deep breath and got out of the car. A crowd was gathering out front and we took a side path to get inside without having to talk to anyone.

  Graydon and Vivian were already inside, talking with the minister. Ruby sat in one of the front pews, her head bowed. Heath arrived shortly after Evie and me, and Phyllis came in just after Heath.

  “When is Boone getting here?” I asked Evie.

  “He should be here anytime now.”

  We all stood talking quietly in the hush of the church when a tall blond man appeared in the narthex and walked slowly up the center aisle. Evie’s eyes lit up when she saw him.

  “Boone!” she cried, running to him. He caught her in a long embrace and they stood like that for several moments. Graydon and Vivian watched them and smiled. They must have known Evie needed to see Boone.

  Boone walked up to Vivian and kissed her cheek, then shook hands with Graydon and Heath. I had “known” Boone for a long time from all the stories Evie told me, but I had never met him. When Evie introduced us, he hugged me and thanked me for being such a good friend to Evie. I liked him right away.

  The mourners started to file into the church, and the family sat in the front two rows in the sanctuary. They would form a receiving line following the funeral.

  It was a lovely service. The church was full of people, reminiscent of Cora-Camille’s funeral. Many of Harlan’s business associates were there, as well as friends from his days in Atlanta. I waited at the end of the line following the service as guests greeted family members and filed out the front doors of the church. A large crowd of mourners dawdled on the sidewalk in front of the church. As I passed among them to get to my car, I could hear faint whispers of speculation as to the identity of the person behind Harlan’s untimely death. I tried not to listen to the gossip. This was certainly not the time or the place for it. I got into my car and followed the rest of the family to the cemetery for the burial.

  It was solemn and quiet as the eight of us stood above Harlan’s grave and said our final good-byes. Vivian was distraught and held on to Graydon’s arm. Evie, encircled by Boone’s arm, cried silently, and Ruby stood with her eyes closed. Phyllis’s lips moved as if in silent prayer, and Heath just stood over the hole in the ground, stone-faced, while the coffin was lowered. I saw him clench and unclench his jaw several times. I was glad when the ordeal was over. We all filed back to our cars and made the short trip back to Peppernell Manor. A lunch had been set up there by friends and neighbors, and the family spent the rest of the afternoon reminiscing among themselves as well as with a few friends of Harlan who dropped by. I tried to make myself scarce since I wasn’t part of the family, but eventually Evie came up to my room in search of me.

  “Why don’t you come downstairs with the rest of us?”

  “This is a day for just family.”

  “You are part of the family.”

  “Thanks. But wouldn’t you all rather just spend time together yourselves?”

  “No. Come on.”

  I accompanied her downstairs and went into the drawing room, where the family was assembled. Graydon was talking to Phyllis and Ruby in one corner, and Vivian sat with Heath on a couch. She was nursing what looked like a tall glass of water, but I suspected it was something much stronger. Heath looked up as Evie and I walked into the room. “Hi, Carleigh. We thought you had disappeared.”

  “I was up in my room. Vivian, how are you doing?”

  She sniffled and waved a small handkerchief in my direction. “About as well as can be expected,” she answered. Her normally cultured Southern drawl sounded a bit ragged and she looked terrible. Her hair, which was always coiffed and in place, was limp and dull. She wore mascara that had run, giving her the look of a hunted raccoon.

  “He was too young,” Vivian said to Heath, evidently continuing a conversation they had started before I appeared. “There were so many things he wanted to do. To accomplish.” Heath nodded in sympathy.

  “Mother, why don’t you go lie down?” asked Evie. “I think you’d feel better if you could rest.” She looked at me as if seeking my help somehow, but I didn’t know what to do. It was clear that Vivian needed a respite from grief. I shrugged slightly at Evie.

  Vivian shook her head. “I don’t want to rest. I want to stay down here with everyone else.”

  Graydon glanced up from his conversation with Ruby and Phyllis. He excused himself and walked over to sit next to Vivian. He put his hand on her knee. “Let’s you and me go for a horseback ride,” he suggested. “That would get us out of here and give us something to do.” She looked at him gratefully and gave him her hand. He pulled her up and together they walked out slowly, arm in arm.

  Evie watched them go with sad eyes. “Mother is devastated. I wish there was some way to take away her sadness.”

  “There isn’t, though. She’ll work through it. Once she gets back into the swing of things at work, she’ll have more to occupy her time and her mind, and she’ll start to heal,” Heath said.

  Evie sighed. “I hope you’re right.”

  Ruby and Phyllis came over to join us. “We’re going to make something light for dinner,” said Ruby. “Is anyone hungry?”

  “Thanks, ladies,” said Heath. “I could use a bite to eat. All I have at the carriage house is cheese. And maybe some graham crackers.” His remark broke the sadness for a few moments and we all trooped into the kitchen to talk while Phyllis and Ruby cooked. All the casseroles that the delightful Southern neighbors had brought to help the family in their time of mourning were delicious and greatly appreciated, but they were very heavy and rich. A light meal would be just the thing.

  Phyllis put together a salad of chilled salmon, greens, and lemon dressing, while Ruby took a loaf of homemade bread from the freezer, warmed it up, and sliced it. She had made a bowl of honey butter earlier in the week, and she put it out for us to slather on our bread. While the bread was warming, she whipped up a batch of benne wafers for a treat after the salad. Benne wafers, a delicacy made famous in South Carolina, are a sesame seed–coated cookie with brown sugar and salty notes. I had sampled both sweet and savory wafers, and I preferred the sweet. I hadn’t tried benne wafers before coming to South Carolina, and I had decided I never wanted to be without them again. They were caramely and nutty and simultaneously chewy and crunchy, and I loved them. They were Lucy’s favorite snack, and Ruby had very kindly made sure that she had two boxe
s of them to take to Florida—one for Lucy and one for my parents.

  We spent an easy time together, the five of us, and we carefully stayed away from the topic of Harlan’s violent death. I’m sure each of us was wondering about the perpetrator, but no one spoke about it. We talked instead about hurricane season and past storms and the tourist business in Charleston. When Graydon and Vivian came in from horseback riding, Vivian’s despair seemed to have lifted a bit and she was even able to join us for a bit of salad and some wafers.

  Heath stayed for a little while after dinner to talk to me in the drawing room, but he was very tired and wanted to get a good night’s sleep. He had to begin the process of working on Harlan’s will the next day, and he wanted to be fortified with lots of rest before then. He was also trying to keep up with all the paperwork and payroll for the farm without Cora-Camille. It was a daunting and time-consuming task. He said good night and promised to stop by to see me soon. He looked bone-weary.

  I went upstairs and wrote a letter to Lucy. She would love receiving mail at my parents’ house. I drew her a picture of Addie in the letter so she could show her grandparents her new best friend.

  CHAPTER 13

  The next day I started on the walls of the ballroom. I couldn’t wait to see them finished in their deep peacock blue. I wondered how the rest of the family would react when they saw the color Cora-Camille had chosen before her death.

  But Graydon and Ruby were now the owners of Peppernell Manor. I could have consulted them regarding the color of the walls, but I had a theory. If I showed them a swatch of the jewel tone that Cora-Camille had chosen, they might panic and think the color was too dramatic for the ballroom. If I went ahead and restored the walls with the rich hue, then they could see it in all its glory before forming an opinion of the color. At that point, if they didn’t like the color and wanted to change it, then at least they could have a chance to see the room as Cora-Camille had envisioned it.

  So I decided to go ahead, paint the room, and then ask everyone’s opinion. I got started right away. I spent the entire day taking down all the wooden trim around the windows and doorways in the ballroom and sitting room, just as I had done in the drawing room and the dining room. I sent them to the same shop in Charleston that had re-sanded all the other woodwork, then set up sawhorses in the basement to paint them when they were completed and returned.

  I would normally have kept the sawhorses in the garage, but no one had been allowed in there since the day of Harlan’s death. The police were still investigating and the space was still considered a crime scene. I hoped I would never have to go into the garage again, even after the crime had been solved and the person responsible had been brought to justice.

  When I was done working for the day, I found Heath waiting for me in the drawing room. “Want to go for another horseback ride after dinner? I need a couple hours off,” he told me.

  “Sure,” I replied happily. It would be nice to go horseback riding without having to worry about Lucy falling off and getting hurt.

  The family and I had dinner together in the dining room. It was slightly less gloomy than the previous days had been. Vivian had gone into her store that day and received a new shipment of antiques. She described them as “exquisite” and told us all about them and where they had come from. Graydon had spent the day locked in his office, working on some ideas for a new book. He bounced ideas around at dinner and we gave him our input and critiques. In all, it was a relatively normal meal, albeit without Harlan and Cora-Camille. Their absences were felt, but it was nice to talk of things other than death and violence.

  After dinner Heath and I drove over to the stables. I rode Chuck again and Heath climbed up onto Indigo’s back.

  “There’s a story behind every horse’s name,” I said. “What are the stories behind these two?”

  Heath held Indigo’s reins lightly and steered the giant horse down a dirt path that ran along the woods beyond the stable. I followed, a little less expertly.

  “Chuck is named after my grandfather. Gran called him Charles from the time they were first introduced, but all of his friends called him Chuck. Gran didn’t like the nickname and refused to acknowledge it. The horse’s name was kind of a joke. Gran loved Chuck.”

  “That’s a good story.”

  “And Indigo got her name because long before Peppernell Manor was a farm, it was a rice plantation. And before that, it was an indigo farm. Indigo used to be a very popular crop in South Carolina, but the industry eventually died out and lots of indigo fields became rice fields instead over the years. Indigo is sort of a nod to Peppernell Manor’s history.”

  “I like that.”

  “Everything around here is symbolic of some aspect of Peppernell Manor’s past.”

  “That’s why I love working here. I love learning the history of a place. And when I can incorporate it into my work, it’s even better. That’s part of the reason I’ve talked to Graydon about restoring the slave cabins.”

  “I don’t know whether Dad has made up his mind about that,” Heath replied. “You should ask him again.”

  “Well, with all that’s gone on lately, that issue has sort of been put on the back burner. And that’s fine with me. I have lots of other work to keep me busy.”

  “I don’t agree with the plan that Harlan had for the slave cabins, but I know Mother agreed with him. You may want to talk to Dad before Mother has a chance to persuade him to do what Harlan wanted simply for emotional reasons. If you’d like, I can talk to him,” he offered.

  “No, thanks. I’ll talk to him.” We rode along in silence for a while, listening to the quiet noises of the twilight. From a distance, a dog barked. Nearby, invisible frogs and crickets were croaking and chirping in a cacophony of rhythmic, peaceful sounds.

  “What a beautiful time of day,” I sighed. “Especially now since the evenings are a little cooler.”

  He nodded in agreement. “It’s a lot easier to work on the farm when the weather gets cooler. It’s brutal out there in the heat of the day in summer.”

  We rounded the far end of a field behind the stable and headed back along the other side of the long rows of autumn vegetables. The stable was barely visible in the darkness that had fallen. Its old-fashioned lamp glimmered faintly in the distance. Heath led the way through a narrower part of the path, then turned on Indigo’s back to wait for me.

  “I’ve been meaning to ask you something,” he said.

  “What is it?”

  “What are your plans for Thanksgiving?”

  I hadn’t even thought about Thanksgiving. “I suppose I’ll spend it with my parents in Florida. I’m hoping that by then everything here has gotten back to normal and Lucy is back with me. My parents will be dying to see her again.”

  “Oh.”

  “Why?”

  “I was wondering if you’d like to spend it here with me. With my family.”

  He had taken me by surprise. “I don’t know,” I answered truthfully. “I think we’ll have to wait and see what happens here and when I’m able to get Lucy back.”

  “Would you spend it here if you could?”

  “Sure. I’d like that.” I could see him smiling at me through the semidarkness. I marveled at how, so recently, I had shied away from any involvement with men. Suddenly I was talking about spending the holidays with Heath’s family, and it felt right and comfortable.

  We rode the rest of the way back to the stable in the quiet, and I dismounted into his arms, more gracefully than I had “dismounted” the first time I slid off Chuck. “Much better than last time!” Heath said, then he kissed me and laughed.

  I looked at him sternly. “You were never supposed to mention that again!” He took my hand and we walked back to the truck.

  Once again at the manor, I told him good night. He asked me to come to the carriage house for a bit, but I wanted to talk to Evie. I went straight up to her room.

  “What’s up?” she asked.

  “You co
ming downstairs?”

  “Sure. I thought you were out with Heath.”

  “I told him I needed to talk to you tonight instead.”

  “Wow—I must rate!”

  I grinned. “Come on. Want a glass of wine?”

  A few moments later we were seated facing each other on the sofa in the drawing room. Evie sighed. “This is just like the way it used to be. Just us girls.”

  “I feel almost guilty without Lucy here,” I told her. “But she’s safer with my parents.”

  “Are you going down to see her this weekend?”

  “Yes. I’ll leave at about three o’clock Saturday morning and be there by midmorning.”

  Evie changed the subject. “So, what’s up with you and Heath?”

  I could feel my face turning red. She laughed. “I like him,” I told her almost conspiratorially.

  “He is nuts over you,” she replied. “If you knew him as well as I do, you’d realize it. He has been totally anti-dating since he divorced Odeile. He never wanted to have to put up with another woman again. But now you’re here and all of a sudden he’s going horseback riding and finding excuses to come over to the main house and he bought a glider and you two are having these little chats under the stars on his patio . . .”

  “I came to South Carolina not wanting to date anyone because of my experience with Brad. But I feel so comfortable with Heath, it’s impossible to keep my promise to myself about no dating.”

  “Heath is great,” Evie told me. “He’s a gentleman, he’s respectful, he’s kind, he’s funny. Plus, he thinks the world of Lucy—what more could anyone ask for?”

  “Not a thing,” I answered truthfully.

  We engaged in girl talk for a while longer before going upstairs to our respective rooms. I could hear Addie barking outdoors as I got ready for bed. Once she quieted down, I listened to the sounds of the night through the open window. A breeze fluttered the curtains and the room felt cool and comfortable. I think I fell asleep almost instantly.

  I worked steadily for the next several days on the painting in the ballroom. When I stood back to look at the walls at the end of each day, I was very pleased with the progress. The room was vibrant—perfect for holding parties and balls, just as it had been in the 1800s. It took several coats of the peacock blue paint to completely cover the plaster, and then I got to work on the window and door trim, which had been returned from Charleston. The trim for this room wasn’t just paint; in consultation with Cora-Camille, I had ordered special strips of gold leaf and thin strips of brightly patterned rich blue fabric to add to the trim and complement the walls. The new strips would be fitted around the existing window and door trim and I was excited to see them completed. The textile shop owner had been out to the manor to make precise measurements, and she came out again, this time with several staff members, to supervise the hanging of the strips. When her crew had finished, she beamed with pride and took lots of pictures that she intended to display in her store.