The Ghosts at Pemberley

by Fenella J Miller

  ‘I was not intending to take a horsewhip to them, if that was what you thought. They are little more than boys who have drunk too much and thought it would be a lark to upset the young lady. The three of us should be enough to terrify them without resorting to fisticuffs.’

  ‘A tongue-lashing should suffice, then toss them out into the snow. By the time they find their way back in they should be sober and suitably chastened, don’t you think?’ Jonathan was well used to disciplining soldiers and had only resorted to flogging if there was no other option.

  ‘I think it might add to their discomfort if we hemmed them in and then removed our jackets. We are a formidable trio, all of us over two yards high and with an impressive width of shoulder too.’ Adam was enjoying this escapade, it reminded him of the good times in the service of his Majesty, when comrades-in- arms acted together.

  They could hear the chink of glasses, inebriated laughter and slurred conversation quite clearly as they approached the grand dining room. Darcy smiled and waved Adam forward. It would appear that he and Jonathan were to take centre stage in this play.

  They paused outside and then, at his signal, flung the doors back. They smashed against the wall causing the three villains to leap to their feet. What followed was more farce than drama. When faced by three huge, furious opponents the bravado of the young men collapsed.

  Adam found it difficult to keep his scowl in place. Jonathan stepped forward and gave the perpetrators a dressing-down they would never forget. There was no need to remove their jackets, all that was necessary was a bit of flexing of muscles and the young men were reduced to blubbering apologies.

  Darcy took over. ‘You will remove yourselves from my house immediately. If I hear you are within these walls we will return and give you the thrashing you well deserve.’

  Without a murmur of dissent they shuffled in the direction they were pointed and when Darcy opened the door they stepped out into the icy darkness like sheep to the slaughter. He slammed and bolted the door behind them. ‘Well, gentlemen, that was fun. Let us hope they do not freeze to death out there before they realise they can find warmth and shelter in any one of the barns or coach houses.’

  Adam collapsed against the wall shaking with laughter. It was several minutes before they had recovered sufficiently from their merriment to make their way back to the Great Hall. Darcy had said he would speak to Thorogood and explain what had taken place – not the details – just that his son and his nephews had been ejected for drunkenness but would come to no harm outside.

  ‘I need to speak to you about something far more dangerous, Jonathan, but it can wait until tomorrow. I cannot tell you, my friend, how pleased I am to have you here. I think your military expertise might well be needed in the next few days.’

  Chapter Twenty-one

  When Kitty awoke the next morning Georgiana was still asleep on the far side of the vast bed. The fire flickered in the darkness and the tick of the overmantel clock seemed loud. The hour was too early to rise, but she was wide awake and had no wish to remain in bed.

  Carefully she slipped out from between the covers, pushed her feet into waiting slippers and shrugged on her warm robe. There was no need to light a candle, she could see perfectly well by firelight. She had enjoyed last night and so had the rest of the guests – she smiled to herself – apart from the unfortunate young men who had been turned out into the cold for upsetting Miss Denning.

  Fortunately Sir Nigel Thorogood had thought their punishment appropriate and had left his son and nephews to languish outside for a full two hours before sending a footman to find them. They had been discovered shivering in the stable and on their return had behaved impeccably, but steered a very wide berth around Fitzwilliam, Adam and Major Brownstone.

  She wandered into the sitting room, stirred the fire with the poker then added some logs and half a scuttle of coal. Satisfied she would soon be warm enough, she searched the bookshelf for something to occupy her time until the morning chocolate was fetched or Georgiana woke up.

  There was nothing of interest remaining on the shelves as they had been packed away ready for the move. Pemberley books were being left in the library, removing them from the shelves would require cataloguing and there was no time to do that. Perhaps she would venture downstairs, the back way of course, and find something to read from the shelves in there.

  On glancing at the pretty ormolu clock she discovered the time to be a little after half past five. Good heavens, she had only been asleep for a few hours. She doubted even a staff as efficient as those at Pemberley would be up and about so early, and the house would be in disarray.

  The door behind her opened and her friend walked in rubbing her eyes. ‘Shall I ring for our chocolate, I know it is early, but I heard you out here and thought we could do with something to keep us going until we break our fast at half past ten.’

  ‘I have no wish to wake anyone up, why don’t we get dressed and go down to the kitchens and make it for ourselves.’

  ‘That is a wonderful idea, I have never visited the kitchens before, and once we move away might never have the opportunity to do so again. I am sure there is something in our wardrobes that is both warm and serviceable and does not require the assistance of either Ellie or Annie.’

  Once they were ready they took a candlestick each and set off through the sleeping house, down the oak staircase, and then headed for the bowels of the building. Kitty was impressed by the spaciousness of the servants’ quarters in which there were too many rooms to count. With an indoor staff of almost one hundred souls it was hardly surprising there was so much accommodation.

  ‘The kitchen is just along this corridor, although I have never been here, I can remember my governess explaining where it was.’

  ‘We could have found it by using our noses, I can smell the dough for today’s bread. I expect a kitchen

  maid will be along shortly to put it in the bread oven, so we had better not be too long; I have no wish to be found where we should not be.’

  The kitchen was immaculate, no sign of there having been food prepared for over fifty people last night. They discovered a substantial pantry with cool, slate shelves upon which stood jugs of fresh milk. Of the chocolate needed to make their drink there was no sign. They decided to settle for hot milk with cinnamon and sugar instead. Kitty also found a plum cake and cut two generous slices to take up with them.

  ‘I don’t think we shall need more than one tray, Georgiana. One of us can carry that and the other the candles. I wonder how the chambermaids manage – I suppose that they must take a companion to open the doors for them.’

  They had just regained their own apartment when Kitty distinctly heard steps outside. The tray wobbled and the jug of chocolate slopped. Hastily she placed it on a convenient table. ‘There is somebody in the passageway. It does not sound like Bingley or Jane, I think they are workmen’s boots we can hear.’

  ‘Why should they be wandering about outside our rooms at this time of the morning? Do you dare to investigate?’

  Kitty shook her head vehemently. ‘Absolutely not! I am going to enjoy my drink and cake and wait for daylight. Then I shall be happy to take a look, but I have no intention of going out there in the dark when we have no idea to whom the footsteps belong.’

  ‘Well, it cannot be a ghost as they are all gentlemen and do not wear work boots.’ She pursed her lips and frowned. ‘Actually, I’m not sure if ghosts have footsteps. You are the resident expert on these matters, Kitty dearest, so must tell me how things are.’

  The conversation and was so ridiculous they both laughed. ‘I have heard shuffling and dragging noises but now that you mention it, nothing else at all. I hear their voices in my head, I feel an intense cold when they are near me, and they have the power to transport a human from place to place. But I cannot remember ever hearing their footsteps. You are quite right, it is an overenthusiastic workman out there and nothing more sinister.’

  The matter settled satis
factorily she poured out a cup of milk for each of them and they munched through the plum cake with pleasure. When every crumb had gone and every drop was drunk, dawn had arrived and there was sufficient light coming in from the huge windows at the far end of the corridor to allow them to venture out without their candles.

  The wall sconces had long since burnt out, no doubt an industrious footman would be sent round to replace the candles before they were needed again. Kitty remained where she was for a moment, breathing in the atmosphere, trying to decide if there were any unwelcome visitors in the vicinity.

  ‘I am certain we are perfectly safe to go and investigate the hammering even though it is taking place on the gallery. I cannot imagine what possessed this carpenter to begin work so early in the day and risk waking everybody up.’

  ‘I expect they have so many cases and chests to construct they will not get the task completed in time for our move if they do not work from dawn to dusk. Look ahead, Kitty, our path is quite blocked by a huge structure made of bits of sawn timber.’ She pointed to where the passageway opened up into the gallery and Kitty could see it would be almost impossible to venture past without there being a danger the stack would collapse. ‘They must have been working all night to bring in so much wood. For I am certain it was not here yesterday. I am not sure Fitzwilliam was correct in allowing the carpenters to work inside. It is quite unprecedented.’

  ‘Lizzy explained that the cases and boxes being made to store our valuables must be bone dry inside or the paintings and sculptures will be ruined so I suppose it makes sense to have the men inside. After all, we have no wish to traverse the gallery anymore.’ They had now reached the timber waiting to be turned in to packing cases. ‘There must be at least two workmen up here, one can hardly hear oneself speak above the noise they are making. Do you wish to go any further or shall we return to our apartment?’

  ‘We have come far enough,’ Georgiana said. ‘I have no wish to get in the way of such industry. Fortunately Jane and Bingley will be too far away to be disturbed by the racket.’

  They were about to turn back when a sudden shout, as if someone had injured themselves, made them pause. Without a second thought they both raced towards the sound. Georgiana rushed forward and, in her hurry to get past the obstruction, became entangled with the end of a piece of wood and fell forwards. The stack toppled sideways burying her beneath it. The timber cascaded like a row of dominoes and suddenly the air was rent by the hideous sound of splintering wood and the despairing cries of those sent head first down the marble staircase followed by dozens of cases and chests.

  With a horrified scream Kitty leapt forward and began to tear at the loose planks. ‘Georgiana, Georgiana, can you hear me? Oh please God, do not let her be harmed.’

  The noise from the accident had roused Bingley and he arrived at her side in his nightshirt. ‘Stand aside, let me do it. I shall get to her more quickly. You must rouse King and Brownstone, this is the most horrendous catastrophe and it will require more than myself to rescue those buried beneath the debris.’

  ‘Please hurry, she might be gravely injured under there.’ Kitty scrambled to her feet and ran through the house to the West Wing to be faced by two rows of closed bedchamber doors, with no idea in which Adam and the major were sleeping. Should she start at one end and work her way down or stand in the passageway and shout?

  She would knock on a door and pray that whoever answered might know in which room Adam was sleeping. The doors were in pairs, one larger than the other, and the smaller one was the entrance to the bedchamber. It would be a shocking breach of etiquette to bang on a gentleman’s bedroom door but she cared not a jot for that.

  She knocked sharply on the first door in the row and immediately she heard someone approaching. The door opened and Adam was standing there in his unmentionables and nothing else. ‘There has been a terrible accident and Georgiana is buried under a pile of timber on the gallery – you and the major must come at once. Bingley is already there.’

  ‘Fetch Darcy. We will be with you directly.’ He slammed the door. For a few seconds she was immobile, not sure if it was the shock of seeing him half-naked, or his abruptness, that had given her palpitations. Then common sense reasserted itself and she picked up her skirts and raced along the passageway, down the oak staircase, and was about to run to wake Darcy when she spied the dinner gong.

  She grabbed the beater and hammered on it a dozen times hoping this would wake the staff. When she skidded to a halt outside Lizzy and Darcy’s bedchamber she was breathless, but found the energy to bang on the door.

  This was flung open by Darcy who was bootless, but at least had his shirt on. She gabbled out her message and was about to run back to help with the rescue when he reached out and grabbed her arm. ‘No, my dear, you must stay here with Lizzy. Leave matters to us. I heard the gong and was already getting dressed. I shall send my valet for the doctor.’

  She hesitated, not sure in which direction to go for she could hardly walk into his bedchamber. He pulled her inside and pushed her gently towards the communicating door. ‘Wait in the sitting room, Lizzy will be with you soon.’

  *

  Adam and Jonathan were ready in minutes – soldiers were well used to turning out to fight at a moment’s notice. Neither of them bothered to put on their jackets, shirtsleeves were the order of the day.

  ‘This is a damnable business, Jonathan, it has to be connected to the unpleasantness I told you about last night. I pray Georgiana is not seriously hurt.’ He pounded through the house and saw Bingley on his knees, and in his nightshirt, frantically throwing pieces of wood in all directions.

  ‘Bingley, we shall take over. Get dressed, you will injure yourself if you continue as you are.’

  ‘I shall not go until we have got her out. She has made no sound. I fear she has been crushed.’

  Adam nodded to his friend and together they took Bingley’s elbows and lifted him aside. ‘Get dressed, Bingley, that’s an order.’

  This time the man nodded. Few were brave enough to disobey when Adam gave an instruction. ‘We must lift these large planks first, there is little point in pulling out the smaller ones.’

  They worked methodically without the need for conversation. He sent up a fervent prayer to God that the girl was safe beneath this pile of wood and her silence was not as ominous as he feared. Darcy joined them and did not waste time asking for an explanation, just waited to be told how he could help.

  Soon the larger pieces were stacked to one side and a surge of joy flooded through him. Somehow the timber had fallen diagonally leaving the girl cocooned in a small, safe space ‘Look, Darcy, we have found her, we will reach her in a moment.’

  ‘Georgiana, sweetheart, are you hurt?’ Darcy spoke softly to the still shape, but received no response. ‘Give me a light, King, we need to see if she is injured before we attempt to move her.’

  ‘I think she is merely stunned, Darcy, I can see no blood and her limbs are not twisted. You continue to talk to her whilst we clear a larger space so you can pull her out safely.’

  Why was the girl so still? He had a bad feeling – he had seen soldiers with not a mark on them stone dead after such an accident as this. Five minutes passed before sufficient room had been made for Darcy to crawl in to his sister.

  Only then did Adam become aware he could hear shouting from somewhere on the other side of the pile of broken cases and chests, from the way the voices echoed these men must be at the bottom of the staircase. He was at a loss to understand why there was so much timber piled in the gallery, but now was not the time to ponder about trivialities.

  He crouched down beside Jonathan. ‘Darcy, how is she? Do you need our assistance to bring her out?’

  ‘I have her, she is breathing evenly and I can see no obvious injuries. I am coming now.’

  The remaining timber creaked ominously as Darcy began to inch backwards with his precious burden. Adam and Jonathan braced themselves against the wood. When Darcy e
merged Jonathan reached down and lifted the unconscious girl from the floor which allowed her brother to regain his feet.

  The passageway was now filled with anxious watchers. Word had spread amongst the other guests and the gentlemen were fully dressed and ready to assist in any way they could.

  ‘She has a good colour, Darcy, I’m certain she has come to no serious harm.’

  ‘Thank you, Brownstone, I shall take her to her apartment.’

  He strode away with the girl in his arms leaving Adam to speak to the assembled guests. ‘I fear there may be workmen trapped as well. There are men the other side of the obstruction looking for survivors, we must continue to clear the gallery.’

  No one argued, and soon he and Jonathan had organised a team and they were working methodically towards the head of the stairs. Once the loose timber had been removed it was easier to move forward.

  ‘We are almost there, I can see the balustrade, our work will be completed soon.’

  His willing assistants had been stacking as they went and Adam could now see how this disaster had occurred. The carpenters had brought in the cut timber from the barn and arranged it by length against the wall. The containers for the paintings and other valuables were being constructed in the open space of the gallery. Those that had been completed had been left at the head of the stairs to be taken wherever they were needed.

  When Georgiana had fallen into the loose timber this had caused one thing to fall against another and whoever had been standing in the way must have been swept down the marble staircase and buried under the finished articles. There was no one on the gallery, but he could hear someone moaning under the debris on the staircase.

  He raised his voice and shouted down to those attempting to reach the injured men from the other direction. ‘How many are trapped under this?’

  ‘Three, sir, the gaffer and two from the village. I don’t reckon we can reach them from our side,’ someone called back.