Lady Arabella

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by W. H. Cann

William’s spirit twisted and wavered. He felt as if he was falling, rushing downward to death, but then his spirit snapped into his prostrate body. William took a sudden deep gasp of breath, frightening his wife and those with her.

  “William, what happened?” she asked anxiously, tears flooding from her eyes. “I thought you were having a heart attack.”

  She helped William up into a sitting position while he recovered.

  “I doubt anyone would believe me if I told them, except you.”

  His wife stared at him with intrigue, but the others gazed at him curiously.

  Aiden and Eloise helped him into the curator’s office and as Phillippa, the curator’s assistant, made them all a cup of tea, William told them of his experience. To his surprise, none of them doubted or disbelieved him.

  “You don’t appear very surprised by this Aiden,” said William.

  “That’s because I am not surprised. It actually confirms my suspicions and the stories about the abbey.”

  William frowned. “Then Michael was right all along.”

  Aiden laughed. “Yes, he was. At the end of my first month as curator, I arrived extra early one morning to check on the abbey, following a fairly nasty storm the night before. There were several fallen trees, branches all over the place, and, tucked in between two of the buttresses at the back of the abbey, was the body of a middle aged man. He was also an historian, much like yourselves, but not so well known. David Mallory, I seem to recall, a pleasant man, very knowledgeable about abbeys and churches. He also believed the stories about ghosts. There were also several other people who disappeared in the abbey or its grounds, but it was dismissed and not made public knowledge: Bad for local business.”

  “Yes, I saw him amongst the spirits of the villagers.”

  “Poor man,” said Phillippa as she handed William a cup of tea, for which he was grateful.

  The small group talked about the history of the abbey, including the tales of a massacre of innocent people. William then told them what Lady Arabella and Father Tomos had told him regarding their final days, filling in some of the missing information from the historical writings they all knew about.

  “Well, that proves the letter is genuine alright,” said Aiden. “What a tragedy for Sir Pitern and his daughter. Sir Feltchor was the traitor after all.”

  “It would appear so, but his crime was never exposed, which brings me to reveal something very important,” said William. “Sir Feltchor’s actions are the direct cause behind the presence of the spirits here in the abbey.”

  “To free Lady Arabella’s spirit, along with the others you have mentioned, I presume the truth about Sir Feltchor and what happened here must be told,” said Phillippa.

  “Exactly,” said William. “That however, is only one of the pre-requisites. Some may object to the other, but I agree it must be done.”

  “And that is?” asked Aiden.

  “All skeletal remains must be laid to rest properly, anointed and blessed. All names and details of the incident recorded in the annals of the abbey, and their names are to be engraved on headstones and tombs.”

  “I agree with you on that William,” said Aiden rubbing his chin. “I’m sure I can get the bishop to agree as well, and perhaps he will perform the blessing.”

  “As it’s getting late, I think we should make a start on transferring the skeletal remains from the cases into coffins first thing in the morning. I’m sure another night will not cause the spirits any undue anguish,” said Eloise.

  William agreed. He was too tired to do anything else. “No it won’t, not anymore.”

  The two archaeologists awoke the following morning to another bright sunny day, and William had a feeling everything was going to be perfect. After a good breakfast they headed for the abbey, and were not surprised to see several more coffins lying on the grass outside the main door. Aiden was talking on his mobile phone looking quite cheerful.

  “Ah, there you are,” he said putting his phone back in his pocket. “Great news, the bishop will be coming here next Monday. He has given his permission and approval, and will undertake the anointing and burial service himself.”

  Eloise looked concerned. “Next Monday?”

  “It’s the only time the bishop can make it,” said Aiden.

  “In that case, we had better extend our booking at the guest house.”

  “Why don’t you go and sort that out while I make a start here,” suggested William.

  “Alright then, I won’t be long,” she said smiling.

  Phillippa smiled as she passed Eloise. “I’ll have a cup of tea waiting for you.”

  “That’ll be lovely, thank you.”

  “Phillippa, the bishop is coming for the service, and he’s very excited about it all,” said Aiden.

  “That is good news, although I am surprised he’s excited,” she replied.

  “Why is that?” asked William.

  “Because he’s a direct descendent of Sir Pitern, and he has been studying the history of the abbey and the area, hoping to uncover more about the death of his ancestor,” said Aiden.

  “What a strange coincidence,” said Phillippa.

  William smiled. “I don’t believe any of this is pure coincidence, not now, not after meeting the spirit of Lady Arabella.”

  “Well, what are we hanging around for? Let’s get to work,” said Aiden.

  “You took the words right out of my mouth,” said William.

  The rest of the week passed quickly, but they managed to complete most of the required tasks by Friday evening. The skeletal remains were placed in coffins, which were then put in the abbey for protection and safety, and the tombs had been dug by the local contractor, who was also building the new retaining wall to prevent further landslides. The contractor promised the retaining wall would be finished by Monday, having agreed to work over the weekend, and the small wall surrounding the tomb would be finished by Saturday lunchtime.

  Flowers and shrubs were planted around the tomb, the grave where the villagers would be buried, and when the retaining wall was finished, more would be planet along the top. Numerous villagers helped with the planting and general tidying of the abbey grounds, and some of the farm labourers helped to repair the river bank which had been damaged by the flood waters.

  Each day William walked along the north aisle, entered the three naves, and sensed the presence of the spirits each time. On several occasions, the spirit Lady Arabella appeared, smiling warmly at him, her eyes sparkling, but she never spoke to him. He was unsure whether she was unable to, or chose not to, but that was not important; her smile said enough.

  Thankfully, Monday was yet another bright and sunny day, and by eleven o’clock, the bishop had performed all of the required services and blessings. Afterward, the bishop insisted William tell him everything that had happened and what he had been told by the spirits. He nodded, asked a few questions, but was genuinely interested and to the surprise of the local vicar, accepted it all.

  “All this talk of spirits and death makes me nervous,” said Reverend Jonathon. “Should we not conduct a cleansing or an exorcism?”

  The bishop frowned. “Why would we do such a thing? Do you not believe in ghosts, Reverend?”

  “They are evil spirits come to torment us, to deceive us, and destroy our faith in the one true God.”

  The bishop laughed. “Reverend Jonathan, I am a simple man, a true believer, but I sincerely believe that spirits do exist, and that they are not of the devil. If I am not mistaken, by this coming Sunday, the spirits that have roamed this abbey for centuries will be at peace. They will be at rest until judgement day comes to claim us all, and no one will see them here again.”

  “Now, Dr. William Cairnby, have you written down what Father Tomos told you about the death of Lady Arabella, himself and those who were gathered here on that fateful Sunday?”

  “I have.” He passed the document to the bishop. “Professor Harding has also provided me with copies of the letter w
ritten by Sir Pitern, and several other written accounts of the events, as witnessed by soldiers and villagers of the time.”

  “When did they appear Dr. Cairnby?” asked the curator.

  “Surprisingly enough, from the estate of Sir Feltchor. Sir Simon Feltchor himself was scouring through chests and storage boxes in the attic of Peldorn Manor. He found reference to a secret passage that had been long forgotten. On investigating further, he uncovered another chest that contained priceless valuables that once belonged to the Pitern family, along with several letters and witness statements. He was shocked at what he read, but it confirmed the rumours that had been passed down through the family. It appears that Sir Peter Feltchor’s youngest son despised his father because of Peter’s treatment of his mother, Hermione. Frederick took the treasures his father stole from Sir Pitern’s estate, along with the letters and hid them, presumably to use against his father at a later date. A month after the killings, Frederick died of a fever, and so the truth remained hidden, until now.”

  “Now the truth can be revealed, and the stain removed from the family of Sir Pitern, but will it be enough.”

  William nodded. “Yes, I do believe it will.”

  After having lunch at the ‘Abbey Inn’, William and Eloise returned to the abbey carrying several bunches of flowers. Other villagers had already placed flowers on the graves, but the two archaeologists believed it was important they did so too. They walked up the tomb of Lady Arabella just as the last of the villagers was leaving. His wife placed her bunch at the foot of the tomb, kissed her husband on the cheek and walked away, leaving him alone for a few moments. She stopped and watched discreetly from a distance.

  “Well Lady Arabella, all you requested has been done. The Feltchor family has acknowledged Sir Peter’s involvement in the murders, and they have returned the stolen items to your descendents. You may now rest in peace.” He knelt and touched the cold stone of the tomb. “Although justice cannot be meted out sufficiently to recompense for what happened, I sincerely hope it’s enough for you to find peace and rest.”

  William stood up and sighed. He leant forward and run his fingers across Lady Arabella’s name carved into the stone. As he closed his eyes, a few tears of joy and sorrow run down his cheek and dripped onto the stone. He sensed a presence nearby, turned, and saw Lady Arabella standing a little way off, smiling warmly. She looked more beautiful in the sunlight, and there was a new radiance about her. Her green eyes that matched the colour of her dress sparkled with life.

  “Hello William,” she said as she approached him.

  “Hello Lady Arabella. I did not expect to see you again.”

  “How could I not come to offer my gratitude to the one who set me free from pain and torment? I, we are in your debt forever, not that we will be able to recompense you in anyway.”

  “That will not be necessary. I did what had to be done because I was able to do it. I am pleased to have been able to help.”

  “You are a remarkable man, William,” she said and caught sight of his wife watching from a distance. She turned her head to look in her direction, gave one short nod and smiled at Eloise. “Your wife is very beautiful, and my pendent is quite fitting for one such as she.”

  William looked at her through wide eyes.

  “Not much happens in the abbey grounds that passes me by, William. I knew you found the two caskets, both of which contained items stolen from my home.”

  “Then you shall have it back, along with everything else.”

  “Not at all. I am pleased your wife likes it so much, and I give it as a token of my gratitude. The rest, I leave with you to do whatever you feel is right. No one will question you or prevent you from taking whatever you or your wife desires.”

  “It is not so simple, not now.”

  “It is if no one knows of its existence. There are only two others who know of it, and they will soon forget ever having seen what you placed in the curator’s safe.”

  “My conscience may not allow me to take more, but so as not to offend, perhaps one or two items.”

  Lady Arabella smiled, her eyes sparkling with delight. She reached up and caressed William’s cheek. “I can see why Eloise loves you so much.”

  As she moved her hand away, a single tear run down her cheek. As it fell from her chin it turned into a beautiful butterfly that flew up and landed on William’s hand. It opened its wings wide, fluttered them a few times, and then vanished.

  William felt a warm sensation flowing up his arm. “What just happened?”

  She smiled warmly. “A part of my spirit is now within you so you will always remember me. As long as you live, William Cairnby, the flowers on my grave will never cease to bloom, not even in winter.”

  Lady Arabella stepped forward and embraced him as tightly as a lover would, and then kissed him tenderly. The true depth of her appreciation and gratitude was evident in the touch of their lips.

  William felt more alive than ever before, more in tune with life and nature, and he was able to sense her presence within his own spirit.

  As she parted, she smiled. “Thank you William,” she said, her smile lightening up her face. She blew another kiss and disappeared from sight, leaving a permanent mark on William’s life.

  He stood silently, pondering what had occurred, hardly believing any of it. “I promise never to forget you, Lady Arabella.”

  Unknown to William, the curator had joined his wife, and both were watching in amazement the whole time. Eloise walked up to her husband and put her hand on his shoulder. “William, are you okay?”

  “Of course I am,” he said smiling at her.

  “That was Lady Arabella wasn’t it?”

  William nodded.

  “She was very beautiful. Is she, are they at peace now?”

  “They are.” William turned to face his wife. “Tell me it was real and not just a dream.”

  “It was real, and so was Lady Arabella, but it’s over now, so we can go home having learnt far more than we ever expected to.”

  “That we did.” William knew he would never forget Lady Arabella, would always feel as if she were close by, but at peace, a peace he felt deep within his own soul.

  ###

  I would like to thank you for purchasing and reading this book. If you enjoyed it, please consider taking a little time to share your thoughts by leaving feedback on your retailer’s website. Your opinion is important both to myself and to other readers

  Books By W. H. Cann

  General fiction

  Island of Heartache

  Lady Arabella

  The Guardians Series

  Book 1: Path to Vengeance

  Book 2: Sorcerer’s Duel

  Book 3: A Guardian Reborn

  Book 4: Storm Conjurer

  Book 5: Wizard’s Tempest (coming soon)

  More information on these and future books can be found at https://www.whcann.co.uk/

  If you have any questions, comments or suggestions, please visit my website.

 


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