A Haunting at Hensley Hall (A Ravynne Sisters Paranormal Mystery)

by Merabeth James

  “Hensley Hall! Big place and old long before I came there to tend those two. She didn’t trust doctors or hospitals…had her reasons…so they were born at home with just the midwife and me there. She had a hard time with the birthing, but they were both born healthy. Devon first by a minute or two. The mother never took much of an interest, which was fine by me. Never liked a lot of interference in the nursery.

  “But as time passed she took to Breanna, but never Devon. Dressed her up. Paraded her around. Quite the little miss she was, though I don’t think she liked it much. Breanna, that is. Mostly, she was her happiest when she was with her brother. The father, Lord Hensley the staff called him behind his back, though I thought he’d be pleased to hear it, was a big man in more ways than one. Big of stature…played college sports. Big in the community. Old family name and old family money. President of the bank. Wanted his son to be just like him, but…”

  “But?” Charlie prompted.

  “It didn’t happen. Son was slight of build and small for his age. No interest in sports. It was agony for him when his father took him down to the bank with him. ‘Devon his Disappointment’ is what he called him.

  “His father beat him, he said, ‘If it takes a good beating to bring him to heel, by God he’ll get one’. His very words. Used his cane on him, the one he liked to carry everywhere. Would beat him up in the schoolroom, then lock him in his room afterwards. Sometimes for days. I had my own key and took him food and dressed his wounds. Never cried like any normal boy would have. Just lay there and let me tend him without a word or a whimper. But then.he…”

  Charlie and Meg exchanged glances. “What is it, Nell? You can tell us,” Meg asked for both of them.

  Nell began rocking back and forth in her chair. “He did things. Mean things though I don’t think he meant to. He was just acting out…getting even with his father and his mother, too. She knew what was going on and never stopped him.”

  “What do you mean? What kind of things?” Charlie asked, her eyes narrowing.

  She sniffled and took the tissue Meg pulled out of the box on her bedside table “He hid one of his mother’s rings in the maid’s room and told on her. He didn’t like her for some reason. He told me what he’d done, after she was dismissed. I made him tell his mother the truth and I think he hated me for a while. I found my best dress slashed to ribbons.

  “Then one day a new neighbor brought their daughter over for a visit and Breanna and she took to each other as young girls will. Devon was jealous and pushed the girl into the rose bushes. She was scratched pretty badly, but Devon told everyone it was an accident. He had tripped and fallen against her.

  “There were other things. It went on and on. Mostly small, petty things that earned him a beating, though I think he would have gotten one anyway. But some were bad…real bad. Someone set rat traps in the barn next to a litter of kittens, the ones Breanna loved. She would plead with cook for scraps every day. They found two dead in the traps and one badly injured. They questioned Devon but he denied it, though no one believed him. They said he was jealous of the attention she gave them.

  “The stable incident was the worst. The master, he made us call him that, insisted they both take riding lessons. Breanna was a natural, but Devon never took to it. Then one day he was thrown and the stable boy, Tommy, no Timmy, caught him slashing the mare with a whip and told George, the stable master, who then told Devon’s father. Poor Timmy. He saved the mare from a beating, but she trampled him to death in her stall less than a month later.” Charlie slid a sidelong glance at Meg, who met her eyes.

  Charlie poured Nell a glass of water and handed it to her. “Please go on. We need to hear anything you can tell us.”

  “There were other things too. He liked to wander around at night…especially if the moon was out and usually took his sister with him. I remember what he said the first time I caught them sneaking down the back stairs. He said, ‘We like the feel of the night against our skin.’ And he smiled the kind of smile that made me wonder, if I knew who he was any more.”

  Charlie saw the beginning of an old horror bloom in her eyes and started to stop her, but she continued, “I was worried about them both. They were too close. It was unnatural! Always together, touching, finishing one another’s sentences and smiling at each other…smiles full of secrets that had me wondering.”

  She took a sip of water and handed the glass back to Charlie. There was a long pause before she continued. “I had the room next to the schoolroom, you know where I mean? The children had been moved down to their rooms on the second floor some time before, though I doubted the wisdom of it. But I had only my suspicions and I was afraid of branding the children with what might only have been my imagining. I continued to watch them…surprised the Hensleys kept me on with the children past the age of needing a nanny, but they did. I think they needed someone to keep an eye on Devon. But I failed them and, most of all, I failed Breanna.”

  Nell dropped her eyes to her brown speckled hands that were twisting the edge of her dress. Her voice was tremulous, when she whispered. “It was late at night when I heard a cry. It was faint and I thought I’d been dreaming, but then I heard a scream. Muffled but unmistakable. It was coming from below. I took the servants’ stairs to the second floor…it opened right outside their doors. I looked in Devon’s room but it was empty. I tried Breanna’s door, but it was locked. I began pounding and pounding on it over and over. Doors were opening all along the hall. Their father was headed my way, when Breana’s door opened and Devon stood there. He looked at me and smiled, ”You, too?“ Then he walked into his room and locked the door. The next day he was on his way to military school. She was sent to a private girls’ school in town. And I was dismissed,” she said, brushing away, with a trembling hand, the tears that streamed down her cheeks.

  Meg gathered the old woman in her arms, “ That was all a very long time ago, Nell. Please don’t distress yourself now.”

  Nell touched Meg’s cheek and smiled into her eyes, “You’re a good girl. You want to believe that people are like you. But if you believe in good you must also believe in evil. Especially if you want to live in Hensley Hall. Evil has left its mark there.”

  “Did you hear about what happened there later?” Charlie found herself asking.

  “I was gone, but I kept in touch with some of the staff, at least in the beginning, you know how it is. Devon didn’t last long in military school. Was back home in two months over some incident that nobody talked about. I read later about the murders and Breanna going missing. After that, I just didn’t want to hear any more. But I prayed for both children. Often wondered how things would have been if someone had given Devon what he craved so much…love…attention. What he got from me was not nearly enough and afterwards, when I discovered him in her room, he didn’t even have that,” she told them wearily.

  “I’m afraid we’ve quite worn you out, Nell. We’ll be going. Thank you for everything,” Meg said with a smile.

  “I hope it helps. Who are you again? I don’t think I know you,” she said looking from one to the other with a worried frown.

  “The Ravynne sisters and Freddie, remember? Why don’t you let us tuck you in for a nap?” Meg asked gently.

  She shook her head, “Plenty of time to sleep when I’m dead. You girls come back and bring your little dog. Like dogs. Just not messing about in the house. Always wanted one. Maybe I’ll get one when I get back home,” she said around an enormous yawn. She was already nodding off, as the sisters, quietly, exited the room.

  ***

  Both sisters were quiet until they climbed in the truck, started the motor and headed back home. “Well, we know more that we did,” Meg told her, fishing a chocolate bar out from under the seat. “I knew you’d be drooling over Nell’s box of chocolates, so I picked up a Hershey bar for you. Kind of squishy. I’ll feed you chunks while you drive otherwise we’ll probably end up in a ditch while you satisfy your feeding frenzy.”

  �
�How about less talking and more feeding,” Charlie told her pointedly. “At least we know his name now.”

  “Devon. Not evil enough. Damien would have been better.” Meg told her, moving the Hershey bar out of Freddie’s reach.

  “We know now he had sadistic tendencies and, if the trampling of Tommy was his doing, which I kind of lean towards, we know he was capable of murder,” Charlie told her.

  “Timmy not Tommy. We also know he was ‘Devon the Disappointment’ to his father, who beat him with a cane. Which was something I think I heard that first time we explored the schoolroom, but didn’t tell you.”

  “The reason being?’

  Meg smiled and popped a piece of chocolate into her sister’s mouth. “If I told you everything I’ve been hearing, feeling and now seeing, you’d be sleeping in your truck.”

  Charlie laughed. “You're probably right!”

  Meg frowned thoughtfully. “And then there is the ‘unnatural attachment’ as Nell called it. And the incident when he was found in her room.”

  “It appears this Devon was not a very likeable character all the way around, when you add murder and incest to his list of crimes.”

  “Don’t forget animal abuse…the mare and the kittens…and probably more we don’t know about,” Meg said. “You know how I feel about that sort of thing. Do you think this Devon is dead like everyone says? You didn’t feel, hear, or see him in your room last night, right?”

  “No, the only one who disturbed my sleep last night was you…you and Freddie,” Charlie told her pointedly.

  Meg popped a piece of chocolate into her own mouth. “If Devon is dead, wouldn’t you think he’d head back to Hensley Hall like a ghostly homing pigeon?”

  “I couldn’t agree more. Maybe he’s just not as demonstrative as Breanna and has yet to make an appearance? But, if he is alive, then who’s buried in the mausoleum?”

  “And where is Devon? I really don’t want to think he’s waiting to pay us a call,” Meg said with a worried frown.

  “That, my sister, makes two of us. Three if you count Freddie, since Devon has a proclivity for hurting animals.”

  “And killing people? Do you think he murdered those girls, and Breanna, since her ghost is hanging around wailing like a banshee?” Meg asked, chewing on her lower lip.

  “I think there is every possibility he murdered them all. And is probably still alive, but the only way to prove he isn’t in the mausoleum would be to have him exhumed and a DNA test ran. Which would have to match a sample from the house, but, since his room was stripped when we got there and then cleaned top to bottom by us, the likelihood of finding one is remote to nil. As far as fingerprints go, there can’t be enough left of him for that. Finally, I can’t help but think the local authorities will laugh themselves silly, if we ask for an exhumation order on the grounds he is not haunting us?”

  Meg pursed her lips and scowled. “When you put it that way, I suppose you’re right. But when has any obstacle kept you from stirring the pot? And don’t forget Breanna. I don’t think she’ll let us off the hook that easily. She really seems to need our help.”

  Charlie sighed and looked at her sister, who was staring down the road with her chin stuck out in the mutinous angle she knew well over the years. Meg was on a mission and there would no way to stop her. “’Can’t beat ’em, join ‘em’,” Charlie muttered under her breath. Meg’s smug smile told her she knew she had won, but, at least, she had the good sense to keep her mouth shut. For once!

  Time for a little redirection, Charlie thought wryly. “Let’s stop for supper and then we won’t have to argue over the cooking thing again. By the way, I think it’s time we thought about hiring a cook/housekeeper. Someone who won’t mind helping with the cleanup.”

  “You mean someone who will actually do windows caked with decades of grime?” Meg asked doubtfully, “such angels exist?”

  “You’re right. Maybe we should look for miracle worker/wonder woman instead? When we can afford her, which won't be any time soon from what I can see.”

  ***

  When they arrived home, it was just getting dark and the last of the work crew was pulling out. The house greeted them with a thrum of nervous energy, but remained quiet otherwise. No sly whispers, no moving shadows in places where shadows didn’t belong, but there was still an uncomfortable ‘awareness’ that shot a ripple of unease through them both. So they decided to raid the fridge and head up to their rooms.

  When Charlie emerged from her shower, a short time later, she found Meg sitting cross-legged on the foot of her bed with Freddie sprawled over her lap. She was reading a letter. Even from across the room, Charlie recognized the stationery and lavender ink. Opening the balcony door first, she padded across the floor and sat down on the edge of her bed. “So when did Sage’s letter arrive?”

  “Moe handed it to me before he left. He had to sign for it and hoped we didn’t mind, which of course we didn’t,” Meg returned with a smile.

  The kind of smile that Charlie had learned not to trust, at least not entirely. “And?”

  “Well, they’re all fine…great actually… and, of course, ask how we’re doing and send their love.”

  “And?” Charlie repeated.

  “It seems they also sent us a check”

  Charlie exploded. “A check! What for? You haven’t asked them for money have you, because I won’t have it! This is our house, our problem, or should I say problems. I won’t go running to them, just because we're feeling the water close over our heads just now!”

  “Drowning is not a good thing, Charlie. I don’t think I need to tell you that. And we’re headed there if we keep sinking money in this place. Besides, the check isn’t to bail us out. It’s…let me find it…she writes, ’It’s an ’ investment in your enterprise with a lot more likelihood of a decent return than a savings account these days'. Then she continues, ‘Your Dad is very excited and wants to start a new series of ghost stories that will scare the poop out of the little beggars…his words not mine. He wants to stay in your new house for inspiration. From what you’ve been telling me, Meg, it has plenty of ghosts to inspire him. And about that house cleansing I offered. I wish you would reconsider’. Anyway, she goes on and on,” Meg told her.

  “Maybe some of our spirits don’t want to go to be cleansed? Maybe they’re content just hanging around a place they loved,” Charlie told her, then found herself asking against her will, “how much?”

  Meg handed the check to her and watched her eyes widen. “With this kind of investment we can gladly offer them half of everything and won’t have to worry about money for a long time,” Charlie managed to say.

  “Sounds good to me. I’m glad you’re not mad. I know how proud you are of your independence, so I didn’t dare show you the letter right away. I needed to pick the right time and now seems as good a time as I’m likely to find.”

  “I see. I thought we’d had a discussion about you tip toeing around on eggshells? Do I need to chase you around again with the plant mister? When are Dad and Sage coming?” Charlie asked with a laugh.

  “Not for quite a while, judging from their list of prior commitments, though Sage said she’d drop everything and take the next plane out if we needed her…um…talents.” They both pictured Sage flying to their rescue and smiled. “There is something you should consider, though. Why don’t we move you to the room across the hall, or on the other side of me? Your staying here in Devon’s room gives me the creeps now that we know what we do about him.”

  “No, I like this room and the tower. But I would consider switching out the bed in the morning,” Charlie told her.

  “You don’t think we need to worry about Devon, do you?” Meg asked.

  “You mean showing up here? Killing us in our sleep? I would think this would be the last place he’d want to be. With Breanna dead…quite probably at his hands…what would be the point?”

  “Not to mention the ghost of his father. I know he’s here, too,” Meg to
ld her, dropping her voice to a whisper.

  “That sort of clinches it then, doesn’t it? He hated his father with good cause and, quite probably his mother, too. So I don’t really think we have a thing to worry about…at least from that quarter.”

  “I hope you’re right.”

  "Me, too!" Charlie muttered under her breath

  ***

  It was quite late by the time the sisters had finished talking about their future plans and the upcoming family visit. It was time to take Freddie down for what was, hopefully, his last ‘emptying’ of the night. Charlie went with her. They took the servants’ stairs down to the kitchen and, while Meg released Freddie into the shrubbery, Charlie foraged through the fridge.

  By the time Meg returned, she had two slices of chocolate cake waiting on the table. Meg rummaged in the fridge and fed Freddie the bits of chicken she found there, before she sat down next to her sister. “I think I heard something rustling in the bushes that wasn’t Freddie.”

  Charlie considered what she’d said over a forkful of chocolate frosting. “It’s not Devon, if that’s what you’re worried about. Probably some small animal. Remember we have more than ten acres of overgrown yard that could easily accommodate any number of wild animals.”

  “That kind of remark isn’t very helpful, you know. Besides, I never said I thought it was Devon, I just said I heard a noise,” Meg retorted peevishly.

  After that, they finished their cake in silence, then headed back up the stairs to the second floor. Opening the door at the top, they stepped into the hall, which was darker than they’d left it. The sconces at the far end did not appear to be lit. Or so they thought. Then something moved. An almost opaque black mass churned and swirled, then began to head towards them.

  Freddie bristled and growled, then hid behind Meg’s legs. “Are you seeing what I’m seeing?” Charlie whispered.

  Meg could barely speak around the lump in her throat. “And hearing. A thump…thump…thump like someone with a cane coming this way.”