She rapped on the door again. Barnsley appeared a mere second later.
‘Sorry, Mr Barnsley, I forgot one question … has anyone else been asking questions about Stanthorpe House or the ghost recently?’
Barnsley stepped out into the sunshine. ‘Not in recent times. A gentleman came by, well over a year ago. I believe he thought the ghost was due to appear at that time. He seemed very disappointed when I told him he was mistaken.’
‘Do you remember his name?’
He shook his head slowly. ‘Not as I recall. Never seen him before or since. Said he was from up Oxford way.’
‘Thanks.’ She again bade farewell and headed for the main road.
So someone had known …
One thing she had to admit was that Barnsley had confirmed the phantom’s story – if only as one of the possibilities. Tonight she vowed to sit vigil before the mirror until he appeared and demand more details that could be verified. Then when she made her trip to the archives she would have enough information to bring the little charade completely undone.
Taking a leisurely walk down Ock Street, she took in the sights of the ancient town.
A tiny shop caught her eye. Stones, like the ones she’d found on her windowsill, were displayed in front. She’d meant to ask Nancy about them but this morning they’d disappeared from where she’d left them outside her room.
A tiny bell tinkled as she pushed open the shop door. The heaviness of incense filled the air.
‘Help you?’ asked a short, bespectacled woman with skin like wrinkled parchment.
‘Yes,’ Kelly smiled. ‘I was wondering about those little stones in the window.’
The woman came around the counter leaning heavily on a dragon-headed cane. ‘Them’d be runes.’
‘Runes?’ Kelly had a vague memory she’d heard the word before, but she couldn’t recall from where.
‘Yes. Runes.’
‘What are they for?’
‘Weel, that’d be depending … some say they be for a’writing – like an alphabet. Others, them’d do magicking and spells and such. You might use ’em for protecting … or to attract good fortune. Or a’making hexes.’ She ducked back around the counter and began rummaging around below. ‘I got me some pamplets here a’somewheres.’
Seconds later she straightened, triumphant.
‘Here you go, lassie.’ She handed across a thin sheet. ‘You might want to be a’looking in the books about druids too.’ She pointed a gnarled finger at a bookstand beside the end of the counter.
Hmmm. Druids. I should probably find out about those eggs on the mantle as well.
After purchasing two books, Kelly headed out into the sunshine.
On East St Helen Street she spied a pub, the Ram’s Horn. Since it was about lunchtime, it appeared the best place to stop and sample some of the local delights while doing some research. And it had been years since she’d indulged in an old-fashioned mug of beer.
Just as she was about to push the front door open, she thought she heard her name being called.
Looking about, she recognised no one and shook her head. Who could I possible know?
‘Kelly!’
Now she was sure she heard it. Again she looked around then suddenly Richard appeared alongside her as if by magic.
‘Where did you come from?’ she asked, not bothering to hide her shock.
‘Had a meeting at the Town Council. What brings you here?’
‘I’m doing a little research on Stanthorpe House.’
‘Ahhh,’ he nodded sagely, ‘been to see old man Barnsley, I expect.’
‘Yes.’
Reaching around her, he pushed the pub door open. ‘Let me buy you lunch since we’re both here, and afterward, if you’ve finished your business I can drop you back at the manor.’
It wasn’t an invitation – more of a command, but she didn’t really relish the idea of eating alone. Kelly gazed inside at the dim interior, the smell of yeast and hops danced about her senses, and the distinct aroma of freshly-baked pie filled the air.
‘Sounds good,’ she said as she preceded him inside.
After they’d found a table in a secluded corner, Richard went to the bar to place their order. ‘Best fish and chips in the whole shire. I’ll order two serves,’ he’d said before she even had a chance to study the menu.
She shrugged. Good thing I like fish.
Richard took a while, laughing with the girl behind the bar as if they were old friends, but when he returned with two foaming mugs of Guiness, she forgave him his tardiness and domineering manner; the cool dark ale was exactly what she needed.
‘I’m so glad I ran into you,’ he said as he raised his mug in a toast. ‘I—’
‘Hey, Ricky!’
A young girl materialised next to Richard’s chair. The girl eyed Kelly up and down, before giving all her attention to Richard.
He looked at the girl with a slight frown. ‘Deanna, what are you doing here?’
‘Just delivering some pasties to the pub.’
‘Well, you’d better get to it … say hi to your dad for me,’ he said, all but dismissing the girl.
She seemed to hesitate, as if waiting for him to say something else, but when he didn’t she simply said, ‘Yeah, I’d better get back, I guess. See ya, Ricky.’
‘Bye, Deanna,’ he replied on a tired sigh before taking a big sip of his Guiness.
At the back door, the girl turned to stare at their table for a long moment before slipping into the shadows beyond. Kelly got a mental flash of the girl she saw from the roof of the manor the previous day and wondered whether Deanna might be his accomplice in the ghostly charade.
Richard waited until the girl was long gone before smiling apologetically at Kelly.
‘Sorry I didn’t introduce you. Deanna’s a sweet kid, but I suspect her ambition is to marry into a title. Which is a little “old world” if you ask my opinion. Alas, she appears to think I am a likely candidate. If so, she is in for a big disappointment.’ He gazed deeply into Kelly’s eyes. ‘When I do marry it’ll be to a strong, professional woman.’
She glanced away, refusing to meet his penetrating look. Statements like that were the last thing she needed or wanted to hear right now. She allowed her attention to be captured by the waitress who headed in their direction carrying two platters heaped with food.
‘Great. Lunch. I’m starved.’
As they talked and ate, Kelly found she enjoyed Richard’s company immensely. He was nothing if not charming and before leaving the pub he managed to persuade her to join him for dinner at his house on Friday evening. ‘I’m a very versatile cook,’ he boasted, though his expression appeared to hold a much deeper meaning.
‘Now, as promised, I shall drop you back at Stanthorpe,’ he said after giving the waitress his credit card.
‘I’ll just take a quick trip to the ladies restroom, if that’s okay. Can I meet you outside?’ she suggested.
Before he could answer, she followed the sign that indicated the amenities. Behind the door she found a long hallway that led to the back of the building. The restrooms were housed in a rustic barn-like affair across a leafy courtyard.
The sudden loss of sunlight as she entered the small complex left her almost blinded. She gasped in shock when a firm hand grabbed her wrist and pulled her further inside.
‘What the—?’ she yelped but was immediately cut off.
‘I don’t know who you are or what you’re after, missy, but keep your paws off Ricky.’
Astonished, Kelly could only stare as Deanna’s face finally came into sharp focus.
‘Did you hear me?’ Deanna demanded almost savagely.
Kelly pulled back and held up both hands to ward the girl off, before veering around Deanna’s rigid form. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’
Deanna slid sideways to block Kelly’s access to the nearby cubicle.
‘Yes you do. Now he’s got himself all that money from leasing the
manor house, he’s a ripe apple ready for a’picking. You’re not the first and you won’t be the last. But he won’t marry you, of that you can be assured.’
Kelly could only laugh. The girl was obviously not of a sound mind.
Kelly stood her ground and affected her most neutral expression. ‘Not that it is any of your business but I met Richard for the first time a few nights ago and as far as I’m concerned, you can have your viscount all to yourself. I have no romantic notions where he is concerned.
‘Now, I’d like to empty my bladder, if you don’t mind.’
Deanna pouted before shifting aside far enough to allow Kelly to push past.
Kelly could feel Deanna’s daggered gaze on the back of her neck as she entered the cubicle and only allowed herself a relieved sigh once she heard the girl’s footsteps recede.
She took her time and leaned against the wall of the cubicle for several moments to gather herself before heading back to the pub.
Outside, she found Deanna engaged in conversation with another young woman in a chef’s uniform. Both pointedly fell silent and followed her progress as she crossed the courtyard, each sporting identical scowls. Kelly would have sworn she was back in high school where the mean girls had taken great delight in bullying her.
‘So, Kel, how was Abingdon?’ Tom asked as he handed a gilt-edged china cup to his wife. ‘The town must seem rather quaint compared to bustling LA.’
Kelly had settled into one of the larger chairs by the window, but her focus wasn’t on the expanse of green beyond; instead her eyes kept flicking up to the mirror that sat above the mantle, wondering whether she’d have to go over every mirror in the whole place. She shuddered to think how many that would be. If the rooms she’d seen were any indication, there’d be at least two in each and every one. To say nothing of the number of paintings and light fixtures … and she couldn’t trust her phantom to tell the truth. There could be cameras anywhere.
‘Kel?’
She gave herself a mental shake. ‘Sorry – what did you say?’
‘I asked about your excursion.’ Tom placed a teacup on the small round table beside her chair. ‘I gather you still prefer coffee?’
‘Please,’ she replied, favouring him with a grateful smile before she took a sip. ‘Mmm. Heavenly.
‘The trip this morning was pleasant enough. Richard turned up at the pub and took me to lunch. Plus, I had an interesting little run-in with one of his lady friends.’
Nancy’s brows shot up. ‘A run-in? With whom?’
‘A girl named Deanna. Told me to keep my paws off.’
‘Deanna?’ Tom asked as he and Nancy exchanged a frown so similar that Kelly almost laughed out loud.
‘Apparently she works at the local bakery.’
Nancy seemed quite taken aback. ‘Yes. We know Deanna, she’s just a kid.’ Again they exchanged a strange look. ‘And what did Richard say to her demand?’
‘Actually, he knows nothing about it. The girl waylaid me as I was going to the ladies’ restroom out back. I can’t really blame her if she wants to protect her territory.’ She looked away almost wistfully. Perhaps if she’d been a bit more diligent in protecting her marriage to Frank … no, best not to go there. All she’d get was more pain.
‘Somehow I don’t think Richard would see it that way. From what I know of him, he is a confirmed bachelor and has a real reputation as the local playboy. If he ever does marry, it’ll be to some titled lady, a model or a socialite perhaps – certainly not a teenage waitress in a bakery – definitely not his style.’
‘Well style or not, she sounded extremely proprietary. I told her she was welcome to him, but she didn’t appear to believe that I wasn’t interested.’
Nancy’s head bobbed up. ‘You aren’t? Don’t you find him attractive?’
‘Do you?’ Kelly fired back.
‘That’s different – I’m a respectable married lady,’ she shot a glance toward her husband who was grinning into his teacup.
Kelly couldn’t help baiting her. ‘I’m not respectable?’
‘Oh, you know what I meant. You’re a free agent. There’s no-one to prevent you having a short affair … get back your sea-legs, so to speak.’
Tom sprayed his mouthful of tea all over the side table in an attempt not to choke.
‘For goodness’ sake, Tom, we just had this piece French-polished,’ Nancy chided, trying to keep a straight face as she mopped the tea with her napkin. Tom jumped up and began wiping at a spot on the rug. Nancy left him to it.
Rolling her eyes at the pair of them Kelly counted to ten before she felt able to respond. ‘I don’t think a fling would be very sensible right now, Nance … so I’m going to assume that you said that in jest.’
Nancy met Kelly’s gaze for a long moment. ‘I just thought it might help you get over Frank. You know, a “no strings attached” diversion – a little therapeutic sex – can do a great deal for one’s self esteem.’
‘I think my self-esteem will survive without any help from the viscount. Besides … I’ve got a mission here, haven’t I?’
‘Made any headway?’ Tom asked, his expression devoid of any hint of complicity.
Against her better judgement, Kelly decided to give them both the benefit of the doubt for the time being. But she wouldn’t mention John Tarrant either. If they were involved, they’d undoubtedly learn what passed between John and her, in which case, she was sure they’d make some kind of slip before too long. And if they weren’t, then they wouldn’t be in any position to help at this stage anyway.
‘I’ve organised to do some research at the National Archives tomorrow. It seems you must go in person to make document requests, so I’ll do some preliminary research then fill out the paperwork to get access to whatever estate records are available from the past few hundred years.’ She didn’t tell them that she intended to spend most of her time in London trying to track down the identity of the actor who filled the mirror in her room.
‘Aren’t they on file here, or in the town?’ Nancy asked. ‘Or the parish church?’
‘I’m not sure about any papers here at the house. I’ll be going over it with a fine-toothed comb to see what I can dig up. The church records only register baptisms, marriages and funerals. I spoke to the town librarian and she said that most of the official records were sent to the National Archives several years ago.’
Nancy gave her a thoughtful look. ‘That’s great. Maybe you can verify who our ghost is, and why he is haunting us.’
Kelly let the comment slide.
‘Oh, I meant to ask – did you take a pile of stones from the bureau outside my room?’
Nancy drew her brows together in apparent incomprehension.
‘Stones?’
‘Yes. Runes apparently. I was told about them today in Abingdon – I found a row of seven on the windowsill in my room. I left them on the bureau in the hall, intending to ask you about them, but this morning they were gone.’
Nancy and Tom exchanged blank looks.
‘I’ve no idea,’ Tom said. ‘I’ll ask the builders if you like – perhaps they know where they went.’
‘Finally,’ Kelly said, ignoring the unwelcome throb between her thighs the instant John materialised in the mirror before her.
She’d sat cross-legged on the bed for over an hour as she waited. She’d considered calling out his name, more than once, but until she knew that Tom and Nancy were innocent of any complicity, she couldn’t afford to be overheard.
‘Did the lady await me? I am indeed flattered.’ A self-satisfied glow seemed to pass across John’s face.
Frustrated, she shook her head. ‘Doesn’t matter who they are or where they’re from, does it – men’s egos are all the same.’
‘But Kelly, you must allow me a modicum of liberty. It has been over a century since a woman of any kind has shown me even a grain of encouragement. Surely that warrants some allowance?’
She scrubbed her face. If he weren’t so damn p
olite she’d want to throttle him. Again she could only marvel at how well he played his part.
‘I have some questions to ask.’
‘Certainly. I will answer as I can.’
‘Truthfully?’ she raised her left brow ever so slightly.
‘Of course, Madam.’ He lifted his chin as if affronted. ‘A man’s word is his bond.’
‘Okay—’
‘Okay, okay,’ he mimicked in obvious frustration, ‘… you often say this, as do your friends, but the word is unfamiliar to me. What do you mean by it?’
Surprised, Kelly had to think a moment. It never entered her head that he might not recognise colloquialisms that have now become a part of everyday language.
‘It kind of means … “all right” or “so be it” … or maybe “understood”.’
He cocked his head to the side as if seriously attempting to digest her explanation and suddenly she realised that at some point she had begun to believe him again.
‘Damn!’ she berated herself. How gullible am I?
‘Madam! Such profanity is unbecoming in a lady – even if one is a divorcee.’
‘What the heck has that got to do with anything?’
His expression sobered.
‘Perhaps such behavior is acceptable in your world, but in polite society a lady would never demean herself by speaking thus. A little latitude is sometimes reserved for worldly ladies who have been long married or widowed, but never would such a word pass a lady’s lips in mixed company – nor a gentleman’s for that matter.’
‘Good thing we’re not in your world, then,’ she muttered under her breath.
The blue of his eyes hardened, but he didn’t comment.
‘Okay,’ he said the word loudly for obvious effect, ‘you wished to ask questions?’
‘Yes I did.’ Kelly studied the information on her laptop, then glanced up to find him poised as if ready to leap from the glass. ‘How did you die?’
His slow smile caught at her innards. In other circumstances she might have thought the arrogant tilt of his head rather sexy and appealing, but knowing he was merely trying to deceive her made her shut down her reaction.
‘As I stated in our previous conversations, I am not dead.’
Secret Reflection Page 8