Zombie Abbey

by Lauren Baratz-Logsted

  “Kate?” Lizzy drew back in puzzlement. “Why would you think it’s something to do with Kate? She’s fine. Or at least she was last time I saw her.” Lizzy leaned forward, turning her attention to Will’s aunt as he breathed an internal sigh of relief.

  “It’s just so awful!” Lizzy cried out. “Did Will tell you what happened today?”

  “Of course he did, pet. That must have been horrible for you.” Here Auntie leaned forward and grasped one of Lizzy’s delicate hands in both of her work-roughened ones.

  He marveled at his aunt: calling Lizzy, a daughter of the estate, “pet”; touching her as though she were Annie Mason, the farmer’s widow who was their closest neighbor, come by for a cry after some loss. But then, that was his aunt all over. If Queen Mary came to the door in need of something, Auntie would treat her just the same.

  Still, he half expected Lizzy to recoil at her touch, as he’d sensed Kate doing as he lay on top of her earlier in the day, protecting her. Not that it had been like that at first. At first Kate hadn’t seemed to mind the contact at all, nor had he, if reluctant truth be told. In fact, it had almost seemed as though she were pressing into him, which hardly seemed necessary, since he was already on top of her, pressing her into the ground. Despite the danger at hand, he’d enjoyed the sensation of close contact very much indeed. But then she’d cooled and…

  Well, it didn’t bear thinking about.

  What did Lizzy see when she looked at his aunt with her prematurely grizzled gray hair?

  But rather than what he’d half expected, Lizzy leaned forward, too, placing her other hand on top of his aunt’s.

  “Thank you for saying that!” Lizzy said. “That’s why I came here. I knew Will would understand. And I suppose if I’d taken the time to stop and think about it, I’d have realized that you’d understand, too, given what you’ve been through.”

  “Of course we do,” Auntie said.

  “That man,” Lizzy said, “the one I killed today, he was already dead.”

  “I believe you. I saw it myself with my Ezra.”

  “But how is such a thing possible?” Lizzy said.

  “I don’t know.” Auntie shook her head.

  “And the toughest part,” Lizzy said, “well, maybe not the toughest, but still very bad, is that no one up at the house is taking this seriously, or almost no one. Even Dr. Webb—”

  “I saw that doctor,” Will said, “heard him, too. You expect more from a medical man. You expect him to be more, I don’t know, open-minded, maybe even to have an idea or two about what might be going on.”

  “Well,” Lizzy said with a laugh that was only the tiniest bit bitter, “if we’re expecting that, then clearly we’re expecting too much from Dr. Webb! Perhaps some other medical man—”

  “But the way he dismissed you!” Will said, now feeling outrage on her behalf. “When you were the one who saw—”

  “Just like I did with Ezra,” Auntie put in.

  “First,” Will said, “there was just the one.”

  “And now,” Lizzy said, “there’ve been two. And where there’s two…”

  She let her voice trail off, perhaps reluctant to finish the thought herself. So Will did it for her.

  “There could be more,” he said. “Which is why I was so upset that you’d come here, at night, like this. We’re safe enough inside, or at least so far we’ve been, with the doors closed. But out there…?”

  It was his turn to let a thought lie.

  “But don’t you see?” Lizzy said. “I felt I had to come! To at least talk to someone who would understand, someone who would believe me, because there’s no point in trying to talk to them.”

  “We understand, pet,” Auntie said, “and we do believe you. But it will be morning soon. Hadn’t you better get back before they notice you’ve gone?”

  “I didn’t think about the time,” Lizzy said, looking mortified. “How awful of me, to keep you up late, interrupting your sleep when you have your own life to attend to in the morning.”

  “I don’t mind,” Auntie said. “I’m no longer sleeping as well as I once did. Hadn’t you better walk her home, Will? She came all this way by herself. She mustn’t go home that way, too.”

  Will excused himself to his bedroom, grabbed a thing or two, and returned.

  “What’s that?” Lizzy said, pointing to the pistol in his hand.

  “A pistol,” he answered.

  “Yes, I know that. But what is it for?”

  “Insurance.”

  …

  If they were living in normal times, Will might have relished the opportunity to walk a pretty girl home. He’d have taken the long way, strolling at the most leisurely pace possible so that he might prolong the pleasure of having her at his side.

  But these were not normal times, so instead he found himself rushing, protectively holding her hand as he hurried her along, racing against the house waking up and discovering that the youngest daughter had spent a part of the night down in the small cottage of the stable boy, racing against whatever might be there outside with them.

  Not to mention, as a daughter of the house, Lizzy was not for him. And besides, she was Lizzy.

  “But what do you think it is?” Lizzy whispered. “Dead, not dead, dead again—what is happening?”

  “I don’t know,” Will said. “I’m not a doctor.”

  “And the one we have is all but useless.”

  “Maybe it’s some new disease,” Will said, “something the world has never seen before.”

  “Maybe,” Lizzy said doubtfully, as though she were unsure just what to think. “Anyway, we’re close enough.”

  Porthampton Abbey lay not far ahead.

  “You should leave me here,” Lizzy said. “If someone does see me coming, better that they see me alone.”

  “All right.” He jutted his chin toward the abbey. “I’ll stand watch until you’re safely inside.”

  “But Will?”

  “Yes?”

  “Don’t listen to what my father said. I know he sent you away yesterday and told you not to come back before today. And for all I know, he’ll send you away again! But don’t listen to him. Find a way to be here. We need you here. I need someone here, someone who understands.”

  “All right,” Will said simply again.

  Lizzy started to leave him, but he stopped her. He couldn’t believe he’d nearly forgotten the most important part.

  “Here,” he said, laying something in her hands, the other thing he’d grabbed from his room back at the cottage.

  “What’s this?” she asked.

  “It’s a pistol.”

  “Yes, I do know that, but—”

  “Keep it on your person, Lizzy. Keep it on your person at all times, especially whenever you go out of doors.”

  He watched her look at the gun for a long moment, realization sinking in, before she shifted her gaze up to his.

  “It’s your insurance,” he told her.

  Chapter

  Twenty-Three

  Breakfast was a simple affair that day.

  Or at least, it was as simple as it ever got with this lot, Daniel thought, setting out buffet offerings for the Sunday morning meal. They’d have their food, and they’d go to their church, waiting to have their big meal later once they’d returned, that larger repast no doubt involving the proverbial fatted calf.

  Or possibly a real one.

  Hands covered with spotless white gloves, Daniel and Jonathan placed chafing dishes on the marble-topped mahogany sideboard, lighting the oil burners underneath to keep the food warm. The chafing dishes contained kedgeree, made with smoked haddock, rice, eggs, oil, butter, and parsley; eggy bread; fluffy eggs; bacon; and a small plate of kippers, which only His Lordship tended to appreciate.

  Honestly, it was enough food to feed an army.

  These people were always eating food and there was always so much of it, which made little sense. It wasn’t as though they really did anything all da
y long, certainly nothing a person might term “work.”

  As for Daniel’s breakfast, Jonathan’s and the rest of the servants’, too, that would need to wait until after the family was finished. And the dining room cleared. And the kitchen cleaned. And a few other chores done. Then, it being Sunday, they might enjoy some kedgeree and bacon for a treat, too.

  His Lordship was the first to arrive at table, and Daniel thought that if His Lordship weren’t careful, he’d be popping the buttons on his waistcoat soon. Lady Katherine followed shortly after.

  Daniel knew that even with guests in the house, Her Ladyship would take her own breakfast on a tray in her bedroom and eat it in bed, just like she always did. As for the others, he expected they’d be along soon enough. He’d already been upstairs, earlier, helping Raymond Allen get dressed for the day, although the duke had been disinclined to come down right away.

  On Sundays, the family always helped themselves. Well, what would be the point of a buffet if they didn’t? But Daniel and Jonathan still needed to stay at attention, just in case anything else was needed or some sort of food emergency occurred.

  Once His Lordship and Lady Katherine had filled their plates with whatever they wanted, they sat at the table. Since no one else was there yet, they actually sat close together. Lady Katherine picked up a slice of bacon with her fingers, pointing it at His Lordship’s own overgenerous helping of it, which he was about to attack with knife and fork, and said, “You know, Father, if you eat much more of that, you’ll be popping the buttons on your waistcoat,” before taking a crisp bite.

  Sometimes it wasn’t easy being wallpaper, no matter how good an actor Daniel fancied himself because, hearing her say that, he wanted to burst out laughing. And he did like that, for all her properness, Lady Katherine ate her bacon with her fingers. Was there any other way?

  To His Lordship’s credit, rather than taking offense, he laughed along with his daughter.

  “I suppose you are right, my dear,” he said. “But I’ve always found it difficult to turn down more of anything I like. I always want more.”

  Nice for some, Daniel thought, to have that choice.

  Just then, Mr. Wright entered, bearing a note on a silver salver and looking uncommonly flustered.

  “What’s the matter, Wright?” His Lordship said.

  “I don’t know how this happened, my lord. Apparently, another note came from Dr. Webb, but it’s only just been brought to my attention now. Fanny found it on the ground outside the kitchen late last night and she put it in my pantry. I’m so sorry—”

  “No need to be. Besides, there’s nothing to be done about it now. Let’s have a look.”

  His Lordship took the envelope from the salver and, picking up Lady Katherine’s unused knife, slit it open. As he perused the contents, his brow furrowed.

  “What’s the matter, Father?” Lady Katherine asked. “Has something happened?”

  “I honestly can’t say. Dr. Webb has simply written, ‘Things have taken a bad turn for the worse—situation in the village much more dire than I first thought.’”

  “That sounds ominous,” Lady Katherine said, “and not in the usual good way.”

  It sounded ominous to Daniel, too. And unlike Lady Katherine, Daniel had never found anything ominous to turn out good. He wondered that His Lordship didn’t leap out of his chair, immediately set about trying to determine just what exactly the doctor meant and how it might affect them.

  “Whatever it is,” His Lordship said, “I’m sure Dr. Webb is capable of dealing with it. Still, perhaps after church—and lunch, of course—I should take a ride down to the village and have a look around.”

  “Are you sure that’s safe?” Lady Katherine said.

  “Safe? Why wouldn’t it be?”

  “Why, because of all the things that have been happening lately.”

  His Lordship merely gazed back at her blankly.

  “What happened to the stable boy’s uncle,” Lady Katherine prompted. “What happened with the valet yesterday. What Dr. Webb writes of now, things in the village being dire…”

  “Oh, that.”

  “Yes, that.”

  “Well,” His Lordship said cheerfully, “we can’t let a few stumbling blocks make us forget who we are.”

  “A few—”

  “You know, my dear, as lord of the abbey, it is my duty to make sure all under my care are safe. We are British! We must never give in to fear! And anyway, I’m sure I will be safe enough. But that’s for later. For now? Church! If the rest of those laggards don’t come down soon, we’ll all be late and miss it. I still need to change, myself, and you do, too.”

  Daniel knew that His Lordship was exaggerating. No matter how late they might be, they wouldn’t miss anything. On Sundays when there were guests in the house, the family didn’t bother going to the church in the village. Rather, they went to the stone structure on the far reaches of the property. After performing an early-morning service in the village, the vicar would go there to perform a second private service for the family and their guests. And so church would come to them.

  “Wright,” His Lordship said, wiping his mouth with his linen napkin before laying it down beside his plate, “have Ralph bring the Rolls up.”

  The church may have been on the property, but it was a vast property, and it wouldn’t do to have the ladies walk so far in their Sunday clothes, particularly Her Ladyship and the dowager countess. Oh, and that guest, Rowena Clarke. There was something about Rowena Clarke that caused Daniel to keep forgetting about her.

  “I’m afraid that won’t be possible,” Mr. Wright said, looking flustered once more.

  “Not possible?” It was rare that His Lordship was told that something he’d requested wasn’t possible.

  “I’m afraid the Rolls isn’t here, and neither is the driver.”

  “But I don’t understand.”

  “I would guess, my lord, that the car and its driver are still with Dr. Webb.”

  “I suppose you are right. I did say I would lend them to him. But I did not say that he could have them forever!” His Lordship was clearly outraged, but despite the flaws Daniel saw in his employer, he had to admit that at least his bad moods never lasted for more than a few moments. Soon, the clouds would part and his expression would turn optimistically sunny again, as it did now.

  It probably helped that the cats had just sauntered in.

  “Rosencrantz and Guildenstern!” His Lordship said. “How good of you to join us! Would you care for the rest of my kippers?”

  Well, of course they would.

  His Lordship set the china plate down on the carpet for the felines, giving them each a pat on the head, before returning his attention to Mr. Wright.

  “Never mind,” His Lordship said. “I’m sure Ralph knows what day it is—Sunday!—and that he is expected here to drive us. He’ll be back in time. I’m sure Ralph won’t let us down.”

  Chapter

  Twenty-Four

  Grace was late coming downstairs.

  She’d been almost ready when, halfway out the door of her bedroom, she remembered she’d wanted to put on a particular set of earbobs to go with her church costume. That costume consisted of a cream-colored Chanel with a blush-pink sash at the waist, silk stockings, side-button shoes, and a hat to match the color scheme of the dress. She was adjusting the hat on her head as she hurried down the grand staircase to join the others below.

  “You’re a vision, Lady Grace,” Merry told her. Then he added with a smile, “But why did no one tell me there was a particular dress requirement for church here at Porthampton Abbey?”

  Grace looked around at the assembly. The guests all clad in typical church attire, Merry and Benedict Clarke and the duke in dark suits with Rowena Clarke in a lavender dress, while her family all wore cream with the occasional touch of pink, as she did, even Father, who had also donned a cream-colored duster coat over his suit. Why, the hats alone could be their own separate subject! Hers w
ith its pink ribbon. Kate’s surprisingly romantic one, wide-brimmed and decorated with pink flowers, Mother’s felt cloche, and Grandmama’s perched on her head at a jaunty angle. The only one slightly out of fashion step was Lizzy who, for some reason, had put on a long dark cloak over her own cream-colored dress.

  “I’m sorry.” Grace laughed. “I suppose I should have warned you. Only, we’ve always done it this way. It makes us feel closer to God when we go to church, purer somehow.”

  “I doubt,” Kate put in with an arched brow, “that God is ever fooled by us.”

  “Whatever the reason,” Merry said, “you all look beautiful. It makes me feel as though this might be summer, even though I know that it is not, and we’re going to a garden party together.”

  “Yes, well, now that we are all here.” Father clapped his hands. “Shall we?”

  Behind them, the butler cleared his throat.

  “What is it, Wright?” Father said.

  “I’m afraid, my lord, that Ralph still isn’t back yet and, therefore, neither is the car.”

  “Oh, that’s blasted inconvenient!” Father said.

  “Language, Martin,” Mother said. “Mr. Wright? Please send down to the stables for a few traps. I suppose today we’ll have to go to church the old-fashioned way.”

  “Wright,” Father said, “please don’t send down to the stables for a few traps.”

  “But how on earth will we get there?” Mother said.

  “We shall go the truly old-fashioned way,” Father said. “We shall walk there. Besides, it’s a lovely day out.”

  “That’s me out, then,” Grandfather said, shuffling away before anyone could stop him.

  “We can send for a trap for just you, George!” Father called after him.

  “Never mind,” Grandfather said, waving a hand to the side while never turning; once Grandfather was set on a particular course, it was always difficult to turn him. “I’ll have an early drink and an early nap and I’ll put my dancing shoes on before you return.”