Wyndham Hall

by Midge Cline

  Copyright © 2018 by Midge Cline

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof

  may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever

  without the express written permission of the publisher

  except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Printed in the United States of America

  First Printing, 2018

  Published by Pub This! 2018

  Artwork Copyright © 2018 by Aimee Woodward @DigiDawgDesign.wixsite.com

  No portion of the artwork may be reproduced or used in any manner without the express written permission of the artist, except for promotional media.

  Wyndham Hall

  by

  Midge Cline

  This book is dedicated to my friends and family who have been of immeasurable inspiration and patience.

  Wyndham Hall 1487 -

  “Master Wyndham, your guests have arrived, shall I lead them to the drawing room?” The servant placed a fresh, clean shirt on the dressing table for his master.

  “Yes, I will join them shortly, I trust rooms have been made available for them?” Sir John Wyndham said as he dressed. He preferred to dress himself, not the usual custom for noblemen, just what he preferred.

  “Yes Master, Lord Douglas and his sister have been placed at the rooms at the end of the hall, near the stairs.’ The servant advised him.

  ****

  Keith Douglas took his sister’s wet cloak and hung it nearest to the warm fire.

  “Are you okay Mary-Katherine?” He rubbed her shoulders to warm them against the bitter cold.

  “Yes brother, I am fine. I am sure I will experience cold in the Abbey as well.” She laughed. Mary-Katherine was set to be a postulate at Iona Abbey. She was looking forward to a life of serving God and His people.

  “Lord Keith! Well met! Good to lay eyes on you again!” John Wyndham entered the room with cheer and good spirits. “I trust my servants have taken care of your carriage and horse, as well as taken your things upstairs.”

  “Yes, old friend, we have been looked after with great competence.” Keith assured him. “Please, allow me to introduce you to my younger sister the Honorable Miss Douglas.”

  Mary-Katherine Douglas was a tall, well developed girl with long dark colored hair and large, round, brown eyes. She wore no makeup or adornments. Her round Irish face, pale complexion, large bosom and narrow waist, allowed her to look much older than her 14 years. Much to her heartfelt shame. Mary-Katherine bowed her head slightly at the introduction and complimented the Lord on his lovely home and well-behaved servants, as she was expected to do.

  Dinner was a lovely affair of roast duck and various root vegetables. A hearty wine was served alongside, and a heavy yeasty bread as well. Mary-Katherine stayed silent during the meal, when it was finished she made to excuse herself. She needed a rest; the long journey thus far had been arduous and exhausting.

  Lord John Wyndham’s eyes widened when she requested an excusal from the table.

  “But my dear, you must come and join us by the fire for at least a short while, Keith and I have dominated the talk so far, and I have learned nothing of you, save your name.” The Lord pleaded.

  “One cup of tea, good sir, but then I must beg away for rest.” She responded with the expected amount of respect. Mother would be proud. “Our journey continues on the morrow. We still have far to go.”

  “All the way to Iona Abbey!” John exclaimed. “Surely you are not seriously going to lock your beauty away behind convent walls! You should be married and making plans for children!”

  “I have had a calling to serve the Lord,” She told him, frankly. “I have no need for either a husband nor children.”

  “It seems such a waste.” John said, with what Keith was surprised to realize, was genuine sadness.

  “My sister has been devout since she was old enough to pray.” Keith chimed in. “She has been destined for the abbey as long as any of us can remember, but no worries, there are already plenty of us to carry on the proud ‘Douglas’ bloodline.”

  “If you gentlemen will excuse me, I am truly very tired. I need to rest.” Mary-Katherine finished her tea and followed the old servant through the short hallways to the room beside her brother’s. The manor was smaller than her father’s grand estate house, but it was warm and well furnished. Her room was neat and clean, with fine linens and draperies. She washed her face in the water basin, brushed her hair, dressed for bed, said her prayers and settled in beside the lantern to read scripture before falling asleep. She was excited for the changes about to happen in her world.

  ****

  “So, what is wrong with her? Surely she is attractive enough, with a perfectly established bloodline to warrant a wealthy husband, not the cloister!” John refilled Keith’s whiskey and stood closer to the fire for warmth.

  “Ha ha!” Keith laughed. “She is not being cloistered because she failed to leash a husband. Or because something is wrong with her, for that matter. She has chosen this life for herself.” Keith was accustomed to people questioning Mary’s calling. He was accustomed to justifying her choices.

  “And your father allowed it?” John was astounded.

  “Well, yes. You see, he and mother were blessed with many healthy children. I am the eldest male, the heir, and the imminent Duke. I have one elder sister, she is married and has bore him three grandsons already. My younger brother will be wed in the spring. And yet, another brother has entered service for the King, and of course Anabelle and I have been married these 4 long years, and we have 3 lads of our own. There are plenty of young Viscounts and Ladies to carry the noble Dukedom on in our bloodline. Mary choosing not to wed saves me the trouble of having to worry that her husband is treating her correctly or had married her to further his own political agenda, and it makes her happy.” Keith explained.

  “Seems like such a waste.” John said sadly.

  “I think it is a blessing to the Lord, this is what she really wants to do. Mary is devout and privileged, women generally do not get a choice, are not given the option to choose. Mary is a very lucky young lady, and she has chosen well.” Keith said with obvious pride.

  The two young noblemen spent the remainder of the evening discussing current politics and the cost of running large estates before retiring.

  The following morning, Mary-Katherine knelt on the floor of the guest room in her long white nightdress and performed her devotions. The rising sun, but a sliver on the horizon through the window. A quick knock on the door interrupted her and she grabbed a dressing gown to wrap around her before opening it to find Lord Wyndham.

  “Good morning, Mary-Katherine, I trust you slept well.” He pushed inside the room, closing the door behind him.

  ****

  Present Day-

  Nigel Morgan walked across the threshold of his family’s new home. He felt accomplished as he looked around at the old-world charm of the once great manor house. He had purchased the Irish home at an incredible price. Though he felt sure he would be paying the substantial mortgage until the very day of his death.

  “Nigel! Did all of the furniture arrive?” Gwynn called from behind him as she made her way up the walk. Their daughter Binne following closely behind with the dogs.

  “It appears so, the movers did a great job placing it all too.” Nigel told her as she stepped into their new house.

  “It looks so different than when we saw it a year ago.” Gwynn’s bright eyes took in every detail. Her chic modern furniture looked tacky and out of place in the grand old house.

  “Wow! This place is huge!” Binne said as she entered the house wide-eyed. Dark hardwood floors and moldings accented with pristine white marble, and elegant silk wallpapers in bold gold an
d red brocades contrasted with the simplistic furniture they had brought with them to their new home. The dogs, Huey, Dewey and Stan, three mixed breed rescues of extreme loyalty and charm, sniffed and whimpered as they sat protectively at Binne’s feet.

  “It really is. It seems smaller with the furniture in place, which should tell you how big it seemed when we viewed it.” Gwynn laughed. “Why don’t you go upstairs and find your room. It’s the one with all of your things in it, up the stairs and to the right.” Gwynn pointed to the opulent staircase which rose to a flat landing and then split either to the left or the right. “I think you will love the room we chose for you. It had the biggest walk-in wardrobe.”

  Binne called the dogs to heel and ascended the wide, curved stairwell to the second of three floors.

  She followed to the right to another landing, where she found she could chose to ascend again to the right or left to the next floor or enter the wide carpeted hallway. A quick search found the room containing her belongings, boxed against the far wall. Her bed had been set up and the linens box placed atop the mattress.

  Binne set to work unpacking her posters and pictures, her knick-knacks and mementos. An oversized stuffed panda sat comfortably in a rocking chair in the corner of the room, watching her silently as she worked. The dogs piled themselves into the fluffy dog bed under the window.

  Her room was quite lovely, there was a small wardrobe for her clothing and a dressing room at one end, large enough for her to place her small desk and a pile of floor cushions, a place for homework and privacy. Empty bookshelves surrounded the wall around an inglenook fireplace set in the wall opposite the foot of her bed. She would fill them soon enough. Books were her life. Books and her dogs.

  “Wow, you have been working hard!” Her mother’s voice said from the open doorway. “You have been up here for nearly two hours.” The shelves were filled with books and sentimental items. The bed was made, and the wardrobe was crammed full of clothes both folded and suspended from wooden hangers.

  “Hi Mom, glad you are here! Can you help me put my desk in there?” She nodded to the walk-in dressing room.

  They struggled for nearly a half an hour before Nigel joined them, he shifted the desk and got it through the narrow doorway in a moment. Once the desk was finally through the narrow doorway it fit perfectly against one wall. Binne ran an extension cord and she and her father began setting up her computer. Nigel left the room and returned quickly with a small settee, which he placed in one corner, he left again and returned with a thin corner bookshelf, which he placed opposite the chair. The makeshift office was intimate, small enough to sit in the chair and reach the desktop with one arm, and minimal stretching.

  “It is perfect! Very creative office, Binne.” Nigel told her. He wrapped an arm over her shoulder and leaned to place a quick kiss on top of her red-brown hair.

  “I am starving, we haven’t any food in the entire house!” Gwynn announced in reaction to her grumbling stomach. “What do you say to heading into the village to eat tonight?”

  “I think that is a great idea! We can maybe stop at the shops and get some supplies. Food, cleaning supplies, and maybe a premade dog house and a run for the beasts.” The dog house they had at their old home had been cemented to the property, so it had to be replaced.

  ****

  They entered the only eatery they found in the village, a stone and wood pub that looked as if it was as old as their new home. Stone floors and walls, long dark wood beams. Every wall covered with photos and paintings of local color. They chose a table in a corner by a window which overlooked the main street.

  “Hello folks, passing through?” A short, portly man in his mid-forties with flaming red hair and prominent freckles appeared at the table side with menus.

  “Actually,” Nigel admitted, “we are new residents. We just moved in up the road a bit.”

  Nigel noticed the man’s smile fade as he made a connection somewhere in his mind.

  “You bought Wyndham Hall?” His voice caught briefly, but he recovered quickly. “They call me ‘Chip’, and you can too. Here are some menus, or we have a big pot of stew on the hob ready to eat if you like.”

  They ordered meals and drinks and Chip waddled off to the kitchen. Gwynn noticed that there were few people in the pub at this time of day, and the few that were there were intent on their own meals and company. Until, that is, Chip made his way to each table. Gwynn saw that Chip’s expression was solemn as he nodded toward her family, by the time their food had arrived, every eye in the pub was watching them.

  “Not weird at all, right?” Binne whispered.

  “We are outsiders, and we have taken over a landmark in their community.” Nigel explained. “It may take some time to gain acceptance here, just try really hard to be extra kind and sweet to everyone, eventually they will warm up.” I hope. He added silently, sharing a look with his wife.

  Nigel and Gwynn had plates piled with steak and chips, grilled tomatoes and a small bowl of bright green peas, Binne enjoyed a burger and crisps.

  Chip appeared at the table as they finished, with the bill and a slightly warmer smile than before.

  “Chip, where would I go to buy building supplies and groceries?” Nigel asked politely, “We want to buy locally as much as we can, while we work on the house.”

  “The shop is just up the street, by the church. You can find farm fresh everything there for pretty good prices. If you need building stuff, I suggest you go talk to Tate Brooks, up the lane, left at the church, top of the hill, through the trees. You will see his place, old farm house with lumber and metal lying in stacks in the yard. He is a fair man and will give you a fair price.” Chip advised.

  “I am also looking to hire a helping hand and a contractor for a bit, someone to help me build a kennel, and do some much-needed renovations on the house and land.” Nigel handed Chip the money for the bill.

  “You may have better luck asking Tate, he may know someone willing to work up there.” Chip said casually and walked away.

  The Morgans bought supplies at the shop and arrived at the Brooks property just before dark.

  “Mr. Brooks, my name is Nigel Morgan, Chip said you were the man I needed to talk to.” Nigel introduced himself to the tall, muscular man stacking lumber in the side yard. He stretched and wiped his hands on his jeans before accepting the extended hand that had been offered to him by the stranger.

  “What is it Chip says I can do for you?” He asked with a smile.

  “Well, I need to start by building a kennel, and a large dog house. And we have a great deal of work to get done at the new house, so I will be a frequent customer.” Nigel laughed.

  “New house?” Tate Brooks asked with a smile.

  “We bought the place called Wyndham Hall, over by the lake on the other side of the village.” Gwynn advised him, watching his face closely to see if he reacted in the same manner as the pub owner. He did. “We have all the permits and permissions to renovate the place into a museum, it will be quite a bit of work.”

  “Wyndham Hall, I haven’t been up there since I was a kid. You have your work cut out for you there.” Tate walked around to a flat trolley and began loading lumber on to it.

  “Yes, and we will need to hire someone to help, if you know a handy laborer wanting to make some extra money.” Nigel enquired. Tate laughed and shook his head.

  “You will be hard pressed to find anyone willing to spend much time up at the Hall, but I can bring my son up tomorrow to help you with the doghouse and kennel. I will ask around about a regular for you.”

  “Why?” Binne asked. “Why would we have trouble finding people to help us?”

  “It is a superstitious village, people fear the Haints.” He told them.

  “Haints?” Binne’s brows touched in confusion.

  “Haints, specters, ghosts.” Tate told her. “The Hall has quite a reputation as being more haunted than the graveyard.” He nodded to the cart of wood. “I’ll deliver the kenne
l and dog house supplies around 10 if that works for you.” Nigel nodded.

  “Haunted!” Binne exclaimed excitedly.

  ****

  “Haunted! How exciting!” Binne said again once they were back in their car.

  “Well, it stands to reason, I mean, the Hall dates back to the 1400’s. There has been a lot of restoration and renovation work done to keep it from falling to ruin, but many parts of the house are centuries old. And the tower itself is from the original house. Making it nearly 600 years old! People were bound to die there at some time over that long of a span.” Gwynn said. “I am just surprised it still scares people in this day and age.”

  “I think I will do some research, it would be cool to know more about the history.” Binne said with deep curiosity, “How old is the part of the house we are living in?” Knowing that the third floor and the tower were still closed off and they were only going to be living on the first two floors until renovations were complete and her parents dream of turning it into a museum were realized.

  “According to the estate agent, the main floor part in which we live was completed in the 1400’s. It has been updated and rebuilt a few times over the years. I have the blueprints, they are very detailed and show which parts of the house were built when, and they provided a lot of documentation showing work that was done.” Gwynn told her. “You can help me sort through it all if you like. It will be a great project for us both.”

  ****

  Binne and Gwynn unpacked and sorted the kitchen and dining room shortly after a quick breakfast of fruit and toast. At 10 precisely, Tate and his son arrived with a large truck full of supplies.

  Colt Brooks knocked on the door with a large tea-towel covered basket in his arms.

  “My mother sent these for you, to welcome you to the village.” He explained as he handed over the basket full of breads and biscuits. “She said she hopes to meet you at the fete this Saturday, or church on Sunday.”