The Lord Who Sneered and Other Tales Read online

  “Mrs. Preston,” Theo began, interpreting Anne’s silence as reticence to broach any subject at all whatsoever with the intimidating cook. “We wished to express our congratulations on a delicious breakfast, only, we thought the eggs a bit clammy.”

  “Oh!” Anne cried as if this was woeful news of which she had been unaware. “I believed it to be the paucity of bacon that brought us here this morning.”

  “The what of what?” Mrs. Preston demanded with a penetrating glare for each of them. “I will have you know I supplied the breakfast room with an entire rack of rashers.”

  “I do beg your pardon,” he said with a long look for Anne whose eyes sparkled with mirth. “Someone must have eaten it all before I came down.”

  This bit of prevarication led Anne to stifle a snort of laughter behind one fine-boned hand, an action that prevented her from taking in the look of disapproval bestowed upon her by Mrs. Preston.

  “I shall see that there is more tomorrow morning, Sir. Will that be all?” she asked in so stiff a manner that Theo fleetingly considered abating her indignation with a buss to the cheek. However, in the end, he felt it safest to plunge on to the matter at hand.

  “That would be most satisfactory, Mrs. Preston, and many thanks. There is, however, another matter. Her Grace has given Mrs. Crenshaw and I leave to conduct an inquiry into the matter of the resident ghost. Have you seen it?” he asked in hopes he did not sound as foolish as he felt.

  Suddenly, a loud crash came from behind. Anne gasped as they whirled to discover that an enormous platter had fallen from its place in the Welsh cupboard. A pair of kitchen maids scurried to clear up the mess as they tried, in vain, to hide their terror.

  “Is this a frequent occurrence?” Theo wondered aloud.

  The cook only stared back at him from a face distinguished by overly-round eyes and a triple row of chins.

  “Do you not find it odd that the platter fell at the precise moment we asked about the ghost?”

  “No, I do not,” the cook replied in a voice cold enough to form icicles in hell.

  “I see,” he said with a conciliatory smile, then turned, eyebrows raised, to favor Anne with a look of incredulity.

  “Have you not seen the ghost, Mrs. Preston?” Anne asked, far more kindly than Theo felt was deserved.

  “I have not and would thank you to refrain from spooking the staff with such barmy notions.”

  “Oh!” Anne said, distressed. “But we do have leave from Grandmama to ask about it.”

  As this speech made no impression on Mrs. Preston, Theo concluded it was time to end the interview. “We won’t trouble you any longer,” he said as he slipped Anne’s hand into his with a squeeze and held it out of sight of the formidable cook. “However, if any of your staff has something to relay, please send him or her to us as soon as possible.”

  Mrs. Preston looked dubious as to her willingness to comply, but she nodded curtly before turning her back to them and proceeding about her day.

  “Well then!” Theo said. “I believe we have done enough ghost-hunting for one day. Let’s go for a ride, shall we?” he asked with another squeeze to her hand, so soft and small in his. She favored him with a sweet smile, one that seemed full of promise, and his heart turned over in his chest.

  “I shall just go change into my habit,” she said, putting her arm through his and gazing up into his eyes. “And, perhaps, afterward we might visit the circulating library again. I am persuaded they shall have a book or two on specters and spooks.”

  Theo covered her hand where it lay on his arm and considered himself the most fortunate of men. His good opinion of his fortuity only strengthened as they spent the remainder of the morning and the afternoon together. They took their time with their ride and dismounted to walk, hand in hand, through the meadow that verged the gates at the far side of the estate. At the library, they found an illustrated volume depicting various phantoms and apparitions adorned with sheets over which they giggled until tears came to their eyes. They stopped to join some children in a game of lawn bowls on the village green and stepped into the local drapers so as to allow Anne the requisite ribbons and a new pair of riding of gloves, long overdue.

  The Dowager absented herself from dinner; a meal made merrier for the dearth of caustic remarks and looks of disdain and, afterwards, they retired to the drawing room, Anne by the fire and he across the room where he surreptitiously might take in the effect of her profile against the flames. He wondered if she possibly could have an accurate perception of her beauty; how her eyes turned to mulberry wine and her hair to burnished gold in the light of the fire. He felt it the ideal moment to speak but wasn’t entirely sure she would be willing to tether herself to marriage so soon. However, nothing short of an expeditious marriage would do; now that he had found her, he intended to never spend a day deprived of her presence. He cleared his throat and opened his mouth, but his gentle voicing of her name was drowned out by the sound of a knocking at the door.

  Anne jerked as if feeling a strain not apparent in her manner until that moment. She looked to him with eyes round with apprehension. When a kitchen maid entered, her shoulders dropped in relief, and he realized she had misgivings with regard to the coming hours of dark solitude.

  “Sor, beggin’ your pardon, Sor,” the maid said, bobbing a curtsey. “Mrs. Preston said as we should come to you if we had summit to say about the ghost hereabouts.”

  “What is it?” Anne asked in a hollow voice. “What do you know?”

  I ha’n’t seen him for myself, Missus, i’were me aunt who worked here afore me.”

  “May we speak to her, then?” Theo asked.

  “No, Sor, she died of the consumption. But she knew it were comin’, Sor, on account o’ the ghost.”

  He looked to Anne to gage her reaction and quickly shook his head to convey his rejection of the maid’s story. “Surely, you don’t feel the ghost came for your aunt?”

  “Thot’s just wot she said afore she died, Sor. That the ghost had come like he had afore and that she was to die.”

  Theo looked again to Anne and, registering her anxiety, hesitated to allow the girl to speak further. However, Anne rose to her feet and, to his surprise, began to pepper the maid with questions.

  “Where did your aunt see the ghost? Did he say anything? What made her believe it was her death he foresaw?”

  The maid, her brow wrinkled as she turned the questions over in her mind, hesitated a bit before answering. “Come to think on’t, I don’t know that she said where she saw it. And, no he said naught that I know of. I suppose she thot t’was her meant to die on account of she was the one that saw him.”

  “But your aunt died of consumption, did she not?”

  “Yes, Sor, she did, that very night, right after telling me mum that she had seen the old duke appear.”

  “Thank you, that will be all,” Theo said a bit more curtly than he ought. The girl had come according to his desire and had told him exactly what he had asked to know; he should not lay Anne’s increasing trepidation at the girl’s door. However, the moment she had departed he took Anne into his arms and attempted to ease her fears. “Her aunt suffered from illness, doubtless, for years before it finally took her. The ghost did not come for her; she would have died at any rate.”

  “Yes, but she did die and so soon after seeing the ghost!” she said as she pushed away from him to better look up into his eyes. “Perhaps he came to warn her just as he has warned us.”

  “Hush, now,” he crooned as he pulled her head tightly against his chest and stroked her hair. “Neither of us are ill nor likely to soon die of old age.”

  “We should not ride, Theo,” she said, her voice faint and muffled in the voluminous folds of his cravat. “Riding is dangerous. One of us might take a fall.”

  “Then we shan’t. I do think you have no cause to worry, but we may effortlessly avoid riding if it pleases you.”

  “Yes, Theo, it pleases me very much. And the carriage,”
she said, tilting her head back to watch his expression. “We shan’t need it for anything tomorrow, should you think? We have just been to town.”

  Looking down into her eyes, he wanted nothing more than to cover her mouth with his own. However, her profound anxiety coupled with the difference in their heights prevented him. “Come, Anne, let us sit by the fire and think on what we should do.” He led her to the wingback chair closest to the flames, seated himself and, despite her feeble protests, drew her down into his lap.

  With a sigh, she settled her head against his collarbone so that it fitted just under his chin, and slowly, the tension eased from her arms and shoulders. They sat in silence for some time, and when he felt that her fear had sufficiently abated, he took both of her dainty hands in his own and tightened his hold around her with the other. As he bent his head to look into her face, his heart suddenly took up a pounding he was persuaded could be detected in the next room. She gave no sign that anything was amiss, however, but looked up to stare at him, her eyes glowing like stars of amethyst.

  “Anne, I…” he began but was cut off by her horrified exclamation.

  “Grandmama!”

  “Where?” he cried and all but discarded Anne from his lap in his dismay.

  “Upstairs! Don’t you recall?” she asked, too overwrought to notice his dread of having been discovered by the Dowager with Anne in his lap. “She was not well. That is why she did not come down to dinner. Oh, Theo, what if the ghost were meant for her?”

  At the moment, he could have happily consigned Her Grace to her heavenly abode, or worse, but felt it best to refrain from saying so. “She is an old woman. I am persuaded she simply needs her rest.”

  “You are right, of course, but Theo,” she said as she rose and began to pace the floor. “I find I cannot be composed until I know how she fares.”

  Theo drew a deep breath and let it out in a silent sigh. “If you think it best, then of course you must go to her.”

  “I do, and if she is feeling poorly yet, I think I must sit up with her tonight,” she added as she wrung her beautiful hands in consternation.

  “I think that a splendid scheme.” Though he would have rathered share a seat by the fire with Anne for many hours yet, he suspected it was a pointless ambition. Clearly, she had no desire to spend the night alone in her room, and he hadn’t the heart to deprive her of a plausible excuse. “I suppose this is goodnight, then,” he said, rising to his feet and taking her hand. “Tomorrow we shall stay close to home and learn whatever else remains to be learned.”

  “Thank you, Theo! I don’t know what I should do without you,” she said, her hand warm and supple in his and her eyes, so very soft and tender.

  In that moment, he knew she would say yes if he offered her marriage. Instead, he watched her walk away from him, every one of his muscles yearning to go after her, to take her in his arms and kiss her hair, her face, her lips, until she forgot Grandmama, the tiresome ghost, her dead husband and all other cares other than Theodore Williams. In spite of his wishes, she had somehow quit the room and closed the door behind her, leaving him with nothing but his thoughts and the chair in which they had been together. Slowly, he sat and positioned himself as he had been, the imaginary head under his chin just as real as mere minutes prior, the weight of her slim body against his right arm just as vibrant, closed his eyes and dreamed of the morrow.

  Theo woke to find himself in his bed and slow to remember the events of the night previous. Gradually, his head began to clear as the room filled with light until, suddenly, he realized it was the day he would, without fail, ask Anne to be his wife. He hurried down to breakfast, sure he would find her prepared to do battle with him over the bacon, but she was not there.

  He rang for the maid and learned that Anne was still with the Dowager, and the doctor had been sent for. It seemed he was to spend the day on his own but rather than give in to disappointment he determined to make more inquiries. He was now convinced that the sooner he might solve the mystery of the ghost the sooner Anne should fully turn her attention to Theo.

  He decided to begin with the gardener as the ghost had last been seen on the grounds. Perhaps he had appeared there the time before, as well. Prior to leaving the house, he filled a plate with Anne’s favorite foodstuffs, including a generous portion of perfectly cooked bacon, and left instructions that it should be taken up to her. Then he went in search of answers.

  Baldwin, the gardener, was found raking leaves out of the flower beds that fronted the entrance to the chapel grounds. As Theo approached, the gardener raised his head and pushed back his hat to reveal an expression that suggested questions would not be welcomed. Theo, however, refused to be daunted and held out his hand for the gardener to shake.

  “I am Mr. Williams, a guest staying at the house.”

  The gardener shook Theo’s hand and gave a curt nod.

  “I have been enjoying the excellent grounds,” Theo said with a look that took in the vast lawns, overflowing flower beds and immaculate rose garden. “I am persuaded there is not a better man with a spade this side of the Continent.” To Theo’s surprise, this fulsome compliment failed to soften the gardener’s expression one whit. “Ah, well, I suppose I should come to the point. Her Grace has given me carte blanche to ask questions with regard to the resident ghost.”

  Baldwin raised his brows so far his hat rose into the air. “I don’t know that you would call it a resident. It hasn’t ever appeared in the house.”

  “Then, you have seen it?”

  Baldwin renewed his grip on his rake and returned to his work. “How could I?” he protested. “No such thing as ghosts.”

  Theo was of the same opinion, yet, he and Anne had seen something; he was not about to give up until he could assure her that all would be well. “Pray tell, how does one see a ghost when such does not exist?”

  The gardener shrugged. “Imagination? Hysteria? Who can say?”

  Though Theo had yet to experience a single moment of hysteria in his life, he was willing to attribute his ghost sighting to imagination. He had believed the face of the man in the portrait to be the same as that he had seen in the graveyard, but it was certainly not evidence of a conclusive nature. Theo had seen many such portraits; one darkened visage graced with a needled nose was much like the other.

  “You have never heard tell of the ghost being seen anywhere than the graveyard?” The gardener shook his head and Theo pressed on. “What of the platter falling to the floor the moment we inquired about the ghost from the cook?”

  “What of it?”

  “Well, is that known to happen on a regular basis, perhaps when a door is opened or closed somewhere in the house?”

  The gardener lifted his foot to tamp down a bit of disturbed dirt and looked up at Theo with a wry smile. “Seems as if you have all the answers with no aid from me.”

  “That is fair. But what of the kitchen maid’s aunt? She died the very night she saw the ghost.”

  “Did she, now?” The gardener’s tone was dubious.

  “Well, didn’t she?”

  “She died; that much is true.”

  “It was of the consumption, I’ve been told.”

  “Who knows what one imagines when in the grip of the consumption?” Baldwin mused.

  Theo was hard-pressed to formulate a reply. Though he felt all of his questions had been answered, he knew Anne would need more. “Her Grace’s granddaughter, Mrs. Crenshaw; she has been overwrought since she saw what she believed to be a ghost. What should I say to her?”

  Baldwin allowed his rake to fall to the ground and turned to fully face Theo. “She saw this supposed ghost at, what—close on midnight?”

  “Yes, I do believe it was.”

  “Well, then, I can’t make no promises as the moon won’t be as full tonight as it t’were then, but if you bring her close onto the same hour, I will do my best to explain your ghost.”

  Theo wasn’t the least satisfied that such a thing could be done,
but he once again shook the gardener’s hand and thanked him. As he turned to walk towards the house, there came the rattle of wheels on the road and Baldwin sprinted to the front gate to allow a carriage to enter. Suspecting it was the doctor, Theo proceeded to make himself least in sight in the library until he could draw the physician aside upon his departure. As such, Theo spent an anxious quarter hour as he waited for his chance to learn what conclusions were being drawn above stairs.

  If the Dowager was, indeed, dying, Theo was persuaded Anne should prove inconsolable. Yet, if the Dowager suffered from a harmless complaint, Anne wasn’t likely to suffer any less foreboding; it should only prove to change focus. When he spotted her descending the stairs with the doctor, her expression peaceful and her eyes alight as she caught sight of him waiting for her, he felt a weight lift from his shoulders.

  “Theo, you will be relieved to know that Grandmama suffers from a simple cold. She will doubtless be up and about on the morrow. Is that not wonderful?”

  “Yes, it is,” he replied with a smile that might have seemed a bit broad for such innocuous news. To Theo, however, there was nothing of the banal with regard to having Anne to himself for the rest of the day and evening. With the Dowager abed, it should prove far easier to take Anne for a midnight walk for their final ghost hunt, as well. Together they bid the doctor adieu, whereupon Theo ushered Anne into the library and shut the door behind him.

  “You are looking more yourself. How is Grandmama?”

  “She is fine, Theo, truly she is. I feel a bit foolish for having been in such a taking over her.”

  “I am very glad to hear it, for there is something I should like to say to you.”

  “And I should love to hear it, but I most go to Grandmama. She is miserable and has asked that I read to her so as to pass the time.”