12 Naughty Days of Christmas 2020

by Megan McCoy

  “It’s so sad,” she said. Despite her better judgment she said, “Did you see him last night?”

  “No, but I heard noises coming from Bonnie’s room. I went inside and she was tossing and turning and saying Malcolm’s name.” He paused. “It was as if there was a wind in the room, but all the windows were closed. It was unsettling.”

  “You should have woken me,” she said.

  “If it happens again, I promise you I will.” He knelt on one knee. “Cousin, if you can hear me, please leave your mother alone, that is if you are visiting her. She needs comfort, and closure. If you have something to say, let it be known now.”

  Gabby looked around. There was no wind, no noise of any kind.

  “Look at me, talking to a grave,” Fergus said as he stood up. “I may need the room next to Bonnie’s in the sanitarium.”

  “You’re not crazy,” she said. She shivered and rubbed her arms.

  “Where’s your wrap?” he asked.

  “I left it in the church.” They turned from the grave and a cold wind whipped around them. They returned to the church door and hurried inside. Gabby walked to where they’d sat, and there was her wrap.

  Sitting on top of it, though, was something that hadn’t been there before… a silver snuff box.

  Chapter 4

  The box felt cold in her hands, and Gabby set it on the carriage seat next to her. They’d had a lively discussion about whether or not they should take it with them, or leave it at the church. Gabby searched for Father Went, but he’d disappeared. She found no one in the church, not a sexton, or a secretary, or anyone praying. The building was totally empty.

  Now she stared at it, wondering what it meant, and why someone had left it for them.

  “Did your cousin have a snuff box?” she asked Fergus.

  “Not that I know of, but of course he could have used it in private.” Fergus shrugged. “I never even saw him smoke a cigar, or a pipe.”

  “What could this mean?” Gabby ran her finger over the box, which had scalloped edges, but no engravings. Gabby opened the lid. The box was empty, with no trace of snuff inside.

  “Maybe it means nothing,” Fergus said. “There is every chance someone was in the church, they pulled it from their pocket, and it dropped onto the pew.”

  “In the five minutes we were gone?” Gabby shook her head. “And they just happened to drop it on my shawl.”

  “Most people don’t plan where they are going to drop something,” Fergus said.

  The carriage rocked against the uneven path, and Gabby grasped the seat. “Do you think we should go meet this spiritualist? She is staying with Kate Canon, a neighbor, I believe.”

  “Yes, she is.” Fergus reached across the seat and picked up the box. He turned it this way and that before he opened the lid and turned it upside down. He shook it as if he expected something to fall out.

  “You’re avoiding the question,” Gabby said. “Should we go and visit this Kate Canon and meet the spiritualist?”

  “No.” He thought for a long moment and said, “I want to go wait for the doctor. I’m more concerned with Aunt Bonnie than I am with the fake spiritualist.” There was another long pause as the carriage rocked down the road. “Send her an invitation to tea tomorrow. I would like to meet her.”

  Gabby didn’t really want to wait that long, but she could tell by the set look on her husband’s face there was no changing his mind. Or was there?

  “So, you’re just going to let the investigation come to you?” Gabby smoothed her skirts. “I thought you had more spunk than that. You certainly have in the past. Perhaps you’re aging and it’s dampened your edge.”

  Fergus, who had been staring at the snuff box, narrowed his eyes. “Excuse me?”

  “I thought you wanted to get to the bottom of things, but it seems as if you’re just going to plod along.” She smoothed down her skirts again, although there were no wrinkles in them at all. “Perhaps I should let you plan the party while I hire someone with Mr. Sherlock Holmes’ skills to find what that box means, and whether or not your aunt is losing her mind. Or perhaps you are too. I hope it’s not a family thing.”

  “How dare you speak to me like that!”

  Gabby fought back a smile. “Are you angry at me for calling out the truth?”

  “You think me weak?”

  “I think you’re acting like a fool,” Gabby said. “You know something is wrong, yet you take no action. Why didn’t you wake me last night when you heard noises? We could have investigated it then. It’s hard to follow noises hours after they happen. Why are you refusing to see the spiritualist? The priest is the second person to mention her. She could be dangerous.”

  “Or she could be nothing.” Fergus practically spat out the words, but she was happy to see that his anger was growing. If he were motivated maybe he would step out of the stupor that seemed to surround him. “Your words will have consequences.”

  Gabby loved the dark look in his eyes. “Right now, I doubt you could get up the energy to even deliver one swat against my bottom.”

  Now he was really angry. He dropped the box on the seat next to him, but before he could grab for her, the carriage jerked to a stop.

  Gabby tumbled to the floor, and despite her resolve to face things head on, fear filled her. “Fergus.”

  “Stay down,” he said. He rapped on the roof of the carriage. “What is happening?” he demanded.

  “It’s Daniel, sir, from the stables.”

  Gabby knew the voice she’d heard was much too young to be the carriage driver.

  Fergus opened the door and said, “What is wrong?”

  “Juliette sent me, sir.”

  Still on her knees, Gabby lifted up enough to look outside, her head at Fergus’ hip. A young man sat atop a prancing horse.

  “You’re needed at the house, sir, urgently.”

  Fergus scrambled out the door of the carriage and Gabby pitched forward, grasping the side just in time to keep from tumbling to the ground.

  “Get down!” Fergus waved his arms at the young man to dismount. When Daniel was down, Fergus swung into the saddle. “Meet me there,” he called out, just before he kicked the horse’s flanks and took off toward the manor.

  Gabby watched her husband as he disappeared down the road. “Get in!” she yelled at Daniel before she said to the driver, “Get us there, now!”

  Fergus burst through the front door. Before he could demand what was happening, Bud pointed toward the drawing room. There was a cluster of maids standing nearby, fear written on their faces. They held hands, and one of them was moving her lips as if she were praying.

  Bud fell in step behind him as Fergus marched toward the drawing room. He saw a sliver of light under the door. When he threw it open, a gasp of surprise came from the room. The fire was out, the curtains were drawn, and the only light came from candles on the table in the center of the room.

  “Get the fire lit, open the curtains and get some light in here.” Fergus stepped toward the table. “What is happening?”

  “I’ve been speaking to Malcolm,” Bonnie said, her eyes wide. “He’s in pain, Fergus, pain.”

  “He’s dead, Bonnie,” Fergus said. He turned to the other woman at the table. “Give me your name.”

  “Give me yours, sir,” the woman said. “You are interrupting a most delicate conversation with a person on the other side.”

  Fergus narrowed his eyes. Around him the maids were throwing open the curtains and lighting candles; one knelt in front of the fireplace, stacking firewood.

  “I am Lord Fergus McIntyre,” he said. “If you are looking to lighten my aunt’s purses, you should know I have control of her accounts, and nothing of any significance will come your way. Now, who are you? I won’t ask again before I send for the constable.”

  “I am the bringer of light,” the woman said.

  Fergus snorted. “You are the thief of hopes and dreams.” He turned to Bud. “Summon the constable, immediatel
y.”

  Bud bowed and scurried from the room.

  “And what do you expect the constable will charge me with, Lord McIntyre?”

  “Right now, I would go for trespassing,” Fergus said. “With my cousin’s death, this property is mine, and you are not welcome here. I will not let you torment my aunt with your false projections of being able to speak with the dead. If you can do so, have my cousin join us now.”

  Fergus stiffened as he felt someone come up beside him, but he relaxed when he realized it was Gabby. His wonderful wife, here to throw water on the fire, hopefully, to smooth things down.

  “Ma’am, I am Gabby McIntyre, Fergus’ wife. And you are?”

  “Our guest has not introduced herself,” Fergus said.

  The spiritualist cleared her throat, and Fergus wondered if she was deciding which name to use. Finally, she said, “My name if Honoria.”

  “Honoria what?” Fergus asked.

  “Just Honoria.” A serene look came over her face, and then she closed her eyes. She remained silent.

  Fergus turned to Gabby and rolled his eyes. Then he looked to where his aunt sat, her gaze focused on a large candle in the middle of the table. He’d been so focused on the charlatan that he hadn’t gone to help Bonnie.

  As if she read his mind, Gabby went to his aunt. She knelt down next to her and grasped her hands. “Her hands are cold as ice,” Gabby said.

  “Get her up to bed, please.” Fergus looked around the room. The maids were huddled near the fireplace, which now contained a blaze that was gaining in intensity. He saw Juliette standing near the front of the gathered women.

  “Juliette, you and another maid help Gabby with Bonnie. The rest of you, please stay as witnesses to what might happen.”

  All of them nodded, and he stood by while Gabby and Juliette, and an older woman he didn’t know, helped Bonnie from her chair and led her toward the door.

  When they were gone he said, “I don’t know what sort of mind trick you’ve used on Bonnie, but I am telling you now, you are no longer welcome in this home. To avoid detainment, you may leave now, but I assure you I won’t be as forgiving if I see you within these walls again.”

  It seemed as if she might resist him, but after what seemed like forever, she inclined her head ever so slightly. She walked past him without saying a word. Fergus had seen a carriage that he was sure was hers, waiting at the front of the house.

  “I’ve sent for the constable,” Bud said behind him.

  “Good, I want to know my legal stance against this woman,” Fergus said. “What about the doctor? Has he visited?”

  “No, milord,” Bud said.

  “Let me know when he arrives.”

  “Yes, milord.”

  “Have the two of them been alone in here this whole time?”

  He turned to see the look of shame on Bud’s face. “The woman frightens the staff, sir,” Bud finally said. “I’m sorry for my failure. I assure you it won’t happen again.”

  Fergus heard the door close as he went to the chair where his aunt had been sitting. He sat down and sniffed the candle. There was no unusual odor coming from it, so he didn’t think his aunt had been drugged. But there were other things that could be used, including hypnosis. His aunt was vulnerable, and easily susceptible to suggestion. He needed to learn more about this Honoria, and he was sure his wife could help with that.

  There was one other way he could turn, and that was to Kate Canon, with whom the spiritualist was staying. He made a mental note to contact her and invite himself over for a visit. He didn’t want her coming here, because there was every chance she would bring Honoria with her.

  “Bonnie is sleeping,” Gabby said as she came into the room. “If you want my opinion, I feel as if she were in some sort of trance. Her pupils were large, but that could be because it was so dark in here. It could also mean she was put into a stupor.”

  “We need to talk to the doctor about it when he arrives,” Fergus said. “And we need to talk with Kate Canon.” He told her of his intent to visit Bonnie’s neighbor.

  “We should go close to teatime,” Gabby said. “A gracious hostess will not be able to turn us down. There is one more thing we need to do, and that is investigate this spiritualist, as we said.”

  “She calls herself Honoria,” Fergus said.

  Gabby turned toward the door. “Bud,” she called out. The butler appeared immediately, which let Fergus know he’d been waiting just outside. “Bring me writing implements.”

  “What do you plan on doing?” Fergus asked.

  “I’m going to send a message to Mariella and ask her to investigate the woman. This can’t be the first time she’s tried something like this.”

  “True,” Fergus said.

  Bud returned and put the requested items on the table.

  When he was gone, Gabby started to write out a message. “We need to find someone on the staff we can trust who can take the telegraph into town,” she said.

  “I’ll take it myself after the doctor has been here,” he said.

  “Thank you.” Gabby put her hand on his and he savored the warmth it provided.

  “There is that other matter we need to discuss,” he said.

  “What is that?” She batted her eyes at him, but he could tell she knew exactly what he was taking about.

  “There will be consequences,” he said.

  “It will be worth it,” she responded. “Truthfully, since it pulled you out of your stupor, you should be spanking me as a reward. But I will let you decide.”

  Bud appeared and said, “The doctor is here, sir.”

  “Well, let’s see what he has to say,” Fergus said. “Then I’ll go into town to send the telegram, and when I get back we’ll deal with that other matter.”

  “But I have plans for tonight,” Gabby said. “We’re going to be stringing popcorn. That other matter will have to wait until later.”

  Chapter 5

  Gabby had started on her second strand of popcorn when the clock struck eight. Fergus had been gone for almost four hours, which was much longer than he should have been gone. Bonnie was awake, and she was in a better mood than she’d been in since they’d arrived. She was giggling and telling stories about Malcolm and Fergus as children, especially ones that dealt with Yule time. The two ladies were sitting with several maids, including Juliette and Lydia.

  She tried to concentrate on what Bonnie was saying, but the longer Fergus was gone, the more she worried that something had happened to him, that someone had attacked him, or given him poison as they had to Malcolm.

  “Ouch!” Gabby pulled her finger back from the needle and stuck her finger in her mouth. The metallic taste of blood made her grimace.

  Bonnie laughed. “Be careful there, the needle goes through the popcorn, not your finger.”

  “I’m a little distracted,” Gabby said after she’d taken her finger out of her mouth. “Fergus should be home by now.”

  “Don’t worry about him,” Bonnie said. She expertly strung the popcorn before she let the string drop in her lap. “Where did he go?”

  That was something Bonnie didn’t need to know, at least the actual reason. She’d been in such a good mood since her nap, that the last thing Gabby wanted to do was bring up the spiritualist. But it was always best to stick close to the truth.

  “I forgot to tell my staff something and he went into town to send a telegram for me.”

  “Such a good man,” Bonnie said. “My Malcolm was a good man, too. I still laugh when I think of the games they played. They used to play hide and seek with us, and I’m still not sure where they hid. They would be gone for hours while we searched. And then, boom, suddenly they were there.” Bonnie laughed, and then she continued, “They would never tell us where they were. Hiding under a bed, I suppose. Or up in the attic. They were smart boys.”

  “Fergus tells me you had a tradition at Yule time.”

  Bonnie laughed. “And he hated it, I can tell you that. W
e ate, of course, roasted goose and vegetables. We had plum pudding, my absolute favorite, for after the meal. Then I made them sit around the fireplace while we read A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens. We’d start on Christmas night and finish it by the first of the year. Malcolm enjoyed it, but Fergus always dozed off. I love that story.”

  Bonnie laughed once more, but then she sniffled and started to cry, small tears at first, which turned into huge racking sobs. “He’s gone. He’s gone. My son is gone.” She dropped the popcorn garland and buried her face in her hands.

  “Bonnie.” Gabby pushed the popcorn off her lap and crossed to where Bonnie sat. She put her arms around the sobbing woman just as the door to the drawing room opened and Fergus walked in. A mixture of sadness for Bonnie and relief at seeing her husband swept through Gabby.

  “What’s all this?” Fergus asked. He knelt in front of Bonnie. Gabby released the crying woman and Fergus stroked her shoulders. “It’s been a busy day for you. Perhaps we should get you to bed. Gabby?” Fergus glanced at Gabby and she nodded.

  “We’ll help, ma’am,” Juliette said.

  Fergus stepped back and Juliette and Lydia helped Bonnie to her feet. Her sobs had lessened, but she was still crying.

  “I’ll be up momentarily,” Gabby said to the ladies. When they were gone she wheeled around and demanded, “Where have you been?”

  “The pub,” he said. He dropped into a chair.

  “You were drinking?” She wanted to scream.

  “I was following our spiritualist,” he said. “When I came out of the telegram shop she was going into the pub, which is not far from there. I went inside to see what she was doing.”

  He paused and Gabby said, “And? Don’t pause for dramatic effect, Fergus. Tell me what happened.”

  “You’re no fun,” Fergus said. “But as you wish. I ordered an ale and watched the spiritualist as she spoke with a man sitting in the corner. They didn’t seem happy with each other. The barmaid said the man, who called himself Freddy, has come in for food and drink every night for a few months. He asks questions about local people, and those whose relatives have recently passed.”