The Haunting of Crawley House (The Hauntings Of Kingston Book 1)
Page 1
The Haunting Of
The Hauntings of Kingston 1
Bonus Bundle
About This Book:
Each tale of The Hauntings of Kingston is a standalone novel that takes place in the enigmatic city of Kingston, Ontario.
The promise of a new life destroys a family. And the curse lives on and on.
“Mommy I’m scared.”
Five-year-old Sarah doesn’t understand why she’s afraid. But she is. Frightening things are going on in their new home, and she’s mixed up.
Their new home has a history.
A century earlier, a servant girl with dreams of fame and fortune collided with the house’s mistress--a British aristocrat bent on securing her place in proper society. The tension between these women began with small things, builds to prickly pressure and then explodes into raging mayhem, ripping through the entire household.
Fury, vengeance, and hatred infuse the very walls of Crawley House.
Sarah shouldn’t be afraid. She should be terrified of what is in store for her and her family.
As reviewers have said:
“Crawley House, a suspenseful and dramatic ghost story with some nice twists.”
“Good storyline with well-defined characters. One of the better ghost stories that I’ve read in a long while.”
“Clever, creepy haunted house story. Very well written.”
Special Reader Bonus Bundle: Legacy (The Mystical Veil)
Included in this eBook is a free copy of Legacy.
Copyright, Michelle Dorey
ISBN: 978-1-927984-77-2
License Notes
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to it and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
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Contents
The Haunting of Crawley House
Part I
Kingston, Ontario
1928
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Part II
Kingston Ontario
The Present Day
Interlude…
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
A closing word:
Bonus Book: Legacy (The Mystical Veil)
About this book
ONE
TWO
THREE
FOUR
FIVE
SIX
SEVEN
EIGHT
NINE
TEN
ELEVEN
TWELVE
THIRTEEN
FOURTEEN
FIFTEEN
SIXTEEN
SEVENTEEN
EIGHTEEN
NINETEEN
TWENTY
TWENTY ONE
TWENTY TWO
TWENTY THREE
TWENTY FOUR
TWENTY FIVE
TWENTY SIX
TWENTY SEVEN
TWENTY EIGHT
TWENTY NINE
THIRTY
THIRTY ONE
THIRTY TWO
THIRTY THREE
THIRTY FOUR
The End
Author’s Note:
Before we begin, a word…
Please feel free to join my mailing list. I’ll keep you updated about new releases and special offers of my works. In fact, if you take me up on this offer, I’d like to give you one of my books for free— The Haunted Hideout. It’s been a strong seller for me and I think you’ll enjoy it!
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Part I
Kingston, Ontario
1928
Chapter 1
Melanie Crawley perched on the edge of the chair waiting. Her fingers gripped tightly to stop the trembling. It was a struggle to maintain the cool composure a lady must always exercise and she was losing the battle.
She wanted to scream.
The door to the office opened and Doctor Evans entered. He held a file folder in one hand and a smoldering cigarette in the other. There was a grim smile on his ruddy face when he took a seat behind his desk.
Melanie leaned closer to peek at the file folder he opened. But she didn’t need to see it to know what the missed monthly’s meant. Her breath caught in her chest. The bubble of joy at the prospect of carrying Kevin’s son was about to be burst by the man sitting across from her.
Doctor Evans tapped the ash from his cigarette and turned back to scan her patient record. “My wife instructed you on the use of those feminine napkins, Mrs. Crawley?”
“Yes she did, Doctor.”
“And you know the signs to look out for?”
“Spotting in the morning larger than a shilling, and I’m to telephone you straight away.”
He lifted his hand and made a small circle with his thumb and forefinger. “I said a quarter.”
She nodded. “And I’m more familiar with the size of a shilling, Doctor.” With a weak smile she held her fingers in the same position.
He snorted. “Melanie, you’ve been here in Canada for almost five years—don’t you think you should start being more familiar with our currency?”
“My husband handles the finances in our home, I don’t have much opportunity.”
“Very well, as long as we’re in agreement on that part anyway. And for the second part?” His chin lowered and gray eyes peered at her above the spectacles.
“But Doctor, I have two children at home! How can I care for them from my bedroom?” Her hands knotted as she tried to calculate the additional expense of a live-in maid. Kevin had said that having Mrs. Dowd and Bridget part time was stretching the household finances as it was!
Doctor Evans leaned across his desk. “Mrs. Crawley… Melanie… I’ve known your husband since The Great War. It’s a wise man who keeps his cards close to his chest with respect to his finances. But take my word for it—your husband has no vices other than a cigar and brandy every now and then. What a major earns as salary isn’t a pauper’s wage. I’m confident you will be able to afford the extra help.�
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“How can you be so sure, Doctor?” She and Kevin never discussed the household’s financial affairs. He insisted it wouldn’t be “ladylike.” As if an Irish lad from Canada had the slightest idea of how things were done in such a home. Her mother, Baroness Darcy, knew where every ha’penny in the estate came in from. She also knew what it went out for. Melanie had to admit, it was a relief not having to be concerned about such matters in her own household. Until now.
“Melanie dear, every other major stationed here in Kingston has at least twice the number of household staff as you.” He tapped his desktop with his index finger. “Full-time help, I might add.”
She cringed inwardly at the doctor’s familiar use of the word ‘dear.’ Keeping her expression neutral, she replied, “I sincerely hope you’re correct, Doctor.” And the correct term, Doctor, is ‘servants’ not ‘staff.’ Generals have staff; ladies have servants.
“Bed rest it is, then. Doctor’s orders. No more than four hours a day on your feet.” When she sighed in response, his tone grew sharp. “Mrs. Crawley. This is serious business. When you delivered your daughters, I told you additional pregnancies would be a trial for you.”
She stamped a foot on the floor in frustration. “My Kevin deserves a son!”
The doctor sat back in his chair, the squeak of the springs underscoring his annoyance. “Damn it, woman; he has no title to pass on! This isn’t England!”
She sat forward. “But he has a name to pass on, Doctor! When Agnes and Alice marry, they’ll take their husband’s names. Should Kevin’s name go into the ground with him when he’s gone?”
“That will not be for a long, long time, Melanie. Kevin’s barely thirty years old.” Doctor Evans smiled as he said it.
“He’s the most remarkable man I’ve ever known, Doctor. He’s—”
Doctor Evans cut her off with a wave. “I’m quite familiar with your husband’s heroism, Melanie. I was over there during most of his exploits.” He sighed. “He’s the most remarkable man I’ve ever met as well.” Shaking his head slowly, he continued. “No other soldier ever went from a raw private to his station and rank before.” He looked up at her with a twinkle in his eye. “And for an Irishman like him to win the heart of a baron’s daughter… What a tale.”
“He had his pick of the London Season I assure you, Doctor. I’m the fortunate one.” Five years after their wedding, and two children at home, and she meant every word. Good Lord she loved that man so! She could and would give him a son!
“I assume he knows you’re expecting?”
“I wanted to wait until I was further along to say anything. I’ll tell him tonight.” She wouldn’t have even then, except for the bed rest order.
Stubbing his cigarette out in the ashtray, Doctor Evans concluded the consultation. “If he has any questions or concerns Melanie, I’m at his disposal.”
***
As the taxicab drove away, Melanie paused in the walkway to examine her dormant rosebushes. They survived the winter easily this year because of dear Kevin’s work at triple wrapping them in burlap last fall. Growing up in England, she loved her mother’s rose gardens, and had planted bushes as soon as the house was built. But here in Canada, a great deal more work was required to ensure survival from season to season. These bushes were her second attempt.
Hitching up her skirts, she climbed the steps to the veranda and opened the broad front door. It wasn’t a double door as in her parents’ home, but it was a sturdy, solid door nevertheless. Also unlike her parents’ home there was no front door servant to greet her. Her mouth was set firm. Kevin Crawley was not now, nor ever would be a lord with a manor, but that was just fine.
Were they back home in England, no Irishman would ever, ever stand a chance of entering her social circle. But Kevin had been a member of the Canadian Expeditionary Force; despite his brogue, he wasn’t technically an Irishman. His Majesty King George V himself had hung the Victoria Cross on him, and then shook his hand! Even the Times published an etching of the ceremony, captioning the picture “Majestic Heroism.” That single gesture opened the door to every home and salon for Major Kevin Crawley in the empire, let alone London!
And he chose her. From the first instance of their meeting, neither of them could tear their gaze from one another. She had taken the rule book of proper decorum for a young lady and absolutely shredded it! That memory of six years ago caused her to grin like a schoolgirl. And he, the charming and debonair “Warrior of Ypres,” “Conqueror of The Somme,” “The Victor of Vimy Ridge” and “Lion of Passchendale” to quote the tabloids, was a stuttering schoolboy in her presence.
To this day, they both laughed at how shy they were with each other when they were introduced.
“I survived bomb blasts and explosions, Melanie,” he had said later that same evening. “But none of them prepared me for the thunderbolt which is you.”
To his surprise, and her astonishment, she kissed him right then. The wedding took place six months later. Her mother insisted they wait an acceptable time. It was the most difficult six months of her nineteen years.
And the last five years have been the most joyful anyone could ever imagine.
Her lips broke into a smile so large it hurt her cheeks.
By God, she’d follow Dr. Evans’ orders to the T and give her Kevin the son he deserved!
From the foyer she could hear the twins chattering at Mrs. Dowd in the kitchen. Agnes must have done something quite saucy, because Alice’s laughter tinkled over Mrs. Dowd’s scolding, which transformed into a chuckle. She quickly strode to the rear of the house.
Entering the room, she saw Alice standing on a chair in the kitchen, an apron covering her dress like a smock, to her feet and Agnes beside Mrs. Dowd, both of them with flour on their faces, laughing.