Christmas Ghosts at the Priory

by Fenella J Miller

  Christmas Ghosts at the Priory

  By

  Fenella J Miller

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any method, electronic, mechanical, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of The Author - Fenella J. Miller

  Christmas Ghosts at the Priory - © Copyright Fenella J. Miller, 2018

  This e-Book is a work of fiction. While references may be made to actual places or events, the names, characters, incidents, and locations within are from the author’s imagination and are not a resemblance to actual living or dead persons, businesses, or events. Any similarity is coincidental.

  COVER DESIGN BY J D-SMITH

  Chapter One

  December, 1814.

  'My lord, you are wanted in the study.' The butler bowed politely and stood aside to allow Garrick to proceed him down the spacious corridor.

  He had been expecting the summons and was bracing himself to accept the inevitable without protest. His grandfather, the Earl of Penston, had not long to live and was determined that his only surviving relative would be married before that day arrived.

  Garrick was well aware he was delinquent in his duties to his name by not having stepped into parson's mousetrap before now. After all, a gentleman of his age was expected to be safely married to a suitable young lady by now, especially if one was the only heir to an earldom.

  Indeed, he had tried to find himself a bride amongst the many fluttering, vacuous debutantes that had graced the London Season for the past few years but none of them would do. When he had reached his majority he had foolishly given his promise to his grandfather that he would marry the earl's choice without argument if he was still unwed at five and twenty.

  Now he was hoist by own petard and must fulfil his vow. God knows who had been selected for him – but he doubted whoever it was could be any less appealing than those he had rejected these past years.

  The door to the study stood open and he strolled in without knocking knowing this would irritate the irascible old gentleman sitting behind the desk.

  'Well, sir, I have made things simple for you. You will marry Miss Eloise Granville. She is the granddaughter of a dear friend of mine, Sir Thomas Granville, and has an ancient pedigree to match your own. She is yet to have a season which is fortunate for you, young man, as I have no doubt she would have been snapped up immediately.'

  'Am I to know any more about my future wife, my lord?'

  'She is seventeen years of age, an excellent horsewoman, and well-educated. She is pretty enough, and happy with the match. Her parents were killed in a carriage accident when she was small and she has grown up in the sole care of her grandparents.'

  'Then we have one thing in common already. And when is our marriage to take place?'

  'The first calling of the banns was yesterday and it will be a Christmas marriage. A double celebration for the family and yourself.'

  'Devil take it! Am I not to meet the chit before I am obliged to bed her?' His grandparent ignored his indelicate remark.

  'The announcement of your forthcoming nuptials will appear in The Times today. You will bring her here as soon as you are united.'

  Garrick swallowed his anger with difficulty. He was very fond of his only living relative; like the girl he was being forced to marry, he had been orphaned young and spent his entire life under the control of his grandfather.

  'Then I had better return to my own estate and get my trunks packed. There are also other matters I must settle before I leave. Exactly where does Miss Granville reside?'

  'No more than fifty miles from here and slightly less from your establishment. You will be married in their family chapel on the twenty-third of the month. You will remain there until Twelfth Night and then bring your bride here and reside with me until my demise.'

  Penston Hall would be his, as would the title, so it made sense for him to make his home here. The girl he was obliged to marry was too young for the responsibility of running such a vast household – good God, she was scarcely out of the schoolroom.

  'When am I expected at, what is it called? St Cuthbert's Priory? That is hardly an auspicious name.'

  The old man chuckled. 'Ridiculous to live in a place so called. It is an ancient pile with many additions over the centuries and is like a rabbit warren. It is also said to be haunted by a variety of ghosts. Your stay will not be dull, I can assure you.'

  'I shall take my leave, Grandfather, but will return if you need me.'

  'Pish, my boy, I am not intending to kick the bucket for a few months more. If my legs still functioned I would accompany you as I would dearly love to see you married.'

  'Then why can we not be married here? Presumably the banns have been read in our chapel as well?'

  'They have, and if you had attended matins you would have heard them yourself. Why not send a letter by express to Sir Thomas and see if has any objection to having the ceremony here? He and Lady Granville are, as far as I'm aware, hale and hearty and would have no problems travelling.'

  'If we rearrange it in this way then this house must be made more festive. Guests must be invited…'

  'No, my boy, that will not do. I cannot abide a house party and dislike the old-fashioned way of decorating a house for Christmas. We shall leave things as they are. I shall ask the Rector to conduct a service of blessing on your union when you return with Eloise. That will be enough for me.'

  'In which case, my lord, I shall consider that my true wedding day. Forgive me, I have business to attend to in Town before I depart for St Cuthbert's Priory.'

  He bowed to the old gentleman and he nodded in return. Garrick strode out and called for his horse to be fetched and his greatcoat, beaver and gloves to be brought. As he cantered down the drive he had much to mull over. What puzzled him most was why Sir Thomas should wish to marry his granddaughter off before she had had a season. Seventeen was too young, in his opinion, to enter into matrimony. It was a lifelong commitment, unbreakable but by death, so why would Eloise have agreed to marry a man she had never met and knew nothing about?

  *

  Eloise listened with growing incredulity to her grandparents. 'I am to marry this Viscount Forsyth without having set eyes on him and in three weeks' time?'

  The grandparents exchanged glances. It was her grandmother who spoke soothingly to her. 'My dearest girl, you were adamant that you would not go to London for a Season and find yourself a husband so we thought this would be easier for you.' Grandmama smiled. 'We are in our dotage, Eloise, and cannot hold parties and balls for you. However, Penston has been a friend of this family forever and he is in a similar position with his grandson. The opportunity seemed heaven sent.'

  'I am only seventeen, why cannot I marry him when I reach my majority? I am not ready for the responsibilities and neither am I interested in producing infants for him. I take it that is why he is in such a rush to marry?'

  Her grandfather hid his smile behind his hand at her remark but was forced to comment when he was fixed with a basilisk stare by his wife.

  'I will be frank with you, my dear, the earl has heart failure and is unlikely to live for many more months. Lord Forsyth is the last surviving male in the family and it is imperative that he provides an heir as the estates are entailed.'

  'Is he hideous? Is he a hardened gambler or a rake? Is that why he has failed to find himself a wife and must recourse to this nonsense?'

  She knew her forthright speaking shocked them both but she was past caring if she offended them. She loved them dearly. They were octogenarians and could not be there to take care of her for many more years. They were doing wh
at they thought was best for her and she could not fault them for their desire to see her settled.

  'We would never have proposed you married anyone you could not like or that had a bad reputation. I have not seen him myself but have it on good authority that he stands more than two yards high, has an impressive width of shoulder and a handsome face.' Grandpapa looked to his wife for confirmation. She nodded.

  'He has dark hair and blue eyes, an unusual combination. He has recently reached his twenty-fifth anniversary. He has no need of your fortune as they are a wealthy family.'

  'The more I hear about him the less I understand why he should wish to marry a cripple like me when he could have the pick of the Season.'

  'Eloise, you must not speak of yourself in those terms. You have a limp which means you cannot dance, but in every other respect you are a beautiful young lady. I am sure he will take no notice of your slight imperfection.'

  She stared at them in horror. 'He does not know? He has been tricked into marrying someone like me. How could you do that?'

  She pushed herself to her feet and wished she could run out but was forced to make her usual slow, uneven passage to the door. The banns were being called today, the announcement had been sent to the newspaper, it was too late to warn him he had been sold a pig in a poke.

  Only when riding her gelding, Emperor, did she feel the equal of anyone else. When she was younger and recovering from the horrendous injury, whilst also trying to come to terms with the loss of her parents, she had often wished she had also died.

  Her leg still gave her pain but she suffered more from the loss of mobility, and the fact that she had to endure the pitying glances of those who saw her hobbling about the place. When she was stationary no one would know, she was a tall girl, slender but with the necessary feminine curves front and back. The good Lord had seen fit to bless her with an abundance of nut-brown hair and even she did not need convincing that her emerald eyes were her finest feature.

  Her apartment was on the ground floor and in one of the oldest parts of the Priory – no one bothered her there as the corridors and chambers were haunted by past residents. She was at home with her spectral companions and they were her solace and her company. She had no friends on the earthly plane.

  Her servants were those that had served her since before her parents died. Tom and his wife Polly took care of her well and kept her rooms and belongings immaculate. They had never been blessed with children of their own and she was their substitute daughter. The ghosts held no fears for them either.

  The door to this ancient part of the building was kept closed – her grandmother insisted it was because of the draught but everyone knew it was to keep the ghosts contained. The door swung open as she approached.

  'Thank you, Brother Francis, I am most obliged to you for your courtesy.'

  'And I to you, it is a pleasure to be of some small service.' The ghostly shape shimmered and dissolved until she could no longer see him, but she was aware he remained, as always, guarding the door.

  She was met by the comforting presence of her maid. 'Miss Eloise, what has upset you? You tell your old Polly all about it. You sit here, my love, and I'll fetch you some coffee and a nice slice of the plum cake you're so fond of.'

  'Just coffee, thank you, Polly. I'm going to change into my habit afterwards so could you please ask Tom to saddle the horses for us?'

  'You go into the parlour, Miss Eloise, there's a fine fire burning in there. The company is restless today, I reckon they know something untoward is about to happen.' This was how she referred to their ghostly companions. Polly bustled away unperturbed by having to literally walk through three other spectres.

  'Come with me, Brothers, and I will explain why the atmosphere here has changed, and not for the better.'

  If anyone had come in whilst she was speaking they would have thought her fit for a lunatic asylum as her companions were only visible to her. Polly and Tom sensed they were there and sometimes said they caught a glimpse of something from the corner of their eye, but she was the fortunate one they revealed themselves to.

  These three apparitions were monks who had once resided here. They had been cruelly murdered when the monasteries had been dissolved by King Henry and the magnificent building taken over by one of his favoured courtiers. Fortunately, they were not in any way destructive or unpleasant – at least not to her.

  They floated around her listening to her woes. By the end of her tale they had turned an ominous shade of grey. She knew from past experience that when they became dark in colour the more destructive they could be. They were perfectly capable of invading the rest of the house but chose to remain in the ancient corridors and rooms they had inhabited when they had been mortal.

  'You cannot marry this man, we do not allow it. You belong here with us where we can protect you from harm.' The speaker was the most vocal of the trio, Brother James, and he was also the most capable of doing harm. Sometimes he became so solid he was almost real. He could move objects violently and cause upset to anyone in his vicinity when he was angry.

  'I have no choice; my grandparents have already set things in motion. I doubt that he's any more thrilled than I am by this arranged marriage…'

  'He cannot marry you if he is dead. When he sets foot in the Priory we will take care of the matter for you. Then you can remain here and be our conduit to the human world.'

  For the first time since she had encountered these ghosts Eloise was afraid to be in their company. It took her a moment to regain her composure. 'That will not be necessary, but I thank you for your concern, Brother. I have no wish for him or anyone else to be harmed in any way by you and your companions.'

  The three shapes merged into one. The hair on the back of her neck stood up. They had never done this before and up until this moment she had never felt herself to be in any danger. Then the door swung open and Polly came in carrying a tray.

  'My word, miss, it's cold in here today. Sit by the fire, move away from the door and drink your coffee.'

  Before she could warn her, the tray flew from Polly's hands and smashed to the stone floor.

  'Get out of here. You're not welcome. I don't wish to communicate with you again today.' For some strange reason if she told them directly to vanish they had no option but to do so. Why she should have this connection with the other world she had no idea, but until today she had been grateful and thought herself blessed.

  She was about to drop to her knees and help her maid collect the broken shards of crockery but was waved away. 'No, clearing up is my job. Something's upset the company today. I hope you sent them packing.'

  'I have, Polly. I just told them I'm to be married in three weeks and will then have to live elsewhere. I realise now that was an error. It would have been better to pretend everything was going to remain the same.' She shuddered as she considered what mayhem the four monks could wreak if they decided to venture back into the central section of the Priory. This was occupied by her grandparents and would be where Lord Forsyth would be staying too.

  *

  Garrick made the necessary arrangements for his departure in two days' time and then set out for London and the unpleasant task of severing the connection with his mistress. Lady Sarah Dunstable, a wealthy young widow, had been his chere aimée for the past three years and he knew her to be a jealous woman. He was certain if he had not been in a passionate and tempestuous relationship with her he might well have been more accommodating when it came to selecting a bride.

  Sarah was a few years his senior, had been married briefly to an ancient peer who had left her a wealthy woman. He was not her first lover, and he was certain would not be her last. She enjoyed the company of gentlemen and had no intention of giving up her reckless independence by marrying for a second time.

  He had a friend who had married under similar circumstances himself but he had not ended the relationship and continued to visit his mistress leaving his unfortunate young wife at home with the infants.
r />   However much he might dislike the idea of marrying this girl he would not be unfaithful to her once the knot was tied. He would do his best to be a good husband and was certain that in time he could persuade her to fall in love with him. This would make life easier for his bride and no doubt for himself. Life was simpler for a gentleman in these circumstances as he could remove himself from the situation if he found it unpleasant and this option was not open to his wife.

  He travelled in a closed carriage as he always did when he visited Sarah – he had no wish to advertise his presence at her home. As always, the coachman turned the horses expertly through the archway and halted in the turning circle. A waiting groom kicked down the steps and opened the door.

  Garrick ignored the various members of staff who bowed and opened doors for him. He was not there to fraternise with servants, but to speak to Sarah and it was not something he was looking forward to.

  She greeted him with her usual blinding smile. She was a voluptuous beauty, he was going to miss what he had shared with her over these past few years.

  'My darling boy, what brings you here when you are not expected until next week?'

  Then she noticed he had not handed over his outdoor garments, was still holding his gloves in one hand and had his beaver under his arm. Her expression changed in an instant. Her eyes narrowed and she viewed him with disfavour.

  'I see. I am to be given my congé. I suppose I must be grateful you have come to break the connection in person and have not done so by a letter.'

  'I am to be married in three weeks' time, my lady, and have no option but to say farewell. I have loved every minute I have spent with you but we both knew one day it would come to this. I am just sorry I could not give you more warning.'

  Her smile returned. 'Good heavens, my love, there's no need to look so glum. Marry as you must, then return to me when you can. I'm prepared to wait.'

  'No, I intend to remain faithful to my wife. I am sorry, I know that might seem unnecessary, but I believe the vows I'm going to take must be held to.' He dipped into his inside pocket and placed his parting gift on the mantelshelf. He did not dare to risk approaching her. She was of a mercurial temperament and likely to try and hit him with the nearest heavy object.