Christmas Ghosts at the Priory

by Fenella J Miller

  On the first floor there were a dozen or more modest bedchambers which would be ideal for upper servants. He had seen enough. As he turned to leave the door behind him slammed shut of its own volition. Something icy began to squeeze his chest. Invisible hands were attempting to drain the life from him. How could this be? Were there a second set of spectres living here or had the monks managed to migrate across the inner courtyard?

  He recited the Lord's Prayer out loud whilst he forced his unwilling limbs to respond to his command. He managed to raise his right hand and press it against the heavy weight of the gold crucifix. The pressure on his chest vanished and he was able to breathe freely again.

  He staggered to the door his breath rasping in his throat, desperate to remove himself from the danger that stalked these corridors. Only by clinging onto the rope that served as a banister did he remain upright as he hurtled down the narrow staircase. The hair on the back of his neck stood up. They were following him. He was surrounded by malevolent spirits.

  'Our Father which art in heaven, hallowed be thy name,' he shouted at the top of his voice in the hope this would keep them at bay long enough for him to reach the exit. The door was closed and he'd been certain he'd left it open.

  His heart was pounding, his breathing becoming difficult again. He flung himself headfirst at the closed door. It wouldn't open. He continued to recite the prayer but it was becoming increasingly hard to continue.

  His knees buckled and his head fell forward and slammed painfully against the iron hinges. Then the door was flung open and he fell into the arms of his groom.

  'Get me out, lock the door behind me,' was all he managed to whisper before losing consciousness.

  He came around to find himself stretched out on a bed of straw in an empty stable. His man was kneeling at his side.

  'You stay put, my lord, I sent Bobby for the sledge. You've a nasty gash on your forehead from where you fell. I reckon you've got the concussion as well.'

  'Is the door to the gatehouse locked?'

  'It is, right and tight. There's something nasty living in there, sure enough. We never saw nothing but I felt it when I dragged you out.'

  Garrick was finding it easier to breathe. There was a makeshift bandage around his head and he raised his hand to touch it. It came away stained red. He needed sutures in the injury. He hoped there was someone living here who could do this as no physician could be fetched with the snow so deep.

  One thing was certain, his grandfather would never have arranged this union with Eloise if he'd known the true state of affairs at the Priory.

  *

  Eloise was admiring the garlands that had been stretched out across the floor in the orangery when a footman rushed in.

  'Miss Eloise, his lordship has had an accident at the Priory and they are bringing him back on the sledge. He will require stitches in his wound.'

  For a moment she was unable to comprehend what she'd just been told. Then her head cleared and she took charge.

  'He's too large to convey upstairs to his apartment without mishap so we must prepare a place to put him in one of the smaller reception rooms.'

  In her search for a music room she'd discovered several small chambers and, if she remembered correctly, one of them already had a daybed of sufficient length to accommodate him. She pushed aside her fears and concentrated on the task in hand.

  Until that moment she had been unaware Garrick had gone out and she swallowed a lump in her throat. Bates, the housekeeper, arrived at her side.

  'They are preparing what I'll need, miss, and I have instructed for them to be brought here to this chamber. I've stitched up many cuts and gashes over the past years but never treated anyone but servants and outside men.'

  'His lordship will be pleased you're experienced in this matter. If you weren't, Polly would have had to sew him together.' This sounded so ridiculous they both smiled.

  'The message from the stables said his lordship had stumbled in the snow and hit his head. He's not comatose so I don't think it can be anything too serious.'

  'I can hear the sledge pulling up outside.' Eloise gestured for the housekeeper to go. 'I'll remain here – please assist in any way you can.'

  Two maids were busy putting the linen on the daybed and a footman was rearranging the furniture to her satisfaction. A side table had been placed adjacent to the chaise longue ready for the items the housekeeper would need.

  'Bring a jug of watered wine – make sure that it's warm.' The footman nodded and went to fetch what she'd asked for.

  At times like this she felt her infirmity the most. She should be beside her future husband, holding his hand and comforting him, but even something as mundane as that was beyond her capabilities.

  There wasn't long to wait before she heard shuffling footsteps approaching the open door. She had expected to see Garrick brought in on a hurdle but instead he appeared on his own feet. He was ably supported by his two grooms. His face was blood-streaked, the bandage around his head sodden with his gore, but he smiled at her.

  'Don't look so perturbed, my dear, I've lost a lot of blood but once this damned cut is sewn up I'll be absolutely splendid.'

  'My housekeeper will do that for you. Your valet is coming with your nightshirt…'

  'Good God! I've no intention of remaining here and certainly not of removing my garments.'

  His vehemence reassured her that he was indeed in no danger. 'You will be more comfortable without your greatcoat – would you consent to take that off at least?'

  She stood to one side whilst his man, with the help of one of the grooms, expertly removed not only Garrick's greatcoat but his jacket and cravat as well. Next his boots were pulled off and he was settled on top of the coverlet. The room was pleasantly warm as she'd fortuitously arranged for every fire in the house to be lit until the new year.

  The housekeeper bustled in followed by a maid carrying the necessary items. Eloise took her position behind the patient's head so she could lean against the end of the daybed and still be able to rest her hand on his shoulders if necessary.

  He looked remarkably relaxed for a man who was about to be sewn up like a piece of material. She wasn't squeamish but was forced to grip tight to the daybed as the bandages were removed.

  The housekeeper had a pad of clean cloth ready in her hand. 'My lord, could I ask you to press this over the wound? It will stop the blood from flowing whilst I stitch.'

  Eloise wasn't sure how this was going to work as the pad would cover the injury thus making it impossible for stitches to be put in. Her worry was unnecessary as Garrick appeared to understand exactly what he was to do.

  Within a remarkably short space of time four sutures had been securely placed, a fresh bandage applied and his face wiped clean.

  'Thank you, you're obviously an expert.'

  The housekeeper curtsied and with a flick of her skirts vanished, followed by the maid carrying the tray. His valet had already poured a large pewter mug of the watered wine and handed it to his master.

  'You must drink all of it, Garrick, in order to replace the blood you've lost,' she told him sternly. He started to rise but she put her hands on his shoulders and pushed him down. 'No, remain where you are at least for an hour or two.'

  She manoeuvred herself around so she could sit on the end of the daybed. Without a second thought she lifted his stockinged feet and placed them in her lap. Then she gestured that his man should leave so they could be alone.

  'Now, tell me how you came to be injured.'

  She listened to his dreadful story and was appalled. 'We must pray that they cannot find their way here. If there is the remotest possibility we shall have to cancel the house party.'

  He drained the last of the wine, replaced the mug on the side table and leaned forward, his expression serious. 'I was wondering if there might be underground passages linking the two buildings – if so, that would explain how they came to be in the gatehouse.'

  'There are, I'd quite forgott
en. I'm certain there are none that come out this far so we'll be safe enough here.'

  'I cannot in all conscience allow anyone to move into the Priory at the moment. It would be far too dangerous.'

  'You can hardly expect the new tenant to live here, so far away from the stables and coach house. I sincerely wish you had never come, Garrick, and that instead we'd come to you.'

  His smile was rueful. 'As do I, my love, but I am here and we must make the best of it. I think we'd better speak to your grandparents, explain exactly what has transpired, and persuade them to leave here immediately after Christmas.'

  'Grandpapa's health has been failing rapidly, I'm not certain he would survive the journey. Anyway, he wishes to die here and be buried in the family mausoleum.'

  He sighed and leaned back. His eyes closed and she thought he'd drifted off to sleep. She would leave him to rest and go and seek out her relatives – word would have reached them and they would be anxious.

  'No, sweetheart, remain where you are. I was gathering my thoughts not sleeping.'

  She settled back loving the heavy weight of his legs across her lap. It took all her self-control not to explore the contours of his feet and calves with her fingers. What she felt for him could not possibly be love, but he stirred her senses in a most delightful way.

  'The banns were called last Sunday so we could be married in ten days' time. Would you be agreeable to bringing the ceremony forward?'

  'I'm prepared to do anything that will keep you safe. Are you thinking that once the knot is tied they will give up their pursuit?'

  'It's a possibility. I fear they might start attacking the grooms and outside men who reside close to the Priory.'

  'I'll go back and try and speak to them…'

  He moved so fast she had no time to reprimand him for grabbing her arms so firmly. 'You'll do no such thing, Eloise. Do I make myself quite clear?'

  He was no more than a few inches from her, she should have been frightened by his anger but the opposite was true. His violent reaction was because he wished to keep her safe and she couldn't fault him for that.

  Instead of struggling, of complaining at his firm grip, she relaxed and leaned into his embrace. What happened next was inevitable. He swung his legs aside just long enough to lift her onto his lap and then replaced them on the daybed.

  Before she realised what was happening she was stretched out beside him being thoroughly kissed. He made her feel perfect, like other young ladies and not somehow inferior because of her injury.

  How things might have ended she had no idea as she was just following his lead. Then she was rudely tipped onto the floor and landed ignominiously on her derrière.

  'Go away, Eloise, every time I kiss you I find my resolve slipping away.'

  It was all very well for him to dismiss her so cavalierly but getting to her feet was no easy task. Then his arm came down, slid around her waist and hoisted her upright as if she weighed no more than a bag of feathers.

  'It would serve you right, my lord, if your stitches came apart and you had to undergo the procedure a second time.'

  He had rolled so his back was to her and she heard him chuckle. She viewed him with disfavour for a moment and then smiled. She waited until she was by the door so even if he wanted to he could not reach her before she escaped.

  'I have decided, Garrick, that not only will I marry you in ten days' time I will also become your true wife. I've read in one of the ancient books in the library here that only a pure maiden can communicate with beings from the other side.'

  She was out of the door and had closed it firmly behind her before he had the opportunity to reply. From the way he reacted whenever she was in his arms she doubted it would be too difficult to make him forget his vow.

  *

  Garrick was tempted to go after her but it would be an unfair contest. He wished for her sake that she could move as freely as he could. What bee had got into her bonnet to make her offer such an ultimatum? Apart from a dull ache where he had struck his head, he was fully recovered and had no intention of lingering where he was a moment longer.

  He looked around for his boots and topcoat but they were nowhere in sight. His valet must have taken them away with him in the misguided notion that removing them would keep his master resting. The floors here were boards, not flagstones like the Priory, so it would be no hardship walking in his stockinged feet.

  For good measure he drained the last mug of watered wine and feeling in good spirits he went in search of the library. He recalled it had been in the vicinity of the study which was at the rear of the building on the right-hand side.

  On emerging from his temporary chamber, he took stock of his abrupt surroundings. The passageway was deserted, no sign of a lurking footman to ask for directions. He put out a hand to steady himself and realised he was a trifle bosky. The wine had not been as diluted as it should have been.

  He made his way to the end of the passageway and then began to open doors in the hope of locating the missing library. He was laughing whilst he searched. He was the one who was missing, not the library.

  The third door he pushed open was the one he wanted. There was a fire burning – how thoughtful of Eloise to have this lit so he could be warm. To his delight he saw a comfortable chair adjacent to the fire and he flopped into it. It would do no harm to rest until he felt more the thing. He stretched out his legs to the blaze and fell asleep.

  Chapter Seven

  Eloise was surprised, but delighted, to see that both her grandfather and grandmother were in the drawing room enjoying a mid-morning tray of freshly baked pastries and a jug of coffee.

  'Come in, my dear girl, we were just talking about you,' Grandpapa said as he patted the space beside him on the sofa.

  'You must be feeling better today, I can't remember the last time you joined us for refreshments at this time.'

  His smile was warm. 'I do have more energy today. How is your young man? We heard he met with some sort of accident at the stables.'

  She explained what had actually happened and reassured them that Garrick would be perfectly well apart from having stitches in his head. When she mentioned they intended to get married as soon as it was legally possible the two exchanged glances.

  'I think that would be wise, my love, as he can protect you better than I.'

  'I know we have only known each other a short while but I'm certain we've spent more time together than most betrothed couples do before they are wed. I intend to share his bed…'

  'Eloise, I've no wish to hear you speak of such things. How could you mention…' Her grandmother was too shocked to continue. Grandpapa winked.

  'I beg your pardon, forgive me for my indiscretion. Do I have your permission to speak to the housekeeper and have the wedding breakfast rearranged for the Monday after next? I shall also send word to the curate to be here to perform the ceremony.'

  'My dear girl, I think it might be best if you were married in the village church and not the family chapel.'

  There was no need for him to explain his reasoning – she knew the ghosts could invade this building as it was attached to the Priory itself.

  Her grandmother had now recovered sufficiently to join in the conversation. 'I don't believe the banns were called there so without a licence the wedding cannot be held anywhere but the chapel.'

  'I'd not thought of that, Grandmama. We must somehow obtain the licence.' She pushed herself clumsily to her feet. 'Excuse me, I shall speak to Garrick. He will know what to do.'

  As she progressed slowly towards the room in which he was resting she met his valet hurrying towards her. 'Miss Eloise, his lordship has vanished. I returned with a neckcloth, fresh jacket and clean boots and he was gone.'

  'Have you searched anywhere?'

  'No, miss, not as yet. It's not my place to do so without permission.'

  'You have it – I'll enlist the help of our footmen. He cannot have gone far dressed as he is.'

  The nearest door led int
o an anteroom and this held a bell-strap. She pulled it hard and waited impatiently for her summons to be answered.

  'His lordship is missing. I wish you to search for him and get others to help. I shall return to the drawing room. You will inform me of your progress.'

  Her grandparents did not seem unduly bothered by this event. 'He cannot have gone far, my dear girl, he will be found safe and well somewhere in the house. I'm certain nothing untoward has taken place this time.'

  An hour later the house had been searched from top to bottom and Garrick was still not found. Now she was truly worried as were her grandparents.

  'The only explanation is that in the confusion from his injury he has ventured outside. Dressed as he was he will freeze to death if he's not located soon.'

  'I thought you said he was perfectly lucid when you spoke to him, Eloise,' Grandpapa said.

  'He was, which makes me terrified that somehow he has been spirited away.'

  'I'm sure you're worrying unnecessarily, there will be a perfectly rational explanation for his disappearance.'

  'Grandmama, I pray that you're right. I wish I could search myself but it would take me too long.'

  'Why don't you send for his two grooms? Get them and his valet to go from top to bottom of the house again. I'm sure one of them will locate him.'

  'I'll do that.' She picked up the small brass bell that was kept on a side table for her personal use and rang it vigorously. The door flew open almost immediately. The footman nodded, bowed and retreated. There was nothing more she could do apart from worry.

  The remainder of the day dragged past and Garrick had still not been located. Eventually, she decided she would have to look for herself however long it took and however painful it was to limp up and down the long corridors.

  Her grandparents had dined together and then retired. The mood in the house was sombre. If nothing catastrophic had happened to him then why had he not appeared by now? The grooms and his valet had joined the outside search parties – they declined to come in until he'd been found. She refused to believe he'd perished in the snow. There must be another explanation.