* * * *
Weary, Harriet forced herself to wake. She felt so safe in Arthur’s bed. Though, Harriet didn’t like that he would leave her side for their first evening in Ayercombe Manor. True, he had warned her that he had issues that had to be addressed, but she found herself oddly out of sorts.
Harriet withheld her true purpose from her husband for her accompaniment to Ayercombe Manor. How could she ask him to place faith in something she herself didn’t understand? All seemed so real. She had convinced herself that she truly had some sort of gift. Here now, she wasn’t so certain.
Walking into the room that had been occupied by Sophia, Harriet had been encompassed by a strange, overwhelming sensation of a presence that she couldn’t explain. It scared her.
In London, she had come to the conclusion she needed to find the ring, the ring that she had given back to Arthur when she had left him. He had told her that it had been lost. For some reason, she felt it was here.
Harriet never mentioned her desire to find the ring to Arthur. The thought would distress him. On their arrival, his pride shone in his eyes for her. She didn’t want that light to fade. He had suffered greatly from scandal. He didn’t need another wife who rumors swirled about and thought strange by Society.
True, there was a difference, though, between Sophia and herself. This was her home. Her people. Poor Sophia. No matter if it had been a much-sought union between families, Sophia had been a desperate woman from the impression Harriet had gathered.
A woman who loved a man who did not return her love…not in the manner she desired. A woman who lost her child. In turn, lost her hope. There had been no acceptance of her here at Ayercombe Manor. A woman lost…so lost she saw no hope except through death. Harriet shuddered at the thought.
The room suddenly darkened. The time wasn’t that late. The weather, though, sounded harsh outside. Wind and rain beat heavily on the window. A storm had arose while she slept.
“My lady.”
She turned over to find Sadie in the doorway, unsure whether to enter into his lordship’s room. Harriet slipped out of the bed.
“Come in, Sadie,” Harriet said. “I need to wake. I won’t sleep tonight otherwise.”
Sadie eased over and helped her with her wrapper. “I wanted only to see if you would like me to bring you up a tray. I doubt his lordship will return before dinner, not with the weather.”
Harriet grimaced at the thought, but realized even without the weather Arthur’s presence would be doubtful. He searched for Bessie. It would not be an easy task. Neither he nor Harriet believed it would be as easy as sauntering into Beebe Manor. He needed to take her relatives by surprise, explaining his need for the visit this evening before they received word of his return.
“Something light would be lovely,” Harriet said. She looked past Sadie into the adjoining room. “I will be in the pink room.”
Swallowing her obscure fear, Harriet tied her wrapper tightly about her and walked back into the room that made her shiver. She had decided she must find the ring. It was in here. She had to find it, whether or not the room was haunted.
“Yes, my lady,” Sadie said and followed her mistress into the room. “They say she is still here.”
Harriet glanced back at Sadie. “Who?”
“The other Lady Daneford,” Sadie replied. “I know you felt it. I saw it in your eyes when you walked in the room. I wanted you to know you’re not the only one. The staff hears things. Why, Rosie swears she has seen her.”
“Sophia? It is nonsense,” Harriet proclaimed with more confidence than she felt. “But it is not unusual. The people around here have an active imagination.”
“If you say so, my lady.” Sadie hesitated. “Miss Harriet, I hope you will forgive me. I have never mentioned what I have seen. I never will. I listened to everyone downstairs. They are excited you have returned. They believe you are here to stop the evil.”
“Evil? Oh, Sadie…if Lord Daneford hears you talk this way…”
“He won’t hear it from me. If you would like, I will stay with you.”
Harriet studied her maid for a brief moment. Sadie understood. Harriet did not bother to try to give some sort of an explanation. She said simply, “Thank you.”
A sense of relief flooded her. Silly perhaps, but she had no desire to be alone in her search for the ring.
Harriet wasted no time. She headed straight toward what called to her…the dressing case. Sitting in front of the mirror, she stared at her reflection for a brief moment. Her eyes mirrored her apprehension. Oh, what did she think she was doing?
She took a deep breath and began to pull out the drawers. She caught sight of her prize straight away in the upper right-hand side. It seemed the only piece that had been left after that fateful night. Odd that it had been left in this manner.
“She was obsessed with the ring, they said downstairs,” Sadie said over Harriet’s shoulder. “The other Lady Daneford. It is what you have found. Your ring. I remember it. I said nothing to the others, my lady, but I listened.
“The ring was his lordship’s mother’s. It is said it was special to her. That is why his lordship gave you the ring. It was the reason the other Lady Daneford stole it from him. I heard them say she used to sit where you are now and stare at it for hours.”
“How do they know what has gone on? How do they know about the ring? They should not be talking of the family.”
“My lady, it is because they love the family. They care about his lordship and …you. There is more I heard from Rosie. She was once your cousin’s maid.”
Harriet realized she shouldn’t encourage Sadie to listen to gossip, much less repeat it, but Sadie had been a loyal servant. Sadie had not left her side and supported her during her darkest hours without a word. Sadie would not repeat gossip unless she felt Harriet needed to be aware of what was said.
“Bessie. She was Bessie’s maid?” Harriet asked. “Should she not have spoken to his lordship if she has information?”
“She spoke to his lordship,” Sadie acknowledged. “She doesn’t know where her mistress has disappeared. Rosie was told her services as a maid would no longer be needed. She is scared, my lady.”
“Scared? I don’t understand, Sadie. Why would Bessie’s maid be scared?”
“Because she believes something bad has happened to her mistress. When the other Lady Daneford died, her maid disappeared without a word. Rosie is scared the same will happen to her.”
Harriet went silent. She dared not consider the insinuation. Harriet said, “She is afraid for her life. If she is afraid for her life, then she must fear for Bessie.”
“They say she has returned for vengeance.”
Her words sent a shiver down Harriet’s spine. The atmosphere altered in the room. Once more, Harriet felt a chill. Harriet shook her head. What Sadie was saying was an impossibility. Though, she had learned never to dismiss the unthinkable.
“I refuse to believe that Lady Sophia would return to haunt others for vengeance. It makes no sense. I well imagine the pain she endured while she lived, but I never heard she wanted to harm others. While she was here on earth, she only hurt herself…” Harriet’s words faded into the air. She looked up at Sadie. “You believe in ghosts.”
Harriet said the words not as a question, but a fact. Sadie made no protest. Her face betrayed her thoughts before she uttered a word. “Yes, my lady. I believe that ghosts are lost souls…a memory of what once was, lingering, searching for a semblance of peace…of restoration of wrongs once done. I did not know Lady Sophia, but if I were you, I would not dismiss the rumors. I felt it, too, the moment we walked into this room.
“She envied you, my lady. You had everything she wanted. Envy is a powerful force. I do not want to see you harmed.”
Harriet was deeply moved at that moment. She took a deep breath and forced a laugh. “I believe we are talking crazy, Sadie. They will all think us mad.”
Sadie did not smile, nor did she take her mist
ress’ words to heart. “I am not leaving you.”
Harriet took comfort with the thought. She reprimanded herself. She should have never let her imagination take root. She supposed it mattered little. She had what she had come for…the ring. Reaching over, she picked it up. Nothing. She felt nothing.
She stared at it. How absolutely lovely…brilliant. The stones sparkled in the candlelight, mesmerizing. She slipped it on her finger.
It came…the vision. Clear and vivid. No fog. No haze to sift through.
Meriwether stood in the middle of a room, the drawing room here in Ayercombe Manor. It had changed little. She recognized it readily enough.
Meriwether looked disheveled, his clothes ruffled much like he had slept in them; his eyes bloodshot. “She didn’t come. I tell you, something is wrong.”
“Frederick, please leave me with my brother.”
Harriet watched a reluctant young Frederick Hammett slowly withdraw, slamming the door behind him. Meriwether shook his head. “Percival, believe me.”
“Captain Burke is furious, Meriwether! He wants to know where is wife has gone. He has called you out! Did you set a rendezvous with her?”
“No…yes…not like you are insinuating.”
Meriwether fell back into a high back chair. Running his hands through his hair, he shook his head. “Georgiana…sent a note to me. She agreed to meet with me. She wanted to know about the child…It was foolish of me to bait her, but I wanted so desperately to see her alone.”
Harriet had never seen a man cry, but tears fell down Meriwether’s face. He wiped them back harshly. “That was the note that was intercepted. I wrote her to meet down at the old Dartmouth Hall.” He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a letter. He gave it to Percival. “See—she had no intention of running away with me, though I begged her. She told me…she told me she loved her husband. He had given her what I could not and she would never do him any harm. She told me…she had the life she wanted. She had her family.”
“She wanted only to know about the child,” Percival said in a low-cutting voice. “Good Gawd! Meriwether, you were going to tell her about James…”
Then as quickly as it appeared, it faded. Harriet sat staring, confused, in the mirror. She didn’t understand. She knew she was supposed to, but she didn’t. She kept going over all that she had seen, trying to make sense of it.
She closed her eyes and concentrated. James. Who was James…no, it couldn’t be…not James. It was not all that bothered her. Her mother…
Suddenly, Harriet had a sudden uncanny feeling she was being watched. She opened her eyes to a blinding light reflecting in the mirror. She turned.
Harriet saw nothing but the bright light. Across the room, a white glow shimmered in a haze. Slowly a figure emerged, an apparition. A woman, by all appearances. She wore a black cape with the hood up, covering her face, but her eyes shone…streaming a heart-wrenching sadness.
Such sadness…it touched Harriet’s heart. The apparition approached her and then halted. The hood fell back, exposing her face. Harriet had known…it was Sophia.
For a moment, it occurred to Harriet that what she saw wasn’t real. Sadie’s words about ghosts—what had she said? A ghost is a memory of what once was, lingering, searching for a semblance of peace…of restoration of wrongs once done. Could a soul’s conscience bind them in this realm? Disregard the boundaries of death?
The apparition turned slightly…seemingly beseeching her. Could it be it wanted her to follow? She gazed straight at Harriet…to hurry?
Sadie cautioned Harriet, warned her, the ghost of Sophia might well hold her responsible for the failures in her own life…but it was not what Harriet felt. Harriet felt an overpowering feeling of someone calling to her for help. She couldn’t dismiss it. She had no time to think…to consider her action. She reacted. She followed.
Harriet raced behind the glow, down the front staircase, through the open door and into the night. Wind swirled around her, but the rain had ceased. The darkness lightened with the full moon above her. The clouds dissipated, removing the gloom of the nocturnal despair. She hurried. She had to hurry. She could not lose the glow floating effortlessly before her.
In the far distance, Harriet heard someone call her name over and over again. She ignored it. She couldn’t be deterred from the pull. She hadn’t a choice. She had to continue…she had to follow.
She rushed along a path through the garden, down the lane away from the cliffs…from the ocean and the waves pounding the rocks…away from where Sophia leaped to her death. The ground beneath her feet soaked her slippers. The wind whipped harshly against her, cutting her to the quick…chilling her to the bone.
The path narrowed into the woods. She pushed back the wild undergrowth, ignoring the briars and vines. Then suddenly she recognized where she was. Although she could see nothing of the house, she recognized the lane. In the twilight, a thicket of close-ranked trees blocked her view, but she knew. It was Dartmouth Hall.
How…how did she get here so quickly on foot? She hadn’t time to contemplate her situation. The light did not stop, but traveled over the grass-grown path toward the ruins of the mansion.
Fear emerged. Ramblings thoughts consumed her. What if this…this ghost…this spirit wished her harm? Arthur had never loved Sophia…Sophia had been hurt and wounded by her. What was wrong with her...what was she doing? Was she mad? She was doing exactly what Arthur had feared. She had promised him she would make him proud. Now, the whole of Ayercombe Manor would think her a lunatic!
Intense suspicion swelled within her in the still night. Scared, she stopped. She was terrified. Her fear numbed her brain. She didn't know what to do.
The glow halted and turned to Harriet. Panic seized Harriet. The apparition beckoned Harriet, bestowing a look of contempt, not anger…not rage. Contempt of what…her lack of courage? Harriet couldn’t tell. The figure, though, moved toward her. Harriet reached out and touched the air. It was cold, but nothing else. She felt no evil, only a sense of urgency.
Oh, she must be a fool! She walked up to the entrance and eased open the battered door. It squeaked and she jumped. The cracks in the walls and the broken windows allowed the full moon to give the house a strange, eerie radiance.
Harriet lingered in the doorway. The house was in disarray, shabby and dirty. Now, Harriet felt a cold, foul evil. The apparition floated forward, urging her onward. Harriet said a prayer and followed.
Her footsteps against the floor echoed peculiarly throughout the deserted house. She followed the glow down a hall where there were no windows, till darkness engulfed her.
“Sophia! Sophia!” Harriet cried in terror. “Do not leave me!”
There was no answer…only the glow reappeared, brighter. Harriet could see. She walked along to the end of the hall. A door swung back off its hinge. It opened to some sort of cellar.
Harriet hesitated. Her heart pounded so loudly, she thought it would burst through her chest. It was so dark…so dreadfully dark. She backed away. Then a voice emerged in the blackness.
“Harriet.” Muffled, but Harriet heard her name. “Harriet.”
Suddenly, Harriet wasn’t afraid. The voice…the voice soothed her. She followed the sound. At a slow pace, Harriet descended down the stairs, one step at a time.
A bright light greeted her. She turned her head to the glare. Then she saw.
{“Here, Georgiana, get in quickly. Henry is coming. You can’t let him catch you here.”
“I don’t know. I don’t know.”
Harriet caught sight of the woman…her mother. Georgiana. Her eyes filled with worry and fear. Harriet couldn’t see the other voice, but she saw well a long shadow flickering against the wall, urging her mother in a dark hole.
“Don’t worry. It is a priest’s hole. Many a Catholic priest hid here during the reign of Queen Elizabeth. They survived. You will also. I will double back when it is safe. Henry will never know you were here and you can go back to being the hap
pily married couple you so desire.”
Georgiana glanced back nervously over her shoulder. She gripped the hand. “Hurry. I do not like it here and…Harriet will awake from her nap soon.”
“Trust me.”
Harriet watched Georgiana moved into the small space. To her amazement, the panel moved behind the woman, securing her into the priest’s hole…locking her into a prison.
Harriet cried out. “No. Mother! Mother!”}
Harriet felt her body shake uncontrollably. She fell back into a darkness. She couldn’t see. Her eyes opened and she couldn’t see! The most ominous sensation overpowered her…the smell of death…death. She bolted into a sitting position.
“Is she back?”
A voice. She heard a voice. She covered her face with her hands. What had happened to her? Someone embraced her…rocked her tenderly.
“Harriet. Harriet.”
“Arthur,” Harriet uttered incoherently. “Arthur.”
Blinking her eyes, the room came into focus. She was lying in Arthur’s bed. She struggled to get up, but hands pushed her gently back on the pillows.
“Thank God! I feared for you, my love. I knew you should have never come back at this time. I should have never relented.” Arthur took her hand and kissed it. “Lie back and rest.”
“What do you mean? Arthur, I have to go. Dartmouth Hall. She’s there. Arthur. My mother…she’s trapped. I have to save her.”
“Harriet.” Arthur spoke her name in a strange manner. She saw it in his eyes…his look. A subtle change had come over him. He thought her mad!
She pushed back against him. “No, Arthur. You don’t understand. I have to go. I have to go.”
Arthur refused to allow her to leave her bed. Harriet glanced over at Sadie, whose eyes reflected her own concern. Harriet grasped Arthur’s shirt. “Please, Arthur, listen to me. My mother needs me. She’s trapped…trapped and can’t get out. I have to go. I have to go.”
Seductive Lies Page 20
