by Cindy Winget
Theo gave him an exasperated look. “Why would she be hiding?”
“I don’t know. You tell me,” he said, trying to hide a smile. He liked it when Theo gave him that look. It was quite endearing. He had a notion that he could coax even more smiles from her while here at Hill House, and he was eager to try, but damned if he didn’t love to see her exasperated! Turning away from her for fear that she may see his mirth, he said, “We haven’t tried the library yet.”
The two of them walked in that direction, Luke casually peering out the windows as they passed. It was starting to get dark, and he wished to catch a glimpse of the sunset. To his amazement, he saw a figure standing on the terrace.
“What the…” he breathed to himself. Leaving Theo’s side, he changed course and walked toward the door that would lead him outside. “Eleanor! What do you think you are doing!?”
Eleanor was leaning backwards over the railing of the verandah, looking up at the great stone tower that housed the library. Her back was bent so far as she gazed up at the edifice, that Luke was surprised she hadn’t already fallen over the railing. The verandah was quite tall with a manmade waterfall and stream just below her. From this angle she could seriously injure herself. The sharp, jagged rocks would tear gashes into her skin and perhaps even break a bone.
“Eleanor!” he tried again as he hurried to her.
She didn’t respond or look at him. Her eyes were glassy and blank.
Luke reached her just as she was about to slip. Wrapping his arms around her waist, he pulled her to safety.
“What do you think you’re doing!?” he screamed at her.
Eleanor blinked a few times, coming back to her senses. “Luke? What are you doing here?”
“Preventing you from falling over the railing, that’s what!”
“What are you talking about?”
Just then Theo arrived on the scene. “What happened?” she asked in alarm.
“Eleanor almost fell over the railing and onto the rocks below,” Luke told her. “If I hadn’t been here to catch her, she would have!”
“I was?” asked Eleanor, sounding confused.
“Bring her inside, she’s freezing!” said Theo, rubbing Eleanor’s arms.
Luke swept Eleanor up and brought her inside the house, trying not to grunt with the effort. He carried her to the sitting room where they spent much of their time and placed her upon the couch. Grabbing up the poker, he stirred the dying embers in the fireplace before stoking the small flames with a handheld bellows, coaxing it back to life. He strategically placed a number of thin sticks in the hearth, the flames greedily licked at them.
He had become the official fire starter of Hill House, and he rather liked it, this feeling of being useful. He doubted very much that Dr. Montague knew how to build a fire and in a place like Hill House, the heater would be almost useless, if it was even updated. The place was too expansive for heating that way to be practical or cost-effective.
Walking over to a closet, he found a moth-eaten, but presumably clean, blanket and draped it over Eleanor’s shoulders. He sat down in a chair by the fire, glancing at Theo as he did so. She had a peculiar look upon her face. He couldn’t quite place it.
“What?” he asked.
“Nothing.”
But it wasn’t nothing. Theo continued to look at him with that same expression, and it occurred to him what it was he was looking at. Admiration. He hadn’t recognized it for what it was. Nobody had looked at him with anything but lust or suspicion for as long as he could remember. Not since he had hit puberty, filled out, and began stealing small trinkets from his aunt’s friends in order to pay off gambling debts.
The look unnerved him. He felt like he now had to measure up to some imaginary image she was beginning to build up in her head about him, and he wasn’t confident in his ability to make good on those expectations.
He was saved from his thoughts by Dr. Montague entering the room. “So how did the exploring go this afternoon?”
“Luke just discovered Eleanor in a precarious situation,” Theo informed him.
“What happened?” asked Dr. Montague, the smile that formerly graced his face sliding off.
“We found Eleanor leaning way out over the verandah,” explained Theo.
“Whatever for?” Dr. Montague turned his gaze upon Eleanor, and the question had become hers.
She stared at the floor, not meeting anyone’s eyes. “I don’t know why. I used to get these bouts at home.”
“Bouts?”
“Yes. My imagination would run wild and I would have…hallucinations, I guess you could call them. I was having one when Luke found me. I imagined that the entire house was engulfed in flames, all but the tower.”
“How very strange,” said Dr. Montague. “Does this happen often?”
Eleanor shrugged noncommittally.
“It’s likely due to your isolation,” said a new voice.
They all turned as one and found Valdemar sitting in a large wing-backed chair in the corner, a small lamp lighting his lap where sat a leather-bound book. Had he been sitting there watching them this entire time? The thought caused a lump to form in Luke’s throat.
“John,” Valdemar indicated Dr. Montague, “has told me about your family situation. I believe it probable that being isolated from others, besides your ill mother—whom I warrant wasn’t great company—brought on these ‘hallucinations.’”
Eleanor, looking uncomfortable, said, “You should conduct your research in the library.”
“What?” asked a puzzled Dr. Montague.
“The library. You should do your experiments in there. I feel a presence whenever I’m near.”
Dr. Montague swallowed, looking uncomfortable himself.
“Did something happen in the library?” Luke asked astutely. “In your research, did you come across a crime committed in this house?”
“Well…that is to say…” stammered Dr. Montague.
“A crime happened in the library?” cried Theo. “And you didn’t tell us? Was there a murder!?”
“Calm down, Theodora. There is nothing to get worked up over. I didn’t tell you the full history of Hill House because I wanted this trip to be scientific, not swayed by ghost stories and fantasies.”
“I think we deserve to know the whole truth,” said Theo. “Afterall, we have to live here for three months.”
Luke chuckled. “You knew the house was haunted. Hence the reason the good doctor wanted to come here. Everyone knows that a violent crime is the usual reason for apparitions to be hanging around a place.”
Theo glared at him, clearly insulted.
“Glare all you want, doll, but you know I speak the truth.”
“Let’s all go to the dining room for dinner,” said Dr. Montague. “We’re already late, and I’ll tell you the entire sordid tale.”
Chapter Ten
“There you are! I was beginning to think no one was coming,” exclaimed Miss Dudley when the somber group wandered into the dining room. As she laid out the food—meatloaf, roasted herb potatoes, steamed peas and carrots, and the requisite hot dinner rolls and butter—Dr. Montague walked to the office and returned holding a folder. He sat down but didn’t load up a plate as the rest were doing. As the others began eating, he started his story.
“After the death of Hugh Crain, the two daughters quarreled over who should inherit Hill House. With much deliberation and heated words, it fell to the older sister to get the house since the younger had married and already had a place at her husband’s house.
“The elder sister, Agnes, lived in Hill House for many years, secluded and alone. A veritable recluse.” At this junction, Dr. Montague opened his folder and brought forth a picture of Agnes Crain. He handed it to Luke, who gazed at her wizened features while Dr. Montague continued. “She was lonely so one day she decided to hire a companion for herself. She traveled to the village and found a young woman who was willing to attend to her needs and keep her company.�
�
“Isn’t it so strange that people used to do that?” Theo unexpectedly interrupted. “To think that you could simply ask for a companion to come live with you because you’re lonely.” She shook her head with a slight chuckle, taking a sip from her water glass.
Eleanor ducked her head. The long eleven years spent with her shrew of a mother would have gone by a lot faster with a companion. Someone she could have confided in. Someone she could have vented to when her mother’s exacting expectations drove her nearly insane. Someone to take some of the burden from her shoulders. She realized with a start that Dr. Montague was continuing the story and quickly clued back into the conversation.
“However, the quarreling did not cease between the two sisters, for you see, the younger sister, Penelope, felt entitled to some old family heirlooms: antique furniture, a set of gold-rimmed dishes, jewelry, and the like.” He produced a second picture, this time of the younger sister and handed it to Luke. As Luke accepted the photograph of Penelope, he passed along the photograph of Agnes to Eleanor. “Agnes never gave Penelope any of these heirlooms, insisting that they went with the assets of the house. In time, Agnes passed away from pneumonia.”
Eleanor thought about the car she and her own sister had quarreled about, until she had dared to steal it out from under her.
“After that, a lawsuit began between Penelope and the companion,” stated Dr. Montague. “The companion, a miss Abagail Sutton, claimed that Agnes had signed over the property to her before her death. Penelope insisted that Abagail had tricked an old lady into signing away property that legally belonged to her. In any case, Abagail won the lawsuit and lived here for many years.” He passed around a news article about the lawsuit. Eleanor handed the photograph of Agnes to Theo, who gasped upon seeing it.
“What is it?” Eleanor asked in alarm.
“Sorry,” said Theo. “I was just surprised is all. I saw this cat earlier in the cellar.” She held up the photograph, and Eleanor took greater care in looking at it. Agnes was sitting upon a flowered settee, and in her arms was a large black cat with one eye missing.
“How could you have seen this cat earlier?” Dr. Montague interrupted. “That photograph was taken fifty years ago. The cat would be long dead by now.”
“I know. That’s why I was surprised,” said Theo. “But I swear. It was him!”
“How can you be sure it wasn’t a different cat? There are many black cats in the world,” piped up Valdemar.
“But not with only one eye,” Theo insisted. “Although you may be right. Now that I look at it more closely, this cat has no white fur on its chest. The cat I saw had a distinct marking of a hangman’s noose about its neck.”
“A hangman’s noose, you say?” asked Dr. Montague.
“Yes. Why?”
“The cat in that picture was one of the things the sisters quarreled about. Hugh Crain bought the cat for them as a way to help relieve their grief after the death of their mother. Penelope thought that since Agnes got to keep the house, she should at least get to keep the cat. After a particularly heated discussion about the pet, Penelope was about to leave the house when she discovered the cat underneath her carriage. She lured it out and hung it from the front tree with her hair ribbon.”
“What an awful thing to do!” cried Theo.
“If she couldn’t have it, then no one could,” said Dr. Montague. “During the court proceedings, Abagail made the mistake of bringing up this bit of unsavory history and wrongfully accused Penelope of sneaking into Hill House at night and stealing things. One thing that Penelope Crain had always maintained, however, was that she would never have gone to Hill House at night for any reason, even to steal old family heirlooms that rightfully belonged to her.
“In retaliation, Penelope accused Abagail of neglecting Agnes to the point that she died. Even though Abagail had won the house, Penelope slandered her name to the people of the village. The villagers had always been on Penelope’s side anyway, and even went so far as to send threatening letters to Abagail. Eventually this drove the woman mad and she committed suicide.”
“That’s so sad,” murmured Theo, fiddling with the long string of pearls about her neck.
“Let me guess, this happened in the library,” said Luke. He was leaning back in his chair, one arm thrown over the back.
Dr. Montague nodded. “She hanged herself from the balcony.”
So that’s it! thought Eleanor. The reason I feel the way I do when I look to that spot in the library.
“After her death, the house was sold. The family only stayed a few days before moving back to the city. Penelope Crain showed up the first day they moved into Hill House and began to rant and rail at them. Things evidently got pretty heated, and she was taken into police custody. Subsequently, she was never heard from again. In time, the family sold the house and the cycle continued, with owners or renters only ever staying a week or two before moving back out. Up until Luke’s uncle bought the house twenty years ago, in the fall of 1905.” Dr. Montague inclined his head in Luke’s direction.
“Lucky us,” replied Luke dryly.
Ignoring him, Dr. Montague continued, “He planned on turning it into a hotel or a bed and breakfast, but he passed away before his dream was realized and ownership of Hill House reverted to his widow. The Sandersons put in indoor plumbing, electricity, and a telephone line before moving in, but ended up staying only a few days in the house themselves before moving back to the city.”
“Did your aunt ever mention the reason why?” Theo asked Luke.
“No. Not to me, anyway.”
Eleanor, who was deep in thought, had barely registered the rest of the story. “How strange,” she murmured to herself.
Evidently, Luke overheard her because he asked, “What’s strange?”
“What Dr. Montague just said about Penelope Crain.” They were all looking at her.
Luke’s right eyebrow crooked upward. “That she would never steal the family heirlooms?”
“No. Penelope stated that she would never have gone to Hill House at night for any reason,” Eleanor emphasized.
“Hmm…you’re right,” mused Dr. Montague, looking down at his paperwork. “That’s how the article I read stated it. I never thought much about it, but you may be on to something. I knew hiring you as my assistant would be a good idea!”
“So, the woman doesn’t like to be in the house at night. That hardly proves anything,” pointed out the formerly silent Valdemar.
Dr. Montague frowned at him. “It could. After all, the episode that Theo and Eleanor had with knocking on the walls occurred at night.”
“Yes, but you found the cold spot during the day.”
“Yes, but that was more of an echo. Something that had formerly been there but wasn’t at the moment. Or wasn’t as strong as the specters that came out at night.”
“That’s what you are basing this off of? Two instances of perceived paranormal phenomena?” Valdemar scoffed. “As a scientist, you should know that it will take much more than that to convince anyone that ghosts exist. People have been studying this subject for decades. Do you really think you’re going to come in here and prove it this quickly, based on that!?”
“Now wait just a minute, Valdemar, I haven’t said anything about proving ghosts exist. I realize that we still have a lot of work to do here, I am simply stating that I think Eleanor may be onto something. We should figure out why Penelope Crain was reluctant to be at Hill House at night, when she had lived her entire childhood here.”
Valdemar remained silent for a moment. “I guess that has merit. It’s worth looking into at least.”
“Thank you.” Dr. Montague turned and looked at his three assistants. “I want the three of you to search the library and the old bedroom that once belonged to the Crain girls. Perhaps we can turn up an old journal or something.”
As Valdemar began a somewhat heated discussion with Dr. Montague on just what exactly he believed was needed in order for Dr. Mont
ague to prove his theory, Theo whispered to Eleanor, “Let’s get out of here. I need some fresh air.”
The two girls walked out to the side verandah. They stepped down a set of steps leading to the grounds and followed a brick path to the back of the house where they encountered the man-made stream and waterfall that Eleanor had almost fallen on top of. Following the stream, they came upon a small pond full of lily pads and floating algae. Frog spawn bubbled out along the sides, proof that a thriving ecosystem existed here. A hill laden with late-blooming flowers lay just beyond it.
“Oh! What a beautiful spot! We should have a picnic here sometime,” Theo decreed.
Eleanor nodded her agreement.
They continued on through to the garden where overgrown hedges resided beside dead flower beds. A long dormant water fountain sat tall and regal in the middle of a cement path that led down to an orchard grove. Upon the highest spire of this stone edifice perched a large black raven. The ominous sound of its cawing drifted into Eleanor’s ears, reminding her of the dread she felt upon her arrival at Hill House. Dry leaves of every shape and color floated upon the breeze, landing with a soft scraping sound, crunching under their feet. Eleanor had always hated fall because it was a precursor to long winters shut indoors.
“This place must have been gorgeous back in its hay-day,” declared Theo. Eleanor nodded. “Still don’t talk much, huh?”
Eleanor shrugged, then forced out, “I guess I’m just out of practice.”
“But surely you and your mother talked?”
Eleanor looked away. “We weren’t close, my mother and me. We only talked out of necessity. I was closer to my father.”
It was Theo’s turn to nod. “Are you glad to be here at Hill House?”
“Yes,” Eleanor said earnestly.
This seemed to surprise Theo. “Are you sure? You seem a bit tense.”
“I admit that I’m afraid of the library, but other than that, I’m glad to have a place to be that isn’t my house. But that’s only part of it.” Warming up to the conversation, words poured out of Eleanor in a deluge. “I love the romanticism of being here at Hill House, and I’m already heartsick at the thought of leaving. I have company here. Good food that I didn’t have to prepare. New and fascinating books to read, if I can get past the odd feeling I get from the library, that is,” she said sheepishly. “Anything I could ever wish for.”
