Secret Reflection

8


Day Seven

The door swung open. Nancy entered carrying a tray with tea and small sandwiches, and a parcel, which, from its odd shape, Kelly assumed to be the returned hand mirror.

‘Thought you might be awake,’ Nancy whispered as she placed the tray upon the writing desk. ‘Any better?’

Kelly sat up and smiled her appreciation. ‘Much.’

‘Good. I’ve brought you some food. Did you want me to call Richard and tell him you can’t make dinner?’

Kelly groaned to herself, then shook her head. ‘No. I’ve already reneged once, I don’t really think it’d be polite to do it again. Besides, I’d like to ask him a few questions about our phantom.’

Nancy glanced up at the mirror. ‘Is he there now?’

Kelly shook her head, feeling a strange sense of disappointment. ‘Haven’t seen him today.’

‘I wish I could see him, too.’

‘So do I – it would make things a heck of a lot easier for me. I still don’t know what to think.’ Even as she said those words, she knew that she had started to waver. Every time he appeared a spurt of adrenalin rushed through her and if she didn’t know better she would swear she was back in school experiencing the beginnings of her first crush.

Nancy grinned. ‘Well it is early stages. You can take as much time as you like to be certain – just so long as it is before the newspaper deadline. The story needs to go into the paper in time for the grand opening.’

‘And when is that?’

‘The deadline is next Saturday.’

‘Saturday?’ Kelly scowled. ‘Thanks for telling me this now. You mean I have a week to prove he is a hoax?’

‘No. You have a week to realise he is a genuine ghost,’ she said with a cheeky look as she placed the tray on Kelly’s lap. ‘Don’t worry. I’m sure you’ll know by then. Now eat up and take a leisurely bath before Richard arrives.’

As soon as Nancy had gone John materialised.

‘You are going to visit that man’s home?’ he said in a tone of disapproval.

Setting the food tray aside she threw back the covers. She knew she was still in her underwear but he wasn’t seeing any more than if she paraded in front of him in a bikini. Well – not much more … the lacy bra was a little more translucent than her bikini top, but only just. She glanced up to gauge his reaction and had to suppress a devilish chuckle when his neck started to go very red.

‘Yes, I am. Richard is cooking me dinner,’ she strolled nonchalantly toward the dressing closet. At the door she turned and threw him a coy smile. ‘I’m going to bathe … I’ll be back in a short while.’

Once inside the closet she stopped and took a deep breath. She didn’t know why she wanted to toy with him but that slightly wicked side of her that Frank had unleashed in the heady, early days of their marriage appeared to have resurfaced. Thinking about it she knew that if he really was who said he was, taunting him like that was cruel to the extreme. But she didn’t want to believe he was real and to keep her sanity she needed to assume that no matter how attractive or how endearing he seemed, he was, in fact, a fraud. That – or a murderer. Either way he wasn’t the kind of man she could or should become involved with … even if he had the most seductive eyes she’d ever come across and was, as Nancy had said, sexy as hell.

‘Madam!’ he exclaimed half an hour later when she stepped into the room in a daring black teddy and lacy-topped stockings.

‘What?’ she asked with an air of innocence as she gathered her watch from the table. Before he could reply she turned around to march straight back into the dressing room. She grinned as she donned a demure wrap-around skirt and matching blouse with three-quarter sleeves. Both were black and silky, and outlined her curves. In this outfit she felt very feminine, and the underwear, though safely covered, made her feel just that little bit daring.

When she returned and saw the look of discomfort on his face, guilt filled her chest. Her little game had obviously upset him.

‘How do I look?’ she asked, twirling about.

He blinked as if surprised by her question. ‘I confess I cannot comment on women’s fashions, Kelly. Your garments are vastly different from those that adorned the ladies of my day.’

‘Surely you’ve seen other women since then.’

‘Certainly. But there have been long periods when I was the sole occupant of this house.’

‘How long?’

He seemed to think hard before answering. ‘I believe the longest period was shortly after the war that some of the men called the Great War. For some three years and seven months, the only other person to enter this house was a gamekeeper. The man would stop in the foyer and check the locks were secure once every week, and then leave.’

‘Three and a half years? Alone?’ She couldn’t begin to imagine what it would be like to be imprisoned in this vast place, all alone, for that length of time. ‘I don’t know what to say,’ she shook her head and stepped into her evening shoes. ‘Didn’t you go crazy?’

‘It is true there were moments when I did think it. But, in all honesty, I have thought myself insane much of the past 140 years. You see, I did not believe such sorcery existed that could place me here. There have been many times when I most fervently wished I would simply awaken to find the whole affair merely a nightmare. But alas, that has not eventuated. So I must believe.

‘Yet, the long days and nights have left me weary. I would end it if I could.’

Kelly’s eyes widened as she took in the meaning of his words. ‘Are you saying you would commit suicide?’

He stared at her; pain and something wistful seemed to pass over him.

‘In truth, I do not know if I could have done such a deed.’ He averted his eyes as his voice dropped to a murmur. ‘As you once said, Madam, I am a coward.’

Her heart faltered. She’d had no idea that she’d hurt him so much, but his expression said otherwise. She went to the mirror, splaying her hand upon the glass in an impotent gesture of comfort. ‘I didn’t mean it,’ she whispered. ‘If you have lived and coped for all this time, you’d have to be the bravest man I’ve met.’

He looked at her, hope flaring tentatively in his eyes. ‘If only that were so.’ He reached out his hand as if to join hers on the glass, and for the shortest instant, a spark, like static electricity, arced through her fingertips. Shocked, she snatched her hand from the glass and stepped back.

John’s hand dropped as if her withdrawal was but another sign of his utter hopelessness. The same sense of vulnerability she’d seen whenever he spoke of Elizabeth’s death came over him like a shroud.

Seeing his pain she wanted to explain, to reassure him, but as she thought about it she knew there was no way she ever could. He was stuck in a world she could not enter, could not begin to understand. All she could do was find the journal and release him.

But would release mean his death? It was something she hadn’t dared let herself think about.

‘Can I ask a question?’

He nodded. ‘Of course.’

‘If I do manage to find the journal and release you, will you die?’

Both hope and fear played across his face and for a long beat he seemed suspended. Then he sighed and his lips lifted in a gentle half-smile. ‘While I cannot say for a certainty, I assume that since I have survived long past my allotted lifetime, that death will be the most likely result.’

‘Do you really want to die?’ She stepped closer to the mirror again, compelled by the horror that she might be helping him toward his own annihilation.

Another sigh escaped his lips. He closed his eyes as if he could block out the reality of the question by refusing to see. Yet when he opened them again, she saw a bitter resolve written there.

‘Although, at present, I have the means to communicate … over the past 140 years there have been little more than 100 days, perhaps fewer, when I could be seen as well as heard. Few believed me. Most ran in fear of the dreaded Stanthorpe ghost. The rest of the time my words are but a murmur in the dark. I cannot touch, cannot sleep, cannot even rest. Would death not be preferable to that?’

He didn’t wait for her answer and she didn’t try to call him back. Her stomach twisted with an ache that reminded her of the hollow pain of Frank’s betrayal. Yet this was different, because she wasn’t feeling it for herself – she felt it for him. If all John said was true, then he’d already endured hell for a very long time.

As she went to gather her purse, she realised that in a matter of a week, she had gone from total disbelief to allowing the possibility that he did, indeed, speak the truth. She didn’t quite understand how or why she’d changed, but she so wanted to believe him, believe in him. All kinds of strange emotions were stirring within her. Pity was high on the list, of course, but also other feelings, nameless feelings she thought had died along with her marriage.

She needed to think, long and hard, but she knew one thing: if he spoke the truth and it was within her power to help him, she would. She had planned to read his journal tonight, but waiting another day wouldn’t hurt, especially if it meant they might find Edward’s journal instead.

As she passed by the mirror she stopped and said, ‘John, I’ll try to get back as early as I can. After I do, we’ll go searching in the passages.’

‘Thank you,’ she said as Richard poured her a glass of juice.

‘Are you sure you won’t have any champagne? It is excellent and complements the coq au vin very well.’

She shook her head as he placed the glass on the dining table before her. ‘No, yesterday’s gave me a terrible migraine so I think I’ll remain alcohol free for a while.’

He sat opposite and slid a platter of pâté closer to her. ‘I do apologise if that was my fault. You should have said something.’

‘It wasn’t,’ she reassured. ‘Sometimes champagne does it and other times it has no effect at all. Perhaps some have chemicals or preservatives that I’m allergic to,’ she lifted her shoulders in a slight shrug. ‘I’ve never been able to work it out.’

‘Well, I’m glad you were able to make dinner.’ The oven timer dinged and he stood. ‘This is my specialty … I hope you like it,’ he said as he donned his oven mitts. He didn’t quite look at home in the kitchen; something told her this was a show for her benefit.

She watched him fuss about with serving dishes and a platter of steamed rice.

‘Hmm, smells wonderful,’ she said as he ladled chicken-filled sauce over the rice.

Oddly, a light caught in his eyes like a kid who’d just been awarded an ‘A’ from his favourite teacher.

‘So, how is the ghost-hunting coming along?’ he asked as she took her first mouthful. ‘I still say that growl I heard was him,’ he added, darting her a quick look.

‘I’m not sure what it was though I have to admit there are some very strange sounds to be heard in that house.’ She placed her fork on the edge of her plate. ‘I did wonder whether you might have remembered anything more about the journal? Barnsley says that the ghost has asked about it in the past. If I could find that … it might be a big help. Nancy tells me they’d like my article printed in time for the grand opening. That doesn’t leave much leeway.’

Richard shook his head in the negative then his face lit up as if a thought struck him. ‘There are a few crates of papers and books here in the coach house – perhaps it’s amongst those. We could take a look together, maybe on Monday afternoon?’

‘I’m not sure of my movements for Monday, I had intended to head up to London and collect some documents I ordered at the National Archives.’

‘Well, that might actually figure in with my plans.’ He took a piece of chicken between his teeth and chewed thoughtfully. ‘I need to be in London in the next week or so. What do you say we head off very early and then when we’re each finished with our business, we can come back here and take a look at those crates?’

Kelly frowned in thought. Part of the reason she had intended to go to London was to canvass the rest of the talent agencies – which, if her last visit was any indication, would probably take most of the day. But then again, hadn’t she decided only an hour ago that she was going to try to help John find release rather than continue to try to prove his presence a hoax?

She worried her lower lip wondering whether she had allowed her heart to rule her head. Perhaps she’d caved in too soon. After all she went through with Frank she’d lost faith in her gut instincts. Right now her gut was telling her John was precisely who he said he was. She’d been wrong about Frank. Was she wrong about this too?

‘Can I let you know in the morning?’ she said.

By the time they’d finished dinner Kelly had decided that Richard was just too charming for his own good. He’d made her laugh with his stories about his school days, and though John had warned her against him, she found she genuinely liked being in his company.

‘Shall we eat our pudding by the fire?’ he asked as he cleared the last of the dinner things.

She patted her belly. ‘I don’t think I could fit dessert in.’

‘Of course you can – it’s trifle – everybody can fit in a little trifle.’

She drew her brows together. ‘Sounds very fattening.’

‘Exactly what the doctor ordered. But we can wait a little while. I’ll just put on the coffee, you do want coffee?’ he asked turning back to her.

‘Definitely.’

As Richard organised the coffee, Kelly wandered about his living room looking at the few knick-knacks he had scattered about. The room was dominated by the giant television that sat opposite a four-seater couch in red leather. On a shelf above the television stood a DVD library that comprised mainly action movies. There were a few car racing disks as well as a history of Ascot. She smiled to herself. Men were the same around the world: sports and gambling.

Just as she took a seat on the couch, she heard a rapid pounding on the door. ‘Do you want me to answer it?’ she called.

‘No,’ he said as he came back into the room with a perplexed expression. ‘I don’t know who that could be.’

Curiously, as soon as he opened the door, he stepped outside and shut it hard behind him. Kelly heard voices … a man speaking quickly and urgently … and then Richard’s deeper tones. She didn’t want to snoop but the other man’s voice seemed to get more and more agitated and she found herself edging closer to the closed door in an attempt to hear.

Suddenly the other man shouted and she heard a thump, followed by the sound of a scuffle.

With her heart in her mouth Kelly grabbed the knob and yanked the door open. The other man had run off and, at her feet, Richard lay rubbing his cheek. She crouched beside him. ‘Richard? Are you all right?’

From out of the darkness a harsh voice yelled, ‘Remember what I said!’ Then an engine roared to life.

Glaring at the tail lights of the car disappearing down the lane, Richard’s eyes held a potent anger she’d never seen before. A small cut on the corner of his lip had begun to bleed.

‘Richard?’ she said again, her hand trembling as she reached a hand toward him.

After a second he shook his head again and looked at her. ‘Nothing – it’s nothing.’

‘It’s not nothing – you’re bleeding!’

He wiped the corner of his mouth and looked down at the blood on his fingers with a scowl. ‘It’s nothing.’

He let her help him up and then he dusted himself off. Once back inside he excused himself. ‘I’ll just go to the bathroom and clean up. I’ll be back in a moment.’

Kelly could do nothing but wait, so she went to the kitchen and finished making their coffee.

‘Sugar?’ she asked when he re-entered the room. He held a cotton pad to the side of his mouth, highlighting the shadow of a bruise already beginning to form below his cheek.

‘No – I’ll have straight black. I think I need it.’ He took the coffee she handed him and headed back into the living room. After checking that the bleeding had stopped, he tossed the cotton onto a side table, then sat and patted the seat beside him. ‘C’mon, sit. I’m sorry about that.’

‘Who was that man and why did he hit you?’

He averted his gaze and shook his head. ‘He’s a local. I think he was drunk. I don’t really know what he wanted.’

‘Shouldn’t you call the police?’

‘No. There’s no real harm done.’ He rubbed his cheek again before taking a hesitant sip of his coffee. ‘Thanks, Kelly.’

‘What did I do?’

He took her hand and smoothed his fingers over hers, then looked deeply into her eyes. ‘You were here … that makes me feel better.’

She glanced away, wishing she could withdraw her hand but he held it tight. His fingers were soft and warm and yet there was something disquieting …

‘I suppose I probably should go,’ she said, slipping her hand from his. ‘You really ought to get some rest.’

‘Nonsense,’ he edged closer, sliding his arm along the back of the couch until it rested behind her head. He loomed over her, a smile playing at his lips. ‘It’s just a small bruise … besides, we haven’t had our pudding.’ The last he said in a whisper, as his mouth moved towards hers.

God! I’m not ready for this!

She wriggled backward as far as the arm of the couch would allow, suddenly certain that there was no way she wanted him to kiss her. ‘I’m not really hungry – dinner was wonderful but very filling. I really think I should go.’

Richard drew his brows together. ‘Nonsense. It’s still early …’ Again he moved closer as if he meant to kiss her. ‘I’ve been hoping to get you alone since that very first evening we met. I’m sure you realise that I find you very attractive.’ He reached up a hand to gently cup her cheek and though she held herself rigid, he slowly brought his mouth against hers.

His lips were soft and fleshy. Too warm. Too practised. Too …

She analysed the kiss as if she were above herself, watching them, not really feeling the contact. Inside she just felt cold. She didn’t respond in any way and as his tongue tried to force entrance to her mouth, she twisted away.

‘I’m sorry,’ she whispered as she stood and straightened her dress, purposely avoiding his penetrating blue gaze. How she wished she hadn’t worn these clothes! Everything about them said she was ready and willing. And she was far from it. When he’d kissed her she had felt nothing at all.

She sensed him behind her. He laid a hand on her shoulder and whispered in her ear. ‘I know I’m moving fast, but if you give me a chance …’ He tried to draw her back against him. She could feel his warm breath against her neck but the goosebumps that rose on her skin were from dread, not arousal.

Wrapping her arms around herself like a shield … she stepped away from his embrace. ‘I’m sorry. I can’t.’ She looked up and for just an instant she thought she saw Frank staring back at her. Richard’s eyes held that same darkness, the same greed-filled lust that she had learned to recognise in Frank’s determined gaze in those last weeks of her marriage.

Shaking her head, she knew she needed to get some distance and perspective. ‘I think you’d better take me home.’

He gave a weary sigh before nodding. ‘If that is what you want.’

In silence he fetched his keys and led her out to the Jeep. It had started to drizzle and a shiver rippled up her spine as she waited for him to unlock the passenger door. Neither spoke for the short, half-mile trip.

When they were nearly back at Stanthorpe he said, ‘My offer to take you to London is still open. I’ll call early on Monday morning to see if you want to come along.’

At the back door he pulled up and switched off the engine. It had started to rain harder and the patter of the drops sounded very loud in the silence of the cabin.

‘I hope you won’t be put off by what happened tonight,’ he ran a hand across his bruised jaw. ‘I don’t normally get bashed on my own doorstep … I like you, Kelly – I like you a lot … and I really hope you’ll give us the chance to get to know each other. If I seem forward it is only that it’s been a long time since a woman has kindled my feelings like you do. Please don’t hold that against me.’

She faced him, not quite knowing what to say. While he might be attractive to most women, there was nothing about him that stirred her emotions and no matter what Nancy said, she couldn’t bring herself to have a casual affair simply to make her ego feel better. It wouldn’t make anything better. It would only make her feel cheap and used … exactly how Frank ultimately made her feel. She stared at Richard for a long minute before she could answer him. Was she being irrational? Had Frank’s actions truly scarred her for life?

In the end she thinned her lips, saying, ‘I’ll think about what you’ve said. But I can’t promise anything.’

Before he could say another word she climbed from the Jeep and ran the few yards to the back door. She tripped slightly as she reached it, her heel catching on a bicycle pump that someone had obviously abandoned by the door. She picked it up and set it aside.

As soon as she shut the door behind her, she leaned against the wood and let out a breath, waiting to hear the Jeep’s engine start again. Her heart hammered in her chest until it did. She didn’t know why but it crossed her mind that she had just escaped something dangerous.

Once the roar of the engine faded, she felt calmer and took the servants’ stair up to the second floor. As she passed the linen closet, she grabbed a towel, dabbed away the raindrops that clung to her face and wiped at her dampened hair.

As she opened the door to her room she sensed him waiting. John greeted her with a crooked smile that she felt all the way down to her toes. For just a second, she prayed he was indeed the fraud she first suspected because that might give her the chance to meet him face-to-face. The chance to touch him. And know him. In other circumstances a brief affair with the man before her would have been a real possibility. She didn’t understand why she should feel attracted to him when she’d just rejected another gorgeous man who’d offered himself in no uncertain terms. Perhaps, deep down, she was protecting herself. Fantasising about a man she could not touch was safe. There was no way she could become involved … no way she could be hurt again.

‘Did you enjoy your evening?’ he enquired.

She drew her brows together. ‘Actually, no, I didn’t.’

He grinned.

‘You don’t have to look so happy about it.’

‘Ah, but Kelly, I cannot hide my feelings on the matter of Ditchley, whether the man in question is my cousin or the person who currently wears that name. I do not trust him, and I believe he will abuse your friendship should the need arise.’

‘Hmm,’ was all she said as she went to the writing desk and picked up the parcel containing the mirror. After unwrapping it, she brandished it before him.

‘See, I told you it’d be back soon.’

‘Please accept my gratitude,’ he sketched a slight bow. ‘It is somewhat distressing to know that my means for communication can so easily diminish. Would it be too much to ask that you request the mirror in the pantry be restored to its place in the small salon? At present it faces a wall and is therefore quite useless.’

‘I guess,’ she replied as she placed the mirror on the bed. ‘I’ve told Tom and Nancy a little bit about you so I’m sure they’d want to help in any way they can.’

He looked at her with surprise but she didn’t give him a chance to speak.

‘Listen, I meant what I said about searching. Just give me few minutes to change my clothes then we can go and do a bit of snooping. Maybe we can find the journal tonight.’

Again he grinned and she felt unaccountably happy to see his eyes sparkling with such joy. While she knew she might be setting herself up for a major hurt, right now she needed to believe in him.

Dressed in a warm sweater, jeans and a pair of dusty old Nikes, she emerged from the closet ready for action. She’d tied her hair in a ponytail and washed off the layer of make-up she’d worn for Richard’s benefit.

‘Okay,’ she said as she laid the blueprints of the house on the floor before him, ‘where do you think we should start?’

With a serious expression, he stared at the plans for several minutes. ‘I am aware that you would rather not enter the secret passages at night but I do think it is the most likely place to find the journal.

‘Within the passages are small closets and secret places where objects of value might be hidden. As far as I am aware, no one has explored all the passages for over a century.’

She grimaced. Spiders and bugs and cobwebs – just what she needed. But then again, it wouldn’t matter when she went in there, they’d still be waiting for her. ‘I suppose, if it is dark anyway, it really doesn’t make any difference if it is daytime or not.’ She glanced up. ‘Are you sure it’ll be safe?’

‘That, I cannot guarantee. I have not entered the passages since I was a boy when my father brought me to Stanthorpe to visit with my great uncle, Francis, who was in residence at that time. None of those who have attempted to help me through the years have dared to go in … and in truth, I am not certain they have not been blocked.

‘So the decision is yours, Kelly. I can guide you once inside, but beyond that, you know as much as I.’

With a shrug and a sigh, she said, ‘What the hell – nothing ventured and all that.’

When she glanced up and saw his bewildered expression, she laughed. ‘That was a “yes”.’

‘I do not deserve such generosity. Words cannot express the depth of my gratitude, Kelly.’ This time his smile seemed to make the air about him glow and the pit of her belly did a strange flip then began to heat. How was it that this man could stir feelings from a distance that Richard could not stir with a kiss? She studied his face and felt a sudden lurch inside.

Oh boy, am I in trouble. I’m beginning to fall in love with him. No! Impossible, she told herself sternly.

‘Yes, well … we’d better get this show on the road.’ she grabbed the mirror and gestured to him, ‘In you go.’

When his face appeared in the hand mirror she gave a startled gasp, even though she’d expected it. It was just too odd for comfort. She took the small flashlight she’d found yesterday and stuck it in her back pocket.

First stop was the bureau for candles and matches. ‘I’m just getting some candles,’ she told him as she put the mirror down on top of the bureau. Even though she had the flashlight, she’d seen enough movies to know that batteries always ran out at the most inopportune moment. And while she knew life didn’t always imitate art, her luck being what it was, it was almost a given that she’d fall and break her neck because the flashlight suddenly failed.

Once armed with her reserve of candles, she took out the flashlight and tested it. Satisfied it worked as it should, she took up the mirror and checked John was still there before setting off along the hall to the servants’ staircase.

It was only just after nine but the house sounded strangely quiet. Since learning of Nancy’s pregnancy, Tom had taken to ushering her into bed very early, despite all her arguments that she felt fit and well.

Thinking of the two of them made Kelly go all warm and soft inside.

‘Okay, so where is this secret door?’ she asked as she turned the mirror to face the staircase.

‘If you feel along the outer edge of the lintel, about one third of the way along,’ he said, and she started running her fingertips over the wood, ‘a little further … yes … you should feel a small lump in the wood. If you press,’ she did and a narrow door sprang open, ‘there it is.’

The door was about four feet high and only just wide enough for her to slide in. She held up the flashlight and cast its beam over the opening and then deeper inside. Her heart began to thud a little too quickly. She wanted to turn around and seek the safety of her room. But at the same time she also wanted to know the truth.

‘Your lighting device is rather inadequate, Kelly. Perhaps a candle would shed better light for our purpose.’

‘You could be right,’ she murmured, realising the flashlight’s beam was too narrow and focused to show her much of anything. After flicking it off, she placed it on the floor by the door and took out a candle. When it caught alight she had to agree with him. Though the light was softer and more muted, it showed all the features of the passage well enough for her to find her way without endangering herself.

‘Ok-kay,’ she said, unable to disguise the nervous catch in her voice. ‘I guess we should go in.’ She stepped gingerly over the high skirting board and ducked her head into the dark opening.

Just inside the small space, she found a flight of stairs that ran downward parallel to the one outside. It was almost as if the staircase had been cut in half, one part on the outside, while the other remained hidden behind the wall.

‘I guess we go down?’ she suggested though she couldn’t keep the trepidation from her voice. She angled the mirror in the direction of the stairs.

‘Yes, down a few stairs then you will find another opening to the left. That is a passage that runs the length of the building and gives access to the downstairs rooms on the western side of the house.’

She tested the first step, and when she found it could hold her weight she released her breath and began the slow trek down. The tunnel was extremely narrow, and she wondered how a grown man could move through without scraping himself or hitting his head. There was certainly little room to manoeuvre. When they came to the left-hand opening, she held the candle higher to reassure herself they were going the right way. As she looked about, an eerie feeling swept over her and she again wished she was back in the safety of her room instead of skulking around in the dark. What if she got lost? Nobody would find her in here!

The passages were rough and unfinished, all crumbling mortar and unpolished wood. A few cobwebs hung about the top of the walls but far less than she expected. She wasn’t sure about spiders or other creepy-crawlies, and didn’t look too closely – somehow it felt safer not to.

‘Left?’ she queried and held the mirror up.

‘Yes, this corridor allows us to access the secret places behind the library bookcases, and also the small salon beyond.’

So, she said inwardly, this is the other side of where I found John’s journal yesterday. She still hadn’t read it, but right now she felt more compelled to find Edward’s journal than anything else.

On shaky legs she crept a few paces along the corridor until she came to a wall that extended from waist height up to the ceiling. She lifted the candle higher.

‘What is this?’

‘Before us is the window casing. You must crawl underneath. The passage continues on the other side.’

‘Great.’ Her frown was lost in the darkness.

Ducking down, she inched along on her haunches, thankful the blockage wasn’t more than a couple of yards wide. A good thing I’m not claustrophobic.

Once on the other side, the passage seemed to open up for quite a way. Breathing hard she stood upright and crept forward slowly and gingerly, wary of further obstacles. Another three yards along she found what appeared to be a column constructed from unmortared old bricks.

‘What’s this?’ she asked in a loud whisper as she held the candle and mirror close.

‘I believe it is one of the places where valuables can be hidden. I would suggest you remove some bricks and look inside,’ John said as she examined it.

Kneeling down, she set the candle on the floor then gently placed the mirror beside it. It took several minutes, and a broken fingernail, but with care she wriggled first one brick loose, then another until she’d made a small opening about eighteen inches off the ground. With a bubble of anticipation she raised the candle to it and peered inside.

Guessing it was the same opening she had found from the other side yesterday she gave a disappointed sigh and said, ‘Sorry – it’s empty.’

‘Try searching higher,’ John said from his spot on the floor, ‘you will likely find several compartments.’

She carefully replaced the bricks she’d taken out and moved a foot higher, but as she did she heard a strange thud from the end of the corridor. Her breath caught and as she reached for the candle, the sudden movement extinguished the flame leaving her in total darkness.

‘What has happened, Kelly? Why has it gone dark?’

Crap, she thought when she realised she’d left the flashlight by the door on the servant’s stair.

‘Give me a second to light another candle. I think I heard something down the corridor.’

Another thud. This time from behind her. Please don’t let it be rats! She spun around and an overwhelming scent of horse manure assaulted her nostrils.

‘Kelly?’

Her heart rate soared as she fumbled in her back pocket for the reserve candle and matches. Another thud; she spun again … back the other way. The sound was getting closer! It seemed to take forever to get a match from the box and she almost dropped it in her desperation. As she scraped the match against the side of the box a sudden gust of wind rushed past her ear. She flinched backward against the wall.

‘Who’s there?’ she demanded as she scraped the match again. No one answered.

‘What is it, Kelly?’ John asked. ‘What is happening?’

Her fingers shook uncontrollably as she scraped the match again. The end ignited, and as she lifted it to the candlewick she felt a second gust of air. Something or someone was right beside her. Turning slowly, she raised the candle in time to see a large black object coming straight at her head! A hysterical scream erupted from her throat.

As the thing hit her, she heard John’s anguished shout. Then everything began to buzz.

‘Did you hear something?’ Nancy asked Tom. She reclined on the bed, on a mound of pillows, feeling terribly decadent as she watched her husband gently kneading her right foot with peppermint oil.

He lifted his head. ‘This house is old, Nance, it makes noises.’

She heard it again. A loud thud and a scuffling sound. ‘That! What is it?’

‘Probably vermin,’ Tom said, unconcerned. ‘The pest control people will be here next Wednesday.’

When they heard a muffled scream they both jumped. ‘That, I did hear.’ He threw the towel onto the bed and went to the door. ‘Stay here. I’ll go check it out.’

Under normal circumstances Nancy would have been hot on his tail, but she now had a baby to think about so she did as she was told and dived under the covers to hide.

Tom stopped by Kelly’s room but he didn’t expect to find her there. He was certain Richard would be doing his best to wine, dine, and probably seduce her. No. It wasn’t Kelly who’d screamed. It was probably that damned ghost, he said to himself as he moved warily down the hall turning on lights as he went. When he reached the servants’ stair, his foot nudged something. He looked down.

‘What the …?’ It was only after he picked the flashlight up that he noticed that the secret door stood slightly ajar. He knew about the passages and planned to explore them, but what with all the renovations and gardening that needed to be done, he hadn’t yet had the chance. Flicking on the flashlight, he peered inside then edged into the passage. It was a tight squeeze and for the first time in his life he wished he’d been born shorter and thinner. He scraped his head against the ceiling as he slid along, almost sideways, down the few stairs. At the left-hand opening he stopped and listened. He heard footsteps, moving away fast. ‘Definitely not mice,’ he murmured, wishing he’d grabbed some kind of weapon. The flashlight was only six inches long and all but useless.

He turned left and then crawled under a partial blockage, no easy feat for a man his size. On the other side, as the passage opened up before him, he directed the flashlight’s beam in a wide arc. Half way down the hall he could see Kelly’s crumpled form.

‘Shit!’

He scrambled to her.

‘Kel? Can you hear me?’ He felt her throat and was relieved to find her pulse beating strong and steady against his fingertips. But she was unconscious.

Glancing around he realised there was no way he could carry her out; besides, he really didn’t want to move her in case she had head or spinal injuries. Until he knew what had happened, better to leave her here.

‘Kel, honey?’ He touched her face but when she still didn’t respond he reached into his pocket for his mobile phone and dialled for an ambulance. As soon as he shut off the mobile, he examined the wall next to where she lay. Either side of the brick column was a wall made of wood. If his calculations were correct, he stood behind the library bookcases.

Bracing himself against the outer wall, he began to push the wooden structure before him. He heaved and pushed, breaking into a sweat, and just when he was about to give up, the wall shifted slightly. Encouraged, he began pushing in earnest, and inch by inch the wall moved till he had enough space to edge his way through to the library. The brick column sagged against the wood, threatening to topple.

As he slid through he noticed the rug on the other side had buckled and blocked the bookcase from being opened out further. Reaching down he grasped the rug and yanked it up before again putting his shoulder to the bookcase. Seconds later, the stack of bricks tumbled to the ground but he’d created enough of an opening that he could squeeze through.

‘God! What’s happened?’ Nancy stood at the door, her face pale with fright.

‘I don’t know. Kelly is in the passage. She’s unconscious.’ As his wife started forward he held up his hand. ‘Don’t come in … the bookcase could easily fall and there are broken bricks. Just let me go see how she is.’

Nancy nodded.

Tom disappeared behind the bookcase. There was now enough light to make out the scene.

‘Dear God!’

‘What is it?’ yelled Nancy, her voice frantic. ‘Tom? What’s happening back there?’

Tom emerged from behind the bookcase, his face drained of all colour.

‘It’s Deanna. She’s on the floor beside Kelly. I think she’s dead.’

Nancy tried to push past her husband to see, but Tom stopped her. ‘No – don’t. An ambulance is on its way but I reckon we should call the police.’ He handed her his mobile phone. ‘Can you call them while I check Kelly?’

Ashen-faced, she nodded slowly and flipped open the phone.

‘I’m Detective Inspector Mathieson, Thames Valley CID,’ the charcoal-suited man said, flashing a badge before Kelly’s eyes. ‘Can you tell me how you came to be in the passage?’

Kelly lay on a stretcher in what she assumed was a hospital emergency room. She’d come to but a moment ago to find herself surrounded by medics. Neither Tom nor Nancy were anywhere to be seen.

Kelly blinked. The inspector repeated his question.

A doctor pushed forward between her and the inspector. ‘I’m sorry, Matt, she’s got a concussion. You’d best keep your questions for later.’

‘C’mon, Helen, I’ve got a murder to solve.’

Murder!

Though she ached like she’d been run over by a truck, Kelly tried to sit upright. The doctor placed a hand on her shoulder and prevented her.

‘You shouldn’t move, you have a concussion.’

‘Is Nancy okay? Tom?’ she begged.

The doctor’s pleasant face loomed into her field of vision. ‘Your friends are fine,’ she patted Kelly’s arm, ‘they’re waiting outside. I’ll go tell them you’re awake.’ She turned to the inspector. ‘Don’t badger my patient, Matt.’

Kelly turned her head; something hammered in there, just behind her eyes. All she wanted to do was go to sleep.

‘You said murder?’ she mumbled.

‘Yes, looks that way. One Deanna Montgomery. Do you know her?’

Kelly went hot all over and for a second she felt light-headed and giddy. She had to breathe deeply before the room stopped spinning around her.

‘D–Deanna?’ She closed her eyes. Deanna was just a teenage kid – who’d want to kill her? ‘We’ve met a couple of times. She’s a waitress at the bakery … and I think she has just started work as a housemaid at Stanthorpe House.’

He nodded. ‘Her body was found a few feet away from you in the passage behind the library. Can you tell me how that came to be?’

After taking in the full import of what the inspector just said she had to swallow back the lump that formed in her throat before she could speak. ‘I have no idea. I heard a noise and when I turned, something hit me. That is all I knew until I woke up here a few moments ago.’

‘Why were you in that passage?’

Again the room began to swim … her vision blurring at the periphery.

The inspector moved closer and pulled out a PDA.

‘Ms Reid?’ His voice became stern and clipped. ‘Can you answer my question?’

Her heart started to pound in earnest, her head too, and this man’s questions certainly weren’t helping any.

‘I was searching for something.’

‘What were you searching for?’ he asked, making a note onto his PDA.

‘A journal. It belonged to one of the former Lords Stanthorpe.’

‘Why were you searching for it? Is the journal valuable?’

‘I don’t know.’ Even in her befuddled state she knew she’d sound like a nutcase if she told him exactly why she had been skulking around in the passage. ‘I’m a journalist … I was searching for information about Stanthorpe House. Tom and Nancy asked me over to England to write a story for the hotel’s opening.’

‘What makes this journal so important that you went wandering about—’

‘Time’s up, Matt,’ the doctor cut him off as she came back into the room.

‘But I just have a couple more questions, Helen.’

The doctor shook her blonde head at him, her glasses strobing under the bright lights. ‘Not now. She needs rest. You can talk to her later.’

‘But—’

‘Later.’ Raising an eyebrow, the doctor almost dared him to argue. ‘We’ll take her up to a ward. After she’s had more tests, and some rest, I might let you talk to her again.’ To Kelly she said, ‘The orderly is going to take you upstairs to the ward. A nurse will come soon to draw blood and put in an IV. After that, your friends the Wentworths can visit with you for a few minutes but then you’ll need to rest.’ She smiled reassuringly and motioned to a big dark-skinned man who took hold of the bottom of her bed and started pulling it towards the door.

‘How’re you doing, kiddo?’ Tom asked once they’d exchanged a hug. Nancy sat alongside her, clutching her hand tight.

‘Apart from another monster headache, I think I’ll be okay. The doctor said it was just a bad concussion and a few grazes. No bones broken.’

Tom grinned. ‘I always said you were a hard-headed woman.’

She groaned and lifted a hand to her forehead. ‘Don’t make me laugh, Tom. It hurts too much.’

Nancy gave him a gentle whack on the arm.

‘Thanks, Nance,’ Kelly said. ‘I’ll pay him back when I’m feeling a bit better.’

‘So, Kel, what were you doing in there?’

She let out a weary sigh. ‘I was searching for a journal. John tells me the secret to his imprisonment should be in his cousin’s journal … Edward Ditchley’s.’

‘Edward?’ both Tom and Nancy said in unison.

‘Richard’s ancestor … who inherited after John disappeared. Look – it’s a very long story and I’m sure the nurse will come and chase you out any minute. The doctor says I’ll be stuck here for a day or two at least … can I get you to do something for me?’

Nancy squeezed her hand. ‘Of course.’

‘Two things, actually. First, in the side of my attaché case is a small red book, can you get it for me? – I’d like to read it while I’m here.’

‘Sure, I’ll bring it back first thing in the morning. And the other thing?’

‘Can you tell John what’s happened? – he’s probably beside himself with worry.’

Nancy’s eyes widened in shock. ‘But … I didn’t think you believed him. You said only yesterday that you still thought he was a hoax!’

‘Another long story – I’m still not certain, but I’m willing to keep an open mind.’ And, of course, there’s the fact that I think I’m falling in love with him. She didn’t say those words aloud, it would have made them all the more real.

‘But how will we know where to find him? Nobody but you can see him.’

‘Maybe not, but if you go to my room and stand in front of the mirror … I’m fairly certain he’ll hear. Just tell him I’m in the hospital and I’ll be back as soon as I can.’

‘Okay.’ She cast her husband a dubious glance before smiling brightly at Kelly. ‘I know you had nothing to do with Deanna’s death, but do you have any idea what she was doing there?’

Kelly shook her head slowly from side to side, wincing with each movement. ‘Like I told the inspector, I heard a noise then something hit me. That was it.’

‘You know the police suspect you of Deanna’s murder, although the officer I spoke to couldn’t say any more,’ Tom said solemnly.

Even though she knew the truth her breath caught anyway.

‘I think I might know why they’d suspect me. Deanna may have been jealous that I’d had dinner with Richard. I got the impression she fancied herself in love with him. On Wednesday night, after her interview with you, I caught her in my room. She knocked me over when she ran out, telling me to go back to America. I still don’t know why she was there although I did wonder whether she might be helping Richard orchestrate the projections.’

Tom pursed his lips. ‘Have you told the inspector any of this?’

‘Not yet. I’d only begun to explain about the journal when the doctor made him leave. I don’t think it’s prudent to mention John, though. I can’t prove anything where he is concerned and at this stage any talk about ghost hunts would only make them think I’m crazy.’

The doctor came in and smiled. ‘Hi you two. It’s very late, long past visiting hours.’

‘We were just leaving,’ Tom said as he helped his wife stand. ‘You’ll look after our Kel, won’t you, Helen?’

‘Of course. Now you’d better get out of here.’

Nancy reached over and kissed Kelly’s cheek.

‘You won’t forget about John?’ she whispered as Tom followed suit.

‘We won’t. You just rest up and we’ll come back first thing in the morning with something to read.’

Kelly squeezed Nancy’s hand.

As they left the inspector came back into the room. ‘Feeling any better, Ms Reid?’ he said by way of greeting.

‘A bit,’ she replied cautiously. She knew he was only doing his job but he made her feel very uncomfortable.

‘No questions now, Matt. Leave her to rest,’ the doctor warned.

‘All right. I just wanted to let Ms Reid know that I have placed a man outside in the hall.’

‘Why? I’m not about to run away.’

‘At this point you might be our best suspect, but if you’re innocent I can’t discount the possibility that you might also be in danger. If you’re not the killer … the real killer might think you saw something and want to make sure you can’t talk. Either way, I’ll feel better if I have an officer outside, guarding you.’

A wave of ice swamped her veins and she shivered. She hadn’t thought of that. Whoever had hit her no doubt thought he’d killed her as well. If he learned she was alive … she didn’t want to think about it. She tugged the sheet higher as if it could somehow shield her from any attempted attack.

‘I understand,’ she murmured.

The doctor ushered the inspector out then turned back to Kelly. ‘If you need anything at all, just push the button. If the headache gets worse let the nurse know immediately.’

‘I will. Thanks.’

‘Try and get some rest.’

John watched Tom and Nancy fussing about the room. He desperately wanted to ask them where Kelly had gone, but he was afraid they would run in fright and that would get him nowhere. He figured that if he listened, they might say something about Kelly’s whereabouts sooner or later. So he was astounded when Nancy approached the mirror and looked into it as if she searched for something.

‘John?’ she said tentatively, a concerned expression on her face. ‘Are you there?’

He didn’t know what to do. A shudder coursed through him.

‘John? Please, if you’re there … I have a message from Kelly,’ Nancy said.

‘Where is she?’ he begged. ‘What happened to her?’

Nancy jumped back, straight into her husband’s arms, quivering noticeably.

‘What happened? Tell me!’ He hadn’t meant to yell but he’d been terrified since Kelly had disappeared from the passage. He had heard the commotion, but Kelly had placed the mirror down so he’d seen nothing.

Tom stepped closer to the mirror, studying it intently.

‘Please, tell me what has happened,’ John said again, more calmly this time.

‘She is in the hospital at Abingdon,’ a white-faced Tom explained. ‘Someone knocked her unconscious while she searched for a book in the passage behind the library. She said to tell you she’ll be okay, but the doctors want to keep her in a few days just to make sure.’

John sighed, his heartbeat finally slowing. She was not badly harmed. He had begun to fear the worst.

‘Did you see who hit her?’ Nancy asked hesitantly. ‘Can you tell us anything?’

‘Alas, Madam – I saw nothing. The candle extinguished then I heard a scuffle. It was not until you broke down the wall, Sir, that I could again see.’

‘Did you see Deanna?’

‘The young miss who came to the manor a few days ago? I do not believe so.’

Tom sighed. ‘Deanna’s body was found in the passage with Kelly. The police suspect Kelly of her murder.’

‘You must be jesting, Kelly could not bring harm to anyone!’

‘I wish I were,’ said Tom, still studying the mirror for some sign of the man with whom he spoke. ‘With no one else to suspect …’

‘Are you sure you saw nobody else lurking about tonight?’ Nancy asked.

‘I dearly wish I could provide a name, Madam, but alas, I cannot. I have seen not another soul this past night.’

Tom nodded. ‘We will be going to see Kelly first thing in the morning … would you like us to take her a message?’

‘Please convey my best wishes. I will keep watch, as best I can, until she returns home,’ he answered solemnly.

‘We will,’ Nancy said with a broad smile.

As they started to leave, he added, ‘And tell her she will be in my thoughts.’

Nancy gathered a small bag, a book and a few other articles as she left. John’s eyes narrowed. The book appeared vaguely familiar to him. Still, it was of no importance. He had more pressing concerns. Now they searched for a killer also … and he knew which of the searches would take precedence. He would do all he could to clear Kelly’s name, and if that meant he must spend another twenty years in purgatory then he would do so. Gladly. And though his Maker had deserted him, he would pray for her every minute, indeed plead for her, until she returned to him.

Journal of Edward James Ditchley,

Stanthorpe House, Oxfordshire, England.

March 6, 1862

My Darling, vengeance is the sweetest thing. My new wife submitted, as I knew she would, even as your murderer railed against his prison. Young naïve Anne, she knew little of the ways of men, but I taught her. By debasing her, I debase him!

She claimed fear for the unborn babe when I demanded my conjugal right so I made her kneel before me and take me as a whore would. I stood before the mirror as I taught her how to please me. She sobbed so loudly she barely heard John’s shouts of protest. From the look of anguish upon her face I think perhaps she hears him and fears for her own sanity.

That is well – they can both rot in hell. Once the child is born I can dispense with Anne as well. Perhaps the sorcerer can provide an equally appealing answer?

No matter for now. We are achieving our justice, my love.