Paulina had begun to pace. “How long do we have to stay?”
“Lady Genevieve said all night. It can’t be more than eleven o’clock now.”
“Lady Genevieve, Lady Genevieve! She’s snug enough in her bed, I’ll warrant. Do you think she’s quite ... you know?”
“I should say rather that she’s awake on every suit.”
Lillian dared not repeat Lady Genevieve’s opinion of Paulina. “Silly chit” had been the mildest of the abuse. Thinking of the look in that lady’s eye when Paulina had begun asking discreet questions about the castle, Lillian pulled the edges of her cloak together. She dared not consider what plans Lady Genevieve had made for their reception tonight, but she felt certain it would not be long before some “spirit” or other made an appearance. She only hoped Paulina would not dash her brains against a wall while running madly out of the castle or shatter too much glass with her screams. To replace all the windows in the house might strain even Thorpe’s boundless pockets.
Dreary minutes passed like weighty hours. The tapping of the rain was unrelieved by any sound, save Paulina’s complaints. These came as often as the chiming of a clock. She was cold, she was hot, she was bored. Just as she said, “I almost wish a ghost would appear, if only to pass the time!” a ghastly moan arose from what seemed under their very feet!
Paulina flew at once to Lillian’s side. “What was that?” she gasped.
Pressing her hand to the back of her neck to lay the raised hairs, Lillian said, “I have no idea. Don’t dig your nails into me, if you please.”
“How can you be so calm? We—we might see anything!”
“We might see nothing.”
“Oh, no? Then what is that?”
From the arched entrance to the stairway, an ominous glow bobbed and swayed on the walls. The insubstantial light seemed to be pale green like the misleading gleams seen in swamps and over unquiet graves. A slow chant that sighed and whispered echoed strangely up out of the stairwell.
Shaking off Paulina’s clutching fingers, Lillian advanced. “Who is it?” she called. “Who’s down there?”
“Twenty-one, twenty-two, twenty-three, twenty-four!” Ending on a note of triumph, Addy emerged from the doorway, holding in her hand a crude lantern, a wick bobbing in a green glass bowl of oil. “There are twenty-four steps twice, Miss Cole! I counted them very carefully.”
Relieved, Lillian said, “That makes forty-eight, Addy. Remind me to teach you to count higher than twenty-four.”
Paulina advanced. The flickering light sent strange shadows across her face, making her look old. “Who sent you here to frighten us? Don’t you have any better sense than to come here in the middle of the night?”
That seemed to Lillian to be a case of a kettle criticizing complexions, but as it was what she wanted to know herself, she asked, “Yes, what are you doing here, Addy?”
“I came to see the ghost!” She held her makeshift lantern high and peered in all the corners. “Aren’t there any?”
“No, there is no such thing.” Lillian took the bowl, as the oil was slopping about dangerously. “Why, you’re sopping wet! Didn’t you think to bring your cloak and bonnet?” Addy shook her head, water droplets flying. Paulina shrank back. “Well, you can’t stay here like that. You’ll catch a cold.”
Paulina said at once, “I can’t take her... I’ll get my feet wet. Do you know what these shoes cost?”
“No, you’d better stay here. After all, it is you who wants to see the ghost, isn’t it?”
“I told you why I’m staying. Take the naughty thing back to the house. But leave that light.”
“Very well.” Lillian gave the bowl to Paulina. Bending, she picked Addy up in her arms. “You might as well not get any wetter. I’ll be back in a few minutes, Paulina. Just as soon as I deliver Miss Everard to a maid.”
Perforce, Lillian took longer over the business than she’d thought she’d have to, although it had at least stopped raining. First, a scullery maid was awakened and sent up to rouse Burrows, an apparently Herculean task. Then, though Lillian had stripped off Addy’s wet clothes at once, the child was shivering so that a bath had to be heated. Finally, Burrows arrived, yawning, and Lillian spent several minutes talking to her to be certain the maid was awake enough to watch Addy in her tub without risking a drowning for either of them. Lastly, Lillian had to procure a lantern of her own, for she was not about to return to the castle without one, if it meant disturbing all the spirits in hell.
Entering the castle and climbing the stairs took much less time when she could see what she was doing. She called out to Paulina so as not to frighten her, but the echoes danced so queerly about her that she did not call again. Reaching the top, she held the lantern high. “Paulina?”
Here was the track in the dust where the baroness had paced. Here was the oil that Addy had spilled on the floor not half an hour ago. Even the green glass bowl sat beside the fireplace, the wick extinguished. Of Paulina there remained not a trace. She was gone!
Lillian closed her eyes and lightly shook her head. The thing was impossible, so therefore it must be an illusion. Peeping under one lid, she saw that the room was still empty of all life save her own, and a skitter that might have been made by a rat. Lillian thought, well, then, obviously she has wandered into one of the other rooms. The wick went out so she left the bowl here, as it is now useless.
Lillian knelt and relit the wick from her own lantern. The resulting glow had a welcoming look. If Paulina came back, she’d know that someone had been here and would, with luck, not wander off again. Meanwhile, Lillian, telling herself firmly that there was nothing to be worried about, went searching for Paulina.
The once-grand rooms were chilly, as though they resented the disturbance of their dust and their sleep. Immune now to such psychic fancies, Lillian walked boldly through, puzzled. No matter how expensive Paulina’s shoes had been, surely they had not carried her across these heavily powdered floorboards without leaving some trace behind. Her own soaking slippers left trail enough, dark on the dusty floor.
Hearing a faint noise behind her, Lillian put it down to another rodent until she heard a moan. Turning, she lifted her lantern high and’ said, “Paulina?”
“Ooooh! Ooooooh! Baroness Pritchaaaard!” A white figure approached, waving amorphous appendages and moaning piteously. Lillian waited, unafraid. The shape paused as if at a loss, before once more stepping forward. “Ooooooh?”
“Mr. Becksnaff, you make a highly unconvincing apparition. I might not have thought so if shoes had not rather been on my mind this evening.” The sheeted butler raised his veils to peer at his feet. “Only a butler of the most perfect quality ever accomplishes such a perfect shine on the leather.”
‘Thank you, Miss Cole. I must say I’m not looking forward to walking back through all that wet grass. I was fortunate to hide in here before the rain began. Please allow me to clean your shoes, once we return to the house. I’m afraid the boot boy is not yet fully trained.”
“Thank
you,
Mr. Becksnaff.”
“Furthermore, I apologize for frightening you. You
were
frightened? Her ladyship was certain sure you would be.”
“Petrified, I assure you. Tell me, was Lady Pritchard similarly impressed?”
“Pardon me, miss, but I thought you were Lady Pritchard. I’m relieved to find you are not. I had wanted what my brother the actor used to call a run-through, but there was not time before leaving the house. Er, where is Lady Pritchard? I feel quite confident now and would like to commence the performance in earnest.”
“I’m afraid you’ll have to wait, Mr. Becksnaff. I’m afraid Lady Pritchard has vanished.”
“Vanished, miss? Her ladyship will be most displeased, I fear.”
“Nevertheless—Lady Pritchard may be injured. We’ll have to search for her. Do you return to the house and call out the other servants. The castle will have to be searched. And you better inform Mr. Everard. He’ll want to know immediately.” She wished fervently that he were here and determined to tell him everything the moment she saw him again. Never again would she be forced into untenable positions by another’s threats, let Thorpe think of her what he would.
“Very good, miss. I wonder if you wouldn’t mind telling her ladyship for me. She’s likely to be most displeased with me for failing to arrive before the baroness disappeared.”
“I don’t see how it is your fault. I shall tell Lady Genevieve so.”
“Thank you, miss.” He’d pulled off the sheet and stood exposed in his natural butler’s attire, though his hair was more tousled than was strictly proper. “Er, if you wouldn’t mind going first with that lantern? These rooms, I don’t know what it is, but they seem darker than they are.”
* * * *
Informed of developments. Lady Genevieve, her head swathed in a great sleeping turban, nodded and said, “Have the servants been organized to search for her? Excellent. They shan’t fare too well, I imagine, at least not until dawn. But it makes for excitement. I sometimes fear they will all leave us, for there is no doubt the castle is very dull.”
“I have not found it so, my lady. What will you do now?”
“I? Why, return to my rest. Does Thorpe know?” Lillian said she’d told Mr. Becksnaff to wake him. “You think of everything, my dear. Oh, Miss Canfield? I have another gift for you, one which I hope you will find as inspirational as I have.” She reached toward a dressing table that stood near her bed. Finding the floor chilly, she had returned to bed as soon as she’d let Lillian in. “Here you are.”
“A book?” It was bound in a dark blue cloth, with leather tips on all the corners. She opened it to the title page. “ ‘Being a Diverse account of various Hauntings, so-called ghosts, and tales of mysteries from all corners of these islands. By a Reverend Gentleman.’ “ Lillian turned a look of amazement on the old woman. “Do you mean to say ... ?”
“Don’t read it now; there’s a good girl. Keep it for those nights when you cannot sleep. I declare it has done me a power of good. Pray extinguish the candles as you leave. I’m rather tired and would fain sleep awhile.” Lady Genevieve let her cheek fall onto her pillow and closed her eyes.
In disgust at this blatant piece of acting which neither Addy nor Becksnaff’s brother would have dared to indulge in, Lillian said nothing more but did as she was bid. She let the door slam behind her and, no doubt, would have felt guilty at this bad behavior had she not chanced to hear Lady Genevieve chortling behind the door.
Feeling very much put-upon, Lillian shoved the small blue book into the pocket of her cloak. She let the front door of the castle close behind her with an even more satisfactory bang than she’d achieved with Lady Genevieve’s. Now all that remained was to find Paulina and restore her to Mottisbury Castle. Then, Lillian promised herself, she would depart, leaving the master, his daughter, his servants and, above all, his grandmother to Paulina’s gentle affections. As for her own feelings, she would root them out of her heart if it took a return voyage to India to do it.
Her head bowed with determination, Lillian rushed forward. She ran immediately into something like a sofa cushion, only taller. The lantern fell and broke on the pavement. Hands came up to steady her, even as a male voice said, “Oooof! What in the name of the old man goes on here?” The voice, timbre and rhythm were as familiar to her as her own.
“Father?”
“Lillian? Is that you, my girl? Now that’s a thing I never expected. Did you come here with Paulina? Lady Pritchard, that is. The sly minx would only say she’s going on a trip; she never said a word about you going with her.”
In the midst of her pleasure in seeing him again, a dreadful suspicion sprang up, fully armed, from Lillian’s head. What had Paulina said about her importunate older suitor? “Father, how well do you know Paulina?”
“Well enough to be sure of a warm welcome when I greet her in the morning. Women like little surprises like that, don’t they, my dear?”
“She didn’t know you were coming here, then?”
“No, indeed. I had to bribe her servants to tell me where she’d gone... and a pretty penny it cost me, too. Thieving wretches. But I don’t count the cost if it brings me nearer to kissing her dear hand again. I can hardly wait for morning.”
“How ever did you meet Paulina?”
“You forget, we met years ago at that school of yours. I had no notion she’d grown into such a taking little creature until I went down to her house.” Mr. Canfield coughed. “Fact is, my girl, I... well, dash it... I missed you. We did not part on the best of terms, you know.”
Moved, Lillian squeezed her father’s arm. “I was not truly angry, Father.”
“ ‘Course not. You were disappointed, same as me. But the baroness made me see you were right not to marry that earl.”
“She did? How?”
“I don’t know exactly. She’s got a very persuading way with her. Mayhap you’ve not noticed, being female yourself.”
“Oh, I’ve noticed.” Lillian thought her father sounded very unlike himself. “Father, have you proposed to her?”
“Aye, several times. But she’d never have me, though something in her eye tells me she don’t find me all that old! I’m hoping this visit, being romantic and all, will bring her around. You’re not the only one to find a title to marry, my fine lady! But I mean to keep mine.”
“If you can find her...”
“Eh? What’s that you said?”
Briefly, Lillian explained. She tried to be careful and to leave out the reason for this strange adventure, for fear of bruising her father’s heart. As a result, she and Paulina appeared to be a pair of feather-wits, irresponsibly avid for a new sensation.
With his gift for finding the flaw in any proposition, Mr. Canfield said, “That doesn’t sound like you, Lillian, but I imagine my saucy pet brought you ‘round to it. What a merchant she’d have made, if she’d been born to it as I was! Though I doubt she’d be pleased to be told so.”
Lillian thought that Paulina would be pleased enough by the compliment, if a costly enough diadem accompanied it. She muttered some vague words in reply.
Mr. Canfield continued, “ 'Tis a pity you had to leave her, but I see that your first duty was to the child. Well, come on, girl, you’d best show me to this castle so I can help with looking for her.”