The Ghosts of Peppernell Manor (18 page)

When I picked up Lucy from school she was tired and a little cranky. She was weepy on the way home and fell asleep as soon as we got back to Peppernell Manor. While she napped I worked on trying to remove some of the black paint from the floor in the ballroom. I hadn't had a chance to work on it since I had to retrieve Lucy from Florida. It was hard work to remove the paint without damaging the floor. It was a job that would take many hours. I planned to repaint the walls after the dried paint was removed from the floor.

Dinner that night was a little strained. Lucy was grumpy and there was obviously something up between Graydon and Vivian. They apparently did not want to discuss it during the meal, and I suspected it was because of the presence of a child in the dining room. Evie kept glancing at them, as if she knew what was going on. I was anxious to get Lucy upstairs for a bath and bedtime; I knew Evie would fill me in later.

Lucy fell asleep as soon as she was in bed. I tiptoed out of the room and knocked softly on Evie's door.

“You going downstairs?” I asked.

“Yeah. Meet you in the drawing room.”

I went down and waited for her. She looked keyed up when she came in.

“What's up?” I asked her.

“The police called Daddy today. They think they've got the person who killed Harlan.”

“Who?” I asked eagerly.

“Some new guy in that investment group. I guess he had a falling-out with Harlan over money about a week before Harlan's death, and he was just arrested on a domestic violence charge.”

“Are they sure?”

“Sure enough that they're going to charge him with Harlan's murder.”

“You and your parents must feel such a sense of relief.”

She nodded absently. “We do. We wanted to tell you at dinner, but we really couldn't discuss it with Lucy there.”

“I know. Are you okay?”

She gave me a half smile, her eyes glistening. She blinked several times before answering. “I guess so. I really miss Harlan. I'm feeling so many things right now. I just wish he was still here, that's all.” Large tears began to slide down her cheeks and I went over and sat down next to her on the sofa. I held her hand in mine.

“I'm so sorry, Evie.” I didn't have to say anything else. All she needed was for me to sit there with her in the semidarkness and hold her hand. She cried quietly for several minutes before sniffling and saying she was going to go upstairs and call Boone.

“Thanks for being here, Carleigh,” she said as she left the room.

“What are friends for?”

Just then my cell phone buzzed with a text from Heath. Y
OU BUSY
?

N
O,
I texted him.

I waited for him on the veranda. He came up the steps and held me in a big, long hug.

“Are you thinking about Harlan?” I asked.

“Yes. I can't believe it's finally over. All the worrying and the waiting to find out who did it.”

“I was just talking to Evie about it.”

“How are Mom and Dad doing?” he asked.

“No one talked about it at dinner because Lucy was in the room. But they seemed subdued.”

“I haven't had a chance to talk to them about it. Evie called me earlier at my office and gave me the news.”

“I'm sure they're trying to deal with the outcome, just like everyone else. I can't imagine losing a child. And to such a senseless act of violence.”

“Let's do something fun tomorrow,” Heath suggested suddenly. “I need a break from everything. From the talk about Harlan, from the firm, from the farm. Let's pick up Lucy from school and take her to the aquarium in Charleston.”

“Okay,” I agreed. “She would love that!”

After I dropped Lucy off at school the next morning I returned to Peppernell Manor and spent the day working on the ballroom floor again. The day passed quickly as I made measurable progress, and by the time I was ready to leave for Charleston to pick up Lucy, I estimated that I could remove the rest of the paint stains on the floor by the next day. Then I could start repainting the walls to cover up the ugly scars made by the black paint.

I could see Heath's lanky figure standing outside Lucy's nursery school before I parked my car. His face lit up and he grinned at me as I walked toward him.

When I had brought Lucy outside, Heath and I explained to her that we had a trip planned. She was immediately excited.

The aquarium, located on the Charleston Harbor, was incredible. Lucy loved everything, from the salt marsh aviary to the touch tank to the ocean tank to the turtle hospital. We hated to leave at closing time, but Lucy was exhausted. She fell asleep on the way home. I was carrying her into the house when I heard Addie barking again. I smiled to myself, thinking that Addie must be beside herself when Heath wasn't around. I was beginning to understand the feeling.

The next day I was able to finish removing the stains from the floor and begin applying a coat of the peacock blue paint on the walls. Standing back to look at it as it dried, I could still see black streaks underneath the paint. It would need at least one or two more coats. I hoped that the person who had ruined my first paint job would stay away from the ballroom after this.

That night after dinner Evie took Lucy upstairs to look through a trunk that held dress-up clothes from Evie's childhood, complete with high-heeled shoes and fancy hats. I knew this would keep Lucy busy for days, but all I asked was a half hour to go for a short walk with Heath.

As much as I wanted to stay outside and continue walking in the cool dusk, I returned to the manor and found Lucy draped in a pink chiffon dress that was way too big for her. Her little feet teetered in a pair of high-heeled strappy sandals. She wore a feather boa around her neck. I snapped a few photos with my cell phone to text to my parents and maybe even Brad.

Evie was having fun, too. She had dressed in a long green gown with sparkly straps. The two of them explained that they were getting ready to go to a party.

“Can I come?”

“Yes, but you have to bring Heath, too,” Lucy informed me.

“Well,” I told her, laughing, “Heath has gone to bed and now it's almost your turn.”

“I think she's getting used to having Heath around,” Evie whispered to me.

I grinned. “I think she is, too.”

Evie let out a little squeal. “That is sooo exciting!”

I had to agree.

O
ver the next three days I finished touching up the ceiling and painting the walls of the ballroom. The color was deep and rich and there wasn't a trace of the black paint that had so marred the room. It was time to get started painting the walls of the entry hall. The downstairs was really coming together nicely and it would be finished in time for Graydon and Vivian's open house soon after Thanksgiving. As long as no one tampered with it again.

One night at dinner Graydon and Vivian announced to everyone at the table that they were thinking of going out of town for Thanksgiving. This evidently came as a surprise to Evie and Heath. Evie protested that the family always had Thanksgiving together at Peppernell Manor.

“This year is different, Evie,” Graydon explained quietly. “With Mother and Harlan both gone, we thought we might take a little vacation to get away from Peppernell Manor for a short time. Your mother thinks it might be too difficult around here without them. Just this year, you understand. By next year maybe we can be together again at home.”

“I guess I could celebrate Thanksgiving with Boone's family,” Evie said with a pout. She turned to Heath. “What about you?”

He looked at me. “I don't know yet,” he answered. “It kind of depends on Carleigh and Lucy.”

Graydon smiled at him. Heath actually blushed.

“My parents have invited me—us—to have Thanksgiving with them,” I ventured. “That is, if you're interested.”

“I guess I'm having Thanksgiving in Florida this year, then,” Heath said with a grin.

“With us?” Lucy asked him.

“Yup.”

“Yay!” she squealed.

Evie looked troubled. “What about Ruby? And Phyllis?”

“Ruby is going with us,” Graydon replied.

“And Phyllis will just have to find family or friends to visit while we're all gone,” Vivian stated flatly.

“Well,” Evie began doubtfully, “I guess we don't have much choice this year. But please, can we all be here for Christmas? You too, Carleigh. And Lucy.”

I laughed. “Let's get through Thanksgiving first before we start worrying about where Lucy and I are going to be for Christmas.”

Over the next several days I finished the floor in the sitting room, touched up several places where the paint had removed the stain from the ballroom floor, and painted the front hall. In contrast to the other rooms on the first floor, Cora-Camille had chosen a soft ivory color for the walls in the front hall. She had told me she didn't want to startle anyone who walked into the entry hall with a great swath of color. I thought the ivory would be beautiful with the grand staircase and the marble floors. Cora-Camille's idea had been to find portraits of Peppernell ancestors in the basement and attic and have them cleaned, reframed if necessary, and hung in the front hall to greet guests. I initially thought the idea was a little morbid, but she thought it was a great way to give a nod to the Peppernell ancestors.

Cora-Camille had taken me up to the attic one day to find the portraits she had in mind. There were several. Large, severe-looking portraits of men, women, and children in the Peppernell line had been wrapped in cracked brown paper and stacked against each other. But those portraits weren't sufficient to cover the walls as Cora-Camille had wished, so I needed to look for more portraits in the basement. Unfortunately, Cora-Camille had passed away before she had gotten a chance to go down there with me.

I went down to the basement by myself one afternoon while Vivian was looking after Lucy for me. As fascinating as the cellar was, my imagination sometimes took charge when I was down there alone. The echoes of my footsteps reached me from the dark recesses of the huge space, and I couldn't wait to locate the paintings and get back upstairs to daylight and other people.

I poked through several of the small rooms in the basement before I finally found the portraits stacked on the floor in an old storage area. Like the ones in the attic, these were wrapped in brittle brown paper. I took them upstairs to the large table in the kitchen to unwrap them and have a good look at them. I was amazed at what I found.

Looking up at me from the top of the stack was a portrait that could have been taken of Heath. Or Harlan. Some old Peppernell ancestor stared from the canvas, his spectacled eyes bright and intelligent. I was thrilled with my find and couldn't wait to have it reframed and hung up in the front hall.

I also found a portrait of a woman seated in what looked like the drawing room. I was very pleased to note that the color of the walls behind her was a deep coral, just like I had painted it so recently. What interested me most about the portrait, though, was not the subject herself, but a person standing behind her and to the very edge of the painting. It was a woman—one who looked just like Phyllis, but younger.

Could that be Sarah?
I wondered. How wonderful it would be if I could have this painting restored and given to Phyllis as a gift. I didn't know if she had ever seen the portrait, but I doubted so. I would ask Evie before broaching the subject with Graydon or Vivian. And if the person in the background of the painting was Sarah and I could get the portrait restored, maybe Phyllis would forgive me for forging ahead with the restoration of the slave cabins.

I could hear Phyllis coming to the back door of the kitchen from her apartment, so I quickly covered up the portrait and picked up the unwieldy stack of paintings. I took them all into the drawing room and placed them against a wall.

I hadn't even asked Graydon about his ideas for the entry hall, but I assumed he would accede to his late mother's wishes, as he had done since her passing. I asked him about hanging the portraits in the entry hall that night at dinner.

“I guess so,” he said a little doubtfully. “What do you think, Carleigh?”

“When Cora-Camille first suggested the idea, I thought it was a little macabre. Like something you'd find in a haunted house. But the idea has grown on me, to be honest with you. Having old Peppernell ancestors looking down on the people coming and going through the front hall might be a really interesting way of keeping history alive in the manor.”

“I think it's a good idea,” Ruby said. Again, I had forgotten to address her in my inquiries regarding the restoration of the manor. It was easy to forget that she was one of the owners, too.

“Well then, let's go ahead with it,” Graydon boomed. “If we decide we don't like it, we can always take the portraits down, but they might look very good up there.”

Later that evening, I sat in the drawing room with Evie. Lucy had fallen asleep on the sofa, so I would just carry her upstairs when I went to bed. “You wouldn't believe two of the paintings I found in the basement this afternoon,” I told her. “There's one that looks exactly like Heath and Harlan and one is of a person who I think might be Sarah.”

Her eyes widened. “You're kidding! I'd love to see them.”

I got up to unwrap the paintings I had stacked against the wall earlier. She was amazed by the resemblance between the old Peppernell gentleman and her brothers.

“Hey,” she said excitedly. “How about having this restored and giving it to Heath for Christmas? He could hang it in the carriage house instead of in the front hall. What do you think?”

“I didn't even consider that,” I admitted. “I assumed it would hang in the front hall in the manor. But he might like it in his own house. Could I give it to him for Christmas? I'd pay to have it restored myself.”

“He'd love it!”

“Now you have to see this other painting,” I told her. She couldn't believe the resemblance between the woman in the painting and Phyllis. I told her my idea of having the portrait restored and given to Phyllis as a gift.

“Is there a date on the back of the portrait? I guess we can figure out whether that's Sarah if we can figure out when the portrait was done.” We checked the back and sure enough, there was a date that corresponded with the time Sarah would have worked as a slave inside the great house at Peppernell Manor.

“As long as we can assume this is Sarah, I think it's a good idea to give Phyllis the painting as a gift. But don't tell Mother what you're planning,” she cautioned. “You know how she feels about Phyllis.”

“I don't want to hide anything from your mother.”

“Then maybe I can suggest to Daddy that
I
pick out a gift for Phyllis for Christmas this year. We always get her a nice gift, and if he puts me in charge I can see that this painting is restored and given to her. Mother will be more likely to keep her mouth shut if she thinks she might hurt
my
feelings by saying something uncharitable about Phyllis's gift.”

I grinned. “That's a great idea. Thanks.”

I carried Lucy upstairs that night and could hear Addie barking again as I drifted off to sleep. The next morning Heath came over to the manor for breakfast.

“Heath, can't you keep that dog of yours quiet at night?” Graydon asked grumpily. “She kept me up long past my bedtime.”

“Sorry, Dad,” Heath replied. “At first I thought she was barking because she was lonely, but now I'm beginning to think that she's barking because she likes the sound of her own voice.”

“Can't you keep her inside your house?”

“Usually I do, but I have to let her out once in a while.”

“All right,” Graydon grumbled. “Thank the good Lord she doesn't bark all day, too, or I'd never get any work done.”

Heath grinned at his father. “I'll have a talk with Addie.”

I noticed Phyllis looking at me out of the corner of her eye as she served breakfast. She raised her eyebrows at me as if to say
I told you that dog is bad luck.

“Phyllis,” Vivian said, “we need to start pulling decorations out of storage for the holiday open house.”

“I'll start that today,” Phyllis answered.

“Any word on that storm?” Heath asked Graydon.

“It's a slow-moving one,” Graydon replied. “The last I heard it's supposed to miss Florida and move in farther north toward the Atlantic coast of the U.S.”

“What are they saying about timing?” Heath wanted to know.

“Still several days off,” Graydon answered. “We need to keep an eye on the radar.”

I didn't like listening to talk of any storm. “What happens if the storm heads this way?” I asked no one in particular.

“We batten down the hatches,” Graydon said. “I'm going to keep my radio on today and see what the meteorologists are saying. We'll have to get some work done around here on the outside of the manor if the storm is headed for us.”

“What kind of work?” I asked.

“We'll need to shutter all the windows on the manor and on the dependencies,” Heath said. “Anything outside has to be fully secured. I'll have to make sure the stables are good and tight and we'll have to make sure all the farm machinery and tools are put away and secured.”

“Has there ever been a hurricane here before?”

“Oh, sure,” Graydon told me. “Lots of them. Some are worse than others, of course. There have been some storms that caused terrible damage, and others that haven't turned out to be that bad. It just depends on the track of the storm.”

I hated to talk about this in front of Lucy, but I needed to know for my own peace of mind that there was a plan in place if a hurricane were headed our way. Besides, she seemed preoccupied with a bird that was hopping around on the ground outside the window.

But she had been listening. On the way into Charleston just a short while later, she asked, “Mama, is there a storm coming?”

“I don't know. We have to wait and see.”

“Soon?”

“Maybe. But don't worry. It's just rain and wind.” I hoped I sounded more confident than I felt.

“I love rain and wind,” she responded cheerfully.

I spent much of that day in several Charleston shops, gathering information about the best place to drop off all the paintings that needed to be restored. I eventually decided on a small shop off the beaten path in the city, and left the paintings there. Unfortunately, though, they would not be ready in time for Vivian's open house.

After I picked up Lucy that afternoon, we went back to the manor and Evie looked after her for a short time while I painted some touch-up spots on the walls in the front hall. The walls looked clean and elegant in ivory. I spoke to Graydon and Vivian that evening about artwork that could go on the walls temporarily while we waited for the portraits to be restored.

Vivian snapped her fingers. “I have just the thing,” she said excitedly. “A collection of antique Lowcountry oil paintings just came into the store. I could bring them back to the manor for a temporary display on the walls in the front hall.

“There are twelve paintings in the collection and they're quite large,” she said. “They won't all fit in the front hall. Why don't you come into the store tomorrow and we'll decide together which would look best?”

When I arrived at Vivian's store the next morning after dropping Lucy at school, she was with a customer. She smiled at me when I walked in and turned back to the man so I had a chance to watch them interact. She seemed very knowledgeable about the antiques in her store. I was impressed, as was the customer. He bought two large pieces of furniture and several smaller knickknacks.

After they had made delivery arrangements, the man left and Vivian walked over to me.

“I didn't even put any of the paintings on display,” she told me conspiratorially. “I wanted you to see them first to decide if they'll work at the manor. I think they'll be perfect.” She led me to a large back room that was chock-f of antiques. I could have spent hours wandering around that room and the front of her store. She walked straight to a large wooden crate and bent over its side. She beckoned to me and I joined her. Inside the crate were at least twenty wall hangings, presumably paintings, all generously wrapped and stacked on their sides. She was busily unwrapping a painting.