The Lord Who Sneered and Other Tales (5 page)

“It would seem not. Would you…Would you come with me?” he asked as he held out his hand to her.

“Go with you? But where?” She knew she should immediately slam the door between herself and temptation but found she simply could not.

“Only to the portrait gallery. We must identify our ghost at the very least.”

“Yes, oh yes, of course!” She felt greatly relieved that his intentions were thoroughly innocent and indulged herself in a moment of speculation; how his eyes should have twinkled if he had guessed the thoughts that crossed her mind! “I shall just be a moment.” She flew to find something with which to cover her night rail and came away with the peacock blue shawl which she wrapped firmly about herself. Going again to the door, she took the hand he held out still and quietly shut the door behind her.

She had moved down the passageways of Dunsmere in near darkness on more than one occasion and had never felt even a flicker of fear. However, in spite of the warmth of Theo’s hand clasping her own, she could not help but feel as if peril lingered in the depths of each and every shadow. “I cannot rightly recall; are apparitions tied to one place or might they appear anywhere?” she asked in a voice that, much to her chagrin, quavered. “I do believe I shall scream if a ghost appears right before our very eyes.” She shivered and leaned in closer to Theo who responded by putting his arm around her shoulders.

“I am far from an authority on the subject, but I am persuaded I have heard tell of ghosts who have appeared according to their will. However, you mustn’t scream; someone shall hear you.”

“Yes, of course, you are most correct.” She put a hand to her mouth to suppress any whimpering of a spontaneous nature and forced herself to go on until they reached the staircase. “The gallery is down this flight and on the far side of the ballroom. Do be careful of this step, just here,” she advised, “as it will squeak if you do not tread upon it lightly.”

“I fear I am much too much man to tread on any step lightly,” he bantered as the step did, indeed, creak under the weight of the tallest man Anne had ever before met. She had always fancied she would feel overshadowed in the presence of such a giant and was a bit taken aback by how sheltered, guarded and cherished it made her feel. It would all be of no consequence after tonight as he would be gone in a matter of hours, most likely never to return. The thought filled her with a fear far
greater than that induced by the ghost and she willed away the tears that started in her eyes.

When they made it down the stairs with no one the wiser that they were abroad in the night, she sighed her relief. She led him down the hall, through the blackened ballroom that had been a beacon of light only an hour since, and through to the portrait gallery which ran the length of the house. She couldn’t be certain but felt the painting in question was on the far end. Theo held up his candle to inspect the portraits in the case she was wrong and, as they passed each one, Anne’s apprehension grew. What if the face in the painting were the same as the one in the graveyard? The very idea caused a ripple of alarm to run up her spine so that her entire body shivered.

He drew her closer as if he felt her shuddering, and they made their way down the lengthy gallery. When they reached the end, Anne knew the last painting, a full-length one with a gold frame of a magnificence that surpassed even its enormity, was the one for which they had been looking. Theo held up the candle so that the visage of the man pictured should be plain to both and Anne was instantly gripped with a chill from head to toe. It was, indeed, the same man with the very same long, pointed nose and deep-set eyes under the very same rolled wig, old-fashioned frock coat and buckled shoes.

“Theo, is it the man you saw?” she whispered.

“Yes,” he replied in a voice that registered both resignation and a tinge of surprise. “I assume I am not wrong to suppose he is the one you saw, as well?”

She nodded, too shocked to speak. It was then that the glow of a distant light caught the corner of her eye, and she turned to see a ball of fire advance so slowly towards them that it seemed almost to stand still. She felt Theo’s shock in the arm he had about her shoulders and wordlessly, they watched the ball grow larger and larger until, quite suddenly, it was upon them.

“I see you have met the infamous Duke,” came a voice from behind the flames, one so dry and thin it took a moment for Anne to recognize it as the Dowager’s.

“Grandmama!” she cried.

The Dowager’s face appeared from behind the brace of glowing candles she held aloft as she
turned to view the portrait. “We never did meet in this life. He was my husband’s sire, but he died rather young, just as did his son after him, and my own. They say he walks this house and the grounds beyond, and many have heard him, including myself, I am sorry to say.” She turned to regard them, her eyes black as wells of ink in her skull. “However, he rarely appears and only as a warning at times of great danger,” she said in so ominous a manner that Anne felt herself shiver with apprehension.

“What are you saying?” Anne asked. “Is someone to die? A person in this house?”

The Dowager appeared to consider Anne’s question for a bit before she spoke. “It is not as simple as all that. He warns against actions, so much like his own, choices that will lead to any manner of peril. It is said that he atones for the sins of his youth by warning his descendants. As of yet, not one of them has heeded his message.”

“Does he speak, then?” Theo queried. “What manner of warning does he give?”

“He never speaks. His appearance is enough. Doubtless, that is why my son the Duke shall take no notice, just as his father and uncles failed to do.”

“But, how are we to know the warning is for the Duke of Marcross? Can it not be for anyone in the house?” Anne asked. “Does his appearance always presage certain death?”

“Who is to say?” the Dowager replied with a shrug of her shoulder. “However, he has appeared prior to the death of my husband, each of his three brothers and, I am sorry to say, my beloved son.”

“Not Uncle John!” Anne cried before she thought better of it. “I beg your pardon, Grandmama, but Reed often spoke of how dissimilar John was from the rest of the Crenshaws.”

“Yes, as different as Anthony is from his uncle, but he required a warning as much as the rest. He had a weak heart, but he refused to drink less, ride less, and he kept the most appalling hours. I was grief-stricken when he died, just as did the rest of them who deserved it far more.”

Anne was overcome with a new fear. “Reed; you don’t mean that he…?”

“Yes, as a warning of what was to come but not to anyone who knew to mention it until it was too late. Needless to say, a ghost that refuses to speak has little hope of comprehension. I only
understood it after the accident, myself. I made inquiries,” the Dowager added in so low a voice, Anne nearly did not catch her words.

“It would seem this ghost is not particularly discerning,” Theo pointed out. “To whom did he come the last time?”

The Dowager looked at him in some surprise. “To you, if I am to trust my instincts.”

“Yes, Grandmama, you are most correct, but, I believe Mr. Williams desires to know to whom the ghost appeared prior to tonight.”

“It is of no consequence,” the Dowager said with a wave of her hand. “It clearly has no bearing on his message. If he can appear to that witless Lady Avery, he clearly has, as you say, Mr. Williams, no discernment. That he appears, is enough.”

Anne had many more questions but her resolution dissolved when Theo drew her closer into the circle of his arm. She felt such comfort in his touch that she knew she need fear nothing as long as he was near.

“Your Grace,” he stated, “I can see you are apprehensive about this ghost. How you must agonize that one of your family is in danger. I don’t believe there is any reason to fear Anne could possibly be the one for whom the ghost appeared, but I shall not quit this house until I am persuaded she is not.”

Anne knew her emotions to be her downfall as she felt them quiver between her own fears and a giddy joy. “Oh, yes, Grandmama! I do believe I shall feel much safer were Mr. Williams present; at least until we learn what is meant by the ghost’s appearance,” she pleaded.

“I do believe I shall, as well,” the Dowager said to Anne’s astonishment. “I shall give you, Mr. Williams, free reign to ask what you might of whom. If there is an ill fate awaiting my son the Duke, so be it, but if my Anthony is in danger, I shall move Heaven and Earth to put a stop to it!”

It seemed there was nothing more to say and the three of them moved, as one, down the long gallery and back the way they had come. Not a word was exchanged, but Anne dared to put a hand to
rest against Theo’s where it encircled her shoulder. Periodically he gave it a squeeze as he looked down into her face with a light in his eyes that owed nothing to the candle he held.

Once they had climbed the stairs and headed down the passage of private chambers, Anne began to feel apprehensive. Not only should she be required to spend the balance of the night alone in her room but Grandmama would likely make some humiliating remark designed to keep Theo at arm’s length. However, when they gained her door, she disappeared into her room with nary a word.

Anne looked at Theo in astonishment who gazed back at her in such a way that it would surely have made the blood sing in her veins if she hadn’t been so stiff with fear. “I shall see you at breakfast, as usual,” she related. “Afterwards, we shall begin our quest for answers.”

He gave no response until he had dropped his arm from her shoulder and stepped round to tower over her. “I am just down the hall. You need only scream, and I shall be at your door.”

“Yes. Yes, I do know. Thank you. It is a comfort.”

“You are trembling. Is it just with cold?”

“Yes,” she said but she saw in his eyes that he knew she lied.

“What if I were to stay?”

Anne felt the shock in her face. “Whatever can you mean, Mr. Williams?”

“Now, now, don’t jump to conclusions. I merely suggest that I might sit here, outside your door, and you might sit on the other side. I expect you are too frightened to sleep, and you should not be alone. Dawn won’t be long in coming; we can wait it out together.”

“Why, Mr. Williams, what a brilliant notion,” Anne replied with as much enthusiasm as she could manage without the Dowager overhearing.

“What is this ‘Mr. Williams’?” he asked in extravagant dismay. “I had thought we were more than comfortable with Theo.”

“Yes, I am. That is; I had thought so, as well,” she added in hopes she had not given away too much of her feelings. “Shall we try it, then? We shall have to whisper so that Grandmama does not
hear us.”

“In that case,” he said as he turned the key, pushed open her chamber door and indicated that she should enter, “perhaps we might leave the door open, just a crack, so as to hear one another without disturbing Her Grace.”

Anne felt they were skating perilously close to dangerous territory but did not hesitate to fetch Theo a blanket from the bed. They sat as he suggested, he with her blanket and she with another, as they went over the trivia of their respective lives, childhoods and wishes for the future, the door open just enough that they might see one another’s face in the glow of his candle. The time passed as if it were nothing, and the sun’s rays made their way into their dark and comfortable cose far too soon. When Anne could fully discern Theo’s face, she knew it was time to bid one another adieu for the time being.

“I am forever in your debt, Theo, but the maid will soon be up to light the fires and I had best be found beneath the covers when she does.”

He rose and passed the blanket through to her with an angelic smile of gratitude that was thoroughly undone by the devilish twinkle in his eye. However, somewhat to her dismay, his words were perfectly innocent. “You must promise to lay abed until you feel rested. The later we commence our ghost hunt, the longer it shall take.” He took her hand and held it in the space that marked the threshold. “I, for one, am eager for it to take as long as possible.”

Anne felt herself blush. “I had never supposed I should be so glad to have seen a ghost,” she said, hoping desperately that her words communicated her own eagerness without compromising the last of her decorum.

He said nothing but the expression in his eyes spoke volumes. He stepped closer, drew her hand to his lips and kissed it. “Goodnight, Anne.”

She wanted nothing more than to prolong the moment, to discover in what direction it might lead, what else might have been said to indicate the state of his feelings, but there wasn’t the time.
Regretfully she withdrew her hand and pushed to the door as gently as possible. As she wrapped herself in the blanket that had so recently warmed the tall but tender man with whom she had shared her dreams, she contemplated the happiness she might find in life, if only it included Theo. With a sigh, she returned to bed and was asleep before the maid scratched at the door.

When she awoke, the room was sunk in the shadows of high noon. Quickly, she rose and dressed for the day. Though she wished to lengthen the time Theo spent at Dunsmere as much as he, she had no desire to waste even a moment of it away from him.

Chapter Four

Theo sat in the breakfast room, polishing off the remains of a sumptuous feast. He had slept less than he ought but longer than he had wished. He meant to make the most of his time with Anne and he meant to begin as soon as possible. When she came through the door, looking delightfully disheveled, he thought, perhaps, she felt the same.

Leaping to his feet, he pulled out a chair. “What shall you have to break your fast this lovely morning? Or is it already the afternoon?” he gently chided as he went to the sideboard and took up a plate. “We have ghostly kippers, phantom eggs and an alarming lack of banshee bacon.”

Anne laughed, a thoroughly enchanting sound. “I had best have as much banshee bacon as remains. I am persuaded every successful ghost hunt courts disaster if not fortified with plentiful bacon and eggs and a rack of demon toast with bloodied butter.”