The Ghosts of Ardenthwaite (The Northminster Mysteries Book 5) Read online

  THE GHOSTS OF ARDENTHWAITE

  by

  Harriet Smart

  Copyright © 2016 Harriet Smart

  Published by Anthemion

  Made with Jutoh

  ISBN 978-1-907873-46-1

  Third Edition

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

  License Notes

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Chapter Twenty-five

  Chapter Twenty-six

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-one

  Chapter Thirty-two

  Chapter Thirty-three

  Chapter Thirty-four

  Chapter Thirty-five

  Chapter Thirty-six

  Chapter Thirty-seven

  Chapter Thirty-eight

  Epilogue

  Also by Harriet Smart

  The Butchered Man: Northminster Mystery 1

  The Dead Songbird: Northminster Mystery 2

  The Shadowcutter: Northminster Mystery 3

  The Hanging Cage: Northminster Mystery 4

  The True Value of Pearls

  The Daughters of Blane

  Green Grow the Rushes

  The Wild Garden

  The Lark Ascending

  Reckless Griselda

  A Tempting Proposal

  About the Author

  Made with Jutoh

  Chapter One

  April, 1841

  They reached Ardenthwaite at dusk – a crisp, cool spring dusk, lit clearly after a day of sun. The wind accompanied them as they rode down the long avenue of chestnuts that led to the house, making the scanty new greenery shiver and whisper.

  The old house soon lay in sight, the setting sun catching here and there on the ancient lattices, and the smell of wood smoke filling the air. The thought of a fire and a glass of wine was a pleasant one after the ride from Northminster, but Felix could not be sure how they would be received. The circumstances were awkward, to say the least.

  Major Vernon had dismounted and given charge of his horse to Holt. Felix did the same, and as Holt rode off towards the stable yard, they stood for a moment looking at the house.

  It had been nearly a year since Felix had last crossed the threshold. Once again he did not feel as if he had much claim on the place, but the fact remained: it was his house, and because of that he was obliged to be there and deal with this strange business.

  “When we were last here,” he said to Major Vernon, “did you see anything that you could not account for?”

  Major Vernon did not answer, for a tall, thin man dressed in a green riding coat came striding out of the house. For a moment, Felix found himself blinking, for the man had in his physique and bearing a strong resemblance to Major Vernon – they might have been brothers. He was accompanied by two pepper and salt pointers, who were yelping and leaping with excitement. By his appearance, Felix surmised this must be Colonel Parham, his tenant.

  “Gentlemen!” the Colonel said. “Very glad to see you, very good of you to come! Mr Carswell,” he went on, seizing Felix’s hand in both his, and shaking it with vigour. He then turned to the Major. “And Major Vernon. A great honour.”

  “The honour is ours, sir,” said Major Vernon. “And thank you for allowing us to come and –”

  “What else could be done?” said Colonel Parham. “What else? Exceptional circumstances demand exceptional remedies.” He sighed and turned back to Felix. “It really is good of you to come, Mr Carswell. In your shoes – well, I don’t know what I would have thought! Please do come in.”

  They went into the great flagged hall, and Felix glanced about him, irresistibly reminded of the scenes that had passed there – his own ghosts, he supposed he might term them, and could not help frowning. He had meant to be indifferent but he could not quite manage it.

  “Dinner will be served shortly,” said the Colonel. “Mostyn will show you to your rooms,” he added, indicating a manservant who stood in the hall. “There is no need to dress. My wife is not here. In fact, we have been the only souls here – Mostyn and I – for some days now. My wife could not bear it, nor the children. And of course the servants...” he added with a shake of his head.

  They followed Mostyn upstairs. Felix found he had been put in the room his parents had occupied, not the great tapestried bed chamber as before. No one was expecting him to play master of the house this time.

  “It is a shame the others have all gone away,” said Major Vernon, meeting him on the landing a few minutes later. “It would have been good to hear their accounts.”

  “So you can pick them all to pieces?” Felix said.

  “I thought we decided to keep an open mind,” Major Vernon said. “I have met plenty of people – intelligent, sensible souls – who are entirely convinced by what they have experienced.”

  “That’s true,” said Felix. “My mother, for one.”

  “Quite,” said Major Vernon. “So let us hear what he has to say and then make our judgement.”

  They went down to the dining room.

  The Colonel received them warmly and they sat down to a substantial dinner, all laid out on the table at once, in the old-fashioned style.

  “I apologise for the plainness of the fare,” said the Colonel. “Mostyn is no French chef.”

  “Still, he seems to be very handy in the kitchen,” said Major Vernon. “This is excellent. You are lucky he has strong nerves. It would be a shame to be deserted by him, I think.”

  “Mostyn would never desert me,” said the Colonel. “He has been with me since I was a Captain in the Eleventh. We have been through thick and thin together.”

  “And what would you say this business was,” Felix could not help enquiring. “Thick or thin?”

  “You are sceptical, sir, of course,” said the Colonel, “but I tell you now, I should not have dreamt of disturbing your affairs had not –” He broke off for a long swallow of claret. “Believe me, I have been struggling with this! This business is so – uncanny!”
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  He gave a slight shudder, refilled his glass and pushed the decanter towards Felix, as if to imply he would need it for courage. Felix took some, and another helping of the excellent kidney fricassee that had been placed on the corner of the table between him and the Major.

  “Perhaps we should start at the beginning,” Major Vernon said. “Your letter said that these events only began three weeks or so ago.”

  “March the fifteenth,” said the Colonel. “I made a note in my memorandum book merely because it felt like a curiosity. A trick of the light.”

  “And that was?” Major Vernon said.

  “I was coming back from some rough shooting. It was about four. The light was fading, but it was still not dark. I was coming down the lime walk, with the dogs, Hector and Hero. All of a sudden Hero started barking, becoming very agitated, and at the same time, I saw a figure in a black cloak standing in front of the house. I supposed, of course, that it was a visitor, so I quickened my steps to go and enquire, and then suddenly there was no one there and I was left scratching my head!”

  “So you decided it was a trick of the light?” said Felix.

  “Yes, at least in the first instance. But then Hero went running up to where the figure had been and went sniffing around as if she smelt something.”

  “Only the one dog?” said Major Vernon.

  “Hector is old, and has a rheumy eye,” said the Colonel. “Mostyn, you can clear the cloth now.”

  Port, half a Northminster blue cheese and walnuts replaced the claret and the dirty dishes.

  “These walnuts are from your own orchard, Mr Carswell,” said Colonel Parham. “Quite a remarkable crop.”

  “I’m glad to hear it,” said Felix.

  “My wife has never been happier than in that garden,” said the Colonel. “It is a great shame but I had to send her away. Her nerves were torn to shreds. She has always been delicate, but this –”

  “Is she far away?” said Major Vernon.

  “At the seaside. I thought that best for all of them. Are you in favour of the sea, Mr Carswell?” said the Colonel.

  “As a cure?” Felix said. “It depends on the case. But it will be good for your children, whatever.”

  “I thought so,” he said, passing the decanter of port to Major Vernon.

  Major Vernon took his usual scant glass and passed it on to Felix.

  “So the dog’s behaviour made you wonder at what you had seen?” Major Vernon asked.

  “It did,” said the Colonel. “But I thought very little of it until the following day. It was then that my wife told me that one of the maids had given notice because on several occasions she’d seen a black figure in the upstairs passageway going towards the linen room, which then simply vanished before her eyes. It had made her too afraid to sleep, so she wanted to be let go.”

  “Did you talk to the girl?” said Major Vernon.

  The Colonel shook his head. “She’d already gone. And my wife had not wanted to mention it because it had frightened her, and she did not wish me to know. But when I asked where the girl was, she had to tell me. She confessed that the story had felt like a cold hand touching her heart. And that was only the beginning. It was that night that it began with the bedclothes.”

  “Yes?” said the Major.

  “We were sleeping at that time in the large room with the green bed-hangings and the tapestries.”

  “Where I slept last summer,” said Felix.

  “Well, I do not advise that you sleep there now. It is impossible to get a night’s sleep. There is something there that does not wish anyone to sleep.”

  “What happened that first night?” Major Vernon asked.

  “It was most curious. My wife and her maid went in first. I was still downstairs, and they were very surprised to find the bedclothes all disarranged, as if someone had been lying abed. My wife’s maid had only been in there five minutes previously to make up the fire, and had naturally left it all in perfect order.”

  “And you are certain no one else had been in there?” said Major Vernon. “Or that the maid was not making an excuse for forgetting to make the bed?”

  “It is unlikely. She is a steady character. She was angry that someone had undone her work. We did not come to any explanation as to why it happened, but we tried to imagine some natural cause. It would not have been so significant if it had not happened every night for a week – always the same, and then with added touches of disorder. There were ashes on the hearth, and the fire smouldering, there were vases overturned, and books lying as if they were thrown across the room in fury, and clothes tossed about and so forth. Poor Betty was reduced to tears by it – she takes a great pride in her work, but it was as if a demon was tearing through the room. And of course when all the other servants heard of it, there was no keeping the matter secret. And then on the eighth night, after the room had been particularly thrown around, we said our prayers, got into bed, and put out the candle only to have the bed-clothes stolen from us repeatedly. After that we quit the room, and I have locked it.”

  “Could you elaborate on that, sir?” said Major Vernon. “The clothes stolen from you?”

  “Exactly as I said. They were pulled from us. It happened four or five times that night. It was as if someone were in the room and stripping the bed while we lay in it. My poor wife – she was almost insensible with fear, and I am not ashamed to admit I was shaking through and through. I have never experienced anything like it!”

  “It is such a shame your wife was not well enough to stay here,” said Major Vernon. “I should very much like to hear her account of it. Where was it you said she had gone? Swalecliffe, I think you said, did you not?”

  “I should very much prefer that she was not disturbed,” said the Colonel. “It has been distressing for her.”

  “Of course,” said Major Vernon. “I quite understand.”

  “So no one has been back in there since?” Felix asked.

  “No,” said the Colonel.

  “And was there anything else?” he asked.

  “Yes,” said the Colonel. “There were bursts of clattering and banging in the room above the night nursery, as if furniture were being moved about. It woke the children and their nurse, and my wife, because she went to sleep in there with them, on the second night it occurred, because they were afraid. It was only observed on two nights, because after that I decided to send them away. I have not heard that for myself, however, although I have slept in there myself after they had gone, just to see.”

  “And no one sleeps or uses the room above?”

  “No, it is just lumber in there. I asked all the servants particularly about it, but it was after they had gone to bed. It was most peculiar.”

  “So that was the last thing that occurred?” said Major Vernon.

  “I saw the figure again,” the Colonel said after a moment, “the day after my wife and children left. Three days ago now.”

  “In the same place?”

  “No, in the house. On the main landing, somewhat near the door to the tapestry bedroom. And as before, I saw it, and it vanished. I had the idea it was a woman, very slight, wrapped in black. It was only for a moment that I saw her.”

  “What time of day was it?” asked Major Vernon.

  “Late afternoon. I was about to go into the library. It was perhaps just from the corner of my eye, but I did see her and I felt that same coldness grip me. I was very glad to get to a fireside.”

  “And nothing since?”

  “No, thank God.”

  Felix drained his glass and refilled it with port, which was quite delicious. He drank and tried to make sense of this extraordinary account. He was aware that Major Vernon was watching the Colonel carefully, and that the Colonel was aware of his scrutiny. He doubtless expected it. Even if he was telling the truth he would surely expect to have his word questioned simply because of the fantastical nature of what he had just told them.

  “Did Mostyn see anything?” Major Vernon asked
after a moment.

  “Not that I am aware of. Apart from seeing the room after it had been disturbed, of course.”

  “It is all very strange,” said Major Vernon.

  “I never believed that such things were possible,” said the Colonel getting up from the table. “Never. And yet – if you will just excuse me for a moment, gentlemen,” he added, and left the room.

  The door closed behind him and Felix said, “So?”

  The Major did not answer for a moment; he appeared to be studying the candle flame.

  “It is a good tale,” said Felix.

  “Yes, rather too good, don’t you think?” said Major Vernon.

  “You think he is lying?”

  “We only have his word for any of this at this point. I find it hard to believe him without corroboration. He may be mistaken in what he saw, or deliberately lying, though I would hesitate to say the later. But that is the nature of our business. We can never believe anyone is telling the truth.”

  “Quite,” said Felix, swallowing down his port.

  “However,” Major Vernon said, “there may yet be corroboration. Who knows what will happen tonight?”

  “Anything or nothing,” said Felix pouring another glass of port.

  “I am going to propose to the Colonel that we spend the night in the tapestry room,” said Major Vernon, getting up and leaving the room.

  Felix was left with his wine, wondering if it could possibly be a lie. Would a man ever make up such a preposterous tale and expect to be believed, especially a man like Colonel Parham? Surely he would have made it less extreme if he were attempting to dupe them in some way?

  He took another glass and found himself picturing a woman in a black cloak, noiselessly walking the creaking passageways of the ancient house. A slender woman, a shadow creature who then vanished without trace before one’s eyes. One of the Ardens, he supposed – there always were such stories in old families, the sort that made for excellent fireside tales on winter nights. Was she an unhappy daughter or a mad bride? Perhaps the latter, throwing about the contents of her bridal chamber, desperate to escape. Perhaps like the Bride of Lammermoor, she had even stabbed her husband on their wedding night.

  He took a long drink of wine, relishing the richness of the taste, feeling its effects steal over him, like a warm embrace. He felt drowsy and curiously at ease. He pushed back his chair and gazed into the fire which was burning brightly. How fascinating were the intricate patterns and myriad of unusual colours formed by the long licking flames! He did not think he had ever seen such a colourful fire before. It was, he knew on some level, odd and therefore striking, yet he was not unduly disturbed by that strangeness. He accepted it quite as it was and enjoyed it.