Gather the Bones (33 page)

Lady Hartfield looked aghast. “Oh. That won’t do at all. You will have to ask Paul. He’s the head of the Morrow family. You’re his responsibility.”

Helen stared at the Viscountess. “Paul? But I...”

“I was going to ask Paul to be my best man,” Tony said. “Which reminds me, Helen, he told me yesterday he’s got another contract to go out to Mesopotamia over winter so if we want him at the wedding, it will have to be early autumn or wait until he’s back in the spring.”

If he comes back
, Helen thought. Beneath the table her fingers twisted her wedding ring. Tony had shown her an engagement ring, a family piece with an emerald the size of a pigeon egg. She had closed the lid of the box and told him to give it to her when the moment was right She wondered when the moment would be.

Lady Hartfield made a moue of annoyance. “Someone has to give Helen away and it must be Paul. You’ll have to find someone else, Anthony. What about James Massey?”

“Anyone but him,” Helen exclaimed and put her hand to her mouth realizing the words had come out before she had thought about them.

Lady Hartfield stared at Helen. “What on earth do you have against James? He was a great friend of Charlie’s, wasn’t he Tony?”

Tony cast a quick glance at Helen and set down the papers. “Ma, let’s get one thing straight. We just want a quiet wedding in the chapel here. No fuss.”

“But darling, you’re the heir. I thought a London wedding–” Lady Hartfield looked nonplussed.

“No,” Tony said. “A quiet wedding, just family and a few close friends of our own choosing.”

“But people will think you have something to hide,” Lady Hartfield protested.

“Let people think what they want,” Tony said. “A quiet wedding at Wellmore. That’s it.”

Helen gave him a look of sheer relief. They hadn’t discussed any of this, but somehow he had sensed her discomfort and guessed, correctly, what her thoughts on the subject would be. Paul was right, Tony was a good and honorable man.

Lady Hartfield sniffed. “If you would care to start thinking about an invitation list, I shall see what can be done.”

The butler entered the room. “Telephone for Mrs. Morrow,” he announced.

“Who is it?” Helen said.

“Holdston Hall,” the man said.

Helen bundled up her napkin and excused herself.

“Mrs. Morrow?” A woman’s voice was at the end of the line. “It’s Sarah Pollard here.”

Helen heard the edge in Sarah’s tone and felt her spine tingle. “Sarah, what’s happened?”

“There’s been an accident,” Sarah said.

Helen felt her heart leap to her throat. “Paul?”

“No. It’s her ladyship,” Sarah said.

“What happened?”

“She fell down the library stairs. She must have lain there all night, poor lady. I found her this morning when I took her breakfast up.”

“Is she all right?”

“She’s in hospital. Still unconscious. Doctors don’t know whether she’ll make it or not.”

“Oh Sarah, I am sorry.”

There was a long pause. “You’ve got to come back, Mrs. Morrow.”

“Sarah...I can’t...”

Sarah’s tone became desperate. “You’ve got to come. There’s something happening in this house. Whatever you started, you’ve got to finish.”

“I can’t, Sarah. I don’t belong there.”

“Helen, he needs you. He can’t do it without you.”

“What do you mean he needs me?”

“It will kill someone soon,” Sarah said, a note of hysteria rising in her voice. “If it hasn’t already.”

“Sarah, you’re not making any sense,” Helen said firmly. “Does Paul know you’ve rung me?”

“No. he’s at the hospital.”

Helen bit her lip, torn by indecision.

“Please, Mrs. Morrow... Helen.”

Helen heard the desperate note of pleading in Sarah’s voice. She looked at her watch.

“Very well, Sarah. I’ll be there by lunch time.

“Pollard’s taken the Major over to Birmingham with the car.”

“It’s all right. I will ask Mr. Scarvell to drive us over.”

“You’ll bring Miss Alice?”

“Of course I will.” She would not leave Alice alone at Wellmore with the viperous Lady Hartfield.

“I’ll have beds made up for you.”

Helen set the phone back on its bench and straightened. Back in the breakfast room, she faced the Scarvells.

“Lady Morrow has had an accident,” she said. “She’s in hospital.”

Lady Hartfield set down her napkin. “Oh dear. What sort of an accident?”

“I gather she had a fall down a flight of stairs.”

“That house is so unsafe,” the Viscountess said.

Helen looked at Tony. “Tony, would you be able to drive us over to Holdston?”

“Of course,” Tony rose to his feet.

“Will you be back for supper?” Lady Hartfield enquired as if she thought Helen would just be making a social visit.

Helen stared at the woman. “No, I shall be staying at Holdston, Lady Hartfield. For the time being, Lady Morrow is still my mother-in-law and I owe it to her to take some responsibility for Holdston while she is recuperating.”

“But you’re engaged to Tony...”

“Not officially,” Tony put in. “Of course you’re needed at Holdston, Helen. Just tell me when you’re ready to go and I’ll drive you over.”

Alice looked up with a grin. At least someone was happy.

* * * *

Even as the car turned in through the gate, it seemed to Helen that the atmosphere of the house had changed. It felt as if it had closed in on itself, the dark windows, brooding darkly in the sunlight.

Sarah waited at the courtyard gate and even as Helen stepped out of the car, the older woman ran across the bridge and threw her arms around her.

“I’m so glad you’ve come. The major’s still with her ladyship at the hospital but he rang to say he’ll be home this evening if there’s no change.”

Helen turned to Tony. “Thank you for the lift, Tony.”

He looked at her with concerned eyes. “Are you sure you don’t want me to stay?”

Helen shook her head. “No. It’s sweet of you but Alice and I are needed here for the moment. I’m sure you understand.”

Tony smiled. “I understand. Not sure Ma does though.”

Helen gave a rueful smile. “I don’t think it matters what I do, Tony, your mother will never understand me.”

“Give me a ring when you’ve got some news, old girl.” Tony turned the car with a wave of his hand.

“Mrs. Bryant sent a note around saying for Miss Alice to come and play with Lily at the vicarage,” Sarah said as they entered the house.

“May I?” Alice asked.

“Of course,” Helen said. “Go now. We’ll be fine here.”

Sarah hustled Helen into the kitchen and sat her down while she fussed around making tea. She set the large brown teapot before her, poured two cups of tea, and joined her at the table.

“Now you’ve got to tell me all that you know about these spirits,” Sarah said. “These last few months, I’ve been sensing them but they don’t let me see. What do they want?”

“You’re not saying the ghosts are behind what happened to Evelyn?”

“I don’t know what to think,” Sarah stirred her tea so hard it slopped into the saucer. “I just know there’s something not right in this house and we’ve got to fix it.”

 
The tea sat untouched as Helen related the story of Suzanna Morrow and her ill-starred love affair.

Sarah sat back, her face grave. “So you say there’s two of them?”

“Two that I’ve seen. Robert and Suzanna. I recognize them from the portraits.”

Sarah shook her head. “That can’t be right,” she said. “There’s more than two of ‘em.”

“What do you mean?”

“Like I told you before, there’s another one. I can’t tell you anything more. Can’t see it or hear it, but it’s a bad one.”

“What do you mean? You said ghosts can’t harm you.”

Sarah twisted her hands together. “I just know that Lady Morrow didn’t fall down those stairs by herself. There’s something strange in the library.” Her face twisted. “See for yourself.”

As it had begun to rain, rather than take the shortcut across the courtyard from the kitchen wing to the isolated corner of the house, which housed the library, Helen followed Sarah up the main stairs and through the house to the library stairs. As they descended the old, narrow staircase down which Evelyn had fallen, Helen shivered. Evelyn had been lucky not to break her neck.

Sarah flung back the door to the library and Helen gasped. The paintings of Robert and Suzanna lay face up in the middle of the floor, the canvas slashed with the accuracy of a sharp knife.

Helen picked up the ruined portrait of Suzanna and felt the temperature in the room plummet. An icy hand closed around her wrist. The same cruel, cold fingers that had tried to pull her into Evelyn’s room all those weeks ago. She dropped the painting and screamed.

“Are you all right?”

At the sound of Sarah’s voice, the icy grasp released and the temperature in the room rose.

Helen turned to face Sarah. “Did you sense it?”

Sarah nodded. “It’s the other one. It’s evil. Leave the paintings, Mrs. Morrow, and we’ll go back to the kitchen.”

After lunch, Alice returned from the Vicarage and helped Sarah and Helen prepare supper. In an attempt at normalcy, Sarah attempted to draw Helen on the subject of her engagement and the wedding but Helen cut her short.

As they set the kitchen table for supper, Sarah looked up. “There’s the car. I’d better get that soup on.”

The kitchen door opened and Paul entered. He stopped when he saw Helen.

“What are you doing here?”

Sarah turned around from the kitchen range. “I sent for her, sir.”

“You had no business doing so.”

“I had every business,” Sarah declared, brandishing her wooden spoon. “What’s happened to your aunt wasn’t an accident and I’m not pretending that everything in this house is fine. Ever since you got back from the war, it’s been building and Mrs. Morrow coming here just got it all rolling. Whatever it is, it’s up to you two to sort it out before anyone else gets hurt.”

Paul glared at Helen. “Nothing has happened. Evelyn had an accident that’s all.”

“How is she?” Helen ventured.

He ran a hand through his hair. “A fractured collarbone, broken ribs and a broken ankle and a bad blow to the head. She’s still unconscious and the doctors have no way of knowing when she will wake.”

“I’m sorry, Paul.”

His face remained expressionless. “Thank you for your concern and I’m sorry you had a wasted journey. Pollard can drive you back to Wellmore.”

Helen took a step toward him. “I’m not going, Paul. This is about Suzanna and Robert. I’ve seen the paintings in the library. You’re not telling me Evelyn did that. I’ll not leave until we have solved this mystery once and for all.”

“There’s no mystery.” Paul’s face was white with anger. “There are no ghosts, no mystery. Just a shell shocked soldier and a woman with an overactive imagination.” he turned to Sarah. “Two women with overactive imaginations. I want nothing more to do with this.”

“Paul, they are getting desperate. They’ve tripped Angela and now your aunt.”

“Angela? She stumbled on an uneven flag, nothing more. As for Evelyn, she fell down some stairs. It doesn’t mean she was pushed or there was some other paranormal explanation.”

“Don’t pretend they don’t exist, Paul. You know it was them or whatever this third one is. What was Evelyn doing on the library stairs in the middle of the night?”

“Maybe she wanted to get a book to read. I don’t know.” Paul glared at Helen. “What have you told Tony? I doubt he approves of you being here?”

Helen shook her head. “I told him what I knew. Evelyn had been involved in an accident and that Alice and I were needed here. Give us twenty-four hours, Paul. I’ve read the diary and I think we’re close, I just know we are.”

“Close to what, Helen?”

She thought she could hear a note of despair in his voice.

“Close to finding out what happened to Suzanna Morrow. I am now certain she never left this house. Someone killed her, someone hid her body and it’s here somewhere. We just have to find it. There will be no peace for any of us until her disappearance is solved.”

He looked at her and drew a breath but the defiance and fight had begun to fade from him. He ran his hand through his hair and turned away. “This is madness. I’m not solving one hundred year old mysteries.”

 
“Paul, you can’t suddenly pretend this is all our imagination and nothing more. You’ve seen them and what they can do. You saw the state of the library this morning. Whatever we’ve started, it is up to us to finish.”

His lips compressed, the green eyes blazing, he faced her. “Very well, Helen. Twenty-four hours but if we are no closer to solving this in that time that is it. I will never have it spoken of again.”