Haunting Secrets (6 page)

She shook off the thought and settled deeper into her bed, forcing herself to relax. Her eyelids grew heavy and cuddling her knees onto her stomach, she curled on her side. She closed her eyes and willed herself to fall asleep.

From outside the night’s sounds crept into her room. The hoot of an owl. The branches scratching against the window with the rhythm of the wind.

And the howling of a wolf.

She opened her eyes. The animal was now outside. Nothing made sense anymore.

Bits of the conversation she had with her maid came back to her. Could there really be a cursed white wolf that roamed the grounds? Could he be looking for another woman to kill tonight?

Shivering, she bundled the covers closer around her body. She silently cursed her wayward thoughts. From now on, she would instruct Francine to keep her old wives’ tales to herself. Victoria wouldn’t listen to them any longer.

* * * *

Victoria scooped her eggs onto her fork and glanced around the breakfast table. Directly in front of her sat Bethany. A frown marred the woman’s face as she stared at her full plate of food. Down at the end of the table, Roderick ate heartily as if he didn’t have a care in the world. When the couple did speak to each other, their remarks were snide. Quite different from the way they’d acted the day Victoria had arrived. If she hadn’t heard their fight on the stairs last night or witnessed Roderick and the maid, Victoria wouldn’t have thought anything was amiss.

They’d told her previously that Jonathan was out on his normal morning ride. That didn’t bother her, but the silence from her hosts did. Victoria didn’t expect them to keep her entertained every moment of the day, but so far they had hardly spoken to her.

She sipped her tea before setting it down. Clearing her throat, she received her hosts’ attention. “I want to thank you again for allowing me to stay. My room and the hospitality you have shown me is more than I expected.”

Roderick nodded and sipped his coffee. “It is our pleasure, Miss Fawson.”

She dabbed her mouth with the linen napkin. “I was surprised to hear howling last night. I didn’t know there were wolves around this area.”

Both Bethany and Roderick froze, and their gazes clung to each other’s. Bethany’s eyes were wide, and Roderick’s face blanched.

Victoria held her breath. Her heartbeat picked up rhythm as the seconds crept by, waiting for their explanation.

Finally, Bethany squared her shoulders and met Victoria’s gaze. The older woman offered a smile that looked forced.

“You heard a howl? How intriguing. I don’t believe I’ve heard a wolf in quite a while.”

“So there was a wolf?” Victoria asked.

Roderick put down his coffee cup, his shaky hand making the delicate china rattle against the saucer. “I cannot explain it, Miss Fawson. I don’t know how it came to be, and it’s a little frightening, but there is a wolf that wanders the land. Usually when we hear him, someone is killed in the village.”

“Killed?” she whispered.

“Yes. The legend says a great white wolf roams the land in search of his next sacrifice.”

Victoria sighed, letting the fear disappear. It was hard to believe there was another person believing in this so-called legend. If she heard another story, she’d scream. “I believe I’ve heard this tale.”

“Victoria, my dear,” Bethany said in hushed tones, “don’t take this lightly. If you fear for your safety, just as we all do, you must remain indoors at night.”

“So this fierce animal only comes out at night to kill?”

“Yes,” her hosts said in unison.

“Has nobody dared to capture him?”

Bethany flipped her hand. “They cannot. It has been said that he’s a cursed animal.”

Victoria fought the urge to roll her eyes. What was wrong with these people? “Cursed, you say? How so?”

“Nobody knows,” Roderick answered. “Men have tried to hunt him, but they were wounded themselves. They vowed they would never hunt again.”

“So those who live here are in fear of their lives? That doesn’t make sense to me.” Victoria set her napkin across her plate and leaned back in the chair.

“How long have you lived in this area, Victoria?” Bethany asked.

“My father moved us to Surrey when I was ten. A year ago when he died, I went to live with my uncle in Lynton.”

Roderick shook his head. “And not one person has told you about the white wolf?”

“Not until I arrived at Maitland Manor.”

Bethany chuckled. “Then I fear your father and uncle have sheltered you from the truth.”

“Not to worry, Miss Fawson.” Roderick held his coffee cup to his mouth. “If you heed our advice and stay inside at night, you shall be protected.”

Victoria was about to refute them about her sheltered life, but down the hall, the front door slammed with a resounding boom. A commotion of loud voices rose and grew louder. Bethany and Roderick jumped from their chairs and ran into the hall.

The hysteria voices grew louder. A woman wailed. Men’s angry tones demanded justice.

Bewildered, Victoria pushed away from the table and stood. As she hurried toward her hosts, the voices became clearer. Jonathan’s voice overpowered them all.

“She’s dead,” Jonathan exclaimed as he looked at Roderick. “Killed by the wolf.”

Jonathan stood with a group of estate servants, one of whom sported blood spots on his apron and hands. Victoria guessed him to be the butcher. Next to him, Mrs. White sobbed into her hands.

“Who is dead?” Bethany asked.

“Sarah. She helps in the kitchen,” Mrs. White answered sadly.

Victoria swallowed hard. “Are you certain it was the wolf?”

“Mrs. White saw her.” Jonathan’s voice shook. “Sarah’s throat had been ripped open and her face shredded by claw marks.”

“Good heavens, man, mind your tongue. There are ladies present.” Roderick mumbled a curse and raked his fingers through his hair. Bethany blinked, tears pooling in her eyes.

Victoria didn’t dare speak. She didn’t know these people, but she felt their loss.

Jonathan lifted his head and looked directly at her, his face etched with worry lines. Taking three strides, he stopped in front of her. He took her hands in his and squeezed.

“Are you all right?”

She offered a weak smile. “I should be asking you that.” She glanced to his servants, then back to him. “What can I do to help?”

He shook his head. “There’s nothing to be done, my sweet. The white wolf has come out of hiding again. We all know he’ll disappear for a few months before he strikes again.”

Fear lodged itself in Victoria’s chest, an emotion she didn’t welcome. She shouldn’t be here, yet she couldn’t leave the manor now. Not until she found some answers. Somehow she had to stay regardless. “Do—do you think I should return home?”

He frowned. “Is that what you wish?”

“No. I would very much like to stay.”

“I’d like that, too.” He brought her hands up to his mouth and kissed her knuckles.

“Is there anything I can do to assist now?”

Jonathan glanced over his shoulder at the mournful servants. “No. My brother and sister-in-law will take care of things here.” With one hand under her elbow, he led her down the hall toward the drawing room. “I’d very much like to take you for a carriage ride shortly.” He bowed. “If you will excuse me, I’ll change before we leave.”

“A ride so soon after a servant’s death? Don’t you fear for our safety?”

“We know the white wolf’s pattern. He has gone back into hiding. We’ll be safe for a while, I assure you.” He shrugged. “Besides, he only comes out at night.”

“Very well. I’ll instruct my maid to get our things ready.”

“Your maid?” His brows lifted.

“But of course, unless you know someone else who might serve as a proper chaperone?”

He smiled. “Your maid is fine.”

When Jonathan left, Victoria hurried toward her own room, hoping to find Francine. Victoria looked forward to the ride with Jonathan. There were so many questions she had. Only he could answer them for her since Justin was dead. She didn’t trust Roderick or Bethany.

After checking her room, she stepped down the hall to Francine’s room and knocked. Her maid opened the door almost immediately.

“Oh, good. You’re here. I need your assistance. Jonathan is taking me for a buggy ride soon, and you’ll have to be my chaperone.”

Francine’s eyes widened. “Indeed? How exciting. Let me tell Mrs. White. I fear she has me loaded with duties today.”

“Hurry. I don’t want anything to stop us from going.”

“Before we leave, I must tell you something I’ve discovered.” Francine glanced up and down the hallway. “Did you know your friend, Mademoiselle Hartley, came here to court Jonathan a couple of months ago?”

Victoria gasped and clung to her maid’s arm. “Amelia came here? Are you certain?”

“Mrs. White told me about the other women who came to the manor to court Jonathan, and she said Amelia’s name.”

Confusion swam in Victoria’s mind. Amelia hadn’t told her anything. Then again, Victoria’s uncle wouldn’t let her visit any of her friends on a regular basis. “Whatever happened to her?”

“All Mrs. White said was that the ghost must have scared her away, because she disappeared after only one day.”

“Scared by the rumors, or scared when he appeared in her room wearing a black robe?”

“What? I don’t understand what you’re talking about.”

Perhaps this particular
ghost
frightened women away all the time. “Francine, this is something I’m going to think about later. Hurry with your errand and meet me downstairs in the main hall.”

Francine nodded, and then left. Although the information about Amelia weighed heavily on Victoria’s mind, she put it aside for now. Her father came first.

Within the last few weeks before her father’s death, his words and actions led her here to Maitland Manor. He’d talked quite a bit about Justin and what a wonderful, caring and giving man he was, hinting to her that Justin would make any woman a fine husband. She wondered if her father had been trying to play matchmaker.

She sighed heavily and frowned. If only Justin was still alive. If only she could talk to him and perhaps discover why someone would want to kill her father.

Pausing on the way to the stairs, a thought came back to her. Justin’s room had been up here. What were the odds she could find it—and would it hold any answers? Maybe there was something in there that might give a clue to what kind of person he was.

On tiptoes she retreated, creeping to the second hallway where she knew Roderick and Bethany’s chambers were located. At each door she pressed her ear to the solid wood, listening for any movements inside before she opened and looked in.

Finally, the third door on her left led her into a man’s room. She could tell immediately it wasn’t Jonathan’s, mainly because of the musty odor that hung thick in the air. The curtains had been pulled open, thankfully, so she didn’t need to light a lamp.

The chamber resembled hers, except for its masculine decorations. The colors were more dark brown, blue, and black. She stepped softly to the armoires, three side-by-side. When she opened the first one, she gasped at the many tailored shirts and vests that lined the rack. This man obviously knew how to dress to flaunt his wealth. Gingerly, she touched a cravat, rubbing the satin between her finger and thumb.

She closed the doors and approached a dressing table. Combs, razors and leather straps sat neatly in a row. They were well-polished for a man who’d been dead over a year. Strange, but she received the impression this was an unused room.

Quickly, she glanced around, looking for anything that might have been her father’s. Paintings, like the ones she saw downstairs on her first day, hung on the walls. Like those downstairs, no name graced the bottom, although they were beautifully painted with bright colors and strong brush strokes. The artist had made good use of light, too.

The desk in the corner of the room drew her attention, also free of dust and cobwebs. As quiet as she could, she pulled out a drawer, quickly peeking inside before closing it. The bottom drawer was harder to open, so she tugged until it gave way. With a thud, she fell back on her bottom.

Holding her breath, she listened to see if she had alerted anyone. After a few silent minutes passed, she was able to heave a sigh of relief.

She shouldn’t be in here, anyway. She’d been gone too long.

Just as she placed her hands on the drawer to close it, a group of letters all tied together with a red ribbon caught her eye. In very precise writing across the top of the first, was the name Roderick and Bethany’s names.

Curious, she carefully pulled out the letter from the tie and opened it.

“As of today, August 26, 1879, I’m taking control over my household. Roderick, in my absence, you and your scheming wife have run my affairs into the ground. I’m not pleased with the money you two have been pilfering from me, and so you leave me no choice but to cut you from my estate, and from my inheritance. If you haven’t moved out of my house by the end of the week, I’ll have the constable come and escort you out personally. I do bid both of you well in your new life.  Justin Maitland”

Victoria realized her mouth hung open, so she snapped it closed. How very interesting.

Thoughts swam in her head as she replaced the letter. Was the fire that caused his death an accident?

A noise from down the hall brought her out of her thoughts. Her heart banged against her ribs and she prayed she wouldn’t get caught snooping. She hurried to the door and listened closely. When the corridor became silent again, she opened the door carefully and peeked out. Praying no one would catch her, she rushed out and down the hall. Hopefully, Jonathan wasn’t waiting for her.

The drawing room remained empty. Breathing deeply, she tried to control her shaky nerves. She grinned. Being adventurous always came with the rush of excitement of getting caught.

She glided toward the fireplace, the words of the letter playing in her mind. She thought back on the family residing here and the misplaced actions she’d noticed about them. The events of her stay had thus far felt like fiction, as if the horror unfolded from a book. Nothing seemed real, especially the visitor of last night…or the wolf attack.