Lord Melvedere's Ghost (10 page)

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Authors: Rebecca King

Tags: #romance, #romantic suspense, #thriller, #suspense, #mystery, #historical fiction, #historical romance, #romantic mystery, #historical mystery

BOOK: Lord Melvedere's Ghost
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So how
had Doreen gotten into the room this morning?

When
Cecily had opened her eyes, Doreen had been busy moving around the
room with the table and chair well away from the doorway. So, how
had Doreen moved them from outside of the room?

Her
blood turned to ice and her fingers began to tremble as she
remembered the strange scenario with the door. Quickly dragging on
her clothing, she ignored the clinging of the wet material and
moved to study the doorway carefully. Opening it and closing it
several times confirmed that the knob turned effortlessly, and
clicked the catch into place adequately enough to close the door
properly and secure it. Frowning deeply, she tried to come up with
an explanation for the strange events, but was at a loss. She
opened the door once more and almost screamed at the sight of
Doreen standing on the other side of the threshold.

Closing
her eyes, she heaved a sigh and stood back to allow the curious
maid into the room.


What is it? Are you alright, ma’am?”

Cecily
laughed shakily and nodded. “Just my wayward imagination,” she
sighed, eyeing the bedding the maid was carrying.


The master said I could show you around,” Doreen replied with
a smile of satisfaction as they tugged the last of the covers over
the bed once Cecily was dressed. “Seeing as we are upstairs, I will
show you the top floor and then we can work out way down. Melvedere
looks a bit confusing at first glance, but it is really easy to
find your way around once you get your bearings.”


Wonderful,” Cecily replied, glad to be getting out of the room
at last. Although it was a fine, elegant room that was full of
luxurious comfort, she was looking forward to seeing what else
Melvedere had to offer, and meeting the rest of the residents and
staff.

They
moved rapidly down the rather nondescript upper corridor toward a
small door at the far end.


This takes you up to the tower,” Doreen announced, pushing the
door open and moving into the circular staircase. “It takes you up
to the old servants’ quarters. It is mostly used for storage these
days, and has fallen into a bit of disrepair, but I will show you
up here anyway.”

Cecily
wandered between the long row of doors on the upper floor,
listening to the winds howling through the eaves. The contrast
between the cob-webbed walls, and peeling paint was stark against
the lavish, brightly decorated guest room she was in. She wondered
why Jamie had never bothered to maintain it properly. It seemed a
shame that so much space, so many rooms, remained barren and
empty.

It is none of your business really,
Cecily reminded herself, closing the door at the far end of
the corridor with a sigh of relief. The air was stuffy and dank,
and held a faint scent of mustiness that made her think of the
stuffed animals on her father’s study wall. With a shiver she
turned away from the upper floor, glad to be able to move away from
it.


We are now at the far end of the second floor, in the west
wing.” Doreen pointed out of the side window. “That is the driveway
you came down last night. The stables are over there and the rose
gardens alongside it. There are mostly guest rooms on this side of
the house, eight of them in total, and the master’s suite of rooms
is on the other side. In the olden days, these rooms were used by
the lady of the house, but they were converted into guest rooms by
the old master before he passed.”

Cecily
glanced around at the austere elegance. Tiny flowers randomly
dotted the wallpaper giving the room a cheery yet homely feel. The
dark, yet highly polished furniture and bright draperies were
delightful and bespoke of an understated wealth that was welcoming
rather than forbidding.

Each
room they passed through had a different colour scheme and,
unsurprisingly, each room was called after the colour scheme
within. The blue room, the rose room, the yellow room were all very
much alike except for the colour. Highly polished windows gleamed
in the early afternoon sunshine and gave a clear view of the
emerald greenery that seemed to surround the vast
property.

Cecily
suddenly longed to be outside, breathing in the gusty winds and
bathing in the glorious sunshine. She didn’t know what it was about
the house but something left her feeling slightly off-kilter.
Although each room was rather nondescript yet elegant, she couldn’t
quite shake of the feeling that she was being watched. As though
someone was expecting something, only she didn’t know what, or
who.

Shaking
her head at her own wayward imagination, Cecily hurried after
Doreen, oblivious to the long empty corridor behind her and the
growing chill that permeated the still air. She barely glanced at
the door to the master’s suite as they passed. Doreen made no
attempt to show Cecily inside, and Cecily made no request to see
the room, hurrying behind the maid as they descended the huge stone
staircase.

They
swept through the cavernous hallway, lined from floor to huge,
domed ceiling, with portraits of long passed relatives of varying
ages.

The
morning room was a large, curious mix of landscapes, mirrors,
ornately carved furniture interspersed with hand embroidered
cushions, richly woven curtains and a vast array of delicate
porcelain ornaments. It was definitely a ladies’ room. The spindly
chairs were designed for elegance rather than comfort, and spoke of
a quiet grace that made one feel immediately calm and at ease in
such a splendid environment. Cecily glanced longingly at the
thickly padded window seat and made a mental note to come back with
a book at some point before following Doreen across the hallway to
the sitting room. Equally as lavish, the leather seats were
slightly scuffed at the edges showing the daily wear of a room well
used. The shabby rug before the hearth held a huge black Labrador
who was snoring loudly, and whose greeting was no more energetic
than a slight thumping of his tail.


That’s Basil. Don’t worry about him,” Doreen declared, nodding
in disgust at the canine before moving toward the hearth, picking
up the fire tongues and moving the dog’s tail away from the flames
with a huff. “Bone idle, he is. I don’t know why the master bothers
with him.”

Cecily
stared down at the huge brown eyes and melted. Kneeling on the
floor beside him, she began to stroke his smooth, glossy coat and
held her hand out for the animal to sniff. Friends made, she pushed
to her feet and walked toward Doreen, who was clearly waiting to
complete the tour.


This room is the study,” Doreen nodded to the huge wooden door
as they passed but made no attempt to enter the room. “It’s busy at
the moment, so we can’t go in.”

As she
passed, Cecily was certain that she could hear Jamie’s voice from
deep within, and wondered whether he was talking to Jonathan about
what had happened over the past few days. She frowned at the door
as she walked past, and wondered if she should knock and enter
anyway. Despite Doreen’s declaration the master wasn’t to be
disturbed, she should be included in any discussions to do with her
sister and Archie, shouldn’t she?

But,
she warned herself,
if they were talking Star Elite business, then it
had nothing to do with her and it would just be really
awkward.

Cecily
sighed, and followed Doreen through the next door along.


This is the library,” Doreen announced, waving an arm grandly
toward the huge expanse of room beyond the threshold.

From
floor to ceiling, on each wall, there were books, thousands and
thousands of them lined in neat rows. Awestruck, Cecily tried to
keep her mouth closed as she walked into the room and moved in a
slow circle while she studied the vast display before her. She was
so engrossed in studying the various colours of the tomes that she
didn’t notice the sporadically dotted easy chairs here and there,
and jumped when her bottom nudged against one of them.

Snapping
out of her daze, she turned in amazement toward a smug looking
Doreen.


It’s amazing isn’t it?”


I have never seen anything like it,” Cecily whispered, feeling
awestruck.


This is Miss Emstridge,” Doreen muttered, all joviality
leaving her face. Cecily glanced at the maid, surprised in the
sudden change of her demeanour.

Turning
around, her gaze landed on the bespectacled, bird-like lady seated
behind a desk in between numerous towers of haphazardly stacked
books, several piles of parchment, numerous quills, and one large
inkpot.


Miss Emstridge is here to catalogue the books, although it is
taking slightly longer than it ought.” The last few words were
emphasised rather strongly, leaving Cecily curious as to the cause
of the clear antagonism between the two women.

Deciding
that it really was none of her business, Cecily smiled brightly the
narrow face of the curious Miss Emstridge, and moved
forward.


My name is Cecily,” she announced only to hesitate at the
narrow eyed glare the woman gave her.


Quite.”

Cecily
fought the urge to squirm under the beady eyed gaze and glanced
across at Doreen.


Let’s move on, shall we?” the maid asked, shooting Miss
Emstridge a filthy glare.

Taking
the woman’s rudeness for bad manners, Cecily made no further
attempt at conversation and silently followed Doreen out of the
room.


Don’t mind her. She is rude and rather uncommunicative at the
best of times but always has been. The old master set her on about
five years ago to take stock of the books in his possession, but
she seems to have taken it as an open invitation to stay as long as
she can. The cataloguing never seems to be complete and, as far as
I know, the master has never seen the so-called lists she is
supposedly creating,” Doreen murmured quietly as they headed
through a door at the end of yet another corridor, and entered what
appeared to be the servants’ area.

The
housekeeper’s quarters were largely ignored. The highly polished
door was clearly emblazoned with the word PRIVATE, and was merely
nodded at as they passed. Doreen remarked that it was hallowed
ground, and somewhere that the servants didn’t go near because it
was Mrs Nantwich’s private space. Cecily couldn’t really see any
need to go anywhere near the housekeeper’s quarters, and merely
glanced at the door as they walked toward the rear of the
house.

Unlike
her preconceived notions of large houses, the back of the house was
freshly decorated, clean and tidy and well furnished. Clearly Jamie
looked after his staff, and they appreciated his generosity by
looking after their surroundings the dedication and care of long
standing members of the household who really wanted to be in their
place of work.

Before
they approached the door, Cecily could hear the most angelic
singing accompanying the busy clatter of pots and pans. Her stomach
flipped nervously as she followed Doreen into the large room. She
had no sooner crossed the threshold than she became acutely aware
of the curious glances the three occupants gave her. The man seated
at the table dropped the boot he was polishing and pushed to his
feet, lunging for his jacket, which he hastily began to drag
on.


Please, don’t bother on my account,” Cecily gasped awkwardly,
shaking her head apologetically at him before turning toward the
rather robust lady who approached with a broad smile of welcome on
her face. The lady was tall and grey haired, and clearly sang as
well as she cooked.


Ma’am, a top of the day to you and that’s a fact,” she
chirruped in a heavy Irish voice.


Pleased to meet you. What beautiful singing,” Cecily replied,
glancing at the third occupant of the room, a girl in her mid
twenties, who continued chopping vegetables at the table while
smiling at them gamely.


We like to keep ourselves occupied, my dear,” Mrs Nantwich
declared, dropping a heavy, steaming pan on the table. “Put them in
there, Sophie, my girl.”

Cecily
smiled at the girl.


This here is Potter, the groomsman and groundsman, and this
young lady here is Sophie, the upstairs maid and kitchen maid. We
all muck-in around here, so don’t hesitate to ask any one of us if
you ever need anything.”


Oh, I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself. I don’t
mind, really,” Cecily replied, watching Potter resume his seat
awkwardly. Mrs Nantwich studied her carefully for several moments
before shaking her head.


We are just about sorted out for now, but your offer is most
kind. You are a guest in the house and we will start as we mean to
go on, if that is alright. If you need anything just ring and we
will be there as quickly as we can.”

Cecily
frowned, unsure what Mrs Nantwich had seen in her that had put her
off accepting her help. It made her feel uncomfortable to think
that the serving staff didn’t consider her someone who could take
care of herself.


I am only here as a temporary guest, and will be on my way
shortly, I am certain of it. Meantime though, I am used to working
as I used to take care of my father, so I would prefer to be kept
busy. Is there anything I can do now?” Cecily tried to keep her
tone affable but sighed in frustration when Mrs Nantwich shook her
head, a mutinous look on her face.

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