Christmas Ghosts at the Priory Page 5

  He strolled back to his own rooms and sat down to write two letters. The first would be sent by express to his grandfather explaining that in the circumstances he could not possibly leave until after the demise of his host. Of the ghosts he mentioned nothing at all – the fewer people knew about them the better. Although Grandfather had actually mentioned to him the Priory was haunted.

  A second letter would be sent to his factor. This man had earned the opportunity to take over an estate and run it for his own benefit. He had taken care of Penston with loyalty and dedication for the past twenty years. The fact that he had mentioned on more than one occasion that he had an interest in the supernatural would make him an ideal occupant for the haunted Priory. If anyone could tame these unpleasant spirits it was he.

  Eventually he stripped and tumbled into bed not bothering to put on his nightshirt. Usually he wore one when staying away from home but tonight he was too tired to bother with such niceties. Foster had instructions to bring his shaving water at seven o'clock.

  He had not expected to sleep so soundly but did not rouse until his valet started banging about in the dressing room. For a moment he was disorientated, not sure exactly where he was. Then he yawned, smiled and stretched.

  There was a third letter to be written before he broke his fast. This was to the physician who was taking care of his grandfather. The man had mentioned knowing an expert in the field of broken bones who had worked miracles even for those whose injury was several years old.

  If Eloise was prepared to endure such an agonising procedure then he would support her wholeheartedly. Equally, if she decided against it he would be even happier. As far as he was concerned it made no difference to him whether she had a limp or not, but he believed he knew her well enough to understand that being able to move about the place freely was incentive enough for her to wish to have her leg reset.

  Of course, it was possible she would not be a suitable candidate. Nevertheless, it made sense to set things in motion so when they finally returned to his home she could be seen immediately.

  'You won't be riding today, my lord, unless you want to be knee-deep in snow,' Foster told him.

  'Devil take it! It must have been snowing heavily all night for there to be so much. I thought it scarcely cold enough for snow.'

  'It's bitterly cold out there now, sir, no one will be going anywhere until it thaws. It's a blizzard outside and looks set in for a few days at least.'

  'I have three letters to go – they'll have to wait as will my ride. Is your accommodation satisfactory?'

  'Very, my lord. The upper servants have rooms downstairs and a private parlour. The housekeeper and butler also reside in this apartment. The others are somewhere in the attic.' He grinned. 'The maids are on one side of the house and the footmen on the other. There'll be no misbehaviour under this roof.'

  'I'm glad to hear it. The stables attached to this establishment didn't look large enough to accommodate all the horses. When the snow is clear I'll have to walk to the Priory in order to find a mount.'

  'Don't you worry about that, I'll make sure a suitable animal is fetched here for you. Miss Granville's gelding's already in situ.'

  'As long as our team is well-looked-after I care not where they're stabled. I wonder if they have a sleigh and suitably robust horses to pull it?' He was speaking out loud and didn't require an answer. 'I'll go down and check. If there is one it's unlikely to be housed here. The outside men can be set to clearing the drive from here to the Priory – I'll ask Sir Thomas if he's happy for me to put things in motion.'

  Foster knew when he was expected to speak and when he must remain silent. His man had been with him for five years and Garrick would be lost without him.

  He knocked on Eloise's sitting room door and Polly opened it with a smile. 'Miss Eloise is ready to go down and is waiting for you, my lord.'

  He moved towards her. 'Good morning, I fear we'll not be able to ride today or indeed for several days.'

  'I'm not overfond of snow; nasty, cold white stuff, but I own it makes the park look beautiful.'

  He reached down and lifted her into his arms. She settled as if she belonged there – which, of course, she did. 'Does Sir Thomas have a sleigh for such weather?'

  'I am before you on that score, Garrick, I've already sent Tom to fetch it. The snow's no longer falling hard so once the drive is clear we'll be able to get out. There are two such vehicles – one for conveying passengers and the other for heavy goods.'

  'Then later this morning shall we go out together and admire the winter scene? This house is a sensible size unlike the Priory or Penston Hall. I cannot remember being warm in the winter before. I think when I'm the earl I'll have built for us a modern residence of a similar size to this.'

  'I should like that above anything. Then there would be no danger of ghosts.'

  'Are you suggesting the monks might be able to follow you?'

  'No, but I've a nasty suspicion wherever there might be spirits they'll be able to communicate with me.'

  He placed her on the boards then put his arm around her waist so he could support her as she walked. 'There's no need for me to enquire the whereabouts of the breakfast parlour as there's an appetising aroma drifting from that passageway.'

  *

  Her grandparents never breakfasted with her – they ate in their own apartments. It would be pleasant to share this meal with another person and someone she was coming to like very much.

  'Sit down, Eloise, and I'll serve us both.'

  He guided her to a chair and swivelled it round so she could sit without difficulty. 'I like bacon, any sort of eggs as well as several slices of toasted bread. The marmalade and conserve are always waiting on the table. I prefer coffee. What would you like to drink?'

  His smile made her pulse skip. 'Another thing we have in common.'

  Whilst he busied himself at the buffet she had time to look at him without fear he would catch her staring. His topcoat was dark blue, his unmentionables hugged his thighs in such a way she thought they might be made of calfskin. His hessians were immaculate and fitted his lower limbs so closely she imagined his valet would have difficulty removing them.

  'Do you like what you see, sweetheart?' His amused enquiry made her drop her cutlery.

  'How did you know I was looking at you? Do you have mysterious powers that allow you to see through the back of your head?'

  He turned and brought two piled plates to the table. 'I guessed you might be taking an interest in my appearance and your reply confirmed it.'

  Once they both had a cup of the dark, bitter brew they both preferred he returned to the subject. She wished he had not.

  'Do I come up to snuff? Are you satisfied with your bargain?'

  'Fishing for compliments, my lord? We both know that you're a handsome man with a good physique. Not that it makes any difference to our arrangement as if you were bracket-faced, with spindly limbs and a crooked nose I should still be obliged to marry you.' No sooner had she spoken the words than she realised he was the one who had been stuck with a cripple.

  Her appetite had deserted her. She pushed herself to her feet and was going to leave but he was too quick for her. Gently he pressed on her shoulders until she subsided into the chair.

  'No, whatever you might think to the contrary, Eloise, I am delighted with the arrangement. Devil take it, child! You have a damaged leg but the rest of you is perfect.'

  He had resumed his seat beside her but for some reason she ignored his compliment and concentrated on his assertion that she was a child.

  'I shall be eighteen years of age in January, many young ladies are already married by then. How dare you insinuate I'm immature.'

  Instead of taking offence at her reprimand he laughed. 'I'm eight years your senior. To me you're still too young to take on the responsibilities of a countess.'

  She was about to argue, to tell him she'd been running the Priory for her grandmother these past two years, but then recalled that
he'd kissed her – and mentioned his desire to share her bed.

  'In which case, my lord, I think it best if our marriage remains in name alone until I reach my majority. I cannot think that the liberties you took with my person were appropriate in the circumstances as you state that you regard me as a child.'

  There was an ominous silence. She had overstepped the mark. Too late to repine. The damage was done and, unlike other young ladies, she could not flee but must remain where she was whilst she got her comeuppance.

  'Touché! You may relax, Eloise, I've not taken offence at your impertinence.' He placed his hand over hers. 'I accept your insistence that you're a woman grown and quite ready to become my true wife when we marry. The fact that I shall be breaking my solemn vow to both your grandfather and mine is a mere bagatelle.'

  He was deliberately goading her. It would have been better if she'd held her tongue but the words that came tumbling out of her mouth were quite scandalous.

  'In which case, I shall expect you to come to me tonight. After all, if we're to marry in three weeks' time I hardly think it matters.'

  He choked on his drink and sprayed the table with coffee. She hammered on his back whilst he continued to splutter. 'I beg your pardon, Garrick, that was unpardonable. I just wished to shock you, not ruin your breakfast.'

  Eventually he recovered his breath, stood up and marched from the room without saying a single word. She wasn't sure if she was relieved or dismayed by his behaviour. Normally she was a well-behaved, sensible young lady yet, in the space of twenty-four hours, her entire character appeared to have changed – and not for the better either.

  There was little point in her going after him as with his long legs he could be anywhere by now. She would just have to wait until he had regained his temper and then attempt to apologise a second time. She continued to eat her breakfast and was halfway through a slice of toasted bread when an appalling thought occurred to her.

  What if he took her at her word? She wasn't ready to discover the intimacies of married life even if he did make her heart beat faster. There was no question of allowing him into her bedchamber until they had known each other longer than a day or two.

  Disconsolately she abandoned her half-eaten meal and wandered slowly to the orangery which adjoined the side of the house. This was heated by a complicated arrangement of pipes which ran under the floor. Although no exotic plants or flowers grew here now it was still a delightful place to sit and view the winter landscape outside the walls of glass.

  She'd not been there above a quarter of an hour when he suddenly spoke from right behind her. Her bladder almost emptied. 'I'm in two minds whether to take you at your word or turn you across my knee.'

  As she was braced against the window shelf she was able to turn without losing her balance. He was no more than a few inches from her. 'If you're foolish enough to attempt either option I promise that you'll live to regret it.'

  It was difficult maintaining her dignity when a solid wall of exceedingly male flesh was no more than a hand's breadth from her face. Her pulse was erratic. She dare not raise her head to meet his eyes.

  She took three calming breaths and then filled the silence. 'I think it most ungentlemanly of you to creep about the place and startle a person half to death.'

  His voice was soft when he finally answered. 'Are there any other insults you'd like to throw at my head? I can assure you I'm eager to hear them.'

  She drew breath to answer but then considered this might be a rhetorical question and remained quiet. He was so close she was warmed by his heat. His breath brushed across the top of her head almost giving her palpitations.

  'Please, I'm sorry, but you make me so nervous I find myself talking nonsense. Can I go now?' Even to her own ears she sounded like a terrified child, which just served to confirm the opinion he'd expressed earlier and that she had objected to so strenuously.

  His answer was to put his arms around her and draw her to him so every inch of her overheated body was touching him. 'Now, little one, do you understand my problem? One moment you're a desirable passionate woman the next a babbling child. However much I might wish to, I won't be making love to you tonight or any night this year.'

  'And the other threat?' Her voice was muffled because her head was resting against his shirt front.

  'The spanking that I threatened? I don't believe in physical chastisement for children or for wives – or in your case future wife. I hope that reassures you.'

  'We need to talk…'

  'Is that not what we've been doing this past ten minutes?'

  'Don't try to aggravate me, sir, you know exactly to what I refer. We know so little about each other and we should remedy that situation immediately.'

  There was a wooden settle conveniently placed and they sat together. 'Shall I go first?' He nodded. 'My name day is the twenty-fifth of January. I cannot abide to eat fish of any description but am very fond of meat. I don't drink alcohol – not because I dislike it but because my grandparents disapprove. I love to read and discuss matters of a political nature often though this is best left to gentlemen, I've no interest whatsoever in fashion, and am an indifferent seamstress.'

  'I drink, but not to excess, I like a wager or two, but again in moderation. I eat anything apart from food smothered with rich cream sauces. I've been running the family estates for the past year as my grandfather's health deteriorated. I toured most of Europe in the years between leaving school and attending university. I prefer the country to the town.' He had crossed his legs at the ankle and her eyes were drawn to the length of his limbs as they had been before.

  'I forgot, I can sing and play the pianoforte but cannot paint a watercolour to save my life.'

  'I played the violin as a boy. Is there a music room here? I doubt any piano will be tuned but I think I can make a reasonable attempt to do so as I've seen it done several times.'

  Without conscious thought she had been leaning against him and his arm was around her shoulders ensuring that she didn't slip. 'I've only been here once before myself so have no idea how many reception rooms there are, or if one of them might be for music. Shall we go and investigate?'

  The orangery faced towards the extensive woodland and from there the narrow drive that led to the Priory was not visible.

  'I wonder how long it will take to clear a path so we can access the stables,' he said as they made their way around the house looking for a music room – or at least a chamber with musical instruments they could use.

  'We have a surfeit of outside servants in the winter as there is little they can do to maintain the fabric of the buildings, or the grounds and gardens. I'm certain both sledges will be here later today.'

  The search was fruitless so they retreated to the small drawing room where her grandmother was now situated. Grandpapa was conserving his strength and remaining in bed until dinner time.

  The next few days were spent in similar fashion. She and Garrick played Loo, Whist and even resorted to several riotous rounds of spillikins and whilst doing so she got to know him better. They read, laughed and even sang together as well as taking several enjoyable drives in the sledge.

  The ghosts were a thing of the past and she was able to push their behaviour to the back of her mind and enjoy his company. Occasionally she ventured with him into the orangery where the servants who were not engaged on other tasks were happily constructing garlands, wreaths and bows with which to decorate the house in the days leading up to the arrival of the first guests. Those unable to make the return journey without overnighting with them were expected to come at the beginning of next week. She was eagerly anticipating the beginning of the festivities to celebrate her marriage and the Lord's name day.

  Chapter Six

  Garrick decided it would make sense for him to examine the property he would be in control of next year. His stay at the Priory had been so brief he had had no time to make any judgements. From the exterior it appeared well maintained but it was quite possible the
dozen or so rooms that were housed in the magnificent ancient arch might be in disrepair as they'd not been in use.

  This building, like the guest house, was separate from the Priory itself. He wouldn't venture into the main building again unless he had Eloise with him. He should be safe anywhere that wasn't physically attached to where the ghosts resided.

  The gelding he'd been allocated was adequate, but no more than that. He wouldn't trust it over large fences so in one way was relieved the snow had yet to thaw. His coachman greeted him with less enthusiasm than usual.

  'My lord, I ain't one to complain, but mighty strange goings-on there's been around here. If it weren't for the snow I reckon young Bobby would've taken off.'

  Bobby was the under-coachman. 'Tell me what's been happening.'

  'Well, my lord, I can't rightly say but there's been noises in the night, things banging about in the Priory and no one living there. The other grooms say this place is haunted and I reckon they're right.'

  'It's the reason we removed to the guest house – the story that the roof had sprung several leaks was a falsehood. Until I came here I believed such stories to be superstitious nonsense but now I know different.'

  'As long as they stay put, I ain't worried. But I'll be glad to leave here, that's for sure.'

  'There will be at least a dozen extra horses arriving in a day or two. Put Bobby in charge of our team and you help out with the new animals. Stable my mount somewhere warm; I'm going to investigate the gatehouse.'

  There was no necessity for him to explain his movements to his servant but having just discussed the fact that there were ghosts living – if that was what they did – in the Priory had put them on a different footing.

  He had obtained the keys to the doors from the butler and was able to let himself in with no difficulty. The place was icy, frost patterned the inside of the windows. His breath steamed in front of him and he was glad of his thick greatcoat, gloves and beaver.

  Like the Priory itself this place had been kept in good repair. It was unfurnished, but the lime washed walls and leaded windows were intact. This had originally been the accommodation for visiting clerics so was without a large entrance hall or spacious reception rooms.