A Dreadful Splendor (19)

I made my way down the ladder. “I’m not busy,” I said. “Come in.”

She went directly to the grandfather clock that stood like a sentry in the dark corner. The middle of the clock’s face was decorated with a star-shaped design. I watched her work, guessing that she was of similar age to me.

“I hates coming in here,” she said. There was a light tremble to her voice, like she wanted to laugh but wasn’t sure. “The others in the kitchen tease me, but you don’t see any of them up here, do ya? Every time I turn me back on these animals I expect them to come to life and swallow me up.”

She opened the glass door and fitted the end of a small winch in the star shape of the clock’s face. “One, two, three,” she counted softly as she turned the handle. Her hands were red and chafed, likely from years of washing laundry, I reasoned.

“You’re very careful with this task,” I said. “I’m sure it’s for your skill and not just your bravery that you’ve been assigned this duty.”

The girl smiled, touching her bonnet self-consciously.

“And you work in the kitchen too?” I probed, recalling the delicious breakfast I had enjoyed earlier.

“Aye,” she said. “Mostly the baking and helping Mrs. Galloway.” She closed the glass door of the clock and used a cloth to wipe her prints clean. She tucked the winch into her apron pocket. It was heavy enough to drag down that side of her uniform. “I do a bit of dusting too.”

I looked at her incredulously. “You seem to have a lot of jobs.”

“It’s not that much, really. The housemaids do the rest of the basic upkeep. And we only cleans the part of the manor that’s in use. No one goes to the third floor. It’s been locked for years.”

“What exactly does Mrs. Donovan do?”

“Judge others, mostly.”

I laughed. We stood a few feet apart, the lull of our conversation hanging in the air.

“Don’t you find it cold in here, miss?” she asked, rubbing her arms.

“No.”

The girl regarded me for a moment, folding the dust cloth. “I guess you’re used to this kind of thing, though, eh?” She nodded to the animals. “Death and all that.”

“Not exactly.” I frowned at the head of a black bear positioned beside the stag. “But yes, I suppose that’s why I’m here. I’m considering making use of this room for the séance.”

She went as still and wide-eyed as the deer on the wall.

In seven days, I would need to convince a room full of people that I was conjuring Audra’s spirit. I reasoned that establishing some atmosphere with the staff would be wise.

I explained, “There’s a certain frequency a ghost requires for a successful crossover. Only those sensitive to that quality, people like myself, can detect that difference. I’m seeking a room that doesn’t contain too much lead or natural elements such as gold or silver. They can interfere with spiritual signs.” The lie slipped calmly from my lips, the result of years of listening to Maman.

She let out a nervous giggle. “If I had any of those metals them spirits don’t like, I’d be sewing them into all me dresses.”

“Ghosts can’t hurt you,” I said. “It’s the people on this side of the grass you should worry about.”

“Tell that to him.” She nodded to the portrait above the fireplace. “That there is Miss Audra’s grandfather, Lord Chadwick the third. Me great-aunt worked here before me, and she swears the old man was pure evil. She believes he haunts the walls of this old castle, taking the place apart stone by stone until the whole lot tumbles into the sea.”

I hugged the novel to my chest, suddenly aware of the chill in the air the girl had spoken of.

“He was mad,” she continued. “That’s what took him in the end. He ran off into the winter night, naked as the day he was born, screaming about a voice calling out to him!”

I looked at the portrait and made a face, imagining such a scene.

The girl read my mind. “Must’ve been a sight,” she whispered. “Auntie Lil swears he was the devil himself and saw his wicked reflection in the mirror. That’s what scared him so bad.”

A heaviness settled in my throat. I tried to swallow it down. “When did he die?”

“When Lady Audra was just a young girl. But still, he lingers.”

“That’s quite a long time for a ghost to haunt a dwelling.”

She nodded to the grandfather clock. “I’m no expert, miss, but this clock chooses when to stop keeping time. For months it’ll work proper—then one day it just stops, all the weights inside tangled up or such. The others say it’s the warped floors making it unbalanced. But a thing this heavy don’t move by itself, can it?”

I stayed quiet, knowing anything was possible if someone knew enough tricks.

She rubbed her arms again. “So, you can really talk to ghosts?” She peered at me, equal parts fear and intrigue. I recognized that expression of curiosity and desire. I had seen it on the young constable too.

She had lost someone.

“That’s why you’re here, right?” she prompted. “To help Lady Audra?” She held the dust rag to her chest. “Oh, it was so tragic, miss. She died so young, before she could marry, before she really even had a life.”