Chapter Six

V iolet gasped, her eyes wide. She whirled around.

The woman stood at the entrance of the library, staring at Violet, her lips curled in a sneer. She pointed upward and walked away.

Violet stumbled, catching her boots on the long curtains that trailed to the floor. She tripped and fell, then, caught in her dress and petticoats, stood up. She disliked such fripperies, but they were necessary for modesty, even if they did get in one's way occasionally. She walked to the room's entrance, her footsteps light and hesitant.

Slowly, she peered out of the doorway, glancing left. At the end of the corridor, the woman faced her and walked up a set of stairs.

Violet shivered.

Mr. Fairbanks came out of the next room, his candle flickering, lighting up his handsome features. "Hullo there! Did you see anything?"

"Um."

"Say, you're white as a sheet. What happened?"

"I…" She looked at him. "You're not going to believe this. I saw something. Someone."

"Who?" he asked. "Let me guess. You think you saw a ghost?"

"I don't know. I would normally laugh at myself for even thinking such a thing. It couldn't have been. But I don't know what else to call it. I saw a woman, with a veil, dressed all in black. When I looked in the windows she was there in the reflection, and then when I looked out, she was standing at the far end of the corridor and walked upstairs." She paused. "I don't know where my uncle is, but I think she wants me to follow her to the attic."

"You're joking. You cannot be serious."

"I don't know what else to think. This isn't the first time I've seen her. I saw her earlier, but I thought she was a servant. She was pointing up. I think she wanted me to go to the attic." She gulped. "If she was the ghost, then she was trying to tell me to go up to where she died…"

"All right. We'll go to the attic. I'm not leaving you alone."

"Thank you."

Together, they walked past the conservatory, peeking in only for a moment. "Nope, nothing here but plants," Mr. Fairbanks confirmed.

They took the stairs and walked up to the first floor, where they ran into Mrs. Hemlock. "What are you two doing here?" Mrs. Hemlock asked, looking none too pleased to see them together.

"Mr. Fairbanks accompanied Miss Eagle and her servant to her room so Miss Eagle could lie down, then he found me in the hallway. I lost track of my uncle. Where did Mr. Ludlow go?"

Mrs. Hemlock shrugged, eyeing Mr. Fairbanks. "I've no idea. He said he wanted to investigate something downstairs and never came back. It's unusual. I'm not used to men leaving me." She fluttered her eyelashes at Mr. Fairbanks.

Mr. Fairbanks nudged Violet, but she ignored him. He said, "Miss Thorn saw a ghost."

Violet felt her cheeks warm. "Probably just a servant playing tricks. But it did give me a fright."

Mr. Ludlow appeared from downstairs. "How interesting. Why would a ghost want to haunt you?"

"I can think of a few good reasons," Mrs. Hemlock said.

Violet rolled her eyes. "Anyway, we were going to the attic. That's where she went, or at least in the direction of it."

"Jolly good," Mr. Ludlow said. "We'll join you. Better as a group, anyway. These old houses make my blood run cold, honestly."

Mrs. Hemlock tossed her curls over her shoulder. "Well, I'm not waiting for a ghost to scare me half to death. It wants us to go to the attic, I say let's meet it directly." She took the first few steps on the stairs and paused. "Are you coming with me? Miss Thorn, you can always stay behind if you're too scared." Her smile was sickly sweet.

"I'm fine. I'll go with you."

"Pity." Mrs. Hemlock led the way up, her hips sashaying from side to side. Violet saw her motion did not go unnoticed by the men, who were practically transfixed by it.

Violet let out a little noise of disgust. "Wait. We should check in on Miss Eagle and make sure she's all right. What if she sent the maid away to her own quarters?"

"I'll go with you," Mr. Fairbanks said.

"No need, old boy," Mr. Ludlow said. "I'll stand guard with Miss Thorn. No ghosts will get past me."

"Oh, yes, Mr. Fairbanks, join me," Mrs. Hemlock said. "I may need your protection."

"As you wish." He shot Violet a look. "You'll be all right?"

She nodded and the group split up.

Alone together in the corridor, Mr. Ludlow said, "I think her room is the first one on the left." He showed her the way. He knocked on the door. "Miss Eagle? Are you awake? Miss Eagle?"

He looked at Violet. "Open it," she told him.

He opened the door and walked in. "Miss Eagle?"

Miss Eagle was gone.

Mr. Ludlow and Violet rejoined the others, who seemingly had not moved from where they'd been moments prior. Violet told them of Miss Eagle's absence.

"Where could she have disappeared to?" Mr. Ludlow wondered aloud.

"I don't know. The kitchen, maybe?" Mr. Fairbanks said.

"It's possible." Violet gripped her candle tightly. "We should find her maid's quarters. Maybe Miss Eagle went looking for her."

"But the clock is almost at midnight," Mrs. Hemlock said. "I don't like this. Let's all stick together."

"Very well. Let's go to the attic, then search for Miss Eagle." Mr. Fairbanks led the way. They followed as a group up the stairs, just as the clock began to strike.

One.

The wooden floorboards creaked beneath their feet as they climbed the stairwell. Violet's skirts swished around her smart, polished boots. She held up her skirts with her left hand, her right hand on the railing as she climbed after Mr. Fairbanks.

Two.

They stood at the attic entrance. Mrs. Hemlock paused. "This is silly. Miss Thorn and I both saw a woman earlier. So why am I frightened?"

Three.

"Come now, Mrs. Hemlock," Mr. Fairbanks said. "There's nothing to be afraid of. It's probably one of the servants dressing up to play a little party trick on you."

Four.

Mrs. Hemlock shot him a wan smile. "I hope so. All the same, I'm a bit nervous." She hugged her shoulders. "Do we have to go in?"

Five.

"I'm scared too," Violet said."

Six.

"The woman wanted us to come up here. But why? She's already dead. Why would she want us to come up here?" Mr. Ludlow asked. "What did old Uncle Edwin say? That she was to be a harbinger of doom, of some sort. How did the legend go?"

Seven.

Violet gripped the wooden banister as she took the creaky stairs up. "She's said to be forecasting doom. And she wanted us to come here. Why, I don't know. But I think… I think we should go in."

Eight.

"Where could Miss Eagle be? And old Mr. Griffin? Why aren't the servants around?" Mr. Fairbanks asked.

Nine.

Mr. Ludlow said, "Blast it, I know where they are. They're still downstairs playing cards. I should fetch them."

Ten.

Mr. Ludlow held a candle in its pewter candlestick holder, but his hand was trembling. He was afraid. He held it out to Miss Violet. "Here, you take it."

Eleven.

"Enough of this. Tackle the ghost directly," Mr. Fairbanks said. "Come on, Mr. Ludlow. We are known for our English fortitude. Bear up, man. Bear up."

Miss Violet stood before the door leading to the attic and looked at the others standing beside her. "I'm going in."

Twelve.

Violet turned the doorknob and opened the door. A chill wind blew all of the group's candles out. She gasped.

"What? What is it? Do you see the ghost?" Mrs. Hemlock asked.

There, silhouetted against the bold moon, shining bright as day against the windows, stood a dark womanly figure swathed in black veils. The woman threw her head back and screamed. Mrs. Hemlock fainted.

Violet dropped her candle and went forward. "Uncle!"

There on the floor lay Violet's uncle, dead as a doornail.