Chapter 23

Chapter Twenty-Three

W hen Lady Gigi got wind of the trip to Chuddums, she insisted on going. Misters Canning and Parkhurst promptly joined the entourage. None of them seemed to mind that they were accompanying a servant on an errand to the village. Ethan insisted on bringing a pair of guards, who followed on horseback. Despite all that, the carriage ride over was jolly and full of easy conversation, and Xenia found herself relaxing.

She particularly enjoyed the banter between Ethan and his sister. Having no siblings of her own, she observed their closeness with a wistful pang. Ethan was the epitome of a big brother, protective and a bit overbearing. Lady Gigi held her own with spirited verve, displaying her clever wit and independent mind. She and Xenia had a fun chat about their shared love of novels.

Upon arrival in Chuddums, Ethan declared that Xenia would be their guide as she was most familiar with the village. She accepted her role with grace, wanting to share the charms she'd discovered. She began the tour at Hatcherds, where the group received an effusive welcome from Mr. Khan. His success at the mop fair had motivated him to expand his offerings, which now included a bigger selection of books, stationery items, and bric-a-brac he'd gathered on his travels.

In the cozy new reading area, he presented them with sweets he'd made himself. After tasting one of the syrup-soaked, cardamom-spiced treats, Lady Gigi asked for another, much to his beaming delight. The party continued to browse, and Xenia took the shopkeeper aside.

"Has there been talk about what happened at the manor, Mr. Khan?" she said in an undertone.

He glanced at Ethan, who was a brooding presence behind her.

"I would consider it a favor if you would speak freely, sir," Ethan said.

"In that case." Mr. Khan pushed up his spectacles and lowered his voice. "A certain former employee of yours has been palavering about Bloody Thom to anyone who will listen. She says she saw him slaughter a flock of chickens with her own eyes. Then she claimed he hosted a ghoulish ball at midnight, and when his lordship interrupted, Bloody Thom erupted into a temper and cursed everyone in the manor."

If nothing else, Daisy is creative.

Xenia exchanged looks with Ethan, whose jaw had a grim edge.

"That report is more fiction than truth," Xenia said. "In fact, the so-called haunting might be a hoax."

The wrinkles on Mr. Khan's forehead deepened. "Why would anyone play such a horrid trick?"

"A constable is looking into the matter. In the meantime, whoever is behind the scheme knows a lot about the local folklore. Thus, we are trying to learn more about Bloody Thom. Other than the poem, is there more you can tell us about him?"

"Off the top of my head, I cannot think of anything." Mr. Khan scratched his ear. "But you should ask Mrs. Pettigrew. Her family has been here for several generations, and she has grown up with tales about the ghost."

Thanking Mr. Khan, Xenia waited for the group to make their purchases, then led the way to the Leaning House. She was pleased to see that the tearoom was bustling. Mrs. Pettigrew greeted them with a respectful bob, looking flustered by the noble guests.

"What a charming establishment, ma'am," Lady Gigi enthused. "And how original that you've eschewed conventions of symmetry."

"Thank you, my lady." Mrs. Pettigrew appeared starstruck by the glamorous debutante. "My grandpapa built the shop at an angle by accident. Since his mistake drew customers, he didn't bother to change it."

"As I am often a trifle askew myself," Lady Gigi confided, "I shall feel right at home."

Her quip led to laughter all around. A smiling Mrs. Pettigrew seated the party at her best table, which had a view of the village green. After the food arrived—pots of strong Assam tea and plates of sandwiches and cakes—Xenia slipped away to find the good lady, who was in the kitchen, putting the finishing touches on a familiar dish.

"Is that Poor Knights of Windsor pudding?" Xenia asked.

"Indeed, it is." A smile tucked into Mrs. Pettigrew's generous cheeks. "Since the mop fair, it has become my signature dish. I do hope his lordship's party will enjoy it. And I must thank you again for bringing them to my humble establishment."

"You're most welcome. The truth is I have another purpose for coming today as well."

"Oh?"

Xenia repeated what she'd told Mr. Khan. "If you can tell me anything else about Bloody Thom, I would appreciate it."

"I don't know what else to add." Mrs. Pettigrew tucked a stray curl beneath her cap as she mulled over the matter. "But you ought to pay a visit to Henrietta Sommers."

Although Xenia had passed Mrs. Sommers's dress shop on several occasions, she'd never had reason to go in.

"Her grandpapa, Old Man Walford, lives with her and knows Chuddums better than anyone," Mrs. Pettigrew went on. "You might have seen him in the square wearing a checkered coat."

"You mean Wally?" she asked in surprise. "The gentleman who gives directions?"

"I see you've met him," Mrs. Pettigrew said fondly. "Mr. Walford is in his nineties now, and his faculties aren't what they used to be. However, he was the mayor at one time and might have the information you are seeking."

It did not take much convincing on Xenia's part to add the dress shop to the group's agenda.

"There is a dress shop in Chuddums? Why didn't you say so earlier?" Lady Gigi moaned. "We should have gone there before I stuffed myself with Mrs. Pettigrew's pudding."

Ethan arched a brow. "If you wish to skip the visit?—"

"Skip the dressmaker's?" The raven-haired beauty looked at her brother as if he'd suggested that she somersault off a bridge. "I think not. I shall simply do what every lady does in such a situation."

"You'll choose a looser style?" Parkhurst ventured.

"Heavens, no. I'll tighten my corset strings."

Lady Gigi rolled her eyes at Xenia as if to say, Gentlemen don't know very much, do they?

On the way, they lost Misters Canning and Parkhurst to a store displaying pocket watches. Mr. Pickleworth also stopped them, barring their way like a highwayman with his platter of cut tomatoes. As usual, Xenia declined, but in contradiction to her earlier concerns, Lady Gigi sampled several slices and purchased some to take home with her.

"These are the most delightful tomatoes," she exclaimed.

"Exactly, my lady." Mr. Pickleworth handed her the bag while giving Xenia an I-told-you-so look. "Ripe and juicy, like I said."

When they finally entered Mrs. Sommers's shop, Xenia gazed around with professional admiration. Despite the small space, everything was neat as a pin, with no clutter anywhere. A line of fashionable frocks was displayed on dressmaker's dummies. Cabinets containing unmentionables and accoutrements were tucked along the wall for discreet browsing. Looking glasses were spotless and counters polished to a dust-free gleam.

The dressmaker came to greet them. Dressed in black, she was small in stature and as tidy as her shop. Hastily, Xenia smoothed a wrinkle on her skirt.

"Good afternoon. I am Mrs. Sommers." The dressmaker curtsied. "May I be of assistance?"

"I hope so," Lady Gigi said brightly. "I am visiting my brother from London, and in my haste to see him, I did not pack sufficiently. I am in dire need of a wardrobe."

Truth be told, Lady Gigi looked like a fashion plate in her stylish pink-and-white striped carriage dress, bonnet trimmed with matching ribbon and silk flowers, and dainty shoes. Like any wise businesswoman, however, Mrs. Sommers's response was a deferential nod that said the customer knew best…especially when said customer had ample coin to spend. An assistant seated Lady Gigi in a comfy chair and brought her tea while Mrs. Sommers proceeded to show her examples of the latest silhouettes to use as inspiration for her own gown. The assistant brought over bolts of fabric for Lady Gigi to inspect.

Lady Gigi narrowed the choices down to two. "Ethan, which color do you prefer?"

Ethan, who had been idly examining a display case of gloves, looked over at the bolts. "They are both blue."

"One is mazarine blue," Lady Gigi said patiently. "The other is cornflower blue."

He aimed his gaze heavenward. "Get dresses made in both colors. And whatever else you need."

"This is why you are my favorite brother!"

When Lady Gigi went to a dressing room to have her measurements taken, Xenia hovered nearby, hoping to speak with Mrs. Sommers when the lady had a moment. As she waited, a frock caught her eye. It was cut from taffeta the shade of tender spring leaves. The dress had a modest square neckline and puff sleeves, the fitted bodice flowing into full skirts. A bit of lace at the sleeves and hem finished the creation.

It was probably the plainest dress in the shop, but Xenia loved it.

"See something you like?"

Ethan's deep voice startled her. She snatched her hand away from the dress.

"I don't need anything," she said.

"That is not what I asked."

The look in his eyes ruffled her, and her cheeks warmed. To be caught wanting what she couldn't afford embarrassed her. She was poor, but she had her pride. Of course, he wouldn't understand because he was a man who could buy whatever he wished.

She was saved from replying by Mrs. Sommers, who emerged through the back curtain.

Ethan took the lead. "Mrs. Sommers, if I might trouble you for a moment?"

"Certainly, my lord." Mrs. Sommers's manner was obliging to her well-paying client. "How may I be of assistance?"

"I am interested in some local history," he said. "Mrs. Pettigrew suggested that I speak to your grandfather. Is Mr. Walford available?"

"He usually is, but he's gone to stay with my sister in Manchester for a month. Is there anything I might help you with? Having lived in Chuddums all my life, I'm quite familiar with its history."

"It has to do with my property," he said. "Certain rumors about a ghost have made the retention of staff difficult. Thus, I would like to understand more about the local lore."

Xenia admired his tact.

"I see. Well, rumors about Bloody Thom have been around longer than I have," Mrs. Sommers said matter-of-factly. "They seem to have worsened in recent years, much like the fortunes of the village, I suppose. If you ask me, it's a bunch of nonsense. There is no such thing as ghosts."

"On that, we agree," Ethan said.

"But there are plenty of superstitious folk in the village, and the reports of so-called sightings don't help. Especially when those reports are, shall we say, embellished."

"You have heard Daisy's account?" Xenia guessed.

"Who hasn't?" The dressmaker snorted. "If you ask me, you're better off without her."

Xenia sighed. "It does leave the staff shorthanded, however."

"If you are looking to hire maids, Mrs. Wood, I have a gaggle of nieces in the next village looking for work. I'm certain they'd jump at the opportunity."

"I'd be much obliged," Xenia said gratefully. "And even more in your debt if you can think of anything to tell us about Bloody Thom beyond the rhyme and curse."

"I don't know if this will help." Mrs. Sommers pursed her lips. "But once, when I was a girl, my older sister decided to play a trick on me by dressing up in a tattered sheet stained with berry juice. She woke me in the middle of the night, and I screamed so loud I woke the house. I was scared to sleep for days. Finally, my grandpapa took me aside and asked if I could keep a secret. He told me I needn't be afraid of Bloody Thom. While others believed that Bloody Thom was a ghost story, he said that it was actually a love story."

"A love story?" Xenia echoed. "How can that be?"

"According to Grandpapa, the witch of the story wasn't a terrifying hag but a beautiful young woman. He said that she and Thomas Mulligan were in love."

"I don't understand. What about the curse?"

"I'm afraid that is all I can recall. It's possible that my grandpapa made this up to soothe me, but you can ask him when he returns. Hopefully, he will remember." Mrs. Sommers's smile was poignant. "He is the last of his generation in Chuddums, and when he goes, so will much of our village's history."