Page 24 of Christmas Spirits at Honeywell House (Ghosts of Rowan Vale #3)

AGNES

Agnes and Lawrie were together in his sitting room, listening contentedly to an album of Christmas carols, sung by the choir from King’s College, Cambridge.

As their sweet voices delivered a beautiful rendition of ‘The Holly and The Ivy’, Agnes found herself wishing, just for a moment, that she could visit the village and see this year’s Christmas lights for herself.

She had no doubt that Rowan Vale looked stunning, and it had been so long since she’d seen it dressed for the festive season.

How wonderful it would be to walk arm in arm with Mr Wyndham, young Florence skipping beside them, admiring the views, conversing with some of the more refined ghostly villagers, and strolling through the market, eyeing the exciting goods on display.

She wondered if roast chestnuts were available. She would like to smell those again.

Wistfully, she gazed at the crackling fire, reminding herself that she had a lot to be thankful for, even if a visit to the village was out of the question.

She glanced over at Lawrie, who was leaning back in his chair, his eyes closed, a smile on his lips.

He looked so contented that Agnes couldn’t help but smile, too, at the sight of him.

She was grateful he was listening to the carols in silence.

Dear Lawrie. He had always loved music, but sadly he had no talent for the pianoforte at all, and frankly, his singing voice was bad enough to curdle milk.

Ah well, one couldn’t be good at everything.

The door banged against the wall, and Lawrie’s eyes flew open, as Callie stormed in, looking unnervingly angry.

‘Good heavens,’ Agnes said reprovingly, her warm and cosy festive feelings evaporating instantly, ‘is there any need to open a door like that? Have you never heard of manners?’

‘Where’s Aubrey?’ Callie demanded.

Agnes’s eyes narrowed. ‘He’s in the schoolroom.

He volunteered to help Walter Tasker with the children’s lessons.

Since there’s to be a Dickensian weekend, Mr Tasker felt it would be appropriate to teach them about the works of Charles Dickens, and what life was like for the poor in Victorian England.

’ She sniffed. ‘I can’t say I approve, but you know Mr Wyndham. He has a heart of gold.’

‘Hasn’t he just!’ Callie plonked herself down on the sofa and glared at Lawrie in a most insolent fashion.

He eyed her with some amusement.

‘Something seems to have upset you,’ he said, reaching over to turn off the music box contraption and silencing the poor choir mid-song.

It suddenly felt deathly quiet in the room and, somewhat unnerved, Agnes sat up straight, adjusting her bed jacket.

‘Well,’ she said, ‘now you’ve ruined our pleasant afternoon listening to carols, perhaps you’ll tell us why you’re so desperate to see Mr Wyndham that your ability to behave with propriety has been lost to you.

Really, Callie! It’s the choir from King’s College!

I take it that even you can appreciate good festive music? ’

‘Absolutely,’ Callie said sarkily. ‘Nothing I love more than “A Wombling Merry Christmas”.’

Agnes winced, remembering that dreadful song from when William, Lawrie’s son, was young.

Surely Callie didn’t really consider that to be good festive music ?

But Callie had moved on. ‘I don’t want to speak to Aubrey.

I want to speak to you two, and I wanted to make sure that he wasn’t going to interrupt us.

I don’t want him hearing what I’ve got to say – at least, not yet. ’

Agnes and Lawrie exchanged worried glances.

‘Meaning what?’ Lawrie asked. ‘What’s all this about?’

‘Remember a few months ago, when I found out that Mia was related to Florrie, and that you’d made her keep her mouth shut?’

Agnes didn’t like the way this conversation was going. She gave Lawrie a nervous look, but he was gazing steadily at Callie.

‘I do indeed. Thankfully, all that business has been sorted now. All’s well that ends well.’

‘Except,’ said Callie, ‘you’ve neglected to tell me one thing, haven’t you?’

Lawrie raised an eyebrow. ‘I have?’

‘Yeah. Like, how you did exactly the same thing to Clara Milsom about Aubrey.’

Agnes gasped and Callie swung round to look at her. ‘You’re in on it, too, aren’t you? Lawrie would never do anything without your say-so, and this smacks of you giving him instructions and him running to do your bidding, just like he did with Mia.’

‘I – I have no idea what you’re talking about,’ Agnes said indignantly.

‘Oh, come off it!’ Callie threw up her hands in despair. ‘I just don’t get it. What is it with you two? Why did you do that to Clara? Why would you do that to Aubrey? You’re supposed to love him!’

‘Of course I—’ Thankfully, Agnes remembered herself in time and said, ‘I am exceptionally fond of Mr Wyndham, as well you know, and I resent any implication that I would do anything to hurt him.’

‘But you did! Can’t you see that? Just like you hurt Florrie.

You’re keeping Aubrey from his family, and that’s unfair and cruel.

As for you!’ She turned back to Lawrie. ‘I can’t believe the things you said to Clara when she first came to the village.

You practically threatened her. Saying she’d be thrown out of the place if she opened her mouth, like some second-rate gangster! What is this? Peaky Blinders ?’

‘Really, Callie, I don’t know what Clara has told you?—’

‘Everything! She told me everything! You took advantage of her, Lawrie. She loved Jack and wanted to stay with him, but she knew if it came right down to it, he’d give up everything to be with her.

She couldn’t have that on her conscience, so she did as you asked.

Because of that, she’s had to live with this secret that’s weighing heavily on her, and she’s lost the opportunity to get to know her ancestor.

And he’s lost the chance to get to know her!

And the Milsom boys! Can you imagine how thrilled Aubrey would be to know them all? I just…’

Her voice trailed off and her eyes widened. ‘Oh, my God! That’s it, isn’t it? That’s why!’

‘Why what?’ Agnes asked faintly.

‘Why you won’t let Aubrey go into the village!’

‘That – that has nothing to do with it. Silas Alexander?—’

‘Was giving you grief for decades and it never bothered you enough to keep you inside the grounds of the Hall. Someone told me it had been ten or fifteen years since you two last went into Rowan Vale. I’m willing to bet it was fifteen years.

As soon as Clara arrived here, in fact. You couldn’t risk her breaking her promise, so you kept Aubrey away from her.

You’ve kept him prisoner in this house!’

‘I’ve done no such thing!’ Agnes leapt to her feet, but Lawrie gestured to her to sit down.

‘The jig’s up, I’m afraid, Agnes. We may as well confess.’

Agnes dropped back onto the sofa, feeling quite ill. ‘You don’t understand. You mustn’t tell him.’

‘Why shouldn’t I?’ Callie demanded. ‘Right now, it seems I’m the only real friend he’s got, and it wouldn’t be very kind of me to let you two carry on with this deception. Poor Aubrey deserves so much better.’

‘I’ll admit,’ Agnes said weakly, ‘I did ask Lawrie to have a word with the young woman.’

‘Aubrey’s great-great-great-great-granddaughter,’ Callie reminded her. ‘Clara. Her name’s Clara.’

‘Yes, yes. Well, I saw her that day, as I was out walking with Mr Wyndham, and it was apparent that she could see him but had no idea I was with him. I knew what that meant, but I had to be quite certain, so I asked Lawrie to visit her and ascertain what her credentials were.’

‘In other words,’ said Callie, ‘find out how she was related to Aubrey, then bully her into promising never to go near him – or else.’

‘Really, Callie,’ Lawrie said, ‘you make it sound so crass.’

‘And you don’t think it is?’ Callie laughed in disbelief. ‘You two are bonkers, you know that? You’ve learned nothing! After everything we went through with Mia and Florrie, too!’

‘It’s not as simple as you think,’ Lawrie said.

‘Yes, it is. Agnes wants to keep Aubrey by her side like some pathetic lapdog, and when Agnes gives you an order, you jump to it.’

‘Well, really!’ Agnes couldn’t believe the nerve of the girl. ‘You make me sound like some sort of despot.’

‘Hmm. Do I? Well, if the cap fits…’

Callie stared pointedly at Agnes’s nightcap, and Agnes automatically adjusted it, as if it had somehow become dislodged.

‘I would thank you to remember your manners when speaking to Agnes,’ Lawrie admonished her. ‘She doesn’t deserve to be spoken to in such a fashion.’

‘Maybe not, but did Clara deserve to be spoken to the way you spoke to her? Did Aubrey deserve to be separated from his family and kept hostage in the grounds of Harling Hall?’ Callie turned back to Agnes, her eyes shining with tears.

‘You know how much he loves you. He longs to go into the village. He misses it, Agnes. He misses everything and everyone in it, and he wanted so much to go to the Christmas lights switch-on. Instead, I had to open a window for him so he could lean outside and catch a glimpse of the illuminations from upstairs. Why on earth would you treat him so badly?’

‘Oh, come on!’ Lawrie said impatiently. ‘He’s hardly The Man in the Iron Mask, is he? He has this enormous house to roam in, as well as extensive grounds. He has the gardens and the orchard and the acres and acres of parkland to explore. It’s not like he’s in manacles in the basement.’

At such an image, Agnes could bear it no longer. Had she really been so unkind to her beloved Mr Wyndham?

‘No, Lawrie,’ she said. ‘Callie’s right. It was unforgivable. I should never have made you go to see Clara. And I should never have lied to Mr Wyndham and kept him here against his will.’

‘Not against his will,’ Lawrie said firmly. ‘He chose to remain here with you.’

‘Yes,’ Agnes said wretchedly, ‘because he’s a good, kind man, who wants only to please me. And I have repaid his kindness with nothing but deception and cruelty. I do not deserve him.’

‘Steady on,’ Callie said, looking surprised at Agnes’s turnaround. ‘I never said that. Aubrey adores you. He’d be lost without you. I just don’t think it’s right that you’ve lied to him all this time.’

‘It’s not right,’ Agnes agreed. ‘Considering how badly he was treated all his life, that he should receive the same poor treatment in his afterlife, and by me, of all people, is not to be borne. In my defence, all I can say is that I thought I was doing the right thing. Any descendant of James is not to be trusted. I do not want to see Mr Wyndham hurt by one of his own yet again.’

‘Clara would never—’ Callie frowned. ‘What do you mean, yet again ? And was Aubrey treated badly all his life?’

‘You have no idea,’ Agnes said heavily. ‘I know. I was there. I saw it all and it broke my heart.’

‘Well…’ Callie glanced at Lawrie, who nodded in agreement. ‘Maybe – I mean, if you like – you could tell me about it. I’d really like to know more about Aubrey, and I want to understand why you’ve done this. Really, I do.’

Agnes swallowed. ‘It’s been so long, I hardly like to think about such times. But you’re right. Perhaps, after all, it’s time you knew. Maybe then you’ll see why I wanted only to protect him and keep him safe from that wretched family.’