Page 11 of Kindred Spirits at Harling Hall (Ghosts of Rowan Vale #1)

11

AGNES AND AUbrEY

‘You should see what she’s done to those rooms!’

Agnes barged into the drawing room, startling Aubrey, who’d been standing by the window, watching the comings and goings of the removal men as they slowly emptied the van of Callie’s belongings.

He closed his eyes for a moment then, steeling himself, he turned to Agnes with a smile.

‘Well, my dear, they are her rooms, and what she chooses to do with them is up to her.’

Agnes sank onto the sofa, shaking her head in dismay.

‘Why on earth did he give her the west wing? A whole wing, Mr Wyndham! And here we are, forced to share the east wing with Sir Lawrence and Brodie.’

‘Hardly forced, dear.’ Aubrey sat beside her and took her hand, ever the comforter. ‘Lawrie’s rooms have always been in this wing and you’ve been very glad about that until now. Besides,’ he reminded her gently, ‘the Davenports won’t be here much longer. You know what happens when new blood takes over at the Hall.’

‘Oh, don’t remind me.’ Agnes sighed. ‘I shall miss him so much, you know. I shall miss them both, of course, but Lawrie…’

‘I know. As shall I. Maybe they’ll stay in the village? We might see them around. If we ever venture out of the grounds, of course,’ he added, with a hint of hope in his voice.

‘But they never do, do they?’ Agnes said sadly, seeming not to notice. ‘Stay, I mean. As soon as they hand the estate over to the next owner, they leave. Why should it be different this time?’

‘I stayed,’ he reminded her with a nudge.

She gave him a reproachful look. ‘Now is not the time for frivolity, Mr Wyndham. Of course you stayed! You hardly had a choice. Those who were alive and able to leave the estate boundaries did so. Not that one can blame them, I suppose. Seeing the home you’ve loved handed over to strangers can’t be easy or pleasant, as you should know.’

‘Hardly strangers, my dear. Benjamin Ashcroft was well known to the Harlings, and my father was, after all, the Ashcrofts’ gamekeeper.’

Agnes sniffed. ‘Yes, well, the less said about that, the better. We hardly need reminding?—’

‘Of my family’s humble beginnings?’ he asked wryly.

Agnes gave him a stricken look. ‘I wasn’t going to say that! I was going to say, we hardly need reminding of your father. Nor your mother, come to that. Loathsome creatures.’

‘Agnes!’

‘I know what I know,’ she said, nodding furiously. ‘Anyway, we digress. The point is, that woman and her offspring now have the run of the west wing, and they’re seemingly intent on turning it into a circus sideshow.’

‘A circus sideshow?’ Aubrey struggled to hide a smile and failed. ‘And what do you know of circus sideshows, my dear?’

Agnes huffed, clearly put out that he wasn’t taking her seriously. ‘You know perfectly well what I mean. The furniture! They are the ugliest pieces I’ve ever seen. And she had the nerve to tell that child of hers that she’s glad Sir Lawrence cleared the rooms before they got here because she thinks our furniture would give her “the creeps”. I’m not entirely sure what that means, but it’s perfectly obvious it’s not complimentary. Lawrie should show her the door. He’s far too kind.’

‘Agnes, you know that won’t happen,’ Aubrey said firmly. ‘Miss Chase and her daughter are here now. They’re the new owners and there’s an end to it. We must make the best we can of the situation. We’ve been here before, after all. New blood and all that. I daresay we’ll be here again one day.’

Agnes got to her feet and walked slowly over to the window, taking up the position he’d just surrendered. Staring down at the van, she shuddered as the sound of the removal men’s voices floated upwards.

‘So common!’ she muttered. Turning round to view Aubrey, she found him sitting with his head down, lost in thought, and her heart melted. Such a handsome man. She hated it when he looked sad or wistful.

‘Do you ever wish it could be different, Agnes?’ he asked softly.

‘Different? In what way?’

He threw up his hands and looked around the drawing room. ‘You know. Us. This. This house. This village. Why are we still here? What did we do wrong?’

Forgetting to be cross about the interloper and her shocking lack of manners, Agnes rushed to his side and took his hands in hers. ‘My dear Mr Wyndham, you did nothing wrong! Nothing! Why the very idea…’

‘But we’re stuck here. We’ve been stuck here for so long. One always accepted the possibility, of course. You can’t live in Rowan Vale and not know there’s a chance you’ll end up marooned here forever. Even so… Why us? Why didn’t we pass on like so many others?’

‘I don’t know,’ she said firmly, ‘but I for one am very glad we didn’t.’

‘You can’t mean it?’

‘I do.’ She nodded vehemently. ‘If we’d moved on, you and I would never have discovered each other. And what about Florence? Oh, Mr Wyndham, imagine if we’d never become the little family we are today. Why, it hardly bears thinking about!’

‘You’re quite right, my dear. We have much to be grateful for.’ He hesitated then bravely went for it. ‘Agnes, about Florence. We really must— oh!’

His gaze transferred from Agnes to the door, where he saw a young girl with auburn pigtails watching them, a look of delight on her face.

‘Hello,’ she said.

Aubrey and Agnes exchanged shocked glances.

‘You can see us?’ Agnes murmured.

‘Of course I can.’ The girl ran into the room and sat beside them on the sofa, a wide smile on her face. ‘I’m Imogen, but most people call me Immi. Who are you?’

‘I’m Aubrey?—’

‘Mr Wyndham to you, child,’ Agnes said sharply. ‘And I’m Mrs… Wyndham.’

Aubrey cleared his throat. ‘Ahem. I suppose you must be Miss Chase’s daughter.’

‘Indeed she is. I saw Miss Chase and this child conversing with Mia in the west wing,’ Agnes said pointedly.

Immi (and really, what sort of name was that? Almost as bad as Callie!) laughed. ‘Yes, I know. I saw you snooping around, trying to stay out of Mum’s sight.’

‘Snooping!’ Agnes spluttered, outraged. ‘I’m quite sure I was doing no such thing.’

‘We were given to understand that you didn’t have your mother’s – er – talent,’ Aubrey said, puzzled.

‘Oh, that was a misunderstanding,’ the little girl said airily. ‘She didn’t know I could see ghosts, but she does now. It’s all sorted. Isn’t it great?’ she added eagerly. ‘I’m so happy to be here. Isn’t it a gorgeous house?’

Agnes felt slightly mollified. ‘It is indeed,’ she agreed.

‘Ever so big, though,’ the child continued. ‘I’ll probably get lost loads. I might have to leave a trail of breadcrumbs, like Hansel and Gretel.’

‘You will not!’ Agnes told her indignantly. ‘And attract mice?’

‘Perhaps a ball of wool,’ Aubrey suggested, a twinkle in his eye.

Agnes smiled at him. She loved that twinkle and his kind voice. It was that twinkle and his kind voice that had…

Embarrassed by where her mind was going, she pulled herself together. Now wasn’t the time for such inappropriate thoughts. Especially when they had company.

Adjusting her bed-jacket, she said briskly, ‘I’m sure you’ll find your way around quickly enough.’

‘Perhaps Florence could show her?’ Aubrey suggested.

‘Who’s Florence?’ The girl’s eyes lit up. ‘Oh, you mean Florrie, right?’

Agnes decided that twinkle or no twinkle, Aubrey was pushing his luck.

‘I mean Florence,’ she said stiffly, ‘and I hardly think so, Mr Wyndham.’

‘Florence is our, er, daughter,’ Aubrey explained, as if Agnes hadn’t spoken. ‘She’s ten years old. How old are you?’

‘I’m eleven next month,’ the girl said.

‘Splendid!’ Aubrey beamed at her then turned to Agnes. ‘There you are, my dear. A new friend for Florence at last.’

‘Florence has friends,’ she said abruptly.

Aubrey frowned. ‘But you keep saying you’d prefer it if she didn’t associate with Robert and John. And, after all, Immi is a little girl. Much more suitable I’d have thought?’

Agnes eyed Immi with suspicion. ‘What on earth are you wearing?’ she demanded.

The child glanced down. ‘Jeans,’ she said puzzled. ‘Have you never seen jeans before?’

‘I’ve seen them,’ Agnes said with a sniff. ‘Usually on tradespeople. Never on people with breeding.’

‘Brodie was wearing them when he came to our flat the other week,’ Immi said slyly. ‘Doesn’t he have breeding?’

Agnes could have sworn Aubrey smothered a smile.

‘That’s different,’ she said. ‘You’re a little girl. You should be in pretty dresses. Anyway, the point is, I don’t think you’d be suitable company for our daughter. You’re too – modern.’

‘Oh.’ Immi got to her feet. ‘Well, I’ll soon be making friends at my new school anyway. Never mind. I’d better go and help Mum unpack now the removal men have finished. It’s going to take us ages. Catch you later.’

She ran lightly to the door and Aubrey called, ‘It was very nice to meet you, Immi.’ He waited until she’d run down the landing then said, ‘Now Agnes, about Florence?—’

He turned to find Agnes had gone.

‘Oh, my dear,’ he murmured mournfully. Had there ever been a more stubborn woman than Agnes Ashcroft?