The Secretary and the Ghost: A Gothic Paranormal Romance by Gillian St. Kevern

Author:Gillian St. Kevern [St. Kevern, Gillian]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-03-05T16:00:00+00:00

10

Pip's sorely bruised ego badly needed a balm. Fortunately, John arrived with a basin and a jug of just boiled water. Perfect. The water made him feel some semblance of himself, and John's presence reminded him he had a haunting to investigate. "Do I really look so like the ghost?"

John, lighting the fire, visibly flinched. "Well, really Mr Leighton, sir, I don't like to say."

"That jump answered my question," Pip said. "I scare you, don't I?"

John pursed his lips. "It is nothing that reflects on you sir. No, indeed, as Surplis says, the fault is all on my end, but it gave me such a fright and the horse too, and now I don't rightly like to go about the grounds at night, I don't."

After much patient questioning, Pip elicited the full story. Before becoming a footman, John worked in the stables as a groom. One evening, he took a newly arrived mare out for a ride to acclimatise her to her surroundings. Shortly after they set off down the drive, the ghost appeared before them, blocking their path, and wearing an expression John described as bone-chilling. The mare immediately panicked. It was all he could do to restrain her and flee to the stables. John spent the rest of the night in the stables, attempting to soothe the horse. "I could never put it out of my head, sir, it was that shocking, and the following storm is still talked about to this day as the worst in this county. Seven trees came down in our park alone. And there was no warning of it, none at all."

Pip pulled his shirt over his head thoughtfully. "Would you say the appearance of the ghost prevented you and the mare from being caught in the storm?"

"Indeed, I would not set foot outside the stable again that night for no one, sir."

A point in favour of Cross' theory that the ghost was a figure of warning—at least in some respects. "The mare?"

"Still here and as docile an animal as you will ever meet."

"You must show her to me sometime. It would be interesting to discover if the horse also associates me with her fright."

John gave him a startled glance. Pip felt as though the footman properly took him in for the first time. "At your service, sir."

As Pip considered how best to raise the subject of Joseph Leighton's death, a bell sounded downstairs. John stood. "Excuse me, sir."

A brougham approached the house, drawn by a matched set of four grey horses. A coachman in elaborate livery pulled the reins. Clearly the justice was within. Pip glanced at himself in the mirror and grimaced at his jacket. He would make do. He reached the hall just as Justice Hewitt was ushered into Foxwood Court.

Hewitt stepped into the ancient hall with the conscious weight of his own importance heavy on him. He smiled benignly at Surplis and inquired after Cross' health with the attitude of one conferring a benediction.

"No, we haven't apprehended the man.

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