Wyrde and Wicked by Charlotte E English

Author:Charlotte E English [English, Charlotte E]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: historical fantasy, humorous fantasy, humor, regency fantasy, Regency
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Ten

The scene out at the family plot even took stout-hearted Gussie aback, so unusual a sight did it present.

A cluster of intrepid souls ventured out into the crisp, clear air, Gussie (thanks to Miss Frostell’s efforts) closely wrapped up in her warmest pelisse, with a scarf about her neck. The two children of the house stuck close to them, Miss Selwyn claiming an incipient and paralysing boredom if she was left out of the scheme, and Lord Maundevyle venturing nothing in explanation of his curiosity save a slight smile.

Great-Aunt Honoria, of course, enjoyed the adventure to an uncommon degree. ‘It’s better than a picnic!’ she declared, bobbing along above Gussie’s head.

‘With corpses in place of cake, and instead of porcelain tea-cups we shall have aged bones,’ said Gussie. ‘Nothing could be more delightful.’

‘I knew you were a girl after my own heart,’ said Great-Aunt Honoria.

The Selwyn family plot was attached to a tiny church situated on the border of the Starminster property. The church itself was in a state of disrepair: the begrimed glass panes of its arched windows sported more than one crack running through, and the grey stonework crumbled.

‘What shocking neglect,’ Gussie said, eyeing Lord Maundevyle with disapproval. ‘Ought it not to be repaired?’

‘It is not much used,’ he excused himself. ‘The parish is now served by a bigger, finer church a mile off.’

‘Still, it is a charming old building, and deserves better treatment.’

‘Then I shall attend to it directly,’ Lord Maundevyle promised.

‘Excellent,’ said Gussie.

Miss Frostell intervened. ‘My dear, his lordship may be safely left to the management of his own estates, mayn’t he?’

‘Oh, don’t interfere!’ begged Miss Selwyn. ‘It pleases me no end to see Henry put in his place, and so neatly, too. I shall take notes.’

The whole party having, by this time, come upon the moss-grown collection of headstones making up the Selwyn family’s resting place, conversation immediately died, for the full, magnificent panorama now became clear.

In the first place, there was Lord Werth, presiding over the unearthing of a grave in the centre of the churchyard. He had three gardeners under his direction, brawny young fellows with shovels; they were hard at work, and earth flew every which way. Several graves lay open to the air. Their occupants lounged about in postures of luxurious idleness, talking amongst themselves.

‘Why, it is a picnic,’ said Honoria in high glee, and swooped down upon them.

In the second instance, Lady Maundevyle had joined the venture. She and Lord Werth appeared to be getting along uncommonly well, to Gussie’s amazed eye, and this despite the fact that her ladyship had not yet effected a full return to her usual form. Her legs might be restored to her, but her mouthful of sharp, bristling teeth flashed in the light as she laughed at some sally of my lord’s.

And in the third place, dwarfing the proceedings with her enormous bulk was Lady Margery, coiled in the frozen field adjacent to the churchyard, and resting her snout upon the ironwork fence. ‘A little deeper, and you shall have him up!’ she called encouragingly, blinking her great eyes.

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