The Mysteries of Pendowar Hall (The Audacious Sisterhood of Smoke & Fire #1)

Chapter Thirteen

C aptain Fallbrook wore a dressing gown over black trousers and a half-buttoned shirt. “Who goes there?” he bellowed, candle in hand, relying on his cane for every halting step. Catching sight of Diana, he froze several paces inside the door, blinking in apparent surprise. “Miss Taylor?”

“Captain.”

“How did you get in here?”

“I… found these.” Hesitantly, she brought forth the ring of keys from her pocket.

“ Found them? How? Where?”

Diana’s face flamed. “In your uncle’s chamber.”

“What were you doing in my uncle’s room?” He looked fit to be tied. “And how dare you come up here when I told you this wing, and this tower in particular, were expressly forbidden?”

“I’m sorry. I know it was wrong. You would be within your rights to dismiss me, sir. But I hope you will not.” Diana swallowed hard.

His blue eyes blazed with a fury he visibly struggled to hold in check. “Don’t tell me this has something to do with our earlier conversation? About my uncle?”

Her cheeks grew even hotter. “I can explain, if you will allow me.”

“Pray go on, then,” he said through gritted teeth.

“I was thinking of your ward,” she began. “I went to your uncle’s room in search of his missing journal. ”

“His journal?”

“I still hope that its discovery will help explain the circumstances of his death.”

“I told you to give that up!”

“I know. Forgive me, Captain. My curiosity got the best of me. I didn’t find a journal—but I came upon his keys. I never touched them until tonight when I saw a blinking light in the window of this tower. Did you see it?”

“Yes.” His features remained taut, and his tone abrupt.

“Do you know the person and the motive behind it?”

“I do not.”

“I had to know. I hoped one of those keys might provide access to the tower, so I borrowed them. But the room, as you see, is empty.”

He fell silent, brooding. “I suppose you expect me to forgive you for borrowing what does not belong to you and expressly disobeying my orders?”

“I expect nothing.”

“Hand them over.” He held out a hand, palm upward. Diana gave him the keys. He placed them in his dressing gown pocket. “This is the second time you have flouted a directive of mine, Miss Taylor.”

“The second time?”

“The roadside? The carriage? The storm?”

Diana bit her lip, remembering. “I’m sorry.”

He heaved a sigh. His anger seemed to ease slightly. “You have done no harm this time, I suppose. But take care not to do so again. I have my reasons for wishing this room to remain undisturbed.”

“Yes, sir.”

She wanted to ask him what those reasons were but thought it best not to test him in this mood. She became aware, suddenly, that he was only half-dressed, and so was she. The sight of his unbuttoned shirt and the resulting exposed flesh caused a heat to rise to her face and her pulse to quicken .

The impropriety of this meeting was not lost on her. She was alone in an isolated tower with a handsome reputed womanizer. The description seemed appropriate, for as his gaze took in her own state of deshabille , a sudden glimmer lit his eyes. She ought to go at once. But despite herself, her feet remained rooted to the spot.

“You’re certain no one else is here?” the captain asked.

“I am. Is there any other means of exit from this room, other than the tower stairs?”

“No.”

“Well, it is a great distance from the east wing to this part of the house. Whoever it was must have fled down the stairs and exited outside into the night before I arrived. I think they were sending a signal.”

“A signal? For what purpose?”

“I could not say. Or someone might be playing a trick. I cannot help but wonder if this is somehow connected to the other unexplained events at Pendowar Hall.”

His forehead furrowed. “What unexplained events?”

“Well, for one thing, the footsteps I heard in the hall on my first night here.”

“You mean the footsteps you dreamt?”

Her stomach tightened. “I did not dream them any more than we dreamt the light in that window.”

“No, we did not dream that. But I think I understand what happened now. The moon is full tonight. When it achieved the optimum angle, its brilliance was reflected in the window.”

Diana frowned. “But the light flashed.”

“Clouds must have passed intermittently before the moon. I admit, I was curious, and I made my way here to investigate. But I see now it was simply a trick of the light. What else could it have been? The tower was locked. The only person other than myself—and you, on this occasion—who has the key is Mrs. Gwynn, and I trust her implicitly.”

Diana could think of no rebuttal. “Perhaps you are right. Perhaps it was a trick of the light.”

“I’m sure it was. It is late, Miss Taylor. Allow me to show you back to your room.”

They left. He locked the door.

As they made their way down the stairs, Diana asked, “Captain, who decorated that chamber?”

“An eccentric and deluded ancestor more than a hundred years ago.”

“You mean the baronet who fell in love with the mermaid?”

“The same. After his wife’s death, it is said that Sir Peter furnished the north tower room to appease Morwenna. Others believe it is a shrine to his ‘one true love.’ He carved the bed himself and slept there every night until his death.”

“What a fascinating tale. It’s a beautiful room.”

“It’s an embarrassment,” he argued.

“It’s a tribute,” she insisted.

“To what? A madman’s folly? A vengeful spirit?” They reached the ground floor. Captain Fallbrook locked the door behind them. “Those who followed have not proven any more discerning,” he said as they made their way down the long, dark hall. “That chamber has been unoccupied for over a century, and yet no one has changed a thing.”

“You haven’t changed it, either,” Diana pointed out.

“When would I have had time?” he shot back, his tone once again harsh and irritable. “I have only been here four months and I have either been recovering or occupied every moment.”

A hot flush crept up Diana’s neck. “Forgive me. I shouldn’t have said that.”

“I assure you it is on my list to redecorate that room from top to bottom and repair this wing. Why it hasn’t been done before is a mystery to me. ”

“Perhaps the former baronets were afraid of upsetting Morwenna’s spirit.”

He glanced at her as they continued down the hall. “That’s ridiculous. Tell me you don’t believe it.”

“I don’t. But others do. It is not ridiculous to those who believe the Mermaid’s Curse to be unbreakable.”

“But it is not unbreakable.”

“Isn’t it? Ivy implied otherwise.”

“Then Ivy has forgotten the codicil.”

“There is a codicil?”

“Every worthy curse has a codicil, Miss Taylor.” Despite the lightness of the remark, his tone was still embittered. “This one is truly extraordinary.”

“Enlighten me.”

“According to the legend,” the captain explained, “there is one way the curse can be broken: a Master of Pendowar must once and for all pledge his love to a maid who comes from the sea. However, this time, he must not only love her, but agree to spend all the rest of his days with her.”

“Presumably under the sea?”

“Presumably.”

“A rather difficult pledge to enact,” Diana remarked. “If he did so, ‘the rest of his days’ would last no more than a matter of minutes under the sea.”

“Indeed,” he agreed.

“Is that the entirety of the codicil?”

“There is one more part, which, upon its occurrence, will supposedly prove the curse has been broken. It is said that on the day that Morwenna’s spirit is appeased, she will express her approval in two ways: by causing the ocean to rise to the top of the cliffs and by turning the beach itself green.”

“Oh, my. I should like to see that.”

“It is madness! All of it. And to me, that tower room is just an awful reminder of the horrible day when Aunt Sylvia and Cousin Robert…” A haunted look swept across his face.

“What happened to them, Captain?” Diana asked quietly. “All I know is that they died at sea.”

They had reached the main part of the house now, where they would part ways. He stopped. His features hardened, as if a mask had dropped into place.

“That is a conversation for another time, Miss Taylor. I bid you good night.”

*

Diana and Miss Fallbrook spent a good portion of the following day visiting the poor. Her pupil’s initial shyness had faded, and in its place a gregarious nature blossomed. She was initiating conversation now and taking a real interest in the people they met and the help they were providing.

“The other day, when we visited Greenview Farm,” Miss Fallbrook remarked as they walked home that afternoon, “I couldn’t help noticing how old Mrs. Trenowden’s apron was, and her girls’ dresses fitted them so poorly. Can we get them some new things?”

“I don’t know about getting them,” Diana replied, “but perhaps we can make them.”

“ Make them?” Miss Fallbrook frowned. “My needlework skills are limited to embroidery.”

“That is a good start. I can teach you the rest.”

“Where would we get the fabric and thread?”

“We shall need money for that.”

Diana wrote a note to the captain, and a meeting was scheduled for the following evening at seven o’clock. At the appointed hour, Diana paused on the threshold of the study. She had never visited this chamber but had been curious about it.

The manly room, which was situated on the same level as her own chamber but at the opposite end of the building, was not overly large. A fire gleamed in a stone hearth, casting a reddish glow on walls covered in dark wooden paneling, bookcases, and built-in cabinetry. French doors led to a narrow balcony. Captain Fallbrook sat behind a polished desk, writing. Boxes, stacked at both sides of the desk, were open and filled with what looked like ledgers and paperwork.

“Captain.”

He looked up from his work. “Miss Taylor. Enter. Take a seat.” He gestured to the empty chair facing his desk. She sat.

They had exchanged no more than cursory greetings in passing over the past two days, since he had found her in the north tower room.

She wondered if he would mention it, but he said, “Please forgive the state of this chamber. It was my uncle’s study and he left it in disarray.” He replaced his quill in the inkstand. “You wished to see me?”

“Yes.” Diana explained the charitable work she and her charge had been doing. “All the tenants we met with would benefit from a new delivery of coal.”

“Thank you for bringing this to my attention. I’ve been distracted by other matters of late—replacing roofs and improving drainage in the cottages—and this escaped my notice. I will see to it immediately.”

Diana was gratified by this proof of the captain’s dedication to his tenants’ welfare. “I have another proposal, sir.” She explained her idea to sew clothing for the poor. “I believe we can purchase the fabric and notions in the village, but we need funds.”

“A worthy project.” His features reflected his approval. When they had settled the details, he remarked, “There is something I wish to discuss with you as well.”

“Oh?”

“These past few months, to gain a better understanding of the affairs of the estate, I have been going through my late uncle’s papers and correspondence. It turns out I require your help.”

“ My help?”

“Uncle Thomas kept all the letters he received as well as early drafts of many—or perhaps all—of the letters he sent.” He gestured to the boxes surrounding them. “The sheer quantity of paperwork is voluminous.”

“Do you wish me to help organize it?”

“No, nothing so prosaic as that. I have a system and I am making slow but steady progress. However, this afternoon, I came upon drafts of letters he wrote to a company in Germany, along with correspondence and other documents that I cannot read. I presume they are in German.” He slid a folder to her across the desk. “Am I correct?”

Diana examined the contents of the folder. “These are indeed in German.”

“I didn’t even know my uncle was familiar with that language.” He shook his head. “I know he went to Germany this past spring, just before he died. I thought he had gone abroad on holiday, but this appears to be about a business matter. I need you to tell me what these documents contain.”

Diana hesitated. She and her sisters had been studying German for the love of the language and its literature, and a view to teaching it one day. But she still considered herself a novice. “Although I have a facility with the German language, I am not fluent. It will take me some time to translate these.”

“There is no rush. Just do the best you can. As this doesn’t fall under the scope of your usual duties, I will pay you an additional fee.”

“That is unnecessary.”

“It is necessary, and there will be no further discussion about it.”

Diana expected him to issue some parting words. Instead, he stared moodily into space. “If that is all, sir…? ”

“Actually,” he replied abruptly, “there is another matter.”

“Sir?”

“The other night when we returned from the north tower, you posed a question which I put off answering.” A distant look came into his eyes, an expression rooted in pain. “You asked me what happened to my aunt Sylvia and cousin Robert.”

“I understand if you’d prefer not to talk about it.”

“I should prefer, if I could, to never think or talk about it again. But it preys on my mind every waking and sleeping moment, and I expect it shall for the rest of my life.” He leaned back in his chair with a sigh. “What happened is no secret. I should rather you heard it from me than from one of the servants or local gossips. In the wrong hands, these things tend to grow and change, blending fact and fiction and supposition until they scarcely resemble the truth.”

Diana waited silently for him to continue.

He took a deep breath. “Three years ago, the last time I was home on leave, my cousin Robert wanted to go sailing. Aunt Sylvia wanted to go as well, but Uncle Thomas wasn’t feeling up to it, so I offered to do the honors.”

“ You took them sailing?”

His lips tightened as he nodded. “The weather was clear when we set out. But we had not been gone fifteen minutes when the boat started taking on water. To this day, I have no idea why. I’d taken that boat out the day before and it had been sound. I had no time to figure out the problem, however, for a strong wind suddenly blew up. I was busy bailing and adjusting the sails, and before I knew it, it had turned into a gale. Despite the weather, I could have brought us back to shore safely, if the boat had not filled so quickly. It became engulfed and turned over. Aunt Sylvia was not a strong swimmer. Robert could not swim at all. Both were swept away, along with the vessel. I don’t know how long I remained out there, battling the waves, desperate to find them, but… they disappeared. At last, I returned to shore, too exhausted to move or think. My aunt’s and cousin’s bodies and parts of the fractured boat washed up on shore the next day.”

“Oh.” Sadness seemed to creep into Diana’s every pore. “What an awful tragedy.”

“My uncle grieved for his wife and son. But he was also angry—at me. He saw the whole thing as my fault, and I could not blame him. If only I had not agreed to take them sailing that day. If only I had taken more time to examine the boat. Surely, he would have done so. His accusations cut me to the quick. I returned to my ship and vowed that I would never darken his door again.”

“I am so sorry.”

“We exchanged only a handful of letters over the last three years. Then I was injured and obliged to go home. I had no home but this one—my father was a clergyman and when he died, the vicarage went to the next incumbent, as usual. In June, when I returned to Pendowar Hall, I thought my reappearance and my uncle’s animosity towards me might be the reason behind his distracted, distant mood. I asked no questions. We kept to our separate corners of the house. When his body was found on the shore below the cliffs—well, you know the rest. Knowing that he killed himself over the deaths of his wife and son is a burden of grief and guilt I carry with me every moment of every day.”

Diana’s soul ached as she absorbed this tale and observed the captain’s sorrow in relating it. “You have suffered grievous losses. But you cannot be certain that is the reason behind your uncle’s death. And you cannot blame yourself for what happened to your aunt and cousin.”

“I can and I do.”

“The boat was faulty, not you.”

“I am a sailor, Miss Taylor.” Taking a deep, pained breath, he briefly closed his eyes. “I should have known the boat was unsound before setting sail. ”

“How could you have suspected as much? You said the boat had been fine the day before.”

“That is no excuse.” He clasped his fingers tightly, then loosened them. “I should have checked it more carefully. I should have known better than to take them out that day at all.”

“How could you have foreseen the turn in the weather? You said it blew up out of nowhere.”

He glanced at her across his desk. “I appreciate your attempts to ease my conscience, Miss Taylor. But I accepted my part in this debacle long ago. I killed my aunt and cousin. And now my uncle, too. These are facts I cannot escape. I wish with all my heart that I could bring them back. But I cannot. The guilt and regret will haunt me all my life.”

Diana’s heart twisted with compassion. “Guilt and regret are like a cancer, Captain. They can eat one away from the inside if we let them. I know that all too well.”

“Do you? How?”

Hot tears burned behind Diana’s eyes. The words escaped despite herself.

“Because I killed my mother.”