Chapter 10
10
The days remained unseasonably cool and everyone grumbled that they’d never known a summer like it. As the month drifted by, and the weather failed to improve, she noticed how restless and irritable the Fairchild boys were becoming, cooped up inside. Even Olivia’s sunny nature and attempts to jolly everyone up were often met with scorn. Bashing out a stream of music hall tunes on the piano failed to raise a laugh from everyone except Benji – who thought that everything Olivia did was simply marvellous.
Clarence had a handful of chums over for a couple of Saturday to Mondays, and his mother got particularly excited about the possibility of a romance with the sister of an earl who was now part of his social circle. Louis returned from a military training camp that he was part of at university, and Benji filled two sketchbooks with drawings that he refused to show his brothers but allowed Olivia to look through. Every time she was asked her opinion of his artistic efforts, she remembered how Tanner’s kind words had buoyed him up and endeavoured to do the same. Besides, he really was rather good for a nine-year-old.
Having decided that Seth was a ghost, she made use of Sir Hugo’s extensive library and researched the possibility of the supernatural, but opinions remained divided. There was certainly an educated elite who believed in them but, equally, medical professionals who offered more rational explanations for the sightings, suggesting, for example, that they might be afterimages from overstimulated optical nerves. Whilst she was reluctant to abandon the refuge that was her tower, she felt decidedly less inclined to engage in her play-acting there, and uncomfortable that some ethereal spirit might even be watching her sleep. She still spent much of her time engaged in escapist daydreams and fantasy, but she did so in places Seth couldn’t float out to observe her.
However, she continued to interact with the voice, always well after dark, and even though it was usually only a brief exchange. The conversation would begin with a weary sigh or groan from him, which alerted her to his presence, and she generally tried to jolly him out of his mood by offering uplifting platitudes.
‘It’s hard to be cheery when you’ve had a gutful of misery, betrayal and death,’ he said.
It all sounded very ‘gallant knight’. Had he led a rampaging army into battle? Perhaps some friend of his had become a spy for the enemy and been tortured on the rack. Maybe he’d witnessed his people fall victim to famine or plague.
‘It can’t be that bad,’ she reasoned. ‘Promise me that in the morning, you will stand in front of the looking glass and smile – the biggest one you can manage, even if you don’t feel like it. You’ll be surprised how it lifts your mood.’ Could ghosts look in the mirror? she wondered. He seemed to think not.
‘I’m not taking advice on how to live my life from someone who is dead,’ he huffed.
It was the last straw for Olivia, who decided if he was so determined that she was the ghost, then she would play the part to the fullest. She jumped from the bed and swept up a wilting crown of gypsophila that she’d made in the gardens earlier that day, and grabbed the thin coverlet from her bed, placing it about her shoulders like a robe. Returning to the wall, she nestled close to the bricks and began a slow, mournful wail.
‘You do not understand my woes, for I am a poor princess beyond help. My lover has treated me ill and caused me to jump to my death from this very tower in my misery.’
She put her ear to the wall, wondering if he was still lingering. She had no idea what spirits got up to when they weren’t haunting exhausted thirteen-year-old girls. Perhaps he’d drifted to another part of the house and was terrorising the housemaids.
But after a beat, he commented, ‘Your lover?’ His tone was incredulous. ‘You sound about ten.’
Something occurred to her for the first time. ‘Can’t you see me?’ Surely, he was an ethereal mist able to pass through physical barriers such as walls, and could easily determine that she was not the age she was pretending to be.
He sighed. ‘No, but I can damn well hear you, and that’s more than enough.’ He paused. ‘Can you see me?’
‘No, you’re the other side of the wall.’
‘I would say float through and let’s have this thing out face to face, but I’m currently in nothing but a nightshirt and not in a fit state to receive anyone – certainly not royalty.’ His tone was distinctly acerbic. ‘And most definitely not a child.’
‘I’m not a child.’ She crossed her arms even though the action was apparently not visible to him. ‘I am a princess who?—’
‘Yes, yes, tossed herself off the tower after putting on her parts.’ She felt rather peeved that he was implying she’d had an unwarranted tantrum after such a dramatic betrayal. ‘And yet, I remain unconvinced that you are old enough to have had a lover and am not rightly sure royals ever lived at Merriford. Was there even a house here in medieval times?’
‘Absolutely. There was a Norman castle but it was demolished, and I was betrothed to the fair Lord… erm, Merriford, but he jilted me at the altar. In my misery, I climbed the tower, erm, which happened to be in the same place as this tower, and plunged to my death.’ It was a complete fabrication but he didn’t correct her. Perhaps he didn’t know.
‘Right,’ he scoffed at her fanciful tale. ‘Either you really are a crazy, lovelorn ghost, or my mind is in more of a muddle than I thought, and I think I prefer the first option. So, Princess Cordelia, if you’ve quite finished moaning about your love life – or rather lack of it – I’d appreciate you drifting off and wailing about it to someone else.’
‘Fine by me.’
‘Great.’
‘Great.’
‘And you definitely can’t see me through the wall?’ His voice took on a slightly anxious tone.
‘I’ll tell you what,’ she said, ‘you stay your side and I’ll stay mine.’ It was obvious neither of them wanted visitors, nebulous or otherwise.
‘Agreed. Now, if you don’t mind, I need sleep. Goodnight, ghostly girl.’ He still sounded irritated but she knew that his humorous form of address proved that he was not as cross as he was making out.