Chapter 9 #2
The housekeeper was as stately and sour as yesterday, and yet, in the fresh light of the morning, Judith could see that her green eyes were bloodshot and tired.
It was a hint that Trebellow’s disclosure was correct, and that Mrs Ulrich did not have full mastery of herself.
Judith was aware of a sharp sympathy, but she put it aside.
The housekeeper’s weary appearance could also be further proof that she had been prowling around late at night, up to no good.
Judith paused with the cup at her lips, thoughtful.
If it had been her footsteps, then why hadn’t Mrs Ulrich come down to the kegs and secret room?
Had she somehow known that Judith was there, petrified on the steps?
If that was the case, it would be fruitless to try to keep watch for any smugglers and catch them in the act.
It might be better to try and shock them into action and betray their hand. Then Judith could take a whole party of villains to Drumpellier, and he would be forced to demonstrate his gratitude.
“You requested my presence, ma’am?” The housekeeper stood with her hand on the doorknob, quite as if she were the mistress of the household.
The sight annoyed Judith, provoking her into bluntness. “Yes, I have a question for you, Mrs Ulrich: is the castle haunted?”
The housekeeper’s hand fell from the doorknob, a sight which pleased Judith immensely. After a moment, Mrs Ulrich said, “Yes, ma’am. There are many accounts of the Crimson Lady of Lanyon.”
Judith’s brows went up. Strangely, Mrs Ulrich’s words did not ring hollow. True, she was speaking of ‘many accounts’, which could well be hearsay, and a clever evasion. But her initial affirmative had sounded honest.
“And why does she walk, do you know?”
Mrs Ulrich hesitated again. “Some say she was Lord Lanyon’s lady love, the one he killed with a boulder, the Arloedhes Karek.”
“Then surely she would walk by the causeway?”
“Ghosts are not rational creatures, ma’am. They remain human in that way.”
Judith let that pass. “And where does she frequent, if not the causeway?”
“She is most often seen in the long northern corridor, but who’s to know where else she wanders?”
Judith heard the bell of truth and frowned. It seemed that Mrs Ulrich did believe in the ghost. Had Judith been wrong about the Cork of Doom, after all?
Then Mrs Ulrich leaned forward slightly, as if to convey a confidence, gripping her pale hands tightly together. “Best to keep away from the cellars too, if you can, ma’am. It’s true there’s a dreadful feeling down there in the dark.”
Judith narrowed her eyes at this blatant attempt to dupe her, even though the words did not ring empty. Well, it certainly was true that there was a dreadful feeling down there in the dark. She began to feel cross. Did Mrs Ulrich think she was stupid?
She linked her fingers together. “And what is the Crimson’s Lady’s purpose, I wonder? To chase off the unwanted, perhaps?”
Mrs Ulrich did not seem to register Judith’s sardonic tone, for she remained impassive.
“It is said, ma’am, that she doesn’t like those who have the Gift of Impacting.
It was that which killed her, and some say that she will curse any Impactor in her path.
But I don’t believe that myself. It is men who like to paint her as a weak woman crushed by a rock. ”
Judith stared, taken aback. This was loquacity—and truthfulness—that she had not expected. “Then how did she die, by your reckoning?”
“She sacrificed herself,” said Mrs Ulrich. “She carried the rocks of Arloedhes Karek herself to the end of the causeway to block the marauders. It is my belief she fought to the end, holding them at bay, until she died in the Northern Corridor at the hands of the new lord.”
Judith blinked. The housekeeper was not lying.
Only pity coloured her voice, though her face remained aloof.
And this was a very different version of events: the Crimson Lady not as a tragic lover, but a strong woman defeated.
Typical if the tale had been distorted to enshrine male power instead of womanly fierceness.
Judith pursed her lips, aware of some fellow feeling with Mrs Ulrich.
Then she became aware of another sensation: a subtle weaving of grief laying over her.
She shook her head briskly, annoyed. “A terrible story. Nonetheless, Mrs Ulrich, even if it were true, we cannot have her disturbing the cellars. What say you that we clear them out today, and put the Crimson Lady to rest?”
The housekeeper’s eyes widened, and the weaving of sorrow fell away.
Judith continued inexorably. “Kynver and Kade can help with the heavy lifting, if necessary. Even I will roll up my sleeves and lend a hand with a broom.” The thought of some solid, practical work was quite appealing, after all this poking around in the dark. “We can all help you.”
“The cellars are already cleared,” replied Mrs Ulrich, after a tense moment. “Do not concern yourself with them, ma’am. You need never go down there at all. It’s not a place for a lady.”
“And yet the Crimson Lady seems to be quite at home there! I feel as if I need to establish myself, Mrs Ulrich, as the only Lady of Lanyon. I do not like having a ghost competing with me or casting a pall of gloom about.”
This time, the housekeeper seemed to hear the underlying meaning, and she lowered her eyes. “No, ma’am. Indeed not, ma’am. But you must not humble yourself to help; it would be unseemly in a marchioness.”
“Before I was a marchioness, I was a rector’s daughter, and well used to being my father’s housekeeper,” said Judith bluntly. “I shall not balk at some cleaning.”
A flash of surprise crossed Mrs Ulrich’s face, quickly hidden.
Judith tipped her head. She was aware of a desire to be frank, and it was not—if she was honest with herself—just to provoke a reaction.
She wanted to see if it was possible that they could work together, after all.
“The truth is, Mrs Ulrich, that I shall have need of those cellars. My children are on their way to Castle Lanyon, escorting a lost roost of French vampiri. We need to prepare some appropriate quarters for them, well out of the sun. And we cannot have the Crimson Lady disturbing their nights.”
“A whole roost, ma’am?” Mrs Ulrich stared. “What of the Royal Edicts?”
“Precisely my point: the vampiri must be kept well out of sight. And I should mention that they may have been hibernating for many years and therefore be a little wild. However, they are accompanied by their queen.”
This news succeeded in shocking the dour housekeeper.
She drew a quick breath that might almost be called a gasp.
“Ma’am…! A French queen? The cellars won’t do for that.
We have other rooms, far more salubrious—” She caught herself and continued in more measured tones.
“Castle Lanyon is well accustomed to receiving royalty, after all.”
Judith was glad to see a chink in the stately armour, and finally a hint of housewifely pride.
“The French queen might be well pleased with the cellars and feel safer there. I will visit them later this morning and see for myself.” She paused and took the plunge.
“I expect any trace of the Crimson Lady to be quite vanquished by then. I hope you understand me? We cannot have such enchantments disturbing the peace.”
Mrs Ulrich’s eyes narrowed at her significant tone. There was a silence. Judith took a sip of her cold tea, meeting her gaze over the rim.
“Yes, ma’am.” Mrs Ulrich looked away. “I will do my best. I must also prepare a room for Baron Quarles, as he is due to arrive this afternoon—if you are still happy to permit his visit?”
Judith allowed the change of subject. “Has the baron not been informed of the castle’s change in ownership?”
“It seems not, ma’am.”
Or the baron was trying to push his luck.
Yet she would need to question him. He had, after all, been staying at the castle when Sgt Finlay had died.
It was intriguing that he was returning so soon—to the scene of his crime?
Judith sighed. “I suppose he may, if he has a standing royal invitation. Give him a room situated far from me, and please ask Trebellow to meet me in the Blue Drawing Room in an hour, so I can further confer with him.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
After further discussion, canvassing the state of the windows in the drawing room, among other matters, Judith dismissed Mrs Ulrich.
She curtsied and left with a return of her austere mien.
Yet Judith dared to hope that she had made a slightly better impression upon her redoubtable housekeeper, and that they might find some way towards conciliation.