Murder At Rudhall Manor (9 page)

Rudhall Manor was in mourning.

Lady Sedley floated around the house wearing a long black
silk dress cut enticingly low. Her chalky complexion contrasted so well with
the black that she could have blended in with the walls.

She finally sank into a pale pink armchair placed near the
window in the morning room and expertly arranged her head in such a way that
the bright sun bathed her skin in the most flattering light. She spent the rest
of the day watching the snow melt with an occasional well-timed tear leaking
down one green eye.

Elizabeth, on the other hand, did not sink into a single
chair the entire day. Instead, she marched purposefully around the house
wearing a simple high neck morning dress with a stern collar and lots and lots
of buttons.

The servants took one look at her tightly scraped back
blonde hair and cowered in the kitchens sending only the bravest to serve her.

Peter Sedley, the spanking new lord of the manor who had
recently been slapped with numerous unwanted and futile titles, slinked off to
the animal house where he spent the day twitching, flickering and lurching
amongst nests and things.

Lastly, Ian percolated for a while on the couch in the
library until he nodded off with a half-finished cigar clutched between his
maroon fingers.

Meanwhile, Lucy spent the day gently simmering on the bed in
her room. She had spent the last few hours peering at the large window above
her desk watching the sun lazily drift by, finding shapes in the clouds and
counting grey pigeons.

A thin blue quilt was flung across her legs keeping away the
slight nip in the air. A black band tied to her arm kept slipping down to her elbows,
and the pillows stacked up behind her back were flattened from lying against
them for so long.

On the side table next to her untidy bed sat a fresh apple
core, a flickering candle whose melted wax had leaked onto the wood, a cup with
dregs of cold tea and a few colourful threads.

After so many hours of idleness, her face had relaxed into a
blank, almost spiritual expression. Her mouth hung partially open, her eyes
were glazed and unseeing, while her fingers listlessly tweaked a pug's ear.

And it wasn't just her feeling languorous that day. A sort
of lethargy had shrouded the entire house ever since the funeral. The walls
seem to sulk, the curtains wilt, and as for the furniture … why, the chair was
as depressed as could be and the beds seemed to creak in the most pathetic
manner.

Lucy picked up the apple core and nibbled on it. She had
abandoned the idea of disguises, but that did not mean she had abandoned the
investigation.

No, she had yet another plan.

She turned towards the window. The sun had finally dived out
of sight, and a far away yellow lamp glowed like an orb in the dark landscape.

She stared at the glistening black glass wondering what hour
it was. The dinner bell rang that very moment jerking her awake. Her eyes
unglazed and her back straightened.

It was time.

"My poor head," Lucy moaned as she lurched into
the kitchen.

The cook's face softened slightly.

"I don't think I can join the family for dinner,"
Lucy continued, her hand stroking her temple. She squinted at the cook
hopefully. "Is there something small for dinner that I can take to my
room? I think I am going to retire early tonight."

Rose bared her teeth at the cook in warning.

Torn, the cook looked from Rose to Lucy. Finally, she
pressed her lips together and taking out some bread and cheese placed it next
to the meat pie that was meant to be carried into the dining room for the
family.

"Is that for me?" Lucy asked in a small voice.

The cook grunted and turned back to poke the fire. Rose,
too, ignored Lucy, choosing to pummel the dough instead.

Now that no one was looking at her, Lucy's back straightened
and the pained, pinched look vanished from her eyes. She gleefully picked up
the meat pie and pretending not to hear the cook's shout to take the bread
instead bounded back to her room.

Once inside she pulled out a dark blue shawl and laid it on
the floor. She put a small cushion, a thin grey quilt and the meat pie on top
of the shawl and tied it all together. Throwing the bundle over her shoulder,
she slithered out of her room.

The family was busy eating dinner and the servants busy
serving them, which was why Lucy was able to stroll across the hallway and into
Lady Sedley's rooms without being seen by a single soul.

Lady Sedley's room was impressively large … and cold, Lucy
added to herself, as a thin worm like fog escaped her mouth.

She craned her neck. The ceiling was high with a large damp
patch in the shape of a broom adorning the centre.

Massaging the muscles in the back of her neck, she eyed the
dull rose curtains speculatively. They seemed thick, broad and long enough to
conceal a person effectively. She pushed them aside and was disappointed to
find no bay window.

She turned back towards the room.

The carpet matched the curtains. They, too, were a dull rose
colour patterned with soft green leaves.

She moved closer to the long fragile dressing table placed
in the corner. A tallow, burning in a long silver candlestick placed in the
centre of it, illuminated the various thingamabobs lying on the table.

She peered at the glittering pearl comb, sniffed a pot of
rouge and frowned at a glass bottle labelled ‘Moonlit Drops’.

She reluctantly put the pomatum for unruly hair back on the
table and turned her attention towards the large four poster bed.

She paled. And it wasn't the pastel pillows and lacy
cushions sitting uncomfortably atop a somewhat masculine looking bed that
sucked all the air out of her.

No, it was a sharp faced woman wearing an old fashioned ball
gown and a towering powdered wig hovering three and half feet over the bed that
petrified her.

"My dear, Miss Trotter," Aunt Sedley said in
ghostly sarcasm, "can it be that you are frightened yet again? I thought
we went through this business the last time."

"Glug," Lucy managed.

Aunt Sedley lay down in mid-air and rested her chin on her
palms. "Oh, smooth your hair. I don't like seeing it wave at the roof. It
makes you look eerie."

Lucy grabbed her terrified hair and forced it back into a
bun.

"Better," Aunt Sedley commented. "Now, how
far have you progressed in your investigations?"

"Glug."

Aunt Sedley snapped her fingers. "I don't have the
luxury to hover until you get over your unreasonable fear, girl. Now, form
coherent sentences and tell me your plan."

"I followed Lady Sedley this afternoon," Lucy
wheezed out. She was still reeling from the ghostly vision, and the sound of
her own voice surprised her so much that she was spooked into silence once
again.

"You followed her and … what did you see?" Aunt
Sedley asked in a gentler, more encouraging tone.

A deep steadying breath later, Lucy blurted out, "She
met Peter near the old stables, and from the conversation I gathered that she
and Peter were innocent. She thinks it could be one of her other children who
have killed Lord Sedley."

Aunt Sedley rolled on her back and produced a ghostly cigar.
"Then what, pray tell, my lovely child, are you doing in Lady Sedley's
room. Didn’t you cross her off your suspects list?"

Lucy shook her head. "What if she knew that I had been
following her? Lord Adair said that Peter saw me. What if they staged the
entire conversation for my benefit?"

Aunt Sedley blew rings of green smoke. "Aren't you a
clever thing?"

Feeling braver, Lucy said, "My plan is simple. I am
going to hide under the bed and wait for Lady Sedley to spill all her secrets
in the arms of the valet."

Aunt Sedley nodded appreciatively. "If not a
confession, then Margaret may let slip a few clues under the valet's
adventurous fingertips."

Lucy blushed.

Aunt Sedley rolled back over and waved the cigar in her
direction. "Move, Miss Trotter. Go on … get under the bed. Stop mooning
about."

Lucy opened her bundle and unpacked the things. She wriggled
under the bed and lay down on the blue shawl. The quilt kept her warm, while
the cushion went under her head.

Aunt Sedley's head detached itself from its body and
appeared next to Lucy.

Lucy reeled back startled by the disembodied head hovering
next to her.

 Aunt Sedley didn’t seem to notice her discomfort. She
calmly inspected Lucy's handiwork and nodded her ghostly head in satisfaction.

"The bed has plenty of room underneath," Aunt
Sedley said. "It is a tad dusty though. Eat your meat pie. I will float
around and keep you company. I always hated eating alone when I was alive. It
made me feel most depressed.

Lucy obediently bit into the pie. It was delicious.

"You have a crumb on your chin," Aunt Sedley
pointed out.

Lucy wiped it off. "How is it that you don't know who
killed your brother? Didn’t you ask him?

"He said he was asleep when he was attacked. By the
time he came awake, he had already been stabbed and his assailant had
disappeared. Then he died."

"Well, didn’t you see the murderer?"

"I am not omnipresent, idiot. I was asleep at the
time."

Lucy chewed thoughtfully. "Do all spirits sleep during
the day?"

"No, we prefer the sunlight. As you can tell,"
Aunt Sedley said producing her disembodied arm and waving it in front of Lucy's
horrified face, “we are almost transparent and the sunlight makes us completely
invisible. Also the heat of the sun negates the coldness humans feel in our
presence, which is why most ghosts prefer roaming around in the daylight."

"So I could be sharing a bench with a ghost during the
day and I wouldn’t know it?"

"Precisely … or many ghosts. Some of them do like to
huddle together."

"But then why were you asleep when the murder occurred?
It happened during the day."

"Because ghosts that want to scare people sleep during
the day and wake during the night. I had to change my hours because of
Margaret. I was keeping an eye on her every night, trying to frighten her away
from the valet … for Roo Roo's sake."

"Thank you for explaining."

Aunt Sedley's hand detached itself from her body and flew
over to affectionately pat Lucy on the head.

Lucy's facial muscles froze in fright. She didn’t dare
twitch during the entire patting process.

Aunt Sedley screwed her head and arm back onto her hovering
body and floated up and towards the door, "Now, I am going to go and
listen in on the conversation in the dining room. I will be back … back …
back."

Aunt Sedley faded away, and with her departure heat whizzed
back into the room. But it wasn't enough. Lucy's fingers remained icy and
fearful. She rubbed her palms together and blew on it.

Her heart was still racing.

Aunt Sedley was a ghost.

She truly existed.

It had not been a dream.

Belatedly, Lucy pulled the quilt up and over her head in
fright.

Do not think about it she firmly told herself. Stop
trembling she ordered her hands. Perhaps she had fallen asleep while waiting
for Lady Sedley, she consoled her terrified mind. It had all been a dream.

She pinched herself and yelped. She was awake. She was not
asleep and had not been asleep.

A ghost had truly spoken to her.

She popped her head out from under the quilt, but her eyes
remained squeezed shut. She would panic later after this entire ordeal was
over. After the murderer was found.

For the moment she must focus on the task at hand. All she
had to do was stay quiet, be patient and listen hard.

An hour later she was still quiet, being patient and
listening hard, and with every passing moment fear seeped out of her skin
replaced by calmness and finally boredom.

Every sound was amplified in the silence. The howl of a dog
outside, a wife chasing a husband around in the village, and footsteps padding
along in the corridors...

Footsteps in the corridor? Lucy arose from the depths of
ghastly boredom, her ears twitching in anticipation.

Sure enough feminine feet entered the room.

Lucy deflated.

The feet were clad in sensible black shoes, the bottom of
the skirts were dull and grey, but most importantly the creature was whistling.

Ladies did not whistle.

It was a blasted maid who had come in to light a fire.

The maid soon departed and boredom skipped back into the
room.

The fire roared, and Lucy watched the dancing flames until
her eyes began to droop.

The sun was running around in circles in the sky and Lucy
was deliciously baking in the hot sand. The cool water of the sea occasionally
came over to give her toes a playful lick, while twelve fairies fluttered about
her holding golden plates laden with fruits, ices and cold meats.

It was a beautiful little spot far away from noise and
chaos. A tiny little paradise that was wrenched away from time and hurled atop
a happy little cloud that lazily drifted along the cornflower blue sky.

The sun smiled widely increasing the temperature by a few
more comfortable degrees. She rolled over drowsily and each and every sand
particle surrounding her rolled over as well. The clean dry sand was now facing
upwards and sparkling like new.

It was self-refreshing bed, an ingenious product created by
dreamland.

She smiled contently and reached for one of the colourful
drinks knocking against each other above her head.

The crystal glasses clinked and clanked together making
beautiful music while the vibrant coloured liquids in the glass bubbled and
twinkled in the golden light.

Her hand curled around a sapphire hued drink, but before she
could taste it a horrifying screech pierced the air.

The fairies flew away, the clouds rushed to cover the sun,
and the happy little cloud disintegrated.

She woke with a soft annoyed snort and rubbed her crusty
eyes.

There was barely any light wherever she was … and she was
lying on something hard.

She blinked away the sleep wondering if she had nodded off
in Miss Summer's downstairs cupboard with yet another stolen rice pudding.

It was another few moments before she came fully awake and
recalled where she was. Under Lady Sedley's bed.

And she was no longer alone. Someone else was in the room
with her.

Her heart started beating loudly as the familiar sounds of
someone getting ready for bed reached her ears.

Small delicate feet clad in white satin slippers neared the
bed.

That, Lucy thought, had to be Lady Sedley.

"Get the robe or I will fling you out of the
window," screeched a girlish voice.

That, Lucy nodded, was definitely Lady Sedley.

The ghost of Aunt Sedley manifested itself next to Lucy's
head and put a translucent finger to her lips in warning.

Lucy gulped. She was beginning to feel like a tightly corked
bottle of champagne that had just been shaken.

She willed herself to breathe slowly and softly.

Lucy willed and willed and willed. She tried to let not one
breath escape that was too loud, too wheezy or too gaspy. But as it often
happens, trying to breathe softly or not breathe at all makes one want to open
their mouth and gulp in air as if they were drowning.

Lucy was drowning, and before she knew it she was also
panting.

And she was not the only one who was panting. She had been
so focussed on the satin clad feet that she had failed to notice the two pugs
that had sneaked into the room behind Lady Sedley.

The pugs now moved their heads from side to side, no doubt
wondering why in the world a human being was lying under the bed and not on top
of it.

They spotted Aunt Sedley's disembodied head floating next to
Lucy's right ear and their short little tails immediately drooped, their fur
stood up straight and their tongues retreated back into their mouths. The pugs
now looked like confused miniature lions.

"Maggie, darling." The valet entered the room.

"I have been waiting," Lady Sedley breathed
huskily.

The sounds of kissing and sighs reached Lucy's ears, and she
wished she could see what was going on.

"The funeral is over," Lady Sedley was saying.
"It is a pity I have to wear black for the next one year."

"I adore you in black," the valet whispered.

Lucy nervously bit her lip. The pugs' tails had lifted
straight up and their squashed noses were quivering.

"Oh, don't," the valet squealed.

"What is it, Pookey?" Lady Sedley crooned.

"I have a thing here," the valet muttered.

"A thing?"

"You know what I mean," he replied sulkily.

"Oh, you mean the wart on your buttock?" Lady
Sedley breathed lustily.

Lucy soundlessly slapped her head. This she did not want to
hear.

Aunt Sedley shoved a finger in each year and whizzed out of
the room, her ghostly cheeks glowing in the candle light.

The pugs brightened up.

"Yes," the valet snapped.

"But you went to see the physician. You said it would
be fine today," Lady Sedley whined.

"Yes, well, things didn’t go well. He rubbed some odd
smelling lotion and now …"

"Let me see," she begged.

"No," the valet growled.

"Let me," Lady Sedley giggled.

Lucy watched in horrified silence as two pairs of legs raced
around the room. Soon the couple were bouncing on the bed as Lady Sedley tried
to pull the valet's pants down to inspect his buttocks.

Meanwhile, the pugs appeared to be storing up a volcano of
excitement as they looked from Lady Sedley and the valet fighting with a pair
of breeches to Lucy peeking out from between shocked fingers.

"Finally," Lady Sedley crooned.

A brief silence followed this gesticulation.

"Well," the valet broke the silence.

"Yes, it is a funny thing," Lady Sedley said.
"It has grown and now it is almost like a wrinkled red door knob.
Something I would like to grab and pull—"

"No," the valet said hurriedly pulling on his
breeches. "I think I will retire for the night. As you can see I am
indisposed—"

"You do not approve of my new white silk chemise
then?" Lady Sedley asked throatily.

Lucy twitched as a black silk robe pooled near her worried
nose.

 At the same time the pugs seemed to have realised that
Lucy was surrounded by crumbs of meat pie. They started sniffing in delight.

The valet sucked in a breath of appreciation.

The pugs bent their front legs and raised up their behinds.

The valet stepped closer to Lady Sedley. "Perhaps if we
are careful."

The volcano erupted, and two identical puppies pounced on
Lucy in unrestrained rapture.

Lucy froze in horror while the pups tried to shove wet
tongues into her ears.

"My love," the valet gasped.

Yap, yap, yap barked the pugs in a paroxysmal of delight.

Lucy softly moaned in despair and closed her eyes.

When she opened them again, she found the valet and Lady
Sedley's face floating in front of her face.

"Out," they both snapped in unison.

Lucy crawled out on trembling legs.

"What were you doing?" Lady Sedley asked through
clenched teeth.

"Looking for the pugs," Lucy blurted out.

"You must have been under the bed for some time, so why
did you not alert me to your presence?"

Lucy looked away from the white silk chemise which was now
forever burned into her mind. She did not know what to say.

Lady Sedley snatched the robe off the ground and slipped it
on. She asked the valet to fetch Lord Adair and the rest of the family.

"I saw you romancing the valet," Lucy boldly
threatened. "I will tell everyone about it."

"They are not going to believe you, young lady, not
anymore."