The Widow of Larkspur Inn (50 page)

“Forgive the obvious question,” he said. “But you’re from Ireland, aren’t you?”

“Kilkenny, sir. I came over when I was eighteen.”

“By yourself?”

“By myself.”

“I suspect there is an interesting story there.”

Her smile did not alter, but the violet-colored eyes were serious. “Interesting perhaps, sir, but best forgotten.”

“I understand,” he told her and received a look of appreciation in return.

“Here is Mrs. Hollis’s office,” she said, leading him to an open door on their right. Inside, Mrs. Hollis was seated at a desk that took up about a third of the small room. She looked up from a ledger in which she was writing and got to her feet.

“Why, good morning, Reverend Phelps,” she said, offering her hand over the desk. He stepped forward to take it.

“Miss O’Shea was kind enough to show me here. I hope this isn’t an inconvenient time.”

“Not at all.” Nodding toward a chair against the wall and adjacent to the front of her desk, she said, “Please, make yourself comfortable.”

“Thank you.” Andrew waited until Mrs. Hollis had taken her own chair again before sitting down himself. From the doorway the housekeeper asked if she could bring a tray.

“Would you care for some refreshment, Reverend?” Mrs. Hollis asked.

Andrew shook his head. “No thank you. I’ve already had two excellent cups of tea.”

Miss O’Shea left then, and Mrs. Hollis asked how he liked Gresham after so many years in Cambridge.

“Very much. I’m finding myself, little by little, learning to relax and adjust to the slower pace. Was it the same way with you when you moved from London?”

“Actually, life here was a bit frantic until we settled into a routine,” she replied, smiling. “But I’ve learned to enjoy the pace as well. And the quietness. I had never realized nights could be so quiet.”

“Nor so dark, without the streetlamps,” Andrew said. “But that’s rather nice too. My daughters and I enjoy sitting out in the garden some evenings and noticing how much brighter the stars seem.”

There was an awkward silence for just a fraction of a second. At least it was awkward for Andrew, for he suddenly found himself feeling an inexplicable bashfulness. Mrs. Hollis looked even more attractive than she had in the vicarage lane. The hair that had been covered with a bonnet that day was now drawn back into a loose knot. Rich auburn it was and provided quite a contrast to her emerald eyes. And the black gown, plain and adorned only with jet buttons, only heightened the color in her cheeks.

You’ve seen attractive women before
, he scolded himself silently. Some had been just as beautiful as Mrs. Hollis, if not more so. Why, now, were emotions stirring that he’d assumed to be dead?

“Would you rather we visit in the hall with the others, Reverend?” Mrs. Hollis asked, emptying her pen back into the jar. There were blue ink stains upon the thumb and forefinger of her right hand, but she seemed not to be aware of them. “I’m afraid my office is rather confined. It was a broom closet just last week, you see.”

Was I staring?
he wondered uneasily. “No, this is fine. It’s good to have a place to keep your work separate, isn’t it?”

Smiling again, she said, “Truthfully, most of my duties seem to be outside my office.”

“And mine as well.”

“But I do enjoy having papers gathered in one place and not scattered about in the living quarters.”

“And you can close the door to it whenever you wish.”
She’s too
busy for small talk,
he reminded himself.
Don’t take advantage of her
hospitality.

Andrew cleared his throat and got right to the purpose of his call. “I wanted to tell you how grateful I am for the encouragement you gave my daughter, Mrs. Hollis. It was very kind of you.” He told her how Elizabeth had started accompanying him on his calls in response to her advice to busy herself with something worthwhile.

“And as a result, she’s found something else to do that she seems to enjoy very much. She’s going to be tending two small children so their mother can support the family. I don’t know how long her enthusiasm will last, but she’s given her word to see it through until summer.”

“I’m so happy to hear that,” she smiled back. “And I enjoyed talking with her. Elizabeth is an intelligent young woman.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Hollis. Lately I’ve wondered if I should have told her so more often. If she’d any idea of her own worth, surely she wouldn’t have allowed someone like Mr. Raleigh to trifle with her heart.”

“You mustn’t blame yourself. Elizabeth’s barely out of childhood. It’s difficult for most women her age to see past a charming exterior.”

“He even had
me
fooled for a while,” Andrew admitted. “He was so personable, so bright and witty. Any father would have wanted a son-in-law like him … or so I thought.”

For a brief instant Mrs. Hollis’s green eyes took on a faraway look, and then she said, “It seems that many people who are deficient in character have an overabundance of charm. I wonder why that is?”

“I’ve noticed that too. Could be that people devote most of their energies to developing that charm and ignore the building of character.” He shook his head. “I never told Elizabeth, but my greatest fear was that she would elope with the young man.”

“I’m glad it didn’t happen. You know, I’m beginning to suspect childrearing becomes more difficult as they grow older.”

Andrew gave a little chuckle. “At least you’re learning that while your children are still young, Mrs. Hollis. I was completely blindsided.”

She seemed amused by this, and Andrew wondered if anyone had ever told her she had a graceful smile.
Probably her husband, God rest
his soul.
No doubt the poor man had adored her.

“I’ve kept you from your duties long enough, Mrs. Hollis,” he told her with reluctance. To his surprise, she seemed genuinely disappointed at his imminent departure.

“Can you stay a little longer?” she asked. “To be honest, I was hoping you would call soon. I’m afraid I’m in need of your counsel.”

“But of course.” Andrew lowered himself back into his chair and raised a solicitous eyebrow. “What is troubling you, Mrs. Hollis?”

“It’s concerning a ghost that is rumored to haunt this house and now is supposedly walking the streets … Jake Pitt. I don’t suppose you’ve lived here long enough to have heard about him….”

“Actually, I have.”

She sighed heavily at this, making him sorry that his answer caused her some discomfort. “I trust you’ve met the Worthy sisters, Reverend Phelps?”

“Yes, but I must tell you that they weren’t the first to inform me about the situation. And someone recently asked me to conduct a ceremony consecrating the road in front of his house. He claims to have spotted a ghost there.”

“That would have to be Mr. Hopper.”

Alarm must have registered on Andrew’s face, for she raised a reassuring hand from the desktop. “Everyone in Gresham has heard about it, so you haven’t betrayed a confidence. But may I ask—whatever did you tell him?”

“I’m afraid I was rather abrupt,” Andrew replied. “I said that the things of God were not to be used as superstitious rituals, and that I would not perform any such ceremony.”

“Do you think it did any good?”

“I wish I could say so. But Mr. Hopper refused to back down from what he saw.” Rubbing his beard absently, he said, “You know, I have to be careful of appearing to look down on the way of life here. But I can see that a sermon on superstition is needed very soon.”

There was little hope in Mrs. Hollis’s expression. “That is very kind of you, but I must warn you that Vicar Wilson preached two strong sermons in the same vein during his last months here. The people here are the salt of the earth, Reverend Phelps, but I’ve learned that most were practically weaned upon fables and superstitions.”

“I must try, though. Faith is of little use if everything is easy.”

“Forgive me,” she said with a self-effacing little smile. “I obviously forgot that.”

“Oh, I wasn’t preaching at you, Mrs. Hollis. I can understand your frustration.” He became curious then. “How did it affect your children—moving into a house with such a dubious reputation?”

“Fortunately, I was able to warn them of the ghost story before they heard it from anyone else. I’m afraid my son, Philip, enjoyed the attention, but to the girls it was simply a nuisance.”

Resting her elbows upon her desk, she leaned forward slightly. “The rumors started fading a bit, you see, as time passed, and people could see that we were brought to no harm in this house. Now this latest sighting has them all stirred up again. None of us, my lodgers included, can go anywhere without someone asking about Jake Pitt. Mrs. Temple, a widow who lives across from the lending library, stopped me in
Trumbles
to say that she’d heard a knife-grinding wheel just outside her window one night. And yesterday morning one of our maids found scatterings of elder twigs at each outside door.”

“Elder twigs? I’m afraid I don’t understand.”

“They repel ghosts, so the superstition goes. Obviously someone wishes to keep Jake Pitt within the bounds of the
Larkspur
. And the general consensus seems to be that if we had taken care of the matter when we first moved in here, he wouldn’t be menacing the streets right now.”

Andrew shook his head. “I wasn’t aware of that. Then it seems this has gone beyond superstition into mass hysteria. Why, just last Thursday …” his voice trailed off as he berated himself for starting to say something that would only add to her worries. “Well, it doesn’t matter.”

“Does this have to do with Jake Pitt, Reverend Phelps?”

“Just another case of hysteria,” he reassured her. “Forgive me for even bringing it up.”

Her green eyes became pleading. “Please continue. I can’t feel any worse about it than I do now. And I would like to keep the other people who live here informed so they aren’t taken by surprise by someone else’s revelation.”

“Well, if you’re certain you want to hear it.”

“I am. Please.”

Andrew blew out a long breath. “Are you acquainted with Mr. Seaton?”

“Doesn’t he pastor a small Wesleyan chapel across the river?”

“He also owns a small dairy farm, like so many others here. I was making calls last Thursday and came across him mending his front gate. We struck up a conversation, and before I knew it I was invited to have lunch with his family.” Andrew gave her a little smile. “Even pastors of differing denominational backgrounds love to compare notes, much the same as two schoolmasters or two bakers would do. Anyway, he told me about a member of his congregation, a young woman, who related somewhat of a dilemma to him.”

He paused. “Are you quite sure you want to hear this, Mrs. Hollis?”

“Yes … please,” she nodded. “Go on.”

“Well, one of the woman’s younger brothers, who recently suffered a broken foot, has been having nightmares having to do with a ghost. After one such incident, the boy asked her to give him her word that she wouldn’t tell their father what he was about to confide in her. With some reluctance she gave it, and the young man admitted to being accosted by a ghost while he and another brother were in the process of playing some sort of prank. The only reason I mention this now is that the sighting supposedly took place on Worton Lane.”

He noticed then that her scattering of freckles now stood out boldly against a background the color of whey.

“Mrs. Hollis?”

“Do you happen to know the boy’s name?” she asked, her lips barely moving.

“Why, Mr. Seaton did not mention it.” Andrew moved up to the edge of his chair. “Are you all right, Mrs. Hollis?”

“Yes, it’s just …” She rubbed her temple with an ink-stained finger, leaving a black smudge. “I have a terrible suspicion about all of this.”

“Mrs. Hollis?” Andrew reached out to touch the hand that still rested on the desktop. “Please forgive me—I’ve upset you.”

“Upset me?” Mrs. Hollis blinked once and looked up at him again. “Oh, please don’t think that, Vicar. You’ve been a tremendous help.” Again she rubbed the temple. “But I’ve developed a headache, I’m afraid. Would you mind if …?”

Getting to his feet, Andrew said, “Of course not. I’ll show myself out. But may I ask Miss O’Shea to see about you?”

“If you wish … thank you. And again, I do appreciate your visit.”

How can you help it, with all the cheer I’ve spread about in here?
Andrew thought miserably as he moved up the corridor toward the hall in search of the housekeeper.

Chapter 30

“But I just need to close my eyes for a moment,” Julia said when Fiona insisted that she leave her office. “I can do that right here. It’s just a headache.”

The housekeeper’s will prevailed, though, and Julia allowed herself to be led like an invalid down the corridor to her room. She balked at going to bed, however, and insisted upon settling in a chair. After helping her prop her feet on the footstool, Fiona said, “Now, missus, you rest, and I’ll bring you some tea.

Mr. Hopper claims to have seen three boys that night,
Julia thought when she had privacy again.
Three boys in addition to the ghost.
Her memory carried her back to a gathering at the kitchen table around a platter of apple strudel. Fiona was disturbed about some pranksters who were tipping over the Keegans’ shed.
And there were two men present—Mr. Durwin and Mr. Clay
.