Page 19 of Winterset
I had the sudden urge to see the manor by the light of day and take stock of everything that needed to be repaired.
Not wanting to wake Charlie, I dressed myself, grabbed my notebook and pencil, then crept down the darkened corridor toward the staircase. It was still early, so the candles had not yet been lit, but that was preferable, considering their off-putting odor I’d noticed last night.
I opened my notebook and wrote:purchase wax candles, then closed my notebook around my pencil and descended to the darkened entrance hall. When I reached the base, the dining hall door opened, and Mrs. Owensby stepped into the entrance hall.
“Good morning, Mrs. Owensby,” I said.
“Mr. Jennings!” She startled, clutching her heart. “You’re awake early.”
“As are you.”
“I’ve not yet seen your manservant. Shall I fetch him for you?”
“No need. I am well enough dressed for the day, am I not?”
“Indeed,” she said even as she eyed my unshaven face with a disapproving look that reminded me pleasantly of Mother. “But a servant should rise before his master. I will wake him and issue a lecture.”
“There’s no cause for a lecture,” I said. “My usual schedule has conditioned him to both rise and retire late. Let Charlie sleep.”
Mrs. Owensby’s disapproval deepened into a frown, but she said nothing more on the subject.
“Shall we get on with it, then?” I said.
“Get on withwhat, sir?”
“Our tour, of course.”
“Surely not before you’ve eaten breakfast.”
I touched my stomach, which was still protesting last night’s meal. “After such aheartymeal last night, I have no appetite this morning. And I wish to see every inch of Winterset, so we best begin straightaway. We can start where we left off yesterday, on the ground floor, and work our way up to the attic.”
“You don’t wish to tour the attic.” She shook her head.
“Of course I do.” I didn’t know why that would surprise her. “I intend to survey every inch of this estate.”
“But the attic is ... well, it is haunted, sir.”
I fought a sigh, not wishing to endure another day of my housekeeper’s games. Mrs. Owensby was like the matchmaking mamas in London, the way she persisted in toying with me. Perhaps I should play along with her little games as I had with the matchmaking mamas. Then, at least, we’d both have fun. “Tell me more,” I said, tucking my notebook under my arm and my pencil into my pocket. “Are you acquainted with this ghost?”
“Indeed, I am, sir.Wellacquainted.”
“Capital.” I clapped my hands together, causing her to jump. “In that case, I would like an introduction.”
Mrs. Owensby’s brow furrowed. “I do not think she would be willing to accept your introduction. Now, if you will—”
“She?” I said, my attention piqued. “I have afemaleghost living in my house?”
Mrs. Owensby blinked, her eyes unnaturally wide.
Oh yes. Teasing Mrs. Owensby was vastly more enjoyable than being teased by her. “You must tell me now whether she is married,” I said. “I should hate for her husband to call me out.”
Mrs. Owensby looked at the floor, worrying her lower lip.
“That said, if she is unmarried, that, too, would be a problem. Can you imagine the scandal if Society discovered I was residing under the same roof as an unmarried lady? Tell me now, Mrs. Owensby,” I said, adopting a serious tone, “is my ghost married?”
“No.” She shifted her weight side to side. “Well ... she was almostmarried, once.”
“How curious,” I said, playing along. “My ghost is engaged, then?”
