Part 6 (2/2)
”Then 'twill do no harm for me to learn how to make one for myself.”
”I am a lawyer, not a cook.”
”What ingredients must I purchase?”
With ill grace, he gave in. ”Different cooks use different combinations, but most include artichokes and currants and dates. And sugar. And marrow bones. Nothing harmful.”
Artichokes grew in many a kitchen garden and marrow bones, too, were easy to come by, but the other ingredients were less common. Bexwith ate well for a mere steward. ”Sugar, currants, and dates? A rich dish for a man of his . . . years.”
”Too rich, indeed,” Grimshaw agreed, giving her remark a double meaning, ”but it did not cost him his life.”
”How can you be so sure?”
”There was another, more obvious, cause.”
”Ah. This ghost you wrote of.” She fixed him with a steely glare. ”I do not believe in such things.”
Grimshaw backed away, his eyes s.h.i.+fting nervously, never quite meeting Susanna's steady gaze. ”You may not believe Bexwith was frightened to death by a spirit, Lady Appleton, but I can tell you that the servants who were there most a.s.suredly do.”
”I would like to speak to them myself.” She toyed with her wedding band, which was somewhat loose of late, deliberately giving Grimshaw time to recover himself. As rattled as he appeared to be, it seemed likely he believed in the supernatural, too. ”Perhaps I can convince them they are being pa.s.sing foolish.”
”I will tell you all I know of them, Lady Appleton,” Grimshaw promised, ”but I fear it is precious little. Mabel Hussey meant to seek employment in Manchester and was living in Long Millgate soon after Bexwith's death.”
”And the odd-job man?” Susanna watched Grimshaw's face closely, thinking he was a surprisingly spineless specimen for a successful man of law. Was he always this pathetically easy to manipulate? Or simply clever enough to appear to capitulate when he realized further resistance might create greater suspicion on her part?
”I know neither his name nor his plans.”
”The scullion?”
”Richard Poulter. He had family in Preston. He may have gone back there. It was a terrifying time for them all. They will not want to return. If you must have servants, my advice is to find individuals who have never heard of Appleton Manor.”
”I will consider what you say,” Susanna agreed. ”Now, what can you tell me of John Bexwith? Was he from these parts?”
”Bexwith was a local man,” the lawyer conceded, ”but he has no family left, having outlived them all.”
”What qualified him to be steward?”
”An odd question, madam. Sir George thought him adequate and your husband kept him on. I know no more than that.”
”Who would remember how he came to hold such an important post at Appleton Manor?” she asked.
”No one I know.” Grimshaw's wariness was almost palpable again.
Susanna favored him with a rather grim smile. ”One last matter, Master Grimshaw,” she said as she donned her soft, leather gloves in preparation to leave. ”I have told you already that I do not believe in ghosts, but since many hereabout seem to, I would like to find out all I can about this spirit who is alleged to haunt my house. I am told she is the ghost of a girl named Edith.”
Grimshaw's start of surprise checked Susanna's departure. She studied him carefully for a long moment.
”Have I come to an erroneous conclusion?” she asked, knowing full well that Effie Denholm had confirmed her guess as to the ident.i.ty of the ghost. ”When I heard the way my late father-by-marriage died, it did seem that the most likely person to be haunting the stairs to the solar would be that poor girl he'd been chasing when he fell.”
Grimshaw cleared his throat. ”Edith, you say?”
”I was informed that was the poor wench's name, but I pray you, Master Grimshaw, tell me who is it that you thought had come back to haunt Appleton Manor.”
He ran trembling fingers through his thinning hair and said, more to himself than to her, ”Jane. I was sure it was Jane who had returned from the dead.”
”Jane?” That was a common enough name, but not one that Susanna could remember hearing before in connection with Appleton Manor.
Grimshaw nodded, still avoiding her eyes. ”Sir George's fifth wife.”
”And why did you think her a likely ghost?”
Grimshaw did not answer directly. He was still muttering distractedly to himself. ”The servant that saw it would give no ident.i.ty to the spirit. She did but describe its terrifying presence, how it seemed to float on the stairs, all garbed in white, billowy stuff.”
With luck, Jennet was even now quizzing Grizel about what she'd seen. Or what she imagined she'd seen. Ghost stories all had a suspicious sameness.
”Tell me about this Jane Appleton, Master Grimshaw. How did she die?”
”Did your husband never mention Jane to you?”
”Why should he speak of her? She must have married his father long after Robert had left Lancas.h.i.+re.”
Grimshaw's agitation increased. He rubbed his chin, then doubled his hand into a fist. ”She'd been meant for him.”
”Speak plainly, Master Grimshaw.” All this wavering made her impatient. ”I do not understand you.”
”Jane was to have married Robert,” the lawyer blurted.
This was news to Susanna, but she managed to hide her surprise. ”Go on.”
”After his son went south, Sir George declared he'd wed the la.s.s himself. She was a pretty young thing and had a goodly dowry and he was always eager to acquire more wealth.”
”So, he married Robert's intended bride.” It did not particularly surprise Susanna that Robert had never mentioned the girl to her. Given the way marriages were arranged, their own included, handled by the families or guardians of those concerned, it was possible Robert had never met Jane. It was even possible he'd never been informed that she was under consideration as his future bride.
”How did Jane die?” Susanna asked. ”And when?”
”During the epidemic eight years past.” Grimshaw's eyes betrayed a deep sadness that made Susanna think he had lost loved ones at the same time. Indeed, the mysterious illness called the sweat had left few families unscathed.
”Her little daughter died with her,” Grimshaw added, ”a babe of less than a year.”
That, too, was news to Susanna. Robert had, briefly, had a sister. With an effort, she concentrated on the present, filing away these new revelations to consider at a later time. Robert was not here for her to question about Jane, but there might be more she could learn from Grimshaw.
”If she died of the sweating sickness,” Susanna said slowly, ”then why would anyone think she'd return to haunt the house, and years after her husband's death, at that?”
Grimshaw ran one finger under the edge of his ruff, as if it suddenly felt far too tight. His voice sounded choked. ”Did she wait? I do wonder, for when I first heard what had happened to Bexwith, I could not help but think that it might be the second time she'd come back from the dead to cause a man's death. Sir George fell from those very stairs, fell and broke his neck. Some might ask why.”
”They did not at the time.”
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