Read Online (A Charm of Magpies 1)The Magpie Lord by Kj Charles - Free Book Online
Authors: Kj Charles
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Crane put in, as Day’s eyes flicked to him.
“I have,” Day agreed. “Learned opinion holds that hauntings are just…shadows, like visible echoes, important or terrible events being played out again and again, without substance, like Chinese lantern shows. Very frightening, very uncomfortable for you, but not dangerous. Just a ripple in time, a meaningless repetition that will ebb away.”
His voice was soothing. Mrs. Mitching nodded slowly. “A ripple in time,” she repeated. “Well, I never.”
“If I had to guess,” Day added, “I’d say that Miss Brook might well have reacted to a very frightening experience with understandable panic. As you say, clothes do catch on rose bushes. I shouldn’t think it at all likely that there is anything to pose a danger to anyone. That said, you should still keep your staff away from the Rose Walk. These things seem to become more…fixed if people see them and believe in them, and I don’t suppose Lord Crane wants to be haunted by the image of his late brother.”
“In that, you are correct. The Rose Walk is out of bounds as of this moment.” Crane tapped a finger on the table for emphasis. “Nobody sets foot there on pain of dismissal. Please advise your staff, Mrs. Mitching, and I’ll tell Merrick to pass the word.”
He ushered the housekeeper out with thanks for her loyalty. The door shut behind her. Both men were silent for a few seconds as her footsteps moved away.
Crane said softly, “Anything in it?”
Day was rubbing his hands together, pulling at the joints. “I’m afraid there may be. She’s totally earthbound—that is, she’s not someone I would expect to pick up the kind of currents and images I talked about. And she believed what she said. She and Miss Diver saw something, the sensitive Miss Brook experienced something much stronger and more menacing. And possibly physical.”
“You don’t think Brook just caught her skirt on a rose bush?”
“I hope she did,” said Day grimly. “If she didn’t, you have a very serious problem. I’m wondering if this is the source of what’s so badly wrong in this house.”
“So when you said there was no danger…”
“That may have been true. Or it may not.”
The trader in Crane made a mental note that Day was a fluent and unrepentant liar, even as he picked at a loose thread on one of the embroidered chairs with the edge of a fingernail. “Is it your professional opinion that the ghost of my brother attempted to rape my housemaid? Is that actually possible?”
“I won’t know what it is, or what it can do, till I see it. Physical manifestation isn’t common, so hopefully it’ll all come down to the usual ingredients of a haunting: imagination and indigestion. Failing that, it’s most likely to be the echo in time I described. But failing that …” Day pulled a face, stuffed his hands in his pockets and walked over to the window. “This isn’t a happy house.”
Crane joined him, looking out at what should have been a beautiful vista of lawns in spring. The grass was long and rank, the trees crowding in. A magpie landed outside the window and cawed offensively, and there was a flurry of black and white and blue as a crowd of them settled on the grass.
“Five—no, six. Six for hell.” Day leaned on the window frame. “They were murdered. Your father and brother, I mean. It was the Judas jack, no question about it. I don’t want you to set foot in the library till I’ve had a chance to…fumigate it, if you see what I mean.”
Crane nodded. “Very well. What about Hector?”
“Don’t give it a name, we don’t know what it is yet,” said Day. “I think I need to be on the Rose Walk tonight. Can you make sure nobody else is there? And I may need some supplies, just in case there is something to deal with.”
“What sort of supplies? I’m not sure we have holy water. Or eye of newt.”
“I had in mind salt and iron filings, and I’d appreciate it if you could avoid
“I have,” Day agreed. “Learned opinion holds that hauntings are just…shadows, like visible echoes, important or terrible events being played out again and again, without substance, like Chinese lantern shows. Very frightening, very uncomfortable for you, but not dangerous. Just a ripple in time, a meaningless repetition that will ebb away.”
His voice was soothing. Mrs. Mitching nodded slowly. “A ripple in time,” she repeated. “Well, I never.”
“If I had to guess,” Day added, “I’d say that Miss Brook might well have reacted to a very frightening experience with understandable panic. As you say, clothes do catch on rose bushes. I shouldn’t think it at all likely that there is anything to pose a danger to anyone. That said, you should still keep your staff away from the Rose Walk. These things seem to become more…fixed if people see them and believe in them, and I don’t suppose Lord Crane wants to be haunted by the image of his late brother.”
“In that, you are correct. The Rose Walk is out of bounds as of this moment.” Crane tapped a finger on the table for emphasis. “Nobody sets foot there on pain of dismissal. Please advise your staff, Mrs. Mitching, and I’ll tell Merrick to pass the word.”
He ushered the housekeeper out with thanks for her loyalty. The door shut behind her. Both men were silent for a few seconds as her footsteps moved away.
Crane said softly, “Anything in it?”
Day was rubbing his hands together, pulling at the joints. “I’m afraid there may be. She’s totally earthbound—that is, she’s not someone I would expect to pick up the kind of currents and images I talked about. And she believed what she said. She and Miss Diver saw something, the sensitive Miss Brook experienced something much stronger and more menacing. And possibly physical.”
“You don’t think Brook just caught her skirt on a rose bush?”
“I hope she did,” said Day grimly. “If she didn’t, you have a very serious problem. I’m wondering if this is the source of what’s so badly wrong in this house.”
“So when you said there was no danger…”
“That may have been true. Or it may not.”
The trader in Crane made a mental note that Day was a fluent and unrepentant liar, even as he picked at a loose thread on one of the embroidered chairs with the edge of a fingernail. “Is it your professional opinion that the ghost of my brother attempted to rape my housemaid? Is that actually possible?”
“I won’t know what it is, or what it can do, till I see it. Physical manifestation isn’t common, so hopefully it’ll all come down to the usual ingredients of a haunting: imagination and indigestion. Failing that, it’s most likely to be the echo in time I described. But failing that …” Day pulled a face, stuffed his hands in his pockets and walked over to the window. “This isn’t a happy house.”
Crane joined him, looking out at what should have been a beautiful vista of lawns in spring. The grass was long and rank, the trees crowding in. A magpie landed outside the window and cawed offensively, and there was a flurry of black and white and blue as a crowd of them settled on the grass.
“Five—no, six. Six for hell.” Day leaned on the window frame. “They were murdered. Your father and brother, I mean. It was the Judas jack, no question about it. I don’t want you to set foot in the library till I’ve had a chance to…fumigate it, if you see what I mean.”
Crane nodded. “Very well. What about Hector?”
“Don’t give it a name, we don’t know what it is yet,” said Day. “I think I need to be on the Rose Walk tonight. Can you make sure nobody else is there? And I may need some supplies, just in case there is something to deal with.”
“What sort of supplies? I’m not sure we have holy water. Or eye of newt.”
“I had in mind salt and iron filings, and I’d appreciate it if you could avoid
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