Voices in a Haunted Room

Pettigrew Hall was more modern than Eversleigh. It had been erected just over a hundred years before when the great hall was no longer the centre of the house, and was a squarish solid stone edifice built round a court; and the kitchens, buttery and pantry were all underground. A magnificent staircase, which went to the top of the house, wound round a well as it went, so that from the very top landing one could look right down into the hall.

The drawing room was on the ground floor and it had glass doors through which the very beautiful gardens could be seen. The dining room, which was also downstairs, had similar views; and there were many bedrooms. The servants’ quarters were in the attic at the top of the house. It was richly furnished and there were several specimens of the Gobelin tapestry which had begun to be manufactured in France about a hundred years before and soon found its way into English country houses.

Lady Pettigrew’s taste seemed to me a little flamboyant; she had scattered pieces of marquetry all over the house; the hangings of the beds and the curtains were in the richest colours; and some of the ceilings had been painted with allegorical scenes. It was as though she wished to proclaim her importance to the world in everything she didso naturally it would be obvious in her home.

The room I was to share with David was next to that assigned to my mother and Dickon.

They were large and lighter than our Elizabethan ones and I thought them charming with their tall windows and marble fireplaces.

There would be several people staying at the Hall for the wedding. The Farringdons were of course there, being great friends of the Pettigrews; and Lady Pettigrew told us as she came up with us to show us our rooms-a very gracious gesture from such a grand lady and one which showed us how delighted she was to have us-that she was eager for us to meet the Brownings. They were such charming people and she was sure we were going to enjoy the company of Sir George and his wife Christine and their truly charming daughter Fiona.

David said when we were alone: “She is indeed an overpowering lady, and I fancy her daughter takes after her. But I don’t think she will be able to subdue Jonathan as Lady Pettigrew does his lordship.”

“I am sure,” I replied, “that Jonathan will know how to look after himself.”

“Oh yes. You can trust Jonathan for that.”

It was to be a grand wedding. Lord Pettigrew was very influential in banking and, I suspect, political circles; and that meant that the marriage of his daughter was an event of more than usual importance. And as Dickon held great sway in the same society there would be many people who would want to attend the wedding.

The ceremony was to take place in the village church in the morning, after which all the guests would return to Pettigrew Hall for the reception. Many would come down from London as well as from the surrounding country. Ourselves and the Farringdons and Brownings were the only house guests-though perhaps one or two might stay for one night, as Lady Pettigrew did not want them to leave too early after the reception.

When we went down to dinner that night we were greeted by the Farringdons-Gwen, John and Harry-and George and Christine Browning and their daughter Fiona, who was very pretty and about eighteen I should imagine.

“Are we all assembled?” said Lady Pettigrew, bearing down on us.

“Let us go in to dinner. I daresay you are all ready for it. Travelling is so exhausting.

I am glad you are staying with us and not popping in and out as I fear so many of the guests will be doing. How could it be otherwise? So many people want to see my daughter married.”

John Farringdon murmured that it was indeed a happy occasion.

“And none the less so because we have had to wait a long time for it,” added Gwen.

“Oh circumstances ... circumstances ...” cried Lady Pettigrew, waving her hand as though to dismiss these tiresome eventualities. She was of course referring to the death of Sabrina on account of which the wedding had been delayed. “Now let’s go in. George, will you take Gwen, and John, Christine. Now, Jonathan, I am going to make you very cross. You are not to take Millicent. David shall take her and you can take Claudine.”

I felt that ridiculous emotion as I slipped my arm through his. He gave me a one-sided grin and in some way I felt that we were conspirators.

I whispered: “I’m sorry to be the reason for making you cross.” He laid his hand over mine and squeezed it gently. “Just a brief contact such as this sends me into paradise,” he said.

I laughed softly. “Ridiculous as ever ... even on the eve of your wedding.”