Page 24 of Harrowing Hall
Chapter Fifteen
“Maude?” Blake calledafter her. Or maybe from right beside her. She had no idea until she was through the door of Harrowing Hall, and the urgency she had felt to get there faded.
“What is it, wife?” Blake stopped her before she could go any further and slid slippers on her feet, his accent thicker than usual with his angst. Hisr’s rolling. “You shouldnae be about this castle without shoes, lass. It is far too chilly tonight, and the floor chillier still.”
“The bagpipes stopped playing.”
“I know. You said as much.” He stood and warmed her chilled hands. Surprise flashed in his eyes when he saw that candles had been lit when no one braved this hall, especially at midnight on All Saints’ Eve. “Are you sure the pipes stopped? As you know, they are playing outside tonight, so perhaps—”
“No perhaps.” Maude shook her head. “Every night they fade away peacefully.” She gazed down the hall. “Tonight, nearly the moment I said I’m here for good in all ways that matter, they just stopped.” Tears welled. “As though whatever I have been sensing left abruptly.”
“Might that not be a good thing?”
“I do not know,” she whispered. “If it were, why would I feel so sad? As though I just said goodbye to someone I loved? As if…”
She trailed off when a cool breeze blew several candles out.
Then a few more.
“My goodness.” She followed the candles as they seemed to lead her by blowing out. “Surely, this is my imagination.”
“Aye, mayhap.” Even so, he took her hand, supporting her every step of the way, whether this was ghostly or not. “I left the door open behind me, and a storm sweeps in, so the air from belowstairs as guests come and go could very well create a draft.”
Thunder cracked, and lightning flashed as if confirming his explanation.
“Perhaps a draft….” She drifted down the hall as if pulled. Drawn to something. “But I have a feeling it is more than that.”
Maude stopped and stared up at the picture of Lady Annabel, suddenly certain of something when the bells tolled midnight. When, as they said, the veil between worlds was at its thinnest. “There is no need to hang her there anymore at this time of year.” She shook her head and looked at him, less distressed than she had been moments before. Mayhap even at peace. “Nor is there any reason to close off Harrowing Hall.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know,” she whispered and looked in the direction Lady Annabel seemed to gaze at from her painting. “What is behind that door?”
“The chamber Lady Annabel eventually shared with her laird.”
“Might I enter?”
“Of course.” He handed her a candle, took one of his own, then held the door open for her. “All doors beyond the main one in Hallowing Hall are unlocked.”
“So no one resides in them?” She held out her candle but saw very little. “This whole hallway is open, but no one resides in the rooms?”
“They do on occasion. Mostly visitors.” He shook his head. “But they never stay in this room.”
“Why?”
“Either out of respect for the dead or because it spooks them.”
He lit several candles, illuminating just enough to stop her dead in her tracks.
“Blake.” She blinked at the portrait across the way, certain she saw incorrectly. It could not be. “Whoisthat?”
Blake looked from the portrait to her as she drifted that way. “That is a picture of Lady Annabel in her later years.” He took her elbow when she stopped and nearly swooned. “Why, lass?”
“Becausethatis the woman we saw.” Maude could barely believe her eyes. “Thatis the old fortune teller Jane and I spoke with. The one who vanished.”
“Are you certain?” He took the portrait down and rested it on the table between several candles so that they might see it better. “This was the lass?”
“Without doubt.” She was convinced. “Has Jane seen this picture? For surely she has been in this room over the years.”
