Frost Hollow Hall (17 page)

I didn’t know what I was hoping for; some sort of sign, maybe, that he could hear me, that he knew I was nearby. I cupped my hands to my mouth. ‘Kit! Kit!’

A startled blackbird swooped from the bushes. The silence returned. Nothing moved. I was the only living thing out here, small and dark and shivering, in the middle of all this white.

‘Can you hear me, Kit?’

I hardly expected an answer. I thought of his bedchamber back inside, with the too-bright lamps and chairs pushed close together. And I pictured her Ladyship, all expectant, all lit up with love.

Would he come tonight? Would he
really
come? Or like last night, would his spirit choose to wait outside?

I hid my face in my hands and tried to breathe slowly. It was all too close. Too real. I felt sure I’d never get through the rest of the day, never mind the evening. Any scrap of excitement I’d had was gone. Now all I felt was dread.

26

The Ice House

The ice house was easy enough to spot. It was on the far side of the lake, set back under another thicket of trees. It looked like a hovel, with grass growing on the roof and a little crooked entrance set below some steps. I made my way over and pulled hard on the door. It wouldn’t budge an inch. Another good yank and it flew open with such force I went staggering backwards in the snow. I didn’t fancy it closing again, not with me on the wrong side of it, so I set off in search of a stone to prop it open. Just behind the ice house was the remains of an old wall. From it I chose a sizeable chunk of flint and retraced my steps.

A strange feeling came over me then, that I wasn’t quite alone.

I turned round. Something dashed between the trees. It was a woman, dressed in black, moving deeper into the woods. Twigs snapped underfoot. A bird shrieked. The woman stumbled and dropped to her knees. She had a shawl over her head and most of her face, and her skirts seemed to be caught in the undergrowth. She tugged hard. Even from where I was stood, I heard the cloth tear as she ripped her skirts free. Standing up again, she glanced over her shoulder like she didn’t want to be seen. I ducked behind a tree, heart pounding, and kept absolutely still. Bit by bit, I peeped round the trunk. The woman had disappeared.

With a jolt it came back to me. I’d seen her here before, on Sunday, as I’d waited for my go on the ice. Even now, when I was
meant
to be here, the sight of her still unnerved me. She’d looked like a person up to something. But I fought down the urge to sneak after her, since I’d have Dorcas on my back and Cook too if I didn’t get a move on.

Armed with my piece of flint, I propped the ice-house door open and peered inside. It was dank and dark, and as I stepped in it felt even colder than being out in the snow. Just above my head was a brick arched ceiling, underfoot was old wet straw. The passage was proper narrow; I had to stoop down and tuck my elbows right in. I prayed it wasn’t far.

Further in, the cold got stronger. I gripped the bucket and felt with my free hand. Ten feet in now and the bricks were slick with ice. Ahead was another arch. I kept going until the floor seemed to stop. As my eyes grew used to the gloom, I saw I was standing on the edge of a wide pit. It was full to the brim with something grey, like slush at the side of a road. I nudged it with my toe.
Ice
. Not the neat white blocks I’d pictured, but a great jumble of the stuff. Someone had left a shovel lying beside it, which I was grateful for since it meant not having to use my bare hands. I scooped what I could into the bucket, pressed it down hard, then put in some more ’til it was full to the brim and mighty heavy to lift.

All done, I turned to go. Up ahead was an oblong of daylight – the doorway! I was glad as anything to see it again, hurrying towards it with the bucket swinging against me. Of a sudden the light disappeared. The darkness was total. I stopped dead, my heart beating faster. For a moment, I wondered if I’d blacked out. But then I put out my hand and felt solid bricks on either side of me.

I was trapped.

I cursed that flipping door and the stupid rock that was meant to keep it open. My heart thumped wildly. I had to get out. I rushed at the door, ready to pound it with all my might. Then, just as suddenly, the doorway appeared again. Only now a figure stood in it, blocking my escape. The person saw me. They gasped and stepped back outside.

I hesitated. The person had gone part way up the steps and stood there, waiting. I inched forwards, seeing only the torn hem of a skirt and a pair of filthy boots.

‘Come out of there, for pity’s sake.’

I knew that voice. My stomach sank.

I went out into the daylight, blinking nervously. Mrs Jessop looked down at me from the steps.

‘I was just getting the ice for Cook,’ I said. ‘I’ve been as quick as I could.’

I wondered if she’d been snooping on me. But then I saw how rattled she looked, like I was the last person she’d expected to see.

‘You’d better get back,’ she said. ‘Don’t let me keep you.’

Mrs Jessop stepped aside so I could pass. Up close, she was short of breath. Her hair had come loose about her neck, and her frock was splattered in mud. Normally she was so stiff and proper; the sight of her now unnerved me. It was a job not to stare.

All at once I knew.

It was her I’d seen running through the woods, today
and
last Sunday. And here she was now, holding something tightly balled up in her hand. I thought it might be a handkerchief. But as her fingers tensed, it crackled like paper.

‘Tilly,’ she said as I sidled past her. ‘Don’t tell anyone you’ve seen me out here, will you?’

I coughed uncomfortably, unsure what to say. But I knew my place: she was the housekeeper and I was only a maid.

‘Yes, Mrs Jessop . . . I mean no, Mrs Jessop,’ I said.

Her eyes looked red and her nose all sore like she’d been crying. A tiny bit of me almost felt sorry for her. It must have shown in my face because she turned right away from me.

‘Go on then, go!’

‘But Mrs Jessop . . .’

‘Just go, will you? For once in your life, child, do as you’re told!’

Her voice sounded broken and strange, and it scared me. I raced up the steps and kept going, heading straight for the gate. The bucket thumped hard against my leg. I ran and ran until I was almost through the trees and out the other side and my lungs felt like they were on fire. As the Hall came into view, I slowed to a walk, Mrs Jessop’s words still ringing in my ears. She was up to something, all right, and flipping desperate about it. She’d have to be, asking
me
to keep a secret of hers, when just yesterday she’d near got me sacked!

And I remembered Eliza with her White Star advert, how she’d said it was a secret and I wasn’t to tell. The memory of it turned hot and sour inside me. There were too many blasted secrets flying around, and I was sick of being asked to keep them.

27

The Butcher’s Boy

Back in the courtyard, I noticed a white horse tethered up to the wall. The sight of it lifted my mood. Because it wasn’t just any old nag; this one belonged to the butcher. And right now I quite fancied seeing a friendly face.

‘Hullo? That you, Will?’ I called out, hopefully.

The horse flicked his ears but no one appeared. The yard was deserted. And then it came back to me, how we’d parted company without even a farewell, and I felt low again.

The back door opened just as I reached it. And there was Will. He was smiling from the tail end of something funny. He actually looked quite pleased to see me.

‘Here you are! Cook’s been searching all over for you!’

An odd thing happened to my stomach then. It was only a few days since I’d last seen Will, but he looked different: taller, smarter and, actually, I couldn’t help but admit it, rather handsome. Suddenly, it was hard to meet his eye.

‘What you doing here?’ I said.

‘Some sort of party tonight, apparently. An extra order for us.’

‘Good for you,’ I said, and though I’d wanted to be nice, it came out sounding bitter.

‘Now don’t get tetchy again,’ he said.

I put on my best smile. And it wasn’t that hard, since he was being all cheery and had clearly forgotten to be cross with me.

‘Anyhow, I paid a visit to your ma yesterday,’ he said.

My smile vanished. ‘
Why?
’

‘We had some chops going spare. Thought it might help. If you like, I can send something else by next week too.’

‘We don’t need no charity,’ I said.

‘Just for a bit, then, ’til you get paid or something.’

I stared at my hands as they gripped the bucket handle so tight the bones showed white through my skin. In truth, I was taken aback by such kindness. I’d not expected it, and I confess I wasn’t sure I deserved it. My nose started tingling, and I feared I might cry.

‘Thank you, that’s good of you,’ I said, eventually.

And I began to wonder if I’d got Will just a little bit wrong. He’d snitched on me, all right, made it my fault that we’d got caught at Kit’s gravestone, so that Mrs Jessop’s eagle eye was never off me for long, even though I worked here now. But perhaps he’d had his reasons. It wasn’t a joy being poor and hungry. I’d not wish that on no one. And I knew about loyalty too. There were times when I’d put my pa first just like Will had done with his.

I took a deep breath. ‘And was Ma all right?’

‘She was hard at the sewing. I didn’t stop long.’

‘Really? Was she?’ The day I’d left, she’d looked so frail and ill, I’d worried she’d never work again. This was glad news indeed!

‘Yep. Said she had enough work to keep her busy for a week.’

I was thrilled to hear it. And before I could stop them, the tears sprang up in my eyes. Will didn’t poke fun or say something smart: he stood quietly until I’d gathered myself, and though I still didn’t trust him completely, I found myself saying, ‘Can you spare me five minutes?’

He shrugged, all easy. ‘If you like.’

In truth, I was
that
desperate to talk to someone, and Will knew more of this strange business than anyone. On the far side of the yard was a row of empty stables. I put the bucket down and led him to the nearest one.

‘In here.’

I shut the door behind us. The stable was dark and dusty but it hid us from view. Will leaned back against the wall, arms folded like he had all the time in the world.

I took another great breath. ‘You said I’d find things out, working here. And I have. Only I can’t make sense of it all, so maybe you can help.’

‘Try me,’ he said.

‘Kit’s family still in’t right from him dying. His ma wears full mourning and his pa can’t sleep at night.’

‘So they took his death hard. That’s not so strange.’

‘But they keep his room like it was on the day he died. Even the pillow’s still got . . .’ I heard the catch in my voice and stopped.

Will touched my arm. ‘It’s all right. Keep talking.’

‘And there’s the fire too. It’s meant to never go out, only it went out on me, and her Ladyship got into such a state, I swear she turned into a madwoman.’

‘Over a fire?’

‘Honest to God.’

‘Maybe she just misses him. She didn’t have any other children, did she? I’d bet they were mighty close.’

‘That’s probably true,’ I said, thinking of the sketchbook I’d seen last night and all those ‘dear’s and ‘dearest’s written inside it. ‘And this party tonight, well . . .’ I hesitated.

‘Well, what?’

‘It’s a séance. But you in’t s’posed to know that.’

Will gave a low laugh. ‘Oh, my word!’

Now I’d let the secret out, I couldn’t stop. ‘Her Ladyship’s desperate to contact Kit. She’s not had a sign from him, not once in ten years.’

Will chewed on his lip and stayed silent.

‘Say something, then!’ I said.

‘Well, it’s just that . . .’ He looked at me. ‘She’s seen nothing and yet here you are, meeting his ghost in the lake, getting his ring and having these dreams about him.’

I felt myself go red. ‘Yes, I know.’

‘You’ve got to admit it’s strange,’ Will said. ‘I mean, you never knew him nor nothing. So why’s this all happening to you?’

I shrugged.

Because he trusts me? Because for once in my life someone thinks I’m brave and capable?

Not that I expected Will to understand.

He frowned. ‘So. Let me get this straight – is there a ghost here or not?’

‘Yes, there is,’ I said, with a shudder. ‘Lady Barrington might not sense it, but I sure as anything do. And it’s pretty angry at something.’

‘Any idea what?’

‘Not really. But I’ll tell you this, it don’t seem to appear in Kit’s room, and it in’t anything like the boy I dream about.’

‘So why would Kit save your life and then turn angry?’

‘That’s what I need to work out. But I wouldn’t mind betting it’s to do with her Ladyship. I mean, why hasn’t he shown himself to his own mother? It just don’t make sense.’

Will narrowed his eyes like he was sizing me up. I wondered if he’d believed a word I’d said. Then ever so gently, he pushed a lock of loose hair over my shoulder. I flinched like he’d slapped me.

‘What the heck you doing?’

‘You look tired, that’s all.’ He cocked his head to one side. ‘And I’ve got to ask, why are you wearing that ridiculous coat?’

I glanced down at the tatty old greatcoat. True enough, it looked worse than ever next to Will’s smart grey coat and matching cap. I supposed he always looked that dapper on his delivery rounds, but a mean little voice in my head wondered if he was all done up just to impress Dorcas or Gracie.

‘Cook gave it me. I’ve been to get ice,’ I said. And as Will knew so much already, it wouldn’t hurt to tell him. ‘The housekeeper was up there, acting all strange. She told me not to say I’d seen her.’

‘Well, well, well. I wondered when you’d mention her.’

‘I try to keep out of her way, but she’s always watching me.’