Death of a Duchess, Nellie Steele [non fiction books to read .txt] 📗

comb down on the dressing table. “Leave it,” I instructed. “It is no bother.”

“Of course, Your Grace,” Ella responded, resuming her hair styling. In the mirror’s reflection, I could detect the reason for the door’s sudden and unexpected movement. I recognized the familiar dirty red dress and dark hair hanging around an obscured face.

Annie had visited to assess the new arrival. A new addition to the home could, of course, prove disturbing to her. I hoped she took Ella’s arrival in stride and did not pester the poor girl.

I fixed my gaze on her as Ella put the finishing touches on my hair. My eyes offering a silent warning to behave. Ella noticed the direction of my eyeline and offered another apology. “Next time, Your Grace, I shall be sure to latch it.”

I offered her a smile through the mirror. “It is not your fault, Sinclair. No amount of latching could have prevented it.”

She stared at me, an odd expression on her face. Best she was prepared should my silent warning not be enough for Annie, I reflected. Her lips moved, but no sound came out as she struggled to form a response. She settled on, “I’m not sure I take your meaning, Your Grace.”

I rose from my seat and faced her. “Have you heard any rumors regarding me? You have mentioned none, but I cannot discern if that is due to politeness bred into you or lack of knowledge.”

“Rumors, Your Grace?”

“Yes. You make speak freely, Sinclair. If you have heard tales of my unique ability, please acknowledge this.”

“I have heard no tales, Your Grace. Though, Lady Merton, my previous employer, was nearly a recluse for the latter part of her life prior to her passing.”

“I see, then you should sit down before I explain.”

“There is no need for that, Your Grace,” Ella assured me.

In discussing my ability, I have often found bluntness to be the best approach. Dancing around the subject often led to confusion or misunderstanding. Therefore, I launched directly into my explanation. “The dead often walk among us. Most people do not witness them, but I do. And I can communicate with them,” I responded, cutting to the chase. The admission took a harder toll than Ella was prepared for. She collapsed onto the chaise with my assistance. Her face turned deathly pale, her eyes wide and her jaw slack. I allowed her time to recover.

“Forgive me, Your Grace,” she said after a few breaths, still clutching my arm, “I… I…”

“I understand,” I assured her.

She swallowed hard and glanced at the open door. “The door…” she stuttered, staring at me, her eyes questioning.

I nodded in response. “Yes,” I responded.

“A ghost?” she whispered, the words sticking in her throat.

“Yes,” I confirmed, easing onto the chaise next to her and squeezing her shoulder.

She shook her head, her face paler than it had been already. Her eyes were wide and filled with fear. “There is nothing to fear, Ella,” I assured her, choosing to use her first name to soften the conversation. “She was only here to observe. I warned you only in the event that you experience some anomalies. Being a new addition to the castle, she is curious.”

“She?” Ella questioned, her eyes still wide with shock.

“The previous Duchess of Blackmoore,” I explained. “Duke Blackmoore’s first wife.”

Ella nodded slowly. “Is she… dangerous?”

“No,” I reassured her. “Beyond creating some mischief, she is not. And she would likely not target you with such behavior.”

“And you can… see them? See her?”

“Yes, I can see them and communicate with them.”

Ella sat silent for another moment. “Thank you for trusting me with this information, Your Grace,” she said.

“While secrecy is not my objective, I do ask that you do not spread the information about,” I requested.

“You may rely on my discretion, of course. And I apologize for my outburst.”

I waved my hand, dismissing her apology. “There is no need for an apology. The information is difficult to comprehend and accept. Your reaction is better than most. And I trust and appreciate your discretion.”

She squeezed my hand before standing. “How brave you must be, Your Grace. I am not sure I would possess the strength you display if I witnessed such things.”

“I am no braver than any other, merely accustomed to the situation.”

Ella offered me a tight-lipped smile and a nod. “Is there anything else before dinner, Your Grace?”

“No, thank you, Sinclair,” I answered, returning to the formal method of address with her.

She curtsied before departing, pulling the door shut behind her. I pulled on my gloves, waiting to determine if Annie would return. She had disappeared during my conversation with Ella. I wondered if she would return or if her attention was focused on prowling after Ella. The novelty of her arrival would intrigue her.

The curiosity displayed on Annie’s part during this encounter reminded me of my first encounter with her. Details flooded into my mind of my first experience with Annie.

One month after my arrival, on the eve of my birthday, I sat reading in my tower room late one evening. Nestled in the window seat, my book in my lap, I curled under a blanket. The quietness of the castle still amazed me. I found the stillness comforting. Engrossed in my book, I failed to notice the movement at the door.

 I glanced outside into the night sky. The moonlight bathed the late autumn landscape in a luminous light. The stars in the sky were plentiful. From my perch in the sky, as I referred to it, it seemed as if I sat among them.

As I gazed out of the window, studying the twinkling lights, a reflection of red caught my eye. My brow furrowed, and I turned my gaze to the doorway. There stood the specter of Robert’s first wife. She wore a red dress with black trim, the outfit she had died in. It was smudged with dirt and tattered.

Her black hair hung in tangles around her pale gray face. Her eyes sunk deep into her face; her lips almost blackened.