“Anne, I want to find a rector and marry you while we are here in the Lake District, and then I would like to extend our stay for another month to rest from all the travel and drama we have been through.”
Anne looked at him, surprised. “This feels precipitous. What about Mother?”
He studied her face. “Do you want your mother present? Will you miss having her at your side?”
Anne did not answer immediately. “Mother has never liked me very much. She wanted a son and ended up with a weak daughter.” She continued to shell her egg. “It would be better if Mother were not present. She would rail at me. Since I am a woman, my only use to her is to marry high, a man with a title.”
Richard did not smile. “A second son does not meet her high-minded machinations.”
Anne shook her head. “No, it does not.”
Richard looked thoughtfully at her. “Then let us marry here tomorrow. After the ceremony, we will have a special luncheon and then start our new life together.”
She was smiling at him now, and he was grinning at her.
“Very well. After I finish eating, I will ride to the nearest rectory and arrange for a service at ten o’clock tomorrow morning.”
He began to eat his breakfast.
When Elizabeth and Darcy entered through a side entrance, returned from their morning walk, Richard called out, “Darcy, Anne, and I have decided to marry tomorrow morning. I ride out as soon as I finish my breakfast to find a rector.”
Darcy chuckled. “This is so like you, Richard. If something is to be done, it should be done immediately. Very well, I will ring for the butler.”
Darcy questioned the butler. “Wilkins, where is the nearest chapel?”
“That would be St. Martin’s Church, sir. We are part of the Windermere parish. The rector is a fine man. Do you wish me to have him call on you, sir?”
Darcy declined the offer. “Richard needs the address and instructions to find the church. He is planning to get married in the morning. Also, have Cook prepare a wedding breakfast for after the service. Let her know she may hire extra servants if needed to assist her with the preparations. That is all.”
Richard turned to Anne. “My dear, it is settled. Tomorrow we will be husband and wife.”
The Darcys and their guests were assembled at the breakfast table. Darcy finished his breakfast and then addressed his guests. “It looks to be a fine day today. I propose a small expedition. Calgarth Hall lies near Troutbeck Bridge, about thirty minutes away by carriage. It is an old house from the sixteenth century that is still in use. It is not only a fine house, open for the public to view, but there is a singular legend associated with it.”
He looked to his sister and nodded, as if to underscore the peculiarity of the house.
“A legend? Fitzwilliam, are there witches involved? Lizzy and I have been reading about the Pendle Hill witches of Lancashire. I wish to go with you when you tour the house.”
Darcy grinned at her eagerness. “It is said the house is haunted by the Calgarth skulls. I thought it would be interesting to tour the house, and then we could have a picnic in the gardens. It is built on the eastern bank of Lake Windermere.”
The ladies murmured their interest, saying they had never been in a haunted house and were eager for the experience.
Darcy, satisfied that he had captured their interest, continued, “Very well then, if we set out within the hour, we may tour before luncheon.”
Richard took Darcy aside. “I will meet you at the Hall. I am going to arrange the wedding service with the rector and then will ride directly there.”
Half an hour after leaving the leased house, the cavalcade reached Calgarth Hall. Elizabeth stood on the green, looking up at the grey stone walls that rose stark against the green hills. The windows were dark and rectangular, and the housewas uninviting. There were no flowers planted in the beds, and the entire park surrounding the house had an abandoned look. However, she noticed that the lawn was clipped short and the walks were swept clean.
After Darcy handed Georgiana down from the carriage, he rapped on the door. They were left to wait on the front stoop for several minutes before a maid came to answer. The group was shown inside, and the housekeeper, a stout, cheerful woman, led them through a succession of rooms. Elizabeth was disappointed that the housekeeper looked so welcoming and normal. They admired the oak paneling, dark and polished by age, and the elaborate plaster ceilings, traced with patterns of leaves, vines, birds, and animals. A great chair sat before a wide hearth, and in one chamber a spinning wheel stood as though waiting for a family member long dead.
It was in the largest chamber that the housekeeper paused, her voice dropping. “Here is the tale that makes Calgarth notorious. The house, as you may know, is haunted. Many are the stories of frightful visions and mischievous deeds said to have been performed by the ghosts who inhabit the house and estate, to terrify and distress the neighborhood. The fables are not wholly disbelieved. Specters are still seen. And here in this very window lie two human skulls, whose history you must hear.”
The women drew closer, their breath caught, while the men exchanged amused glances.
The housekeeper continued. “It is said that these skulls belonged to two poor old people, unjustly executed for a robbery. As the story goes, Myles Philipson, the magistrate who owned Calgarth Hall and estate, wanted to enlarge his lands. He offered to purchase Kraster Cooke’s lands, but they refused to sell. One evening, he invited them to dinner, and the following day, hehad the elderly couple arrested for stealing dinnerware. The other guests bore false witness, and the magistrate had them arrested and hanged. But Doreen Cooke cursed the magistrate before her death.” The housekeeper looked each guest in the eye and said, “I will now recite the curse, in her own words:
‘Guard thyself, Myles Philipson; thou thinkest thou hast managed grandly; that tiny lump of land is the dearest a Philipson has ever bought or stole, for you will never prosper, neither will your breed. While Calgarth shall stand we will haunt it night and day. Never will ye be rid of us.’
To perpetuate their innocence, their skulls have remained in this house ever since. They are indestructible, immovable. Wherever they have been buried, burnt, powdered, or scattered, be it on the wind or upon the lake, they have always reappeared here, in this room, upon this very sill. So says common fame.”
