been a more respectable little household and it was noted how very discreet Mrs Parrish was, for the only gentleman ever seen to enter the house alone was the vicar.’
‘What was not seen, however, was that her landlord was also her lover and entered the house nightly by a secret entrance that had been built in from the beginning. For the name of the house was no coincidence and the local gentleman, far from being the complacent husband of a difficult and sickly wife, had been carrying on an affair with Mrs Parrish, a talented actress, for more than four years.’ Was this going to be too shocking for the strict mamas in the audience? Guy watched Mrs Redland for her reaction, but saw only fascination and a dawning awareness on her angular face.
‘All went well. Diana was discreet, her child grew lovelier by the day and her lover managed his double life with such skill that his family never suspected a thing. His only failing was to forget that all men, even those in love, are mortal. His death at the age of forty of a seizure, one day before his daughter’s third birthday, was utterly unexpected. His grieving widow left all matters in the hands of her son, an arrogant cub of seventeen who lost no time in going through his father’s papers where he discovered ample proof of just what the older man had meant by calling the Moon House an investment.’
‘Accompanied by three grooms, he descended on the Moon House and forced his way into Diana’s dressing room, where she was sitting at her dressing table clad in only her night rail. Imagine if you can her state of mind that morning.’ Again he dropped his voice a little. The audience was leaning forward in its chairs, he could feel the intensity of Hester’s gaze on him, but dared not look at her and risk losing his thread.
‘Three days ago her lover, a man she loved deeply, her only source of support, had died without warning, leaving her with a child and her only possession of value, a wonderful rope of pearls which she always wore. She had just twisted it about her neck: perhaps she was stroking it, remembering the night he gave it to her, remembering the words he had spoken.
‘Then her door was forced open. With her child screaming with fear, her maid brutally forced from the room, she had the pearls torn from her neck, the nightgown ripped from her body, leaving her naked and humiliated in front of those men. Her lover’s son gave her an hour to pack and leave, his henchmen threw her clothes on to the floor so she had to scrabble on her hands and knees to gather up what she could, her baby hanging around her neck, terrified, seeing violence and hearing raised voices for the first time in her life.’
‘They threw her out of the house with her child, the clothes they stood up in and one valise. She had two sovereigns in her reticule. The snow was thick on the ground, the wind harsh, Behind her she could hear the sounds of men wrecking her home; perhaps even the sound of a knife ripping through the canvas of her portrait, which hung over the fireplace in the dining room.’
There were gasps as people remembered the picture that Hester had restored, then Mrs Bunting said, ‘The poor creature. Whatever became of her?’
‘She caught the stagecoach to London, that much is known. Then, who can say?’
There was the sound of a sob-Miss Redland had a softer heart than her frivolous exterior betrayed. Hester, when he risked a glance at her, was white to the lips.
‘The Moon House stayed empty for many years. Around it grew up a mystery and tales of tragedy, for no one beyond the family of Diana’s lover knew what had happened. A story of haunting grew, and strange details were added to the legend; many swore that the scent of roses lingered around the house, even when the flowers were not in bloom, for in Diana’s day the house was surrounded by a garden of great charm, filled with her favourite roses.
‘Then the grandchildren of her lover inherited, but by then the house had been sold.’ A small gasp interrupted him: at last they were thinking about what he was saying, not as a story but as history, and the identity of Diana’s lover must be obvious to everyone. ‘These heirs found the papers telling of the building of the house and found the secret way in, They also found love letters referring to a treasure hidden in the house, a secret known only to Diana and her lover. They needed money and they were greedy. Lights were seen in the days before Miss Lattimer moved in, but nothing was found and now she was in residence: how could they search?’
Somehow he was holding their attention. No one spoke, although eyes were turning towards the Nugents, who sat like statues in the front row. ‘Their only hope was to force Miss Lattimer to leave, but she would not sell. She must be scared away, and so a new haunting of the Moon House began. They almost killed Miss Lattimer’s butler in the process, they terrified her companion and maidservant, they harassed her beyond what any lady might be expected to stand and they told a tale of tragedy and death walking, coming closer with the changing phases of the moon.’
He paused, counting heartbeats. One… two…three… four. ‘But they disturbed something with their blasphemous meddling, and now, it seems, Diana’s spirit has returned in truth. The moon is waning…’
As he spoke the room was suddenly filled with the scent of roses, as shocking as it was lovely, wreathing through the air like a summer’s evening in deepest December. Mrs Bunting gave a sudden gasp and all the candles but the branch by Guy’s side went out. His cue.
A cold wind blew through the room, sending the candle flames guttering and the flames in the fire dancing, their reflection casting a devilish glow across frightened faces. Then the heavy curtains over the door at his side fluttered as though they were merely gauze and parted and a figure appeared. All in white, its long golden hair falling in ringlets around its shoulders, a great rope of pearls falling across its milky pale bosom, it turned slowly to face the audience and stretched out a hand.
The scream when it came wrenched Hester from her state of shock. By her side Sarah Nugent was on her feet, but it was not she who had uttered that ghastly noise, it was her brother. Sir Lewis had his hands thrown up to ward off the spectre, his face was contorted in the strange light, but everyone heard his voice.
‘You’re dead, you whore, you’re dead…get away from me…it’s ours, all the money’s ours, he bled the family dry for you, you whore. If she had only seen sense, only sold-’
The vicious slap his sister cracked across his cheek silenced him and he recoiled from her, his hands still to his face. Hester stared round the room; the audience was transfixed, the spectre of Diana had vanished as silently as it had appeared. ‘You fool!’ Sarah snarled. ‘Now get us out of this!’
She seized Hester’s arm, spinning her into Lewis’s arms and he grabbed hold of her with the strength of desperation. Hester struggled, then she was pushed away as a small figure hurtled into Sir Lewis like a terrier on a rabbit. There was a thump, a cry and the baronet was doubled up, retching and clutching his groin.
‘Are you all right, Miss Hester?’ Jethro caught her and held her. ‘I kicked him in the gingambobs, he won’t be going anywhere now.’
‘I know you did, Jethro. Well done. Thank you.’ Hester turned in his embrace and stared at the chaos that her kitchen had become.
A group of thickset men erupted from the cupboard where the ghost had come from and held the Nugents firmly between them while one repelled Mrs Bunting, who seemed intent on doing physical harm to both of her neighbours. ‘Wicked, wicked,’ she was repeating. Miss Redland had fainted neatly into the arms of the curate, but for once her mother was paying no attention, instead listening, as they all were, to Sir Jeremy Evelyn.
‘… powers invested in me as magistrate I arrest you, Lewis Nugent, and you. Sarah Nugent, for breaking and entering, assault, causing grievous bodily harm… yes, Vicar-?’ he broke off to listen to Mr Bunting’s agitated whisper ‘-theft and the improper disposal of human remains. These constables will take you to Aylesbury where you will await trial.’
‘I demand a lawyer.’ Sarah was not yielding one inch, although at her side her brother was sobbing now.
‘Certainly, ma’am.’ Mr Earle stepped forward. ‘I am at your disposal. You are going to need all the help you can get.’ His smile was not reassuring.
As they were bundled out of the door, Hester looked round for Guy and found him interrogating Mr Bunting. His face when he came over to her was stiff with anger. ‘Why did you not tell me about the hand?’
‘There was nothing you could do about it.’ She felt too tired now to explain.
‘It was in your bed?’
Why was he so angry with her? She had not put the sad, grisly relic there. ‘Yes, on the pillow. Guy, please, I am sorry to be ungrateful, but I wish you would just go away and take all these people with you.’
There was a long silence while he stood looking at her, the anger still hot in his eyes. ‘Very well, Hester. I will go away and leave you in peace.’ To her surprise he did not argue but did just that, taking Sir Jeremy and the
