Inheritance

09 April 1870, Saturday

Miss Namaste invited me to her luncheon with Graham and agreed that I might represent to Mother that she is the reason for my extended stay with Sir Cosmo. We spent some time discussing what she should wear- she has her heart set on wearing one of her sari’s and I think it is a fitting choice. Tomorrow I will help her do her hair and dress for the luncheon. Now she is off with Graves and Edward picking up supplies for the meal.

<Later>

Upon Graves return, a niece of his, Miss Patsy Oakes, arrived at the household. She is taking on the position of Upstairs Maid for our bourgeoning household. I gave her a brief tour of the rooms Tattvik and I share and left her in the kitchen getting to know Edward- who had come in from his work in the shed. Miss Sinclair captured his attention after his snack and I have not seen them since.

I had a nice chat with Tattvik about her position in the house. As I do not want her to be at loose ends neither do I want her directly exposed to the dangers I have faced over the past week. She is interested in taking some classes at Lady Ottoline’s school but would prefer to live with me at Sir Cosmo’s. She and Graves will negotiate her household duties and I will speak to Sir Cosmo about enrolling her with Lady Ottoline. I encouraged Tattvik to take at least one class in the defensive arts as I promised her parents I would take care of her but I am finding that I will need her help in keeping this promise as England has turned out to be far more dangerous than I imagined when we left India.

As my conversation with Sir Cosmo was drawing to a close, Sir Cosmo then offered to make my travel arrangements. I accepted his gracious offer of course.

We spent the rest of the day tidying our rooms. With a second quiet day and the threat of Miss Oakes evaluation of our standards it seemed a necessary thing to do. Also, now that I know that Tattvik and I will both be staying on indefinitely it was satisfying to get everything unpacked and moved in. Tattvik chided me about the state of my petticoats- but I had used three of them over the last three days. One had become a rope for binding Salmalin, one a sack for MZ books, and one bandages for Salmalin after we pulled him bleeding, out of the water. I will check with Graves to see if he knows where the ‘book sack’ landed in all the chaos of our comings and goings. The last I saw it was in the library after we pulled the books out. The other two are definitely destroyed and I will have to replace them at some point.

10 April 1870, Sunday

I made it to early church this morning and returned home in plenty of time to help Miss Namaste dress for her visitor. The meal was quite a success. Graham was appropriately attentive and appreciate of Miss Namaste.

11 April 1870, Monday
Miss Namaste and I availed ourselves of Edward’s official position of groom and driver and went to hospital to visit Salmalin. I am terrible at this sort of thing- and it is even more awkward to visit someone you barely know. At least he has never actively tried to harm Miss Namaste or me and quite the contrary, rescued both Miss Namaste and Sir Cosmo from the treacherous actions of Jerrold Moriarty. I feel quite bad for Captain Moriarty, the Cobb’s younger brother, he seemed quite decent for an officer and his life these past few months must have been full of aggravation, with J. Moriarty dying, coming back to life, and then dying again. I can only hope that the Captain will be able to lay his brother and his brother’s poor choices to rest- what a trial it must be to have such an embarrassing relative!

As to our visit with Salmalin, he was awake, but groggy, when we first arrived. He became more animated as he and Miss Namaste talked and he even apologized for the remarks that so upset her the other day. Miss Namaste gave me the oddest looks; by the way she responded to Salmalin I gathered that he had made some improper suggestion about the young lady and her patron, Sir Cosmo. I can see why she was upset! During the rest of our conversation Salmalin reported that he had been unable to convince the nurses that the amount of laudanum he was being prescribed was actually interfering with his rapid recovery. I tried to think of something I could say to the nurses that would convince them to ask the Doctor to reassess the dosage but I could not think of anything that wouldn’t sound like mystic mumbo-jumbo to a trained man or woman. I also don’t know enough about laudanum as a chemical so any attempt to sound knowledgeable would have fallen flat.

Near the end of our conversation, Salmalin mentioned how ironic it was that the Her Majesty’s Government would spend so much time restoring him to health only to take it all away at the gallows. It had quite slipped my mind that just belonging to at thuggee cult is a hanging offence! Both Miss Namaste and I were quite disconcerted. We tried to reassure Salmalin without making any promise we could not keep. Soon the nurse arrived to dose Salmalin and bring a end to our visit. I was very distressed by the concerns raised by Salmalin, especially given the fact that the wounds he carries now are a direct result of his confrontation with his former allies. Miss Namaste and I resolved to visit Our Employer, immediately, without an appointment. Fortunately we were both dressed for visiting and would not make a poor impression upon the staff at the Office.

Upon our arrival we were informed that Sir Anthony was away from the office and we were given the choice of seeing Mr Willoughby (Sir Anthony's personal secretary) or Sir Phillip (Assistant Under-Secretary for Non-Consular Affairs). Much to my later regret, I choose Sir Phillip; I now know, that when given the choice, speak to Mr. Willoughby-a rule later seconded by Sir Cosmo. However, I am getting ahead of myself.

The visit to Sir Phillip was rather frightening as he had not even read the report submitted by Sir Cosmo (though I must confess that I did not know anyone had written a report about our eventful evening I had just expected that Sir Phillip would be fully briefed on the matter) I asked him to read the relevant portions of the report before Miss Namaste and I made our requests. His secretary brought us tea while Sir Phillip read. Sir Phillip is a large man. Miss Namaste captured is best, when upon our departure she said something to the effect of, “My, what a... massive man.” I could barely keep from laughing, so accurate was her description. Unfortunately he was also extremely irritating. I have met his kind before both in the service, when I was married to William, and in my father’s circles when I lived at home. It just served to remind me what an exceptional man my father was. Sir Cosmo seems formed in his mould and with my father’s loss still so recent I am sure that is part of why I want to remain in his household. I am glad there is room for me and Tattvik here since I no longer feel at home in what is now my brother’s house and trying to live on our own would be a struggle, not so much financially, as socially. I am no longer as willing to hide myself behind the proper upbringing that my Mother provided and more and more find myself to be my father’s daughter. I want to learn new things and practice the things that I am good at already. I don’t want to try to find another husband or settle down. I have done a 10 year tour of duty in my Marriage to William and I am more and more pleased each day that he acted in a way that allowed me to end the Marriage once and for all. I feel like I am coming out of a Marriage induced daze and finally finding my feet again.

I seem to have completely lost the thread of what I was writing earlier. Oh, yes. Our visit to Sir Phillip. Once I realized what Kind of Man he was I was able to make the suggestion that perhaps Salmalin ought to be saved from a public trail and from the fate of hanging because of the information he might have about Jerrold Moriarty and his organisation. Miss Namaste did try to argue that he ought to be spared simply because it was the right thing to do after all that Salmalin had done for us but I soon realised that argument would hold no water with a man like Sir Phillip. I think I managed to get Miss Namaste out of there before either of us was irritated to the point of sarcasm. Thus my new rule. When offered a choice between Sir Phillip and Mr. Willoughby, choose Willoughby. We did leave a detailed note for Sir Anthony on our way out but neither of us were please with how the visit went.

Upon returning home, I found that the property manager (Mr. Ashby) had responded to my letter with an offer to pick me up from the rail station in Stoke-on-Trent (the nearest rail platform to my Great-Aunt’s cottage in West Darlson). Sir Cosmo indicated that travel arrangements were complete and that I could depart tomorrow. I asked Miss Namaste if she would like to come with me and she agreed; Sir Cosmo telegraphed Mr. Ashby that we would arrive tomorrow afternoon. I have spent the evening packing, trying to keep myself to two small bags as I will probably have to manage them myself upon our arrival. I am so excited that I am not sure I have packed correctly. I will have Tattvik review my choices prior to closing up the bags and attempting to sleep.

12 April 1870, Tuesday
I am writing this on the Train to Stoke-on-Trent. What a train! Sir Cosmo surprised us both by convening us to the station and instead of taking us to the public tracks, he introduced us to Carstairs who is the head of Sir Cosmo’s private rail car. It is a bit faded in places and apparently has just come out of storage for this trip. There are three cars in all. The private car for Miss Namaste and myself, a dining/cooking car, and a car for the servants- including Carstairs, and a cook. Carstairs seemed quite excited that Sir Cosmo was taking an interest in the railcar again and Miss Namaste and I were quite pleased to be travelling in such unexpected luxury. Carstairs is bringing in lunch now, so I will set this aside for now.

13 April 1870, Wednesday
We are home again after a very eventful visit! I had no time in which to write in this book nor did Miss Namaste and I really ever unpack once we arrived at Great Aunt Hethlyn’s Cottage- now really my own in a way that is difficult to explain. Of course it is not strange to inherit from someone who is dead- the strange part comes when they talk to you afterwards!

Here, I will back up and try to tell the entire story as it happened. I think it is much stranger than anything Miss Namaste has read in her penny magazines. Though the one about the mummified hand that she read to me on the train was rather beyond the pale.

Upon our arrival at Stoke-on-Trent we were met promptly by Mr. Ashby and his carriage. He loaded our bags and drove us over West Darlson, commenting all the way about the strange things that have been reported going on at the cottage and continuing to try to provide some ‘natural’ explanation for them. I told him that very little would surprise me about my Great Aunt and was later proved quite wrong!

As Miss Namaste and I walked through the gates of the low stone fence that surrounds the two storey house, I saw the elk antler’s mounted on the stone gate posts glow a strange blue. The antlers were real and as tall as my not inconsiderable height. As we walked up the path I got out my key. The door rattled and shook as I tired to open it and finally it yielded to my efforts. I had thought of bringing some oil for the locks and hinges but had forgotten to mention anything to Graves prior to our departure. Anyway the House let us in at last. Only to slam the door shut behind us! This greatly alarmed Mr. Ashby who ran up to the door and began pounding on it. I attempted to reassure him that Miss Namaste and I were all right but he could not hear me or was not listening.

Miss Namaste and I watched from the window as a pack of wolves come out of nowhere and treed Mr. Ashby. A wind seemed to come up suddenly and he fell into the wolves. Instead of tearing into him they disappeared only to leave us with an even more disturbing sight. Mr. Ashby’s brown eyes flashed a glowing phosphorescent green and he moved woodenly up the path for our luggage and in two trips brought it into the house (which opened and closed on it’s own to allow him into the house and back out again). He then walked down the path and out of the gates. Throughout all of this I felt the strongest feeling that he was in no real danger and that he would be released once the House was finished bringing in our luggage. As he and the coachman left we were left quite alone for the night.

We reached the house around 1700 and I expected we would lose the light in another hour or so. Though finding a lamp was no problem as one glided off of the mantel before our very eyes and lit itself! I warned Miss Namaste that I did not know what to expect. Things had already become much more complicated than I had planned on. Maybe it would have been better to bring Mrs. Cuthbert after all- but I found Miss Namaste’s presence to be a calming one. She has a great deal of grace under pressure and at no time in the hours to come did she lose her head or panic in any way and having someone who I was responsible for with me helped me stay focussed that the evening wore on.

In an attempt a restoring some normalcy, we made our way to the kitchen and made ourselves quite a nice tea with the leftovers from the basket Tattvik had a packed and the surprisingly fresh food that we found in the house. I wonder if there is a spell that allows for a continually stocked larder?

After our tea we began searching the house for the book that Great Aunt Hethlyn had left for me. I had only found a shelf of mouldering books in what appeared to by my Aunt’s study when I noticed an odd feeling from one of the panels of a large carved shelf. Hidden within it was my Aunt’s book.

I heard Miss Namaste call my name and hurried to her side. Miss Namaste had found Great-Aunt’s stock of ritual supplies. It looked very similar to the paraphernalia that Mrs. Cuthbert and I had used in casting the protective spell in preparation for Thursday’s rescue of Edward. In addition to numerous bottles of herbs and coloured candles, there was a sliver cup, a set of bells, and a very sharp knife wrapped in oilskin. The silver pieces were tarnished but beautifully made. However, the reason she had called my name was not because of what she had found but that she had felt breath upon her neck and ear and thought I had come unexpectedly up behind her. When I entered the room there was no one I could see. That didn’t stop me from believing what she said. From that point on we stayed together and did not go alone to any part of the house.

I carried the book into the kitchen and spent some time reviewing it while Miss Namaste made us some more tea. We were finally settling down from our earlier fright when Miss Namaste was spooked by a man’s face appearing in a skillet hanging on the wall by the sink. She described him as a handsome man with dark hair and a pointed aspect about his face. His eyes were oddly large and his ears were strangely shaped, but what she found most disturbing was that the gaze he fastened upon her reminded him of the way a cat looks at a mouse. I was so focused on her description that I did not see the pages of my Aunt’s book turning themselves until Miss Namaste trailed off and pointed to the book. The book was lying open to a spell for the binding of restless spirits. I had already resolved to write my own name in the book as we definitely needed help to deal with the vagaries of my Aunt’s House and it seemed that all of the women who had held the book after the first one had written some sort of formula saying that they accepted the inheritance. I could see nothing wrong in confirming in writing what I had intended to do all along. But before I could do anything we heard the sound of footsteps upstairs and heard a door creak as it was shut and locked. We started to leave the room for the stairs when I noticed that each time I tried to write in the book I had been distracted.

I turned back to the book, and warning Miss Namaste that I did not know what would happen, I wrote the words. The house became very still and an apparition appeared before us. Miss Namaste informed me he was not the man who had appeared to her earlier. He was blond with two horns springing from his forehead. I asked his name and he said I’d been calling him House so we settled upon that name (he having no other preference for a name). He was able to tell us that the man who had been following Miss Namaste around the house was the spirit of my Great-Aunt’s brother-in-law. He had killed his brother, my Great-Aunt’ s Husband in an effort to get control of her spell book. The spells that Auntie had used to keep him still had weakened over time and his spirit was loose in the house and grounds. Some of this information came out piecemeal over the evening but I do not now remember what I learned when. House also told us that there was a living descendant of this man who had tired to break into the house over the years but had been prevented by House and Great-Aunt’s spells.

Now that we had some idea of what we were dealing with Miss Namaste and I (staying close together) made our way upstairs. I was just about to put my own key to the lock when we heard wolves howling outside. Distracted I turned to go back downstairs (now holding tightly to Miss Namaste’s hand, the howling was quite spine chilling, when I realised that the sound was coming from a ways a way and might be another attempt to keep us out of the room. My key pushed the other out of the lock and onto the floor. The door opened to reveal my Great-Aunt’s bedroom. We searched the room for what the ghost could be trying to hide and again it was Miss Namaste who found the object. It was a heavy box made out of lead. We took the box downstairs and I asked House what was in it. House said he couldn’t see into it since it was made of lead but that he did remember that Great-Aunt had said it was for emergencies. I opened it to find inside a pepper-box gun (which I gave to Miss Namaste since she knows how to use the blasted things) and an oilskin package that, when unwrapped revealed a fire-blackened skull. This solved one of our problems, as the spell we needed to cast to rid ourselves of the ghost recommended that you make sure to use some of the remains of the dead person. The skull bore several traces of the odd features of the ghost and House also confirmed that it had belonged to my Aunt’s Brother-in-Law (whose name we never did discover- I guess I could call him Mr. Haywood since that was their family name).

Miss Namaste assembled the ingredients for the spell while I reread both the spell I was to cast and a related work in the “Oriental Magic, Spells, and Folktales as collected by a Watcher” book. We double-checked the list against the spell and once we were sure we had everything we went outside under the large tree on the grounds where House said Mr. Haywood was buried. I set out the skull on it’s velvet wrap and we set out our candles, learning in the process that a spade is helpful to dig little holes to hold the candles upright in the rough ground.

A pack of massive dogs started rushing the wall. Snapping and snarling they tried to leap on us and I believe they were summoned by the ghost in a final attempt to disrupt the spell. House protected us. Changing his aspect to that of a giant elk and throwing the dogs back over the wall. Not once did one get close to us. It still made it difficult to concentrate but soon I felt the power gathering to me and Miss Namaste reports that my feet quite left the ground at one point. This is where the spell became much more like a recipe than a chemical process as the instructions just said to gather enough power to bind the spirit. Having no idea how much power that would take and knowing that Mr. Haywood seemed to be a powerful spirit in the number of things he had been able to do (including at one point making a seeming of Nigel Grahame appear to Miss Namaste (who was much to sensible to believe that Graham had suddenly appeared in our remote location)) in the brief time we had been at the cottage I held the spell as long as felt made sense and then brought it to conclusion.

The air was suddenly still and the dogs stopped trying to jump the fence and began either slinking away or snapping at their neighbours in a normal dog fashion. The night was clear and the stars were out and everything seemed normal. I reached for the skull to put it back in the box when it began to speak. Mr. Haywood claimed that the iron in the box would burn him and tried all kinds of persuasions to get me to keep him as a resource and advisor. Given the number of poor choices he had made in his life and death I was not at all tempted. I did remember reading that a spirit bound this way cannot lie when asked direct questions and so got the whole sordid tale of his murder of my Great-Uncle and his reasons for it- which were petty in the extreme. I put him back in the box so Miss Namaste and I could return to the House. I did not want to take him in the house without some sort of protective barrier between him and me. He was quiet for a bit then.

Miss Namaste and I went back inside where we put the items used in the ritual away and she made some more tea. It was quite late by this point but I could not even thing of going to bed until Mr. Haywood had been taken care of. If only my Aunt had been as careful with her leftover magics as my father had been with his chemicals. For it comes to the same thing in the end it seems to me. Magic is just a capable as Chemistry of creating dangerous compounds that must be disposed of safely. Thinking of the problem in this way and with the help of Miss Namaste’s tea I was able to find a reference in the Oriental Magic book to a method for destroying skulls such as the one I now had.

The process was fairly simple but to confirm it (and to get the answers to a few questions) I finally summoned my Aunt. I explained what I had done and she confirmed that smashing the Skull with iron and burning the pieces would work. She also apologized for leaving Mr. Haywood behind for me to clean up and said that there were some good people in that family. After a bit of rumination she finally remembered the name of a Maggie Haywood who lives in London and recommended her to me as a source of advice... at least I think that is what she meant. Dead people can be irritatingly vague at times.

Miss Namaste and I build a hot fire in the courtyard and brought the box containing the skull out to the fire. Mr. Haywood complained (and if he was half as irritating while he was alive I don’t see how he ever could have been considered Charming as he claimed) that since he had embraced his Fey heritage to stay in this world and wait for a time he could cross back over (his words) he would cease to exist once we smashed the skull. He claimed that Fey have no souls and do not continue after this life is over. I gave him the opportunity to confess his sins to God and ask for forgiveness and he did ramble on a bit along those lines but I fear he may only have been stalling. I don’t know if it would be right to hope he was sincere since I fear he would then end up in Hell for all his misdeeds but at least he would not cease to exist and when you are under the eye of God there is always hope- at least that is what I believe. Finally I ended it and brought the heavy box down on the skull. I then through all the pieces as well as the velvet and oilskin into the fire and Miss Namaste and I watched it burn down.

Once the fire was safely out we returned to the house and were finally able to get some rest. We slept soundly and with out disturbance through the rest of the night and were ready to go when Mr. Ashby returned with his coach in the morning. And as I had hoped he had suffered no ill effects from his possession the night before. I never did ask House if he was behind that. We brought the entire contents of my Great-Aunt’s cupboard, along with the Spell Book. Tattvik will have a fit when she sees the state of my petticoats!

Now we are home after an uneventful and relaxing train ride in Sir Cosmo’s wonderful railcars. I napped much of the way home and fell quite refreshed in spite of our adventure.

I hope Miss Namaste will not think ill of me after what I have put her through. I thought it would be an uneventful trip up to Staffordshire to pick up a book- not a night in a haunted house talking with all manner of good and evil spirits!

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