“I screamed back that I’d found his medal, that I would return it personally to his family, but that didn’t placate the spirit or whatever strange sort of being or thing it is. In any case, it gave up on me and dreamed himself to Miranda and Palonia Chiara.

“Don’t you understand? My finding Major Houston’s medal has made no difference. The black funnel, the abyss, as Miranda calls it, attacked them, and only them, to scare them, to make me do what it wanted. But don’t you see, I can’t do what it wants. I can’t find Major Houston.”

“You believed since you couldn’t find Major Houston, if you found his medal, the spirit would leave you alone?”

The Great stared some more at the ki

ppers. Finally, he said slowly, “I reasoned there was nothing else he could want. I mean, when he first came to me, he scattered the Waterloo medals everywhere. Rather a huge clue, don’t you think?

“But the fact is, I really couldn’t believe I actually found Major Houston’s medal. There were so many struck, upward to forty thousand, and yet at last I found the right one and I told him over and over that I had it. Surely the spirit knows it. But it didn’t help.”

Grayson said, “It seems to me, sir, the spirit was very clear. It wants you to find Major Houston, not his medal.”

They looked up to see Suggs hovering by the door. He arched a thick white eyebrow.

Suggs executed a splendid bow. “My lord, like Mr. Sherbrooke, I wish to know what you are supposed to do with the spirit as well since it is my responsibility to keep the house safe. I can assist Mr. Sherbrooke, your lordship. None of us wish Mrs. Wolffe and Miss P.C. to leave. And Musgrave Jr., of course. You know too that Barnaby would go with them. Our family would be broken up. It would be a disaster, my lord.”

Miranda appeared in the doorway, hands on her hips, her glasses sliding down her nose, her hair back in its thick braid, wearing a yellow gown, so old it was faded nearly to white.

“Come in and eat your breakfast, Miranda,” the Great said. “How can Mr. Sherbrooke possibly want to marry you when you’re so thin?”

Grayson stood frozen in place, his mouth open, but Miranda was made of stern stuff. She leaned forward, planting her hands on the table. “I’m thin because you brought this malignant spirit into the house, sir. Who could eat with gusto when a black funnel could whirl in at any moment and go into you? Or make the house shake off its foundation and open up a black hole to swallow P.C. and me?

“Sir, listen to me. No more running away, locking yourself in your bedroom, no more of your clever distractions. I wish to hear the answer as well as Suggs. This is our home. We have the right to know. Why does the spirit want you to find this Major Houston? As luck would have it, you did find the medal, amazing since there were so many made. You had to know you’d have a better chance of finding the man.”

The Great chewed on his knuckles, then sighed. “It’s been so many years. I suppose it really doesn’t matter any longer. Very well, Miranda, sit down. Suggs, come closer.”

The Great waited until Suggs was standing at the other end of the dining table, tall, shoulders back, like one of the Great’s soldiers back in the old days.

Grayson said, “Sir, I realize you believe you cannot find Major Houston because he died at Waterloo.”

That brought Miranda to her feet. “Major Houston is dead? But that makes no sense, Grayson, why would the spirit of a dead man come to the Great and demand that he find him? He’s dead, so that’s impossible. The black funnel hurled all the medals into the air. That’s why you believed Major Houston wanted his medal returned to his family, isn’t it, sir?”

Before the Great could respond, Grayson raised a hand. “Sir, what I do not understand, however, is why you wouldn’t want to tell Mrs. Wolffe, all of us, immediately. Why the secrecy?”

The Great looked from face to face, then down at the congealed eggs on his plate. “Very well, I will tell you. Major Houston served under me in the Third Battalion, Fourteenth Regiment of Foot. He saved my life, slammed the sword out of the French soldier’s hand, knocked him off his horse. I had no time to thank him, and he was gone again. An hour later, I was in the middle of the bloodbath, fighting two French infantrymen, when I sensed another coming up behind me. I turned and slashed out with my sword, killed him. Then I realized it was Major Houston coming to help me and I’d killed him. I’d killed the man who’d saved my life. When I realized he wasn’t an enemy soldier and I’d killed my own man, I nearly fell apart, but you see, my men needed me.

“There was no choice but to leave him lying there since there were more French infantry surrounding me. On and on it went, until finally, it was over and I still lived, and I stood in that field of blood holding my arm.” He laughed, shaking his head. “All the dead men surrounding me, the wounded, and I had only a minor slash in my forearm. I began searching for Major Houston, but a messenger came upon me, told me the duke wanted me to come to him, and so I had no choice but to leave the field.

“The first chance I got, I went back to search more for Major Houston, but I couldn’t find his body. There were so many bodies, so many men whose lives were gone. Simply gone.”

There was silence in the breakfast room.

“This is difficult, Miranda—this is why I didn’t want to tell you. It is my guilt to bear because I killed my own man, the man who saved my life. I killed Major Houston.

“After I returned to England, I traveled to Sussex to meet the major’s family—his father and mother, his younger sister. They were devastated, of course. I expressed my gratitude at their son’s bravery and my condolences. I told them he had saved my life. But in the end, I was a coward. I did not tell them I had killed their son. Can you imagine the horror they would feel?

“I spoke to the duke when I found out about the medals, and asked him if I could myself present the major’s medal to his family, and he agreed. But there was some sort of mistake and his medal never got to me. I wrote the family, asked them if they’d received his medal. They said they hadn’t.

“I suppose I put it out of my mind—there was so much to be done here at Wolffe Hall since I had been absent far too long.

“Major Houston’s mother wrote me three years ago to tell me her husband, Major Houston’s father, had died. It was about that time I learned that many Waterloo medals had been pawned and sold, so I began collecting all the medals I could find, polishing them and returning them, to expiate my guilt, that was certainly part of it. I was also hoping to find the major’s medal for his mother and sister, to honor him, and of course, praying that finding his medal and returning it would also help lessen my guilt.

“I believe it is Major Houston’s spirit that has come to me. He must have realized I was searching for his medal—I can’t imagine how—I’ve never believed in such things as spirits and ghosts—and that’s when the funnel came into me. I swear, after all the indistinct mumbling, he shouted right in my face, ‘Find Major Houston!‘ Of course I assumed the spirit meant he wanted me to find Major Houston’s medal and that’s why it hurled all the medals around the library.

“Then a miracle happened. I found the medal—I actually found it in a pile Max had purchased from a pawn shop in a small town in Sussex. I was pleased because at least I could do something. I was ready to return it to his family, but he came to me again, more mumbling, more whirling around me, then shouted in my face, ‘Find Major Houston!‘ and I shouted back that there was no question of finding the major, he was long dead, bones and dust now, but I had found his medal and I would take it to his family. I even called the spirit Major Houston. I told him he could stop his spirit visitations, but he didn’t stop.” The Great looked at each of them again. “There, you now know my awful secret. I carry the guilt around on my shoulders every single day. Yes, I am convinced the spirit is Major Houston—there can be no other.

“But I cannot understand why he continues with this harassment and why he keeps telling me to find him! It makes no sense. It’s got to be about his medal. What I do not understand is that although Major Houston was a very young man, he was honorable, straight-thinking, he was brave. He wouldn’t have ever threatened another, and in such a horrific manner.”

Tags: Catherine Coulter Sherbrooke Brides Historical
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