The Fourth Mistress - Chapter 48

Music Recommendation: Misty Mountains – Hendyamps Studios

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Though Louise had connected the two pins on the board with a thread, it was only her assumption that she somewhere doubted it to be true. The chances were low, but with Graham, who had found his father’s old file that held the Saltonstall family’s details, she couldn’t help but believe that this little girl who was in the painting was Saltonstall’s missing daughter.

Louise stood in one of the rooms where all the painted portraits had been shifted from the walls in the corridor to this place so that Lady Viola wouldn’t be upset from seeing it.

She had asked Gilbert to hang it in this large room that no one used so that she could observe them.

Standing in front of one of the old group paintings when Graham was young, Louise’s eyes fell on the girl who sat next to Graham. The girl was a brunette, her expression innocent and staring at her front, the painter who had been creating this painting. Both Graham and the girl sat closely, and by the looks of it, it looked like she was younger than Graham.

As close as they were in one of the paintings, they stood away from each other in the next painting, which might have been painted after a year or two. The other paintings didn’t have the little girl in them and probably because she had not been invited or allowed to be part of the portraits.

“So this is where you have decided to gather them,” came the crisp and unpleasant voice from behind her.

Louise turned around and saw it was her dear mother-in-law, who had stepped inside the room.

“Good afternoon, Lady Viola,” Louise greeted the woman with a bow, but Lady Viola didn’t return the greeting. “As you said you weren’t comfortable having them on the walls in the halls, Graham and I thought it would be better to place them somewhere you wouldn’t come to walk into.”

Lady Viola softly harrumphed over Louise’s words. Since the day she and Lady Viola had openly spoken to each other, their relationship had turned into a strange yet tolerable one. It was good to know that Graham’s mother didn’t hate her.

“When did this room get separated from not being part of the manor? Of course, I would come to stumble over it,” remarked Lady Viola, a frown coming to form on her face, when she stared at the paintings from one corner of the wall to another. “You seem to have a strange fascination or obsession towards these paintings.”

“You can call it my curiosity, Lady Viola,” Louise’s words were polite. “But I do not understand your dislike towards it.”

Lady Viola came to stand next to Louise, and her eyes came to settle on the painting that was in front of them. With a grim look, she said, “Have you ever lived through a phase, where you don’t want to remember it? Like when you see something that relates to that incident. Like a certain smell, or the sound. It makes you not want to see it.”

“It brings bad memories?” asked Louise, and the woman responded with a short hum.

“The feeling of discomfort and even lots of headaches. I don’t think any of the family members even like to see them, maybe not even Graham. But he’s only complying to your wishes because you are his wife,” answered Lady Viola, and she brought her hands forward to hold them together. “I have never been particularly fond of these old paintings. One because of their chalky texture and two because most of them have been dead for quite some time now and have turned irrelevant.”

Louise’s eyes shifted from the painting to meet Lady Viola’s eyes, and she asked, “Were they irrelevant in the past too?”

“They were,” came the curt answer from the older woman who was in the room. Her eyes again looked at the people in the painting, “I like to have only actual family members and not the friends or the neighbours or people whom I hold no value for. It was Graham’s grandmother’s decision to have everyone within one frame and as you can see, once they passed away, we didn’t include others in the future frames.”

“That doesn’t explain why you feel uneasiness while looking at them as if you have a bad memory. Does it remind you of something?” asked Louise. Lady Viola replied to it,

“I don’t remember it. In the beginning it was alright, but a few years ago, I didn’t want to look at them. The paintings evoke feelings of guilt,” whispered Lady Viola, and this turned Louise alert.

Did this mean Lady Viola was part of whatever Mr. Wensley and Robert were involved in?

“I feel as if I have failed to be the mother that Graham deserved. His first two wives died when they were young, I could have done better,” Lady Viola had regret in her eyes, but she didn’t blink away from what was in front of her. “In the end, I couldn’t even protect my husband.”

“What happened to Robert wasn’t your fault,” Louise softly spoke, trying to console Lady Viola.

“You saw what was written there that day. Whoever it is, that person is coming for us,” said Lady Viola, finally looking at Louise. “Maybe it would be better if you and Graham leave Reed’s manor to settle elsewhere.”

“If the problems could be solved that easily, I think we would have already done it. I know you can sense it,” said Louise looking at the woman in her eye. “That something is here, in the manor.”

“That’s just your imagination. You aren’t a writer , Louise, but someone who is going to be working in the legal system,” stated Lady Viola.

Hearing this, Louise’s eyebrows further furrowed, and she said, “Gilbert told me that all the doors and the windows of the manor had been properly locked and there was no sign of forced entry to break into the manor-”

“Then it must be done by someone who is living in this manor,” said Lady Viola. She was not ready to believe the possibility that a ghost had killed her husband. “Never did I ever think that one day, I would have to watch my back,” murmured the woman.

A small smile appeared on Louise’s lips at Lady Viola’s words, and the woman’s eyes subtly narrowed, “What is it?”

Louise shook her head, “I was going to say something, but then I know you would see me as if I have lost my mind.”

“You are going to say that all these things are happening because of a ghost?” questioned Lady Viola. Turning back, she made her way towards the couch on one side of the room and sat down.

Louise followed the woman but not sitting and instead took to stand near the closed window. “I have seen her, the woman who haunts.”

“And what does she want? Waiting to kill us all?” there was a hint of sarcasm in Lady Viola’s words. “Has she spoken to you?”

“She did,” Louise nodded her head, and the woman rolled her eyes as if she couldn’t believe that Louise was speaking about such unbelievable things. “She seemed interested in the paintings. I don’t know if she was or wasn’t bothered though.”

“Why would a ghost ever be interested in any painting?” Lady Viola decided to humour her daughter-in-law.

“Right?” asked Louise, ignoring her mother-in-law’s stare. Why would the ghost take any interest in any of the paintings? Unless the ghost was the painter or a person who was in the painting. “Lady Viola, do you know that girl who is sitting next to Graham?”

Lady Viola had a severe expression when she looked at the girl in the portrait.

“I think faintly,” the older woman replied. “From the moment I laid my eyes on her, I didn’t like her. There was something about her presence that never sat well with me.”

Even though she was small, she seemed to be a problematic child. Graham met her in one of the soirees, and they were quick to become friends. And as you would rightly assume, I didn’t like it. I had seen her mother before, who was often seen in the company of different men. I don’t think I ever found out who her husband was.”

“Did you ever come in contact with that woman?” asked Louise, wanting to know every detail of information that Lady Viola had to offer her.

Lady Viola tipped her chin up, “What makes you think that I would associate myself with a woman like that. And to think she even made herself into the family portrait. The girl was strange. Always hanging around my son, and trying to get him away from the manor. And after the last painting was made, where she’s at the side in the painting, I found them in the backside of the stables… with their faces next to each other. The audacity of her to sully my child. It took quite some effort before I was able to separate the girl away from Graham.”

Louise could tell that Graham’s mother loved both him and Alison and was possessive as well as protective about them.

“Children do odd things, when they are small,” commented Louise, because they were innocent.

“This one was the oddest I have ever laid my eyes upon,” replied Lady Viola.

“Did the little girl ever come by again to meet Graham or your family?”

Lady Viola shook her head, “I don’t think so. After the last painting no and Graham started to focus his attention back on his studies.”

It must have been the same time when Lady Marlow must have passed away, thought Louise to herself. It was clear that Mr. Saltonstall had died that night, but she had her doubts that it wasn’t the same for the elder daughter. The girl never returned to meet Graham again? Where did she go?

“I see,” replied Louise, pressing her lips. She turned back to look at the paintings. “Recently, when I went to visit the painter, he said he was in love with one of the lady’s who was present during the day he came to paint the family members on the canvas.”

“Did he now? This is the first time that I am hearing about it,” murmured Lady Viola.

If Lady Viola had said she knew the woman who had been around the painter, maybe it would have led her somewhere, but her mother-in-law didn’t know, thought Louise in her mind. Was the painter the only person who had seen her? But then he didn’t remember her face. Did he imagine it? She questioned herself.

While Lady Viola was speaking about their family, Louise looked outside the window, and she caught sight of someone walking through the woods. Squinting her eyes, she noticed it was the butler who carried a shovel on his shoulder.

“What do you think about Gilbert?” she interrupted Lady Viola.

“Gilbert? He’s a trusted and the most loyal butler our family has had. Speaks less and works more, the perfect kind,” answered Lady Viola. “I should get back to the drawing room. I am sure Agatha is waiting for me to have tea with her, you can join us.”

Louise bowed her head, “Thank you. I think I will take a stroll outside.” Lady Viola didn’t try to persuade Louise, and she left the room.

She left the room after Lady Viola and then stepped out of the manor. She followed the way in which she had seen Gilbert walking with a shovel into the forest. She made her way through the woods, hearing the chirping of the birds and the soft humming sound of the flowing water from the streams. The gentle breeze moved the branches and the leaves of the trees.

Walking farther away from the manor, and now in the woods where the ground that she walked on still belonged to the Reed’s, she finally saw Gilbert, who stood near a tree while his back faced her.

As Louise carefully made her way to where the butler stood, she heard a creaking sound above her, and her eyes widened when she noticed the branch break. Her eyes widened, and she almost missed being hit by it by moving back. But some of the sub-branches hit her and fell to make a loud thump on the ground.

Louise had fallen on her bottom, and she stared at the thick branch before looking up at Gilbert, who appeared on the other side of the branch.

“Milady, are you alright?”

If Louise had not noticed it in time, the branch would have cracked her head, and she would not have survived.

“The trees around here have become weak because of the heavy rain, and the roots have surfaced up the ground, turning them fragile, milady,” informed Gilbert and offered his hand to her. Louise took the support to stand up, feeling the strength in his pull. “This side of the forest isn’t safe for you, allow me to escort you back to the manor.”

Louise’s eyes quickly looked around before it went back to Gilbert.

“I am fine now,” she said, her eyebrows knitted together. “Have you informed Graham about this?” she asked him. Because the trees couldn’t stay intact and were old, it was dangerous and better to cut them.

Gilbert bowed his head as if agreeing to her words, “I did mention it to Master Graham, but he said that these were trees that Mr. Lestrange mentioned in his deed of agreement while transferring the ownership of the property to not cut them. Master Graham has informed us to not come to this side to avoid being hurt. With the help of others, we have made sure to put back the mud on the roots.”

Is that why he was carrying a shovel? To put mud over the roots of the trees that had surfaced upon the ground?

“Are you working alone?” questioned Louise and the butler stared at her as if she had asked something that he didn’t understand or was taking time to process.

“I came here to check something,” replied Gilbert with the same unchanging expression on his face. “Please follow me,” he said, walking to where he had earlier been standing.

Louise made sure to keep her ears alert to catch any sound coming from the branches. When she came to see what Gilbert wanted to show her, her eyes fell on a pit.

“What is this?” she asked him.

The butler then said, “A few days ago, when I was walking by this place, this was filled with water and I thought it was a puddle of water that surrounded this tree. But now as the rain has stopped and most of the water has either soaked back into the ground or evaporated, today this is what I found.” He then used the shovel to tap on the ground, and that’s when Louise noticed the loose gravel of mud covering the bottom of the little tree that was of her height.

Louise’s lips pressed against each other. She moved closer to look at the ground and raised her hand for him to pass the shovel to her. The butler looked apprehensive as she was the lady and he the servant to let her do the work, but she didn’t budge.

Taking it, she poked the ground beneath the tree, and the tree eventually fell to the side.

It left a hole behind it, and Louise noticed a cloth sticking out from there.