The mansion has changed drastically since Lord Godwin last visited it in his youth.
Where he expected to find the peace of mind, immersing in the memories of carefree childhood and turbulent adolescence, were instead gloomy corridors and empty spacious halls where the howling draughts were grieving the loss of the lively dwellers of the past. Lord Godwin was turning around sleepless in his bed: for the last three nights, he felt uneasy, hearing the dark branches scratching the window as if they were long, skinny hands of a lost soul trying to get inside. A lost soul, freezing and lonely, whose weeping was indistinguishable from the wind. Lord froze. Why would a man of his age and status engage in such foolish fantasies? Or was it something more than a mere imagination of a tired mind? He lit up a candle and looked out of the window. The wave of terror hit him, splashing his face with cold sweat. A maiden. As white as bones. And more beautiful than the fairest noble lady. Enchanted, Lord Godwin slowly opened the window. A sudden, chilling burst of wind knocked him down, and in the wind, he recognized the words:– May my unjust decease be avenged. May my tormentor lie as dead as I am, for it is the only way I can find eternal peace.
Lord Godwin woke up lying on the carpet, realising he had collapsed. Was that ghostly vision real? The image of the maiden was impossible to remove from his mind. During breakfast, he called over Susan, an old housekeeper of the mansion. She has been working here for decades, and he remembered her being a maid during his youth.
– Have there been any rumours about a young woman dying tragically in this area?
Her face went pale.
– N-no, sir. The countryside here is quiet.
Lord Godwin frowned. She definitely knew something. Later, when he was strolling through the left wing of the building, he noticed her sneaking to the greenhouse where she met Thomas, an elderly gardener. Lord Godwyn followed them quietly. He heard Susan whispering:
– I think he saw her, too. He shouldn’t have come here.
– Keep me out of these scandals, Sue. I’m fine enough with being stuck in this cursed place. I thought we decided nothing had happened all those years ago.
Lord Godwyn stepped into the light:
– What are you two murmuring about? And what is going on with the mansion?
– My lord, those are merely old wives' tales about something that happened decades ago. You don’t need to worry or doubt our loyalty.
– But what had happened here?
– It is not that important.
– I know about the wrongful death of a young maiden! And your hesitance leaves me no choice but to suggest both of you must have been involved! – Lord Godwyn exclaimed.
– Tell him, let him know, – Thomas broke the silence.
– But how can I… This knowledge will surely crush you, sir! Please do not ask us anything, just know that we are innocent, – Susan was on the verge of tears.
– To a degree, we are to blame as well, Sue.
– To blame for what deed?! – He hit his cane against the marble floor, leaving an uncanny echo.
– For helping you to meet her in secret, sir, – Susan lowered her gaze, – the spirit you have encountered is Christine. The girl you had left over thirty years ago. She was so in love that she died from a broken heart the same day. You had departed to the main residence by that time.
A sudden thunder stirred up the greenhouse. Lord Godwyn was speechless. Not only was he able to commit such a cruel and horrendous act, but he also had the heart to absolutely forget about that. He raised his hands:
– Was it really me who perpetrated this? Oh, the lost soul haunting this mansion! Please show yourself!
– The man who used to swear his eternal love and then deserted me told me his name, – the otherworldly voice made everyone petrified with terror. The fair maiden slowly walked in, through the closed doors, – the name was… Charles, the eldest son of lord Godwyn.
– Be damned, my foolish, careless youth! – cried out Lord Godwyn, whose name was in fact Charles, – Take my life so your soul won’t have to suffer for another thirty years!
The last thing he felt were cold, dead hands locking around his neck…
Lord Godwyn woke up as a ghost. Christine was still nearby and looked frustrated.
– Why am I still here? I was supposed to rest in peace, for I took revenge on the one who had left me.
– Oh, man! – Lord Godwyn’s ghost suddenly realised:
– It must’ve been my twin brother Kyle. He used to shift the blame on me all the time.
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