The Witch Of Crimson Peak

Part 22: Promised

I suddenly realised... the post.... Newspapers!

I bounded downstairs, my anxiety at its peak, what did they have to say about my Crimson Peak?
I looked down at the stack before me; The Guardian, Times, Telegraph, Daily Mail, The Mirror, the Independent, all the newspapers I invited and the magazines such as Coast, Country Living, Olive, and North East.

They all sat there, their glossy wrapping shining in the light of the lobby, I couldn't bring myself to open them, like a Christmas present I didn't want to unwrap.

"Oh my god, are they in?" Chef Moorhouse came in with a happy bustle from.the Kitchen, Mr Gorman in tow.

"Yeah, just in, I don't know what to do!" I yelped, standing in perpetual torment, to read or not to read.
"Let me at em!" She squealed and tore open the plastic wrap on The Guardian Newspaper. She turned to the travel section and began to read out aloud.

"Crimson Peak has the most ghastly story in British history, from the black widower past to the unfortunate deaths over the many years of those who had dared venture inside. Hair raising is one way to describe this historic home, now Hotel, in the most wonderful way ever! The decor is beautifully gothic with a taste of the victorian oppulence this residence once had originally. The cook Chef Moorhouse whipped up the most frightfully delightful treats and cooked up her brilliant examples for oppulent and alternative weddings to suit all tastes. Allerdale Hall can now rest easy as it is in safe hands, and has brought a new chapter to its story! FIVE STARS?!?!" Chef Moorhouse bounced on the spot excited for the review and I joined jumping for joy!

We tore open the others, Daily Mail, good old Quentin gave us four stars, with a few criticisms over the noises from people outside in the gardens and with one complaint over what he described 'The actor dressed as Sir Thomas Sharpe looked really nothing like him. Really, if you're gonna get a look alike stick to the historical accuracy.'
This made me smile, this really was the icing on the cake.

We continued through the reviews one by one, all golden and amaing, and before we moved to the magazines the phone began to ring, I ran to the desk, sat down and picked up the phone. I took a second tk collect myself, patted down the wrinkles forming in my skirt and said "Hello, Allerdale Hall?"

"Hi, Allerdale Hall? Can you accomodate a wedding for one hundred and thirty guests?" Came a voice down the phone, I quickly took the details, 130 guests, Summer wedding 21st June!

Another call, bookings for Christmas, calls from entertainment companies to provide smallscale shows and performances, The Poe Society, The Mary Shelley Society... it was hot, we were on fire!
Spending the next 2 hours taking bookings, I finally flopped back into the desk chair, this was not how I was planning on spending the morning but here I was fully booked over the next year!

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As I entered my room, I saw Thomas sat by the fire, his energy diminished quite substantially to a point where he was almost looking as pale as the day I met him. I sat down with a mug of Hot cocao, its bitter sweet scent filling the air and the vapour misting like a chimney at Christmas. He stared into the flames, his eyes considering many thoughts, as if he were seeing visions in the fire.

"We still haven't discussed the Astral Plane." He said solomnley breaking his concentration from the crackling hearth, and turned his attention towards me. "The spirits that still linger there, it's all my fault."

"Please, I didn't mean to decieve you, I only meant to shield you from pain." I said quickly as if to abate any resentment I knew was coming my way. I was never very good at breaking bad news, or delivering something so heart wrenching as that, but he did deserve to know and I should never have kept it from him.
He waived his hand to dismiss my apology, and I looked down into my steaming cup looking for the answers.