The Passing Bell Tolls for Thee

4 Breakfast

Ben sat at the head of the dining room table, eating from a plate of eggs and sausage. He glanced up from the newspaper as April assed on her way to the kitchen. Mrs. Bigwood was putting last night's dishes in the dishwasher. The aroma of cinnamon and butter wafted from a pan on the counter. The housekeeper made cinnamon rolls, a favorite of April.

"Good morning, Mrs. Waverly," Mrs. Bigwood said, nodding to April. "Did you sleep well?"

"Actually, I—"

"Mrs. Bigwood, may I have another cinnamon roll," Ben interrupted, standing at the kitchen door. "You make the best in Wiltshire." "Good morning, April. Please see me when you finish breakfast. We have a lot to cover today."

Mrs. Bigwood's face showed no annoyance as she nodded. "Certainly, Mr. Muir." She cut a roll from the pan, centered it precisely on a plate and handed it to Ben. He returned to the dining room. She watched him go, shaking her head. "I don't know what's got into him lately. Wants all Sir Drew's favorites. He was never fond of my cinnamon rolls." She turned to April. "Mrs. Waverly, what would you like for breakfast? We've got eggs and bacon or sausage, kippers. Cereal. Tea?"

"Tea, please, two eggs, scrambled, bacon and one toast." She smiled. "And, of course, a cinnamon roll. Sir Drew and I always loved them. If you don't mind, may I eat here in the kitchen? I don't want to get in your way."

Mrs. Bigwood looked over her shoulder at April as she put bread in the toaster. "Certainly, you may eat here. How would you like your eggs?"

"Scrambled."

She cracked two eggs in the pan and stirred them with a fork. The eggs sizzled as they cooked. The toaster clanked as one slice popped up. Mrs. Bigwood put it on a plate.

April sat at the table and put her face in her hands, yawning and rubbing her eyes. She was tired and uneasy. Mrs. Bigwood put a plate with the hot eggs before April. She set down a blue mug with steaming tea.

"Thank you," April said, and nibbled on bacon. Maybe food would pick her spirits up. Mrs. Bigwood plated a cinnamon roll and added it to the table.

"Are you all right, ma'am?"

"I didn't sleep well last night." She finished the last of the eggs and bacon and buttered the slice of toast. "You've been here for years." Mrs. Bigwood nodded, waiting. "Has the Lodge or Oakton ever been haunted?"

"Why do you ask that?" Mrs. Bigwood eyed her with suspicion and turned to put the frying pan in the sink.

"I heard that creaky step last night when we went upstairs. Like footsteps following me. Then I thought I heard footsteps in the hall. And..." She decided not to mention the door shaking. "Then the footsteps left and the stairstep creaked like someone was walking downstairs. Oh. I stepped on the rowan cross that was above my bedroom door and broke it. It must have fallen." She pulled the rowan pieces and the red string from her pocket.

Mrs. Bigwood walked over and looked at the broken pieces in April's hand. "I'll replace the cross today." She was uneasy. "My family has lived hereabouts for centuries. The Lodge has never been haunted, to my knowledge, but during the Protectorate, when the Puritans did away with so many old religious things, calling them superstition." She paused, took a deep breath, and continued. "There were troubles. We King's Oak druids were unable to keep the horned man—" April flinched, but Mrs. Bigwood didn't notice. "Bound. We hid the bell he must answer so the Puritans wouldn't melt it down or take it away."

"Horned man?" April held her teacup in shaking hands and waited for Mrs. Bigwood's answer.

"Aye. He is wicked and clever and has ways of reaching out from his prison to lure those careless enough to try to best him."

"Why are rowan crosses on every door?"

Mrs. Bigwood looked at her and nodded. "The Rowan keep the evil out."

"Is Hydd evil?"

Mrs. Bigwood wouldn't look at her. "Aye, that one is. Made a deal with an evil spirit, back when the Romans suppressed the Druids. Hydd is not one to meddle with, though some thought they could deal with him, but he charges a high price."

April tittered, unnerved. "Your life."

"If you're lucky. He wants your soul."

"April," Ben said loudly. April jumped and saw him standing in the door. His face was smooth and impassive, but she felt anger under the surface. "Mr. Lanfair is here. He wants to talk with you about the new ram I bought from Kennet." He waited, hiding his impatience. He heard the women's conversation when he left the dining room and stopped it. The less April knew about Hydd and the Druids, the better for him. The truth would scare her back to South Carolina despite the wealthy inheritance she'd forfeit. He'd have a word with Mrs. Bigwood later.

"Certainly. I'm almost finished with breakfast."

"I must leave for the shopping soon," said Mrs. Bigwood. "Mrs. Waverly needs a few minutes to approve the grocery list and menu."

"Don't be long. Mr. Lanfair's time is valuable."

"Of course." She turned her back to him. "Here are the lists, ma'am." She handed April two sheets of paper and a pencil. "I took the liberty of preparing this week's items until you've had time to settle in. If you want any changes, just pencil then in."

April looked the lists over. "Everything looks good. Thank you." She held out the papers. Mrs. Bigwood's eyebrows crinkled.

"Please initial them. April, to confirm you've approved," Ben said.

April hurriedly scrawled 'APW' on each sheet and handed them to the housekeeper. "I'm going to put my boots on, and I'll be right out." She left the kitchen and trotted up the stairs. The loose board creaked loudly.

"Mrs. Bigwood, is china tea on the grocery list?"

"No, Mr. Muir, it isn't." She folded her hands over her stomach and waited. Her blue eyes looked calmly into his brown eyes, for they were the same height.

"Please add it. Thank you." She nodded and Ben left for the barn.