"I apologise for my initial– abruptness," he said in a somewhat disgruntled tone. "You are– far from the first good Samaritan to grace me with their presence today, several members of the clergy included."
There were small pauses in his posh RP speech that one couldn't call anything but pregnant. Peggy seemed to catch a whole cannonade of veiled potshots in everything he said.
"I'm not a member of the clergy anymore," Peggy mumbled, trying not to stare.
His face was mostly obscured by the mad cascade of his silver waves and his beard. The striking electric blue of his eyes was impossible to miss, though; as well as his long fluffy lashes and his thick eyebrows, still mostly sable-coloured. He must have had nearly black hair before he'd gone grey.
"I renounced my vows four years ago," Peggy continued. "I don't know why I misspoke."
His expression, as much as she could read it behind all this salt-and-pepper, remained aloof.
"Well, since you're here, may I have the keys, please?" he said and stretched an open palm towards her.
The subtext of his words was clear: her presence was uncalled for, and it needed to be remediated as soon as possible.
Peggy threw her bag's handle around her neck and started digging inside.
"Mr. Ravenscroft, there are certain documents you have to sign in, for the Committee," she said, carrying on with her excavations. "You will also need permits in order to connect the House to the mains. I've brought the welcome package for you. We offer it to all newcomers to Fleckney, just some useful information, and a QR code to sign up for a newsletter."
She finally located the keys and the folder with flyers, print-outs, and local ads.
"Who are 'we?'" he asked sardonically.
"Pardon?"
Peggy's hand with the folder was now hovering in the air. Ravenscroft plucked the keyring with his index finger and his thumb out of Peggy's hold, ignoring the package.
"Who are the 'we' who welcome newcomers to Fleckney, Ms. Brown?" His tone was caustic. "I've only been in the county for about five hours, and I've been visited by a Catholic padre, an Anglican deacon, two old biddies, a yoga instructor slash a peddler of organic cosmetics, a grocer, a milkman, and now... you. Surely, no more welcoming should be necessary."
Peggy swallowed a knot in her throat, suddenly quite unsure what to say. He studied her for a few more seconds and then sighed in obvious exasperation.
"Would it be possible to have the necessary papers delivered to me here?" It seems meaningful pauses weren't his only talent. His intimation ability was top-notch as well. "As you can see, I'm temporarily indisposed." He gently tapped the cane into the floor. "Perhaps, they can be mailed to me."
"I'll bring them myself!" Peggy rushed to offer her assistance. "Our postman, Mr. Wigglehorn, tends to be rather– inefficient with deliveries. What time would work for you?"
He gave her another of his long examining looks and sighed again.
"What is it exactly that you do, Ms. Brown?"
"I run a tour company," Peggy answered. "I've got a Master's degree in Historic Architecture and Conservation of Historic Buildings. So, I'm your liaison with the Tri-County Preservation Committee and the Fleckney Historic Society. Any support you need, you just let me know! Running a stately home can be a challenge! And I volunteer in a couple of organisations in Fleckney." She decided the understatement was a clever way to go, considering the man's apparent aversion to the countryside mores. "So, I move around. Stopping by with your papers won't be any–"
YOU ARE READING
The Mysteries of Bran House || Fleckney Gothic Mystery
Romanzi rosa / ChickLitPeggy Brown, a former Carmelite nun, is faced with a series of inexplicable events taking place in Bran House, a dilapidated manor that she agreed to help to restore to its former glory. The man who has recently come into the possession of the House...
