A New Estate - Crimson Peak

Chapter Eighteen

It was a short while after we were sat down with our drinks that the couriers emerged from the lift, wheeling out the remains which were respectfully covered with a white sheet.

A solemn silence fell over the group, a collective silent mourning for a stranger.

The couriers wasted no time in wheeling him out, not sparing a glance back.

Hille raised his delicate cup in the air, as if saluting to the deceased with a hot beverage was a sign of respect.

For good nature, a few of us joined in with a small nod before taking a tentative sip of our respective drinks.

"Works better with alcohol," David grumbled, though he still raised his own cup. "But who knew if the bastard drank?"

We all look towards him with a variety of looks, mostly of annoyance and disagreement.

It seemed that the more days that passed, the worse David's attitude got as he sat around twiddling his thumbs and waiting to continue his work.

"Is there really need to speak ill of the dead in his own home?" Father quipped, shooting David an unpleasant look.

The other man merely shrugged, "Not like he's here to hear it."

"I agree with Father," I nodded with a sombre expression. "This was originally his house and we should respect that."

"Respect a man who lived in the most unsettling mansion I have ever worked on, out in the middle of the sticks alone with his sister? It all seems a little bit suspicious to me."

"There was nothing 'suspicious' about it," Robert snapped defensively. "If you read and understood their story-"

"Oh, cut it out, Bert, he was just a mere man, a mere dead man now."

"He was still a baronet," I chimed in weakly.

"By sheer circumstance," David sneered back. "So he could put 'Sir' in front of his name and act as if he were anything more than a commoner."

"That is enough!"

The room falls silence once more, leaving only a small trace of an echo to reverberate around the room.

Everyone stared at Father, who had stood from his chair and is fixing David with a look of disgust.

David seemed to shrink into himself under the scrutiny.

My father was never one to yell, Mother was typically the one easy to temper whilst Father remained calm and rarely raised his voice even when we were at our worst as children, hearing his voice echo around the room sent a wave of discomfort down my spine.

"Now, you listen to me and you listen good," Father continued, his voice becoming the most unnerving calm I had ever heard, "Sir Sharpe, and likewise his sister, may not have been the most highest standing of society, but this was still their manor and I will not stand by silently and witness a man insult another in what was once his home, especially not after his body was removed mere minutes ago."

The silence lingers and thickens between us all for a moment longer, David grumbled once more after a brief pause and sunk down further in his seat.

Father let out a long breath and sat back down, the rest of us finding a new fascination in our drinks.

Footsteps soon break the quiet as the men with the gurney returned, their gazes slowly sweeping across us all.

"Are there any other bodies for us to collect?"