A New Estate - Crimson Peak

Chapter Nineteen

By that afternoon, Father had decided to join the men outside and began to help them with some of the jobs, meanwhile Mother and I had gone to the library and found the perfect distraction from the tidying we had planned on continuing.

Though we hadn't intended, or even expected, to find a library during our room search, it was a spectacular find.

We had always had an affinity for books, Father and two of my three brothers had no interest in literature and never really understood how we could whittle time away staring at the pages.

I sat at a table near a large window, carefully flicking through a book as delicately as if I were holding a child.

Mother was arranging piles of various bits and pieces whilst dusting, at least until she too stumbled across a title that intrigued her.

At some point she had reached a desk that sat to my left and took it upon herself to organise the various bits of old paperwork we could discard.

"This place is unlike anything I have ever seen before," I smiled, not looking away from the copy of The Devil's Elixir that lay in my hands.

"I still think this place is a shamble, definitely not worthy to serve our daughter as a home."

"But I love it."

"I suppose you were always into the more unconventional things," I could hear the eye roll in her tone.

"Enjoying the scarier things in life isn't all that unconventional, Mother."

"It certainly is to me."

"Many young ladies enjoy a bit of fright every now and then, it's not as if it gives me night terrors."

"It did always take a lot to scare you," she hummed, not sounding at all interested in what I was saying.

I shook my head a little with a small wistful smile.

A sudden exclamation from Mother made me flinch in surprise, causing me to almost fumble with the book in my grasp as my grip loosens just a bit.

I may be hard to scare, but causing me to jump was easier than I cared to admit.

"What is it?" I asked, closing the book and turning to face her.

In her hands seemed to be a set of photographs, some in worse condition than others, but all piled together none the less.

Mother had a cautious flip through, revelling in the images that mostly consisted of the same three people at varying stages in life, after each picture she would turn it over and read the inscription on the back were there one.

"Ah, I do remember meeting him," she hummed to herself.

I leaned over to observe the picture that was currently on top.

Stood in front of a set up window display were two dark haired people, one male and one female, were I to hazard a guess I would say they were near to their early thirties or late twenties.

They both stood tall and proud, staring with hardened faced towards the camera.

My heart freezes as my eyes linger on the male, his eyes seeming to keep locked onto mine with a solemn expression through the paper.

Images of the ghostly figure beside my bed the other night re-emerge and my heart falters a little.

Taking the photograph from Mother, I turn it over to read the neat inscription on the back.

"Sir Thomas Sharpe and Lady Lucille Sharpe, 24th October 1883," I read quietly to myself.

"I do vaguely remember meeting them now upon seeing their faces, your father is right, he was a charming man," she stated over my shoulder, looking at the picture briefly before nodding slowly. "He definitely matured in the years since I met him."