Lady Anne and the Howl in the Dark by Donna Lea Simpson Read Free Book Online

we was seekin’ shelter to talk.”
    “And what did you do when this creature jumped out at you?”
    “I ran away,” she said. She picked up a brush and began to clean the hair from its bristles.
    “And what did Jamey do?”
    “Followed me.”
    “Immediately?”
    “Near enough,” Ellen said. “A minute or so later.”
    “What delayed him?”
    Ellen frowned and thumbed the brush, absently playing with the bristles. “I don’t know, milady.”
    “What did he say when he caught up to you?”
    She blushed and looked away, setting down the brush on the highly polished dressing table.
    “I see. Probably nothing beyond some personal nonsense to comfort you.”
    She nodded. Anne watched her for a minute, but was satisfied that the young woman was telling the truth such as she knew it. The fellow’s “comfort” was likely a few kisses and a cuddle. “You say it was an animal but that it stood on its hind legs.”
    Ellen nodded but didn’t offer anything more.
    “Did it growl or bark or make any other noise?”
    “It howled, milady.”
    “Howled.”
    “Yes, the snout went up, kind of, and it howled. Jamey said since ’twas the night of the full moon, it must be a werewolf.”
    Anne pondered that, remembering the eerie howling she had heard the previous night. “And that is all you saw before you ran?”
    “Oh, yes, milady. I ran toward the back kitchen garden and through the gate.”
    “And that’s where Jamey caught up with you?”
    She nodded.
    “Ellen, I no more believe you saw a werewolf than I believe that people can sprout wings and fly. Your young man and a confederate are in the business of frightening young women into their arms, no doubt, a shabby trick but meant just as a lark.”
    “Oh, no, milady,” Ellen said, sitting down on a nearby stool. Such a breach of proper behavior seemed out of character for the reticent maid and spoke to her complete absorption in the topic. “Others since have seen the werewolf, milady, and for longer’n me.”
    “Really?”
    “Yes.”
    Anne again considered the howling she had heard, a precursor to the young woman’s screams. “Ellen, tell me who else has—”
    “Ellen!” A peremptory female voice from the hallway beyond the door harshly repeated the girl’s name.
    The maid leaped to her feet and rushed out to the hallway, where two voices, hers and the authoritative woman, could be heard, Ellen murmuring apologies and the other scolding.
    Anne marched to the door and flung it open.
    A plump woman with protuberant eyes whirled and adjusted her expression from one of command to a more complaisant look. “Milady,” she said, softening her voice, “your portmanteaux have been brought to the lodge by a neighboring gentleman. Andrew will bring them upstairs momentarily.”
    Anne eyed Ellen, and then, noting the return of tears to the maid’s eyes, turned to the housekeeper. Levelly, she said, “You are the most excellent Mrs. Hailey, of whom I have heard so many good things. You were helpful to poor Lydia last night in her distress. Thank you for the loan of Ellen—I would not have been able to dress without her, and thank you for your own services in rendering my limited wardrobe wearable once again.” She waved down at the skirts of her traveling dress.
    The housekeeper curtseyed and said, “You’re welcome, I’m sure, milady.” She fingered her chatelaine and added, eyeing Anne’s snaky hairstyle, “I was pleased to do it. I only hope Ellen has been helpful.”
    “She has, thank you. Is Lady John better this morning?”
    “Poor lamb,” the housekeeper said in a confidential tone as Ellen slipped away down the hall. “Still sleeping. Gave her another sleeping draught in the middle of the night, for she was having dreadful nightmares.”
    “Let me know when she’s able to see me. Now, you say a neighbor has brought my portmanteaux to the house. May I express to this gentleman my personal gratitude?”
    “Yes, milady—he’s in the