Fic: Mr. & Mrs. John Moore (aka Miss Sara Howard Moore) VIII: Beaded Pearls (7/10)
Title: Mr. & Mrs. John Moore (aka Sara Howard Moore) VIII: Beaded Pearls (7/10)
Author: BradyGirl_12
Pairings/Characters (this chapter): John/Sara, Julia Ogden, Greta Bremer, Miranda Minton
Fandoms: The Alienist/Murdoch Mysteries
Genres: Angst, Drama, Historical, Holiday, Horror, Mystery, Suspense
Rating (this chapter): G
Warnings (this chapter): None
Spoilers: None
Summary: Halloween still clings to Pine Grove like cobwebs.
Chapter Summary: A blizzard presents a problem.
Date Of Completion: April 11, 2021
Date Of Posting: November 19, 2022
Disclaimer: I don’t own ‘em, TNT, Shaftesbury Films and The Canadian Broadcasting Company do, more’s the pity.
Word Count (this chapter): 1452
Feedback welcome and appreciated.
The entire series can be found here.
Spirits are wispy.
Ethereal,
And diaphanous
Until they strike.
Kezia Mirabeau
"Magic"
1831 C.E.
"We're not going anywhere. It's a blizzard out there!"
John stamped his feet and snow fell off his coat to the floor.
"John!" Sara protested.
"What?"
"You scared us to death!"
John continued brushing himself off. "I thought you didn't believe in ghosts."
"Don't be a wisenheimer."
"Well, whatever you think of me, we're still not going anywhere."
"Surely we can get back to town," said Julia.
John shook his head and more snowflakes fell to the floor. "The blizzard came up fast. We're pretty much snowed in "
"What about the horses?"
"I got them into the barn and provided food and water. They're happier than we are."
"Good thing we brought lanterns," Sara said.
"Peachy."
John knew he was being sharp-tongued but he was nervous. He did not like this.
"Shall we go to the library and search for another journal?" Julia asked.
"Why not? Not much else to do."
"Put your coat and hat in one of the bedrooms," said Sara. "Good, you brought in a blanket."
"Yes, it was in my saddlebag."
"Use it to warm up."
"Yes, dear."
Julia watched this marital byplay in amusement. John clomped off to the other wing as Sara called after him, "Meet you in the library."
The women went downstairs and removed their hats. They looked out the window and saw the snow piling up.
"Goodness," Julia said. "I feel right at home."
"Pity we aren't in Canada. A handsome Mountie might come and rescue us."
"There are an abundance of them in my country."
"Delightful." Sara scanned a row of books. "These need a feather duster."
"I didn't take you for a housekeeper."
Sara smiled. "It's this house. Warps the perceptions."
Julia laughed. "I suppose you're right. I'm not too thrilled about this place myself."
Sara picked out Abigail Biggsby's journal. "I can understand why people went crazy in this house."
"Hmm." Julia went to the adjoining bookcase. "Wasn't the date of the seance significant?"
"I'd say so. It was Halloween of 1876."
"So twenty-two years ago, Madame Minton presided over a spooky seance that channeled Emily Biggsby."
"Correct."
Julia read the spines of books as she talked. "Is Madame Minton still around?"
"In Cloverdale? That's a good question."
"Abigail indicated that she was a resident."
"It was over two decades ago. She possibly moved away."
"I think we should talk to her."
"Provided we ever get out of here?" Sara asked dryly.
Julia took a book off the shelf. "You survived a night here."
"Barely."
Julia looked up in surprise. "I thought you were dismissive of any ghostly doings."
"I still believe it was only a dream, but this house..."
Julia nodded. "I understand." She felt on edge, too. It was cold and damp in here. She opened the book and sneezed.
"Careful, it's musty around here," Sara said.
Julia coughed. "Yes, I see. Dust piles up."
Sara sighed."Dusty 'n' musty."
"Sounds like a vaudeville act."
"You're a fan of vaudeville, aren't you?"
Julia laughed. "It's obvious, huh?"
"Some ladies are not fond of vaudeville."
"Some ladies are too stuck-up for their own good."
Sara smiled. "Agreed."
John appeared in the doorway with the blanket draped around his shoulders. "Find anything?"
"Not yet." Sara looked out the window. "It's really coming down."
"That's what blizzards do."
"Very sharp."
Julia smiled as she looked out the other window. The snow was coming down at a rapid pace, blanketing everything in white. It was both peaceful and fierce, an interesting dichotomy. The marital badinage continued behind her as the blizzard swirled outside the old house. If she had to be stuck in this house, at least it would be entertaining.
John sat down on the dusty couch. "Maybe we should play parlor games."
"You better shut off your lantern. We need to conserve," Sara said.
"True, we might be here awhile." John shut off his lantern, adding more darkness to the library.
"Peachy."
"Peaches aren't in season, dearest."
"Yes, sure," Sara said tartly.
"Pretty sarcastic, aren't we?"
"It's what alienists call a 'defense mechanism'."
"Is that so, Julia?"
"Yes, it's so. Sarcasm wards off ghosts."
John looked at her with narrowed eyes. "I feel my leg being pulled."
"Now about the defense mechanism," Julia said with a smile.
"You warmed up yet?" Sara asked John.
"I may need some cuddling."
Sara shook her head. While she exhibited great umbrage, Julia noticed the concern in Sara's eyes. Her affection grew for this charming young couple.
A gust of wind blew against the windowpanes, snow creating fanciful patterns on the glass.
Julia frowned. "It's cold in here."
"No firewood for a decent fire," John said
"No, I mean, I felt a gust come in here."
John and Sara exchanged cryptic looks. "It is chilly in this house," Sara said
"Listen, my friends, I know what I felt, and I saw that look between you."
"Guilty as charged," Sara said sheepishly.
The lights in the two lanterns wavered and dimmed. From down the hall came the sound of voices
& & & & & &
Earlier that day, just before the blizzard started, Greta Bremer answered the knock on her kitchen door.
"Miranda! How nice to see you."
"May I come in, Greta?*
"Certainly."
In a matter of moments both women were enjoying cups of hot tea at the kitchen table. Greta had also set out her homemade gingersnaps.
"I haven't seen you in awhile," Greta said.
Greta was always amazed at how little her friend aged. In the thirty-five years she had known her, Miranda's dark hair was lightly streaked with gray, but only a touch. A Mediterranean complexion showed no further wrinkles, and her weight never changed.
"I've been out of town. I went to Boston and spent some time at the Metzger Institute."
"What kind of a place is that?"
"A learning center. Very academic."
Greta noticed the sidestepping of her question. Miranda Minton could be a woman of mystery. "Glad to see you."
"Same here. Not a lot of people do "
"You've never cared what other people thought."
Miranda sipped her tea. Jet earrings dangled, matching a simple seed pearl necklace as she swirled a spoon in her teacup. Her dark eyes were solemn as she said, "I don't. Just stating a fact."
"You seem troubled."
Miranda looked at her friend. "Do you remember when you first moved to Cloverdale?*
"Sure do. It was the spring of '76, and there was a big to-do because of the Centennial. It was a good time to open a boardinghouse. People needed.places to stay in town for some of the events held that year."
Miranda nodded. "Do you remember Halloween of that year?"
"Yes, there was a big party at the Collinswood place. Kids did some trick-or-treating, I made sure to have plenty of cookies to give out to avoid tricks," she chuckled.
Miranda tapped her spoon on the rim of the teacup and put it in the saucer. "You remember what happened at Pine Grove?"
Greta felt a little shiver. "Yes, I remember the rumors."
"I went there that night."
Greta was surprised, yet not surprised. Miranda Minton had never admitted to being there that night, but Greta had always suspected. It was no secret that Miranda conducted seances, and some people in town had engaged her services for spiritualist purposes, but for some reason Miranda had never laid claim to a seance at Pine Grove.
Greta stirred her tea. "And...?"
Miranda's eyes were unreadable. "The spirits were a mix."
"What?"
"Of friendly and not-so-friendly."
"Ah " Greta sipped her tea.
"Yes, ah." Miranda said sighed. "The spirits were particularly strong on Halloween."
Greta felt uncomfortable. Spirits were supposed to be ungodly, but many people in the 19th century believed in such things. Did she?
"Maybe there are ghosts in there. My current boarders had a strange experience in the house."
"Oh?"
"Yes." Greta shook her head. "And now they're at the Mansion again."
"What?"
"Dr. Ogden needed to see for herself what the place is like."
"That's not a good idea "
"I agree, but the young woman who inherited Pine Grove wants to make it a showplace again."
Miranda shook her head. "It will never work."
Greta felt a shiver. She hoped her boarders would be safe.
& & & & & &
John turned on his lantern and the trio left the library clutching their lanterns. They quietly crept down the hall toward the dining room.
A sudden gust of wind blew down the hall. The lanterns went out and fog rolled in.
"Can you say deja vu?" John rasped
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