Hello everyone! I've returned at last! So glad to have finally made it to September! Thank you to CCangel, AlleyCAT19, and withloveee for your reviews! Also, to clarify from the last chapter, Edward was after Sara initially because he confused her for Elizabeth (if you look at pictures of Marsha Thomason and Kylie Bunbury, my Elizabeth faceclaim, they do look a bit alike) and his intentions were to do exactly what he did in the original Haunted Mansion film, which would have ended poorly for everyone. Once he saw Emilia, however, he realized his mistake, and here we are now :)
So on with the story!
Disclaimer: I am not, nor ever will be, the owner of the Haunted Mansion film rights.
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Barely had Edward and Elizabeth left Madame Leota when Ezra, Emma, and the Evers came barreling through her door, the key gripped securely in Jim's hand. There was no way they were losing that thing now.
"Alright." He said, practically shaking it in her face. "Now, we went to hell and back to get this thing. All I want to know now is where's the door out of here."
"First, you must find the trunk."
Everyone stared at her confoundedly.
"Trunk?" Jim echoed.
"Yes, trunk." She replied drearily, tired of having to explain such simple things to these people.
"Not door?" Jim clarified.
"No. Not door. Trunk."
The condescension in her voice made Jim want to drop kick that crystal ball of hers through the ceiling.
"All you said I had to do was find this key!" He held up said object. "I got the key and now – now you're telling me this story about a trunk! The key is the answer to all, remember?!"
"Look, I don't make the rules, okay? I just work here." Madame Leota glared up at him.
That did it. If she was going to keep acting so disinterested in their fate, then Jim had no problems with dragging her right down with them, to hell with whatever voodoo magic she possessed.
"Okay, that's it. That's the last straw. I've had enough of this nonsense." He declared.
He shoved the key back in his pocket and approached the table with an intent that the gypsy woman didn't like at all.
"Hey, what are you doing?" She demanded.
To both her horror and fury, she saw the room around her shift as Jim took her crystal ball into his hands and lifted her from her perch, carefully moving towards the doorway with the others following nervously behind.
"Put me down! This is bad luck! This is very bad luck!"
"Yeah, I'll show you bad luck." Jim threatened. "I'm tired of playing around with you."
"I'm getting nauseous!"
"You'll get over it."
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The small entourage picked their way through the miscellaneous items in the attic, following the incensed gypsy's begrudgingly given instructions.
"Please, don't drop me." She urged her carrier. "I'm fragile. I'm very fragile!"
"Don't talk to me about being fragile, I'm the one who's feeling fragile right now!" Jim shot back at her.
Sara rolled her eyes from her place behind them, then turned her attention to the task at hand, searching through the many piles of furniture to find the trunk that Madame Leota spoke of. Something inside of her said that they were running out of time.
Thankfully, it was only a few steps later when she and Jim both spotted what they were looking for.
"Is that it?" Sara asked Madame Leota.
"That's it."
The trunk was unassuming from the outside; it's black paint was faded and chipped, and the dust that coated it proved that it hadn't been opened in a great deal of time, but aside from these trivial details, there was nothing that was especially worth noting about it. This made the group all the more curious about the secrets it held within.
"Alright, now we're in business." Jim muttered.
He handed off the crystal ball to a very reluctant Ezra – who, in turn, handed it over to an equally reluctant Emma - and kneeled down in front of the trunk to unlock it, with Sara and the kids peering intently over his shoulder. When the key slid perfectly into the lock, they all released a sigh of relief, and Jim shared one last anticipating glance with Sara before lifting the lid back on its hinges. Again, they were surprised to be greeted not with treasure (as Michael had hoped for) or with an exit strategy (as Jim had hoped for), but with a significant pile of old trinkets and documents – albeit, many of them probably antiques, but still nothing that they had been hoping for.
"Hey, how do I know what to look for? This thing is full of junk!" Jim protested.
"Find the thing that must be read, lest your heart be filled with dread." Madame Leota directed him.
Both Jim and Sara reached in and began to sort through the items: books, pictures, papers…
"There's nothing in here red." Jim mumbled disgruntledly.
But in the two seconds after the words had left his mouth, Sara's eye happened to be caught by a flash of color sticking out from near the bottom of the trunk, as though begging to be discovered. She delicately pulled it out to reveal a red piece of parchment…one that had Elizabeth's name scrawled across the front. Instantly, her heart began to pound in her chest, and she knew that this was the answer they'd been seeking.
"Jim, look." She touched his shoulder.
His eyes landed on the parchment in her hands. At first, he looked baffled, then his face lit up with the same understanding that Sara had come to.
"Wait a minute." He announced to the others, taking the parchment from her hands. "There's a letter here. It's a letter."
Eager to turn the events of this night into a memory as soon as possible, Jim wasted no time in removing the wax stamp and unfolding the letter's contents, which he began to read aloud.
"Yes, my dear heart, I will marry you." He recited.
Emma and Ezra's heads both immediately shot up.
"I will love you for all eternity, and tonight, at last, we will be together. I do."
"Forever yours…Elizabeth." Sara finished in awe.
A stunned silence came over the group as they all comprehended exactly what the letter meant.
"She didn't kill herself." Emma finally breathed out.
All this time she'd been tormenting herself for not seeing what Elizabeth was going through – for not being there to stop her when she took the poison – and now…now she was questioning why Elizabeth's death hadn't seemed more suspicious to her in the first place.
"She wanted to be with him." Ezra murmured.
Like his wife, he'd spent the majority of the past hundred years wondering how he could have failed Elizabeth so severely. She had seemed so happy on the night of the ball, and then, out of the blue, had done the most horrendous deed that any of them could have envisioned; and yes, he'd been distrustful of the circumstances at first – after all, Elizabeth had loved the master with all of her heart; it didn't make sense for her to turn to suicide – but who was he to bring up such a painful prospect so soon after her death? And when Edward had killed himself…well, he'd thought it was all over then.
"Yeah, and somebody gave him the wrong letter."
Jim answered so casually that it took all of them a moment to grasp the dark implication of his words.
If Elizabeth didn't kill herself…
…who did?
"Yes, well done, Mr. Evers."
A grating voice behind them made the whole group whirl around in fright, and when they caught sight of the pale, menacing man looming in the shadows behind them, suddenly the truth was all too clear.
"Of course." Sara whispered to herself.
Ramsley. It was Ramsley who had murdered Elizabeth. The most obvious choice that any of them could have suspected, and yet, he'd managed to go the entire night without once having his morals questioned. Hell, he'd managed to go for over a hundred years evading justice for his atrocious crime.
But not anymore, Sara thought as she stared at him in pure loathing.
"I must say I'm impressed. You and your wife are more persistent than I would have ever imagined." Ramsley scowled at them.
His plan was falling to pieces, barely hanging by a thread, but he'd be damned if he let these pathetic mortals get the better of him.
"The butler did it?!" Jim exclaimed incredulously. "You got to be kidding me!"
Meanwhile, Emma and Ezra could do nothing but stare in shock at the villain who'd taken their girl from them. Had they both been blind? From the very beginning, Ramsley had made his disdain for Elizabeth clear – he'd beaten her for heaven's sake! – but they never could have predicted that he would be driven to such madness. To kill the woman who meant everything to the man who'd practically been his son…it was beyond betrayal.
Slowly, Ramsley's head turned towards them.
"I will deal with you two later." He growled.
The two ghosts shuddered and, against their will, vanished into the air, leaving the Evers family to face their captor alone. Sara was on her feet in seconds.
"Why did you kill Elizabeth?" She confronted him.
"Because the master would not listen to reason." Ramsley justified. "He had everything in the world, and yet he was willing to throw it all away for love. I did tell him it would end badly."
"You're a real cold dude." Jim accused him, standing to join Sara.
"No, Mr. Evers. I am a rational man. It was my responsibility to the house. My, duty, sir, to see to it that the boy did not make a foolish error in judgement. Running away with that girl would have destroyed this house. It would have destroyed everything! And I could not stand by and watch it all fall to ruin."
Sara could see it so easily: an unsuspecting Elizabeth drinking from a poisoned cup, then dying alone while her killer made his escape through the very same passageways that she and Jim had gotten lost in earlier, self-assured in the knowledge that Mr. Gracey would never learn of his treachery. This man was responsible for everything that the mansion's residents had suffered through. Apparently, Megan was having similar thoughts.
"Punch his face in, dad!" She urged Jim on.
"Yeah, but first I'm gonna tell his master what really happened." He declared defiantly.
Sara sent him a warning look.
"The master must never know." Ramsley replied unsurprisingly. "Edward and his love may have received their 'happy' reunion, but the girl doesn't remember everything…and I intend to keep it that way."
"What do you mean 'happy reunion'?" Jim questioned. "That's not her! That's Emilia!"
"I think you will find she begs to differ. But that is of little importance now."
The butler stalked across the room towards Elizabeth's wedding dress, still wrapped in its shroud.
"The only thing that matters is that the master's pain must end. And it will end tonight. The curse will be broken, and we can all finally move on."
"Alright, that's it, man." Jim stepped forward, prepared to get rough if he had to, but determined to get his family out. "Where's Emmy?"
"Getting ready for her wedding, of course." Ramsley seemed amused by his forceful tone.
His words caught all of them off guard. Emmy? Getting married to Mr. Gracey?
"What wedding? He can't marry her!" Jim argued. "He's dead, and she's not!"
A morbid smirk appeared on Ramsley's face.
"True…but that can be easily corrected. Life, I'm afraid, is such a delicate state." He spoke with a sickening triumph.
Sara gasped and clapped her hand over her mouth in horror as she realized what the butler intended to do, and Michael and Megan clung to her fearfully, full of regret for having initially wanted to help their nanny be with Mr. Gracey. Jim, on the other hand, was pissed. This lunatic wasn't about to threaten a member of his family and get away with it.
"If you put one finger on that girl, I swear I'll kill you!" He shouted.
His fist swung up to punch Ramsley as his daughter had so aptly suggested, but this quickly proved to be a mistake when, instead of the resounding thwack they expected, a harmless whoosh filled the air as Jim's hand went right through the pale figure. He foolishly attempted the action again, and wound up stumbling through the butler as he leisurely turned to mock him.
"How wonderful. You're going to kill a ghost." He jeered.
"Get away from him!" Sara tried to run to Jim's side.
All it took was a flick of Ramsley's wrist to send her flying backwards, and when her head hit the floor, she was no longer conscious.
"Sara!" Jim screamed for her.
"Mom!" Michael and Megan chorused.
Before Jim could stop them, they rushed towards her, and he watched helplessly as Ramsley gestured with his fingers and sent a large chest hurtling at them from behind, which crashed into their legs, buckling them out from underneath them and forcing them to topple back into the chest, whose lid instantly closed and locked.
"Let them go!" Jim bellowed.
Again, he tried to attack the old butler, and again, merely flew right through him, tumbling to the floor and up against the chest which held his children. The look on Ramsley's face reminded him of a predator taunting its prey.
"You're gonna let my kids out of here, you're gonna take us to Emilia, and you're gonna let us out of here right now!" Jim ordered him, despite knowing how hopeless it was.
The satisfaction on Ramsley's face was replaced with irritation at the imbecile's ridiculous attempt to gain control.
"You want out…fine."
He kneeled down in front of Jim and did what he'd been wanting to do since the man had dared to set foot in Gracey Mansion, reaching out his gloved hand and gripping him securely by the throat.
"Let me show you out."
There was nothing Jim could do but struggle as Ramsley lifted them both high into the tower, flying up to position them so that they were level with the windows, and when Jim saw the cruel, dark rage in his assailant's eyes, he fully believed he was done for.
Sara…kids…I'm sorry.
"Now, for the last time." Ramsley growled. "Goodnight, Mr. Evers."
And with a single thrust of his arm, he threw Jim right through the window and out into the stormy night.
XXXXX
"Everything will be taken care of, love." Edward promised me as we hurried down the corridor arm in arm towards my room. "I'll have Emma fetch your mother's gown and she and Ezra will help you get ready."
"What about the Evers?" I inquired.
An anxious knot was forming in my stomach as I contemplated how on earth I was going to explain all of this to them.
Edward looked wary as we came to a stop outside my bedroom door.
"What about them?"
"They need to know what's happening." I reasoned with him.
His lips pressed together in a grim line as a skeptical expression came over him, and I reached the understanding that my mention of the Evers family had aggravated him far more than I expected it would.
"Edward?" I shifted to stand in front of him. "What's wrong?"
He released an uneasy breath.
"Elizabeth…I'm not sure we should tell them." He admitted.
The confession startled me. I took a step forward, peering directly into his eyes to try and determine if he was serious.
"What are you saying? They're my family, why shouldn't we tell them?" I asserted my feelings on the matter.
"That's exactly the point, my darling! They're not your family. We are. Myself, and Emma and Ezra – we're the ones who truly know you. You're not Emilia anymore. The version of you that they knew is gone."
"But she's not, Edward." I explained. "Emilia is still a part of me, just as I was always a part of her. Just because I couldn't remember this part of my life, it doesn't give the life I lived with the Evers any less value…and they've been good to me, Edward. They took me in. They cared for me. So, yes, I consider them my family just as much as I consider you and Emma and Ezra my family…but that doesn't diminish my love for any of you."
"Of course not, love. But that's not what worries me." He surprised me once again.
"Then what?" I asked more insistently.
For a moment, it seemed like he might not answer as he let out a huff of air and looked down at the ground, and when he tried to take hold of my hands, I put up some resistance. My stubborn refusal to accept his grasp finally made him look up at me in vexation.
"Tell me." I commanded.
He sighed.
"Elizabeth, I know that you care for them, and I'm extremely grateful that they were there for you when I couldn't be, but how do you expect them to take this? Not only will they have to accept that you're not who they think you are, but that, somehow, after less than twelve hours here, you've agreed to marry a man that – to their knowledge, at least – you'd never met until tonight. Who happens to be a ghost, might I add. Oh, and let's not forget that tiny little detail about you killing yourself tonight. I'm sure they'll be thrilled about that." He spoke these last words dryly, making his uncertainty regarding my decision clear.
I smirked up at him, finally reaching out and taking his hands in mine, much to his relief.
"Well, it's a good thing I won't be telling them all this alone then, isn't it?" I raised an eyebrow at him. "That is to say…you will help me explain it to them, won't you?"
He looked at me a moment, then sighed again and nodded.
"If that is your wish. But…may I offer my own condition?"
"If that is your wish." I copied him.
A quiet laugh rumbled in his chest as he raised my hands to his lips and kissed them, but then his expression grew solemn.
"We'll tell the Evers everything, as you desire…but, please, Elizabeth, allow us to wait until after we're married." He entreated me.
At my bewildered look, he went on to explain.
"I know what it's like to lose someone you love, Elizabeth, and if my instinct is correct then something tells me the Evers won't approve of you wanting to marry me, especially if they learn you intend to stay here and die. If you do decide to go with them, I won't stop you, but…please, love, allow me the happiness of being able to call you mine, even for a moment. I would let you go gladly if I could know what it feels like to marry you."
With every word out of his mouth, my heart grew heavier and heavier. After everything he had been through to be with me again, here he was telling me that he'd willingly give me up for the sake of the Evers and their own desire for my well-being. My chest swelled with adoration for the man before me as I stood on my toes to speak in his ear.
"Oh, Edward." I proclaimed. "I swear to you, no matter what they say, I would never, ever leave you. I hope you know that. But…"
I pulled back to meet his eyes.
"…I understand. And I agree."
His face lit up.
"Truly?"
"Truly." I swore to him. "After we're married, we'll tell them the truth about everything, and then…then I'll take the poison."
"Darling, you don't have to – "
"Do we have an agreement, Mr. Gracey?" I held up my hand in front of his face as if expecting him to shake it.
Instead, he caught me by my waist and unexpectedly dipped me backwards, leaving me clutching onto him for dear life as he beamed down at me and let me dangle mere inches from the floor.
"I believe we do, Ms. Henshaw." He finally answered.
We stared at each other for a few breathless seconds until he lifted me upright again and released me.
"In the meantime, I believe we both have a wedding to prepare for."
The mere thought of it made my stomach swim with butterflies and my cheeks go a bright shade of pink.
"That we do." I nodded.
He chuckled softly and brushed a strand of hair back from my ear, which only made my nerves even more incontrollable.
"I'll meet you at the top of the ballroom staircase in one hour." He promised me.
"I'll try not to be late." I teased, giving him a small curtsy.
"Don't worry." He grinned. "I'll have Ramsley on stand-by in case you get lost."
My breath hitched.
All mirth was instantly banished from my mind at the sound of that one name.
Ramsley.
"Until then, Ms. Henshaw."
Edward was smiling as he swiftly pecked my cheek, but I hardly registered it, nor did I notice him make his way back down the corridor until I realized that I was completely alone.
Ramsley…
My blood ran cold, my vision began to blur, and everything inside me clenched in terror as the memories behind that locked door in my head began to pound against it with a ferocity that made me dread what they had to reveal about the nature of my death.
Dazedly, my hand searched for the doorknob to my room, and when I found it, I barely managed to get the door open, I was trembling so badly.
"Might I speak with you in the library, Ms. Henshaw?"
Through the cracks in my memory came words and images that made it hard to breathe.
"If running away is what you both wish, then I shall assist you in the best way that I can."
The rasping voice I knew far too well continued to utter haunting words in my ear as I stumbled across the room to my old vanity, leaning heavily against it as I tried to control my shaking and my racing heart.
"A toast, Ms. Henshaw."
A chalice…filled with poisoned wine…
"To Master Edward Gracey."
And I was falling.
Choking.
Dying.
"Goodnight, Ms. Henshaw."
And suddenly it was all there.
Every terrible, awful, agonizing second of that night came screaming back to me, and at long last, I knew why Edward's story had seemed so wrong. I had agreed to elope with him. Before the ball, I had gone to his room and slipped my letter beneath his door…a letter which he never got to read. Instead, he'd received a false suicide note, written by the very person who – at the moment he'd been reading it – had been downstairs handing me a poisoned cup.
I hadn't killed myself as everyone believed. I'd been murdered.
And as I raised my head to the mirror in frantic realization, my eyes met the cold, vicious stare of my murderer.
"You!"
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CLIFFHANGER! You are all wonderful human beings! I'll have another chapter up next week!
Elactress
