Disclaimer: Crimson Peak belongs to Guillermo del Toro and The Lodgers belongs to Brian O'Malley.

Summary: Sean Nally was supposed to die that fateful night when he tried to help Rachel escape her fate. He was supposed to be the price of her freedom. So why and how did he find himself in Allerdale Hall, far from home, serving the Sharpes?

Author's note: Please note that my first language is not English, it's French. If you find any mistakes or weird sentence, let me know, so I can better myself. While I know I am almost fluent and while I do read after myself and use Grammarly to help, sometimes, a mistake can pass by.

Entwined Souls

Chapter 6

The following night, Sean couldn't find comfort in Morpheus' arms, no matter how much he tried to. Not even Rachel's warm embrace helped. They had decided upon sharing a room at night, in all friendship and honour. Nothing controversial would happen anyway unless talking or playing cards would have counted for sexual innuendos. Her presence had a soothing effect on him. When he had fallen asleep in her arms the previous day, he had slept without dreaming. He had forgotten how amazing it felt to sleep without fear.

"Sean..." She whispered his name in her sleep

He found himself looking at her, smiling like an idiot, or at least, he felt like an idiot. The day had been tiring for her, between visiting Allerdale Hall, Lucille and her trying to find clothes from the lady's wardrobe that would fit her and all the paperwork that she needed to fill out. She was adamant on selling Loftus Hall and she had already found priests to try and set the spirits under the house at peace before the place would find a buyer. She had shown him the amount of money she owned. It was true the furniture of the manor, the painting, the jewels, were valuable.

"You know, just by selling them, your slate would be wiped clean." He had commented

She had indeed asked him for his help with the numbers, being a shop owner's son, he knew his way around bills.

"I don't want the house. I don't want to live there anymore. To live in Ireland again, maybe. In Wexford, maybe. But never again in Loftus Hall, never again in that village. I'd feel like I'd be spied on by the ghosts of my past."

After calculating how much Rachel would gain upon selling the house and its belongings, assuming she'd sell all of this to the price she had imagined, Sean had managed to determine that not only she'd be debt-free, she'd also have some savings for herself. Not a fortune, true. But she'd be able to rent a place of her own, maybe even invest in some financial plans for her money to grow bigger and thus increasing her wealth.

"I'll give the rest to Thomas and Lucille, for Allerdale. We are family, I want to help them and it's the least I can do. They welcomed me while we knew nothing of each other, they saved you. I'll find a job. I could try and write for a newspaper. There's an earl's daughter in Yorkshire that started to do so. Lady Edith Crawley, I believe."

"Or you could become the next Mary Shelley."

"You overestimate my talents. I thought I could try being a seamstress while writing. I must start somewhere and I'm not half bad with a needle."

It was stupid, he knew, but he couldn't help feeling proud of her, even now, hours later, when she was most likely dreaming about him. She was stronger than she looked, stronger than him even. Oh, he knew she'd say it was because she was used to living with ghosts and curses, a constant sword of Damocles above her head. There was truth in that, he could see it. Still, he felt she was superior to him, in every way.

"Well, if I can't sleep, I should just walk around." He thought

He left his bedroom and went to the stairs leading to the great hall. That was strange but he loved looking at the dust falling from the hole in the ceiling. It was easing, in a way. He briefly wondered how his mother and his sister were doing, if they thought of him, if Thomas' letter had reached them. The last thing he wanted was for them to worry about him. A creaky sound and cold atmosphere startled him and as he turned around, he saw a floating being. Its face was a skull instead of flesh and eyes, its figure hollow and it was a red as the clay under the house.

"Sean Nally..." It hissed

He blinked, thinking he was dreaming or hallucinating. The spectral appearance was still there, growing closer as it moved towards him, its icy skeleton finger strangely caressing his cheeks.

"H-how..."

Was Allerdale haunted too?! It seemed logical, Loftus Hall had been haunted and he knew Allerdale Hall also had its share of corpses. He was a young boy when it had happened but the new of Beatrice Shape found dead, no, massacred in her bathtub had reached his small Irish village. And he knew she certainly wasn't the only dark secret around the place. Huge aristocratic families all had dark spots on their names they tried to hide. Now that it was closer, Sean could see a gash on its head.

"Who... Who are you?" He managed to stutter

He wanted to run away, as far as possible but he felt his feet frozen, they wouldn't obey him. He was paralyzed by fear, his body shaking. He felt he was back in Loftus Hall, under the cellar, about to drown. The others' arms and bodies had also felt cold to the touch. He could almost feel his lungs burning again. Was he destined to become the prey of the undead? What had he done to deserve that?

"What do you want?" He kept asking, his voice barely higher than a murmur.

To his genuine surprise, the ghost caressed his cheek and weirdly enough, it almost felt gentle. It suddenly disappeared, only to reappear on the higher stairs. It looked at him as if it was waiting for him to join it. He found himself walking and obeying. He didn't know why. It was beyond stupidity at that point but he couldn't help it. Whatever this thing was, it had a purpose and it had sought him. The ghost took him to Lucille's chambers. Only then it completely vanished, allowing him to see that the lady's door was wide opened...

Only for him to see her kissing her brother in the neck, her hand trying to find its way under his trousers.

Lady Lucille Sharpe and her brother Thomas were reenacting the sin Rachel's ancestors had committed so long ago, leading their descendants to isolation and despair.

Thomas had been the first one to notice him, shortly followed by his sister when she had felt something was wrong with him. Sean was standing there and it was obvious he had seen everything. The siblings parted and Lucille was already planning how to get rid of him, permanently. He was a threat now, way too big to be kept.

"I could kill him and disguise it as a suicide, then I'll tell Rachel that his trauma was too big for him to fight. Yes... Shell shock. That will do the trick." She thought

However, the Irishman's reaction startled her. Surprised, most definitely. But she saw no trace of disgust in his blue eyes.

"That doesn't mean anything, he keeps to himself, besides, no one could accept that. Mama couldn't. Not that it stopped me though."

His first move was what shook her to the core, almost killing her murderous wish in its egg.

Sean raised his head, his eyes suddenly drawn to the ceiling and he simply turned his back, while not leaving and he simply stated:

"I... I didn't see anything. I'll leave you alone. I'm sorry for disturbing you, My Lord, My Lady."

As he started to walk away, Lucille took her shawl and followed him.

"Sean!" She called out. "I'm not stupid nor am I blind, you saw what we were doing."

"My Lady." He said. "Whatever Lord Thomas and you are doing is none of my business."

"You must think it's atrocious."

"Whatever I think doesn't matter."

"It's true that you know Rachel. You must know the history of the first owners of Loftus Hall. I tend to forget that."

She wasn't naïve. Sean certainly found it disgusting, like the rest of the world, not understanding that sometimes, soulmates could be found within the family.

"It's not about my friendship for Rachel."

She raised an eyebrow.

"Lord Thomas and you found me, nursed me back to health and offer me a home in exchange for my services, you have shown nothing but kindness and patience to me. It'd be ungrateful of me to judge or make remarks on your private lives. This house isn't mine, I'm a guest. I have nothing to say."

If he had to be completely honest with himself, Sean felt sick to the core. He couldn't understand how a brother and a sister, born from the same womb, weaned from the same breast, could even begin to feel physically attracted by one another. He knew aristocrats tended to marry each other, to marry between cousins but brothers and sisters?! But right now, he had nowhere to go and little money to get by. If he angered them, he'd be a beggar on the streets and no one would hire an Irishman, let alone a crippled one. Rachel would also be all alone again. He couldn't afford that. And it was true, the Sharpes had been nothing but wonderful to him.

"Nothing of it will come out of my mouth. I give you my word. While I know this is quite a weak guarantee. I'd understand if you said you don't trust me about it."

"Nothing at all?"

"Lord Thomas and you have my loyalty."

To say Lucille was baffled was an understatement. She had expected everything but that.

"He is certainly trying to save his skin, his job and his living, on top of also trying to remain with his dear little Rachel." She wondered. "A pragmatist."

She sighed.

"What were you even doing up there in the middle of the night?" She asked

"I couldn't sleep. So I decided to walk around the house. My feet must have led me to your rooms while I was deep in my thoughts. It won't happen again. I'm sorry for disturbing your peace, once more."

"How can I be certain of your silence?"

"No one would believe me if I spoke." He spoke. "Who would believe a crippled Irish boy lost in England? They'd say it's just another scum from Ireland, a rebel that should be shot right on the spot, especially when he is spitting on the family that so kindly took him in. Because you and your brother are loved, My Lady. A man like me fighting a family like yours? It's suicide. And as I said, I don't want to repay your generosity with tarnishing your good name."

"He has a point." Lucille thought

It was true. They were in England and the majority of people loathed Irishmen. He was a nobody, Thomas and she were socialites. And he seemed adamant on not speaking. That was a huge leap of faith, a risk she'd never take. She knew that. But the circumstances were different now. The man wanted to keep quiet, knew his place and felt bound to this house out of duty and honour. Virtues she actually liked.

"I'll keep an eye on you." She finally declared

He kept silent but nodded.

"If that is all, I'll go back to my chambers. Goodnight, Lady Lucille."

"Goodnight, Sean."

As she was returning to Thomas, Lucille briefly wondered if she was right, if she hadn't committed a folly. However, up to this day, Sean had never broken his words. He had promised to work for his living, which he did. He was efficient. He was discrete. And he had spoken of loyalty. Again another quality she liked.

"Please, don't kill him." Thomas pleaded once he saw her again.

"I don't plan to." She replied

His relief was apparent as well as his surprise a few seconds after.

"Really?"

"I have my reasons. He can be convincing. Besides, you still need him for your machine and he keeps Rachel out of our business."

She softly caressed his hair.

"Now, brother." She lovingly said. "Where were we?"

To Be Continued