Updated: This story is now Completed. I am working my way through updating all of the chapters. I started this in 2016 and I finally finished it in 2025. A lot has changed.
Chapter 1
It is a truth generally accepted that any activity, common or otherwise, that occurs within the house of a gentleman is the business of that gentleman and that of his nearest relations.
When dealing with matters of the paranormal two options are presented. The first, and the most common, is to go about one's business continually denying any existence of such spirits or spectres that may cause harm or discomfort so long as it does not affect those outside of the house. This is done primarily to keep one's sanity from being questioned and one's good reputation solidly established for the sake of society, but also because, generally speaking, dealing with the supernatural is not something one learns at finishing school; certainly not Oxford or Cambridge. The second, and less common of the two, is to locate those who are understood to exist in the world who might be of some assistance in returning calm to the household. Those brought up in the business over generations of descendants and legacies established as early as the creation of the first ghouls and monsters that followed humanity out the primordial ooze. This acquisition of such individuals whom may return peace to a gentleman's house is slightly more difficult to deal with, but generally becomes necessity when the spectres, spirits, or monsters become too violent and reap havoc on more than just the individuals living within the charge of any gentleman or other, or if the death of the master of the house is a direct result of such an incident or entity, or should their be a collection of young ladies for whom their untarnished reputation is at risk of being ruined, for it is also a truth universally acknowledged that a single woman, once released upon the ton, has but one thing on their minds; marriage.
However little is know upon the matter among the general acquaintance of most gentlemen, and the identities of such persons are nearly indistinguishable from those within a tightly knit society, they do, indeed, exist within an easy distance of any proper settlement and establishment which houses the gentry and the wealthy elite, and can usually be found with the help of a trust worthy street urchin or beggar.
Generally speaking, they are gentlemen of good breading, with large fortunes and estates, houses in London and beyond, travel extensively, and the time on their hands to develop their skills to carry on the family business. And are, without doubt or question, among the most reputable rakes to ever grace the salons and ballrooms of all the best families. On account of this, they are very generous with those in much lower positions than themselves and have many street people within their society to seek out and acquire their irregular business for them, all while keeping up the facade of their wealth to their less knowledgeable neighbours and relations, and avoiding the marriage market at all cost.
"Ignorance is bliss, my dear brother, and you should learn the benefits of a very good system of street fellows to manage your affaires," Mr Dean Winchester said to his brother one Sunday morning as they returned to the family estate after their routine weekly visit to the local church; not because they were connected with the religious order, but rather, as a social acceptable Sunday activity and to keep up appearances; it was necessary. "When one has the means to have others work for them, then why should I trouble myself with the mundane?" He asked as he dropped several silver coins into the outstretched hand of an elderly man who sat at the corner of the lane where the church yard met the road.
"You only have the means because you are the eldest son," Mr Samuel Winchester countered in response to his brothers boisterousness. "And that is generally why I manage most of your everyday affairs for you. And I do know the benefits of your street society because I am the one whom they come to with the business they find for us."
"Younger sons must have occupations," Dean commented in a near whisper but there was sarcasm and teasing in his tone.
"Occupations on top of occupations, it would seem, as I do manage your estate as well as my own, which might I add is doing very well no thanks to you, and I cover all the Lore that you refuse to become familiar with," Samuel added and passed a letter to his brother out of the sight of their neighbours who were also leaving the Sunday morning service to return to their homes and estates oblivious of the work that the Winchesters truly performed. "And that does not include our other, much more legitimate, business affairs or have you forgotten I am a full partner in both the weapons and the shipping businesses."
"I am well aware and it is as it should be. I could not bare being the only highly sought after gentleman in the family of an age to marry. The mamas do fret over you a great deal and it brings me solace and joy!"
"It would," Samuel grumbled.
"Ah, and who gave you this?" Dean asked, ignoring his brother's complaints and once they were alone and climbing into the carriage that would take them back up to Winchester Manor.
"Should you speak so freely?" Samuel asked in a hushed voice. "Your servants are bound to hear you."
"And they will not cross my Butler should they hear anything that seem undesirable or ungentlemanly but you know this already, dear brother, for every member of our household has been vetted by our butler and yourself, and trained in other means by myself."
"Another business I take care of," Samuel protested.
"It does so suit your delicate constitution, brother mine," Dean teased. "Should you decide that it is time, at last, to take a wife, I would be glad to hand over some of these duties or at least to have help in the management of Winchester Manor."
"You do not care to be mistress of Winchester Manor?" Dean teased.
Samuel rolled his eyes and sighed audibly in frustration.
"Taking a wife, though I am sure it is enjoyable for some, is not exactly a priority at this time. I have a reputation to uphold, as you are well aware, and how could I possibly break so many hearts by choosing one? Not to mention the lack of experience I should be looking for in a woman of breading is quite unnerving. My wife will be a paragon, a warrior, and perfectly suited to preside both in ballrooms and dungeons. How tedious that will be, to find such a woman."
"I doubt one such woman exists who is not an old crone or a beast of some such pantheon or paranormal society," Samuel chuckled at his brothers grimace.
"No, at present I enjoy my scoundrel ways and the broken hearts in every village we leave behind us."
"Mother would be so proud," Samuel huffed.
"I think she would be, as the only such paragon who has existed in this world, she would understand," Dean stated passionately.
"I think not. Father, perhaps, but mama would be flattered by your compliment and preferring of your being settled in a love match over anything else," Samuel commented honestly and with a hint of the morose.
"You are not wrong, my brother," Dean spoke sadly as his distracted mind pulled his eyes to the passing countryside.
"You have an obligation to the family and the name to marry the daughter of a gentleman." Samuel carried on. "Regardless of how you feel about your conquests over her is irrelevant and you would do best to remember that when you move in society. I find it so difficult to believe that you have not ruined any number of gentleman's daughters in your long and illustrious career as scoundrel," Samuel spoke in tones simply to remind his brother of his duty as the eldest son.
"I simply do not stay in one place long enough to get caught," Dean responded haughtily.
"That is a boldface lie and you know it," Samuel accused. "You have more morals than that, and you stick, in general, to women of less virtue. You'll never find your paragon that way."
"As do you, brother mine. Do not pretend that you are in fact an innocent. Never have I known a more proficient rake, well with the exception of myself," Dean chuckled at the carriage bounced along. "But I do not wish for a diamond, nor will I bring a sweet, accomplished, young beauty into our world. It is unfair and they should remain naive as long as they can, if not forever."
"I do not deny it, nor do I put on any airs to," Samuel countered. "I also have the benefit of being a second son, and generally find myself to be less the object of the desperate mamas when you are present in society, which is often as we do everything together. Indeed it is my favourite part of the whole charade as it does make you so very uncomfortable."
"You are very wealthy by your own right," Dean grumbled at the turn of the conversation; he was no long enjoying the teasing as it had turned on him. "And you would never turn a lady into this. You would never ruin a highborn woman with these truths we know. Am I wrong in my summation of your character, Samuel?"
"No, you are quite right, however I would hope that there may be love involved when the time does come."
"Love is not a frivolity that we can afford, and you know that," Dean scolded and sighed.
"I do indeed, more than you know," Samuel sighed.
"My apologies, brother, I did not think," Dean said as he looked to his brother at last. "I know all too well the price you have paid to the life, this family, our curse."
"I know you do."
"Then let us return to a polite yet mundane conversation. How do you plan to stop me from acting as a heir and squander our wealth?" Dean questions playfully to change the subject.
"Nothing particularly different. I know how to manage you and how you spend. You are not the problem," Samuel laughed. "But those whom we bring into our society rarely see beyond my very wealthy, very single, heir to the Winchester fortune brother, and I may do as my rakish ways dictate with very little inconvenience to me and my wealth, however they can on occasion be detrimental to yours and so I am always on my guard."
"Do we not have business to deal with?" Dean asked to try and change the subject once more.
"So very much. Where would you like to begin?" Samuel asked brightly knowing that he had won the battle of wills. "We could, perhaps, talk about the guns, or the estate and the farms, and all the lands and houses you own, or perhaps you would like to talk about the new trading vessels we've invested in and the expansion of the Winchester riffles to the new world."
"You would think, would you not, that all that talk of trade and business would overshadow the ancient family name and wealth for a lot of the society matrons," Dean sighed in frustration.
"We are not new money, though we have used the very old family money to delve into the new money. That is why we are not shunned in society. However I would think that your lack of a title would be enough to dissuade some of them but it certainly does not," Samuel offered.
"I would like to deal, more particularly, with the family business, if you don't mind. So please, dear brother, how did you come by this letter?" Dean asked as he handed it back to Samuel.
"The Angel Castiel, did you not see him in church this morning?" Samuel asked.
"Of course not, the building is quite full of angels, why would I?" Dean joked as his brother rolled his eyes. "Besides, I was much more happily occupied by the young Miss Harvelle."
"As you generally are," Samuel said and looked out at the passing woods of his father's estate. "She is not your paragon, you would be wise to remember that."
"And, not surprisingly, Miss Talbot was sour and quite displeased with my attentions toward Joanna, and so I must keep that up," Dean added with a wink to avoid his brothers scolding. "Airs, I must put on airs, dear brother, for the sake of society. It is a hard job to undertake but I will do it."
"Fop," Sam stated under his breath.
"Ninny," Dean countered.
"And so you look like you are prepared to throw away everything that father and mother worked so hard to establish for us, and on ladies you know nothing of," Samuel scolded. "Frivolity, Dean, must you be made so ridiculous? Besides, Lord Harvelle, nay Lady Harvelle, would murder you, run you quite through with any number of weapon they keep in their arsenal."
"It's just for show and you know that. And must I remind you that mama and papa are working still; don't you forget that Samuel," Dean hushed his voice. "But as they both have died, according to our social groups, and all of the ritual performed, they cannot come around here. Lucky for you, they are working to reestablish themselves as completely different people and in a completely different part of the country, continuing the family business as we are, so you will have an inheritance after all. As you know, death for our kind, is not so final as that. I do what I do simply to watch Bella Talbot squirm. It is my one guilty pleasure."
"If that is the case, dear brother, I shall be more wealthy than you for I would take with me all of my already established wealth and then inherit," Samuel countered. "And that is a boldface lie, you have many guilty pleasures. I do not mind this one so very much, in fact, I find it quiet enjoyable myself."
"And then you too will have to marry a gentlewoman of good breeding and family, oh I live for that day!" Dean chortled heartily. "Or perhaps you should set your cap at Bella!"
"I'm well aware of my future prospects, and Bella Talbot will never be one of them," Samuel said with a shrug, "but it is of no consequence at the present because, as you alluded mama and papa are for all intents and purposes dead. I take great pleasure in this knowledge."
"I'm glad, Samuel, but what say you about the letter?" Dean asked as the carriage came to a halt outside the main entrance of the enormous great house and the butler stepped out to greet them. "Mr Singer, I'll take my tea in the trophy room," Dean added in an aside to the butler as he passed him.
"As you please," Mr Singer said harshly and bowed away.
"Come, Samuel, we have plans to make," Dean said as he handed his hat and his great coat to a footman and fled toward his precious trophy room.
"The Angel has returned to the village," Sam said to the butler in passing.
"Not a good sign, Master Samuel," Mr Singer said in a hushed tone as the footman took Samuel's outdoor clothing.
"Never a good sign," Samuel commented and handed the man the letter to read.
"Not another one," Singer said with a shake of his head. "And only two counties over. I'll be sure to sharpen the blades and procure the deadman's blood you'll be needing. Shall I accompany you on this journey?"
"I don't think so, Singer, but Dean may change his mind," Samuel answered and heard his brother call after him.
"Very good, sir," Singer bowed and fled through a pocket door hidden behind a panelled wall.
"So, dear brother, a vampires nest in Yorkshire, what are we to do about it?" Dean asked excitedly as he pulled an ancient sword from a wall of weapons and tested its balance in his hand.
"We will do what is to be done," Samuel said with a sigh as he took up a place in a chair near the fire as two enormous Impalas, taxidermied to perfection, flanked it on either side. "And cover it with the facade of hunting or fishing, or whatever you wish. Perhaps the eldest Mr Winchester is in fact looking for a wife," he added and watched as a shiver rolled down Dean's spine.
"I'll play the part of gentleman for society, but it's not time for that just yet," Dean said and spun on his brother.
"No, you'd prefer to be a scoundrel, we've established that, and you use these poor women very ill," Sam said and stood. "Perhaps I should marry after all, at this rate you'll not continue the legacy, or perhaps you have and don't know it, but either way, we must do something for the good of the family business."
"Do what you wish brother, but steer clear of Miss Harvelle," Dean warned.
"I would take your own advice. Lady Harvelle will have your head if you corrupt her sweet child," Samuel countered. "And Joanna herself would never have you as you are too much the annoying older brother. Besides, Lord Harvelle is looking to set a son-in-law up for the rest of his life and to take on the wealth of the family. You do not need more wealth, nor are you likely to take on any of Lord Harvelle's ways in hunting or dealing with ghosts and vampires. Therefore, you are not at all what the Harvelles are looking for in a son-in-law, and father would disown you. Need I remind you that the feud is still very much alive and well in that camp."
"My God, you are tedious," Dean said with a shake of his head.
"And you are a demonstrous flirt," Samuel countered
Dean smiled mischievously at his brother.
"Then a fool you shall be," Sam said with a sigh as he gave up the fight.
"We leave at dawn, tomorrow, you know what to do to prepare," Dean said as his tea arrived. "And so do you, I assume," He added to Singer.
"I know exactly what to do with you," Singer said in a tone of warning and displeasure.
"Very good," Dean said ignoring the harshness. "I think I'll go for a ride while you make arrangements. Send word to my valet and the stables."
"Send it yourself," Singer huffed and left the trophy room once more
Mr Winchester fled from the company of his brother and his butler almost as soon as he'd gulped down his tea. Summoning his valet before it was even poured out of the china pot, he was dressed and ready for a ride within moments and then swiftly moved out of the house and off to the stable.
His horse, Baby, was saddled and waiting, with a lad nearly into his adulthood holding her tack. She twitched with anticipation for the ride ahead. The horse, black as the night sky and shiningly clean, knew her master was coming before he'd rounded the stable yard. She was off as soon as he'd mounted her.
Down the lane that led away from the house, Dean pushed the great beast to her limits, faster, thundering down the road as the wind whipped at his face. The scenery passed in a blur until finally he came to the iron worked gates of his home and summoned the keeper to release him into the country side. The gates were closed behind him once more, and the man who lived with his family in the gate house moved and disappeared before the master could choose his next direction.
Setting his resolve, Dean turned right; away from the route into the village and headed for the woods but was stopped at the intersection of his property and the main road.
"Sir, why is the Angel returned to the village?" A voice was heard before the figure was seen.
"Mr Crowley, that is none of your business and I'd remind you to stay out of my personal affairs," Dean said from atop his horse.
"When the warriors of heaven descend upon this plane, these things become my affairs as well. He is aware of our agreement, is he not?" Crowley asked as he moved toward the horse and with a grunt and a snort, she warned him to stay away.
"This is not your plane, nor your realm, save for this one intersection, and so you should not trouble yourself with the affairs of the angelic host," Dean warned.
"I am the King of Hell, this realm and that one become my business for diplomatic reasons," Crowley countered haughtily.
"You answer to an Angel in a box, and you are welcome that he was returned to that box," Dean laughed and pushed to leave. "Or is he, I never really know with you and your mother running about."
"We have an agreement, or do you not remember?" Crowley called after him.
"I remember well enough, but may I remind you that our agreement is not a deal. I leave you to your dealings at the intersection of my land and the main road. You move freely through my village and may con the travellers, but not my people, nor my tenants. And in return, you keep my brother and I informed as to the status of our captive friend and his cage, though I do not believe you would ever give us accurate information on that individual. We also check in on your mother from time to time, should we cross paths with her. That is the extent of our agreement, and you are lucky, given the nature of my true employment, to be allowed to speak to me, let alone live."
"One day, Mr Winchester, you will fall from your haughty position and you'll need me," Crowley warned angrily.
"Doubtful," Dean countered, straightened himself in his seat and bowed his head slightly.
Sighing out his anger to calm himself, so as to keep up appearances should he come across anyone on the road, he made eye contact once more with the demon before him. "The particulars regarding the visit of our Angel friend have not yet been made clear to us, however, we have other, more pressing, matters to deal with. Should I find out more, I will relay the message, but as it stands I doubt very much that you will see myself or my brother for the next fortnight at least. Good day, Mr Crowley."
With a slight bow, Mr. Crowley relented and disappeared into thin air.
Grumbling to himself, Dean pressed the horse again and was off into the pastoral landscapes of his home county.
Upon his return to the areas around his home estate, his horse glistening with sweat and panting with the great exertion he'd put her through, Dean passed by the estate grounds of the Harvelle family and caught a glimpse of the lovely Miss Joanna Elizabeth out for a walk amongst the great oak trees and passing by the stream that divided their lands.
"Mr Winchester, brooding as always," she teased as he smiled down at her.
"Good day, my lady," He bowed his head but did not dismount. "My brooding will end because I have passed by an angel," He spoke to flatter her.
"So, you too have seen Mr Castiel in the village?" She questioned.
"I was speaking of you," Dean replied, "but indeed, I have seen him though I did not have the pleasure of conversing with him."
"I know of your relentless flattery," She said batting her eyelashes and then lowered them, "but you must win my father's approval, and my own, and as he is very unforgiving of your behaviour and that of your father; I'd say you have your work cut out for you." She fluttered her eyes once more, while changing the subject. "I too have not spoken to Mr Castiel, so his appearance in the village has me intrigued."
"How is Lord William?" Dean asked to make conversation. "He was not in church this morning, I hope he is not unwell."
"He is unwell, as he has always been, though he grows more so with this cold," Joanna explained. "He's not been right since the last hunt, as you are well aware, but he is thankfully still with us and you would never know of his illness to look at him."
"My deepest sympathies, truly, and please give my good wishes to your family for his recovery," Dean said and bowed his head.
"Come up to the house, if you please, and give them yourself," Miss Harvelle said as she raised a saucy eyebrow to the man on the horse.
"I best not," Dean said and chuckle, "or I may not make it off your land alive. Unfortunately, Samuel and I have business in Yorkshire, he is expecting me back and we will be leaving directly."
"That is a shame," Joanna said and it was clear that something else had come over her.
"Is everything quite all right?" Dean asked and this time he dismounted at her distressed.
"May I speak plainly?" She asked with a huff, remaining conscientious of social propriety.
"I'll not tell a soul," Dean smiled, winking quite lecherously.
"Father has received a letter from Mr Grey, do you know him?" Joanna asked.
"He purchased the old Conley place," Dean said with a nod. "I have done all that is right with regard to my station, to welcome the gentleman to the county, but that is the extent of our acquaintance. I do own a large portion of the land but never thought to acquire the great house. I should think the man would rather not have any further dealing with me unless he would care to purchase back lands that were divided before he arrived."
"It would seem they are having some uncommon issues within the house that they have only just come into. Father is too unwell, mother is beside herself, and propriety forbids me from assisting in anything more than petty hex bags and cleanses, though I am capable and will likely go regardless of their wishes. Unless you and Mr Samuel will take on the task. You are the nearest hunters, next to us and really Mr Grey only confided in my father, he did not ask for help. It was discussed at our luncheon that we should look to you for assistance as I have not yet brought a young man home to my father to train in his ways, there is great likelihood that mother and I will go to London for the season, with the express purpose of finding such a gentleman. Of course, father is too proud to ask you himself, and in earnest, I've been walking along the lane waiting for you in the hopes of relaying this message. I am sure, should you accompany me to the house, my father would be very happy to see you but if you are to leave, we will find another way."
"It's only a vampire nest, I'm sure it can wait," Dean said and motioned up the lane, "shall we?"
"Truly, vampires?" She asked, her voice hushed despite the lack of any soul to hear her, and looked at him with great excitement.
"Should I get you to look at me like that more often by telling you of all the dangers this world has in store?" Dean said teasingly, knowing full well the great joy it brought him to see her thusly animated. "Yes, we are sure it is vampires, which we have dealt with in abundance as of late."
"I'd give my fortune to be a gentleman, for my father's sake," Miss Harvelle cursed under her breath. "And so that I might see these horrors as you do."
"I'm not one to be overly bound by propriety, but I should not wish to see you facing any such evils," Dean said as they walked along together. "Though I know you are perfectly capable and expect you will take on a far greater roll once your husband is chosen and proficient in the business. Choose wisely, Miss Harvelle, for a man of strong will, will force you to stay home, but a man who will dote on you will desire your company always."
"I should think, and being who we are, that I would know how to handle myself. As the only child of a man such as my father, he has trained me as he would a son to carry on the family legacy, but alas, mother would not have it. I am to marry well, bare sons and carry on the family line in that manner," Joanna spoke in a way that was not all together proper for a woman. "But I will take your advice, if I can manage it, and bend a man to my will."
"And my fortune is not tempting enough?" Dean asked with a laugh.
"I do not need your fortune." The lady protested haughtily.
"Indeed you do not," Dean laughed. "And dare I be so bold as to say you have managed your wiles very well. The looks and the demure flirtations you have practiced upon me are quite convincing. You will do very well among the ton for your season in town."
"Currently, father is still displeased with your family, all I am permitted to do with you is flirt," Joanna sighed. "And I believe you would shelter me away because contrary to popular belief you are more of a gentleman than you let on, nor would you ever make any advances toward me for that reason alone."
"And perhaps you are needed with your family for now and the plan isn't all together a terrible one. We need more good men in the business," he added and turned his eyes to the road, rather than the beauty beside him. "I cannot take you from your father, and you know as well as I that I see you too much as a sister."
They made their way slowly down the lane but came upon the great house in due time, to be ushered into a sitting room by the hall boy, and were greeted with lukewarm dignity.
"Lord William, it is good to see you," Dean said, disregarding the judgement and bowing deeply to the man who outranked him socially, if not in kills and skills.
"Mr Winchester, I see that my daughter has found you in high spirits," Lord William said, his voice horse and his looks stern. His demeanour was one of displeasure.
"Indeed, my Lord, there is very little that could bring me down when such beauty is before me," Dean said in his usual way and bowed to the wife. "Lady Harvelle, it is good to find you looking so well."
"Stop with your flattery," the lady stated sternly. "You know why you are here." she added and sat beside her husband.
"Miss Harvelle has given me an account of our new neighbours, yes," Dean said to answer her.
"Then, if you are not busy sir, would you be so kind as to deal with this?" Lord Harvelle asked and handed a letter to the young man before him, without getting up or really meaning anything by it.
"Sounds like a straight forward haunting, it shouldn't be of much trouble," Dean said after reading the letter.
"Though the Winchesters are leaving for Yorkshire tonight to deal with a vampire nest," Joanna added.
"We will push the trip until this is dealt with. It would seem to be more pressing as it is within our community of neighbours," Dean jumping in to be obliging, and to try and win over his adversary.
"And, as I am given to understand, has been for quite some time, as it took the Greys some effort to find us," Lady Harvelle added to press the matter.
"It did not, I told the man when he came here," Lord William protested. "I also told him it wouldn't be me and that I would find someone else suitable; not Joanna. The man has a blood nephew who is sickly and meek, and my daughter has a kind enough heart to get involved."
"I do not, sir!" Joanna countered. "I would be damn professional."
"Well you certainly do not act like a lady," her mother scolded.
"As is generally the way when new neighbours come into a village, we are not prone to revealing our secrets without inquiry first. I assume you trust them enough to help?" Dean asked with a nod, his seriousness for the business at hand was now all encompassing.
"I do, they are good people, just naive," Lord William responded.
"Do we have any notion as to who the spirit might be?" Dean asked to the room.
"I believe I've figure it out," Lord William spoke. "The house was vacant for a long time, it was under construction even longer to welcome the Greys into it. I believe that many an issue had arisen due to the haunting while the house was in renovation and now the spirit is quite vexed at the presence of the new tenants. The first owners were the Minecrofts, I'm sure you've heard of them."
"I remember hearing of them from my father, when I was but a lad," Dean answered. "What happen to the Conleys?"
"I am sorry for your loss," Lord William stated knowing only that the Winchester parents had died, but not that they were amongst the living once again, pursuing a new life elsewhere. "The Conleys were city folk. They hated the country."
"It was a long time ago, Lord William, do not trouble yourself," Dean said with a half-smile that caught Joanna's attention; she knew that he wasn't telling whole truths. "You believe the spirit to be one of the Minecrofts?" He asked to get back on track.
"I do. The late Mrs Minecroft became quite angry and violent when her husband died and the money was bequeathed to a distant cousin. She fought the entail, she fought the move, she even attacked an agent from London. She was killed in a stand-off when she would not vacate the premises to the new owners. They lasted but a fortnight once they moved in and the house has stood vacant since; well with the short stay by the Conleys but I wouldn't count that," Lady Harvelle spoke the tail as if it had happened yesterday.
"And why have we not burned those bones prior to these new neighbours coming?" Dean asked skeptically.
"I believe the village assumed that the new tenants were too London bred to handle the country and that is why they left. Or that was the story they told," Lord William answered. "I had my inklings even then, but the house remained vacant and other problems arose that were more pressing. It was all but forgotten."
"Very well, Samuel and I will deal with these bones tonight and you may write to Mr Grey in the morning. If, while we are gone, things do not settle down send word to my butler and we shall continue the cleansing upon our return. However, I do not suspect it will come to that."
"I agree," William said and for the first time forced himself to his feet.
"Father, stay," Joanna gasped as she rushed to his side.
"No, Joanna, I will shake his hand. He has done us a great service," William said as Dean stepped forward to accept the gesture. "Thank you, Mr Winchester."
"It is my pleasure, Lord William," Dean said. He smiled as he turned to the ladies. "But I best be off, much to do, and Samuel will need time to prepare," he added with a wink, he bowed and was shown out of the ancestral home of the Harvelle family.
Dean rode swiftly back to his own home to relay his news to Samuel, content with the meeting and having actually gained admittance into the Harvelle house. He wasn't all together content with the turn of events with regards to Miss Harvelle but generally it was a good idea to be on speaking terms with others of the same occupation and their lands boarders his own.
His horse did her job beautifully and before long he was riding up to the front of his house where his stable hands were waiting. In short order his brother appeared.
"Where in God's name had you gone off to?" Samuel asked as he rushed out of the house to greet his brother. "Singer is in quite a state, and the preparations for our departure are nearly complete. Despite you having given no direction or time for our departure. Your coachman and cook are in a high dudgeon as you have not told them when you wish to dine or leave or what you wish to take by way of equipage. The gardener is threatening to hand in his notice and take his whole staff with him because you've given no new directions on the orangery but my green houses of toxic species are doing quite well and I may have convinced him to stay if only for myself and mother's roses. And I am displeased that you have no compassion for the people within your employment."
"I was waylaid by Miss Harvelle on my ride and gained admittance into the house. I saw the old man; I am making great progress Samuel. Today has been a very good day," Dean said excitedly as he dismounted and ignoring his brother's complaints. "Also, our departure will have to be delayed. We have other more pressing business to attend to."
"If you are going to tell me that your courting the Miss Harvelle is more pressing than a nest of undesirable vermin, I may have to fight you," Samuel warned.
"And I would win that fight, dear brother! But no, I am not courting Miss Joanna, this arrived from the Greys and the Harvelles were looking for assistance with it." He countered handing over the letter. "I have offered to handle it for them, though they have done most of the work already. It shouldn't take long but we do have to wait till evening and I am famished," Dean spoke quickly as he walked into the house, his brother following hurriedly at his side. "We will leave in the morning, we will take one of the carriages, I assume Singer has pack a whole wagon for business and pleasure and demonstrations of our weaponry. I think we should do well with our mounts as well should we decide that we're are far too tedious with one another in a confined space."
"Of course and the orangery?" Samuel asked distractedly.
"What of it? Has it yielded fruit? Is the heating system not working? Am I to be the envy of the land with a room full of pineapples?" Dean asked sarcastically. "Why we need one is beyond me, but if we must to keep up appearances, then we must. I should care less about it, though are there tropical plants we could be growing that may render antidotes or have you handled all that with your toxic green house?"
"You have oranges and lemons and limes that are nearly ready and peaches, I believe. All is settled and growing well, but what shall he do with the fruit while we are gone? We are covered for toxins and herbs in the greenhouses, we need not mess with the orangery."
"Give the fruits to cook and tell her to do as she pleases, but a peach pie would be delightful if it manageable," Dean said with a shrug. "How is the orchard?"
"Cherries are in season you're getting cherry pie this evening," Samuel replied.
"Beautiful, I am content with that. Perhaps something with the peaches for breakfast before we leave?" Dean looked to his brother who nodded.
"There, is that enough to appease everyone?" Dean asked as looked about his hall and all the people who had gathered there.
"Of course," Singer grumbled and shooed the gathering away.
Reading the letter he was handed, Samuel moved to distance themselves from their less knowledgeable servants. "And have we any idea who this may be?" Samuel asked as he followed his brother into the library.
"Old Mrs Minecroft," Dean answered, pulling a ledger from one of the shelves. "Have we any idea where she is buried?"
"Yes, we do," Samuel answered and pulled a different ledger down. Flipping through the pages rapidly he opened the large book onto the desk and pointed out the plot on a map showing the local cemetery. "There," he said with a tap.
"Well that's absolutely perfect. This should be a quick trip, we'll get it done tonight and head off to Yorkshire in the morning," Dean said and slapped the ledger in his hands shut.
"But what if you're wrong?" Samuel asked. "We've not have any time to investigate these claims."
"Lord Harvelle has done all of the work for us and I trust his judgement. And, should we be mistaken in this, I've left instructions to contact Singer while we are gone."
"Very well," Samual said with determination. "We'll eat and take our rest before heading out tonight. I'll send word to the stable to be ready for us, and pack what we shall require."
"Very good," Dean said and clapped his brother on the back. "I do love keeping busy."
"With all due respect, you like the action of it all," Samuel corrected and accused.
"Too true," Dean laughed and walked out of the library again.
After they'd bathed, dined, and rested, the brothers Winchester mounted their horses, laden with equipment and steered themselves toward the cemetery in question. Making quick work of the dig, by the light of their lamps, they excavated the body of old Mrs Minecroft and set the bones ablaze. Once the fire had subsided, the hole was filled in once more, the job finished. They began to pack up their belongings to return to their beds until morning when all at once they were happened upon by a dark clad figure.
"Well, if it isn't the Misters Winchester. Fancy meeting you here."
The lady to appear, from beneath a dark cloak, was well known to the gentlemen and though her reputation among their neighbours was that of a gentlemanly, well bread, sort of creature, of good nature and character, the mere sound of her voice caused discomfort and dismay to the gentlemen.
"Bella," Dean said, his voice a sigh of annoyance and disinterest. "To what do we owe this displeasure?" He asked haughtily as his brother held up a lantern to her face and snickered at the comment.
"Miss Talbot to you," she corrected. "Have you forgotten your manners or do they disappear in darkness?"
"Oh, because one must keep up appearances here? In this sacrosanct place, during this ungodly hour? " Dean asked mockingly. "Who else moves about in shadows? If you were concerned for propriety you should have remained at home."
"I should say so, yes, it is very important to keep up appearances," She replied with a bat of her eyes that made Dean flinch.
He'd known for a long time that she was after his inheritance, and no more, but he'd vowed she'd never see a penny of it.
"For why should two of the most eligible gentlemen, of good repute and standing, be out here in, as you say, such an ungodly place, after sundown? What could you be doing in such a place at such an hour? Heaven forbid that your neighbours should find out," she gasped dramatically and held up her lamp and fanned her face for effect.
She'd come to know Dean's displeasure with her very quickly and had all but given up on the prospect to make him her husband, but rather, decided that she would reveal all his secrets and ruin him instead, out of spite for being snubbed as she was.
"Well, I suppose they would be shocked," Samuel said in reply to her ill-conceived threat. "Certain ladies may lose their countenance for a time, but seeing as we are quite the richest gentlemen in this part of the country our transgressions will be forgiven and forgotten. For money is so much more important these days than the actions of noble young men and we already have the reputations of rakes so what does it matter?"
"Well said, Samuel," his brother said with a decisive nod. "But a lady out after dark and unaccompanied by a chaperone, what shall they say to that?" He asked threateningly. "Ruin, utter ruin, isn't it?"
"Oh indeed, that is not proper behaviour for a lady at all," Samuel followed his brothers prompting as haughtily as he could muster. "A secret lover perhaps? The loss of her reputation by acts of an unspeakable nature? She has been sneaking about and partaking in terribly improper acts, I should assume. She shall never recover from the shame."
"No husband would have her then," Dean added. "Not an honourable one at least."
"No indeed," his brother agreed.
"Thankfully I have my own money," Bella scoffed.
"But not an overly excessive amount, as I do," Dean spoke to tease.
"And no lineage to speak of. A bad reputation and you will be shunned. Chased from the village to be sure," Samuel warned.
"Just because I am the gentler of our sex," Bella said and sighed.
"It is terribly unfair," Dean shook his head and stifled a laugh.
"What are you doing out here?" She asked suspiciously trying to change the direction of the conversation back into her favour. "I know that the Winchesters have always been up to something. I will prove what my father before me had suspicions of."
"I'm looking to acquire some new land for the estate. What did you think we were up to?" Samuel asked to keep the conversation traveling in a way to benefit himself and his brother.
"Pity then, that there should be a cemetery upon this land. Completely unfit for farming, now isn't it?" She countered.
"Miss Talbot is right, brother. I must advise you against such a purchase as this if you are indeed trying to build your own estate," Dean said and laughed. "I'll buy it though, I like a good cemetery!"
"You should not be permitted to be an eldest son," Bella commented angrily with a roll of her pretty eyes and a sigh of distain. "You'll lose your wealth for sure and then what woman would ever take you?"
"But I am an elder, and therefore, I can do whatever I please," Dean said jovially. "And as you are daily proof, women fawn over me. I can't say that I have ever been taken by a woman, though I may have taken a few."
"You are abhorrent!" Miss Talbot cried.
"And your estate is self-sustaining and pays you a small fortune monthly, you'll be fine in your frivolity, then again, what would a woman know of such business," Samuel said and his words cut her deeply.
"To be a scoundrel and a wretch, that is your lot in life Dean Winchester," she accused. "And you, Mr Samuel, are far too clever for your own good. You shall always be left to follow in your brother's shadow. I make my own way in this world."
"That's Mr Winchester to you, or have you now forgotten your manners?" Dean asked to rub her own words in her face.
"To do as you please and to have the money to cancel out your indiscretions, why should you be so lucky? It is not right," She said angrily. "Nor is it fair."
"And yet it is the way," Dean said and shooed her away. "Now off with you before someone happens upon you who might spread idle gossip for entertainment sake, heedless of their neighbours expense."
"So, you mean you, brother?" Samuel accused but there was nothing more than a little teasing in his tone.
"Exactly," Dean winked.
Bella quieted her displeasure, but bound by propriety, curtsied and turned away. Turning back, she immediately retorted. "One day you will get caught in whatever it is you do and the whole of the village will know that you are not as gentlemanly and as fine as you have been made to be. And on that day, I will laugh."
"What makes you think anyone will care?" Samuel asked with a shake of his head. "Most of them already know, it is a bit of a shock that you do not. It is for the greater good of our community. If they all knew, they would be even more proud to have us among them; those who don't already know."
"I despise that you are in such a position," She cried angrily and fled down the derelict road into the deep woods.
"But it is the way of the world," Samuel called when she was gone and his brother retrieved the shovel when she did not reply again.
"And yet here we are labouring," Dean said.
"Now there is the true scandal of this situate," Samuel retorted. "Heaven forbid that you should be seen labouring without your man servant to do all the work for you. Or should the ladies of the village see you as anything more than a dandy." He laughed. "Oh wait, they already know you will bend over backwards for your tenants and have had a hand in most of the upgrades and new construction in the wider community. They have seen you with your shirt sleeved rolled up and you boots covered in filth."
"If I am a dandy then you are a fop, brother," Dean countered with a laugh. "For you are nearly always by my side in such adventures."
"All for show, brother dear. Our social lives are all for show," Samuel added and picked up the shovel that he'd discarded moments earlier as well.
"Yes, we must keep up appearances, after all," his brother agreed and sunk the blade of the instrument deep into the ground. "But first you best help me. We must put this grave back to its proper rest and leave it so as no one becomes the wiser of our actions. Even though the village knows, this particular bit may be the scandalous behaviour that gets us caught."