grinned. "I'd wager it's just one of Colin's practical jokes."
Kendra took another step back. "Real blood a joke?"
Ford put a hand on his sister's shoulder. "Perhaps Benchley butchered something outside and failed to notice it dripping when he brought it through here. Look, the drops trail under the door to the great hall, toward the kitchen. I wonder what it is? I'm hoping for suckling pig."
The great hall's door was ajar as well. Jason led the way into the gutted, roofless chamber, its pitted stone floor still scattered with rusted cannonballs from Cromwell's last siege.
"How couldn't he have noticed it dripping?" Kendra's voice was a whisper, her gaze riveted to the bloody trail. "It was pumping out here, from the looks of it." She followed her brothers, stepping carefully. "A suckling pig!" she exclaimed, her voice rising. "More like a cow, I'll warrant you. I've never seen so much—"
"The latch…" At the far end of the hall, Jason had reached for the door, then jerked back his hand. "It's covered in blood as well."
Kendra bit her lip. "Maybe we ought to wait for Colin."
"Don't be a goose." Jason kicked at the door with one booted foot, and it gave, swinging open with a prolonged creak.
They traversed the short corridor, following meandering bloody footprints. "I don't like this," Kendra muttered, gingerly picking her way past the dark red marks.
They paused at the entrance to the kitchen. "Benchley?" Ford ran a shaky hand through his wavy brown hair. "Benchley, are you here, man?"
"It appears not," Jason said unnecessarily.
Kendra pointed to one of the two sunken wells. "Oh, my God."
Ford glared at her. "What now?"
"Do you not hear the dripping?"
"Dripping?" Jason started toward the well, then suddenly flung out an arm. "Stay back!"
"What?" Kendra breathed. "What is it?"
"This is no joke. Ford, fetch Colin now !"
Despite Jason's warning, Kendra rushed forward, then let out an earsplitting scream before whirling to muffle her face against his chest.
"He's dead, he's dead, he's dead," she panted. "Benchley's dead. Oh, my God, Benchley's dead!"
Instead of fetching Colin, Ford threw his arms around them both, his breathing labored though he'd failed to utter a sound.
Squished between her brothers, Kendra turned her head and cracked an eye open, just to make sure. Bent at the waist over the crossbar that spanned the well, Colin's manservant dangled, his clothes streaked with red. More blood dripped from the sopping mass of his prematurely gray hair, echoing as it plopped into the water far below.
At the grisly sight she let out a whimper and promptly reburied her face.
Until, with an unnerving suddenness, mad laughter burst out behind them.
CHAPTER FOUR
COLIN'S SIBLINGS STARED, dumbstruck, as he strode in and leaned over the well.
A plaintive voice resonated from the depths. "My back is killing me. Help me out of here, I beg you."
Kendra blinked. The color rushed back to her cheeks. "You lout! That was mean."
"But a good one," Ford admitted with a sheepish chuckle. "You did yourself proud, Colin."
"A devil of a mess, but worth it," Colin agreed cheerfully. He reached down to hoist Benchley up. "If you could only have seen your faces."
The manservant's shirt was plastered to his short, wiry form. "I'll be going to clean off now," he said with the greatest of dignity. Back ramrod straight, he thrust his beakish nose into the air and strutted from the room.
"Hurry back!" Jason called. "We're fair starving!"
The siblings waited until Benchley was out of earshot before bursting into peals of laughter.
Jason leaned both hands against the large, scrubbed wooden worktable, his long black hair falling forward to hide his face. "I cannot credit that I fell for it," he mused. "I even said at first…" He looked up at Colin. "By God, but your betrothed will be sorry she missed this one."
"Bosh!" Kendra waved a hand. "She would say it was a childish waste of time."
Ford sniffed at a covered platter.
Kendra took another step back. "Real blood a joke?"
Ford put a hand on his sister's shoulder. "Perhaps Benchley butchered something outside and failed to notice it dripping when he brought it through here. Look, the drops trail under the door to the great hall, toward the kitchen. I wonder what it is? I'm hoping for suckling pig."
The great hall's door was ajar as well. Jason led the way into the gutted, roofless chamber, its pitted stone floor still scattered with rusted cannonballs from Cromwell's last siege.
"How couldn't he have noticed it dripping?" Kendra's voice was a whisper, her gaze riveted to the bloody trail. "It was pumping out here, from the looks of it." She followed her brothers, stepping carefully. "A suckling pig!" she exclaimed, her voice rising. "More like a cow, I'll warrant you. I've never seen so much—"
"The latch…" At the far end of the hall, Jason had reached for the door, then jerked back his hand. "It's covered in blood as well."
Kendra bit her lip. "Maybe we ought to wait for Colin."
"Don't be a goose." Jason kicked at the door with one booted foot, and it gave, swinging open with a prolonged creak.
They traversed the short corridor, following meandering bloody footprints. "I don't like this," Kendra muttered, gingerly picking her way past the dark red marks.
They paused at the entrance to the kitchen. "Benchley?" Ford ran a shaky hand through his wavy brown hair. "Benchley, are you here, man?"
"It appears not," Jason said unnecessarily.
Kendra pointed to one of the two sunken wells. "Oh, my God."
Ford glared at her. "What now?"
"Do you not hear the dripping?"
"Dripping?" Jason started toward the well, then suddenly flung out an arm. "Stay back!"
"What?" Kendra breathed. "What is it?"
"This is no joke. Ford, fetch Colin now !"
Despite Jason's warning, Kendra rushed forward, then let out an earsplitting scream before whirling to muffle her face against his chest.
"He's dead, he's dead, he's dead," she panted. "Benchley's dead. Oh, my God, Benchley's dead!"
Instead of fetching Colin, Ford threw his arms around them both, his breathing labored though he'd failed to utter a sound.
Squished between her brothers, Kendra turned her head and cracked an eye open, just to make sure. Bent at the waist over the crossbar that spanned the well, Colin's manservant dangled, his clothes streaked with red. More blood dripped from the sopping mass of his prematurely gray hair, echoing as it plopped into the water far below.
At the grisly sight she let out a whimper and promptly reburied her face.
Until, with an unnerving suddenness, mad laughter burst out behind them.
CHAPTER FOUR
COLIN'S SIBLINGS STARED, dumbstruck, as he strode in and leaned over the well.
A plaintive voice resonated from the depths. "My back is killing me. Help me out of here, I beg you."
Kendra blinked. The color rushed back to her cheeks. "You lout! That was mean."
"But a good one," Ford admitted with a sheepish chuckle. "You did yourself proud, Colin."
"A devil of a mess, but worth it," Colin agreed cheerfully. He reached down to hoist Benchley up. "If you could only have seen your faces."
The manservant's shirt was plastered to his short, wiry form. "I'll be going to clean off now," he said with the greatest of dignity. Back ramrod straight, he thrust his beakish nose into the air and strutted from the room.
"Hurry back!" Jason called. "We're fair starving!"
The siblings waited until Benchley was out of earshot before bursting into peals of laughter.
Jason leaned both hands against the large, scrubbed wooden worktable, his long black hair falling forward to hide his face. "I cannot credit that I fell for it," he mused. "I even said at first…" He looked up at Colin. "By God, but your betrothed will be sorry she missed this one."
"Bosh!" Kendra waved a hand. "She would say it was a childish waste of time."
Ford sniffed at a covered platter.
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