The Strange Visitation at Wolffe Hall by Catherine Coulter Page B

And so Grayson gave him a sliver and nodded once again to Miranda.
    Haddock appeared in the doorway with a saucer of milk for Musgrave Jr. “Sir, for the feline after he’s finished the walnut cake.”
    “Thank you, Haddock,” Grayson said and set the saucer on the rug. “Now, Miranda, tell me.”
    She drew in a deep breath, pictured her grandpapa-in-law clearly. “I think he was looking at something I couldn’t see. His lips were moving, but I couldn’t make out what he was saying. Then it was there—the black funnel. It was coming through the closed windows—how I don’t know—and the curtains billowed, and the funnel whooshed right at him and stopped. Then it started whirling around him, then it went into him, through him, like Mama-in-law said it had a month ago, and I heard him say over and over, loud, nearly shouting, ‘ I have it, you cursed spirit. I have it and surely you know I have it. What else do you want from me? Do you want me to tell you again that I’m sorry? You know that if I could change what happened, I would! What else do you want? I promised you I would send it to your family—leave! Go away! I’ve done what you asked! Leave my family alone.’
    “And then the black funnel backed up a bit and hovered right in front of him. I couldn’t move, I was too scared, disbelieving, really, and then it was as if it saw me standing there frozen, and in the next instant it seemed to leap toward me. The Great yelled, ‘No! Leave her alone!’ I dropped my candle and ran as fast as I could. I heard the Great shouting after me, but I kept running. I grabbed P.C., and we ran to the barn. Barnaby helped us saddle horses, and we came here. There wasn’t another horse for Barnaby, so he ran here. With Musgrave Jr.”
    Miranda’s hands were shaking. She quickly took a drink of tea and closed her eyes a moment. She brought P.C. closer to her side. Grayson watched her calm herself again. He admired her a great deal in that moment. She had guts.
    She looked over at him. “That’s all of it, Mr. Sherbrooke—Grayson. What are we going to do?”
    Grayson rose. “Obviously the Great was sorry. He would change what happened if he could. Do you know what he means, Miranda?”
    She shook her head.
    Grayson stood. “I’m going to dress now, then ride over to Wolffe Hall. This time the Great will not escape me. You will all remain here.”
    P.C. jumped to her feet. “But Mr. Straithmore, the funnel might attack you!”
    “No,” Grayson said slowly. “You see, it has no reason to attack me. I can’t help it get what it wants.”
    “But we can’t either,” Miranda said.
    Mrs. Elvan said in her comfortable voice from the doorway, “Yes, Master Grayson, you should go back to Wolffe Hall and take care of things once and for all.” She set a new pot of tea on the table, then leaned over to pat Miranda’s shoulder. “Do not worry yourself, Mrs. Wolffe. The master will make everything right. Young Master Pip, you will stay here with me, as will all the rest of you.” She saw Pip open his mouth, and being a very smart woman with six children and eight grandchildren, she said quickly, “I will read you the master’s new manuscript.”
    But Grayson knew this offered treat wouldn’t do the trick. He saw his son was marshaling his arguments, so he said quickly, “I really need you to remain here and take care of Mrs. Wolffe, P.C., and Barnaby. You’re now the master of the house, all right?”
    He believed he’d been inspired with that reasoning, but Pip said quickly, “But, Papa, what if Bickle tries to sneak in and take me?”
    “We’ll all protect you, Pip,” Mary Beth said, rushing over to him to hug him. “We can all sleep together if you would feel safer.”
    Pip reconsidered, stood straight. “Papa said I was to be the master of the house. I will protect all of you. If Bickle comes, I’ll kick him in the shins.”
    “Thank you, Pip,” Grayson said.
    Miranda rose, frowned, and shoved her