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Richenda, ‘but it’s the same thing. Everything has been thrown on the fire. It’s banked dangerously high.’
    I handed her the poker, took a deep breath and ran across the room. The heat from the fireplace was incredible and smoke swirled through the room like thick, dirty fog. It caught at the back of my throat making me cough.
    ‘Euphemia!’ I heard Richenda call frantically. I didn’t stop until reached the drawing-room windows. I could no longer see, but long acquaintance with throwing open these windows allowed my fingers to quickly find the latches and free them. Smoke boiled out of the room, and cool, fresh air flooded in. I turned to look at the fire. The pile of greenery blazed and spat as the fire ate through the sap in the branches. I pulled a heavy fire guard in front of the hearth. ‘We have to find whoever is doing this and stop them,’ I said.
    ‘Where could they be?’
    ‘Dining room, library, or breakfast room on this floor,’ I answered. ‘Sam didn’t put very much upstairs or in the servants quarters.’
    ‘Library,’ said Richenda.
    ‘You think it’s Bertram, don’t you?’
    ‘I think he’s possessed,’ said Richenda.
    I wanted to laugh or at least argue, but the smoke had made my throat sore. I didn’t know what was going on, but I knew we had to stop it. Richenda set off again with her trusty candlestick. I followed. This time we ran down the corridor and flung open the library door without hesitation. The sight that met our eyes made us both freeze.
    Bertram stormed around the room ripping down bough after bough. An open bottle of brandy stood on the table. There was little left in it. ‘Damn her! Damn her!’ He cried. ‘It’s Christmas! Christmas! She has ruined it all.’
    Then he turned and saw us. An expression of fury, the like of which I have never seen before and hope never to see again, contorted his features. ‘So you’ve come back, have you?’ he snarled at me. ‘Did he decide he didn’t want you after all? Or did you get the timings wrong? No one at the inn?’
    ‘Bertram, please!’ said Richenda, ‘Calm down.’
    Bertram threw his brandy glass away from him. It smashed into a myriad of pieces. He strode over to me and took me by the shoulders. ‘You said you would be my wife. Then he comes and suddenly you must not only break our engagement, but you fled the house leaving me ashamed and embarrassed in front of my guests. Do you care for me so little you would bring me so low?’
    ‘Bertram.’ I said. ‘You’re not awake. You’re dreaming. This isn’t you.’
    He shook me hard by the shoulders. My teeth rattled in my head. His grip on my flesh was painfully strong.
    ‘Stop it! Stop it!’ yelled Richenda, ‘Or brother or not, I will bring this candlestick down hard on your head.’
    Bertram didn’t seem to hear her. I looked into his eyes. It was not Bertram that looked back at me. This was no waking dream. Richenda had been right.
    ‘I am back,’ I said. ‘I have not left you.’
    ‘But you did!’ he cried, turning and throwing me into the sofa. ‘I am your second choice. It is too much to bear.’
    Remnants of the story I’d been told came back to me. ‘No. I told him to go away. I went to ensure he stayed away. That is all. I have come back to you.’
    The spirit that inhabited Bertram’s body hesitated. ‘But we argued. You told me that you never wanted to see me again.’
    ‘I was upset,’ I said desperately. ‘The fight between you and him. It frightened me.’
    ‘Ha!’ said Bertram’s voice. ‘You are no more than my mother said. I saw your face. You enjoyed seeing us fight over you.’
    ‘No!’ I said. ‘No!’
    Richenda launched herself to attack and struck a mighty blow on the back of Bertram’s head. She is a big woman and under normal circumstances I think she would have felled an ox with such a blow, but Bertram merely turned and swatted her away as if she was no more than a fly. Richenda flew across the room and