Felicia's Spirits

by Marie Higgins

  The statement hit Sebastian, and all he could do was laugh. “Forgive me, but I couldn’t possibly have taken any of Durant’s paintings last night. I spent the evening with a lovely woman.”

  The two officers exchanged glances before they looked back at Sebastian.

  “Can anyone verify your story?” the first man asked.

  “Of course. The woman I was with.”

  “Please, Sir,” the second man said. “We’ll need to speak with her, as well.”

  The moment had changed in a split second from ridiculous to extremely awkward. “Well, you see, Officer, that isn’t possible. The lady and I were alone, right here in my house. And to save her reputation, I should not divulge her identity.”

  “That is very unfortunate, Mr. Harrington, because now I will need to search your house.”

  Sebastian shrugged. “Suit yourself. You won’t find anything since I was preoccupied.”

  Irritation gushed through him like a broken dam. He fisted his hands as he marched to the front door, unlocked the door, and opened it. He motioned his arm for them to enter.

  Insipid fools! They weren’t going to find anything. Didn’t they know he was working on this case, too? Of course, Sebastian wanted to find evidence to arrest the forger. Why would he want to steal the other man’s paintings anyway? He wasn’t even an art collector. If it wasn’t for Felicia, he wouldn’t know the first thing about art...

  His mind halted once again and turned in a different direction and flashed with scenes. Felicia talking to him about the paintings as she gave him that quick tour... Felicia having red dirt on her shoes, as well as her dress, shawl, and gloves... Felicia quickly changing the subject when she asked why she was at his house. At first, she’d appeared to be nervous about something, but soon she fell willingly into his arms while they kissed passionately.

  And Felicia telling him she was tired of keeping secrets.

  I’m being set up! Urgency rushed through him, forcing him to practically run into the house and find the other officers. He found them in his study, just as they’d pulled out a painting behind the drapes. Sebastian’s heart dropped to the floor and shattered. The woman he’d fallen in love with had set him up. Would he be able to talk himself out of this mistake? And would he be able to convince his ripped heart that not all women were deceivers.

  PRESENT DAY

  Capri, Italy

  “And the rest of the story – so they say – is history.” Sebastian folded his arms across his chest, lifting his arrogant chin.

  Felicia’s heart twisted painfully. She knew she’d hurt him, but she had no other choice at the time. She walked to the table where her maid had just brought in the tea. As Felicia’s mind spun with the heartache of yesteryear, she poured her and Sebastian a cup of tea.

  She handed him the cup. “Tell me truthfully,” she said with a catch in her throat that she couldn’t quite get rid of, “did you really love me at that time?”

  Keeping his harsh stare on her, he sipped his tea. Once finished and he’d set his cup on the side counter, he nodded. “I believe I had started to toy with the idea of loving you. Thankfully, though, you brought me out of my stupor really fast.”

  She nodded and sipped her tea. She walked back to the sofa and sat before placing her tea on the coffee table in front of her. “I was very relieved that the police hadn’t arrested you.”

  “Indeed. I’m very fortunate to have friends at the police station who could verify that I was working on Durant’s case. And... that I didn’t know a thing about paintings, so why would I want to steal one.” He took another sip of his tea. “I was actually able to talk my way through convincing them that I’d been set up by such a charming, evil woman.”

  Felicia gritted her teeth. Why did he always try to make her feel that she was the bad person in all of this? She wasn’t at all. Perhaps now she should tell him the truth. Whether it made a difference in Bash’s heart, it would bring relief to her.

  “Monsieur Durant worked for Mortimer,” she began, placing her teacup back on the table. “He was a spy for France.” Hesitantly, she lifted her gaze and met Sebastian’s wide eyes. “And as I’d mentioned yesterday, I worked for Mortimer, too, as one of his agents. My assignment when I was in Devonshire, was to find a mole in the Foreign Office. You were one of my suspects.”

  Sebastian choked on his tea, but then cleared his throat several times. “Why would you suspect me? I had nothing to do with the Foreign Office.”

  She shrugged. “Your name was on the list that Mortimer had given me.”

  Bash’s gaze narrowed on her. “Go on.”

  “That is why you found me bird watching that first day. I’d actually been watching you. I was waiting for some kind of hand-off, but I didn’t know when it would happen.”

  He shook his head. “There was no hand-off.”

  “Actually, there was.” She linked her fingers and placed them on her laps. “After you had left me at the tree, I saw you hand off the newspaper to a young man.” His expression drew a blank, so she continued. “Come on, Bash. You have the perfect memory, so you cannot tell me that was something that had slipped your mind.”

  He chuckled as he walked to the sofa and sat beside her. “Yes, I do recall what happened. That morning I was waiting for the young man to bring me information about the artist who was forging famous paintings.”

  “All that I witnessed was you giving him the newspaper.”

  “Correct. However, you didn’t see him return it to the same bench an hour later with writing inside the paper, now did you?”

  She frowned and shook her head.

  “Exactly! Inside, the boy had written down the artist’s address and where I could find some of his paintings.”

  “That is why you were at the museum that day,” she said, adding the pieces together.

  “Correct, again.”

  “Anyway, Mortimer had put me on your case which is why I followed you, and why we had so many accidental meetings.”

  Chuckling, he leaned back in the sofa and folded his arms over his middle. “I knew we didn’t purely meet by coincidence.”

  “When you caught me at your house that night,” she paused as her heartbeat accelerated while the memories flooded her head, bringing back the tingling sensations she’d experienced while kissing him, “I had just planted a painting in your study.”

  “Yes, I know.”

  “Mortimer instructed me to do it.”

  Sebastian scowled and sat up. “Why?”

  “Because he said you were getting too close to uncovering the truth – that Durant was a spy for France. Mortimer wanted me to throw you off the trail, and throw the police off, as well.”

  “By planting the painting in my house, you made the police think I was the forger all along.”

  She shrugged. “I didn’t know what else to do.”

  “I applaud your tactics, because it kept the police so busy we lost track of both you and Durant. It was as if you both had never existed.”

  “Yes, that was the plan.”

  Sebastian shifted himself on the sofa, draping his arm over the back. Felicia’s mind jumped back to that night. He was sitting in this very position before he’d taken her in his arms and devoured her with his passion.

  He stared at her for the longest time, and she grew anxious for him to say something – anything. She suspected he didn’t believe her, but that was his problem, not hers.

  “Did you ever find the mole in the Foreign Office?”

  She nodded. “Yes. There were three men on our list. He was one of the other men. He cleaned their main office every night.”

  “Interesting.” Sebastian tapped his finger on his chin. “I also find it interesting how I would get on that list in the first place, when I had no friends or acquaintances involved with foreign matters.”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know. I was just given a list and told to spy and get to know them. Usually, my hunch is correct.”

  “Y
es, I’m sure it is.”

  Felicia didn’t like the sarcasm to his voice just now. “I suppose apologizing for what happened four years ago isn’t necessary since you won’t believe me, anyway.”

  “You’re quite right, my dear Felicia, but I applaud you for at least trying.”

  Huffing, she stood and took her tea cup back to the tray. He was impossible to reason with. Why did she even try?

  Sebastian finished drinking his tea before returning it to the service tray. “If this Mortimer truly is a real person and not a figment of your imagination, I can conclude that he is a very controlling person.”

  She arched an eyebrow. “What makes you say that?”

  “Because of the way he dealt with the French artist, and with you. My deductions also allow me to conclude that he covers his mistakes well.”

  “Mistakes?”

  He nodded. “Indeed. I shouldn’t have been on that list in the first place, and that tells me he has something else against me. Something vindictive, perhaps.”

  “Do you believe you have met him before?”

  “I might have, either that or I have foiled one of his plots, and he doesn’t like me because of that.”

  Sebastian wandered to the window. He moved the lace curtains aside and peered out into the yard. Felicia took this second to admire his profile. Although she shouldn’t, she couldn’t help but compare him to the man she’d met four years ago. His body appeared more muscular and dare she admit, he was also better looking now? However, he was cockier than before, and she didn’t like that one bit.

  “What are you thinking now?” she asked, moving closer to him.

  “I’m wondering if Mortimer is the person who took your mother.”

  “But I’ve told you already, she doesn’t work for him.”

  “I’ve never worked for him either, but I was still dragged into his life. If Mortimer likes to cover his mistakes, it makes me wonder if your mother had done something to upset him.”

  As she tried to analyze the situation through Sebastian’s eyes, her heartbeat hammered in a different rhythm. Anger grew inside of her, and she wanted answers, now!

  At times while working for Mortimer, there were cases that made her frightened of him. She’d even experienced his temper firsthand, and she’d realized then that she never wanted to make him angry. Some of the agents had somehow met with death, which had never been fully explained to her. Was it possible that Mortimer was the evil mind behind her mother’s disappearance after all?

  “I think,” she said slowly, “that your deduction might actually make sense.”

  “Why?” He moved his gaze from the window and looked at her.

  “There were a few times during my career working for him, I noticed how impatient he was when he didn’t get his way, so I always knew not to upset him. That was why I accepted the assignments given to me. I was paid, and he left me alone – until the next assignment, anyway.”

  “Had you met any of the other agents?”

  “Yes, a time or two.”

  “Did they seem to be frightened of him?”

  She nodded. “I think so.”

  “Then, indeed, we should look into Mortimer’s life a little deeper. Do you know where he is?”

  She shrugged. “The last I had any dealings with him, he was in England.”

  “Does he use any alias names? If so, I’ll need a list of them. I will become friends with the police in this town, and I’ll ask questions. If Mortimer is here, using a different name, I’m sure the police will know.”

  “Maybe, but I also know that he has others doing his work, so he stays in the background. I doubt he’d make himself known, even to the police.”

  Sebastian leaned back against the window and tapped a finger on his chin. “This will definitely make things more complicated.”

  “I’m certain they will, but can we still find him?” she wondered.

  He shrugged. “That, my dear, is a good question. You know his ways better than I, so what you’ll need to do is move about through town and socialize. If you see something that he might be doing, let me know.”

  “I can do that.”

  His gaze narrowed on her for a few moments, before a grin stretched across his face and he pulled away from the window. “Of course, you can. My dear Lady Alder, you still have a charm that can seduce a snake, and a bite that’s just as venomous.”

  She clenched her hands as his words stung. She wouldn’t get emotional. The only way she’d be able to change his mind about her would be to show him how much she’d changed. No longer was she the agent who worked for Mortimer and lied to everyone. She was a normal woman now, who had normal emotions. And it hurt more than she was prepared for when Bash walked all over them.

  EIGHT

  The sun was high in the cloudless sky, making it perfect weather to be outdoors. Felicia took advantage of the afternoon, and strolled through town. Of course, Bash suggested that she watch for any signs that Mortimer might be in town. She’d worked for the man long enough to see the signs – single ladies out in public by themselves, running his errands, and hiding their identity.

  The township was built on an island, which made climbing hills a necessity, since the streets wound from one level to the next. Sometimes, she’d wished she was still in England where the flat lands were easier to walk. But then overlooking the beautiful, blue sea was a sight to behold. She felt like doing nothing all day but stare at the sea.

  The closer to town she came, the more congested the crowds became, and the buildings lined very close to the other. Something was always happening in Capri.

  It was difficult to do as Bash had asked, mainly because her mother’s safety was foremost in her mind. He had suggested her mother had been kidnapped, but if that was true, why hadn’t Felicia heard from the kidnapper, yet?

  “What a lovely day it is.”

  A voice beside Felicia pulled her out of her thoughts. She looked to the right of her and her gaze locked with Miss Abigail Sutton – one of Felicia’s spirits. The young woman was probably around her age, perhaps slightly younger. A strikingly handsome woman, her hair was dark brown, and her eyes were blue, resembling Felicia’s mother quite a bit. She had always wondered if it was her mother’s older sister who had died when she was in her nineteenth year. And yet, why she’d use a different name than what her mother had mentioned whenever she talked about her older sister, Felicia didn’t know.

  “Yes, it is,” she answered softly, afraid that others would hear her talking to herself. Ever since she’d first started seeing spirits, this had been her biggest worry – that people would overhear and judge her. So far, she’d been able to explain herself out of any situation.

  She stared straight ahead, trying to act like she was strolling the streets by herself instead of carrying on a conversation with a ghost.

  “I fear,” Miss Abigail continued, “that you are not thinking straight, and I’d like to help you if I can.”

  “And how is that?” Felicia muttered.

  “You are relying too much on other people.”

  Felicia rolled her eyes. “But Mr. Harrington can help me.”

  “Have more faith in yourself, Felicia.”

  Shaking her head, Felicia kept her gaze jumping from one person to the other, hoping nobody would question why she was talking to nobody. “It’s a little difficult right now.” She quickly smiled and nodded at an older woman who walked by. The old lady returned the polite gesture.

  “That’s why I want to help you.”

  Felicia held in a laugh. When she was younger, Miss Abigail had been a good friend to her. They’d talked so much. Of course, at the time, Felicia thought the woman was real. “I really don’t see how.”

  “Listen to my words.” Miss Abigail leaned closer. “You are too trusting. Please remember that when you deal with future situations. Remember to trust your heart. It will never lie.”

  Felicia lifted a hand and forced a cough behind it. “You’re not ma
king sense,” she quickly added before lowering her hand.

  “But what I say will make sense, I promise. Just remember not to trust so easily.”

  She nodded, keeping her gaze in front of her. “I’ll remember your words.”

  Felicia kept walking, and when Miss Abigail didn’t say anything, she glanced to her right. The woman was gone. Sighing with relief, she relaxed and continued to study the people around her, especially those in town who had a purpose.

  As a child, she’d encountered her spirits at an early age. Of course, she thought they were just part of her family who only came on rare occasions. One day, her mother had asked her who she was talking to, and when Felicia told her, her mother was shocked. She told Felicia not to talk to them anymore. Growing older, though, she came to rely on them. For some reason, they always kept her out of trouble, because they warned her about forthcoming danger. But Felicia made certain that her mother never knew she still communicated with them. The look of pity on her mother’s face when she’d confronted Felicia was something she never wanted to see again.

  Maybe she really was insane. And yet, she did everything else normally.

  Taking a cleansing breath, Felicia focused on the reason she come into town. To find Mortimer... or clues that he was here.

  She shook her head. Why would he be here? She’d always known him to work in England. Although, he had been in France, hence the reason she knew about the French artist, Durant.

  Felicia had started working for Mortimer as a young woman. He’d told her how impressed he was with her skills. She’d seen her mother in action enough times that Felicia caught on remarkably well. Her first few assignments had been to stand on a street corner by a vendor cart, pretending to be with the man selling his wares. Her purpose was to watch for a certain older gentleman who would stop by. At that point, she would follow him until she discovered where he lived.

  Her thoughts stopped as she skimmed the few vendors on the street. But it wasn’t them that she searched for, it was any older children who seemed to be lurking.