“But—what makes you believe that?”
“I did not realize a phantom would need such explanations.” Louisa lifted her full basket and slid it into the crook of her arm. “I have not searched your library, but knowing you came to this area from Scotland at the same time King James ascended to the throne makes me believe it was not a coincidence.”
“I can bring back the book. There is no need to go to the Lodge.”
“But what if there is more than the single book? Your library could have all sorts of information that might help. Diaries, for example. Did you keep a diary when you were alive?” She approached, wondering at what point he would confess himself to her.
“D-d-diary? No. That is, I don’t think—” The gentleman started moving backward as he spoke, without turning, and nearly tripped over several tree roots. He winced. “Miss Banner, must we go to the library today?”
“There is nothing to stop us. You are a ghost, so I cannot see why it bothers you. Everyone says the family is in London, and there are only four servants for the whole of the Lodge. We need only find an unlocked window or door to slip inside. I can be unobtrusive.”
His face blanched. “You would sneak into a house unknown to you, uninvited?”
Louisa had to bite her lip to keep from laughing at him. He looked more a ghost at that moment than he had all day, his face pale, his eyes wide as a dinner plate. His level of panic, while amusing, might mean he had no connection to the Grey family at all. Despite his alarm, she sensed nothing malicious about him. The gentleman before her seemed more uncertain of himself than bent on any sort of mischief.
Pausing in her advance, Louisa pretended to think. “I suppose I could ask the housekeeper permission to peruse the library, but I cannot see why she would grant such a favor to a stranger.”
At that, his posture changed. His shoulders stiffened and his eyebrows furrowed. “No.” He sighed and rubbed his hand over his eyes. “Let me go first to ensure the way is clear, Miss Banner. Then you may have access to my books. Give me but a few minutes’ head start.”
Though she gave up on hiding her smile, Louisa lowered her voice as though speaking to a co-conspirator. “Oh. Will you vanish before my eyes and reappear again when I may enter the house?”
Mr. Grey narrowed his eyes at her. They stood no more than ten feet apart now, both of them beneath the shadows of the tree. Did he realize she attempted to mock him? That she no more thought him a ghost than herself a queen?
“I should not wish to upset or shock you by such a display, Miss Banner.” With that somewhat stiff comment, he bowed. “A few minutes, if you please.”
Then he turned and strode away toward the house, not bothering with a path, but walking through the woods as though completely familiar with them. If he hadn’t such a fine manner of speaking, Louisa may have thought him a groundskeeper. But then, he dressed very fine. His overcoat looked as though it came from a London tailor, based on the modern cut of the cloth.
“This is really not fair,” Louisa muttered to herself. “First a treasure, now a mysterious stranger.” It was the stuff of fiction, and she ought not to have indulged herself by pursuing either curious things. Yet, what else was there for her to do? Her aunt put her out of doors at every chance, though with kindness rather than an attempt to put Louisa aside.
Given that the alternative was to think upon her own circumstances, Louisa much preferred her chosen distractions. A penniless girl of one-and-twenty, living with an obscure relative, really had few other options. An uncertain future loomed ahead of her, without a home or funds of her own. If her parents had given her a better education, she might become a governess. With social connections, she might even find a position as a companion to an older woman. But the reality was that she was both unskilled and unconnected.
At the moment, there was a new energy burning in her heart. For all her mother’s attempts to keep Louisa focused on the social aspects of town life, to strive for an advantageous match and nothing more, her life had been dull. Placid.
But here, despite her fears of coming to Northumberland alone, she had felt more alive than she ever had in the stuffy drawing rooms of her previous life. What could such mean? Was she an ungrateful daughter?
Louisa shuddered and tucked away her worries for another day.
She had given Mr. Grey enough of a head start. Tightening her grip on her basket, she lowered her head and went after him.
Chapter 9
For Ras, clearing the way for Miss Banner to barge into his library proved uncomfortable. As soon as he thought himself out of sight of the overly curious woman, he broke into a run to return to the Lodge. He went through the front door too quickly, causing it to bang open, but Ras kept up his speed through the corridor to the kitchen.
When he entered, Mrs. Douglas was crossing the room with a long wooden spoon in hand as though she intended to make an attack with the utensil. She stopped in her tracks upon seeing him and placed her free hand over her heart. “Mr. Grey, was that you banging open the door? You gave me such a fright.”
Fright. If only the woman knew.
“Mrs. Douglas, I need you to stay away from the library. In fact, if you can remain out of that part of the house entirely for the better part of an hour, it would be best.”
Her eyebrows drew together, her confusion clear in her expression. “Of course, sir.”
Ras nodded and turned, pleased to have the matter so easily settled.
“Might I ask why, sir?”
His shoulders hunched. To explain that an attractive, unmarried woman wished to make use of his library would take time. Though Mrs. Douglas was his servant, employed by the family, she had known him since boyhood. Her disapproval of his actions would be both merited and unpleasant.
“I have important work to do.” He did not face her when he spoke. Part of her knowing him since childhood was that the woman had an uncanny knack of knowing exactly when he told a falsehood. She had caught him out in many a fib as a child, and he had no wish for her to catch him as an adult.
When she did not immediately respond, Ras hastened out the door and into the main corridor. Should he allow Miss Banner in through the front door? Would she think it strange? But sound echoed awfully through the foyer. What if Mrs. Douglas heard another set of steps, or even Miss Banner’s voice?
Ras went to the library with its view of the road. On the ground floor, the library’s large set of windows overlooked the drive. He crossed the room and opened them wide, then looked down.
The windows were too high to make an easy climb for Miss Banner. And what sort of gentleman would he be if he allowed a lady to crawl through the shrubs below to hoist herself through a window?
A flash of color brought his gaze up, and he saw her coming through the trees.
“Thunderation.”
A side door. It was the only thing that made sense. But how to get to her before she arrived at the front door?
He looked down from the window again, into the shrubs.
There was no help for it.
He vaulted over the edge of the window and into the shrubs. At least one branch snapped, and his coat caught fast enough he had to wrench himself forward to unstick his coat.
Emerging from the bushes, Ras saw Miss Banner staring at him. His exit from the window had made more of a racket than he wished, but it was too late to worry over that now. He adjusted the lapels of his coat and waited for her to make her way across the lawn to him.
“If you were not a ghost,” she said as she neared him, both eyebrows raised, “I would ask if you were all right.”
She had to know. At this point, seeing him hurtle out of a window and charge through bushes with all the grace of a wild boar, she had to know the truth. Yet she kept up the act and seemed to expect him to do the same.
But why? Why not just laugh at him, or sneer at him, and be on her way?
The treasure must be important to her. He could think of no other reason why she would co
ntinue with such a horrible ruse. A ruse he had, quite foolishly, thought he could maintain.
Feeling more than a little sheepish, Ras cleared his throat and gestured with one hand to the corner of the house. “There is no one about to discover you, Miss Banner. If you will come through the side door.”
Miss Banner shot him one last concerned glance before continuing, basket tucked closely to her side. They went around the corner of the house to a door meant to let out into a garden, but the plants were already falling into their winter slumber. There was little of beauty to see in what still remained green. Ras opened the door into a small, dark corridor.
He led the way, but when he looked over his shoulder, he saw Miss Banner hesitating in the doorway.
Ah, yes. This would be the place for her to have her misgivings, he supposed. An unmarried woman, alone with a man and unchaperoned, would face severe repercussions if her actions became known.
He stopped and turned to face her. “The library is three doors down, Miss Banner. On the right. If you wish to make your way there, I will return outside.”
The shadows upon her face, and the light pouring in from behind her, made it difficult to see her expression. But Ras sensed a shift in her posture, and he heard the surprise in her voice.
“You will leave me alone in the house?”
“I can stand beside the window. Outside.” He came back to where she stood, and she hastily moved aside so he did not so much as brush her skirt with the end of his coat. “I will keep watch.” He felt his ears burning. What had he been thinking, trying to put them alone together in a room?
Ghost or not, she would brand him a cad for certain.
He did not wait to see her reaction but kept walking to the shrubbery he had fallen into only minutes before. If Miss Banner wished to take her leave, she could. But he had given her what she asked for in allowing her access to the Lodge’s library.
Ras realized someone walked alongside him. With some trepidation, but also a great deal of annoyance, he glanced over. His many-times great-grandmother, dressed in an elaborate gown of green, walked next to him. She had been a petite woman in life, it would seem, as her head did not even reach the top of Ras’s shoulder. But her countenance, as serene and elegant as it was, could leave no doubt she had been a member of the nobility.
“Grandmother,” Ras said, somewhat cheekily if he were honest with himself.
One of her eyebrows arched. “Though I am loath to admit my husband has the right of things, I must say, grandson, that you do not seem adept at speaking with young ladies.”
First his mother and sisters, now ghosts would tell him how to flirt and behave? Was he truly so hopeless? “She wanted to see the library.”
“And I applaud you for allowing her entrance into the house. But surely, you could have invited her in a more traditional way. Why keep up your play-acting?”
“Because if I admitted out loud that I’m not a ghost, we would be breaking a great many societal customs.”
“Pish.” Elizabeth Grey shook her head. “Honorable young people ought to be allowed in each other’s company without a chaperone always at hand.”
“That isn’t how it’s done.” They turned the corner and Ras saw the open windows, and a head full of dark curls peeping out. He swallowed and looked to his grandmother.
“She cannot see me,” the spirit-woman said. “Not unless I wish her to.”
Ras gritted his teeth together. “Please don’t wish such a thing.” Miss Banner must already think him daft, but if a true ghost appeared, she might take her tale all across the country.
His great-grandmother smiled serenely, obviously unconcerned.
Ras exchanged his grimace for a smile as he approached the window. “I am pleased you found your way, Miss Banner. The book you need, it is on the shelves behind the desk. A tall volume, more of a ledger, really.”
She nodded and ducked back inside. Ras pushed himself slowly through the greenery beneath the window, trying not to make a noise. His head and shoulders came above the window, allowing him a good view of the inside. He watched Miss Banner look through the books on the shelves until she found the one with the years stamped into the leather.
“Here it is.” She tugged the book free of its place and came to the window. “I suppose any mention of Erasmus Grey would be toward the middle?”
“One-third of the way through,” Ras corrected, his head tipped back to speak with her.
Miss Banner appeared to kneel down, given the way she sank closer to him. Then she put the book on the ledge and turned pages, her eyes skimming dates in what amounted to a family-kept history. She slowed when the dates came closer to what she searched for. “King James became king of Scotland and England in 1605—”
“1603,” Ras corrected. He had always had a good head for historical dates.
“Are you certain?”
“Quite.”
“Very well. In 1603, he became king of both countries and sent a Scotsman here. Sometime after. One would think fairly soon after.” Her voice trailed away as she searched, her lips pursed and eyes focused on the pages of the book. She ran a finger down each entry. Some were only a sentence long, others went on for pages, but they were all the things Ras’s ancestors had thought were important enough for the family to remember. Births, marriages, deaths, land deals, which family members participated in battles or went to Parliament. He supposed, given that the Lodge had not been present until the early sixteen-hundreds, the book had been brought from Scotland along with Erasmus Grey.
He had looked at the book a few days previous, merely to confirm the names of his ghosts, but then had busied himself writing his own book.
So he had not looked as closely as Miss Banner did, her dark brown eyes sweeping across the page, brow furrowed in concentration.
As he watched, her eyebrows began to lift, and her lips formed a small “o” of surprise.
“‘In September of 1604, I, Erasmus Grey, took Lady Elizabeth, third daughter of the Duke of Northumberland, to wife. This was done at the behest of His Majesty the King, to further unify our countries. Heaven help Elizabeth and I both.’ Well. He certainly did not seem to like the idea of marrying her.”
Ras dropped his gaze briefly to his great-grandmother’s spirit, where she stood on the other side of the hedge.
She shrugged. “Neither of us were happy, to tell the truth.”
He peeked up to Miss Banner, and she showed no indication of hearing his ghost. So he spoke instead. “I do not think there were many arranged marriages people actually looked forward to, especially if it was between people of different countries.”
Miss Banner’s gaze flicked only briefly to meet his, then went back to the book. “Then there is an account of building a house in Havenwood. This house?”
“Yes.” Ras wished he was beside her, looking at the pages himself, rather than standing in the dirt beneath the window.
She turned the page.
He hadn’t made it that far in his cursory glance at the pages.
Why hadn’t he thought to read more about the ghosts?
“Oh.” She started to smile. “I think they must have overcome their differences, at least in part. There is a list of their children—they had nine.”
Ras perked up at that and looked to the ghost again. She only smiled serenely at him. Miss Banner again turned the page. “More accounts of laws enacted, debts paid. Nothing serious. No mention of the treasure. But it is interesting that the note I found was correct. Erasmus Grey and Lady Elizabeth married because of the king.”
“To cement relations between Scotland and England.” Ras had no idea his family had been part of such a thing. How had that tale fallen away over time? He knew enough to recognize he bore a family name, but no one had ever told him about the man who bore it before him. “Does it say anything else about the two of them?”
Lady Elizabeth chuckled, and he looked to see her watching him with a gleam in her eye. “Now you wish to know
more about us, grandson?”
Miss Banner leaned out the window to look down at him. “Mr. Grey, listen to this. ‘It was wise to trust my best beloved, Lady Elizabeth, all those years ago with the work my king has given me. Together, we have searched for the treasure stolen away from my country to hers. Though I despaired of ever finding it, Elizabeth would not let me give up. I rejoice in my partnership.’”
Ras rocked back on his heels. “The king really sent someone to find the treasure. They all thought it was real.” As a boy, spending lazy summer days searching the woods and ruins for treasure, he had hoped it was real. As he aged, he had put all rumor of the treasure aside as nothing more than a tale for children. That was what everyone else in Harbottle and Alwinton did.
Miss Banner shifted, leaning out the window. Her face was closer to his, and her eyes glittered at him. “Mr. Grey. You must mean that the king sent you to find the treasure.”
He blinked up at her, that slip of his tongue the last he wanted to make. Pretending to be a ghost, a ghost he actually knew existed, had stretched at last to the breaking point. He had been dishonest to the point of ridiculousness.
Ras lowered his voice, speaking with earnest intent. “No, that is not what I meant. And you know that, Miss Banner.”
The color in her cheeks darkened, and she lowered her gaze. “Who are you, really?”
“I gave you my name. That has not changed. I am only named after the man who wrote in that book.” He nodded to where her hand pressed flat against the pages. “He is my ancestor.”
“Oh.” Miss Banner’s eyes widened. “But everyone said you were not at home, that the family is in London—”
“The rest of the family is there. I came alone, and I didn’t wish anyone to know. I still don’t wish anyone to know.” He sighed and scratched the back of his head. “I would rather not be bothered with people and their expectations, Miss Banner. I am quite busy with other things.”
The young woman slowly closed the book, her shoulders falling along with her expression. “Then I shall leave you alone, Mr. Grey, and apologize for taking up your time.”
A Haunting at Havenwood (Seasons of Change Book 6) Page 9
