by Kate Pearce
A serving maid passed through the hall, and Jane rushed toward her. “Excuse me. But…I heard a noise. I think someone needs help.”
The maid stopped a moment, and said, “I’m sorry, miss, but I’m needed in the kitchen.”
“But don’t you hear the screaming?” As soon as Jane spoke of it, the sound abruptly stopped.
“I’m sure it’s nothing, miss.” The maid’s expression remained disinterested, as if she heard the sound all the time. Was she ignoring it? It was impossible for her not to have heard the shrieking. But her behavior suggested that it was nothing out of the ordinary. Jane waited a moment, expecting to hear the wailing again, but there was nothing.
“If you’ll excuse me, miss.” The maid bobbed a curtsy and moved back in the direction of the kitchen.
Jane questioned whether or not to pursue the sound, but it was the clear the maid had no intention of investigating it. She paused at the bottom of the staircase and waited. Inwardly, she was torn on whether to abandon her search. In the end, she decided to walk up the staircase and listen to hear if she heard any further noises. It seemed a good compromise rather than to trespass where she wasn’t wanted.
She walked up the first spiral staircase and then the second, pausing at each landing. At first, she heard nothing. But when she reached the last staircase, she heard the piercing scream, followed by wailing.
“He’s dead. Oh God, my son is dead!”
The woman’s shrieking sent a chill through her, and Jane froze in place. She remembered that Lady Banfield had lost her five-year-old son, and there were never any more children.
Was it possible that she could still be alive? Jane didn’t believe such a notion, for everyone would know about it. Unless it truly was a ghost.
Every instinct warned her to flee, but her brain reminded her that ghosts were not real. If this truly was a flesh-and-blood person, it wasn’t right to abandon a woman in need of help.
Jane lowered her head and continued up the stairs. From behind her, she heard rapid footsteps approaching.
“Get back!” a male voice snarled. Jane turned to see who it was, but before she could get a clear glimpse of the servant, he seized her arm and shoved her down the stairs. Her body jolted against the hard ridges of the wooden steps, and she tried to regain her footing. Instead, she tumbled hard until she reached the landing.
It hurt to breathe, and she gasped for air, for the wind had been knocked out of her. For a moment, she felt her ribcage, wondering if she had broken any bones.
“You will not go any further,” the man shouted from the top of the stairs. Jane tried to catch a glimpse of the man’s face, but there was no clear view of him. “If you dare to disturb her, I will kill you.” He slammed the door and she heard a key turning in the lock.
A shiver crossed her spine at the threat. Was this the same man who had locked her in the cellar? His voice sounded the same. He was clearly trying to frighten her away from Castle Keyvnor—and if that was his intent, he was succeeding. She’d done nothing wrong and twice, someone had tried to hurt her. If she’d had the means to leave, she would have. There were secrets in this place, and somehow her life was bound up in those invisible bindings.
Jane sat up gingerly. It didn’t seem that she had broken anything—but her body would have bruises for some time. She steadied herself and held on to the railing as she hoisted herself to her feet. The screaming had stopped, and she walked back downstairs, feeling shaken.
“Miss Hawkins,” a voice called out. “Are you all right?”
She turned and saw Devon Lancaster approaching. The moment she saw him, she felt the urge to weep in his arms. She wanted to feel his embrace and pour out her fears.
Instead, she squared her shoulders and joined him. “I—I think so.”
He hurried to stand before her. “You look upset and frightened. Almost as if you’ve seen a ghost.” His expression turned concerned, and he reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear.
“Not a ghost. But someone who pushed me down the stairs.” She kept her voice low and explained what happened. “I swear to you, I heard a woman screaming. I couldn’t just walk away from a woman in trouble.”
His face turned grim. “It might be that you did hear a ghost. I heard stories over dinner about the ghost of the late Lady Banfield.”
“I heard the same during breakfast. But what sort of man would lock his wife away?”
He offered her his arm, and she took it, feeling comfort at his presence beside her. “I don’t know. But if you want me to ask the servants about the noise in the turret, I can.”
“I already tried, but the maid was ignoring it.” She stopped walking a moment. “What I want is to leave this castle and not look back. From the moment I’ve arrived, it has brought me nothing but fear and danger.”
“Will you let me guard you?” he asked quietly.
She wanted to say yes but questioned whether it was wise to spend time with this man. Whether or not he realized it, his very presence drew her closer. And both of them knew there could be nothing between them.
“I think I should make arrangements to go home,” she countered.
“And what of Lady Marjorie? She will be remaining here, since Castle Keyvnor is to be her new home.”
“For a time,” Jane agreed. “But I always intended to go back.”
“Stay a little longer,” he urged. “You were meant to come here. You should find out why.”
“And what if I do not want the answers?” It terrified her to think of who her father had been, or to discover why someone wanted her far from here.
He covered her hand with his gloved palm. “Running away won’t change anything, Jane.”
The use of her first name brought about an unexpected intimacy between them, but she said nothing to correct him.
“You’re right.” She rubbed at her bruised arms, wincing when she touched her ribs. “But I cannot ask you to be with me at every moment.”
His expression turned thoughtful. “Believe me, it would not be a hardship.” A sudden warmth suffused her at his words, and she reminded herself once again that they would be friends and nothing more.
When they reached the main hall, he paused a moment. “If you want me to escort you back to your room, I would be glad to. Or, if you would prefer to be surrounded by people, I understand there will be card games in the parlor.”
The logical choice was to lie down and rest after she’d been shoved down the stairs. And yet, the idea of being alone in her room made her wary. Someone could still break inside, and there would be no one to hear her call out for help.
“I suppose I’ll join the others in cards.” At least then, she would be in a public place where no one could harm her.
“Lady Marjorie tells me that you are an outstanding whist player.”
She wasn’t about to boast so simply shrugged. “I have played the game often.” It was scandalous enough that she played cards in secret. Her adopted father would be outraged if he knew that she excelled at the games. But she’d always been able to use reasoning and memory to make decisions on when to play a trump.
“Would you like to be my partner?” he inquired.
“I don’t believe that would be wise. If you are truly here to find a bride, you should use this as a chance to become better acquainted with a wealthy young lady. Not me.”
They stopped in front of the parlor where men and women were beginning to choose partners. The ladies had paired up together and the gentlemen chose their own tables. It was safer that way, Jane thought. At least she would not have to worry about a pair of green eyes studying her with unconcealed interest.
And she could ignore the pounding of her own heart.
Devon played to win, much to his partner’s delight. He and Teddy Lockwood played hand after hand, and it did seem that luck was with him tonight. Oddly enough, he was hardly paying any attention. Instead, he was staring across the room at Miss Hawkins, who appeared to be winning ag
ainst her opponents.
Jane stood out from the other young ladies, not only because of her sensible dark blue gown, but also because of her severe updo. The other young women were beautifully dressed in silks with jewels adorning their throats and wrists. And yet, Jane’s eyes gleamed with the spark of competition. Her cheeks were flushed and she had a small pile of coins before her.
“You have the devil’s own luck it seems.” Jack tossed in his hand of cards and glared at Devon.
“Perhaps I have a ghost whispering secrets in my ear.” It wasn’t true, but he didn’t mind poking fun at his friend.
“Don’t say ghost,” Michael Beck complained.
“If I didn’t know better, I’d swear that was true.” Jack leaned back in his chair and shook his head at his partner.
“But before we start another hand,” Michael began, “and before I lose more money, tell me what else you’ve learned about Miss Hawkins.”
Devon didn’t know why the sudden interest, but he straightened. “Why do you ask?” He felt a protective instinct toward Jane and didn’t want either of the men eyeing her.
Michael reached for the cards and began shuffling the deck. “If she is indeed an heiress, you’re not the only man here with an interest.”
Beneath the table, his hands curled into fists. He didn’t know what had provoked the surge of jealousy, but he didn’t want anyone bothering Jane. His friends exchanged knowing looks, and Michael dealt the next hand.
“Don’t even consider it,” Devon warned. “She’s a lady, one who deserves better than the likes of you.” Or himself, if the truth be known. Still, he didn’t want these men bothering her.
“Try not to kill them before we’ve finished the next hand,” Teddy interrupted. “We are winning, after all.” He picked up his cards and leaned back in his chair.
“Turn your attention back to Lady Cassandra and away from Miss Hawkins,” Devon warned Jack. “And as for you—” He gave a hard stare to Michael “—find another heiress. Miss Hawkins doesn’t believe she’ll inherit much of anything.”
Yet, even as he spoke the words, he had his doubts. Anyone who would go to such lengths to drive Jane away from Castle Keyvnor—locking her in the wine cellar and pushing her down the stairs—had a strong reason. And he believed that it involved the secret of her father.
What if her father was supposed to be the true heir instead of Allan Hambly? It might change everything.
Devon didn’t know what the reasons were, but he fully intended to protect Jane until the will was read. Only then would they know why someone was trying to harm her.
“You’re still staring at her, Lancaster.” Teddy pointed to the cards in front of Devon. “And it’s your turn.”
He was about to pick up his hand when he saw an older matron standing in front of Jane. The woman was chastising her for some reason, and Jane looked taken aback by her words. She stood from her chair, putting down her cards.
“I’ll be back in a moment,” Devon said, tucking a deck of cards into his coat pocket. He didn’t know what was happening, but he crossed the room in a few paces before Jane could leave.
“Is everything all right?” he asked her quietly.
Jane was about to answer, but then the matron cut her off. “Of course not. Miss Hawkins clearly doesn’t understand that gently bred women do not gamble.”
“You’ve lost money, then?” he predicted.
The stout woman rested her hands upon her waist. “I would never consider wagering in cards. It’s simply not done.”
To Jane, Devon asked, “How much did she lose?”
She shrugged. “Her daughters, Lady Samantha and Lady Cassandra, played against Marjorie and me. We were only making small wagers.”
“Any wagers at all are inappropriate,” the woman insisted. “And if you were from a decent family, you would know this.”
Jane’s expression held a brittle smile, but she stood from the gaming table and excused herself, leaving the coins behind. “Marjorie, you can see to it that Lady Widcombe receives everything back.”
Her face was flushed, but she strode toward the door. Devon tried to slow her down. “You aren’t going to let her spoil your evening, are you?”
“I think my day was most thoroughly spoiled already.” She moved past him and walked into the hallway. He followed while she hastened toward the stairs. Once she reached them, she stopped and regarded him. “What are you doing, Mr. Lancaster?”
“Exactly what I promised. I said I would ensure that you were safe. Unless you believe this staircase is safer than the last one?”
Her eyes filled with tears, and she rested her hands on the bannister. “I don’t know what to think anymore. Right now I want to go cry in my room, but I don’t think I can do even that.”
He offered his handkerchief. “I could take you someplace safe, for now. Perhaps the library or even the chapel, if you like.”
She dabbed at her eyes and nodded. “The library, then. But I want you to first ensure that there are no men lurking about. And I want the door to be propped open so we aren’t locked inside.”
“I heartily agree.” He walked with her down the hallway, guiding her in the right direction. It was getting late, and the candlelight cast shadows against the lofted ceilings. Devon thought he caught a glimpse of the Tudor ghost smiling at them from high above the Hall. It was unnerving, but he tried to ignore it.
Right now, he wanted Jane’s day to end better than it had begun. They continued walking through the hallway until they reached the library. Devon opened the door for her, and the moment Jane saw the interior, she smiled. The high ceiling was made of a rich wood with ribbed vaulting. Long wooden columns spanned the distance to the floor, and there was a second level of bookshelves with a walkway and balcony running down the length of the room.
“There must be hundreds of books in here,” Jane breathed. She appeared delighted by the sight of them, and her tears were momentarily forgotten. For a few minutes, she browsed through the bookcases, and Devon noticed the arrival of the Tudor ghost. The spirit beamed at them, his blue eyes twinkling as he took a position on the second floor of the library. He rested his hands upon the balcony, as if enjoying a play.
Devon wasn’t certain if Jane could even see the ghost but decided not to mention it. After everything that had happened, he didn’t want her to be terrified of the meddling spirit.
“Feeling better?” he asked. Jane trailed her fingertips over the books and then turned back to face him.
“A little.” She offered him his handkerchief back and admitted, “This has been the worst day I’ve ever had.”
There were two wingback chairs beside one of the bookcases with a table between them. Devon motioned for her to sit down a moment, and then he withdrew the deck of cards he’d brought from the parlor. “Would you care to play a round of German whist?”
She studied him with an amused gaze. “Lady Widcombe said it’s not ladylike to gamble.”
“Only because her daughters were losing. I don’t lose,” Devon said.
As he’d hoped, her eyes lit up with the challenge. “Only because you’ve never played against me.”
Devon began shuffling and dealing out the cards, and Jane glanced toward the door. “Do you suppose we ought to fetch a chaperone? It’s not right to be alone. Perhaps we should get two more players.”
He shrugged. “I wasn’t planning to stay that long. Only for a few hands. But if you don’t feel safe with me…”
Jane shook her head. “No, I suppose you’re right. You’ve gotten me out of many scrapes thus far.” She picked up her cards and studied them for a moment while he flipped up the trump card. He set the stack of undealt cards to the side
“Spades,” he remarked. He studied her for any sort of reaction, but she appeared too interested in sorting her cards.
She led her first card, a queen of diamonds. He trumped it with a nine of spades. “My trick.”
But she only gave him a slight s
mile. He collected the top card from the deck, and the game progressed round by round, until they were down to the last eight cards. She had played with strategy, discerning which were his weaker suits, until the deck was nearly gone. All the while, he could hardly take his gaze off her.
Jane lit up from within as she competed during the game. At one interval, she tucked one foot beneath her skirts, pondering her hand. She bit her lip, deciding which card to play, and the gesture drew his attention back to her mouth.
Which made him want to kiss her again.
Abruptly, she laid down the ace of spades. “You’ve lost, Mr. Lancaster.”
“There are several more rounds,” he countered, tossing away a two of spades. “It’s not over yet.” They both were tied with equal tricks taken. But for the life of him, he could barely remember which cards had been played. He’d been too distracted by her.
Jane smiled and laid down the king, queen, and jack of spades. “It is most definitely over. I win.”
He tossed his hand and leaned back in the chair. “I would say we both won.”
“How do you mean?” She gathered the cards and began to shuffle them.
“I made you smile again.”
Her expression faltered, but then her mouth softened. “You did try to redeem my horrid day.” She set aside the deck and added, “I never imagined it would be like this.” He waited for her to continue, and she added, “I thought I could come to Castle Keyvnor and remain in the background where no one would notice me.”
“Any man would notice you,” Devon countered. “Unless he was dead.”
At that, the ghost coughed heavily and shook his head. Devon had nearly forgotten about the specter, and he acknowledged, “Or even those who are dead. Perhaps the ghosts of this castle have noticed you.”
Now the Tudor ghost smiled and began to preen. He pulled out a lute and plucked a few strings. Jane leaned her head to the side. “Do you hear that?”
“Hear what?” He wanted to know exactly what she was sensing, for truthfully, he had no idea whether the ghost was real or not.
“The music.” Her face furrowed, and she listened harder. “I can’t tell where it’s coming from. It almost seems to be coming from the top floor of the library. Is someone there?”
