by Kate Pearce
Edwin took a deep breath and kept a wary eye on the ghost, who appeared to be listening intently to their conversation. “Charlie’s right, Violet. Your Benedict did come through the wall, and he probably locked the door, trapping us in here.”
“Oh, God,” Charlie whispered.
“He only did it because he was trying to help me win Charlie’s heart.” Violet blushed. “Which is why I’ve been attempting to find him and tell him that dream has ended. In truth, the only person who has saved me from peril this week is you, Edwin.”
“Are you trying to tell me that this apparition put you in danger just so Charlie could save you?” Edwin said slowly as the ghost stopped his low moaning and definitely winked at him.
“He offered to help me, but Charlie was already falling in love with Letty so his efforts were both unnecessary and unsuccessful.” She briefly looked up into his eyes. “Although you proved to be a remarkably capable substitute when I needed help.”
“Edwin’s like that. Always dependable, always there for a chap. Now, can we bloody well go?” Charlie retreated further down the room.
Edwin had no intention of going anywhere until he puzzled things through. “Did Benedict cause the roof tile to fall?”
“Yes, and for the dog to attack me in the courtyard.” Violet frowned. “I’m not sure about the pixie in the woods.”
“Violet, are you insane?” Charlie turned to his brother. “Did she hit her head or something?”
“Not that I am aware of, Charlie. Please calm down. None of us can leave this room until Mr. Nankervis allows us to do so.”
“We’ll see about that.” Charlie marched back to the door and fought with the latch before kicking the solid wooden structure in disgust.
“I’m not sure quite how to tell you this, my darling.” Edwin took Violet’s hand. “But Benedict Nankervis died three hundred years ago.”
“Don’t be silly, Edwin.” Violet actually laughed. “He’s standing right there.”
“He’s shimmering, and I can see through him!” Charlie interjected, an increasing note of terror in his voice.
Violet’s brow creased. “He looks quite substantial to me.”
Edwin addressed the ghost directly. “Will you tell her, or shall I?”
Benedict Nankervis offered him a courtly bow. “Thou truly art a brave man, unlike your pale, puking brother.”
“Thank you. Now would you like to explain yourself to Violet? She seems to think you are real.”
Benedict chuckled. “I am often more… visible to those who need my services. They speak to my heart. I cannot ignore their desires.”
Violet bit her lip. “Are you really a ghost?”
“Indeed, Mistress Violet, I fear it is so.” Benedict slowly nodded.
“But… why on earth…” Violet swallowed hard. “Why did you speak to me at all?”
“Because thou wert heartsick, Mistress.” He threw his arms wide. “And I am a purveyor of love in all its many wondrous entities.”
“Then you certainly failed with me!” Violet said tartly, and Edwin fought a smile.
Benedict raised an eyebrow. “Did I, Mistress? I beg to disagree. Dost thou not know thine own heart and mind far better now? Hast thou found thy true love?”
Edwin held his breath as Violet briefly glanced at him and then away.
“I thought I might have done,” she whispered. “But I was mistaken.”
“Violet—” Edwin reached for her hand, but she stepped closer to the ghost.
“Did you truly attempt to make Charlie fall in love with me, Benedict?”
“Nay, Mistress. His heart was already taken,” Benedict said gently.
“I see.” Violet went to pat his puffed sleeve and then hesitated. “You are fading away.”
“That’s because he’s a ghost, Vi!” Charlie marched forward, grabbed her by the elbow, and yanked her backward. “Don’t touch him!”
Benedict angled his head in Charlie’s direction. “I would not harm her.”
“How do I know that?” Charlie demanded.
“Because I give you my word?”
“How did you die?” Knowing Charlie’s wayward temper, Violet hastily intervened. “Why are you still here?”
Benedict eased a finger beneath the frills of his ruff and scratched his neck. “Because I am cursed to haunt these halls.”
“Cursed by whom?”
“The king.”
“King George?”
“Nay, Mistress, by my king, the most glorious monarch King Henry VIII of England.”
“Why did he curse you?”
Benedict’s smile was wry. “He visited us here once at Castle Keyvnor. It was a great honor for my lord, and I was ordered to oversee the festivities for the royal visit. I organized many dancers, wrote a new play in his honor, and composed a ballad to his queen that I sang as he and his wife entered the courtyard.”
“And?” Edwin prompted.
“Alas and alack, news of his setting aside his first queen for that strumpet Anne Boleyn had not reached the wilds of Cornwall, and the song I sang… glorifying the sainted Queen Katherine and calling his mistress, Anne, a witch and a whore was not well received by the lady or her new husband.”
“Oh dear!” Violet brought her hand to her mouth. “What did they do to you?”
Benedict shrugged. “Halfway through the third verse of my song, which was one of my best I must say, I was seized by the king’s guards, thrown to my knees, and beheaded.”
“Beheaded!” Charlie scoffed. “Over a song?” He poked Violet in the ribs. “He probably died of the plague, or something boring, and made this story up.”
“Art though calling me a liar, Master Charles?” Benedict demanded.
“Well, come on. This is a bit farfetched, isn’t it?”
“Thou dost not believe I was beheaded?”
Charlie shrugged and Benedict raised his hands to his neck, and very slowly lifted off his head.
With a strangled sound Charlie crumpled to the floor in a swoon.
Violet sighed and directed her gaze downward to the ghost’s head, which was now tucked under his arm. “Did you have to do that, Benedict? Now look at him.”
She crouched next to Charlie and patted his ashen cheek. “Are you all right, Charlie?”
He groaned, but kept his eyes tightly shut.
Tutting, Violet stood and gazed at Benedict and Edwin who were grinning at each other as the ghost repositioned his head in its correct location.
“Why aren’t you screaming in terror as well, Edwin?” she inquired.
“Because someone needs to remain calm.”
She raised her chin. “And protect me from Benedict who has been nothing but helpful?”
Edwin studied the toes of his polished boots. “Actually, I was hoping you were going to protect me from him.”
“But thou art her hero, Master Edwin. Thou has saved her from peril more than once in the past few days.”
“He’s right. You have,” Violet acknowledged
“But only because of his misdirection,” Edwin said. “As you know, Violet, I am not really that kind of man at all. I’m just the boring heir to a viscount.” He bowed to the ghost. “If you have achieved your aim of half scaring my brother to death, Master Benedict, then will you please allow us to leave?”
Benedict returned the bow in a far more dramatic and elegant fashion.
“But thou hast not spoken to thine lady of thy true feelings for her.”
A twist of pain crossed Edwin’s features. “Trust me, she doesn’t want to hear them.”
“How dost thou know this?”
“Because she thinks I’ve just been making up to her to keep her away from Charlie.”
When he said it out loud it sounded almost as ridiculous as Violet’s attempts to deny that Edwin’s deception had wounded her far more deeply than Charlie finding the love of his life. She’d been clinging to her old dream of marrying Charlie to escape the bleakness of the future her stepmoth
er had assigned to her. She had to let him go and move forward.
Edwin crouched beside Charlie, his back to Violet. “Please feel free to leave when the door is opened, Miss DeLisle. I’ll take care of my brother.”
Violet was almost at the door before she slowed down and then stopped. Turning around she caught Benedict’s eye, and he gave her an encouraging wink.
“What true feelings?”
Edwin went still, and then rose to his feet and came toward her.
“That I love you. That I have always loved you.”
“Oh, my.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Is that all you have to say?”
“But I have behaved horribly toward you.”
“Only under the greatest of provocation.” He half-smiled. “And they do say that love is blind, so mayhap I missed most of your horribleness.” He drew in a sharp breath. “But I’m not Charlie, and I never will be.”
“Well, thank goodness for that, or I would not be standing here right now,” Violet said, her voice trembling. “I might not need to be protected like Letty, but I cannot deny that having a strong man to lean on is remarkably thrilling.”
They both glanced at the inert figure on the floor.
“I do not need a wife to manage me,” Edwin said. “I need a wife who can stand by my side and be my equal, someone willing to shoulder the responsibilities of my rank and position.”
“And become a vicountess,” Violet said with wonder. “Oh my goodness, my father will be thrilled!” She hastily cleared her throat. “Not that you have asked me to be your wife.”
Edwin took the final step toward her and drew her into his arms.
“Of course I want to marry you, you lovely, enchanting, exasperating pea goose!”
Seeing as he immediately kissed her, she couldn’t respond to his teasing and immediately forgot about it in the pleasure of rediscovering his unique taste.
Eventually she did manage to speak, her hand clutching at his waistcoat. “How can you love me when I have been so foolish about your brother?”
“Because I always hoped that one day you’d see me, not just as your friend, but the man you could grow to love and cherish in his own right.”
She touched his cheek. “I already do. In his own way, Benedict did open my eyes and showed me a man worthy to be my hero. You are worth ten of Charlie—to me.”
“Excuse me. I am still here,” Charlie spoke rather plaintively from the floor. “I love you both dearly, but there’s still the little matter of that headless ghost hovering over me and a locked door.”
Edwin released Violet and she went to Benedict, who had taken a seat next to Charlie.
“Thank you, my friend. Even though it appears you really are a ghost, you have shown me the error of my ways more clearly than anyone living.”
He rose and bowed. “As I intended, Mistress. Sometimes true love needs a little assistance to flower.”
She blinked as he became even more insubstantial, his body disappearing and blending into the walls behind him. She reached out a hand.
“Don’t go.”
“But I must. Thou hast found true love, and no longer need me.” He cleared his throat and proclaimed, “I feel within me, a peace above all earthly dignities. A still and quiet conscience. Fare thee well, Mistress Violet.”
“Shakespeare, King Henry VIII,” murmured Edwin. “Rather after his time, one thinks.”
With a last wink, a grin, and a flourish of his hat Benedict disappeared, leaving Violet close to tears.
“Well thank God for that,” Charlie said fervently. “I thought I’d never live to see my own wedding, let alone yours.” He rolled onto his side and got up, swaying rather alarmingly, and rubbed the back of his head. He was still rather pale. “Must have tripped over something and banged my head. Only way to explain all this.”
Violet met Edwin’s gaze and fought a smile as he reclaimed her hand.
“The door is unlocked, so you can leave whenever you wish, Charlie.”
Her soon-to-be brother-in-law looked at them. “Ah, yes, I see you want to be alone.”
“How very perceptive of you.” Edwin nodded at his brother. “Now go away and shut the door behind you while I attempt to convince Violet that she really has no other choice but to marry me.”
Charlie’s grin was like the sun. “I don’t think she’ll need much convincing.” He gave Violet a quick hug. “Welcome to the Sutton family, love.”
She ducked her head against Edwin’s chest as the door closed behind Charlie.
“I feel like a fool.”
He stroked her hair. “For loving me?”
“No, for not realizing it sooner.” She cupped his chin. “You’ve always been the right man for me. We’re already best friends, I obviously like kissing you, I know and love your family, so why did I need the intervention of a ghost to make me see the truth?”
“I think you would have worked it out eventually, love. You are a remarkably intelligent woman.” He kissed her gently. “And I had already decided that you would be mine.”
“You’d decided?”
“Yes.”
She sighed and placed her hand over his heart. “I always thought knights in shining armor were confined to fairy tales, but I am beginning to believe I’ve captured one of my very own.”
“Well, I’ve certainly saved you from ‘deadly peril’, but do try to remember that I’m really quite an ordinary man.”
“Never.” She went on tiptoe to kiss him again.
After a while, he drew back and studied her face. “Do you wish me to approach your father before we leave here?”
“Only if you are sure—”
He placed his finger over her lips. “I am more sure of this than anything in my life, but I want you to be sure as well.”
She felt herself blushing. “Then please go ahead. He will be much easier to deal with on our trip home if he believes my future lies with you.”
“And perhaps more willing to see Letty marry Charlie?”
“That, too.”
He kissed her fingers and held onto her hand. “Then why don’t we go and find both our fathers and share the good news?”
He held the door open for her and bowed her through. Her last sight was of Benedict doing a jig as he waved his hat in the air like a banner. Her ghostly matchmaker had opened her eyes to a whole new future, and for that she would be eternally grateful.
Edwin reclaimed her hand as they walked along the corridor.
“What do you think of the name Benedict for our first child?”
“If he is a boy.” She squeezed his fingers hard. “I personally can’t think of anything better.”
About Kate Pearce
NYT and USA Today bestselling author Kate Pearce was born in England in the middle of a large family of girls and quickly found that her imagination was far more interesting than real life. After acquiring a degree in history and barely escaping from the British Civil Service alive, she moved to California and then to Hawaii with her kids and her husband and set about reinventing herself as a romance writer.
She is known for both her unconventional heroes and her joy at subverting romance clichés. In her spare time she self publishes science fiction erotic romance, historical romance, and whatever else she can imagine.
Connect With Kate
@Kate4Queen
kate.pearce.792
www.katepearce.com
The Earl of Banfield’s Last Will & Testament
In the Name of God, Amen, I, Jonathan Hambly, Earl of Banfield, of Bocka Morrow in the County of Cornwall, resident of Castle Keyvnor, on this 11th day of August, 1811, being of weak body but of sound mind hereby declare this to be my last Will and Testament.
Gentlemen, first I will that all my just debts and funeral expenses shall be paid by my Trustees and Executors hereinafter named.
I charge my second cousin Allan Hambly, with the care of my wife, Evelyn DeLisle Hambly, shall she survive me. Allan Hambly shall
see to her care and comfort within Castle Keyvnor for the remainder of her days. Allan Hambly shall continue to employ the servants who currently serve and see to her care and comfort.
I give and bequeath to my second cousin Allan Hambly the sum of twenty thousand pounds of Lawful money of Great Britain, the same sum my wife brought to the marriage, for her care, comfort and for wages of the servants tasked with her care.
I give and bequeath to my sister Octavia North Barrows the cameo that belonged to our mother.
I give and bequeath to Daniel Goodenham, Viscount North Barrows, the sum of one thousand pounds of Lawful money of Great Britain.
I give and bequeath to my nephew Peter Priske, Earl of Widcombe, my 1721 edition of The Works of Geoffrey Chauceras.
I give and bequeath to my niece Gwnedolyn Beck, Marchioness of Halesworth, the blue and gold porcelain tea service.
I give and bequeath to Blade Hambly, controlling interests in two cooper mines and my collection of papers by astronomers William Wolleston, William Herschel, Pierre Simon Laplace and John Goodricke.
I give and bequeath to Lucien De Roye, my holdings of stock in the East India Dock Company.
I give and bequeath to Clive DeLisle, the red, orange, blue, green, gold and silver monstrosity of a vase.
I give and bequeath to Christopher Deering, Marquess of Brauning, my marbled clay pipe.
I give and bequeath to Jane Hawkins, the Kirkbourne estate.
I give and bequeath to Viscount Sutton, my 1725 edition of Homer’s Odyssey.
I give and bequeath to Baron Dinedor, ten thousand pounds of Lawful money of Great Britain.
I give and bequeath to Mr. Gryffyn Cardew, the parcel of Lancarrow land as laid out in the original sale.
I give and bequeath to Adam Vail, the land currently occupied by the Boswell gypsies.
I give and bequeath to St. David’s Church in the village of Bocka Morrow, two thousand pounds of Lawful money of Great Britain, for their roofing fund.
I give and bequeath to my servant and valet, Mr. Simpkins if he lives with me at the time of my Death all my wearing apparel and one years wages above what may be due to him at my Decease.
