“You are right. I shall try to keep a stiff upper lip despite the fact that I would much rather stay here and lose myself in the Library. Papa brought back some lovely compilations from his last trip.”
She didn’t say that she wanted to open up those volumes of lovely books because they came from another realm. A realm where magic reigned supreme, and it was said that men and women gifted like she was, could practice the Craft openly. Not only that but they were encouraged to show off their talents.
Her father had found them in a magical bookshop in Paris. The leather bound tomes had probably been brought through when their ancestor Princess Sophie had come to Earth so long ago from the enchanted world of Carn Brea. She didn’t know much about Carn Brea but she knew enough to realize that unlike Earth, those gifted with magic could practice their gifts in the open without having to keep them secret from the rest of the world.
No one knew how to re-open the doorway that had allowed Sophie to transverse through the realms, and Sophie hoped that someday the magical community with ties to Carn Brea would figure out how to safely open that elusive magical doorway, so they could visit the world of their ancestors.
“Forget those dusty old books of yours for one night! Lose yourself in the romance of the ball. Dance, laugh and be merry with the music and your surroundings, my dear lady.”
“And what if I make a right and proper fool of myself? You know my penchant for falling into terrible scrapes.”
“You won’t. How could you on a night like tonight? You are a picture of beauty and grace in your gown. You know how to speak eloquently when the situation demands it, and you had one of the best Dance Masters in all of England. You will be glorious, my lady, don’t you fret.”
Butterflies swarmed the pit of her stomach, and the blasted corset only made it harder for her to breathe. If a fit of nerves took hold of her should the ghosts bother her, she just might faint dead away in front of everyone at the ball and show up in the scandal sheets the next day!
Her door opened and Simone swept dramatically into the room with her face pinched up in that terrible expression that she actually considered a smile.
“Is that what you are going to wear?” Simone asked, pursing her lips up in distaste.
“Yes,” Sophie said, suddenly feeling as if she wore the Scarlett letter.
“I don’t see how you think you will nab a husband wearing the same gown to every single social event. Sylvie has been dead three years, you need to let go of the black for balls and move into another colour.” Sophie could see Pamela simmering. If Simone didn’t leave soon, Pamela would explode! “Alas, you don’t have the time to change into anything better. I am wearing a Worth Gown designed by Jean-Philippe Worth. It cost Uncle a small fortune. Even Charlotte and the twins in their Maison Paquin gowns can’t compete with me. I shall outshine everyone. The single young lords and gentlemen won’t be able to take their eyes off me. I shall be the belle of the ball!”
Sophie heard Pamela muttering bitch of the ball under her breath. Fortunately, Simone couldn’t hear her.
“Uncle says it is time to go, Sophie,” Simone sighed heavily, as if being the messenger was below her. “He has the carriages ready for us, he wanted you to ride in the carriage with him, but I think you should ride with Alexandra and Amelia while Charlotte will ride with Uncle Robert and me.”
“I think you should take your…” Pamela started, her face fiery red.
Sophie gave her a look that would quiet her emotional maid.
“That is fine. I shall ride with the twins. I will be more than content with their happy company.”
With their expansive gowns, they would be cramped into their father’s smaller second carriage, but she would weather through it just so she wouldn’t have to ride with Simone, the little wretch—she always felt so sorry for Charlotte, for only Charlotte had the emotional aptitude and countenance to deal with Simone.
Unfortunately, every single emotion showed plainly on Sophie’s face, and the twins were well known for relying on their magic to deal with Simone whenever she annoyed them greatly.
Amelia was the usual offender, although Alexandra had used her magic on Simone at least once to Sophie’s knowledge.
Once when Simone was being especially mean and overbearing, Amelia had transformed her into a parrot. Her father always believed it had been a harmless accident, but everyone else knew Amelia had no accidents when it came to her spells, and had done it because Simone called Alexandra utterly stupid and insufferable. One did not insult the shy and timid Alexandra without risking Amelia’s terrible wrath.
The enchanting twins were as different as night and day, but no twins could be closer, they even shared a psychic bond that no one in the family could quite understand, save for Sophie. They would walk through fire for each other, and protect each other against any affront, even if that affront happened to be the very annoying Simone.
Sometimes when Sophie witnessed how close they were with each other, she had to get away from them, for it reminded her too keenly of what she had lost when Sylvie had perished. For their own part, Amelia and Alexandra understood Sophie’s pain better than anyone else in the family could possibly know it.
“Splendid. I will go and tell Uncle.” Simone swept out of the room, her two-piece ball gown made of heavy ivory satin with appliques of cream wool challis day lilies decorated with gold beads and sequins, rustling as she walked. The ruby necklace and earrings she wore added to the visual spectacle she created.
“I don’t like that one. She always gets her way with your father by making herself the most important one out of all of his daughters, and she is not even his daughter. Why don’t you wear your emeralds that would put her prissy little nose right out of joint.”
Sophie sighed. “It is her syrupy sweet ingratiating manner and Papa falls for it hook line and sinker. Sometimes, I just wish Papa would see through her façade. She is wrong though. This gown is made by Isabella Fairchild, from the Enchanted Design House of Fairchild. I could just wish for a different look, and it would change to suit my needs, watch this,” she said, as she wished for it to be a beautiful crimson red.
“Oh, my lady, keep that look. It is lovely.”
“Perhaps another time,” she said, smiling as the gown reverted back to the mourning black. “As for wearing my emeralds, I couldn’t bear it, Pamela. They remind me too much of dear Sylvie. She so loved green, and emeralds were her favourite jewel.”
Pamela was right. Simone did put on way too many airs. In spite of this, Simone was her father’s ward. A distant cousin of theirs, and therefore entitled to live the kind of life the rest of his children lived. The gossipmongers continually bandied about disgusting rumors concerning Simone’s exact origins of birth.
Many believed Simone was the love child borne of a union between her father and an unknown woman he had been smitten with before he’d finally found his true love—Sophie’s mother.
Sophie knew her parents were finding it hard to pay for the many extravagant items needed for the Season and for that reason alone, they attended more social events during the Little Season, as they just could not afford the Season.
This ball was one of the exceptions, and so everyone had to take advantage of it since they had probably only attend one more grand ball before the Season came to an end in early July which her mother was determined to attend, as it was Sophie’s Godmother, the Duchess of Devonshire that was throwing the Diamond Jubilee Fancy Dress Ball in honour of Queen Victoria and everyone that mattered in society was set to attend, even Their Royal Highnesses the Prince and Princess of Wales and the Duke and Duchess of York, along with many other notable Royals were rumored to be amongst the guests!
“How will I survive the next few hours?” she asked breathlessly.
“If you must, pretend you are somewhere else that is what I do whenever I have an annoying chore that needs doing.”
Reaching for her fan, Sophie fastened it around her wrist, so it wo
uld hang around her wrist, in case she forgot she carried it. With one last feebly resigned sigh, she walked out of her bedchamber.
“Sophie, you aren’t really going to go out and play with the other ghosts of Mayfair without me, are you?” Seraphina asked playfully, as she materialized at the top of the staircase.
Seraphina was just one of the many ghosts that haunted Rayne House and never failed to be a nuisance of the highest class.
“Not now, Seraphina. I have to deal with Simone tonight. I don’t need your antics as well.”
“Well, of course you do. If you have to put up with that tiresome little by-blow, you will definitely need me. Who else shall protect you from her poisonous attitude? Need I remind you that I am your faithful companion, your trusted confidante, your much-maligned dragon slayer…”
Sophie sighed heavily, resisting the urge to let out a chuckle. Seraphina could be extremely annoying at times when she used her paranormal talents to disrupt Sophie’s existence but when she was working to help her, Sophie couldn’t ask for a better friend.
“Seraphina, I implore you to stay here, please?” she added on, hoping to persuade Seraphina to finally do something that would help her and not hinder her. “Charlotte will keep an eye on Simone and make sure she doesn’t cause a scene with me, so you needn’t worry.”
“I will stay here for as long as I see fit. If I think you require my assistance nothing in your world or mine could keep me away,” Seraphina declared, narrowing her eyes at her. “It looks as if you should get a move on darling, or Cinderella is going to miss her carriage.”
She smiled widely at Seraphina, and raced down the steps to the open door where her sisters were getting ready to step out into the night air.
Moonlight and magic beckoned to them all. Without hesitation, Sophie stepped out into the cool summer evening with excitement in her heart.
Her enthusiasm considerably diminished as soon as she stepped foot into Lady Huntingdon’s house, and they were announced and received.
Ghostly spirits whispered around her, their mingling voices echoing around her. Combined with the laughter and voices of the living, she felt as she if she needed to clap her hands over her ears.
The dead were closing in on her. They all wanted her to help them, and she just couldn’t—not at a public event like this.
She had to block them out. She had to keep them at bay all costs. She tried to stay close to Alexandra and Amelia, but they saw a group of girls they knew and left her alone to set up their own makeshift court. For once, she almost wished that Seraphina had accompanied her.
Poor Charlotte was stuck with Simone. Simone grandly swept her into the ballroom with their elbows locked, as if they were the closest two cousins could be, when Charlotte only stayed close to Simone to keep her away from Sophie.
Simone found Sophie to be her competition in everything from horseback riding to finding a suitable husband. She never failed to do things that would cause Sophie embarrassment, and always fed the fire whenever she was caught in a compromising position with a spirit.
Charlotte told her Simone was insanely jealous of Sophie both for her beauty and for her natural talent in the magical arts. Come what may, Sophie had to keep her mind off Simone, and focus on the twins instead.
She had to keep her eyes on her double trouble sisters, as this was their first year out into society. They looked so beautiful in their pastel coloured ball gowns and yet underneath that beauty, bubbled one highly excitable girl with magic literally at her fingertips, while the other was a shrinking violet, and looked as if she wanted to use her magic to fade into the wallpaper.
Had Amelia not been holding Alexandra’s hand so tightly, Sophie feared that Alexandra would have easily faded into the background.
Amelia’s tongue was already wagging. Her bubbly and chatty personality livened up the room. Alexandra stood quietly by smiling painfully. She endured all sorts of social torture for the sake of Amelia.
Amelia was as loud as Alexandra was quiet. In fact, Amelia usually spoke for Alexandra, a habit her mother had continually attempted to break. Alexandra wore a soft shade of pink while Amelia had opted for her favorite colour, yellow.
She should push her way through the throng of people and stick with her sisters as her father had disappeared. He was probably hobnobbing with the other lords in the gentlemen’s parlour or smoking room.
She knew he would be useless as a chaperone. Of course, if anyone did anything untoward when it came to his precious daughters, they would rue their actions more so than if he had been just any other lord.
A large imposing man with a bluish ghostly hue that made him shine as if a thousand lights were centered on him caught her attention. He stepped right in front of her, and disoriented her so much that she slammed into a well-dressed lord who had his back to her.
“What the ruddy hell is going on here?” the lord demanded, turning to confront her. Her heart raced, she knew this man, and he was trouble. More so, now she was in trouble, dash it all! She had to get away from him as quickly as possible. Without further delay, she made a hasty apology, and faded back into the crowd.
“I beg your pardon, my lord,” she murmured, trying to slip past another lord and his wife who she knew as well. Blast and damn, nothing was going her way tonight!
“Lady Sophie!” Lady Montagu greeted her cheerfully, with her eyes dancing merrily. Lady Montagu was one of those rare women who were always in jolly spirits no matter the situation or occasion. She suspected that the woman would even be happy at a funeral.
The damnable spirit still hadn’t disappeared. Instead, he stood steadfastly at her elbow, with a severe expression on his face that sent a chill up her spine. The lord she had bumped into hadn’t taken his leave either, he looked as if he was ready to have a row with her despite the fact that she had apologized.
What more could he possibly want from her?
The answer to that question haunted her more than the spirit who clung to her like a second skin.
Lord Rupert Percy-Lennox, 9th Marquess of Redding wanted her for reasons that she could not tolerate. She had to get away from him as quickly as possible, to avoid a scandal, and a potential confrontation between him and her father.
“Lady Montagu, how wonderful it is to see you again. I know my mother will dreadfully bemoan the fact that she missed out on seeing you,” she said breathlessly, her eyes darting to glance nervously at the annoyed spirit.
The spirit looked as if he had died fairly recently as he glowed rather brightly. Not to mention the fact that Lady Huntingdon had only recently come out of mourning for her father-in-law, and that fact troubled her greatly.
He did resemble the previous Lord Huntingdon, but then, she had only seen him a scant handful of times, and had never directly spoken to him.
“I had hoped to see her as well. I suppose I shall have to call on her while we are in Town.”
Despite the happy glint in Lady Montagu’s eyes, she could sense that Lady Montagu hesitated at the thought of visiting their residence in London. Rumours continually circulated through the ton concerning the fact that their townhouse was haunted and home of some rather strange supernatural occurrences.
This put off most of their social set, and they usually didn’t have to worry about receiving too many visitors during calling hours.
“Get rid of the bubbly Lady Montagu and follow me to the Library, Lady Sophie, posthaste,” Lord Huntingdon instructed, like a stiff soldier at her side.
Nothing would sway him from his task at hand. He would have her doing his bidding before she could say ‘ghost.’
“She would love that,” Sophie murmured, attempting to ignore him. Why couldn’t he just disappear?
“Have you met, Lord Redding, Sophie, dear?” Lady Montagu asked, gesturing to the dreadfully handsome man she had bumped into.
“We have been introduced. He paid my family a visit when we were in residence at Castle Rayne, just this past April. I have found tha
t he lives up to his rumored reputation.”
Lady Montagu’s hazel eyes sparkled with mirth, “Yes, dear, his wicked reputation does precede him. Lord Redding, why don’t you fill Sophie’s dance card with your name? The two of you would make a lovely couple out on the dance floor.”
How could Sophie call an end to this dreadful persiflage without looking like a rude little chit?
Right now escaping this horrible social intercourse one would be a blessing, even if she had to endure another ghost and his inability to let go of his life in the physical world. So many clung to what they could no longer have—and some couldn’t come to grips with the fact that they were dead.
“I am sorry, Lady Montagu, but I am not here to dance, so I’m certainly not looking to fill my dance card. I am merely here to keep an ever watchful eye on the double trouble twins,” she explained, trying tirelessly to navigate her way out of this sticky predicament.
She was tempted to call them the terrible twosome, instead of double trouble, but Alexandra was really too sweet to earn that sort of a nickname, it was Amelia she had to worry about. She just prayed that Amelia didn’t turn anyone into any kind of animal with wings this night.
“The bewitching twins will be fine. I shall keep an eye on them, and they can depend on the many widows and spinsters that Lady Huntingdon invited. I daresay they won’t let any young buck wander too far away with a young innocent miss. They shall be on guard, you can be quite certain of that!
“They have eagle eyes, you know, and nothing better to do, why they live to breathe down courting couples necks,” she laughed. “The world belongs to your enchanting sisters right now. Do let them enjoy their night at this brilliantly gay ball! Everyone deserves to have a bit of fun now and then!”
Sophie bit her lip. She was never going to get away from Lady Montagu. She needed a distraction so she could slip away unnoticed by Redding and finally attend to Lord Huntingdon’s concerns, before he had a monumental supernatural temper tantrum and caused her more embarrassment than she had already suffered at the hands of the dead.
The Haunting of Lady Sophie Page 2
