Ghost Girl

by C. J. Archer

  "What shall we tell the servants?" Emily asked.

  "We can do what we did at Frakingham," Sylvia suggested. "We set up Quin in a guest bedroom. After the servants retired, he and Tommy crept into our room and slept on truckles on the other side of the screen. It was all very discreet and completely respectable. Well, as respectable as the situation allowed."

  "Let me assure you, the ladies were quite safe," Tommy said.

  Emily gave him a smile of thanks, but I wasn't sure Jacob was convinced. He had not taken his eyes off Quin, and Quin glared right back at him. They reminded me of lions. I'd attended a lecture by a hunter who'd studied them in the wilds of Africa. Prides were protected by one strong, alpha male who fended off attack from other males that tried to take over the coveted leadership position. I half expected Quin and Jacob to enter into battle at any moment.

  "We'll employ the same technique tonight," Emily said. "You must switch back again before the servants are up in the morning. And we must find you something more appropriate to wear, Quin."

  "A suit is on its way," I said. "There was no time to have it made before we left, but Mr. Irwin assured us it would be ready and sent here by tomorrow or the next day at the latest."

  The entry of a footman carrying tea and cakes broke the tension. We waited until he left before speaking again.

  "How will you find this book?" Emily asked. "Do you have any ideas as to its whereabouts?"

  "We need to speak with George Culvert," I said.

  "I'll invite he and Adelaide to dine with us tonight. What about Charity and Samuel?"

  "Oh, yes please," Sylvia said. "I would love to ask how they're settling into their new lives in London again. I do miss Charity."

  Emily rang for the butler and instructed him to invite the Culverts, and Samuel and Charity, for dinner. Once he was gone, she asked Sylvia about Jack and Hannah.

  "They'll be back very soon," she said. "Indeed, I've decided to throw a ball in their honor upon their return."

  "You have?" I asked. "At Frakingham?"

  "Yes."

  "Oh." Tommy spoke so quietly that Sylvia didn't hear him. Or if she did, she chose to ignore it. He sounded unsure, but whether that was because, like me, he assumed no one would attend an event at Freak House, or because he disliked the idea of Sylvia associating with gentlemen of her own class, it was impossible to say.

  "Marvelous," Emily said. "If you would like to discuss the guest list, I will see that the invitations are delivered." Which meant she would personally mention to each and every guest that she would be in attendance. Emily had considerable influence among a certain set, and whatever she did, others would follow.

  The remainder of the afternoon dragged. I was acutely aware of Jacob and Quin continuing to glare at one another. Emily's name-dropping didn't help either. She'd already decided I had to meet three single gentlemen of her acquaintance, and Sylvia had agreed to invite them to the ball. Emily went on to describe them and I became increasingly bored. How could any man sound interesting while I sat beside Quin?

  As much as I disagreed with his attitude toward women and education, I liked him on the whole. He was handsome and interesting, although it could be that he was made more interesting because he was such a mystery. Jacob seemed intent on uncovering as much as he could about him, which only ratcheted up the tension even more as Quin refused to answer.

  "Why will you not tell us where you came from?" Jacob pressed.

  "I have told you," Quin bit off. "I'm from a realm in between."

  "What is it called?"

  Quin said nothing.

  "Who lives there?"

  "I do."

  "Who else?"

  "Other warriors."

  That was new. "There is more than one of you?" I asked.

  His only response was to turn his flinty glare onto me.

  "Anything else you can tell me about the place?" Jacob asked. "What does it look like? How many souls live there, for instance?"

  Nothing.

  "You say you were born here, as a human."

  "Aye."

  "So how did you get to be in this other realm as a warrior?"

  "That is my affair."

  "I think not." Jacob's tone was deceptively lazy, but no one in that room was deceived. "It is now my affair, and Emily's."

  Again, Quin remained silent. It seemed to be his way of shutting down conversations. Only it wouldn't work with Jacob, just as it hadn't worked particularly well with me. We were both too curious to accept silence as an answer.

  "Jacob," I warned. "Quin doesn't like talking about himself. He's much too modest."

  He huffed out a humorless laugh. "Modesty be damned."

  "Jacob!" Emily placed her hand over his rigid one. "I think we should heed Cara. If Quin doesn't want to talk about his home, we shouldn't force him."

  "I'm not forcing him. Tell me how you came to be in this other realm, St. Clair." Jacob waited, but Quin gave no answer. Jacob blew out an exasperated breath and I half expected steam to rise from his ears in anger.

  "Goodness, look at the time." Sylvia leapt up and pointed to the clock on the mantel. The distraction was a welcome relief. Only Jacob sat silently fuming. I had no doubt that Emily would speak to him after we were gone and calm him down. He always seemed to listen to her. "We must prepare for dinner. Come, Cara, Quin. Don't worry," she said to Emily and Jacob as they rose too, "we'll be sure the servants are scarce when we squirrel him into our bedroom. We're quite used to trickery now."

  "There are more servants here," I reminded her.

  "Frakingham will be acquiring others shortly," she assured me, completely misunderstanding my concern. "By the time of the ball, we shall have dozens."

  We filed out of the room, but Emily took my hand as the others passed me. She waited until Quin was out of earshot before whispering, "Follow my lead at dinner. We shall smoke him out in less obvious ways."

  I gawped at her and she gave me a wicked smile. I'd been mistaken. It wasn't Jacob I had to worry about. Emily was far more devious than her husband.

  CHAPTER 5

  "Fascinating creature," George Culvert muttered to nobody in particular. He sat opposite me at the long dining table and had not taken his eyes off Quin since meeting him. Nor had his wife, Adelaide, but instead of curiosity, her usually friendly gaze was filled with wariness. She did not trust the supernatural as easily as her husband. Then again, he had studied it his entire life and inherited his father's extensive demonology library too.

  I quickly explained what Quin was doing in a state of dishabille and why. That had only increased George's interest and Adelaide's shock.

  Charity and Samuel were a little more polite and didn't stare at Quin quite so much, but it was obvious from the moment they walked in that they were curious. Neither showed any concern, however. They knew what good the warrior had done in the past, dispensing with the demons. Like me, they trusted that he wouldn't harm humans.

  "Is he tame?" I heard Adelaide whisper to Sylvia as they sat.

  "Oh yes," Sylvia assured her. "So far, anyway."

  I wanted to remind her that he was not a dog, but Quin would have heard. Indeed, he would have heard everything they said too. I felt awfully embarrassed and I hoped my glare at Sylvia would convey as much.

  George continued to stare as Tommy served the first course. Since our conversations would require privacy, he had proposed that he serve us. Emily and Jacob had both protested, but Sylvia and Tommy insisted that it was necessary. I wasn't so sure that it was a good idea either. For one thing, it would put out the Beaufort servants, and for another, Emily wanted to treat him as a guest and not a footman. Then again, it would allow him to be present for our conversation when he felt too awkward to dine with us as a guest.

  "You say your origins are human," George said to Quin before the first course was even served. I silently bit my lip and appealed to Emily. She merely shrugged.

  "Aye," Quin said.

  "But you've bee
n gone for a very long time. You were last in this realm during the time of Henry VIII. Is that right?"

  Quin watched Tommy ladle soup from the tureen into the bowls. He looked ravenous and not at all interested in answering George.

  "Are you dead?"

  Quin's gaze flickered briefly to George then back to Tommy. He waited until we each had a bowl and Jacob picked up his spoon. As soon as the head of the household tucked in, so did Quin.

  George watched him with fascination and seemed to forget about his soup entirely. The others were a little more circumspect but they too seemed intrigued by everything the warrior did. He must feel like an exhibit in a freak show.

  "I see you need sustenance," George noted.

  "Aye."

  "Is that the case in your realm too?"

  "No."

  "Really? Interesting. Why not, do you think?"

  Quin concentrated on his soup.

  But George would not give up. "Tell me about your realm."

  "It is in between," Quin said.

  "In between? What does that mean?"

  Again, Quin remained silent.

  George's brow slowly scrunched into a frown. "In between," he finally muttered. "Humph." He arched an eyebrow at me. "Do you know anything else about him, Cara?"

  "He is as unresponsive to my questions as he is to yours, I'm afraid." I shot him a wan smile. "He doesn't like talking about himself."

  George pushed his glasses up his nose. "Yes, but I thought perhaps you might have learned something about him from the spirit world. You have put questions to one or two ghosts, haven't you?"

  It hadn't occurred to me to do so. I glanced at Quin. He stared back at me, his gaze searching my face as if trying to read my mind. I shook my head, but I wasn't sure who I was responding to.

  "You ought not ask him too many questions," Emily said.

  "It is rather impertinent," Adelaide told her husband.

  "Yet necessary," Jacob added.

  Samuel nodded. "Agreed. If only I could—"

  Charity gasped. "Don't."

  He held up his hands. "I wouldn't! You know I don't do that against anyone's wishes anymore."

  "Unless absolutely necessary."

  His eyes brightened. "So you agree that this is necessary?"

  "No!"

  It was obvious to all of us, except perhaps Quin, that they were discussing Samuel hypnotizing our guest. Charity, for reasons of her own, had an aversion to her fiancé using his power on the unsuspecting. Samuel bowed to her better judgment, thank goodness. No matter how much I wanted to know Quin's secrets, I didn't want to use hypnosis on him.

  George seemed to have given up his interrogation. He concentrated on stirring his soup in thoughtful silence.

  "My apologies, Mr. St. Clair," Adelaide said. "My husband is terribly curious about the supernatural. By not answering his questions, you only increase his curiosity. He's very clever and does love a challenge."

  George seemed to swell beneath his wife's fond gaze. He was still as much in awe of her as he ever had been. I had to admit they were an odd pairing. He was studious while she was the beauty, but both were shy in their own way. I supposed it was that characteristic which connected them.

  "Then let's engage his curiosity in another way," I said. "George, can you look through your library for any references to a book of spells?"

  "It would be my pleasure."

  "We wrote a copy of the torn out page and brought that," Sylvia said. She beckoned Tommy and he pulled a piece of paper from his pocket and handed it to her. She gave it to George and he inspected the spells. "Don't speak them aloud. One opens the portal."

  "The spell will not work from here," Quin assured her.

  "I'll see what I can find," George said, handing it back.

  "Keep it," Tommy said. "We made that copy for you." The original was hidden away in Sylvia's luggage. We'd brought it with us in case it was needed for comparison.

  George tucked the copy into the inside pocket of his jacket. "Excellent. I needed a new project. Things have been far too quiet around here."

  "Thank goodness," Adelaide muttered.

  "George is a scholar of demonology," Emily told Quin. "He reads accounts about them in his books. He has a lot of books. Some of them are very old, written by early scholars. What is that phrase? 'If I have seen farther it is by standing on the shoulders of giants.'"

  Quin blinked rapidly at her. "You know Bernard of Chartres' work?"

  "Oh? Is that his expression?" Emily asked innocently. Too innocently. She was up to something. Jacob knew it too. He was smirking. "I thought it belonged to Isaac Newton."

  "Newton is quoting Bernard of Chartres, the philosopher," George said, oblivious to Emily's manipulations. "Newton's version has become more widely known."

  "Yes, of course." Emily smiled at Quin. He stared back at her as if she'd grown two heads.

  "I am not the only educated female in this family," I told him.

  His surprised expression turned to a scowl. "So I see."

  "And her husband doesn't object, do you, Jacob?"

  Jacob shook his head, still smirking. "If you wish to get along in our time, St. Clair, you will have to get used to clever women. Otherwise you run the risk of becoming their victim."

  Emily rolled her eyes. "I am not nearly as clever as Cara. She would go to university if they allowed women."

  "She can attend lectures," George said.

  "The University College here in London would admit her," Samuel added. "There were several female scholars when I studied there. It's quite a progressive institution."

  "All this talk of philosophy and education has made me hungry," Sylvia chimed in. "Tommy, is it time for the next course?"

  As we ate the roasted meats, vegetables and lobster salad, the discussion switched to Myer. "I'm afraid we need to visit him," I announced. "As much as we don't wish to, he's just too knowledgeable to ignore."

  "He did leave Frakingham on a sour note," Charity said. "Is it absolutely necessary to involve him now?"

  Langley had banned Myer from visiting the estate and ruins again after it was discovered he had lied about knowing how his former colleagues, Garrett and Owens, died. His single-minded pursuit of the book of spells had led him to become unpredictable and deceitful. He simply couldn't be trusted at the site or with the page in our possession. He was not even aware that we had it.

  "I'm afraid so," I told her. "The Society for Supernatural Activity's library must be even more extensive than George's."

  "It is," he said with a note of envy. "I've seen it, though not recently. Not while this Myer has been the master of the society. Do you plan on telling him what you're looking for?"

  "I don't see that we have a choice."

  "You can't tell him." Samuel looked appalled, Charity too. "He cannot be trusted. Sylvia, have you told Cara what we know about Myer's connection to Percy Harrington's ghost?"

  "Who is Percy Harrington?" I asked.

  "The master," Sylvia said. She did not look at Charity when she said it, but Charity flinched as if she had.

  Samuel covered his fiancée's hand with his own. She gave him a small smile of reassurance. I felt a little nauseous, as I did every time I thought about the master and what he'd done to her. Charity had been kept prisoner by the master when he was alive, and pursued by his spirit after his death. It was uplifting to see her so happy now, with Samuel, in true defiance of her traumatic past. Her strength of character never ceased to amaze me.

  "We haven't had a chance to tell you, Cara," Sylvia said. "While you were ill at Frakingham, Emily wrote to tell us she'd learned the master's name from the spirit himself."

  "Harrington," I said, frowning. "The name sounds familiar."

  "Percy Harrington inherited his father's entire fortune, one half of Hatfield and Harrington."

  "The bank?"

  Samuel nodded and took up the story. "Percy Harrington died without children, so his fortune went to his father's b
usiness partner's only child. It was an agreement struck up between the original Hatfield and Harrington years ago, apparently. Her name was Edith Hatfield, now Edith Myer, Everett Myer's wife."

  "Good lord." George was so riveted to the tale that he forgot to push his glasses back up his nose. They perched on the end, dangerously close to slipping off. "The Myers must be extraordinarily rich if she was the sole beneficiary of both fortunes."

  "They are. Myer continues to have the largest share of the bank too, giving him a lot of control."

  "Harrington's spirit told you this, Emily?" George asked.

  She nodded. "He haunted his place of death until his spirit was summoned into the body of another gentleman, a banker for a rival company, Clement and Co."

  Adelaide shuddered. "Possession," she murmured, setting down her knife and fork as if she'd lost her appetite.

  "While possessing the body of Mr. Clement, he made some poor business decisions which has put Clement and Co. on the brink of financial ruin. He also did other despicable things while possessing Clement's body," Samuel added without going into detail.

  "How did Harrington's spirit take over Clement?" George looked to me then Emily. "That requires a medium's help, and you two are the only ones in the city."

  "The only ones we know about," Jacob said. "There must be another."

  Adelaide gasped. "You must find her and warn her of the dangers of possession!"

  "I asked Percy Harrington's spirit who it was, but he wouldn't tell me," Emily said. "She did eventually convince him that it was time to cross-over, so we have that to be thankful for. He wouldn't listen to me. He finally left this realm just over a week ago."

  "So you see," Samuel said, "Myer seems to be involved at every turn. I think it suspicious that his wife's fortune—and therefore his own—was increased after the death of a man whose spirit went on to possess a rival. He cannot be trusted."

  "Harrington's ghost didn't say anything about Myer?" I asked Emily.