by Linda Fallon
Something besides those frightened ghosts lurked here as well. He felt rather than saw it. Something dark was hiding in this hotel, just as the timid spirits hid. He’d seen a lot in his lifetime, enough to know he didn’t much like this hotel. A shiver of warning traveled up his spine. No, this would not be a fitting place for a Plummervile Ghost Society outing. But it was interesting, and nothing he couldn’t handle.
He’d thoroughly study the hotel tonight, and then early tomorrow he’d head back to Plummerville. He never should’ve left, he knew that. But the plans for the wedding and Eve’s relatives had pushed him to the limit. Why couldn’t they simply be married by the local justice of the peace and be done with it?
Eve wanted more, and so she would have more.
Lucien lifted the candelabra high and turned to illuminate and scan the entire room. He’d have to bring her with him, next time he came here. He would speak with the ghosts and she would take notes. Together they would discover why the spirits were trapped and then they would send the unhappy shades home.
Just thinking about Eve calmed him, down deep. She was more than the woman he wanted as his wife, she was his partner. His lover. His friend. It was miraculous, to find such a woman. All his life he’d been alone. All his life he’d been peculiar, as Eve’s unpleasant uncle said. With Eve … he was different. He was better. She had changed his sorry existence, just by loving him and letting him love her in return.
At the sound of footsteps above, Lucien lifted his head. The walls creaked, the flames of his candles flickered.
Oh, if only he had his specter-o-meter!
Morning came, and Lucien was still absent. Morning turned to afternoon, and Eve had left her family behind to speak to the people in town. It was embarrassing, to be searching for her groom the day before the wedding.
She’d run into Daisy and Garrick at the general store. The two were close friends, and Garrick had asked Daisy to marry him more than once. She always turned him down. On the outside, they made the perfect couple. Both fair-haired and both pretty, both longtime residents of Plummerville—and members of the Ghost Society—they made a striking couple. But Daisy swore she didn’t love Garrick, and in truth Eve didn’t think he loved her either. He asked Daisy to marry him on occasion because marriage to her would be easy. A lifetime with a friend as your spouse could be a good thing. Daisy wanted more.
Daisy was alarmed to hear that Lucien was missing. Garrick was not surprised at all.
Eve faced Garrick with hands on hips as she shouted, “You sent him where?”
“I didn’t actually send him,” Garrick said defensively, as the three of them stepped out of the store and onto the shaded walk, the eyes of curious shoppers following their progress. “I merely mentioned that he might be interested in the old Honeycutt Hotel.”
“Where is this old hotel?” Eve seethed.
“A few hours away, somewhere off the road to Atlanta.”
“A few hours?” Daisy said breathlessly. She gathered her emerald green cloak close, against the wind. “Goodness, he should be back by now. Shouldn’t he?”
“Somewhere off the road to Atlanta,” Eve repeated slowly. “How do you expect Lucien might have found the place with those inadequate instructions!”
“I guess he stopped to ask for directions along the way,” Garrick said sheepishly.
At least she knew where he was. She didn’t like it, but an old haunted hotel certainly explained Lucien’s absence.
“We can go after him,” Garrick suggested. “Buster and I, we’ll go.”
“No,” Eve said. She was still angry with Garrick, but in truth this was all Lucien’s fault. He couldn’t resist checking the place out, not even for a few days! “You’d probably just miss each other on the road, and when he got here he’d go back after you, and then … and then …” and then they would never get married. “He’ll be here,” she said confidently. “If the hotel is at all interesting, he won’t come back until the last possible minute, but he will be here.”
She had been hoping Lucien would arrive by tonight, so he could meet Hugh and Lionel at the train station. But as long as he was here tomorrow … that was all she asked.
The perfect wedding required a groom.
Lucien sauntered down the stairs into the lobby, his candelabra held before him to light his way. The Honeycutt Hotel was a fascinating place. It wasn’t at all safe for the ladies of the Plummerville Ghost Society, but it was fascinating. After the wedding, he’d come back for a brief visit. A daytime visit. He’d bring his equipment and document what he’d found here.
After the wedding. He loved Eve with all his heart, but he dreaded the wedding itself. He hadn’t told her so, of course. She had her heart set on something specific and special, and so she should have it.
Lucien didn’t normally care for preachers, but the Reverend Watts was a decent sort of fellow. The widower Watts was new to Plummerville, had arrived to lead the flock of the Methodist church just two weeks before Christmas. Eve liked him, and that was all that mattered. Lucien hated the idea of getting dressed in his best suit and taking his vows in front of everyone he knew and some he didn’t, but for Eve, he would happily make a fool of himself.
Eve amazed him, every day. She was beautiful, not only on the outside but down deep. In her heart. In her very soul, she was a good person. And she was his. To protect. To love. To care for forever.
He’d almost ruined everything, but all was well, now. They had forever ahead of them. One day to give Eve the wedding she wanted wasn’t too much to ask.
Was it getting warm in here? Lucien placed the candelabra on the front desk, where he had found it. The flames flickered gently. His overcoat had been thrown over the sofa a while back, and now he removed his suit jacket, as well. Still, he was overly warm. It was cold outside, and he hadn’t yet built a fire in the fireplace. Why was it so hot in here?
The ghosts that had been bits of light began to take shape, as they often did. He forgot the heat and watched, unalarmed, as they took form and stood before him. Men, women, even a child. They all wore the tragic expressions of those whose lives remained unfinished.
“You’re all dead,” he said in a calm voice. “It’s time to move on. You’ll be happier when you do, I promise you that.” What held them all here? Most spirits willingly and easily went to the other side after death. Trauma or emotional pain held some here. Those were the spirits he helped on their way.
Moving as one, the ghosts came toward him. Such sad faces. Such deep unhappiness. A pale figure of a woman reached out to him with one hand. A child opened his mouth as if to speak. And then all at once they disappeared, fading into nothing.
Lucien sighed. Well, it wasn’t usually so easy. Telling the trapped spirits to go sometimes worked, but there was something else at work here. After the wedding, he’d return and see what was necessary to send the souls on. He didn’t think Eve should come here, though. Something about this place was wrong. He’d see about persuading Lionel and Hugh to stay on after the wedding. They could offer assistance, he was certain.
Eve. Heaven above, he missed her. He didn’t want to be in this blasted hotel alone! He wanted to be with her. In her bed. In their bed. Being away from her was painful in a way he had not expected.
Since all had been quiet for a few moments, Lucien was not prepared for the restless spirit to enter his body without invitation. It was like a blow to the chest, a knife to the heart. He fell to his knees when a second spirit jumped inside him, then another, then another. He tried to push them out, but they were prepared to resist him. And he couldn’t fight them all. They came at once, a flood of angry spirits that had been trapped here for too long. They all wanted to speak to him, through him. And they all wanted to talk at once.
Voices not his own came out of his mouth, his head was filled with pain and rage and horror and a deluge of tormenting memories. It was too much for one mind to manage, but he did try.
“Get out,” he managed to
say in his own voice.
But it was too late. He couldn’t control this many spirits, and since channeling one spirit always tired him, having an endless number forcing their energy inside him very quickly drained him of all strength.
There was death here. Death and pain and fear. And something evil lurked behind it all.
All strength gone, he dropped to the floor, his hot forehead resting against cold wood. “Evie,” he whispered once.
*
Tea would calm her, Eve thought as she puttered maniacally through the kitchen. It was a nice thought, but she didn’t believe it. Nothing would calm her. Nothing but seeing Lucien walk through her door.
Garrick had promised to meet Hugh and Lionel at the train station and see them settled into the boarding house. She had wanted to be there herself, but there were so many things to be done before tomorrow! Besides, Aunt Constance had insisted that it wasn’t proper for her to greet men at the train station. It simply wasn’t done, according to the older woman.
As Eve spooned too much sugar into her tea, Aunt Constance slipped into the kitchen. “Here you are, Eve,” she said softly.
Oh, no. Eve had an idea she knew what was coming. “I’m off to bed in just a few minutes.”
“A few minutes is all I need.” Aunt Constance grasped her hands together and lifted her chin. “Since your mother is gone, it’s my duty to prepare you for marriage.”
“That’s very kind of you, but …”
“No, don’t thank me,” Aunt Constance said. “For the sake of my dear, dear sister, I must.” The expression on her face told, too clearly, that she’d rather not.
“Yes, but …”
“A woman has many duties,” Aunt Constance said, her eyes on the back door. Was she wishing for escape? Or merely avoiding making eye contact with her niece? “You must keep a man well fed, and keep his clothing in good repair, and keep the house nice and clean so he’ll have a pleasant place to come home to at the end of a long day. You must smile when he tells you tedious stories about his work, because no matter how boring it might be, he considers it to be important.”
Eve sighed and sipped at her tea. Not the talk she had prepared herself for, thank goodness.
“Men can be very selfish, and we women must endure such foolishness in the name of keeping a happy home. They are beasts, and it is our job to tame them without allowing them to know they have been domesticated.”
“Thank you for that advice,” Eve said, relieved.
Aunt Constance took a deep breath. Oh, dear. She wasn’t finished. “A wife’s duties in the bedroom are more arduous. A man cannot be completely tamed, you see, and in some ways a wife must simply surrender.” She sighed. “They have … A man isn’t like … A husband will expect … It’s very private and … and …”
“Perhaps it is a husband’s place to explain these particular duties,” Eve said, saving her aunt from the sudden loss of words. She’d never known Constance not to complete a sentence! “Since it is private.”
Aunt Constance’s chin came up. “Why, I believe you’re right, Eve.” She smiled. “It is most certainly a husband’s duty to explain such personal matters.” She leaned closer and lowered her voice. “Just don’t be disappointed,” she whispered.
“Disappointed?” Eve swallowed a smile.
Aunt Constance nodded. “Disappointed,” she whispered.
Eve sipped her tea and hid the tiny smile she could not contain. Lucien had never disappointed her when it came to intimate matters. He had taken her by surprise. He had shocked her. He had taught her more about love and pleasure than she had known was possible.
If Lucien wasn’t here on time tomorrow, she was going to be more than disappointed. She would be crushed. Leaving her at the altar for a second time, once again forgetting her in favor of a ghost … that would be unforgivable.
Three
Eve sneaked a peek from the rear of the church, studying the backs of the heads of those who filled the pews. She saw elaborate hairstyles, more elaborate hats, and fresh, crisp haircuts for a few of the men in attendance. Whispers filled the resonant church, guests leaned toward one another as they spoke in low tones. Some of them probably wondered why the ceremony had not yet begun. Others knew that Lucien had not returned from his blasted excursion.
Everyone was here, on this cold, wintry day. The small church was packed. Just about everyone in Plummerville was in attendance, as well as a number of visitors from out of town.
Aunt Constance, in a horridly ornate hat decorated with oversized silk flowers, and Uncle Harold sat in the front pew on the bride’s side. Millicent and Penelope, dressed in slightly different shades of rose, sat silently between them.
The members of the Plummerville Ghost Society who were not a part of the wedding party sat together. Garrick and Katherine and Buster. Garrick was finely dressed for the occasion, but then he usually was the best-dressed man in town. Buster wore what was surely his best suit. Even though he was twenty-five years old he was obviously outgrowing his suit. Katherine wore her usual widow’s black, though it was a nicer gown than usual for this occasion. She was covered in black from her chin to her boots. Daisy, who waited in the anteroom where she and Eve had changed into their dresses, was the sixth member of the group and Eve’s maid of honor.
Many people had traveled a long way to see her and Lucien get married. Hugh Felder was here, along with Lionel Brandon and O’Hara. O’Hara hadn’t been invited to the wedding, Eve thought with a wrinkling of her nose. Apparently Hugh and Lionel had asked him to accompany them, thinking his invitation must’ve been lost in the mail. Or else he had invited himself. O’Hara wasn’t known for his fine manners. They’d arrived on yesterday’s late afternoon train, and none of them had been surprised to hear of Lucien’s whereabouts.
The three men all had abilities much like Lucien’s, though the gifts they shared manifested themselves in different ways. They were a striking group of men, especially when Lucien joined them. Hugh Felder was approaching his mid-forties and carried himself with quiet dignity. His black hair was marked with white at the temples, his spectacles suited his face, and his features were even and pleasant. He had been known to wear a mustache, but not today. Lionel Brandon was twenty-six years old, inordinately gifted, and was almost as tall as Lucien. He wore his hair on the longish side, as Lucien did. His long locks were pale blond and perfectly straight instead of dark with a hint of a wave, though, and his blue eyes were a much lighter shade than Lucien’s. Lionel’s appearance in town last night and this morning had caused quite a stir among the ladies.
Eve had once considered O’Hara handsome, also, though in a more conventional way. His brown hair was conservatively cut, and his face was pleasant in a rugged sort of way. He could be charming, when he so desired, even though he had a tendency to dress himself badly. For some reason he found stripes and checks appealing, and he owned more than one bowler hat. Still, she had once found him adorable, but that had been before he’d made an attempt to reach under her skirt and grab that which he had no right to touch.
Eve had worked with them all in the past, documenting hauntings and writing articles for books and magazines devoted to psychical research. They were friends, of a sort, or at least they had been.
Oh, Lucien was going to have a fit when he saw O’Hara! She never should have told him about the unpleasant and brazen incident. Lucien still claimed he had a score to settle with O’Hara.
Hugh was to be Lucien’s best man, and he waited at the front of the church in a corner, along with the fidgeting Reverend Watts. Lionel and O’Hara were seated on the groom’s side, their heads together. They whispered, like just about everyone else in the church.
In addition to the visitors from out of town and the Plummerville Ghost Society, practically everyone from town was here. Half of them believed in Lucien’s abilities, the other half still thought him a scam artist. But they all wanted to see him get married.
So where the hell was he?
> Half an hour late was nothing to cause alarm, not where Lucien was concerned. Still, Eve found herself growing more and more nervous as the minutes ticked past. He’d left her at the altar once before, and the feeling in her stomach then had been much like the wrenching pain she experienced now. That instance had been explained away, and Lucien had apologized many times. Surely he wouldn’t do that to her again!
Daisy crept out of the anteroom and came up behind Eve. The only sound that gave her away was the rustle of her full skirt.
“Where is Lucien?” she whispered. “He should have been here ages ago!”
“He’ll be here,” Eve said confidently.
Daisy was beautiful, as always, in her lavish blue gown that was adorned with bows and silk flowers. The color was perfect for her, matching her eyes and bringing out the pink in her cheeks.
Eve’s wedding gown was simpler in design than Daisy’s fancy dress, but elegant all the same. She had splurged this time. The gown was snow white, and decorated with seed pearls and the most delicate lace that Laverne, the Plummerville dressmaker, had been able to find. The skirt was full, the train not too long, the headpiece simple—a circlet of silk flowers with fine netting attached. Lucien would love it; he would love her in it.
If he ever got here!
It was her aunt and uncle who had sent him packing, she supposed. They were hard to take, she knew that. But by tomorrow they’d be on their way back to Savannah! It wasn’t as if they were going to live together as one big, unhappy family.
In her mind and in Lucien’s they were already man and wife. Her family couldn’t know that, of course. The wedding was a formality, a celebration … a convention.
But it wouldn’t be much of a wedding without a groom.
Eve’s stomach roiled. Lucien obviously thought investigating an old hotel would be better than passing a couple of days with her aunt and uncle and those two twittering cousins who thought he was handsome and worthy of their most annoying giggles. He hadn’t given a moment’s consideration to her feelings. He should have known that she needed him here, even if they did have those annoying relatives between them. Even if he did have to stay in his own room for a few days. He should have known …
