Shades of Winter

by Linda Fallon

  Lucien opened his eyes. “They won’t let me leave,” he said weakly. “I tried. I would not have left you waiting there for the world.”

  “I know that,” Eve whispered.

  “The doors wouldn’t open, the windows wouldn’t open, when I tried to break a window they … they took over and pulled me back. I’ve never lost control that way before, Evie. Never.”

  “Don’t talk.” She didn’t want to stay here, but Hugh was right. It was too dangerous to try to move Lucien in these circumstances. Tomorrow would have to be soon enough, whether she liked it or not. “Tonight you’re going to rest, and tomorrow morning we’ll get you out of this place. If I have to knock down a wall to get you out of here, I will.”

  Lionel, his long blond hair tangled by the wind and wet with melted sleet, stood over them. “This hotel is extremely active.”

  “Yes it is,” Hugh said.

  “I have a very bad feeling about this place. I believe Eve’s initial instincts were correct. Perhaps we should try to get out tonight.”

  Hugh glanced around the room. “I don’t know. Moving Lucien in his current physical state won’t be easy. Where’s the boy?”

  At that moment, Garrick came bursting through the front door. He slammed it behind him. “The sleet’s turning to snow,” he said as he shook off the white flakes.

  “Snow?” Daisy said, rushing to the nearest window. “We almost never get snow!”

  “We did have that one big snowstorm a few years ago,” Katherine said.

  “Yeah,” Buster said. “Don’t worry. It never lasts very long. We’ll get a few flakes and by tomorrow afternoon the sun will be out and everything will melt.”

  Hugh asked again, “Where’s the boy?”

  It was Garrick who answered. “Elijah took the horses to his place. He and his mother have facilities to care for and shelter the animals, there. He also said he would bring us some food in the morning.”

  Lionel sighed. “I guess we really are stuck here for the night.”

  Eve brushed a long strand of dark hair away from Lucien’s cheek. He was so pale, and that oddly bloodless color of his skin was accentuated by dark stubble on his face. When had he last eaten? Had he even bothered to eat before he left Plummerville? Sometimes he forgot to take care of himself, when he got involved in a haunting. It was only one of the reasons he needed her. She was supposed to take care of him, the way he took care of her. At the moment, she didn’t know how to help him.

  They were trapped here, by the darkness, by the sleet and snow, by the simple fact that their horses had been led away. “I don’t like this,” she said. “I don’t like it at all.”

  Lucien locked his blue eyes on her face. “Neither do I.”

  Daisy stood against one wall and clasped her hands together. She should have volunteered to stay in Plummerville and see to entertaining Eve’s family during her absence. There was nothing she could do here. She didn’t fight ghosts. She didn’t see things in dark corners the way Lucien’s friends obviously did.

  But when Eve had said she was going after Lucien, Daisy had felt compelled to join her. Any good friend might offer support in such a trying time. The fact that the handsome Lionel Brandon had volunteered first meant nothing to Daisy. Well, almost nothing.

  Now that she was in the Honeycutt Hotel it occurred to her that feeding and entertaining Eve’s family would have been a better use of her time. Of course, she came to that conclusion because she absolutely, positively, did not like it here.

  She might not be able to see the things Lucien and his associates saw, but she had instincts. This hotel was a bad place. A very bad place.

  O’Hara walked past Daisy again, and once again his hand brushed against her. He came very close to her hip, even though she was standing against the wall and he had plenty of room to maneuver without touching her. She moved out of his way and gave him a warning glare he ignored. At least she didn’t squeal, this time.

  Feeling the need to do something productive, Daisy stepped to the center of the room. O’Hara wouldn’t dare to grab her here where the others might see. “I suppose we should settle in for the night, then. Is there any food, do you think? We could wait for morning and Elijah, but if there’s anything in the kitchen …”

  “I didn’t see any food,” Katherine said.

  “Oh.” So much for spending the evening cooking. She wasn’t a very good cook, but she did like puttering about in the kitchen better than standing around and allowing some annoying scoundrel to grab her improperly whenever he passed by.

  Hugh Felder stood, leaving Eve sitting on the floor and holding on to Lucien tightly. “We might not have food, but you’re right, Miss Willard. We should settle in for the night. We’ll need a fire, and if there are suitable beds above stairs they will certainly come in handy.”

  Daisy stared past Mr. Felder, wide-eyed, to study the perfectly even and almost pretty features of Lionel Brandon’s face. She had seen handsome men before. Most of the men she knew had some sort of pleasant features that made them handsome in their own way. But she had never before met a man who was so beautiful!

  “Would you mind checking into those details, Miss Willard?” Hugh Felder asked. Daisy pulled her eyes away from Lionel Brandon and nodded at Mr. Felder. Eve always talked about the man as if he were ancient, a grandfatherly type, so Hugh Felder had definitely taken her by surprise. He wasn’t all that old, though he was significantly older than the other men in his group of colleagues. His spectacles and the white at his temples made him look very distinguished, but not at all like a grandfather.

  “Of course. We need to hang our coats and cloaks up to dry, once we get a fire going,” she suggested. “We’ll need them dry and warm for the trip home tomorrow.”

  Mr. Felder smiled at her. “Excellent idea.” He set Garrick and Buster to the task of fetching wood and building a fire, and Daisy shook off her own heavy cloak. She had no desire to ensconce herself in a bedroom all alone, not in this place. But they were apparently in for the night. She shivered.

  Eve spoke softly to Lucien, stroking his hair, touching his face. Bless her heart, she was so scared for him, and Daisy couldn’t blame her. Lucien didn’t look well, not at all. He was pale, his fingers shook. And it was all Eve could do to keep him sitting up.

  Lucien and Eve loved each other so much, sometimes Daisy envied them. She’d had proposals of marriage, but the kind of love her friends had found eluded her. Deep in her heart she wanted that kind of love. She wanted nothing less than what Eve and Lucien had found. At the same time, love scared her. It required something she wasn’t certain she had to give, anymore. It was like she was being torn in two, craving love and being afraid of it at the same time.

  “Eve,” Daisy said gently as she stepped toward her friend. “Let me take your cloak. It’s wet.”

  “I can’t let Lucien go,” Eve insisted with a shake of her head. “I don’t want him to lie on the floor like he was when I found him. The floor is cold. He wasn’t … he wasn’t himself,” she added in a whisper. “This is better. As long as I’m holding him, maybe they’ll leave him be.”

  Mr. Felder dropped to his knees on Lucien’s other side. “I’ll support him while you get that cloak off,” he said sensibly. “We can’t have you catching cold.”

  Eve shrugged off the cloak quickly and handed it to Daisy, muttering, “Everyone’s so concerned about me catching cold.” She was so beautiful in her wedding gown, Daisy thought as she took the cloak. Eve always insisted that she was plain, but she wasn’t. Not really. Especially not today. Eve’s honey-brown hair had once been elaborately styled, but the jolting trip had loosened many of the once-restrained strands. Her gown was wrinkled, her green eyes bright with fear for the man she loved. And still, she was lovely.

  When Eve wrapped her arms around Lucien again, Hugh released his hold and stood. “Lionel,” he said crisply. “See if you can find a quiet room above stairs. Take O’Hara with you.”

  “A quiet roo
m?” Daisy asked as the two men cautiously climbed the stairs.

  “In a house like this one, where there’s an unusual amount of activity, there are usually a few quiet spots. Places in the building, small rooms usually, where the activity is much less than in the rest of the structure.” He appeared to be suddenly serious. “We must find a quiet spot for Lucien so he can regain his strength.”

  She nodded. “Of course.”

  Mr. Felder returned his attention to Lucien, and Daisy stepped back. Since Lucien’s three friends had come to Plummerville just last night, they’d had the entire town atwitter. Lionel was striking, of course, and had a winning smile and a slight limp that made him seem rather mysterious, even though Eve had revealed the limp was temporary, the result of a fairly recent broken leg.

  The younger girls in town were fascinated with O’Hara and his flirtatious manner. He was not at all like the farmers and shopkeepers who populated Plummerville, and so they were intrigued. He did have a certain appeal, Daisy conceded. But then, didn’t all rogues possess some kind of charm?

  Even Hugh Felder, well into his forties, managed to turn a few heads. There was something very dignified about the man, and he did have his own quiet charm.

  Her mind quickly returned to Lionel again. She didn’t know him well enough to recognize if there was any possibility of a romance. At the moment she was simply intrigued by his smile and his face and, she blushingly admitted to herself, his long, lean body.

  There was only one problem. She would never know if she and Lionel suited one another or not unless they spent time together. Most men usually gave her lots of attention, and finding a few moments for a telling conversation was not difficult.

  There was a specific expression that came over the face of a man who was interested in her in a romantic way. She knew that look. She’d ignored it many times.

  Lionel Brandon might be the perfect man for her, but since his arrival in Plummerville twenty-four hours ago he had not so much as glanced her way, much less given her that all-telling infatuated look.

  Daisy wrinkled her nose as she continued to stare at the man who ignored her. Once Lucien was all better, she’d have to make sure Lionel noticed her.

  O’Hara and Lionel assisted Lucien up the stairs. Eve stayed close behind them, the candle in her hand casting strange shadows across the walls. Hugh led the way, his own candle throwing light onto the stairs and up into the hallway of the second floor.

  The quiet room Lionel and O’Hara had chosen for Lucien was at the end of the long hallway. She was grateful the safest place wasn’t on the third floor. The hotel was huge, rambling and cavernous. Their footsteps echoed in the long-empty building. Moving Lucien at this point was no easy task. The sooner they got him into a bed, the better off they’d all be.

  Hugh placed his candle on a dusty dresser and then assisted the other men as they carefully lowered Lucien onto the prepared bed. The place had been neglected for years, but Daisy and Katherine had given the linens a quick shake and had fluffed up the old pillows. This place had obviously once been elegant, extravagant even, but the years of neglect had dulled the luster. For now, it would have to do. It was certainly preferable to the lobby floor.

  A single candle didn’t provide much light, but they were conserving what they had found. Eve handed her candle to Hugh as she sat on the side of Lucien’s bed and straightened his covers.

  “I’ll stay with you,” Hugh said, passing the candle to Lionel.

  “No,” Eve said softly. “Go ahead and get the others settled for the night.”

  “Are you sure?”

  She tilted her head back and smiled weakly at the older man. “My friends from Plummerville are shaken, I’m sure. They’re not accustomed to this sort of thing. Tell them I’ll be fine, and help them settle in.”

  “If anything happens …” Hugh began.

  “I’ll scream so loud they’ll hear me in Plummerville,” she said.

  He nodded, and the three men left the room. Lionel was the last to leave, and he very gently closed the door behind him.

  Lucien’s eyes were closed, but his breathing was deep and even, and it seemed his color was already better. Eve reached out and brushed a strand of dark hair away from his face. If anything happened to him … What would she do? Losing her father had been difficult, but she’d managed to continue on with her life. If she lost Lucien, she would never recover. Never.

  His eyes fluttered and opened, and he looked at her. Eve’s heart skipped a beat. Oh, she loved him so much. She knew this face in a way she had never known another. She knew his laughter, his quirks, his faults and his most precious attributes. He was strange, to many, getting lost in his work and seeing things others did not. But he was capable of the deepest of loves, and that love was hers. She would care for it and him in whatever way was necessary.

  At the moment, the light in those eyes she knew so well was dimmed.

  “Is everything all right?” Eve asked. “Should I call Hugh?”

  Lucien shook his head, the simple movement leaving him weak. “No. It’s quiet, now. They’re gone.”

  “If they come back, you must tell me right away,” she insisted. “I’ll call Hugh and the others, and they’ll take care of everything.”

  He nodded once and closed his eyes.

  The events of the day came crashing down around her, and Eve started to shake. She leaned down and placed her head on the pillow beside Lucien’s. A shudder worked through her body, a single tear ran down her cheek. “You scared me,” she whispered.

  “I’m sorry,” he replied, his voice just as soft as her own. “I’m not sure how it happened,” he added, sounding truly puzzled. “They blindsided me, Evie. I was walking through the house, picking up hints of spirits here and there, and then I started thinking about the wedding. Out of nowhere they were just … with me. Pushing, shoving. I tried to close those doors, the way Hugh taught me to, but it was too late. They were already inside and they didn’t want to leave.”

  “You can tell me all about it tomorrow, when we get home,” she said, snuggling close. “Right now you need to sleep. Lionel said this is a quiet room.”

  “It is,” Lucien whispered.

  “Nothing will bother you here.”

  “That’s good.” Already he was drifting toward much needed sleep.

  “I won’t allow it,” she insisted, and another tear slipped down her cheek.

  Daisy’s eyes shifted to the stairway once again. Mr. Felder and the others seemed sure that Lucien and Eve would be safe up there, but she wasn’t so sure.

  No one was anxious to retire for the night. Buster and Garrick had gathered wood and built a fire in the fireplace, and the lobby was much warmer than it had been when they’d arrived. There were many rooms and beds above stairs, and Daisy didn’t mind too terribly that they were dusty and long-neglected. She did mind that there were restless spirits here. It didn’t matter if she could see them or not. They were here and she didn’t like it.

  Katherine, who sat on the sofa beside Daisy, yawned. She tried to hide that telling sign with her hand, but that yawn was catching. Soon Daisy was yawning, too. Garrick and Buster talked, their heads together and their voices low. Were they having second thoughts about coming along on this excursion? Probably so, not that second thoughts at this late date did them any good. Buster was rightfully scared of ghosts and didn’t mind letting everyone know about his fears. He was a simple farmer, and he didn’t like confronting things he couldn’t see and touch. Garrick was definitely out of his element. He was most comfortable with a bottle of whiskey in one hand and a wad of cash in the other. All his troubles were either drowned in whiskey or paid off with his father’s money. They were both involved with the Plummerville Ghost Society because it was fun and interesting, not because they wanted to spend the night in a haunted hotel.

  Of course, the same could be said of Daisy. The social aspect of their club was the highlight. She loved being a part of a secret society, and
she adored all her friends. Daisy had been so excited at the outset that she had even embroidered each of the members matching hankies. She still couldn’t understand why Lucien and Garrick had found that contribution so amusing.

  Katherine’s motives went beyond the social, Daisy suspected. For one thing, she wasn’t an overly friendly person. Until she’d joined the Plummerville Ghost Society she’d kept to herself, most of the time. Katherine wanted to be rid of the ghost of her late husband. So far Lucien had attempted to send him on twice, but had been unsuccessful. They had planned to try again, after the wedding.

  None of them were prepared for such an excursion. Ghosts! Abandoned, creepy hotels!

  Daisy shuddered. She didn’t like the way Lucien’s three friends looked around the large, dusty lobby, as if they saw something she herself did not. Of course they did! They were all extraordinary men who had gifts she would never understand. Gifts like the one Lucien possessed.

  Lucien talked to the dead. Did the others do the same? Or were their powers different? She wanted to know … but at heart she was not a brave woman. She didn’t want to see those powers manifest themselves in this particular situation.

  A scholarly and distant education was more her style.

  Katherine stood slowly. “Gentlemen, I would like to retire for the evening. Which room would be most suitable? Does it matter?”

  Daisy’s heart lurched. “Katherine!” she said. “Surely you don’t intend to … to sleep upstairs.”

  Katherine glanced down with a smile. “Well, I’m not going to sleep here.”

  “But … but there are ghosts!” Daisy whispered.

  Katherine shrugged. “According to Lucien, there are ghosts everywhere. Since I don’t have his gift, I don’t see how I can be in physical danger.”

  “Is that true?” Daisy asked, her eyes turning to Hugh Felder.

  It was that annoying O’Hara who answered, stepping away from the corner and into the light. Daisy tried to concentrate on his faults. Where Lionel was very pretty, O’Hara had sharper, more masculine features. Some women might find those features handsome, she supposed, but she most certainly did not. O’Hara was shorter than Lionel and Lucien, probably standing no more than five foot ten. Since she was barely five feet tall herself, that was hardly short, but still …