Maura’s Special Spinster’s Society (The Spinster’s Society) (A Regency Romance Book)
Page 6
Yet by all appearances, the woman didn’t seem to care. It was as though the woman he’d thought to be on the verge of breaking down during her session with Frank had been an entirely different woman.
And maybe she was. Perhaps, this was all part of the madness that consumed her.
Morris shot the shuttlecock into the air and immediately everyone spread out. The groups were mixed together, since shuttlecock truly only had one rule: don’t let the shuttle hit the ground. So, the group had made their own game. Each team would start with twenty points. If a member of the male team happened to miss the shuttle, they would lose a point and the same for the women. Whoever managed to keep most of their points at the end of the hour would win.
Julius’s friend Calvin shot out for the shuttlecock and missed it when his wife Alice spun out of the way.
“Point lost for the men,” Jane shouted from her position on the side of the field just up a hill where she and Lorenzo could see everything.
“That’s not fair!” Calvin shouted. He pointed a finger at his lovely wife. “She didn’t even move to try and save the shuttle.”
Jane blinked, but her stern expression didn’t waver. Jane was one of the most gallant servants Julius had ever had the pleasure to know. When Lorena had found her, Jane had been a flower girl… and had been beating a young man in the road for having stolen something. Jane had been hired straight away and had learned the duties of a lady’s maid during her three years of service to Lorena. But servitude hadn’t changed Jane at all. She was small but bold. “Point lost from the men! Shuttle in the air!”
The shuttle was shot up again, this time by an enraged Calvin.
Sophia, Morris’s duchess, shot it back and the game went on. Players brushed one another as they moved around the field and Julius quickly found himself next to Maura.
Her cheeks were flushed, and her eyes blazed with life. He was memorized by her small breaths of exertion. She moved, positioning herself in front of him, and he looked up just in time to see her hit the shuttle back, her long arm graceful and sweeping through the air as though part of a dance.
Whoever was on the other side shot it directly back their way.
Julius didn’t think. He just acted.
His hand touched Maura’s back and slipped lower.
“Oh.” She spun around at the last minute.
The white shuttle landed softly, a vivid object in the bed of green grass.
“Point lost for the women!”
Maura gasped and spun back around. “No, wait. He…”
Julius chuckled and leaned to whisper in her ear, “Tell us, Maura. Exactly what did I do?”
She bit her lip, frustration clear on her face. She’d never say what he’d done, not in front of so many. Doing so would either embarrass them both or… ruin her reputation.
And suddenly, Julius discovered just how he planned to have fun.
She turned to him. Blond curls had begun to stick to the side of her face where moisture had built. Her lashes seemed darker as well. When Mademoiselle St. Serin had written his book on sports for young women with its gentle illustrations, Julius knew none of the women had looked as exquisite as Maura with her parted lips and perspiration setting her face to glow.
He reached down and grabbed the shuttle and positioned it over his battledore.
She wiped at the side of her face and whispered, “Don’t do it again.”
He lifted his brow. “Do what? You’ll have to be more specific.”
Her eyes lowered.
Jane’s voice broke the moment. “Shuttle in the air!”
Julius shot it away.
* * *
chapter 14
* * *
“You’re simply deplorable, Julius Hext,” Maura hissed, unaware that the shuttle had returned to them.
Julius wrapped an arm around her, and to anyone, it would seem as though he were only moving her out of the way. With his other hand, he lifted his battledore and shot it back, only half paying attention to it. His mind remained fixated on the hand that touched Maura, spreading against her belly and down her hip before he released her.
A rumble of flabbergasted syllables left her lips, but there was not a complete word amongst them.
“Oh.” In the end, she started away.
But Julius caught up with her, pretending to simply be playing the game just as much as anyone else.
“Have I upset you, Maura?”
Her eyes returned to him. He liked when she looked at him. “You know exactly what you’re doing.”
He bent his head to her. “I know exactly what I’m doing and what it does to you.” He didn’t actually know. He couldn’t be sure but saw her color heightened.
Damn, but if there, in fact, existed a heaven, surely, she’d come from it.
She bit her lip and turned away, speeding up her steps.
He was aware that there were other couples ‘accidentally’ bumping into one another.
There was shouting and laughter. A groan from a male companion had Julius wonder what was happening in the places he couldn’t see. There were too many people in the field for anyone to truly know what was going on. Two more shuttles were dropped by the women. One by the men. Boots crunched grass, sending the blades natural fragrance into the air. Heavy breathing and the need to win all heightened the game.
Maura went for the shuttle again and Julius let her hit it.
Then he moved in, pressing himself against her.
He shivered and closed his eyes, instantly beginning to swell against her lush bottom. The piquant feeling was so intense that he almost missed when Maura leased a shiver of her own.
He groaned when she pressed into him, but before he could grab her to keep her in place, she moved away and he immediately felt exposed.
His hands were out.
The shuttle dropped at his feet on the grass.
“Lost point for the men!”
His team groaned. There was shouting.
Julius glared as he searched for Maura… and found her nearly across the field, dashing in and out of the people around her, peeking out and laughing at him over her shoulder.
His embarrassment left him. Everything fled from his mind. Only she remained, weaving her way through the others with an expression that was daring, arousing, and begged him to chase.
He took a step toward her but was cut off by Frank, who reached down and picked up the shuttle. He turned knowing hazel eyes in Julius’s direction.
There was no need to say anything. How many other times had Frank caught Julius gazing longingly at Maura? He’d already admitted to wanting her.
Frank shot the shuttle.
“What happened between Maura and the vicar?” Julius asked, bringing it up so that Frank wouldn’t comment on any other dealings between him and Miss Maura.
The other twenty-two people began to play, giving the shuttle chase, all oblivious to their conversation.
“She’ll have to be the one to tell you.” Frank readied himself just in case the shuttle came his way again. “Though you know that already.”
He did. “She won’t say.”
“Likely for good reason. You’re quite judgmental.”
“Me?” Julius was shocked by the words.
“Yes. You.” Frank shot the shuttle, his battledore coming far too close to Julius’s face for his liking.
He tried to pay attention to the game again even as Frank continued to lecture him. “You’ve already condemned her as mad. You can’t see past it.”
“I can, and I do.” He saw many things when he looked at Maura and wanted to see so much more, like what she looked like unclothed.
“Perhaps, if you were willing to hear her out—”
“Frank, we don’t have time for this.” He shot the next shuttle that came toward him, making one of the women drop it. Then he turned to Frank. “You need to find a solution and immediately.”
Frank met his eyes and nodded. “I will try. I have tried, but
these things take time.”
“Then you’re not asking the right questions.” He watched the shuttle fly into the air. It crossed the sun and he blinked away. “Ask more about this… Albion. I don’t like him.”
Frank chuckled. “He’s dead, and you’re jealous of him.”
“I’m not.” The shuttle sailed over both their heads. Calvin hit and grinned with satisfaction. He and his wife Alice were two of the most competitive in their group. They both operated various gaming hells and loved nothing more than to win.
“Albion can’t hurt her,” Frank said. “He can’t even touch her. He’s a ghost.”
That didn’t make Julius feel any better, not when he wanted to be the one who slipped into Maura’s room at night, filled her thoughts and dreams. “Dead or not, I don’t like him. Find out more.”
Frank sighed. “Fine. I might as well.” Then he hit the shuttle and sprinted away.
Julius found Maura. She was watching him. Her gaze narrowed, likely wondering at what he and Frank had been discussing.
As though she didn’t know she’d taken center stage in his life.
* * *
chapter 15
* * *
“Tell me about Albion,” Frank instructed.
Maura frowned. “We’ve discussed him before.” They were in the library once again. It was late evening, an hour before dinner. After the game, which the women had won to everyone’s great surprise, Maura had cleaned herself and taken a long nap in her bed with the afternoon sun for a blanket. Then she’d dressed and chatted with the women in the ladies’ drawing room before seeking out Frank for their timely meeting.
Frank rubbed his temples and then shook his head. “I know we’ve discussed him before, but I wish to know… Did you love Albion?”
That surprised her. “I was only eleven.”
Frank chuckled and shook his head again. “I know, but… think about it. What were your feelings where Albion was concerned?”
Maura thought and then shrugged. “We were friends. He was older. I did admire him. He was handsome as a young man.”
Frank grinned as though his own question humored him. “And now he’s a handsome young man forever.”
“Not forever,” Maura replied. “Albion is older now.”
Frank smiled. “Older?” He blinked and then the smile fell away. He straightened. “Albion is older? How much older?”
Maura frowned. “Well, he was sixteen thirteen years ago, so that would make him twenty-nine at least.”
Frank blinked. “And does he look twenty-nine or… I’m sorry. I don’t understand every theory on ghosts, but since you became my patient, I have done some studies and in all of them I’ve learned that... ghosts don’t age. Do you mean he’s… changed form perhaps?”
Maura thought of the last time she’d seen Albion and then slowly shook her head. “No. Well, yes. He’s terribly pale, but… only older. He hasn’t aged as well as one could have, but… Ghosts can age, can’t they?” They had to. Albion was older now.
“I don’t know.” Frank stood, took a step, and then started to pace. He locked his hands behind his back as he moved. “Tell me of Albion’s last visit.”
“He appeared in the middle of the night and asked if I’d received any letters from my father. He asked if I knew where El Hombre Dorado was and if I’d asked my father about it.”
He moaned in thought and then said, “That is interesting.”
“Interesting?” Maura didn’t think so. She was tired of the visits, tired of being woken from her sleep by Albion’s voice, but she understood what he needed. She understood that he was tired as well and ready to move on to the next realm, maybe heaven.
“I’ve read reports from others who’ve encountered ghosts. They said the ghosts tended to speak as though their words were lyrics to a song. They couldn’t create new words, and were only capable of what they already knew, saying the same thing over and over again.” He began to talk with his hands, moving as though speaking to himself. “Your ghost is different. He… evolves. He learns from his situation. This isn’t right.”
“But you already knew that.”
Frank looked at her. “Yes, and though it had bothered me before, I let it go, but I didn’t know he looked twenty-nine, Maura. Before today you simply said he looked... different and I readily assumed you meant in a ghostly way, not in the way that a man ages over time.” He looked away. “Is he taller?”
“Yes.”
“His face has matured?” He looked at her again.
“Well, of course.” She stilled as her heart raced. “What are you saying?” Her throat felt thick, and she worked to clear it even as he spoke.
Frank held her gaze. “How does Albion leave you when he leaves, Maura?”
She stopped to think. “He dissolves in the wind.”
“And you’ve seen it?” Frank asked intently. “You’ve seen him disappear in the wind?”
She laughed. “Of course not. He makes me close my eyes. He says if my eyes follow him, I could lose my soul.” And she didn’t want to be stuck as a ghost like Albion.
He leaned down and grabbed her shoulders. “In thirteen years, not once have you peeked to look?”
Maura shook her head. “No. Never.”
* * *
chapter 16
* * *
“Shite!” Frank shot up and ran a hand through his hair. He stared at Maura with wide eyes.
Maura leaned away at the outburst, having rarely heard Frank ever curse.
He sat beside her in a chair close by, bringing it even closer as he spoke. “Are the windows or doors open when he visits?”
She nodded. “Always. As many windows and doors as there are in the room, they’re all open when he wakes me. He needs them open in order to have access to the winds.” Maura had read all about that in books. Windows would rattle, and doors shook. Ghosts were like powerful bursts of air and spirit. “Frank—”
“He could have walked through the open door like any other man if you weren’t watching.”
“True,” she agreed. “However—”
“Or climbed out of a window,” Frank went on.
She nodded. “That’s true, but Albion couldn’t have done any of that, because he died, Frank. I saw him drown. His family mourned for him. So did mine. We buried him.” It was a moment that changed her life forever. She’d not forget it.
“And you saw him buried?” Frank asked.
Maura frowned. “Of course not. I’m a woman. I would have been excluded from the burial just as much as his own mother.”
He looked away. “Of course.”
She touched his shoulder until he was looking at her again. “He’s not a man, Frank. He’s a ghost.”
“How can you be so sure?” Frank asked.
“Because, if he were a man, then he could never have visited me at Bedlam,” she said. “My father used to find his own trouble visiting me. The doctors tried to stop him from doing so in the beginning. It was my uncle, Lorena and Francis’s father, the Duke of Valdeston, who had made it so my father could come in. He also made… the worst of the treatments end. If Albion weren’t a ghost, he’d have never gained access to my rooms or to a key in the middle of the night. He’d have been caught by a guard.”
Frank’s shoulders fell. “That… makes perfect sense, Maura. I don’t see how he’d have found the means to visit you if even your own father had issues.” He seemed disappointed and stood once more. Pacing. “Still… It’s possible. One could pay off the right guards.”
“With what money?” Maura asked. “Albion was only sixteen. He had no occupation. Where would he have found the means? His father had been doing well, but he needed his funds for his expeditions.”
Frank wasn’t listening. “I could visit the hospital and see if I can find out if anything unusual took place.”
Maura stared at him. “Many unusual things take place at Bedlam, but I don’t think Albion still being alive is one of them.”
She nodded.
He squeezed her hand. “Maura, from everything I’ve learned about you over this last year as your doctor and from what I knew about you as your friend for two years, it’s all led me to believe that you are far from mad.”
She smiled. Kindly. “Thank you...”
He wasn’t done. “I think someone is playing a horrible trick on you. I don’t know why, but I plan to find out. In the meantime, you need to tell Lorena what is taking place. Don’t let her find out when it’s too late. As someone who’s been hurt by the sudden loss of someone they love, don’t do this to her.” Frank’s mother had died in a carriage accident.
He might as well have placed his hand around her heart, because it constricted as though a tight fist were around it.
Tears came to her eyes and she nodded. “You think Albion’s alive.”
“Or someone is pretending to be him. I’m not sure, though I see why you wouldn’t believe this. I couldn’t imagine what it would have been like to see someone I know die before my eyes and after your years at Bedlam, surrounded by people who actually needed the help and safety that can be provided…” He shook his head. “You’re not mad. You’re perfectly sane.” He squeezed her hand again. “In everything I’ve read. ghosts don’t age. You can’t if you’re dead. Only the living age. Like a perfectly composed melody, ghosts remain as they are, bound in place for all time.”
She understood everything that Frank was saying but found it hard to believe.
Ghosts didn’t age?
But Albion was dead… wasn’t he?
Tears burned her eyes, and she closed them and shook her head. Unwilling to believe what Frank was saying, unwilling to hope. But then fear crashed upon her. If Albion was alive, then he’d been slipping into her room for years.
He stood. “I must prepare to leave after dinner. I’ll return in a few days’ time, hopefully before your father does. Would you like me to help you to your room?”