A Loving Spirit (15 page)

And looking so handsome in his evening clothes, with his hair sleekly tied back.

Cassie sighed and looked away from him, trying to attend to the conversation of Lady Royce, Aunt Chat, and Antoinette. But all she could hear were Antoinette's previous words echoing in her mind—"He is falling in love with you, you know."

Well, if he
was
he had a very funny way of showing it! Being argumentative and cool by turns was not Cassie's idea of falling in love.

She firmly turned her back to him, determined to enjoy her evening despite him.

"Ah, here come the carriages now!" Lady Royce said, gathering her fur-trimmed wrap around her. "I have ordered two carriages for tonight, so we needn't all be squashed together and crush our gowns. Chat and I will take the first one, and, Phillip, you may escort Miss Richards and Miss Duvall in the other."

Cassie thought she heard a soft giggle in her ear, but when she turned to look, Antoinette stood some distance away, and Aunt Chat and Lady Royce were already climbing into their carriage.

"Louisa?" she whispered, wondering if the ghosts were playing some sort of joke that involved being invisible.

"Did you say something, miss?" asked the footman, who had just stepped forward to help her into the carriage.

Cassie looked around one more time, but saw only Lord Royce, who watched her quizzically. "No," she said, taking the footman's arm and stepping up into the dim interior of the equipage. "Not at all."

She had just settled herself on the soft leather cushion, when there was a strange sort of yell, and Lord Royce tumbled headfirst into the carriage. He landed with a hard thud on the floor at her feet.

"Lord Royce!" she cried. "Whatever is the..."

Her exclamations were interrupted when the door slammed shut behind him and the carriage jolted into motion. It gathered speed quickly as it set off down the drive.

Cassie heard muffled shouts from outside. After making sure Phillip was not hurt, she lowered the window and stuck her head out to see the footman, Antoinette, and—oh, horrors!—the coachman chasing after them. Antoinette's expression was frantic as she pointed at the carriage.

Cassie twisted about and saw there was no one sitting on the box at all. The horses were running off on their own.

Her heart lifted into her throat with a cold, frightened leap. She fell back against the seat, gasping. They were going to go right over the cliffs in this runaway carriage and become ghosts who were trapped at Royce Castle forever!

Phillip hauled himself up off the floor and onto the seat opposite her, his hair falling loose onto his shoulders and his cravat askew. "Someone pushed me in here!" he muttered indignantly, as if not even aware that they were moving at a dangerous speed.

"We have worse troubles than that!" Cassie practically screamed, lunging across the space between them to grab onto his coat. "No one is driving this carriage!"

"What?" he said, frowning in confusion. "That cannot be."

"Of course it is! I saw it with my own eyes. No one is on the box."

He pressed her gently back onto her seat and stuck his head out the window. Then he fell back beside her, his expression unreadable. "You are right," he shouted over the rush of cold wind that swirled around them from the open window. "No one is driving this carriage."

"What are we going to do?" Cassie asked frantically.

"I have to try to get up onto the box myself and slow the horses." Phillip looked back out the window. "But I do wonder one thing."

Cassie wondered one thing, too—she wondered how he could be so calm in the face of impending doom. "What?"

"Why is our carriage running away so perfectly down the road? Why are we not crashing through the woods?"

Cassie peered past his shoulder to the flashing-by scenery. He was right. They were going in a straight line down the road, away from the village and the castle.

She frowned.
Louisa!
Of course it had to be Louisa and Sir Belvedere and probably that new Lady Lettice and her dwarf friend.

No one had ever told her that dead people could be so mischievous.

She leaned out the window again, and this time she saw Sir Belvedere sitting up on the box, his armored legs held stiffly before him, wielding the reins. Louisa sat beside him, her blue cloak billowing in the wind.

"What are you doing?" Cassie shouted. "Are you trying to get us all killed?" Then she remembered the incontestable fact that those two were already dead, and amended, "Are you trying to get Lord Royce and me killed?"

"Certainly not, fair lady!" answered Sir Belvedere.

"Do not worry, Cassie," added Louisa. "We have a plan."

That was what Cassie was worried about, them and their
plans.
She retreated back into the carriage, where Lord Royce had already stripped off his coat in preparation of trying to take back control of the carriage.

Cassie allowed herself one instant of watching him appreciatively, then said, "I do not think you will have to perform any death-defying heroics today. It is only Louisa and Sir Belvedere playing some sort of joke. They say they have a plan."

He frowned fiercely. "
Ghosts
? Ghosts are absconding with this carriage?"

She nodded, feeling suddenly very tired after her great rush of fear. "I am afraid so."

He pushed past her to look out the window.

"Good evening, my lord!" Cassie heard Louisa and Sir Belvedere chorus.

Then Lord Royce—looking much more like Phillip again—came back inside, and sat down beside Cassie quietly.

"So they
are
real," he said.

Cassie nodded sympathetically, remembering how bewildered she had been the first time she woke up to find Louisa at her bedside. "Yes. Did you think that they were just a dream?"

Phillip gave a short little bark of laughter. "
Hoped
they were, perhaps. It is never easy to admit that one is wrong."

"No, it never is." She knew
that
all too well.

"But what do they want of us?" he said in an unsettled tone.

"I'm not sure. Just for us to be their friends, I suppose, and help them to understand. They are just as confused about why they are here as we are." She paused for a moment, then went on, "I have no idea why they would want to push us into a runaway carriage, though. That seems mean, and they are not
mean
at all."

Phillip still seemed unnaturally still and calm, as if stunned by the proceedings. "You have talked with them a great deal?"

"We have become friends. I do not know this Lady Lettice at all, though, having just met her last night. Perhaps this was all her idea."

"You must think me a terribly stubborn fool, Miss Richards," he said, raising his gaze to meet hers at last "For denying all this so strenuously and for so long."

"Stubborn, perhaps," Cassie answered slowly, with the realization that this was a great turning point for him and for
them
as well. A Lord Royce willing to admit he might share his house and now his carriage with some long-dead ancestors was a momentous thing.

The least she could do was not crow in triumph.

"But not a fool," she went on. "This is all very hard for anyone to understand, especially someone who has devoted their life to history and philosophy. I, myself, do not fully understand it at all, and I doubt I ever will."

Phillip took her gloved hand in his and lifted it to his lips for a warm, lingering kiss. "Thank you, Cassandra. For not thinking me
too
great a fool."

She smiled at him. "Did you not tell me that my name means 'disbelieved by men'?"

He laughed against her fingers, and it echoed sweetly to the very heart of her. Cassie leaned toward him, drawn to him by an inexorable force...

But then there was a great jolt, and the carriage was thrown off balance. Cassie slid against the leather-padded wall, still holding onto Phillip, who fell heavily against her.

"Oof!" she gasped as the carriage ground to a halt, still askew.

Phillip pulled himself away from her. "Cassandra! Are you hurt?"

She was just breathless and a bit sore where her shoulder had landed against the wall. But she
so
wished he would come closer to her again!

"Not at all," she answered, letting him help her up. "But what has happened?"

"I'm not sure." Phillip pushed the door open and climbed down into the road. "It appears your friends have gone, though."

Cassie clambered after him and looked up to the box to see that he was absolutely right. Louisa and Sir Belvedere had vanished, leaving them all alone on a deserted stretch of road with a lopsided vehicle and winded horses.

No one had ever told her ghosts were so unreliable! They had probably floated right back to the East Tower, where they were warm and cozy.

Cassie pulled her cloak closer around her and turned back to see Phillip kneeling down in the road, examining the carriage wheel. "It appears that this wheel is stuck in a rut," he said.

"Can you loose it?"

"Not by myself." He looked up at her and grinned. "I'm just a weak scholar, you know."

Cassie gave a disbelieving little snort. She remembered the lean, strong feel of his body as he fell against her. "I am sure somebody will come along and find us soon. Surely the others will have followed us."

"No doubt. We can start walking back toward the castle, and meet them on the way."

"Yes, a fine idea." Maybe walking would keep her warm, she reflected, even though her thin evening slippers were hardly made for the road.

Phillip reached back into the carriage to retrieve his coat, slid it over his shoulders, then offered her his arm. "Shall we?"

"Thank you," Cassie said. She took his arm and off they went, as if for a pleasant afternoon's stroll.

But they had not gone far before Cassie realized just how impractical her shoes were. She stumbled over a stone in the road.

"What is it?" Phillip asked in concern.

"Oh, these silly shoes! They are supposed to be able to dance all night, but they cannot walk down a simple country lane." Leaning on him, she lifted up her foot and peered wryly down at the thin blue satin. What she wouldn't give for a nice, sturdy pair of boots right now!

With no warning, Phillip reached down behind her knees and swept her up into his arms. He continued walking down the road as if she weighed no more than a quill pen.

"What are you doing?" Cassie cried, twisting about to look at him.

"Carrying you, of course," he answered matter-of-factly. "You are obviously in no condition to be walking. Stop wriggling about so, or I'll have to drop you."

Cassie immediately stilled—and realized how very
nice
it was to be held so. His arms were strong and secure about her, his warm breath stirring in her hair. She leaned her head against his shoulder, and just gave herself over to those lovely feelings.

He hummed a soft little tune as he walked. "You seem quite contented," she commented, marveling at how this seemingly happy-go-lucky man had been so quiet and angry only hours before.

"Oh, I am," he answered, shifting her slightly in his arms. "Just think of all the marvelous new avenues of philosophy that are open to my study now! That is something to look forward to. Best of all, I have a very pretty girl in my arms, and I am strolling along in the evening air rather than sitting at some dull supper party. Do you not agree that this is more fun than being at Lady Paige's house, as worthy as that lady is?"

Cassie thought this was more fun than anything she had ever done before. She was cold and her feet hurt, but she wanted to giggle giddily. What a very good thing it was that the ghosts were so fond of mischief!

"Oh, yes," she agreed. "Much better."

"You do realize, of course, that I have hopelessly compromised you," he said in a genial tone.

Cassie's eyes flew wide open, and she stared up at him. He just smiled blandly back at her.

Was
this what it felt like to be compromised? If so, it was not too bad, though perhaps not
quite
as exciting as one would have imagined. "Have you indeed?"

"Oh, yes. I shall probably have to marry you." He sounded singularly unconcerned by the prospect.

Cassie felt an undeniable thrill at the thought of marrying Phillip. But at the same time she felt a stubborn niggling of doubt. She had always fantasized that she would marry for love, as her parents had. She had a sneaking suspicion that she
did
love Phillip, or at least was beginning to.

But did he love her? She rather doubted it. He probably still thought her a silly, flighty girl.

She wanted him to truly
want
to marry her. Not
have
to marry her because the ghosts had pulled a prank for some reason.

And, if they were to wed, she would have to give up any idea of ever going back to Jamaica. Only true love could make her give that up.

She made herself laugh lightly and said, "I hardly think it will come to that! Only my aunt, your mother, and Antoinette know we are out here alone. They will not gossip about it, surely, and the ghosts cannot. They are never invited to dine anywhere."