Laurie Brown (18 page)

The ghost shook his head. “It won’t make any difference.”

“Of course it will. You’ll die eventually, of course, but at least not...”

“I can still feel the presence of the bullet in my heart.”

“But if there isn’t a duel, then you won’t be shot.”

She fought back unexpected tears. “It’s that altered memory thing. You’ll remember when we get...”

“You can’t change history.”

“Then why are we here? Aren’t we supposed to change what happens by debunking the gypsy seer?”

“Maybe I was wrong to think we could alter the future.” Deverell sat in the chair and turned away from her to stare out the
window. “Maybe that’s why we can’t figure out how she...”

“No! I refuse to believe that,” she said, rushing to his side and sinking to her knees. She wanted to reach out to touch him,
but she gripped the chair arm instead.“We can do it. I know we can. I refuse to leave until...”

“We may not have a choice.” He turned sad eyes to her. “I thought we would have more time, but my strength is flagging.”

That was obvious, although she didn’t say so. He not only was paler but also looked...grayer, indistinct around the edges.
“Then save your energy. Stop materializing. Stop...whatever.”

“I don’t think it will make a great difference. I will hold out as long as possible.” But he must reserve 235 enough energy
to get her home.That he could not, would not, put at risk. He dematerialized and withdrew his presence. At the last second
he glanced back. Josie dropped her head onto her hands.

She wasn’t ready to leave.Was it simply her usual dog-with-a-bone attitude toward completing any given project, or did it
have more to do with Dev and the unfinished business between them? She had little time to analyze her strong desire to stay
before a knock on the door interrupted her thoughts.

“Come in,” she called as she jumped up. She slid into the chair and grabbed her book off the table.

Honoria entered. “Oh, I am so glad to see you are none the worse for your ordeal,” she whispered.

Josie blinked. What had Dev told his mother? And why was she whispering?

“The coast is clear,” Mrs. Binns said from the doorway in a normal voice.“Come. Come. Nellie laid out a lovely tea before
she left, and I always say everything looks brighter after a cup of the healing brew.”

“So traumatic,” Honoria said, reaching out to help Josie stand as if she were some sort of invalid.

“Really, I’m fine.”

“Of course you are,” Mrs. Binns assured her. “And you are not to worry. Honoria and I have let it be known, subtly of course,
that you were regrettably confined to your bed with the headache.”

At least the prosaic and mundane excuse was more believable than Dev’s proposed lost-in-the-woods story. In order to get lost
off a well-marked path a person would have to be practically brainless. Not an adjective she aspired to have connected to
her name.

The women settled into the sitting room, Honoria next to Josie on the sofa. Mrs. Binns took the nearby side chair and poured.

“Do I smell mint?” Josie asked.

“I added a pinch as a general pick-me-up. I also added verbena as a restorative for your nerves.”

“Your reputation is safe with us,” Honoria said, patting Josie’s hand.

“Lord Waite was quite self-effacing,” Mrs. Binns said.“He said you rescued yourself and he just provided transportation. However
did you get away from Hargrave?”

“I kneed him in the groin.”

Honoria blanched, but Mrs. Binns leaned for-ward.“ Tell me more.”

“That’s all there is to tell. It’s a self-defense technique that can be used if a male assailant is facing you.”

“Show me. Show me.”

Josie dutifully stood by the side of her chair and demonstrated the move as she’d been taught, adding her own refinement of
lifting her skirt for more knee room.“One good whack and it’ll down any man immediately.”

“I think I’ll remember that.”

“More tea,” Honoria asked, her voice strained.

Josie took the hint and changed the subject. “I’m concerned about Dora. Her poor face. How is she doing?”

“She’s under Mrs. Osman’s care,” Honoria said. “I tried to persuade Dora to take a few days off to rest, but she refused.
I admit I’m relieved because of all the extra work necessary for the ball. I must be a terrible person to even...”

“Nonsense. You are only being practical,” Mrs.

Binns said. “Don’t worry yourself. I gave Mrs. Osman some herbs to make a poultice that works absolute wonders. Now, now,
I’m sure Mrs. Osman is quite competent, but I never travel without my remedies. One never knows when a tisane or tonic will
be needed.”

“How did Dora explain her injuries?” Josie asked.

“She walked into a door,” Honoria said.

“Who would believe...”

“No, she really did walk into a door,” Mrs. Binns said.“Apparently on her return from the folly, a bit tipsy some say, teary-eyed
others insist, she was directly in front of a door when a footman kicked it open. He carried several heavy crates of food
destined for storage in the icehouse until later tonight.

“The door hit her, and she screamed and stumbled, tripping and falling onto her back. He twisted around to see what had happened,
and a platter of stuffed capons slid out of the overfilled top box.Whether she was hit in the face yet again by the plate
or by flying poultry no one could say, because the hunting pack arrived at the same time as the other servants. One of the
dogs knocked over the footman, who then dropped the other crates, spilling out sweetmeats, puddings, and, to my complete dismay,
all of the salmon tarts.”

Horrified by her reaction to the story, Josie covered her mouth to hold back a giggle. Poor Dora.

“Dogs snatching capons, footmen grabbing at dogs, maids waving their aprons and dishcloths to shoo them away but succeeding
only in contributing to the chaos, shouting and falling all over the animals and each other, elbows and knees flying. Everyone
running around higgledy-piggledy. Everyone except Cook, who fainted.”

“Oh my.”

“Oh my, indeed,” Honoria said with a sigh. “I fear my reputation as a hostess is in dire jeopardy.A ball without a supper
is an affront to decency.”

“Cook is recovered and talented,” Mrs. Binns said. “I’m sure your supper will pass muster, albeit without salmon tarts. Now
drink your tea.We can all use a bit of relaxation.”

“I may need more than verbena before the evening’s over,” Honoria lamented. “The ruined supper, the Wingates leaving in a
huff...”

Josie stifled a cheer.

“Limping footmen,” Honoria continued. “Bruised and bandaged maids, holding a séance during the ball, and...”

“A séance?” Josie perked up. So Dev had made good on his promise.Now she owed him that walk in the moon garden.

“Let me go on record as saying I heartily disapprove,” Mrs. Binns said.

“Noted,” Josie said, hoping to cut her verbose chaperone short and get to the details. She twisted in her seat to face Honoria.“Midnight?
In the library?”

“Actually,we’ll have to meet at eleven. Supper was already scheduled for midnight, and I haven’t the heart to ask Cook to
change the schedule after all she has been through. Oh, no, what if she...”

“Drink up. Everything will be fine,” Mrs. Binns said. “Cook will...”

“Not Cook.What if Madame X cannot contact Amanu if it’s not midnight?”

“Did she express any doubts?” Josie asked. If the séance was a bust, how would she get her evidence?

“Not exactly,” Honoria said. “But she didn’t seem pleased with the idea of another séance tonight. I had to stand firm. Even
so, it took both Estelle and me to convince her.”

“And Lord Waite,” Josie added.

Honoria looked confused.

“He suggested another séance tonight?” Josie prompted.

“Noooo. That was my idea. I was so disappointed that we failed to contact your father. I know what a comfort it can be to
know your loved ones are happy.”

“But Lord Waite helped you convince Madame X?”

“Did he?” Honoria furrowed her brow.“No, he couldn’t have. Dev left the library right after you. I stopped by Estelle’s rooms
to make sure Madame was recovering and to see if they needed anything. That’s when the subject came up. Dev most definitely
was not there.”

“Then how...”

“I immediately sent notes to everyone. Didn’t you...”

“Ours were waiting for us early this morning,” Mrs. Binns said. “As Josie would have seen if she had not rushed out willy-nilly
without checking the salver on the desk. Several gentlemen we met last night sent ’round calling cards,” she added with a
satisfied nod.“And more came today. I’ll get them so we can talk about prospects for your dancing partners tonight at the
ball.”

Josie wasn’t interested in dancing or other men. She wanted to know more about how and when Dev had found out about the séance.“You
sent a note to Lord Waite? And he would have read it this morning?”

“Most likely last night. My maid was instructed to tell Carson the missive was important, and he is quite efficient at making
sure Dev reads my notes in a timely manner.”

“Why you would want to have another séance on the night of your ball is a mystery to me,”Mrs. Binns said over her shoulder.“Oh,
just look at these notes.”

“It is quite strange. As I walked down the hall, I kept hearing this faint voice saying over and over, ‘Séance tomorrow. Séance
tomorrow.’ You don’t think I’m channeling Amanu, do you? Wouldn’t that be exciting? Or perhaps terrifying—I’m not sure.”

Josie bit her lip to keep from assuring Honoria the ghost she heard was probably her son from the future. Go Deverell. He
must be thrilled to have finally gotten through to his mother.

“You’re not channeling anything but a little bird,” Mrs. Binns said. She returned to her seat carrying a shallow silver plate
about the size of a shoebox lid. “Oh my, Lord Chalmsey left his card.” She held the card to her breast. “Such a handsome man.
He would be the catch of the season.”

“After my son,” Honoria said.

“Of course. But he is still a confirmed bachelor.” Mrs. Binns set the salver on the table between them, and she and Honoria
went through the formal cards, notes, three poems, and a nosegay of dried violets.

Josie sat back and listened to their comments on the assorted gentlemen who had “called.” Phones might be more efficient,
but she’d never received a poem on her voice mail. All the verses were written by the same man and were ridiculous enough
to cause giggles when read aloud. She thought the ode to her eyebrows had a nice meter, and to give the writer his due it
wasn’t easy to find a word that rhymed with
arched
. Both older women deemed the penniless poet unsuitable.

Josie tuned out the discussion of titles, habits, and incomes, although she did maintain an expression of mild interest and
remembered to nod now and then.

So Dev had known that another séance was already scheduled when he made the deal with her. The dirty rat. If he thought she
would keep her end of a bargain made under false pretenses, he had a surprise coming.

Her first inclination was to confront him with his perfidy, but fortunately he wasn’t handy and she had a chance to rethink
her position. He didn’t know she knew. That gave her an ace in the hole. Now the trick would be how to play her advantage
to the best effect.

“Don’t you think so, Josie?” Honoria asked.

“An excellent idea,” Mrs. Binns said.

“Josie?”

“Ah...sure.”

“Then it’s settled,” Honoria said. “While you two are napping, I will arrange for trays to be brought up later.”

“This will work out just fine,” Mrs. Binns said, rubbing her hands together.“Her absence at dinner will create a bit of anticipation,
and then Josie can make a grand entrance fashionably late.”

“But not too late,” Honoria added. “The dancing will start at nine and you don’t want to miss a minute of that.”

“I don’t know how...”

“What girl doesn’t love to dance?” Mrs. Binns asked.

“I...”

“Estelle planned the musical program and insisted we have several waltzes. She says it’s all the rage on the Continent,” Honoria
said, neither woman giving Josie a chance to talk.

“A bit risqué, don’t you think?”

“Perhaps for a public assembly, but perfectly acceptable for a private ball.The young people are quite eager to display their
new skills.”

“I’m sure they are,” Mrs. Binns said with a sniff. “I think Josie will stay with the traditional quadrilles and country dances.”

Josie didn’t remember any of her one dancing lesson with...whoever that was that came to tea with Amelia.“I don’t...”

“She can waltz if she wants to. I might even have a try at it myself.”

“Honoria! I’m shocked.”

“I am not an old fuddy-duddy yet.”

“If you’re insinuating I...”

“Whoa! Time-out.” Josie made the
T
with her hands and even though the other women couldn’t possibly have any idea what it meant, they did stop talking.“There’s
no sense arguing. I won’t be dancing, because I don’t know any of the steps. No,my education wasn’t lacking—okay, maybe a
little as far as the quadrille is concerned—but I’m sure I’ll enjoy watching everyone else.”

“Oh, I wish I’d known,” Honoria said with a commiserating expression.“I could have arranged for a dancing master to come in
yesterday or earlier today.”

“We certainly will engage one before heading to town for the Season,” Mrs. Binns said.

“I’ll give you Master DuPree’s card. He is the very best.”

“Thank you. Hasn’t he written a book?”

“We have a copy in the library. I’ll have Nellie bring it up for you.You and Josie will just adore his wit.Who are you going
to have do her wardrobe?”

“I was thinking of Solange of La Petite Salon.”

“Excellent choice. But you must have Mrs. Smithson do her millinery. Fabulous featherwork. The proper headpiece can take an
outfit from ordinary to amazing.”

“I agree. So important. And she will need new gloves, boots...”

Friends again, the two women were off planning Josie’s future.A future she couldn’t afford, monetarily or time-wise.