Wanted: One Ghost (11 page)

April couldn’t agree more. “Perhaps together we might be able to honor James’s memory. I look forward to paying my respects to the man. The more I’ve gotten to know him, the more I feel he wasn’t given justice.”

“And you know this how? He was accused of crimes against the crown. Is there documentation proving his innocence?”

“No. If I’d found any, I would have informed you, Mr. Miles.” April tried to back track. She was treading on thin ice by opening her heart and her mouth at the same time. “It’s just a feeling I have. I can’t explain it.”

“I know of those feelings, Dr. Branford. One of the reasons why I’m so good with investing is having those feelings of being in the right place at the right time. My own intuition plays a big part in my business dealings. Right now, something is telling me the Kings Mill site is an investment of a lifetime. All I know is its imperative for me to be able to find those documents and have access to the land.”

April couldn’t help but smile. Kenneth Miles was as infatuated with this whole James Addison case as she was, but for different reasons. She almost thought they might be kindred spirits.

She needed to get to the bottom of James’s case before Mr. Miles showed up. Her future depended on finding out the truth. Besides, how could she introduce both men without being thoroughly questioned? How did you introduce a long deceased relative to their kin? She hadn’t been tutored in that kind of protocol. There was no way to explain it really.

Speaking of her ghost, James was waiting for her. Every moment without him could be precious time she may never have again. Looking at her mousy appearance in the vanity mirror she wasn’t going anywhere. She didn’t have time for a shower. Her hair had all but fallen down around her throughout the day. If they were going to go out she needed to look a bit better, even touching up her simple make-up would help take the dark shadows of the past few nights of restlessness from under her eyes.

Changing into her black dress slacks and wrinkle free white blouse she always packed for possible dinner functions while on business, made her feel better. She looked more professional and less like a college student. She took down her hair and brushed it out, twisting it back up and securing it with her clip again.

Wearing it down wasn’t an option, not with James. Very few women wore their hair down in his day, unless they were in bed. She didn’t need to project wanting to be considered a trollop or easy, though thinking about it she wouldn’t mind finding out about the legendary side to the man. He was a gentleman, handsome, charming and …not of this time frame.

Looking at herself in the mirror of the Chippendale vanity, she realized she hadn’t looked this put together for Jason—ever. She wanted a different look from the studious, college girl but didn’t want to look like the studious, stuffy professor either. She turned to view herself from every angle. This would work, she liked it. She finished herself off with light sprits of perfume and a swipe of clear gloss to her lips. Grabbing her small purse instead of her large hobo bag she would keep it simple yet elegant tonight and take him out for steak and seafood at one of the nearby colonial taverns.

James’s bedroom door had been left open. His room was dark. Looking at her watch she realized she was a bit later than she had intended to be. He must be waiting for her down stairs. Soft light met her as she descended the wide staircase.

“James?”

James stepped from the shadows and looked up at her from the base of the stairs. April nearly lost her footing in her sling-back, kitten heels. If ever a man could make her turn into a puddle of goo on the floor he would be the one to do so. His hair was slicked back and tied in a queue with the bit of leather strap he wore. The day’s worth of dark scruff lined his jaw and upper lip. God help her, she loved the natural male image it gave him.

“You look beautiful, Dr. Branford.”

How many women in his day had swooned when they heard the husky timbre of his voice? Men like James Addison might have been the reason fainting couches and smelling salts were needed.

April’s cheeks warmed at the compliment. “Thank you. So do you. What I mean to say is—you look very nice.” Flustered, like some shy adolescent, could she be any more of an idiot. But he only smiled his warm, sexy smile and held out his hand for her to take.

She placed her hand in his. It was amazing to think she couldn’t touch him only a few days ago. Now he was real. His hand enveloped hers and he raised her hand to his lips and gently kissed her knuckles, making her feel feminine and delicate.

His eyes never left hers. Her heart hammered wildly beneath her rib cage as a river of fire flowed through her blood stream. Was she going to combust? Have a heart attack? Or perhaps both? Could a woman die from wanting a man so badly?

James placed her hand on the crook of his arm and escorted her to the table. “Oh wow! It’s wonderful,” April gasped.

There before her was a table set for two. Candlelight flickered behind the hurricane globe, casting prisms of light off of the wine goblets near a setting of her Aunt Vickie’s fine china. On a small serving table, James had arranged a virtual smorgasbord of sliced fruits, vegetables, cheeses, cold meats, and her aunt’s date bread with tiny dishes of her honey whipped butter.

He’d planned this intimate display in less time than it took her to dress and prepare herself. No one had ever made her feel more like a queen.

“Do you like it? You’re not offended because I did this instead of going out to dinner?” James asked.

“Not at all, James. This really is wonderful.”

Only a bit of light glowed from a small fire in the grate of the parlor fireplace. A few strategically placed candles around the room and one in the window added to the romantic ambiance.

“I wanted to properly show you my appreciation. I feel as if I am taking advantage of you and have no way of repaying your kindness. You’re a woman who should dine on the finest fare and have the rarest of gems bestowed upon her. And yet I cannot gift you with any of those items. It makes a man feel less than he’s worth.”

He laid a hand on her back as he guided her into her chair. His touch sent tiny electrical impulses coursing through her.

“I don’t look at it that way. A woman can take care of herself and help a friend out in need. Besides, you’re worth it. It’s not every day a historian can actually sit and chat with someone from the past. Can you imagine how many professors and scientists would love to meet you?” She tried to keep the situation light, business-like by making him see the situation from her perspective. She could deal with the professional side of their encounter.

“I do see your point, though. Just because times have changed, doesn’t mean your social graces have. I suppose it is difficult for you to accept.” April let him slide her chair up to the table for her. “I do appreciate the thought. It’s wonderful. I’ve never had a man make a romantic dinner for me. Thank you, James.”

He smiled slightly as he poured her a glass of wine from a bottle chilling in a wine bucket. His eyes danced merrily from his attention to the glass, back to her. “The men in this time must be daft not to have the good sense to show such a beautiful woman as you, her true worth. I must right this wrong, immediately. Let me lavish you with the affection you deserve.”

God, he was romantic. She didn’t know if he was teasing or if this was the James Addison the history books had commented about. Whatever he was, she was delighted to be with him and hoped to find out everything about the infamous ‘ladies man.’ But more importantly, she wished to be the only lady he desired in this time. She took in the whole scene. This was like something out of a colonial period setting. The only thing missing were the strolling minstrels. But then, having James to herself was even better.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen a more perfect setting for a meal. It’s simple, yet as elegant as any five star restaurants. It’s absolutely beautiful.”

“I’m delighted you are pleased.” James sat down, seeming to relax a bit more. “I would like to make a toast.” He raised his glass of wine, staring at her across the candlelit table. “To your kindness, beauty, and your unique gift, Dr. Branford. You’ve given me back my life after so many years. I can never repay you for such generosity.”

The soft clink of his glass against hers made her realize how real all of this was. As she watched him take a healthy sip, everything she worried about seemed to go out the window with his smoldering gaze. This is how a man should make a woman feel.

Damn! He was good. She had to keep reminding herself this was James Addison—he was used to seducing women. But she wanted to be counted among his conquests and right now. The way her body responded to every nuance he sent her way, she could care less about right or wrong.

Dinner was amazing. The man apologized for not knowing how to cook and yet he had sliced up such a wonderful, appetizing array of delectable nibbles. She was full by the time she finished her second wedge of her aunt’s date bread. James made himself comfortable by leaning casually in his chair and feeding on a small bunch of grapes.

“Tell me about your time here in Kings Mill. I want to know everything the books didn’t say.” April leaned on her elbow, gazing at him across the candle lit table. The two glasses of wine and cozy atmosphere had mellowed her, ever so slightly.

“Not much to tell, really. I arrived here the spring of 1763. I was but twenty and two, eager to take on the new world, make something of myself. I knew I would never possess anything of my own in England. My brother Andrew inherited the lands and title. In June I purchased the land the manor and mill sit on. The man I hired, Daniel Smith, arrived from the Chesapeake area mills shortly thereafter. Together, with a few other indentured servants, we constructed the two buildings, a barracks to house my workers and planted our first crop.”

James’s eyes lit up while he talked. She knew he was remembering good times.

He talked of building his fortune with the mill. How he hired on some of the most devoted workers and enjoyed working beside them in the fields when needed. He spoke fondly of his foreman, Daniel, of the two of them overseeing most of the work. The young man had stayed on after his servitude and wanted James to help him build his house.

Although most men of his noble standing would have balked at performing such a task, James seemed to be pleased to have been asked by a former servant.

“You helped him build his house? Really?” she asked, pulling the rind from her orange wedge. Putting the orange down, she leaned forward as her professional mind broke through her wine induced mellowness. “If you bought other land, there should be records of those purchases. There should be records of servitude filed also.”

“And records of those released from servitude. I know I filed them within the system. Daniel’s paperwork should be somewhere if you need proof,” James added. “I also made sure a deed of my property was left to Daniel in case anything was to happen.

“The rise of the colonial rebellion had many loyal to the Crown securing their lands to those they could trust. I sent my attorney in London and also the one here in town, Peter Hyman, documents to secure my holdings under Daniel’s name for such an occasion. If I had to pick up arms for my King and Country, I needed to make sure the mill continued to thrive.”

April was excited about the news. “So there are other places to look possibly? Peter Hyman and even in London? I’ll let Kenneth know as soon as possible. Maybe he can set his people to find something there,” she sighed.

“Who is this Kenneth Miles you seem to agonize about?” James twirled his remaining wine in his goblet.

“He’s your distant relative from your sister, Elsbeth’s side, if what he’s told Dr. Moreland is true. Something like your fifth great nephew. Anyway, he happens to be a British billionaire with his fingers in everything from foreign trade to magazine production. He started out in construction until he developed his empire.”

“I have wealthy kin in England? What would he want here in the colonies?”

“In the United States you mean?” April laughed.

James waved his mistake off. “Well then, what would this man want to accomplish by your findings?”

“He wants entitlement to the Kings Mill site, if I can find proof of your ownership.” April shook her head.