Page 563 of Flirting with Darkness

That, too, would have to wait until he finished with this mess in Russia.

Just like everything else in Ghost’s life.

6

THE SERVANT

Ghost changed trains in Cologne.

He changed trains again when he reached Berlin.

He got on a new train once again, not long after he landed in Königsberg.

Then he had only to wait.

After Königsberg, his next stop would be his final stop, St. Petersburg. The line ended there, perhaps even for all of Europe. Ghost would need to find lodging to spend at least two more nights in the city before he could hire a carriage out to his father’s estate for the night of the ball.

He didn’t mind.

Truthfully, he was glad of the delay.

He planned to find out all he could about his father and his castle’s workings from closer to home. Ghost laid plans already to attend a few salons in the capitol city by calling on various “friends” and “friends of friends” for the sole purpose of coaxing them into gossip. He found gossip to be the fastest and most efficient means of discerning real information among the noble classes. They were all terribly nosey, and all of them loved to share whatever they found, particularly if it cast someone powerful in a negative or embarrassing light.

Maggie and Augustine provided him with names, letters of introduction, copious notes about families, odd siblings and offspring, neighbors, political leanings, local squabbles and so forth. Basically, they gave him piles of material, likely ten times what he would need to get even one of them talking carelessly about the Count.

Add wine and food to the mix, and Ghost could probably coax them into telling him nearly anything he wished to know.

His father, after all, might be richest man in Europe apart from the Tsar.

How much more eager would they be to share their juiciest stories of his misdeeds?

Maggie, in particular, had spies throughout London, including in homes occupied by prominent members of the Russian nobility, who liked to own a house or two in London, Paris, and other western cities, assuming they could afford to keep it.

For those with the means, such a thing conveyed status.

Ghost had no doubt an additional perk lived in spying upon the ruling classes of their Tsar’s rivals, looking for leverage and intelligence.

Ghost didn’t much care about any of that.

He had never been particularly political.

He did, however, want more information about his father.

Particularly after that odd waking dream with the magicked cards.

He still carried the card the woman left him in his coat pocket, the one displaying the mystical clock. He had even taken some time to search for the woman on the train. He spent a sleepless night wondering if he had been drugged, or even conned in some way.

He wondered if he had read more into their conversation than existed.

His anxiety around the experiencestillhadn’t vanished entirely.

The sharpness of the feelings waned, yet somehow the apparition of the woman lingered with him, long past where it perhaps should have. He could still see her face hanging in the air in front of him. He could still see her sharp eyes and the warmth of her expression.

No, she was not evil.

She was good. He was sure of it.

She had been trying to help him.

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