Page 94 of The Mistletoe Countess
“So it isn’t a figment of Lady Astley’s”—he stumbled over his words as he met her gaze again—“most remarkable imagination?”
She smiled her appreciation at his careful choice of words. “I do have an overzealous imagination, but I rarely see things that aren’t there. I only pretend to.” She smoothed her palms across her waist. “I plan to search for our ghost again tonight and would be ever so grateful if you’d join me. If not, I’ll have to enlist the services of Brandon again, and I’m fairly certain he’d rather not be party to another ghost hunt.”
Brandon coughed, something he seemed to do quite often, if she thought about it.
Frederick took a great deal of time to resurrect a response. “I’ll be happy to take over my butler’s place as your sleuthing partner.”
“Sleuthing partner. It sounds much more delightful when you say it.” Grace braided her hands in front of her and brought them to her chin. “But I think I’ve sorted out the mystery of our ghost, and I hope to uncover the truth tonight.”
Frederick had envisioned many opportunities in his life, but sneaking through the east wing in search of a ghost? He’d never even remotely imagined something this bizarre. Of course he’d never expected his life to have Grace in it, and Grace changed everything.
He held the lantern ahead of them with one hand and Grace’s hand with the other as they entered the Morning Room. Whether from Grace’s influence or the memory of his brother’s body, a cold sweat broke out over Frederick’s skin. Ghosts didn’t have to float into view to impact a life. Sometimes they haunted thoughts and memories.
At the recollection of the hastily scrawled note, Frederick’s throat tightened. Edward had forgiven him. Believed in him even, as Grace had said. Some lost piece within Frederick’s heart emerged from hiding to make his heart whole again.
“The last time she came from the hallway.”
Frederick shook away the gathering tears and looked down at his wife. “She?”
“From the timbre of the moan and the flow of the skirts, our ghost is female.”
His gaze shot to the ceiling, laughter tickling to release the tension. “Of course she is.”
“Doubt as you may, Husband dearest, but I can assure you I’m more educated about ghosts than you are,” she whispered, her eyes glinting in the golden lantern light.
He held her gaze, hoping his touch, his expression somehow communicated how much she meant to him. “I have no doubt, darling.”
“I love it when you call medarling.”Her grin surfaced. “You always say it so sweetly, as if you like it, even when you’re doubting my clearheadedness.”
Despite the gloomy theme to the room, his smile spread, and he placed a kiss on Grace’s head. “I like you, clearheaded or not.”
“I’m ever so glad you do, since we are bound to each other for all eternity.”
Being bound to her was one of his favorite activities.
They moved around the room in tandem, steps quiet. And then he heard it. A swelling moan, rising from the deep recesses of the wing. He nearly dropped the lantern, his gaze searching the shadows. The moan rose again. He pushed Grace behind him and searched the darkness for the origin of the eerie sound.
“Blow out the lantern” Grace whispered from behind him.
“What?”
“If it’s a real ghost, the lantern light will keep us from seeing clearly.
If it isn’t, the light may cause her to stay away.”
“Grace, I don’t—”
“There’s enough moonlight to help us.” She ducked beneath his arm and blew out the flame.
The sound emerged again. Closer. His eyes adjusted to the moon’s glow from the windows, and he reached back to wrap his fingers through Grace’s, keeping her near. Safe. Or as safe as a ghost hunt could keep anyone.
A white flutter of cloth slipped in and out of his periphery through the room they passed to their left. Frederick’s blood went cold. He pressed Grace back against the wall, shielding her as he peeked around the doorframe.
“Isn’t this romantic?” Grace’s whisper pulled his gaze to her face. She was almost smiling. “You’re ever so good at protecting me.”
Frederick drew a blank for response, so he switched his attention back to the room, but the ghost was gone.
Her moan rose from the adjoining room.
