Page 9 of Lady Tamsyn and the Pixie's Curse
“Tamsyn.”
“It’s aprettyname.”
“Thank you.” She let her gaze wander back towards the castle walls. “You’re Paul Hambly,aren’tyou?”
“Yes.” He sat quietly for a moment, before leaning in to look at her face. Are you feeling all right?” he asked. “You look . . .upset.”
“I . . . I feel a little strange.” It was her first encounter with a ghost after all. “This is a strange place,isn’tit?”
He sighed. “Yes. A lot of people say so. But Cornwall is full ofdifferenttales.”
She knew that to be true. Even back in Truro they had a haunted inn and her mother’s physician swore that the ghostly figure of a woman carrying a baby appeared to him every time he entered a certainhouse.
“Tamsyn?”
“Yes?”
“Are you afraid of newthings?”
She thought of her resistance to the move to this place, of her odd reticence when her sisters talked excitedly of going to London for the Season. “Sometimes.”
“Oh. Well, maybe you’ll remember somethingforme?”
Shenodded.
“Many strange things do go on here—but they are notallbad.”
She was touched by his earnest expression, dazed by the very fact of their conversation. She glanced back at the castle again. “I’ll try toremember.”
She turned to smile at him—but hewasgone.
* * *
He’d tried.Truly he had. But his plan for an early morning visit—and escape—from Castle Keyvnor had been thwarted by a note asking him to postpone until the afternoon. Even then, he’d been forced to cool his heels in the library while Hunt met with some London clerks. And now that they’d finally got down to business, it was taking a lifetime for Hunt and Drake to consult maps and makecopies.
Gryff answered questions, paced and hoped he wouldn’t run into any of the earl’s daughters while he was here. Not that they were not nice girls. They were, with gracious manners and pleasing natures. And not because he hadn’t noticed how elegantly Tamsyn had grown up, with new and lovely angles in her face to go with that pointed chin and new, delicious curves to tempt a man’shands.
Because he had. Oh, hell yes, he hadnoticed.
But they were all young ladies of the peerage now. Tamsyn was now Lady Tamsyn. As daughters of an earl they would find similarly noble and likely elegant husbands in London, and have even less use for brawny, mere misters from the Cornishbackcountry.
What did it matter, in any event? He was not in the petticoat line. All he wanted was to make it safely out of here and home. Once there he just might go into early hibernation. By next spring the ladies would be off to London and it would be safe to leaveLancarrow.
Behind him, Drake sighed and set down his pen. “There. That’s all of it. Thank you for your patience,Cardew.”
Gryffnodded.
“I hope you’ll find the wait worth it,” the solicitor said, as he folded papers neatly into a file. “For the job’s nearly done. All I need is Lord Banfield’s signature and the land will be yoursoncemore.”
“And now we’ll have copies of the papers once again, our own record of both transfers.” Drake soundedrelieved.
“Thank you, gentlemen.” Gryffwasrelieved. “I appreciate yourcooperation.”
“Do you mind if I ask why you are so eager to get that parcel back?” Hunt asked. “It’s small enough, with naught but a closed quarry and a bit oftimber.”
“As a matter of fact, I’ve plans to open that quarry. Must keep the crop of young tenant lads busy, you know. But mostly I want it back due to a matter of long-standing familytradition.”
“Well, there’s no arguing with that.” Hunt grinned. “And if anyone knows it, it’s a solicitor. What is mere law against the way it’s always been done?” he askedironically.
