Suitors and Sabotage(52)

“Yes. Excellent, yes. I stared at it forever and a day and didn’t see. Thank you.”

“My pleasure,” Imogene said with a warm smile. She lifted her head to stare back at him, and they continued to do so—locked in each other’s gaze—for several moments. While Ben would have been quite content to stay that way for an eternity or two, he could see that Imogene was starting to color up. He winked and lowered his eyes to the papers once again.

“Did you ask?” Emily asked as she walked through the door, directing her query toward Imogene.

“Ask what?” Ben frowned, watching Emily take the chair opposite in a graceful descent.

“Were you haunted last night?” She bounced her brows and grinned.

Snorting a laugh, Ben nodded. “It was a rather pathetic attempt, but it was amusing.”

“What was pathetic?”

Looking up at the door again, Ben sighed inwardly. Gone was his quiet time with Imogene. “Your haunting abilities,” Ben said to Jake … and Percy, who was at his side.

Moving to stand in front of the fire, Jake rubbed his hands. “Wasn’t me.” He chuckled and then looked over his shoulder at Percy. “We decided to wait. Give it a day or two.” Then turning toward Ben: “It seemed too obvious to try to scare you the very first day you took up residence.”

“Too obvious by far,” Ben agreed.

“It wasn’t me,” Percy said as he draped himself over the back of Imogene’s wingback chair. “Thought it best to regale you with a ghoulish tale or two first—a dismembered body hidden under the floorboards or some such. Build it up, lots of drama … and then scare the pants off you.”

Ben frowned. “Really?”

“Yes, really.” Jake looked over Ben’s head. “You know, I believe this to be a better setting for our play. Yes, indeed. We could put chairs at that end, with the stage at the other. I think I have hit upon a most splendid idea. What think you, Imogene? Wouldn’t this work better than the music room?”

“Far better.” Clearly pleased at being consulted, Imogene stood with a smile, placing Ben’s sketches on the seat behind her. “I think the other way around might work better, though, as the door would be a perfect way for the actors to enter and exit the stage.” Leaving Ben still sitting, she wandered the room with Jake and Percy, discussing the ramifications of the setting.

“Is anything amiss?” Emily stared at him with a puckered brow.

“Do you believe Jake and Percy, in regard to haunting the tower room?”

“There was an odd tone of sincerity to their denials. Something I seldom hear.”

“Hmmm. I thought so, too.” He turned his gaze to the glowing embers of the fire.

“Why is that a problem?”

“Well, someone tried to scare us. Moaning and howling for several hours. And if it wasn’t Jake or Percy, who was it?”

“The ghost?” Emily said with a laugh.

“Since I don’t believe in its existence, I am going to have to look a little further.”

“To where?”

“That, my dear Emily, is the cause of my consternation. I know not.” Looking up from the fire, Ben noticed that Emily was reddening like a beet. “Are you well?” he asked.

“Yes, of course.” She swallowed. “I … I … I think I will ask Imogene if she has any ideas about our culprit.” And so saying, Emily stood, leaving Ben staring at the fire once again.





chapter 13


In which lamenting, ethereal creatures add to the mystery

“Excuse me, Jake, might I take Imogene away for a moment? We will be right back.” Emily held her hand out toward Imogene, taking her elbow.

Pulling Emily close, Imogene leaned toward her friend’s ear. “What—”

“Right back,” Emily called to the room, interrupting Imogene and pulling her through the door and into the corridor. She made a beeline for the large window seat on the stair landing between the ground and first floors, hauling Imogene behind her. Settling her Paris green skirts in an artful display, Emily pointed to the bench beside her.

Sitting as directed, Imogene bided her time—while her curiosity grew large.

“I am thrilled to pieces, Imogene.” Emily said in a whisper, glancing up and down the staircase. “I am having the hardest time not dancing a jig right here and now. Most unseemly, I know, but … but … well, I can hardly believe it. I have imagined it for so long, waited for a sign, and now … at last—”

Laughing softly, Imogene lifted her finger to her mouth. “Shhh. Calm, my friend. Breathe. Excellent. Now, tell me. Only slowly this time.”

“Oh, Imogene, Ben just gave me an indication of his feelings, his attachment to me. He called me his dear Emily.”

“Dear Emily?” Imogene blinked, remembering the warm look she and Ben had shared moments earlier. How was it possible? She swallowed, briefly closed her eyes, and lifted her cheeks into an inane smile—countermanded by a sharp shake of her head. The incongruity was lost on Emily, who had turned her gaze to the carpet.

Imogene was both baffled and frustrated. It would appear that she was entirely inept at understanding the meaning of a young gentleman’s glance.… But words, well, there was no misunderstanding them. “Ben said—”