Mine Till Midnight (The Hathaways #1)(51)

Beatrix pulled a glass slide from the front of the lamp casing, laid it aside carefully, and reached for another. "This one's my favorite? she was saying to Poppy, as she slid the next image in place.

Having lost interest in the succession of pictures on the wall, Amelia did not look up. Her attention remained on Win's embroidering. But Win made an uncharacteristic slip, the needle jabbing into the soft flesh of her forefinger. A scarlet drop of blood welled.

"Oh, Win? Amelia murmured.

Win, however, didn't react to the pinprick. She didn't even seem to have noticed it. Frowning, Amelia glanced at her sister's still face and followed her gaze to the opposite wall.

The image cast by the magic lantern was a winter scene, with a snow-blurred sky and the dark cache of forest beneath. It would have been an unremarkable scene, except for the delicate outline of a woman's face that seemed to emerge from the shadows.

A familiar face.

As Amelia stared, transfixed, the spectral features seemed to gain dimension and substance until it seemed almost as if she could reach out and shape her fingers against the waxing contours.

"Laura," she heard Win breathe.

It was the girl Leo had loved. The face was unmistakable. Amelia's first coherent thought was that Beatrix and Poppy must be playing some horrid joke. But as she looked at the pair on the floor, chatting together innocently, she perceived at once that they didn't even see the dead girl's image. Nor did Merripen, who was watching Win with a questioning frown.

By the time Amelia's gaze shot once more to the projection, the face had disappeared.

Beatrix pulled the slide from the magic lantern. She fell back with a little cry as Leo charged toward her and made a grab for the slide.

"Give it to me," Leo said, more an animal growl than a human voice. His face was blanched and contorted, his body knotted with panic. He hunched over the little piece of painted glass and stared through it as if it were a tiny window into hell. Fumbling with the magic lantern, Leo nearly overset it as he tried to jam the slide back in.

"Don't, you'll break it!" Beatrix cried in bewilderment. "Leo, what are you doing?"

"Leo," Amelia managed to say, "you'll cause a fire. Careful."

"What is it?" Poppy demanded, looking bewildered. "What's happening?"

The glass fell into place, and the winter scene flickered on the wall once more.

Snow, sky, forest.

Nothing else.

"Come back," Leo muttered feverishly, rattling the lantern. "Come back. Come back."

"You're frightening me, Leo," Beatrix accused, hopping up and speeding to Amelia. "What's the matter with him?"

"Leo's foxed, that's all." Amelia said distractedly. "You know how he is when he's had too much to drink."

"He's never been like this before."

"It's time for bed," Win remarked. Worry seeped through her voice like a watermark on fine paper. "Let's go upstairs, Beatrix?Poppy? She glanced at Merripen, who stood at once.

"But Leo's going to break my lantern," Beatrix exclaimed. "Leo, do stop, you're bending the sides!"

Since their brother was apparently beyond hearing or comprehension, Win and Merripen efficiently whisked the younger girls from the room. A questioning murmur from Merripen, and Win replied softly that she would explain in a moment.

When everyone had gone and the sounds of voices had faded from the hallway, Amelia spoke carefully.

"I saw her, too, Leo. So did Win."

Her brother didn't look at her, but his hands stilled on the lantern. After a moment he removed the slide and put it back in again. His hands were shaking. The sight of such raw misery was difficult to bear. Amelia stood and approached him. "Leo, please talk to me. Please?

"Leave me alone." He half shielded his face from her regard, palm turned outward.

"Someone has to stay with you." The room was getting colder. A tremor began at the top of Amelia's spine and worked downward.

"I'm fine." A few stunted breaths. With a titanic effort Leo lowered his hand and stared at her with strange light eyes. "I'm fine, Amelia. I just need ... I want... a little time alone."

"But I want to talk about what we saw right in front of us."

"It was nothing." He was sounding calmer by the second. "It was an illusion."

"It was Laura's face. You and Win and I all saw it!"

"We all saw the same shadow." The barest hint of wry amusement edged his lips. "Come, sis, you're too rational to believe in ghosts."

"Yes, but? She was reassured by the familiar mockery in his tone. And yet she didn't like the way he kept one hand on the lamp.

"Go on," he urged gently. "As you said, it's late. You need to rest. I'll be all right."

Amelia hesitated, her arms chilled and stinging beneath the sleeves of her gown. "If you really want?

"Yes. Go on."

She did, reluctantly. A draft from somewhere seemed to rush past her as she left the room. She hadn't intended to close the door fully, but it snapped shut like the jaws of a hungry animal.

It was difficult to make herself walk away. She wanted to protect her brother from something. She just didn't know what it was. After reaching her room, Amelia changed into her favorite nightgown. The white flannel was thick and shrunken from many washings, the high collar and long sleeves textured with white-work embroidery that Win had done. The chill she had taken downstairs was slow to fade, even after she had crawled beneath the bedclothes and curled tightly into a ball. She should have thought to light a fire at the hearth. She should do it now, to make the room warmer, but the idea of climbing out of bed was not appealing in the least.