My Plain Jane (The Lady Janies #2)(95)

“Miss Eyre,” a king’s guard said.

Helen made a move to elbow Jane in the ribs.

“Oh, yes, I was just admiring the . . . darkness.”

The guard said nothing.

“It’s lovely, in a palace. The darkness. So much more elegant than . . . regular darkness.”

“Good recovery,” Helen said.

“Follow me.” The guard turned abruptly, and Jane scurried (as much as one could scurry in that dress) to keep up.

She followed the guard down a series of corridors, and ended up in a room that was comparatively smaller than the others she’d seen so far, but still big. Behind an ornate desk stood a wall of ornate robes, and on top of those robes rested long, curly brown locks of hair, and behind all that, Jane assumed, was the king. He started to turn around, and quickly Jane darted forward and placed the signet ring on the desk. She was back in position a moment before he saw her.

She immediately curtsied and didn’t speak.

“You are from the Society?” the king said.

“Yes, Your Majesty.” Jane raised her gaze to meet the king’s. That was when she saw him. The ghost. Standing next to the king. One hand on his hip, just like the king.

“I am not fond of the Society,” the king said.

“And I am the King of Prussia,” the ghost said.

Jane tried not to smile.

“I do not believe in this ghost nonsense,” the king said, waving his hand as if brushing a fly away.

“Nor do I,” the ghost said, waving his hand as well.

Helen snorted. “He’s funny.”

The ghost then seemed to notice Jane for the first time, and a wide smile broke out on his face. “My, aren’t you a stunning creature. Tell me, have you ever been with a king?”

Jane’s cheeks went red.

“Oh my,” Helen said.

“Sire,” Jane started.

“Yes?” the king and the ghost said simultaneously.

“I can help you.” She pulled a talisman out of her satchel. It was a brooch that Wellington said most likely belonged to the tree ghost’s beloved grandmother. “But before I do, I need you to do something for me.”

The attendants in the room looked to one another uncomfortably.

“Anything,” the ghost said.

Jane ignored him. “You must know what a help and comfort the Society can be, especially given your current predicament.”

“You are quite overbearing for someone so poor and plain,” the king said.

“Who are you calling poor?” Helen said, gesturing to the myriad bows adorning Jane’s ridiculous dress. “She makes five thousand pounds a year.”

“I can be,” Jane admitted. “Please permit me to help you see the existence of ghosts.”

The king narrowed his eyes. “You mean you wish me to believe. It’s not that I don’t believe in ghosts. I just didn’t understand how bothersome they could be, until this one came along.”

The tree ghost bowed.

“Would it help to talk to him yourself? I can show him to you.” She took the Book of the Dead out of her satchel and set it on the desk. She opened it to a page she’d had tagged and read the words as Helen ducked behind her. When she had finished, the king glanced around the room, noticing nothing out of the ordinary, until he looked behind him.

There was the tree ghost, glancing around the room as well.

“I see no one,” the tree ghost said.

The king startled at hearing the ghost, and stepped backward.

“This is madness,” said the ghost. He glided over to Jane. “I would have you detained were it not for your extraordinary beauty.”

The king went from looking surprised to looking rather puzzled. He shook his head and approached the tree ghost.

“You, sir, must leave the palace at once.”

“Why would I leave my home?” the ghost said.

The king closed his eyes and took a deep breath. When he opened them, he seemed much more calm. “There is a better place for you.”

The ghost scoffed. “Better than a palace?”

The king nodded. “Better than a palace.”

“I don’t believe you. Off with his head!” The ghost flicked his hand toward the king.

The king took a step closer. “I understand you feel an attachment to this place. But you are not meant to be here, walking the grounds as a spirit.”

Suddenly, Helen stepped forward, and the king noticed her for the first time.

“Forgive me, Sire,” Jane said. “This is my . . . companion. She is also a ghost.”

Helen stared at the king. “What do you mean, he is not meant to stay here?” Helen asked.

“Sire,” Jane whispered. “Say ‘Sire.’”

“Sire,” Helen said.

The king waved his hand as if she shouldn’t be concerned about such things. Now that he had seen ghosts for himself, protocols seemed unimportant. “He is a spirit,” the king said. “Spirits are meant to move on to the next life, whatever that may be.”

“I would not mind staying with her,” the tree ghost said, raising his eyebrows and looking at Jane.

Before anyone could look surprised again, Jane spoke up.

“I am what’s known as a Beacon,” Jane said. “Ghosts are attracted to me.”