My Plain Jane (The Lady Janies #2)(98)

“They make such a handsome couple,” Miss Burns mused. She was sitting on a crate next to Miss Eyre, tapping her forefinger on her chin. “Look how age-appropriate they are. I just love it.”

Miss Eyre’s frown deepened as she elbowed her ghostly friend, but of course she passed right through.

“Now you’re just being rude,” Miss Burns said. “I’ve told you a thousand times that it’s rude to go inside ghosts.”

“Sorry,” Miss Eyre said.

Across the crate-parlor, Miss Bront? watched what to her must have looked like Miss Eyre antagonizing and apologizing to empty air.

“We’re just sitting around,” Alexander groused. “We should be doing something.”

“Like what?” Branwell paced the length of the room, his arms crossed and his brow furrowed in thought. He’d become the parson of Haworth, if Alexander recalled, and already the position had matured the boy far more than his time at the Society. Good for him.

“We need to get the ring off the king’s finger,” Miss Bront? said. “Or, rather, Mr. Mitten’s finger. Technically the king’s, but I suppose it’s under Mr. Mitten’s control.”

“Doesn’t that make it Mr. Mitten’s finger?” Branwell turned to Miss Eyre. “You were possessed. What do you think? Is it Mr. Mitten’s finger or the king’s finger?”

But before Miss Eyre could open her mouth, Miss Burns leaned forward. “Maybe we should ask Mr. Rochester. Since he was possessed the longest and made to do all sorts of things he wouldn’t normally.”

Miss Eyre, who’d been translating for the two in the room who couldn’t see ghosts, abruptly stopped. Unfortunately for her, Branwell picked up where she left off, because Miss Burns wasn’t done.

“Remember when Rowland possessed him and tried to make him marry Jane, even after being mean and manipulative?” Miss Burns shot a dark look at Rochester, the real Rochester, who’d done none of those things except as an unwitting vehicle for his dead brother’s actions.

As Branwell finished echoing Miss Burns’s words, he clamped his mouth shut and blushed furiously. “Sorry.”

Meanwhile, Miss Burns smiled, triumphant.

Mrs. Rochester was also blushing, her gaze aimed straight at the floor as though she could will away all the terrible things that had happened, including her husband’s possession.

“Can we just get back to the problem?” Miss Bront? said. “Saving England?”

“Right.” Alexander fidgeted with his gloves, because talk of talismans always made him check to ensure those gloves were firmly in place. “The king is constantly surrounded by guards, and he’s not going to let us waltz right up and take the ring off his finger.”

“Of course not,” Miss Bront? said over a cup of hot water. Everyone had a cup actually, though no one was drinking. The news about the tea had truly been a blow to the group. “Which means we need a plan. Fortunately, I have one in mind.”

Alexander was not surprised.

Miss Bront? leaned forward. “I’ve always thought that good plans need to have firm goals. So we start with the ring.”

“Everything should fall into place once the king is himself again,” Alexander agreed. “It’s just returning the king to himself that’s the problem.”

“Exactly!” Miss Bront? jumped to her feet. “So here’s my idea.”

Everyone waited. Even the Rochesters leaned forward in anticipation.

“We storm Saint James’s Palace,” Miss Bront? announced. “And Jane and Mrs. Rochester use their Beacon powers on Mr. Mitten the Ghost and ask him nicely to take off the ring.”

“That’s a fine plan,” said Mrs. Rochester, “but our Beacon powers of compulsion do not work on ghosts currently possessing someone. Otherwise I could have prevented Rowland from taking over Edward for so long. And Miss Eyre could have saved herself an incredible amount of trouble.”

Miss Bront? frowned. “But ghosts still find Beacons irresistible when they’re possessing people, right?”

“Yes,” said Rochester. “That seems to be the reason Rowland was . . . attracted . . .” He coughed. “But there seems to be something about the living body getting in the way of the compulsion.”

“All right,” Miss Eyre said, “so we can’t compel Mr. Mitten to leave the king. What’s your next plan, Charlotte?”

“Um.” Miss Bront? sat down.

“Maybe we can figure out the ring bit when we get there,” Miss Eyre said. “The answer will just come to us. Like magic.”

“There’s no such thing as magic,” Miss Burns muttered.

Everyone (except Miss Bront? and Rochester) looked at the ghost.

“I mean that kind of magic.” She rolled her eyes.

“Anyway,” Miss Eyre said, “we’ll figure it out when we get there. I think we need to discuss how to storm the castle—”

“Technically it’s a palace.” That was Miss Bront?, of course.

“It looks like a castle.” Miss Eyre crossed her arms.

“It’s a palace that looks like a castle, but really it’s a palace.” Miss Bront? looked to Alexander, as though asking for help.

“Let’s get back on track,” he suggested. “I’d also like to propose that we don’t need to storm the, ah, palace or castle, whatever you want to call it. After all, Miss Eyre, doesn’t everyone believe you’re still part of the Society? You can request an audience with the king.”