Someone to Love

by Jude Deveraux

Jace looked down at her and seemed to be debating what to tell her. After a while, he looked back out the window and said, “Yes, it does.”

  Nigh started to ask more questions, but he turned to her with a scowl on his face.

  “That’s it. That’s all I’m telling you and if you want to keep this so-called job, you won’t ask me any more questions. I’m cold. I’m going down.” He turned and started down the stairs.

  Behind him, Nigh smiled. She felt as though she’d just won an award. She had pierced his armor! It was a tiny hole she’d made in it, but she’d widen it.

  If she knew how to whistle, she would have whistled as she skipped down the old stairs, and when she got back into the chintz room, she was smiling.

  “I was right. We must find Danny Longstreet,” Jace said.

  “You mean his grave?”

  “His last place of residence, or the place he loved. Something about him. But we need to find him.”

  “Good idea,” Nigh said. “But what’s made you so fierce about it?”

  “This.” He turned his laptop around so she could see the screen. In big red letters, it said, Find Danny Longstreet.

  Nigh rubbed her forearms because the hairs had stood up on them. “I guess that’s clear enough.”

  “What do you know about him, other than his death and illegitimate child?”

  “That’s about it. What I know comes from the vicar’s diary. He didn’t write anything about Danny until he told of his death, then he backtracked and told about the baby that was being raised in Margate by its mother. It’s been years since I read it, so I don’t remember if he told where Danny was living at the time. I know that after Ann died, Danny’s father didn’t buy Priory House.” She shook her head. “Sorry. I don’t know any more than that.”

  “Where’s the diary?

  “Guess.”

  “In your house, the one that’s surrounded by paranormals with machines.”

  Nigh’s head came up. “Did you ever think of—”

  “So help me, if you suggest that I allow those charlatans into Ann’s room to muck about, I’m going to toss you out in the rain, from that window.”

  Nigh blinked at him. “Good thing you’re not in love with her.”

  “Would you cut that out? You cannot be in love with someone you’ve ‘met’ three times.”

  For a moment they looked at each other, then Jace looked down at the computer.

  “I’ll call Jerry,” Nigh said. “Maybe he’ll know something about his ancestor. What?” she asked when Jace started shaking his head in wonder.

  “Only in England,” he said, “would someone know that far back on his family tree.”

  “If he knows, it’s my guess it’s because Danny’s father had bags of money, but his descendants have none. Wonder what happened to it? Gambling? Racehorses?”

  “My guess is women,” Jace said, then saw one of the glass bottles fall off the dressing table and hit the floor.

  “Don’t do that!” Nigh said to the room at large. “Maybe he can take seeing ghosts, but I have a weak heart.”

  Jace picked up the telephone on the bedside table and held it out to Nigh. “If Longstreet’s not home, you’ll probably reach him at your house.”

  “Funny,” Nigh said. “You’re a real scream.”

  She called information, got the number for Longstreet’s Garage, then pushed the buttons. Jerry answered on the fourth ring.

  “Jerry? This is Nigh. Remember me?”

  “Nightingale, baby, honey, of course I remember you.”

  Even though she put the receiver close to her ear, Jerry spoke as loudly as if he were standing in the room, and she knew that Jace could hear every word. She turned her back to him.

  “I have a question for you,” she said.

  “Oh, sweetheart, I have some questions for you too. And some ideas about this new business you started. I was thinking of a ghost car. One of those big American things with the fins. I could fix it up for you so it would scream when you sat down in it. Like the idea?”

  “Love it,” Nigh said. “We’ll have to discuss it in detail. What I wanted to ask you about was an ancestor of yours, Danny Longstreet.”

  “Randy Danny?”

  At the derogatory term, she looked back at Jace just in time to see one of the ceramic figures start to slide off the mantel. Jace caught it before it hit the floor.

  “Listen, Jerry,” she continued, “do you know where Danny was living when he died?”

  “Oh yeah. A house named Tolben Hall. It’s in Hampshire. It’s a B and B now. My mother used to tell us kids that that house should have been ours. Danny’s father bought it after he had to get his son out of Margate. Danny left too many bastards behind. It was too hot for them to stay here.”

  Jace caught another figure before it hit the floor, but he couldn’t catch one of the perfume bottles that went flying off the dressing table.

  “What was that?” Jerry asked.

  “Nothing. Rain hitting the window.”

  “So, Nigh, honey, when am I gonna see you again? I’ve missed you. Seen you on TV some, but that ain’t the same as a little snog in the backseat, now is it? You still got that heart-shaped mole on—”

  “Jerry!” Nigh said loudly. “You’ve been a really big help, and I can’t thank you enough. I’ll see you, uh, sometime, I’m sure. Say hello to, uh, whoever your girlfriend is now.”

  “Ain’t got one.”

  “I know,” Nigh said tiredly. “You don’t have one, you have a hundred.”

  “You do remember me, honey bear. Give me a call about that car. I think it’ll be a hit at your Ghost Center.”

  She said good-bye, then hung up—and dreaded the look on Jace’s face.

  But he was at his computer and didn’t look up. “Here it is. Tolben Hall in Hampshire. Shall I give them a call?”

  “Sure,” Nigh said tentatively, waiting for him to say something. “About Jerry…”

  “None of my business,” he said, concentrating on the screen.

  “It’s just that we dated in school, and we were friends, that’s all. And now because of you and this Ghost Center—”

  “You made that up, not me.”

  “All right, my Ghost Center, then. He’s pretty excited about it and, well…”

  Jace looked up from the computer. “We’ll stay at this place and have a look around. Like the idea?”

  She held out the bulky gray fabric of the sweatpants she was wearing. “Unless I go back to my house, this is all I have to wear.”

  He looked at her. “That is a problem. Think you could slip in the back door of your house and get some clothes?”

  “And not be seen? Not even in the middle of the night.”

  “Hey! I know. Why don’t you call your landlord and ask him to get some things for you. He must have a key.”

  She looked at him as though he was daft. “You are my landlord.”

  “You’re kidding.”

  “Do you really not know that? Why in the world did you buy this enormous house that you obviously know nothing about?” She’d meant it as a rhetorical question, but the look on his face made her know she had made yet another dent in his armor.

  Before she could say anything, they heard a sound from downstairs. Voices.

  “You don’t think Mrs. Browne has let them in, do you?” Jace asked.

  “She’s probably angry about that remark you made about shooting the English.”

  “Or she’s angry because she thinks you’re showing off your heart-shaped birthmark to yet another man.”

  “I knew you were going to badger me about that. Danny is full of himself, but he can be a lot of fun. At least he knows how to laugh.”

  “Jerry.”

  “What?”

  “You said Danny.”

  “No, I didn’t.”

  They stopped talking because they heard footsteps on the stairs. “Someone is coming to get us,” Jace said. “One of us is going to have to face the l
ot of them and confess that you made up the whole thing about the Ghost Center.”

  “I just asked questions. You made it real when you told people you’d be hiring.”

  “No, I told them you would be hiring.”

  The steps were getting closer and they could hear more voices.

  “You go on ahead. I’m going to get some things and I’ll meet you at my car,” he said.

  “If you can get it out.”

  “Don’t worry. Mick will have the garage open and ready for us to go.”

  Nigh ran to get the hidden staircase open, then motioned to Jace to hurry up. She wasn’t going without him. He tucked his laptop and cord under his arm, then followed her onto the stair landing. It was pitch-black in the staircase with the door closed, and it took minutes to make sure the door was securely closed. They could hear someone pounding on the door of the bedroom.

  “I can’t see a thing,” Jace said. “Where are the candles and matches?”

  “At the other end of the tunnel.”

  “That’s clever.”

  “I was nine when I set it up,” she said. “What do you expect? Electricity?”

  “I just hope the damned timbers hold for one last dash. Ow!”

  “You’re too tall. Duck!”

  “No, I’m not too tall, the ceiling is too short.”

  “Take my hand,” Nigh said, fumbling behind her as she hurried along the dark, dank dirt tunnel. She felt his chest and even his arm, but she couldn’t find his hand. She stopped, then put both hands out to find his. It was a full minute before she realized he was deliberately preventing her from finding his hand.

  “I’ve spent hours locked away in a bedroom with you today and now you want to play sex games? Give me your hand and let’s get out of here. One of those psychics might be real and tell people where we are.”

  Chuckling, Jace gave her his hand and they hurried to the end of the tunnel. It was early afternoon, but the rain made the sky gray and fog gave them cover. Jace tucked his computer under his sweatshirt and started running, Nigh close on his heels. They had to stop twice and hide from people who were now swarming over the grounds.

  “Don’t you people have trespassing laws?” Jace hissed at her once. Before she could answer, he grabbed her hand and started running so fast that she nearly fell, but he dragged her upright and they kept going.

  Just as Jace said, when they reached the garage, the door was open and the car running. Mick stood just inside the garage door. “Hatch saw you coming,” Mick said, “and he knew where you were going. He told me to clear the way for you.”

  He looked at Nigh. “Take the old road to the highway,” Mick said and she nodded. “I don’t know what it’s like. We heard some crashes today, so you may have some trouble.”

  When they got to the Range Rover, Nigh asked politely if she could drive.

  “Think you can handle it?” Jace asked.

  Mick was on the far side of Jace and he raised his eyebrows at Jace’s question. “She can!” he yelled before shutting the door.

  “All buckled up?” Nigh asked, her voice calm as she backed the big, heavy car out of the garage.

  As soon as the people saw them, they started running. Some of them ran toward Jace’s Rover, but some ran back to the front of the house to get their cars to pursue them.

  The back road into Priory House was a service road, and it was, at best, full of potholes and whatever had fallen onto it. As Mick had warned, today’s rain had brought down several tree branches. The first one that Nigh hit, Jace yelled at her to watch out, but she went over it easily, even if his head did hit the roof.

  When they saw a car coming toward them, Nigh didn’t hesitate as she turned a sharp right and headed for the steep bank of a stream. She had to move fast. If she slowed down, she knew the vehicle would get stuck.

  After his first shout of warning, Jace said nothing but watched where she was headed. “Right!” he yelled one time. “Cut your wheel to the right.” He had seen some jagged, tire-slashing rocks that she hadn’t. She turned hard and missed the rocks.

  When they went up the bank of the stream, they were at a forty-five-degree angle, like sitting in your seat when a jet takes off. “Good” was all Jace said when they were back on flat land.

  They came to a fenced pasture and Nigh drove the car through the wire. There were sheep around them, looking up placidly as they chewed.

  “My sheep?” Jace asked as he held onto the handle above the window.

  “Your pasture, but you rent it to the shepherd.”

  “Nice to know,” Jace said as they banged over a solid rock surface. He drew his breath in sharply when he couldn’t see the other side of the rock. For all he knew, it was a sheer dropoff.

  But it wasn’t. The car bounced when it hit the ground, ran over a bumpy cattle guard, then leveled out onto a gravel road.

  The relatively quiet and smooth ride was the calm after the storm. Jace took a few deep breaths and tried to relax. “I guess you learned to drive in your job…whatever your job is, that is.”

  “Right,” she said. “You want to take over now?” She pulled the car to the side of the gravel road and got out. For a moment she stood beside the car and took a few deep breaths.

  Jace came to stand beside her. When he saw she was trembling, he pulled her into his arms and held her for a moment. “Okay?”

  “I’m fine,” she said, but she liked being this close to him. He smelled of wood smoke from the fireplace and he was damp from the rain. She wanted to curl up next to him and stay there for a long time.

  Jace knew that the hug had turned from paternal to something else, so he pushed her away. “Ready to go? If we don’t leave now, one of them will get a divining rod and find us.”

  She smiled, nodded, then got into the passenger side of the car.

  They rode in silence until they reached the highway, then Nigh gave him directions on how to head toward the county of Hampshire.

  “Is there a city near here where we can stop?” Jace asked. “I need to call the B and B and we need to get some clothes.”

  “I don’t have my bag so my credit cards—”

  “You can pay me back later,” he said, cutting her off. He glanced at her. “You did a good job back there,” he said quietly. “I’ve never seen a woman drive like that.”

  She gave him a look.

  “Okay, I’ve never seen a man who wasn’t a professional drive like that. You must have had some training.”

  “Mmmm,” she said.

  “You aren’t going to tell me?”

  “Not until you start revealing secrets to me.”

  “But I’ve told you all about Ann,” he said in protest. “Every word.”

  “And I’m supposed to believe that she is your secret? You must think I have the intelligence of a doorstop. It’s my guess that you didn’t know anything at all about Ann Stuart or Lady Grace before you bought Priory House. Is that right?”

  “Maybe,” he said.

  “I know it’s right. Fooling with this ghost story is lagniappe, something extra, something…” She broke off and looked at his profile. “Dead. You want something from her, don’t you? You want something that only a dead person can give you, don’t you?”

  “It’s a roundabout,” he said. “You better watch for the signs or we’ll end up going around and around it for eternity.”

  “That one,” she said. “The one that says Winchester. You aren’t going to distract me from this, you know. I’ll figure it out. Did I tell you that I used to date Clive Sefton?”

  “You didn’t have to. It seems to me that you’ve dated every male in Margate.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “I don’t know, but they all seem to know where your birthmarks are.”

  “I’ll have you know that—” She stopped, then smiled. “You are not going to start a row with me just to keep me from asking questions.”

  She leaned back in the seat and smiled. She
had a good nose for a story and she knew she was on the right trail. “So we help Ann, then you hope she’ll help you, is that it?”

  “Maybe,” he said again, but this time there was a little smile at the corners of his mouth.

  12

  Did you get the reservations?” Jace asked when Nigh returned to the table in the café. He had purchased sandwiches and drinks for them while she called Tolben Hall.

  “Yes,” she said, then gave a great sigh. “I did, but there’s a problem. They had only one room available so we’ll have to share. But the owner assured me the room has a very large bed. We can put pillows down the middle. Do you snore?”

  “I’ve never been awake to find out,” Jace said, frowning.

  “Come on, Montgomery,” Nigh said, “don’t look so worried. They had two rooms, so I won’t disturb your chastity.” She sat down across from him. He was still frowning. “Would you stop it!” she said. “I’m not making a pass at you. I was making a joke. Get over it.”

  When he looked up at her, there was something in his eyes that made her sit back in her chair. “What has hurt you so much?” she whispered. “Who has hurt you?”

  “Nothing and no one,” he said, then looked back down.

  She couldn’t get him to say anything more. They were in Winchester and they had an hour before the stores closed for the day. She was embarrassed to be seen in the huge sweatpants and shirt that she was wearing, and it was difficult to ignore the stares she was receiving from people.

  “How do you want to do this shopping?” she asked. “You want to do a Pretty Woman and go together?”

  “What?” Jace asked, looking up, obviously so distracted he wasn’t understanding what she was talking about.

  She leaned her head toward his and lowered her voice so the other customers wouldn’t hear. “I apologize for making a sex joke, okay? I won’t do it again. Are you gay? Is that the problem?”

  That question brought a twinkle to his eyes and he smiled at her. “Yeah, that’s it. Gay. I don’t like women at all. I especially don’t like a sassy little woman who looks beautiful even in clothes twice her size. A woman who laughs and enjoys life and is smart and funny and is the first one to take me out of myself in three years. Yes, I’m as gay as you get. Are you finished with that? Let’s get some clothes and get out of this town.”