Felicia's Spirits

by Marie Higgins

  He glanced in the other direction before withdrawing a gold pocket-watch. If he were meeting someone soon, he should seem more impatient. Instead, he appeared rather bored.

  Once more, he picked up the newspaper, blocking Felicia from seeing his face. She couldn’t wait to see what color his eyes were. The man with the wavy brown hair intrigued her for some reason—probably because he didn’t seem suspicious at all, and yet, her gut feeling told her to keep watching.

  She blew out a frustrated breath and moved around the back of the tree, mainly to stretch her legs. Leaning up against a tree for very long wasn’t comfortable. She really didn’t want to stand here any longer than was necessary. If this man was the leak in the Foreign Office, she needed to keep a close eye on him to make certain he wasn’t passing information to someone.

  “Stay away from that man.”

  Hearing the familiar voice of her spirit visitor, she swung around. A low-hanging tree branch caught a piece of her hair, tugging it out of the tight coil on the back of her head. She released a squeal and then quickly snapped her mouth shut. She couldn’t let anyone know she was hiding, and if her spirit friend was here, she definitely couldn’t have anyone overhear her speaking to them.

  Felicia grumbled under her breath as she tried to stuff the locks of hair back in place. Perhaps it was her own fault for hiding behind a tree. Then again, where else was she supposed to hide while in the park?

  But where was her spirit? She heard their voice. “I-I can’t see you,” she whispered.

  From around the tree walked a middle-aged gentleman, wearing a black top hat, black suit jacket and trousers, with a blue waist-coat and white shirt and cravat. In his hand was the ever-present walking stick. She’d seen him a few times since her youth. He was handsome, but not overly so. Not like Mr. Harrington, anyway.

  “Why do you want me to stay away from that man?” she asked in a soft voice.

  “Trust me on this.” He nodded. “That man will only cause you problems.”

  She huffed and rolled her eyes. “I’m on an assignment,” she growled in a whisper. “I must watch him and follow.” She cleared her throat and straightened her back. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to return to my assignment.”

  She swung back around to peer around the tree toward her subject... who was not there! Felicia muttered a cuss as she hurried out from under the tree. Why had she taken the time to talk to her spirit? Sometimes they gave her more problems than they helped her with.

  She glanced up the lane before quickly switching her attention in the other direction. How could Mr. Harrington be gone so quickly? She hadn’t taken her focus off him for very long.

  “Excuse me, Miss?”

  The man’s deep voice from behind made her jump and spin around. Standing in front of her was the very man she thought she’d lost. What’s he doing here?

  “Are you in trouble?” he asked. “I thought I heard you scream.”

  Startled, her mind wouldn’t work... probably because he had the most astonishing amber eyes and irresistible smile that she’d ever seen. “I, um...” Think, Felicia! “A branch caught in my hair. That’s all. Nothing devastating, I assure you.”

  He chuckled lightly. “Well, I’ve known some women who would think that having their hair messed up would be nothing short of a catastrophe.”

  His soothing voice calmed her racing heart. “Yes, I’m sure I know some of those women, as well.”

  He tilted his head, peering at the bun she had her hair wrapped into. “But it appears you were able to fix the problem.”

  Laughing uncomfortably, she patted the back of her hair. “I thank you, Sir.”

  He took a quick glance around them. “Is there a reason you’re underneath the tree?”

  Once again, her mind went black. Oh, good grief! She really needed to snap out of this. “Actually, the reason is rather silly.”

  “Do tell,” he encouraged with a grin.

  Her mind scrambled to think of something intelligent. She lifted her gaze into the tree. “I love birds, and I saw one fly into the tree.” She acted as though she was really studying the branches. “I thought I saw a pheasant.” After she’d said the word, she wanted to slap herself. Those types of birds were always in a park, so what was so special about that? “It was a golden pheasant.”

  “That would be a good reason to lurk nearby a tree.” He tilted back his head and looked up. “I don’t believe I’ve seen a golden pheasant in Devonshire. This would be a rare occasion, indeed.”

  Oh, great! Was he a bird-watcher and knew all the birds in England? What were the odds?

  “But I could have been wrong,” she said quickly. “Maybe it was just a regular pheasant and the sun’s glow touched his wings just enough to make them appear golden.”

  His gaze met hers and he nodded. “I’m sure that would have been a lovely sight. However, we are in the shade, and the sun’s ray isn’t touching you at all, but I’m looking at something even more amazing than a golden pheasant.”

  Felicia’s heart skipped a beat and heat rushed to her cheeks. “You, Sir, are a flirt.”

  He held his hands up in surrender. “You have figured me out already.”

  She chuckled, wondering if he really knew how she wanted to catch him leaking information. “I suppose we should not be in the shade together, alone, if you are an accomplished flirt.”

  His expression became serious. “I believe you’re right. I’ll leave now so we’re not spotted.” He turned away but didn’t move. After a second, he looked at her, again. “Are you here alone?”

  “No.” She glanced up the path, and thankfully, a group of older women stood together chatting. Felicia pointed to the women. “I’m with my aunt.”

  His gaze followed her direction before settling back on Felicia. “Would it be improper to ask your name?”

  “Well, I—”

  “I’m Sebastian Harrington.” He smiled wide and bowed slightly.

  “It’s a pleasure to meet another bird-lover. I’m Miss Felicia Hamill.” She curtsied.

  Sighing, he slowly shook his head. His eyes twinkled. “What an incredibly beautiful name.”

  The heat in her cheeks grew hotter. “Yes, you are certainly an accomplished flirt.”

  “And proud of it.” He winked before turning and walking away. Just as he reached the sun, he glanced back. “I hope to run into you again, Miss Hamill.”

  She smiled. Oh, believe me... you will. “As do I.”

  She kept her eyes on him as he strode up the pathway with the newspaper tucked under his arm. Coming toward Mr. Harrington was a younger man, perhaps right out of Eton. The man’s gaze shifted to Mr. Harrington. Just as they passed, Mr. Harrington reached out his hand, slipping the newspaper into the other man’s hand.

  The exchange was so fast, she wasn’t sure it really happened. But as the younger man walked by the tree, he slid the newspaper inside his overcoat.

  Now I’ve caught you, my dear Mr. Harrington.

  FIVE

  Bright and early the next morning, Sebastian whistled a joyful tune as he walked toward Lady Adler’s home. The man they’d caught sneaking out of her window was in jail, awaiting his trial. All the way to Capri’s Police Station, the thief proclaimed his innocence.

  Sebastian shook his head and chuckled. Didn’t all guilty men say that?

  And yet, something had been on Sebastian’s mind since he’d asked the man questions while standing in Lady Adler’s bedroom. Aside from the fact that it was difficult to concentrate on his job while in her room because of the scent of berries that nearly overcame his senses, he also had to listen to what the thief said. Apparently, the man had bribed Anna, the laundry maid, to let him in Felicia’s house.

  Very interesting.

  Why did the thief think someone was setting him up? He kept laying blame to the person who’d paid him. And yet, there was no money on the man’s person.

  Felicia mentioned that her room didn’t appear out of place, but n
ow since she had all this time to go through her things, he hoped she’d found something out of order. At least that might help them with some kind of lead in his case. And he was quite certain it had something to do with the jewelry thief he came all this way to find.

  Occasionally he had doubts that he was the right man for this job. After all, he’d known the suspect quite intimately four years ago. But he couldn’t bring himself to turn over this case to just anyone. Deep down inside, he still felt Felicia knew something about the missing topaz diamond ring from India. He would do his best to make her confess. After all, she needed help finding her mother. He now had something to barter with.

  He knocked on her front door, and within seconds, Lady Adler’s butler, Alberto, answered.

  “Good day, Sir,” Sebastian greeted pleasantly. “Is your mistress home? I have come to see how she’s faring after what happened yesterday.”

  The older servant nodded and let Sebastian enter. The old man pointed toward the sitting room. “If you don’t mind waiting in there, I shall fetch Señora Adler.”

  “Of course.” Sebastian strode into the room and stopped in the middle of the floor. Slowly, he skimmed every piece of furniture, every rug, and especially every painting and knick-knack. He wasn’t certain if this had all belonged to her husband, or if it was memorabilia that she had kept over the years. The urge to pick up every object in the room to study it closer became strong, so he clasped his hands behind him and rocked back on his heels.

  “Bash, you’re here.”

  Felicia’s sweet voice captured his attention. He swung his head toward her as she walked toward him. Although she smiled, he could see the underlying toll her latest hardships were having upon her.

  “Lady Adler. You look exquisite today.” Then again, he’d always liked the way her face lit up when she wore mahogany colors. The gown she wore today had a square bodice that displayed her deep cleavage. Her hair was pulled back in a chignon with tendrils brushing her dainty ears, giving him an ample view of her lovely neck.

  “Oh, Bash. You were always so generous with compliments.”

  “You know me well.”

  “Yes. I’d labeled you the accomplished flirt if I remember correctly.”

  Suddenly, their shared memory hit him. She’d called him that when they had first met. It was good to know she’d been thinking about him, too.

  “I trust you have recovered from yesterday’s incident,” he said quickly, to change the subject.

  “Which one? If you’ve forgotten, I had two incidents yesterday.”

  “Oh, yes. Your mother’s disappearance and the thief.”

  She nodded and sat on the blue and green sofa. “Would you like to join me?” She patted the empty cushion next to her.

  He really shouldn’t get that close to her, but... “Of course.” He sat beside her, but closer to the arm rest. “Have you had time to think about where your mother might be?”

  She frowned. “I’ve thought nonstop about it, but all of the people I’ve seen her with or heard her talk about are not vindictive at all.”

  “That you know about, anyway.”

  She tilted her head. “Do you think there might be someone that my mother is friends with that she hasn’t told me about?”

  “Possibly.”

  “But my mother and I are close. She tells me about everyone she meets.”

  “Unless there was a reason not to share the information with you.” He leaned closer. “Are you certain she still isn’t an agent working for Conrad Mortimer?”

  “I know for a fact she isn’t.” Felicia stood and walked to the tray holding a teapot and two cups. She gingerly ran the tip of her finger along each cup. “We visited about a week ago. She was grateful to have the time to crochet jackets and hats for her friend’s new grandbaby.” She peeked over her shoulder at him. “When my mother was an agent, she never had time to learn how to crochet, let alone make baby clothes.”

  “Hmm...” He tapped his finger against his chin and stood, narrowing his gaze on her. “And yet, you proclaimed to be an agent, and you had time to bird-watch, take walks through the park, and visit museums, and admire the paintings.”

  Perhaps he shouldn’t have spoken his thoughts so quickly. And he definitely shouldn’t have brought up the past. Unfortunately, he couldn’t let the past rest. Everything he had discovered about this woman disturbed him. Should he mention that she had the time to attend social events, and be escorted to balls by wealthy suitors?

  Her jaw hardened as she gave him a cold stare. “For your information, I was on assignment while doing all of those things. Getting to know you better was my job.”

  “My point exactly.” He moved her way and stopped in front of her. “So maybe you could be wrong about your mother still working for Mortimer?”

  Felicia rolled her eyes. “Trust me, Harrington. If my mother was still working as an agent, I would know about it.”

  He folded his arms and arched an eyebrow. “Do you want my help or not?”

  Silence grew between them for a few seconds. Her lips thinned. “I suppose I have no other choice.”

  “On the contrary. You have plenty of other choices.”

  Sebastian didn’t know if he wanted her to walk away or give into his line of questioning. However, he was tired of her always having the upper hand. That woman had a power over men she didn’t quite understand, but she played her innocence well. For once, he wanted to be the one in the lead, without feeling dumbstruck, and especially he didn’t want to feel as though he was floating on dreamless clouds with her.

  Felicia’s chest lifted slowly and then fell as her shoulders sagged. Her expression became dour. “Bash, if you don’t want to help me, just say it.” She placed a hand on his arm. “I know our past hasn’t been pleasant, but can we not just forgive and forget and move forward? I desperately need your investigative skills. I know of no other person who can do what you can.” She expelled another breath. “If you don’t wish to assist me, I shall try to understand.”

  Sebastian gritted his teeth. She’d done it again! She somehow took the situation and turned it into her favor. And she had the decency to look distressed that he didn’t want to work with her. And touching his arm so gently had been part of her plan. Obviously, she remembered that he practically melted to molasses from her tender touch.

  “I didn’t say that I wasn’t going to help you,” he said. “I just need to know if you plan on expanding your thoughts to maybe – just maybe – your mother might have been on a secret assignment. You’d mentioned you hadn’t talked to her for about a week, but what if within that time, she accepted a job?”

  She nodded. “I understand you better now. I promise to expand my mind so that I can help you. And in return,” her voice softened as she gently squeezed his arm, “I will follow through with my promise to help you find the jewel thief.”

  He chuckled and glanced at her delicate hand resting on the sleeve of his coat. The large diamond ring surrounded by red rubies on her finger reminded him of her marriage status, or in her case, her widowed status. She would never change. Felicia knew exactly how and when to charm a man.

  “Oh, my dear Felicia. I have already found the thief. All I need is the hard evidence to get her arrested.”

  Growling, she withdrew her touch. “You cannot possibly still think I’m the thief. Not after catching the man leaving the window of my bedchambers and hearing his story. He’d obviously been paid to set me up in some way.”

  Sebastian laughed harder. “Actually, I do think you are the thief, mainly because I know how clever you are.”

  “Honestly, Bash, I cannot understand why you would blame me.”

  Grinning, he shook his head. “You can’t? My dear Felicia, has it somehow slipped your mind what happened four years ago when we were in Devonshire? Does the name Monsieur Durant bring back any memories?”

  She gasped, and her eyes widened.

  “Oh, my dear, you don’t have to pretend to look
surprised. I caught onto your antics not long after I discovered a painting in my townhouse. A painting which you had placed there.”

  Huffing, she folded her arms. “Once again, Mr. Harrington, I wish you would explain yourself. You never were very clear.”

  He narrowed his gaze on her. What game was she playing now?

  “You wish me to explain more clearly? Fine. Now listen closely lest you forget something of importance.”

  She rolled her eyes.

  “If you recall,” he began the story, “we had been seeing each other off and on for about two weeks. I was actually growing quite fond of our little accidental meetings.”

  She gasped again. “They were accidental.”

  He chuckled. “If you want to think that way, I cannot stop you. Now be quiet and listen to what really happened back then.”

  As he started describing his version of the memory with the painting, everything played out in his mind as though it had happened yesterday...

  FOUR YEARS AGO

  The South Devon Museum wasn’t crowded on the day Sebastian decided to take a stroll through the halls. Of course, he’d chosen the earlier hours, mainly because he wasn’t here to pass the time by admiring the artwork deemed important enough to be displayed in the museum. Sebastian had a job to do, and this institution would help him with his current case of forgery.

  Some zealous painter was making copycats of some of the famous paintings and selling them for an astronomical amount. This particular forger enjoyed Leonardo Da Vinci. Already the police had found two paintings that had been sold as originals, but of course, were not. Sebastian had accompanied the police while they interviewed the people who’d been duped. Each one gave a different description of the man who sold the paintings. This told Sebastian that the real painter had hired others to sell the paintings for him.

  The two paintings that had been forged were The Last Supper, and Mona Lisa. He’d already analyzed the fakes, and now he tried studying the originals to see if he could guess the painter’s trick. Could this artist be that good to forge a painting perfectly? There had to be something that gave him away.