She only wanted to save his soul. He needed to save her life.
Laia Grace wasn’t raised in society, and besides, meeting men was so much fun! But when the naive Regency miss introduces herself to the wrong person, her father decides that it’s time she grew up. If only he knew that the house he was sending her to had a ghost in residence.
Marcus is haunting his own home, living in the secret passages and priest holes while he tries to deal with the horrific events that led to his brother’s death. But when an angel shows up and coaxes him into telling her his story, he discovers a reason to live.
Will he be willing to risk both his own life and his heart to save her?
My Lord Ghost
The Grace Sisters, Book 2
Meredith Bond
Copyright September, 2016 Meredith Bond
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems without permission in writing from the author, except by a reviewer, who may quote brief passages in a review.
Please visit my web site at http://www.meredithbond.com for more information.
Published by Anessa Books, www.anessabooks.com
Acknowledgements
It simply is not possible to write a book without help. I can never express my gratitude enough for my husband’s patience and never-ending support. The exceptional work of my cover artist, Kim Killion, who always comes up with the most beautiful, creative designs for my covers, and the brilliance of my editor, Chris Hall, who never once reprimanded me for all of the commas she’s had to put in and misplaced ones she’s had to take out (not to mention all of her wonderful ideas on how to make my sentences read better and fill in ideas that were in my head when I wrote the book but somehow never made it into the text itself).
Thanks also go to my exceptional beta readers Anna and Sarah Andre (herself a wonderful writer—check out her books at http://www.sarahandre.com). Thank you so much for your detailed thoughts and comments. And thanks also go to my newsletter readers who are always so kind and supportive of my work and keep me going, wanting to write more to make you all happy. You are my team. Thank you!
Merry
Chapter One
I tried to focus on the books in front of me. I tried to be interested in the latest novel from Minerva Press, but there were so many people walking by on the street just outside Hatchard’s Bookshop window, I just couldn’t concentrate.
Maybe if I looked at the nonfiction. My sister, Rose, had told me there was a new book out by Christian Thomsen, the Dutch archeologist. It sounded interesting. Of course, our father would have already bought a copy, but that just meant I wouldn’t even get a peek at it until he had finished with it. Father hated when a book he was reading disappeared before he had read it from cover to cover.
I turned to look for the book, but out of the corner of my eye, I spied the most handsome man outside the window.
Without a thought, I slipped between two other patrons, escaping the notice of my maid, Sally, and darted out the door of the bookshop—straight into the chest of Mr. Handsome. Completely unintentional, I assure you! Oh, but he smelled good! I just loved the smell of men—that combination of leather, something slightly spicy, and man. I took a deep breath.
“Oh! I am so sorry!” I exclaimed. “I am much too clumsy, not watching where I’m going. I do beg your pardon.” I lowered my eyes demurely while glancing up at him through my eyelashes. A niggling thought teased the back of my mind. My father was going to kill me. I’d been told so many times in the past three years that I shouldn’t introduce myself to men as I used to when we lived in Greece. I just couldn’t help myself. Men were so fascinating!
“Not at all, Miss,” the gentleman said with a slight bow. “Entirely my fault, I’m sure.”
I cocked my head and looked up at his lovely green eyes and tousled blond curls, ignoring the people squeezing past on the busy pathway. “Are you new in town? Oh, no, wait, I’m certain I saw you at Lady Sambourne’s soiree the other night,” I said, lying outright. I hadn’t been to Lady Sambourne’s. I hadn’t been anywhere. I wouldn’t be presented to society for another six months. I had only turned eighteen a month ago, but I looked older than I truly was and took advantage of the fact.
“Er, no,” the gentleman admitted, gently guiding me closer to the side of the building so that I wouldn’t get knocked against. He was clearly a thoughtful, kind gentleman. I liked him already. “I only arrived a few days ago. Just a quick visit to the city before I return to University in a few weeks, you know.”
“Oh, yes, of course. I’m Aglaia Grace.” I held out my hand.
Mr. Handsome looked at it for a moment. “I beg your pardon?”
“Aglaia Grace. That’s my name, although I am simply called Laia by my family. Aglaia, as I’m sure you know, is one of the graces from ancient Greek mythology. My father’s an archeologist with a sense of humor.” I smiled, inviting him to laugh at my funny name. Happily, he did with a lovely, deep little chuckle.
I couldn’t blame him for being confused at first. Proper young ladies did not introduce themselves to gentlemen. My older sister, Rose, had added her voice to our father’s, trying to break me of this horrid habit, especially since she’d gotten married and become “respectable.” But there was no one else around who could make the introduction, and I did so want to meet him. Surely, no one would find out. He would be leaving town again very soon; he’d just told me as much.
“Oh!” He looked down at the hand I was still holding out to him. He pulled himself together and took it, a smile slowly growing on his face as he bowed. “Reginald Swithin, Viscount Yardley, at your service.”
Viscount Yardley. Why did that name sound vaguely familiar? I searched my memory but came up with nothing. “I’m so happy to—”
“Yardley, there you are,” an older woman said, coming out of the bookshop behind me. Uh oh.
“Sorry, Mother, I have just been introduced to this charming young lady,” Lord Yardley answered.
The tall woman looked about, clearly searching for the person who had presented me to him.
“Er... Well, actually I introduced myself,” I admitted sheepishly. At least I was honest, if not properly behaved.
“Oh, yes. That wasn’t clear from what I said, was it?” Yardley laughed.
The woman’s eyebrows rose in surprise. Her chin lifted as she took advantage of her height to stare down her nose at me. Before she could utter a word, however, Sally popped out of the bookshop, squeezing around Viscount Yardley’s mother, who was still blocking the doorway. “Miss Grace! There you are,” Sally said. She stopped abruptly upon seeing that I was engaged in conversation. “We, um, we really should be going, Miss. Your father will be wondering where you are,” she stammered, looking from Lord Yardley to his mother and back again.
“Yes. Thank you, Sally.” I gave a quick curtsey to Yardley and his mother and then preceded Sally down the street.
Never had I wished for my father’s carriage so much as I did just then. It would have looked so much better if I’d had it that day.
It wasn’t so much that I wanted to impress Lord Yardley, although that would have been nice. But honestly, the way his mother had looked down her nose at me made my hackles rise. Just who did she think she was?
“The Duchess of Bromfield? You introduced yourself to the Duchess of Bromfield?” my older sister nearly shouted.
“No!” I replied, trying my best not to match my sister’s tone or volume. “I introduced myself to Lord Yardley. Who is the Duchess of Bromfield? And why are you yelling at me?”
Papa collapsed into his chair with a groan. He shoved his curling, gray hair back from his eyes wher
e it had fallen, as it always did when it was too long, which was almost all the time.
Rose closed her eyes for a moment and took a deep, calming breath. When she opened her bright green eyes once again, they could have pierced me like a needle. “Lord Yardley’s mother is the Duchess of Bromfield. Not only that, she is one of the biggest gossips in town, next to Lady Jersey. And don’t even get me started on what happens when the two of them get together, which they do frequently.”
My arms turned to goose flesh. I rubbed my hands up and down, trying to warm myself, despite the fact that it was probably the warmest October we had in a long time.
I had been happily surprised by Rose’s visit and confused as to why I’d been called into my father’s study to speak to them both. We’d only just gotten past the pleasantries, when Rose had asked me where I’d been the previous day and what I’d done. I thought she was just being polite. I hadn’t realized that she’d known the answer to the questions before I’d even told her the whole story.
Papa stood and moved around behind his desk. Shuffling some papers, he was clearly looking for something. He finally let out an “Ah ha!” and lifted up a page. “Marshfield,” he said decisively.
“What?” Rose and I asked in unison.
I stifled a giggle.
“That is where you’ll be going. Marshfield,” my father said, looking straight at me.
The cold I’d been feeling intensified, and all thoughts of laughter flew from my mind.
“It’s an estate in Yorkshire,” he explained. “My solicitor just wrote me and said that I’d inherited it from some distant cousin named Bolingbrook. Been dead these past few months, but it’s taken them that long to track down some relation, er, that would be me.”
I dropped into the chair my father had just vacated. “You want to send me to Yorkshire?”
“That’s not a bad idea,” Rose said slowly, thinking it through.
“Yes, it is!” I protested immediately.
“Actually, that might just do the trick. Fix her reputation before Lady Bromfield can really dig her claws into it,” my sister mused, as if I hadn’t said a word. “For how long do you suppose, Papa? A month? Three?”
“I’m thinking until her debut,” he answered. “She should go as soon as possible before, as you say, Lady Bromfield can do any more damage.”
“No! You can’t just send me away.” Tears pricked my eyes. I turned to Rose, who stood there looking slightly pained but nodding her agreement. “Rose…” I pleaded. How could she agree with him? Why didn’t she defend me? Tell him that this was a horrid idea? She’d never had any qualms about arguing with our father before.
My sister looked at me, and for a moment, I thought she’d stand up for me. But after a slight hesitation, she just shook her head. “I’m sorry, Laia, really I am, but I think Papa is making the right decision. I’ll do what I can here to nip any gossip in the bud.”
No! “I promise I won’t speak to any more strangers. I’ll even go on visits with Rose to prove that I can behave. Just don’t send me—”
“It’s not just the strangers,” my father said, interrupting. “It’s… It’s everything. You are too bold. Too outgoing. Too forthright.”
“High strung,” Rose offered.
“Yes,” my father agreed. “Too high strung. You need to calm down. Think before you act. Visits may simply exacerbate the problem. Not solve it.” He put the paper down among the mess on his desk. “No, Laia, you need to grow up.”
My throat grew thick with tears. I could barely get the words out, but finally I asked, “And how do you believe that sending me away will make me do that?” A horrible thought crossed my mind. I swallowed hard. “There isn’t some harridan of a companion or governess there who I must answer to, is there?”
“No. Although, I almost wish there was,” Papa answered, walking slowly over to the sideboard as if it were an effort to go just that far.
“Then how do you expect me to mature… on my own, away from anyone I know?” I asked. None of this was making any sense. Was it the shock? Was I just being slow?
My father sighed. “I believe some time alone, in contemplation of all that you know, all that you have learned about how to behave, will be enough.” He poured himself a drink even though it was only just past lunch. “You are an intelligent girl, Laia. I know that you will be able—with some quiet introspection—to figure this out.”
“You know how to behave properly, you just don’t,” Rose agreed.
I opened my mouth to argue again, but my father held up his hand, forestalling my words. “That’s enough. This conversation is finished. You will go to Marshfield. You will do what you must, and you will return in six months’ time ready for your debut. That is final.”
Tears I could no longer hold back leaked from my eyes. I blinked rapidly, trying to dispel them. “But Yorkshire!”
“It’s far, I agree, but I think it will be good for you to get away from town for a little while,” my father explained before finishing off the brandy in his glass. “I don’t know what sort of condition the estate is in, so you might very well find yourself occupied with setting the place to rights. With your extensive experience in helping your mother manage our archeological sites, you won’t have too much trouble figuring things out. There is a steward, so I’m told, so you won’t have to do everything on your own. And a staff, I believe. I will inform them of your imminent arrival.” He put down his glass with finality. “You have one week to get there. I’ll tell the butler that if he doesn’t see you in that amount time to write immediately.”
I took one last look at my sister in a desperate hope that she would intervene, but Rose just kept her eyes down. She wouldn’t even meet my gaze.
I tried swallowing past the lump in my throat again. I had no choice. I had to go to this godforsaken place. Never in my life had I felt so betrayed. So abandoned.
I was doing my best not to let my tears fall into my trunk as I placed one of my favorite dresses on top of the stack. Sally came up behind me and added my riding habit.
“Yes, I suppose I will be needing that quite a lot out in the country,” I commented. Sally said nothing, just gave me a look that was so full of pity, I had to fight my tears once more.
“Laia, how could he?” My younger sister, Thalia, barged into my room, sending the door slamming against the chair that sat in front of my dressing table.
My hard-won composure failed me, and I burst into tears.
Thalia was by my side in a moment, taking me into her arms. She wasn’t normally one for outward displays of affection, but she wasn’t immune to my tears either. “Hush, hush,” she murmured into my hair. For once, I was glad she had grown taller than me. There was nothing so comforting as being able to rest my head on her shoulder. It was almost as if I were being held by our mother.
This thought only made me cry even harder. “If Mama had been here…” I hiccoughed.
When Mama died three years ago, we’d come back to England from our archeological site in Greece. It had been difficult, but we’d been together and that had been enough. Now…
“Shhhh…” Thalia said, holding me even tighter. After a moment, I could feel her nod. “She never would have allowed Papa to send you away like this.”
“She… she would have been with me so… so I wouldn’t have had to intro… introduce myself,” I said, trying hard to stop the sobs that made talking and breathing so difficult.
Thalia giggled. “Yes, that’s true too.”
“I can’t help it,” I said, finally regaining control. I pulled back from my sister.
“I know. You simply like men.”
“I do. I like talking to them.”
“And flirting with them,” Thalia said with a knowing smile.
I shrugged and tried hard to keep my own smile from my lips.
“And Rose knows this too,” Thalia said. “She should know that you meant no harm.”
I wiped the tears from my face and move
d away from my bed so that Sally could have easier access to my trunk to complete my packing. “It’s not her fault, I suppose. I introduced myself to the wrong person.”
“Still, she should have defended you. She should have—” Thalia stopped and pressed her lips together, clearly trying to contain her anger.
“I’ll be back, Thalia. I’ll prove to Papa that I am an adult and know better.”
“I know you will.” She paused and then added with a slight hitch in her voice, “I’ll just miss you so much!”
Now it was my turn to comfort her. I knew my sister and she never cried. Just holding her was enough, although it was hard to say who was holding who, we clutched at each other so tightly. We’d never been apart, and while my little sister annoyed me beyond belief sometimes, I still loved her with all my heart. It was not going to be easy being away from her.
Chapter Two
At the sound of a carriage, I moved to the window. I could see enough to start at the woman descending from the vehicle.
Rachel! My heart beat with her name. My Rachel had returned… But no… This woman had gleaming reddish-brown hair, not my Rachel’s silky blonde. And she seemed to be shorter, more slender and delicate. Rachel had lovely curves. This woman was more… petite. Beautiful, if one were interested. I wasn’t. I felt nothing.
I wondered how long she would stay. Given the look of her, I’d say about a day and then she’d be gone, screaming or shaking with fright like the rest of them.
And if she wasn’t? Then I’d have to do something, I supposed. I couldn’t have a stranger living here. I wouldn’t be able to stand it.
I followed Sally down from the coach and stretched toward the sky. Oh my goodness, but it felt good to be out of that stifling carriage! I hated traveling and we’d been on the road for four days now.
My Lord Ghost Page 1