Conquered by the Ghost

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Conquered by the Ghost Page 15

by Pippa Greathouse


  “Free me shelf?” He looked down, noting the leather for the first time. “Oh. someone seems to have looped something around my feet. ’Tis all right. My new friends helped me inside. We’re hiding from me sis. I forgot to get me shelf back to her place. She’ll be fit to be tied, she will.” His eyes widened, looking from the right to the left. “My head’s got a bit of a load on. Cain’t endure her screechin’—not today. Will ye hide me?”

  Chloe went back to work on the knots, glancing up to see Althea standing in the doorway, her expression horrified. Where was Purr? Probably in hiding, she decided. But the leather ties were impossible to undo. She gave up again as Chubs showed up and offered his assistance. Pulling out his long, sharp knife from his butler’s vest, he sliced through the bindings without hesitation.

  Tiny warned him of his mistake. “’Tis Smiley’s good belt ye just ruined, Chubs. He won’t thank ye for that.”

  Chubs turned to Smiley, whose eyes were bulging with fury, staring at the pieces of his belt on the floor. The butler lost his smile. “Yer drunk? Both of ye?”

  “See, you’ve upset Mr. Chubs, too.” Chloe continued, her eyes blazing. What kind of family had she become a member of? Did these men really think it was fine to kidnap another human being just because it fit their purposes?

  “And ye didn’t think to bring me any ale back?” The butler raised his sharp knife up and jabbed it a few times at both of his friends. “I ought to gut ye both. Bastards.”

  Chloe put a hand to her head. “This is a horrible dream,” she told herself. Looking toward the doorway where Althea had stood, only a moment before, she started backing slowly away from the specters haunting her. Soon, she would wake up, and sweet Tiny would be feeding her kitten. Smiley would be yelling in the kitchen, demanding to know what to add to his soup to make it spicier. And Chubs would be sleeping in his corner chair, a wide smile glued on his thick lips, his good eye closed and the eye patch gapping just a bit so she could see the dark scar below.

  There would be no drunken vicar questioning her virtue. Ghost would be here, too, apologizing for leaving her behind yet again. “Wake up,” she ordered herself and gave herself a sharp pinch. The red, angry mark on her arm concerned her. Maybe she ought to just walk outside for a bit to clear her head.

  The moment she reached the front of estate, it occurred to her she could always walk on ahead and meet Ghost when he arrived home. She had a lot to speak to him about. This was definitely the last time he would be allowed to leave her behind. If anyone was to be besotted out of their skulls next time, it would be her!

  Her slow pace turned into a brisk walk before long. When Smiley called out from the front door, she paused a second. “Don’t fret, now. We’ll have the vicar sober before Ghost gets home. Come back inside.”

  With one last, wide-eyed look, Chloe turned and started running with all her might. Soon, the manor faded from view and she found herself pushing back branches from trees and heading farther away. Ghost would make all this better. He would put the vicar back where he belonged. The men would get a lecture about kidnaping people. Chubs would remove all weapons from his butler uniform and make sure his eye patch was in place, even when he slept.

  The sounds in the distance of the mastiffs chasing someone started soft but began to grow increasingly louder, and she gasped. But a moment later, she heard something else.

  “And what do we have here?” a deep voice asked in anger.

  Chloe froze as chills washed down her spine. Her last thought, before passing out from sheer fright, was that Ghost was going to get an ear full when he finally had to the good sense to come back home.

  She had no idea how long it was before she began to surface, but she felt as if someone was carrying her. The rocking motion almost made her ill. She was hoping it was Ghost, but the arms felt different, somehow. Her head hurt, and it was too much effort to open her eyes.

  It was then that she heard it; the deep, horrifying sound. She recognized it as the sound she had only heard at night, prior to this moment. Chills engulfed her, and she dared not even open her eyes. The sound was extremely close.

  Holding her breath, once again, she slipped away into oblivion.

  At the front of the house, Smiley stared outward, as Chloe turned away and ran from sight. An air of sobriety suddenly settled over the room. “Chubs? Tiny—she’s run, she has! Go get her, quick!”

  He stepped out into the front, but the marble was slick, and he wasn’t wearing his boot over the peg. “Where the bloody hell is Woody?” he muttered. “He should’ve been here afore us.”

  Chubs joined him at the door. “Who’s run?”

  Horses’ hooves were heard in the distance.

  “God help us, if it be Ghost,” Chubs muttered to himself. “First thing he’ll ask is where she be.” He shook his head and hurried on.

  As the sound grew closer, Tiny left the vicar’s side and rushed to the door.

  But as the rider came into view, they could tell it wasn’t Ghost. It was Woody, riding in at top speed. He hurried off the horse.

  “Ghost! Where’s Ghost? Hide Miss Chloe! They’re a comin’ to get her!”

  “Who?” they all three asked at once.

  “The man who’s been searchin’, that’s who—and I saw the two men hangin’ ‘round go for their horses. And another man, no idea ‘bout him! I come through the woods t’get here!” He paused as he saw their faces. “Where’s Chloe?”

  Pandemonium broke lose. Smiley began to hurry forward on his wooden leg. “Our Chloe. I cain’t catch her on this bloody peg, Woody. Go get her! She went toward the grove. Take Sweet and go!”

  Woody was off like a shot.

  Tiny was next. He flew past the rest of them, Chubs following. Last was Smiley, still holding his pants up.

  Smiley’s eyes grew wide, as he realized what might happen. “Bloody fools,” he cursed himself. “The whole lot of us.” Going back in for the cane he rarely could be persuaded to use, he grabbed it to hurry along as fast as he could toward the spot he’d seen her last.

  They’d barely made it out of the yard when Ghost appeared, his face stormy and furious.

  “I just passed Woody going hell-bent for leather on Sweet. What the bloody hell’s going on?”

  Chapter 15

  Finding Chloe…

  Ghost listened as three slurred voices began to try to tell him, but they were impossible to understand. He caught Smiley’s “toward the grove” and turned on his horse, disappearing into the afternoon light, his eyes searching as he raced over the gentle slopes toward the woods.

  His mind raced just as fast. This was his fault. He never should have left her alone. Her promise to stay here was one thing. But he’d also known she was upset that everyone was going to be gone today and leave her. She’d seemed eager to make the trip on board the boat, and he’d known she needed a change of scenery.

  Scanning the woods for movement, he began to grow furious at her running away. He shouted her name every few seconds, knowing he was taking a chance on alerting others who might also be trying to get to her.

  “Chloe! Sweetheart!!”

  He heard it—a shout. Gates? The sun was almost overhead, and he listened again.

  “Ghost!” a voice called back.

  Turning, he located the sound.

  He could barely see them in the distance. A man on foot, carrying something—or someone—over his shoulder. He whistled, and Kenser took off at breakneck speed toward them.

  Sighing with relief, he slowed the stallion to a halt. It was Gates, holding on to an unconscious Chloe.

  “Where did you find her?”

  “Not far from here. Headed toward town. She passed out. I’ve only had her a few minutes. Ghost, I caught a glimpse of two men again. On horseback, this time. You need to get her away from here.”

  Ghost leaned down to take her into his arms, holding her, and with heartfelt thanks, he turned Kenser around and hurried back toward the Hartwycke.


  He found all of them, even Woody, together, looking ashamed and apologetic. They were still not far from the house. Carrying Chloe down from his horse, he brought her into the house with them chattering behind him.

  “Quiet!” He put up a hand. “I’ll ask questions later. Woody—I heard you say something about men coming to the house. Who are they, and when do you think they’ll be here?”

  “Two men from the alehouse on horses. A business man, bloody American,” Woody nodded. “And a man from the alehouse. Seen him afore—once had a captain’s hat on.”

  Ghost’s eyes widened for only a second as he passed the drawing room with Chloe in his arms. He stopped, looking inside, at the vicar asleep in the chair. He turned, staring at his men.

  “Who’s this?” he demanded.

  “The vicar who’s come to marry ye and Miss Chloe.”

  It took only a second, before he repeated the same question Chloe had voiced earlier, “Is he a real vicar?”

  They all nodded.

  Ghost looked from one to the other. “Wake him up.”

  He took Chloe into the kitchen, where Althea was wringing her hands. “Althea. Cool water please. Chloe’s passed out. I need to wake her and make sure she’s all right.”

  He sat down, cradling her in his arms, while a basin was placed next to him on the table and a cloth by it. Ghost watched Chloe with concerned eyes as he dampened it and pressed it to her face.

  “Chloe, my love. Wake up, please.”

  She whimpered and blinked, looking up into his face. As if she knew she was in trouble, she turned her face into his chest.”

  “No, no, sweetheart. Listen to me. There is a vicar here to marry us. He’s asleep in the drawing room. I need you to be awake and alert, because there are men coming after you and we need to get away. Quickly.” He lightly tapped her cheek. “Chloe?”

  “He’s drunk!” she said tearfully. “He won’t even remember what he’s doing.”

  He smiled. “Will you remember it? I will.”

  She frowned. “Yes.”

  “And we have a roomful of witnesses. All right?”

  She brought her arms around his neck, holding on tightly. “Please, Ghost! Don’t let them take me away.”

  “I promise you, my darling. No one will take you from me.” He rose with her still in his arms and turned back to Althea. “You may be the only one of us, besides Chloe and me, who is sober, Althea. We need you.”

  She smiled. “Aye, laddie. I’ll not fail you now.”

  He stood, lifting Chloe to her feet. But in the drawing room, he viewed a different scene than he had earlier.

  The vicar was awake now and seemed to be almost sober. So did the men. Ghost set Chloe on her feet but held on to her tightly as he watched Althea take over, surveying the scene.

  “You, Smiley. For God’s sake, man, pull up your breeches. Stand here. Tiny, you on this side. Chubs. You stand beside the vicar and make sure he doesn’t fall down. Woody, you on his other side. She studied them, nodded, and took her place next to Chloe, who was now standing on her feet with Ghost holding her. “Always wanted to be a bridesmaid.” She chuckled, before turning to the vicar. “Now. Vicar. Begin.”

  Chloe giggled suddenly and leaned toward her soon-to-be husband. “I’ve never seen Althea take charge of a situation like this one before.” She grinned up into Ghost’s face, and he leaned down to kiss her mouth.

  “Ach!” The vicar glared from one to the other. As if standing in the finest church of England, he stuck out his chin and adopted a deep, steady voice. “Now. Dearly beloved, we are gathered...” His eyes widened as he looked around for the first time at the motley crew in the room with him, including Smiley, with one hand on his pants and his wooden leg on the same side. His vision lowered to the floor at the pieces of Smiley’s belt, still lying in a heap.

  Althea cleared her throat and glared, and his head snapped upward, looking around. “Um, don’t suppose ye have a bible in the house?”

  Althea rolled her eyes and disappeared, coming back a moment later with a thick heavy family bible that had been in the house for generations. Shoving it into his hands, she went back to her place and nodded.

  “Dearly beloved,” he said, trying to remember his wedding ceremonies.

  Woody spoke up. “Thing is, man, we ain’t got much time here. Say it. Unless ye want to do it in the coach on the way back to yer sis’s house.”

  The vicar’s eyes grew wide. Suddenly, he began, his words tumbling over each other and rushing out. He took a breath. “Ready for the vows?”

  “Yes!” A chorus answered in unison, along with Chloe and Ghost.

  “Do you?” He turned to Ghost. “Your name, young man?”

  “Ghost.”

  The vicar’s blank face made them wonder if he was about to pass out. Woody pinched him.

  “Hurry it up.”

  “Do you, Ghost, take this woman to be...”

  Chloe was quite worried he wasn’t going to make it through the ceremony before going unconscious. “Please, hurry!” she begged.

  “And do you—”

  “Chloe!” she said, before he lost his momentum.

  “Chloe, take this man to be your lawful…”

  “I do!” She and Ghost both shouted at the same time.

  “Brethren, I present to you, Mr. Ghost and Mrs. Wife, Chloe.”

  Ghost took Chloe into his arms and kissed her soundly then began to shout orders to his men. “Tiny and Chubs, drive our coach. Smiley, Woody drive the coach with the supplies. Althea, we love you and will see you on our return. Gates will be here to make sure you’re safe. And Vicar—” He reached out to shake the vicar’s hand, but the man had passed out once again on the chair. He turned and scooped up Chloe and ran with her toward the waiting coach outside. Gates stood in front, keeping an eye on the property for intruders and holding the horses while tiny and Chubs climbed on.

  Ghost climbed up inside with Chloe and lowered the leather curtains, leaving only enough space to be able to see out occasionally. Right before closing the door, he shouted to the drivers, “Liverpool!”

  Loving in the carriage…

  Inside the coach, the day’s events had Chloe fretting. “Are we really, truly wed?” she asked. The adrenalin pumped through her veins, and her chest rose and fell rapidly. “How legal is this union, sir? I’ve never seen nor heard of a marriage ceremony quite so…rushed.” She looked down with dismay at her gown. Although one of her favorites, it was apparent the dress had been made for her before she blossomed into a woman, and it had grown tight across her bosom. Althea had made her some new frocks, but she hadn’t even had time to put one on for the ceremony. “Did I really just pledge myself to you, wearing my old traveling frock?”

  Her new husband’s eyes were lingering on the top of her dress where the material was pulled taut. “It’s the very one you were wearing the day I took you from the dock and brought you home.” He winked at her, adding, “I quite like it. And yes, my love, we are man and wife.” He moved slightly, as if he was uncomfortable, and tore his eyes from her, looking briefly between the curtains.

  “A wedding day is supposed to be memorable, but this one will haunt me for the rest of our lives. First, you all deserted me while you went gallivanting about the town.”

  He took her by the shoulders and lifted her chin, forcing her to meet his eyes. “Chloe, making arrangements for the ship to be ready is not an easy task. It wasn’t as if I was hanging about the pub, drinking the day away.”

  “Well, our crew surely was,” she told him sharply.

  “I will be speaking to them about the amount they drank. By the time I saw them, they were so terrified because you’d run off, they seemed quite sober. And I’m sure they didn’t partake of the ale until their tasks were complete.”

  But Chloe was pouting now. “Was kidnapping the vicar on their list of tasks to complete? If we have children, will the crew resort to waylaying doctors and teachers, as well?”

  H
is expression had turned to a frown as he studied her, and she saw it. She tried to lower her gaze, but he refused to allow it. Taking several calming breaths, he stared down into her face.

  “Listen to me, my darling. You are understandably distraught over the hasty manner of the nuptials. I apologize. I’d hoped for a nicer service for you. Perhaps we can recreate our vows again in the Church of England. But from now on, I must demand you find a way to contain your hysteria until I am nearby to help you sort through things.”

  “Hysteria?” Chloe’s eyes first widened in shock, then narrowed in anger. “I am never hysterical.”

  He gave her a slight shake. “So you were in your right mind when you left the safety of the house to wander around the woods until you had to be rescued by Gates? If I thought that were true, you would be resting over my lap with your delightful backside exposed and turning a dark shade of red.”

  She tried to turn her face away. “You would consider taking your hand to your wife within mere minutes of wedding her?” Chloe huffed out, her chest rising and falling wildly. The buttons threatened to pop open at any moment, and he laid a large hand on her chest.

  “Deep breath, Chloe. Yes, you may be sure I’ll be taking you in hand for running off and putting yourself into danger. But not right now. Both of us will need to calm, first.” He stared at her for a moment before continuing. “I hope to call myself a gentleman these days, thanks in no small part to you. Unfortunately, a gentleman would not consider claiming his bride in a moving coach, only a cad.” He changed his position, as if he was uncomfortable.

  Passion must evoke strange emotions in a person, Chloe thought. One moment, she wanted to clobber her new mate about the head, the next, she longed for him to stake his claim. Pulling him back to face her, she let her wanton side prevail.

 

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