by Kate Pearce
“I should take my leave,” Redgrave said and a part of Holly’s heart shriveled and possibly died, like the mistletoe in his pocket. Of course he was going to leave. He was probably sorry that he had kissed her in the first place.
He turned, his green eyes boring into hers. “Perhaps we can enjoy a stroll tomorrow.”
As much as she would like to spend more time in his company, Holly knew that it was futile. He was not meant for her, and he knew that as well. It did neither of them any good to continue spending time in each other’s company. The only thing that could come of this was a broken heart. “I’m not sure that is wise, Lord Redgrave.”
“I’m certain it is,” he countered.
She hitched a brow. “What of your quest?”
“Exactly what is your quest, Redgrave, and what does the old Gypsy woman have to do with it?” Oliver asked.
For a moment, Redgrave held Holly’s eyes and then he turned to Oliver. “Simply a matter to assist in finding a bride.”
“Is it similar to what Holly gave Westbury?”
“Somewhat. I’m humoring my mother.”
Was he truly? Holly had thought he’d taken the matter with the utmost seriousness. Well, if he wasn’t going to abide by the response of the mistletoe, she certainly would. It was for his own good.
Oh, why were gentlemen so foolish? First Ethan and now Redgrave.
Anthony strode from the castle. Damn and blast, why had Dallimore shown up when he did? Up until the door slammed, Anthony had been having quite an enjoyable interlude with Miss Prescott. Ill-advised, yes, but enjoyable nonetheless.
Furthermore, it was proof that the damned mistletoe was broken. He knew that the instant their lips touched. He’d meant to keep the kiss short and chaste, but found it impossible.
In retrospect, perhaps it was good that Dallimore had come across them because Anthony had quite forgotten that they were in a very public room in a castle full of guests, and ghosts. He’d never seen so many gathered in one setting. Ghosts that is. In fact, he’d only encountered two in his life—Sir Gervase and Baron Tyrell, the ghost that had nearly killed Charlotte. Did they just choose to reveal themselves when they saw fit?
Anthony shook the thoughts of ghosts away because they didn’t really matter. What did was Miss Prescott and her dismissal of him and that she didn’t think it wise that they spend any more time together.
He could have sworn the kiss affected her as much as it had him. She’d clung to his shoulders and fully participated. Had it been awful, she would have pushed him away, not pulled him closer.
Damn and blast, it was the mistletoe. She didn’t know it was broken. If he told her, would it make a difference? Perhaps it would assist in his courtship of her, but then she’d worry that the talisman she had given to Westbury was broken as well, and return to watching out for her guardian.
What to do? He could return to Madam Boswell and demand that she fix it, but was it really necessary? Anthony already knew that it was Miss Prescott he wished to pursue, regardless of who the mistletoe responded to, so what did it matter if it worked or not? Besides, gentlemen had been finding love without the help of magic for centuries. His parents were a perfect example, and Anthony didn’t need magic to help him either. He’d just not share that information with his mother.
“Anthony, I’m so glad you’ve returned,” his mother said as he entered Hollybrook Park. Had she been looking for him?
“Did you need me?”
“A number of ladies would like to visit the Gypsies for fortunes, but Charlotte must remain here to see to her duties as hostess and Lynwood is needed elsewhere.
“Where?” Anthony demanded.
His mother looked around and then went up on her toes and leaned in. “A shipment came in last evening,” she whispered. “Though I don’t think I’m supposed to know that.”
Ah, yes, the illegal smuggling his brother-in-law had inherited from his grandfather along with the title. It hadn’t been Lynwood’s intention to be as involved, but the caves were beneath Hollybrook and the illegal activity was the true backbone to the strong economy in Bocka Morrow.
“He didn’t sleep last night because once he returned to the manor the guests were rising to break their fast. But Charlotte has entertainments planned for this evening and insisted he get some rest before supper.”
“There is no one else?” The very last thing Anthony wanted was to escort a bunch of misses to have their fortunes told. What he wanted to do was return to Keyvnor Castle and kiss Miss Prescott again.
“Many are new arrivals,” she informed him. “You should spend time with them, you know, to see if the mistletoe responds,” she ended in a whisper.
Even if it did, Anthony would ignore it. He knew who he wanted.
Chapter 9
A day had passed. A full twenty-four hours since Redgrave had kissed her, but Holly could almost still feel his lips against hers and it made her heart ache. Not even sketching new dress designs kept her mind from the memory, so she put those away and returned to the drawing room, where a number of guests had gathered, in hopes that conversation would keep her mind from Lord Redgrave.
At least Oliver hadn’t told Ethan anything. Not that there was anything to tell except that she and Redgrave had been alone in the blue parlor with the door closed. Of course, that could be damaging enough if the wrong gossip monger learned about it and embellished the story. Sadly, it was a fact that those in Society liked to gossip about others, something she wanted no part of.
“Care for an adventure?”
Holly nearly jumped when Oliver came up behind her.
“What kind of adventure?” she asked as she turned to him.
“Treasure hunt?” His eyes were bright as he grinned.
Holly couldn’t help but laugh. “What kind of treasure hunt?”
Oliver glanced around, nodded to a few of the guests, and then offered his arm. “Come with me and I’ll explain,” he said quietly.
“Where are we going?” Holly laughed.
“That freezing blue parlor. You are the only person who is willing to go inside, besides Redgrave,” he finished with a searching look.
Holly refrained from answering his unspoken question. She’d not give Oliver any reason to believe anything happened other than perfectly innocent conversation.
Holly blinked when they stepped into the room. There were even more ghosts than before and she might freeze to death if they remained for too long.
“He’s here to kill us all,” one was saying.
“He’d need to find us first,” another commented.
“Which is why we all must stay together.”
“Kill?” Holly said aloud. Was it even possible to kill a ghost?
“I said nothing about killing, Holly.” Oliver looked at her strangely.
Clearly, he didn’t see or hear the ghosts, and it was futile to explain. Oliver would only think her mad.
“We must avoid the Earl of Snowingham,” another ghost explained. “He is the danger to us all.”
“Lord Snowingham? What does he have to do with your concern?” she asked.
“Holly, who are you speaking to?” Oliver demanded. “And why the sudden concern for the earl? You barely know the fellow.”
She blinked at her friend and then shook her head. Now was not the time to try and explain since Oliver wouldn’t believe her anyway. Later she’d return and get her answers. “Nothing. Tell me about your treasure hunt.”
Oliver brightened immediately. “I’ve been reading about the castle, the past inhabitants, those who perished and how, it’s all quite fascinating.”
“This led you to a treasure?”
“I can well understand why so many believe the place haunted, given the tragic history, but I believe those stories are just stories, designed to keep everyone away.”
“Oh, do be clear, Oliver.”
“There once was a Knight’s Templar who visited. He’d come from Blisland.”
&nb
sp; “Yes, I know all about Blisland.” There was a remote hamlet in the parish called Temple and the Knights Templar built a refuge there for pilgrims traveling to the holy land during the twelfth century, if she remembered correctly. A church once stood there but was now in sad disrepair, and the only reason she had this knowledge was that it wasn’t too far from her home.
“It is rumored that the knights brought back a treasure, but nobody has ever been able to find it in Temple or Blisland.”
Yes, she’d heard those stories as a child as well. “And you thought the Templar had brought it here?”
“It stands to reason, don’t you think. What better place to hide a treasure than at a haunted castle or on the grounds somewhere?”
“I’m not so certain Keyvnor was considered haunted in the twelfth century, Oliver.”
“Are you confident it wasn’t?” he countered. “The rumors of haunting could have started even then to protect the hidden treasure.”
It was very unlikely, but she’d go along. “So you’d like me to help you find this treasure?”
“I think it would be great fun, and something to occupy our time until the weddings.”
“I thought the misses and ladies who are staying here would be entertainment enough for you.”
“That’s just it, Holly.” Oliver sobered. “What is the purpose in flirtation when in the end I’ll need to marry an heiress? However, if I found a treasure, then I could pursue my heart’s desire and not one my purse needs.”
Poor Oliver. His situation was not much different from her own. He did need an heiress and could possibly be forced to marry without love, whereas she brought so little to a marriage that few gentlemen would even consider her, even if they did have plump pockets. “Even if you were to find the treasure, wouldn’t it belong to Banfield?”
“If I do find the treasure, perhaps I won’t tell him.”
Holly frowned at her friend.
“Oh, very well, but maybe he will share? Reward me? Or perhaps I’ll keep a little back for myself.”
She shook her head. “Why not ask the Gypsy. Maybe she could help you find it.” Holly didn’t believe there was a treasure. If the rumors were true, someone would have found it long before now.
His face contorted into either anger or irritation, she couldn’t tell which. “Her premonitions and magic are as real as the fictional ghosts in the castle.”
Holly studied Oliver. “What did she say to you?”
“That what I seek is not for me to have.”
“What is it you seek?”
“The umm, well…the treasure.,” he hedged.
“You didn’t even know about the treasure at the time.” Holly narrowed her eyes on Oliver. “What else do you seek?” She thought she knew all there was to know about Oliver. They’d grown quite close since she’d gone to live with Ethan. He’d never kept anything from her.
“It’s not important,” he dismissed. “Besides, it’s not as if I believe her.”
“Oliver, I really do think you should heed whatever she said.”
Smiling, he shook his head and studied her. “Come now, let us not argue. We have treasure to find.”
With a sigh she said, “Very well. At least it will occupy us for the day.”
“Enjoy your hunt, but you will not find the treasure at Keyvnor,” Sir Gervase said as he appeared to her.
“There is one?”
“Of course there is,” Oliver insisted. “That is what I’ve been trying to tell you.”
“The Gypsy is right in that it is not meant for him,” Sir Gervase continued.
“Where is it?” Holly asked the ghost.
“I don’t exactly know, but after studying a few maps I think I know where to begin,” Oliver answered.
“Not here.” The ghost smiled. “But it does exist and has not yet been found.”
A thrill shot through Holly at the very idea of a real treasure hidden somewhere, but as it wasn’t at Keyvnor, there was really no point in searching, other than to keep Oliver occupied. As soon as she mentioned what the ghost of a Knight Templar told her, Oliver would dismiss her and go off anyway.
“Well, come along,” Oliver insisted. “Thank goodness it’s not in here or we’d freeze to death before finding it.”
With a smile and nod, Holly left Sir Gervase and followed Oliver to his quest.
“I will not share my bed with you,” Anthony informed his brother, Michael, who had arrived unexpectedly.
“You’re my brother. You’d turn me out?”
“The bed barely fits me. I’d be miserable with you there as well.” Besides, Anthony still wasn’t confident that Miss Prescott could remain safe at Keyvnor. Not with all those ghosts anyway. He knew the place was rumored to be filled with them, but there had to have been nearly two dozen in the blue parlor and all of them had watched him kiss Miss Prescott.
“What of William’s chamber? Certainly my younger brother cares enough to share his chamber.”
Charlotte frowned. “I’m sorry Michael. He has been put with Edward, Adam’s younger brother.”
“Alexander is in there was well,” his cousin Cassandra, Lady St. Giles added. She was settled beside her husband, Jack, Lord St. Giles. “The chamber is already quite crowded.”
The three boys were on holiday from Eton where they attended school together.
“I didn’t know you were coming,” Charlotte said with a sigh. “No one did. Why would I keep a room for you when you told Mama you were not coming?”
Thank goodness Anthony had arrived ahead of his brother, or he might have been without a bed because Michael wouldn’t share with him any more than Anthony was willing to share with Michael.
“You found a spot for Anthony.” Michael glared at Anthony, who was hard-pressed not to grin.
“Michael.” Charlotte sighed again. “I love you. I adore you, you know I do. If I had known you were coming, I would have kept a room for you. But as it is, I can’t toss one of my guests out on their ear.”
“No, it’s just better to send your own flesh and blood out into the wilderness with no place to stay.”
Anthony snorted at his brother’s theatrics.
“I’d hardly call Bocka Morrow the wilderness,” Charlotte returned dryly. “I know the inns are sold out. You’re going to have to stay at Keyvnor. There’s nowhere else for you to go.”
For a moment, Michael seemed to consider the possibility and accept that he wouldn’t have a place at Hollybrook Park. Then he flashed a pitiful look at Lord and Lady St. Giles. “You are my dearest friend.”
St. Giles’ brow lifted in surprise. “You are not sharing a bedchamber with my wife and me. It is out of the question.”
Michael was more desperate than Anthony realized. Of course, if the situation were reversed, perhaps he’d beg the same of his closest friend. Then again, Anthony’s closest friend was a bachelor, and he had no doubt that Somerton would be glad to put him up.
“I’ll sleep on the floor.”
“Michael.” Lady’s St. Giles brought her hand to her lips in alarm. Anthony couldn’t really blame her, the suggestion was quite shocking.
“Oscar sleeps on the floor these days. Sorry, old man.”
Anthony bit back a laugh. For the first time, he actually liked that obnoxious poodle that barked from his place on Lady St. Giles’ lap at hearing his name. Anthony glanced around. Where was Princess, Charlotte’s cat? Mother and Father brought the feline with them and he’d seen for himself that the cat loved nothing more than to terrorize the yappy little dog.
“Castle Keyvnor,” Michael complained. “None of you are willing to stay there.”
“None of the ghosts bothered you last time,” St. Giles reminded Michael. “You must not be the sort they’re interested in haunting.”
With one last irritated look at Anthony, Michael turned to leave.
“See you on the morrow,” Anthony called joyfully.
“Go bugger off,” he grumbled before he quit the
parlor and Anthony couldn’t help but chuckle, which only earned him a scolding look from Charlotte.
“Why blame me? Michael should have planned better.”
“Need I remind you,” Charlotte said, “that you are lucky to have a bed and if it weren’t for Adam’s sister, you would have suffered the exact same circumstance?”
“Well, I didn’t,” Anthony reminded her, grateful that he arrived first since he knew without a doubt that Michael wouldn’t have shared with him either.
Chapter 10
Oliver was not to be discouraged, even though they’d walked all of Keyvnor yesterday without a hint of where the treasure could be buried. Of course, Holly knew there was no such treasure here but had gone along anyway. She remembered rumors of a Templar treasure hidden in or near Temple but nobody had ever found it. She, like most, had assumed it was only a tale, but after speaking with Sir Gervase, she couldn’t help but wonder where it was. Perhaps when she finally returned to her home near Tintagel, she might engage in a treasure hunt herself, which was why she’d returned to the blue parlor this morning.
“Sir Gervase, are you about?” she called into the empty room.
Where had all the ghosts disappeared to? Yesterday it had been full, bringing the temperature to near freezing. This morning is was quite empty and the room was toasty.
Alarm shot through her. Had they all been killed? That was their concern yesterday and it had something to do with Lord Snowingham. Was he a secret ghost hunter or something?
The idea was nearly laughable, except the ghosts were real, so she wouldn’t discount the possibility. Witch hunters were quite real at one time so why couldn’t there be ghost hunters?
“Sir Gervase?” she called again. “Is anyone about?”
Only silence greeted Holly as she settled on the settee before the fire. Oh, she hoped nothing dreadful had happened to him or the others.
“I believe everyone is in the dining room breaking their fast,” Lord Redgrave answered from the threshold.
Holly’s pulse picked up at the sight of Lord Redgrave. Oh, why couldn’t the mistletoe have come alive for her? Instead, she’d have only a memory of what it was like to share his kiss while she tried not to think about the woman who would one day share them all. “I’m not concerned with the living,” she finally answered. “The ghosts are all gone and I fear something dreadful might have happened.”