by Jen Turano
“I would still marry you, even if I’d come to the conclusion you were a complete and utter lunatic.”
“You think I’m a lunatic?”
“Well, no, I was just giving you the first example that sprang to mind.”
Her nose wrinkled. “Which means you actually do believe I might belong in an asylum.”
Blowing out a breath, Bram smiled. “Of course I don’t. The point I was trying to make is that, as a gentleman, I’m bound by a gentleman’s code to honor my offer of marriage to you. And even though I’m quite certain you’ll argue with me, I still believe marriage is the best option you have to put the Silas Ruff problem to rest. As we’ve mentioned, he’s a dangerous man and isn’t simply going to go away.”
“Mr. Skukman mentioned to me this morning that he knows some . . . men.”
Bram blinked. “I’m sure he does—as do I, if you want to know the truth of the matter—but I’m also sure you’d be more comfortable attending a wedding over a funeral.”
Lucetta leaned over and kissed the top of Montresor’s head, earning a lick of affection in return. “I have no issue with attending weddings. I just have no desire to be the lady walking down the aisle to meet a groom at the end of that aisle.”
“I always thought every woman’s greatest dream was to get married.”
“And I’m sure that was my dream when I was twelve.” She shrugged. “Life has a way of turning out differently than we expect, though, doesn’t it?”
The urge to soothe her was immediate, an urge he staunchly pushed aside, knowing she would turn all prickly again if he tried.
“Mr. Skukman told me I should have been more appreciative of your sacrifice,” Lucetta said, her tone decidedly disgruntled. “And that sacrifice, according to him, was you offering to marry me.”
Bram felt his lips curl. “Did he now?”
She caught his eye. “He did, and I hate to admit this, but . . . he might be right about me not showing you the appropriate appreciation.” She blew out a breath. “Apparently, I’m difficult.”
He couldn’t hold back a laugh. “Such conclusions can be surprising, but . . . truth be told, difficult may be part of your charm. It’s far more delightful than bossy.”
Rolling her eyes, Lucetta leaned back on her elbows, earning a rumble of dissent from Montresor in the process as he resituated himself in the folds of her skirt. “Difficult though I may very well be,” she began, “I find myself curious about you. Tell me something interesting about Bram Haverstein.”
“There’s not much to tell.”
“I’m sure that’s not true. You live in a castle. There must be a riveting story behind that.”
“I’m afraid it’s a rather dull story, not riveting. I loved the look of the place and knew it would provide me with enough room to keep a few animals and provide me with the calm atmosphere I need to . . . Well . . . who doesn’t enjoy a calm atmosphere?”
“From what I’ve experienced since arriving at Ravenwood, the atmosphere here is anything but calm. And I don’t think that’s the real story behind why you bought the place.” She considered him for a long moment. “Quite honestly, I’ve come to the conclusion there’s far more to you than meets the eye.”
Bram blinked. “Ah . . . well, I’m sure that could be said about most people.”
“Why did you really purchase Ravenwood?” she pressed.
Bram leaned back. “Fine, since persistence also seems to be part of your charm, I’ll tell you. But it’s hardly a riveting tale. You see, the previous owner, Mr. James Woodward, was desperate to sell because his wife had come to the conclusion Ravenwood was haunted. After one too many encounters with what she claimed were otherworldly beings and otherworldly experiences, she had Mrs. Macmillan pack her a bag and she left for the city, vowing to never step foot in Ravenwood again—which, I can honestly tell you, she never did.”
“Mrs. Macmillan worked for the previous owners?”
“She and her husband did.”
“And you thought keeping them on was a good idea because . . . ?”
Bram shrugged. “They asked if they could remain, and since I didn’t have a housekeeper or a butler, I didn’t see any harm in allowing them to retain their positions.”
“Well, they certainly do fit the roles for caretakers of a haunted castle, but you have yet to truly explain why you bought the place.”
Plucking a long piece of grass out of the ground, Bram rolled it between his fingers. “Who doesn’t want to live in a haunted castle?”
Lucetta arched a perfect brow his way.
“Oh, very well,” he said. “I’ll tell you, but only because I’m not certain I’m quite ready to add nagging to the long list of supposed charms I’ve had to accept about you recently.”
“I don’t nag,” Lucetta muttered.
“That may well be debatable, but . . . back to my story. You see, the previous owner, Mr. Woodward, had recently suffered some extensive losses in the market, and because of that, he did not have the luxury of taking a financial loss on Ravenwood once rumors spread that it was haunted. However, since his wife refused to step foot inside the castle once she came to the belief it was well and truly haunted, he found himself in a bit of a bind, so . . . I stepped in and bought it from him.”
“Good heavens, Mr. Skukman was right. You do enjoy rescuing people,” he heard Lucetta say under her breath before she lifted her head and sent him a smile that showed a great deal of teeth. “It was very nice of you to buy Ravenwood from that man.”
Bram shoved aside the peculiar thought that she didn’t actually seem to like the idea that he enjoyed rescuing people, and summoned up a smile of his own. “I had the means to buy Ravenwood, and I love the castle, so helping out Mr. Woodward wasn’t an act of any great consequence.”
“I’m certain it was to him.”
He turned his attention to the sheep, all of which were back to grazing as Igor slunk around them. Looking back at Lucetta, Bram caught her eye. “Just as I’ve come to discover you don’t care to have people remark on your skills on stage, I don’t particularly care to talk about the assistance I extend to people.” He smiled. “Reverend Gilmore, a dear friend I met about a year ago, once told me that he believes God puts people on certain paths. And when you cross paths with a person who is in need, and you have the solution to that need, well, God expects you to put that solution to use. I don’t know about you, but I’m not one to argue with God.”
Lucetta’s mouth had dropped open. “You’re acquainted with Reverend Gilmore?”
“Shouldn’t I be?” Bram asked slowly.
“He’s friends with your grandmother, and . . . he’s the man who helped me get safely settled when I first landed in New York years ago.”
“That is a curious coincidence, but I don’t believe he’s deliberately sought me out for some nefarious scheme—something that horrified expression on your face clearly suggests you are considering. It’s well known throughout the tenements that I’m willing to hire a person if they have a desire to work, and that’s how Reverend Gilmore heard about me. Since he’s a gentleman who has dedicated his life to serving the poor, and I’m willing to employ people from the slums who are desperate for work, it’s little wonder that he’d make a point of meeting me.”
“He sends you prospective employees?”
“He does.”
“It still seems a bit too coincidental to me,” she muttered.
Smiling, Bram rose to his feet and held out his hand to Lucetta. “You may very well have a point, and there be something Shakespearean in motion, however, the day is quickly getting away from us. The dogs and sheep will need to eat soon, so shall we continue our discussion of unlikely coincidences as we travel back to the castle?”
Lucetta sat up, set Montresor aside, and took Bram’s hand, allowing him to pull her to her feet. “I’ll walk with you to feed the animals, but I’m not going back inside the castle just yet. When I fled Ravenwood less than an hour ago your m
other and grandmother were entrenched in the tower room I occupy and were arguing about Ruby, and Ruby was arguing right back to both of them. In the midst of all that Mrs. Macmillan came in. She’d climbed all the way to the tower in order to introduce me to Tilda—an employee of yours who is going to be acting as my lady’s maid, even though I told Mrs. Macmillan I don’t have need of a personal maid.”
“Tilda’s a young woman Reverend Gilmore sent me.”
“And she seems quite lovely. However, I really have no need of a lady’s maid, but I never imagined Mrs. Macmillan would be so adamant about me taking Tilda on. And don’t even get me started with what happened when your housekeeper discovered what Mr. Skukman had been doing with the hammer she saw me holding.”
“She reacted unpleasantly?” Bram asked slowly.
“That’s a bit of an understatement. Quite honestly, she completely lost her head.”
“That doesn’t sound like Mrs. Macmillan.”
Lucetta shrugged. “All I can fathom is that she takes her position as your housekeeper far too seriously and was obviously worried Mr. Skukman and I were going to harm the castle walls when she discovered we’d been searching for secret passageways.”
Of anything he’d been expecting her to say, that hadn’t been it. “Why were you looking for secret passageways?”
“That goat didn’t fly up to the tower. And since Mr. Skukman questioned half the staff this morning and no one saw the goat being led up the stairs, well, a secret passageway is the only reasonable solution we could come up with.”
“Don’t you think your time might be better spent with Mr. Skukman trying to come up with a plan to deal with Silas Ruff?”
“We discussed options as we searched for the passageway, but since we’ve been less than successful coming up with a viable plan, solving the mystery of the goat seemed a pleasant way to pass the time.” She smiled. “There’s nothing like a good mystery to help settle a person’s thoughts. I normally settle my thoughts by taking to the stage, but since a stage isn’t exactly available to me, I’m hoping that as I sort through the mystery of the tower, a plan will subconsciously develop in regard to what to do about Silas.”
“Do you intend on hammering through a tower wall in order to seek out this supposed passageway?”
“Of course not. Mr. Skukman was using the hammer to tap on the stones of the fireplace, but he’s now convinced a passageway probably exists behind the bookcase.” She released a sigh. “I was unable to investigate that idea fully, though, given all the arguing.”
“Ah, yes, the arguing. Should I want to know why my mother, grandmother, and Ruby were arguing?”
“I’m not certain I understood everything about that situation, but from what I could gather . . . your mother was appalled that Ruby is trying to orchestrate an introduction to Mr. Grimstone, your grandmother was appalled that Ruby didn’t even consider her when she decided she wanted to enter New York society, and Ruby was annoyed that neither her mother or grandmother thought pursuing Mr. Grimstone was a good idea. And she got even more annoyed after I told her I couldn’t introduce her to Mr. Grimstone. But her annoyance disappeared in a flash after I explained—over a great deal of shouting, I might add—that I have never met Mr. Grimstone, which was why I couldn’t introduce them.”
Bram abruptly sat back down on the grass, motioning her to join him. “Why in the world would my sister want to be introduced to Mr. Grimstone?”
“Well, at first I thought she wanted him to marry her.”
Bram’s mouth dropped open. “What?”
“Exactly the reaction I had, but it turns out that your sister has a very curious way of devising plans.”
“You do realize that explains absolutely nothing, don’t you?”
Lucetta smiled a charming smile, one filled with mischief that had him completely losing his train of thought.
“Ruby has come to the somewhat unusual conclusion that, in order to get back at Geoffrey—the man, not the goat—she needs to enter New York society. In order to do that, since she apparently neglected to realize that Abigail can get her accepted with a crook of her little finger, Ruby decided that she needs Mr. Grimstone to become enamored with her, and then escort her to all the best society events, which will have all society doors opening to her in no time at all.”
“That’s one of the most absurd plots I’ve ever heard in my life.”
“That’s what I thought too, at first, but after further contemplation, I’ve decided it’s not absurd at all. Everyone in New York society is completely enthralled with Mr. Grimstone and his delicious gothic novels, along with his first play, that”—she smiled—“yours truly is in.
“Quite honestly, it was a brilliant move on Mr. Grimstone’s part to remain incognito, that state lending him a most mysterious air. If Ruby could, indeed, become introduced to the man and then have him escort her around town, well, all the doors of all the best houses—excluding Mrs. Astor’s, of course, because everyone knows she doesn’t care to entertain the artistic set—would be open to your sister.”
Bram opened his mouth to argue the point, but before he could voice a single argument, something moved a few feet away from them, attracting his attention. As that something came into focus, a sense of alarm soon followed.
Geoffrey—the goat, not Ruby’s false-hearted gentleman friend—was standing only one good leap away from them, his attention centered on Lucetta. How the goat had managed to escape the barn and then find them was a complete and utter mystery, but not one Bram had time to consider at the moment.
“Don’t move,” he whispered—which had Lucetta immediately turning around.
“Is that . . . Geoffrey?” she demanded right before Geoffrey pawed a hoof against the ground and then . . . charged.
12
Feeling quite like she was in the midst of some outlandish dream, one where she kept getting chased over and over again by a goat, Lucetta leapt over a tree stump while being mindful not to land on Montresor as the little dog scampered by her feet. Running as fast as she could across a pasture painted in the lovely colors of fall, she crested a small rise and saw Mr. Skukman and Stanley striding her way.
“Geoffrey is determined to kill me again,” she yelled, which had Mr. Skukman—who seemed to be brandishing a sword—breaking into a run. As he disappeared over the rise she’d just crested, she slowed to a walk and drew in a sharp gasp of much-needed air as she pressed a hand against a stitch that was developing in her side. To her dismay, only seconds later Geoffrey charged over the rise, bleating as if his very life were in danger as Mr. Skukman tried to catch him.
“Mr. Skukman, Geoffrey is afraid of swords,” Bram yelled as he ran into view.
His words had Mr. Skukman coming to an immediate stop and lowering the sword, but Geoffrey continued forward, galloping past Lucetta, clearly having abandoned all interest in her.
“That’s not something one sees every day,” Stanley remarked as he moved up to join her.
Nodding, Lucetta watched as Geoffrey continued his flight across the pasture, disappearing into a grove of trees before she caught Stanley’s eye. “I’m quickly coming to the conclusion one sees many odd things here at Ravenwood.”
Stanley sent her a weak smile right as Bram joined them.
“Are you all right?” Bram asked.
“A little short on breath, but besides that, perfectly fine,” she said before she looked Mr. Skukman’s way. He was walking backward, still holding a sword in his hand, his attention settled on something Lucetta couldn’t see. A mere moment later, that mystery was solved as sheep began cresting the rise, followed by Igor, Brutus, and Victor, who, surprisingly enough, seemed to be doing a credible job of herding them.
“Would you look at that,” Bram said, raising a hand to shield his eyes as the sheep, and then the dogs, now joined by a tail-wagging Montresor, wandered by them.
“May I suggest we follow them back to the castle, sir?” Stanley asked, eyeing the dogs somewhat w
arily. “There’s really no telling where the dogs may herd the sheep, and you must remember how distressed Mr. and Mrs. Plinkhurt were the time the sheep made it off Ravenwood’s property and ended up in Mrs. Plinkhurt’s rose garden.” Stanley shuddered. “I don’t believe I’ve ever seen a lady dissolve into such hysterics over a few eaten bushes, and that was after we assured her we’d replace them.”
“That might be for the best,” Bram said, turning to offer Lucetta his arm.
Taking the offered arm, she fell into step beside Bram, Mr. Skukman falling into step on her other side.
Glancing at the sword Mr. Skukman was carrying, Lucetta tilted her head. “I know I’ll probably regret asking this, but why are you carrying that sword, and why are you and Stanley walking about the grounds with a sword in the first place?”
“We’ve been looking for you,” Mr. Skukman said. “Young ladies, along with quite a few of their mothers, have descended on Ravenwood. Since you’re not in disguise at the moment, I felt it prudent to track you down. We’ll need to slip you into the castle and back to your tower as stealthily as possible so that no one gets an opportunity to recognize you.”
Bram frowned. “It seems quite out of character for Ernie to allow ladies entrance into the castle, especially given that he’s been apprised of the importance of keeping Lucetta’s presence here a secret.”
“In Ernie’s defense, sir,” Stanley began, “the ladies had an invitation to call at Ravenwood, from your mother. Although in Mrs. Haverstein’s defense, what with all the chaos of the last day or two, she forgot she’d extended these ladies an invitation to tea.”
“Why did she invite them to Ravenwood instead of her own house?” Bram asked.
“They’re here to discuss plans for the theatrical event, sir. I overheard that the first rehearsal for that event is to be held at the castle tomorrow, which explains why the ladies are here today.” Stanley nodded in a very knowing way. “From what I understand, they need to get the lay of the land.”
“We can’t still host a theatrical event, not since we need to keep Lucetta hidden,” Bram argued.