by Rachel James
Gripping the handrail for support, she fought to control the swirling emotions. For a brief instance, the world around her darkened, faded, then came back. Instincts kicking in, she stepped back from the rail and sought cover. She had almost tapped in. What had prevented her from doing so? Damn! She hated storms. They played havoc with her brainwaves, overloading and confusing her thoughts.
Seeking cover beneath a canvas roofing, Janice perched atop a packing crate filled with the zesty smell of lemons and oranges. She folded her arms across her chest and decided not to budge until the storm had run its course. Not even for Lloyd would she defy her intuition and stay out in the open. Her intuition was always right. And right now, it was warning her to be on the alert.
Smoke assailed her nostrils and Janice turned to find the ANNIE B’s captain studying the skyline with the same odd wariness in his eyes.
“It be powerful strange to see lightning in winter, lass.”
“Powerful strange.” Janice agreed, her gaze gravitating to the skyline with renewed interest. Seeing no ominous flutters, she brought her attention back to the man who had stopped alongside her. She had liked Captain Bowers on sight. Calloused hands, massive oarsman shoulders, thick sandy hair, fulsome red beard, he was the very picture of a ferryboat captain. She especially liked his deep, tobacco-roughened voice flavored with a light Scottish brogue. Obviously feeling her stare, he turned from his contemplation of the sky.
“Would’na thought you’d be part of the party going to Spook House, lass.”
“Spook House?”
“Aye.” He gestured with a firm, direct nod that Janice felt told a lot about him. “Leastways, that’s what folks ’round here calls her.”
Janice’s lips snaked to a smile.
“Is the chateau haunted, Captain?”
“Some say she be, back when she were Witchwood.”
“Witchwood?”
“Aye, lass. She be fancy Carrington House today, but she wasn’t always so respectable.” A merry twinkle appeared in his eye and his laughter was a full, hearty sound. His broad wink at her was mischievous. “The waters hereabouts used to be filled with pirates, lass. Cutthroats they was. Luring ships to their doom. Ramming them up against shoreline reefs.”
Janice’s eyes widened in astonishment, yet in spite of herself, she chuckled. She was sure Captain Bowers relished telling this tale to strangers. She was also sure if one searched his family tree, they’d uncover a pirate of their own.
A sharp bolt of lightning sprayed the sky, causing both of them to wince at the ripple.
“That no be pirates, lass.” Captain Bowers commented. “That be spirits. They be signaling from the sky to leave them alone. They no want to be disturbed.”
Janice managed to hide a choking laugh.
“Are you trying to frighten me, Captain?”
“Sure thing, lass. Them that spooks the spirits pays, don’t ye know. One way or t’other.”
Janice met his gaze and her response was heartfelt.
“I promise I won’t spook any spirits while I’m here, Captain.”
“I believe you, lass.” His thoughtful gaze scoured her face. “You be pretty to look at with that red hair — if’n you don’t mind my sayin’ so.”
“I don’t mind, Captain.”
“They say them that has bright red hair has the temper to match, but I think it no be true in your case, lass. You be comfortin’ — if’n you don’t mind my sayin’ so.”
Janice still didn’t mind and found herself telling him so. A deep chuckle greeted her.
“Ye be different from the other ones, lass.”
“Other ones?”
“Brought them over a whiles back, I did. Four of ’em. They be powerful different from each other. The tall one, he be fierce handsome — some s’lebrity, he is. Stood where you be sittin’. Watches the sky, he does. Don’t say nothin’, mind ye, just watches. Fairly gave me the creeps it did. The pretty one with ’im, she tries to chat ’im up, but he no be listenin’. Leastways, he no be listening to outside folks. I think he be listenin’ to inside his head. It be an eerie crossing, ’im speaking to spooks and all.”
Janice offered no comment. She wondered what Captain Bowers would say if she revealed she herself had almost “spaced out” moments ago. Was it a trait common to most psychics? She must remember to ask one of the others if they had had a similar occurrence on the crossing.
“Now, the other ones be right pleasant,” Captain Bowers continued. “T’were a couple, him big, her small. Like a China doll he treats her, fussin’ over her, worryin’ whether she be warm or not. She laughs at ’im. Prettiest sound I heered in a long time. ’Minded me of Hattie — she be my missus — fore’n she died that is. They be right ones all right.” he concluded. “Tipped me plenty, they did. Didn’t have to — no sir — but they did. They no be snobbish like some others I could name.” He gave a distinctive snort Janice could only conclude was meant to single out the master of the chateau that now lay only yards away.
A last ripple of lightning showered the sky, outlining the mansion atop the cliffs as well as the human shape pacing the landing dock below with long, purposeful strides. Even at a distance and after the long, passing years, Janice recognized Lloyd’s lithe form. Tall, straight and supple, his long legs resembled a vibrant engine in motion. From her perch beneath the overhang, she could just make out the outline of smoke rings drifting around his head, intermingling with his cold intakes of breath. She gave a faint smile. Lloyd still hadn’t managed to kick his cigarette addiction after all these years.
“I’ll say goodbye to ye now, lass, and wish ye luck.” Captain Bowers tipped his cap respectfully and shot her one last admiring glance. “Don’t envy ye stayin’, though. Me scalp fairly prickles with electricity. Somethin’s up.”
Janice nodded sympathetically, watching as he traversed the companionway and disappeared down the stairwell. She knew exactly how he was feeling. Her own arms were caked with goose bumps beneath the warm, plain leather coat she wore. And it wasn’t from the winter cold. Her senses fairly sang with electricity. The spirits were spooked. She gave a wide smile. It had been a long time since she imagined the spirit world as a living thing. Not since Anna.
Soon, the creak of rope against wood echoed and the ferry made a faint lurch. Slipping from the crate, Janice headed for the stairwell. Once on the lower level, she zig-zagged her way between two cars, then stopped alongside Captain Bowers who was unfastening the latch of a chain link gate. She quickly slipped him a tip and then her gaze met Lloyd’s across the space. He greeted her with a brief lift of his hand. She called out playfully to him.
“What an entrance, Lloyd! Did you arrange the fireworks especially for me?”
His rumbling laugh came floating back and he pitched his cigarette tip into the churning water beneath the bow. Stepping forward, he reached out and grabbed her hand.
“Quite a display, huh?”
Squeezing his fingers, Janice jumped across the tiny chasm to his side. As she landed, he spun her around for a careful inspection.
“You look terrific, Jan. But I knew you would.”
She executed a graceful curtsy at his compliment.
“You haven’t changed a bit either, Lloyd. You’re still telling lies to young women.”
“Well, you certainly fit that bill. You’ve hardly aged since the university.”
A deep foghorn blast belched loudly, claiming their attention and showering the air above their heads with cinder smoke. Diving away, both waved, catching sight of Captain Bowers’ massive frame outlined in the pillbox window of the wheelhouse. Another short blast bellowed and the ANNIE B slipped from the dock, churning sand, water, and sludge.
Lloyd bent and retrieved her standing suitcase and signaled her forward. He called above the engine whine.
> “Stairway is just ahead.”
She nodded, falling into an easy stride alongside him, and tucking her hands deep into her coat pockets to ward off the icy breeze still kicking up. Lloyd’s stride increased alongside her.
“Saw your Stellar painting in the New York gallery last week, Jan. Super stuff.”
“Sales are strong.”
“That doesn’t please you?”
“Oh, the timing’s bad, nothing more. I’ve been on the road for months with the collection. Now it seems it’s going to start again. I don’t want to go. I’ve been away from Sarah too long. I miss her.”
“How is the little tyke? Watch your step. These first steps up are tricky.”
Janice gave him her hand and soon they were ascending a short spiky stairway. Rounding a sharp incline, the stairway finally widened and they fell into matching strides again. Janice picked up the threads of conversation.
“Sarah’s fine, Lloyd, a happy little thing. Never seems to let things get her down. Physically, she’s my mirror-image.”
“And psychically?”
“No. She doesn’t possess the gift.”
“Does that disappoint you?”
“Heavens, no. I’m thrilled for her. She won’t have to … My God, Lloyd!” The soft gasp had escaped Janice’s lips before she could contain it. They had reached the top of the stairway and were now staring at an ocean front masterpiece clinging to the rise of cliff walls. “You can’t mean all this is yours?”
Her gaze swept the main edifice before her. The house was a masterful blend of Old World architectural craftsmanship. Hearing Lloyd’s chuckle, Janice gave a gargled croak. Never in her wildest dreams had she imagined such grandeur. Carrington House was simply magnificent. So versatile and dramatic in design. She craned her head upward and blinked. The walls, made of light pink stucco, seemed to be endless. Up and up, they stretched. Five stories? Janice tried to count and found her body swaying. She brought her gaze back to ground level. Beside her, Lloyd’s soft voice urged.
“It is overwhelming at first, isn’t it?”
Janice threw him a sharp glance. Who was he kidding? It was cataclysmic. She had never expected such wealth and splendor. Again, her gaze scanned the numerous windows and skylights dominating the architecture. How could one describe a corner of heaven? No words were adequate. Luckily, she managed a foolish stammer.
“It’s fabulous.”
Lloyd’s features became animated.
“I can’t wait for you to see its true grandeur though, Jan.” He pointed to their right and Janice saw more walls and skylights. “The old wing,” he offered, “was built by a young French baron in the 1700s.” Taking her elbow lightly, Lloyd prodded her forward. “Though I’ve refurbished the chateau completely over the last years, I’ve never been able to bring myself to touch the old wing. It carries too much history, I guess. Too many priceless antiques.”
“Witchwood?” Janice said, half-to-herself.
Lloyd’s head whipped around.
“Now, where in the hell did you hear that name?”
“Captain Bowers. He told me some lurid tale of pirates and sunken ships. Is it true?”
“Ghosts and goblins, you mean? Spook House?”
Janice nodded.
“Conjecture only. None of us here have ever felt a presence or been given a sign.”
Janice transferred her gaze from Lloyd to the cobblestone walkway they were now traversing. Ahead, she could hear the sound of tinkling chimes.
“But as psychics, Lloyd, we can’t discount the existence of the other side. Too many of us have experienced unexplainable visions throughout our lives. Speaking for myself, I know there is a spirit world. I have tapped into it on odd occasions. I know you have, too.” She slanted a peek at Lloyd’s thoughtful features.
“Believe me, Jan, we’d know if a ghost were haunting our halls,” he finally stated. “There’s too much psychic energy channeled here for a spirit to go unnoticed.”
“You’ll get no argument from me on that, Lloyd. Still, sometimes, we really can’t see the forest for the trees, can we?”
Lloyd’s face broke into a wolfish grin as they reached the main door and he switched her suitcase to his other hand. Turning the doorknob, he pulled open the door and signaled her inside.
“We’re entering the house through the lower atrium.” His hand arced upward as she stepped inside. “The atrium is the place to be for the teens. Pool, music. Lots of those techy gadgets they love.”
“Nothing for techy adults?” Janice teased, glancing around.
“No, I have something better.” He picked up their stride, crossing the rec room to an outer hallway and heading toward an elaborate staircase housed in the middle of the house. He paused for a moment at the bottom of the steps. “First floor holds dining rooms, sitting rooms, parlors of all kinds. Second floor has ballrooms, music rooms, an art gallery, and solarium. That’s where Adrian is scheduled to perform, by the way. I think you will find him highly entertaining.”
“So I hear. My sister saw him perform in Vegas last year. She talked about nothing else for weeks.”
“The trade papers have dubbed him the darling of Las Vegas, but I think heavy is the head that wears that crown,” Lloyd stated.
“Amen.” Janice said, giving a sudden shiver. Seeing it, Lloyd commented.
“You’ll get used to the chill in the hallways, Jan. We all did. Trust me, your sleeping quarters are comfy and warm.”
Janice gave a grateful nod. She was feeling a strange chill all of a sudden, but she didn’t think it was from the cold air in the halls. Something … someone … damn! Why did she keep thinking that someone was involved in shaking up her senses?
Fifteen steps later, they had reached the new landing and entered a mammoth art gallery filled with elegant but understated paintings and furnishings. Lloyd set down her suitcase and signaled to the far side of the room.
“Over there, Jan. I’ve saved the best for last.” He pointed to a wall painting a few yards from where they stood and Janice found her curiosity bubbling over. It was sweet of Lloyd to remember she was partial to historical paintings. And by the look of things, he had inherited a magnificent set of portraits when he had purchased the chateau. Stopping at the second portrait she came to, she could almost feel the artist’s brush strokes saturating the canvas.
“Do you know who they all are, Lloyd?” she asked, scanning the masculine face outlined. He came to stand alongside her, studying the painting as well.
“They are the past masters of Witchwood and their families.” He pointed to a painting down the way again. “Come meet Baron Aubert Dumas.”
Janice found herself following eagerly. It had been a long time since enjoying a painting just for the sake of art, and if the paintings in front of her were any indication of the ones to come, she was in for a treat. A moment later, standing in front of a gorgeous oil painting, her heart did a gigantic flip-flop. Good Lord, it was him! The rake from her oil painting! He stood looking out at her, an exquisitely handsome man with the same dark eyes and devastating smile, yet in this painting, his dress was richer. Janice immediately sensed he had a monopoly on virility, knew it, and enjoyed flaunting it. She could feel his masculine charm clear to the tips of her toes.
“My God, Lloyd, I know this man. I have been painting his portrait for weeks. He’s Baron Dumas?”
“Yes. He built the chateau as a wedding present for his bride, the Princess Lisette Fantine.”
Janice’s gaze scoured the surrounding paintings. Which lady had captured such an exquisite man’s heart? She scanned the female faces assembled and couldn’t imagine the handsome baron drawn to any of them. They were overstuffed, overdressed, pampered dowagers, not one under the age of forty. All too quickly, she let her imagination run wild. The baron had lost
his heart to a wild, sultry vixen who had kissed him hungrily and welcomed him into her body. A sharp nudge to her ribcage brought Janice back to earth.
“She’s over there.” Lloyd pointed to a section of wall further down the gallery. Janice sped away, eager to have her imaginings confirmed. When she laid eyes on the face and figure captured in oil, she gave an enraptured sigh. Now, this was a woman made to lie beneath a naked male torso. Janice Kelly, whatever possessed you to think such a starkly, sexual thought? It must be the damn lightning, she silently answered. It had short-circuited her brain waves, shoring up her libido. Or was it the sight of the woman with flaming red hair to equal her own that made her senses tingle? Janice studied the hair. Shade for shade, they were a match. But there the similarity ended. Lisette had a slim wild beauty, with jutting breasts and narrow waist. Her wedgewood blue eyes glowed with an inner excitement, as if she had recently been thoroughly and magnificently kissed. Brother, Janice, she admonished herself, you’ve got sex on the brain and it’s all Bibi’s fault! She started it with her infernal teasing about making love with perfectly total strangers.
Janice turned away from the portrait annoyed that her senses could be shaken so readily by a mere look at an oil painting. She found Lloyd studying her face. They shared a smile.
“Quite a beauty, eh?”
“Ravishing,” Janice agreed.
She saw Lloyd cast a wistful glance at the portrait.
“Wish I knew more about her. I can’t seem to find any reference to her in the old wing library. She reminds me a little of you, Janice.”
“Balderdash, as Bibi would say. We’re as different as night and day — except for the hair.”
“I don’t know.” Lloyd shook his head. “She has something I can’t put a name to.”
“I can. It’s called chemistry, the sexual kind.” Lloyd’s laugh was buoyant and seeing his honest enjoyment of her remark, Janice wondered why he didn’t laugh more. When he did, the lines in his face vanished, making him appear years younger. Responding with a wicked smile of her own, Janice linked her arm through his and, together, they retrieved her suitcase and exited the gallery door to the next staircase.