Laurie Brown

by Hundreds of Years to Reform a Rake

  “Would you like me to show you how it works?”

  Dev called after her as she marched down the hall.

  “No, thank you,” Josie answered.“I’ll figure it out.”

  Although when she entered the bathing chamber, she wasn’t so sure. In addition to a claw-foot tub large enough for two, the room held a dressing table, a barber chair, and several items she couldn’t identify. That almost included the shower, which was half hidden behind a screen, and didn’t resemble any shower she’d ever seen.

  She examined the contraption. Four long copper pipes sprang out on each side of a central post and curved around, encircling two-thirds of the area above a circular stone platform approximately five feet in diameter. The arms, as the maid had called them, were pierced with holes along the inner surface, and Josie deduced the water would spray out in an all-over body wash. Overhead a more familiar looking showerhead promised clean hair, but she couldn’t find any faucets or other mechanism to turn the thing on.

  “Perhaps, we’d better ask Lord Waite...”

  “Did I hear my name,” he asked. He leaned against the doorjamb, another brandy in his hand.

  “May I be of service?”

  Dora rushed over to block his way and simultaneously tried to shut the door.

  “We need his help,” Josie admitted.

  Dev gave a superior smirk and sauntered into the room. “There is a tank on the roof that holds water pumped from a nearby spring.The pipes run through this fireplace, where the water is heated. Thankfully Carson thought to stoke the flames; getting the temperature just right is a bit tricky.”

  “All I really need to know is how to turn it on.”

  Dev stepped to the fireplace and slid open a panel above the mantel. He turned a handle, and after a few gurgles and spurts water beautifully cascaded out of each opening in the awkward contraption.

  Josie watched it for a minute, entranced by the fountainlike quality. But her desire to jump in soon overrode, and she pushed Dev toward the door. “Thank you, thank you.Time for you to go.”

  “Must I?” he teased.

  Dora sucked in an indignant breath.

  “I suppose I must,” he said with a dramatic sigh.

  Josie giggled. She was going to have a real shower, and at that moment nothing else mattered. She began to disrobe almost before Dora closed the door behind Dev and turned the key with a flourish.

  With Dora’s help, Josie adjusted the screen for privacy. Despite the maid’s insistence that a lady didn’t remove her chemise to bathe, she stripped off the wet garment as soon as she was safely ensconced within the water jets and out of the maid’s censuring glare. Dora, assuming Josie would want to wash in a basin, had brought a sliver of soap. Hah. No miserly bit of tepid water in a bowl today.

  Josie enjoyed washing away the grime of the road, lathering the lavender-scented soap even into her hair. She hummed as she got clean, even vocalizing a few bars of “Singing in the Rain,” which seemed appropriate even though she couldn’t remember all the words. Hot water spraying from all sides soothed her aching muscles from her shoulders down to her abused toes. She lacked only decent shampoo and a razor for her legs in order to feel normal again.

  She stepped out of the water and wrapped herself in a towel, a bit on the thin side as far as fluffy went, but as large as a bedsheet.

  She wasn’t sure how long she’d been in the shower, but the maid had seated herself in the corner and dozed with her head against the wall. Josie dried herself and tiptoed over to put on the clean chemise and as much clothing as she could by herself. She sat at the dressing table and hesitated a moment before picking up Dev’s comb to untangle her curls. Such an act seemed so...intimate, even more so than using his bathing chamber.

  “Ob, biss, I hab your cobb id by bokgeb,”Dora said.

  After a moment’s thought, Josie understood the maid meant she had a comb in her pocket, and smiled her thanks. The rest of her toilet was completed efficiently.

  Carson waited in the reception room and acted as if nothing out of the ordinary had taken place. He handed Dora Josie’s shawl, neatly folded, with one glove on the top. “His lordship has left to call on Lady Honoria,” the valet announced with a slight bow.“He said you would know what it concerned.”

  Josie hoped Dev was able to schedule a séance for that evening.

  “His lordship also said you could wait for him here. However, the hallway is clear if you wish to return to your suite immediately.”

  Josie was sure that last bit was Carson’s own idea, but she happened to agree with him. No good would come of her hanging around in Dev’s rooms.

  “Hey, where’s her obber glub?”

  Josie knew full well where her other glub was, and she didn’t want Dora to make a big deal out of it. “I’m sure it will turn up later,” she said, turning the maid by the shoulders toward the door.“Thank his lordship for his hospitality,” she said over her shoulder to Carson as she pushed Dora out the door in front of her.

  They returned to her suite without incident. Dora tried to explain several things to Josie, but her speech was getting worse and Josie understood very little of what she said.

  Josie had no idea how to help the poor girl. “I think you’d better go downstairs and let Mrs. Osman put something cool on your mouth,” she said, insisting when the maid demurred. “Yes, I understand, you’ll be back to dress me for the ball, but that’s really not necessary. Someone else can...okay, okay, I won’t ask for anyone else. Now go and let the housekeeper help you.”

  After Dora finally consented to seek treatment, and a quick peek into the other bedroom to ensure that she’d understood correctly and Mrs. Binns was indeed absent, Josie went to her own room intending to take a short nap.

  “Where the hell have you been?”

  Josie was startled, not only by the ghost’s presence but also by his wan and disheveled appearance and the virulence of his tone. “Excuse me,” she said, placing one fist on her hip and shaking one finger of her free hand in his direction.“Where the hell were you when I was kidnapped by Hargrave this morning?”

  Deverell ran his hand through his hair as he paced back and forth in front of the windows. “Don’t point. It’s rude.”

  “I’ll give you rude.How about when you didn’t...”

  “Before you get wound up with your righteous indignation, allow me the chance to explain.”

  Josie crossed her arms, but she remained silent.

  “Because you intended to meet with Dev, against my advice I might add, I didn’t accompany you since I knew I would only be bounced out of the way. When I realized you were in danger, I could not materialize a strong enough presence to be of any assistance. Once you’d left the grounds of the estate, I could not follow.”

  “Because you can’t leave,” Josie said softly, remembering that he’d said something to that effect when they’d first met. Gads, so much had happened since then, it seemed ages ago.

  “I hated feeling so useless. All I could do was watch over Dora and keep her semiconscious until Dev could find her and learn what had transpired. Then I had to trust him to rescue you.”

  “He did. Well, sort of.”

  “And how was I to know? I waited here for hours with that drunken maid snoring her brains out. Even after Carson woke her and fetched her with fresh clothes for you, I couldn’t be sure. I couldn’t see for myself that you were unharmed.”

  “Because I was with him.”

  “For hours,” the ghost said, and stuck out his bottom lip.“Hours,” he reiterated.“And why does your hair look damp?”

  “Does it?” She ran her fingers through her curls to fluff them up. Her short hair usually air-dried quickly. She tucked several loose strands behind her ears to stall for time but realized she would have to answer him or he’d magnify the matter into an issue. “No big deal,” she mumbled, shrugging one shoulder. “I took a shower.”

  “With him?”

  “No!” Her imagination immed
iately conjured up some interesting possibilities for two people using the unusually constructed shower. Handholds. Footrests.

  “There is currently only one shower in the entire castle.”

  “His shower does not mean he was in it.”

  Deverell pinched his chin and furrowed his brow.“Something is wrong with this picture.”

  “What do you mean? Wrong?”

  “I can’t see me, him, standing idly by while a beautiful woman clad only her chemise...”

  “Naked.” She immediately regretted correcting him.

  “Pardon?

  “Nothing.”

  “You said something.What?”

  “Um, I said I was naked.”

  “Oh, thank you for that added worry. What I want to know is, why didn’t he try to seduce you?

  I don’t understand.”

  She decided not to share any more of what had happened with him. If he found out from altered memories after they returned to the future, so be it. She would deal with it then. “Maybe I’m not his type.”

  He flashed her a look of disbelief.

  Time to change the subject. “I do have a bit of good news,’ she said.“Because Dev was busy rescuing me, he wasn’t able to keep his appointment with Lady Wingate.”

  Deverell made a face.

  “And that means Lord Wingate didn’t find them together, and so he can’t demand satisfaction, and there won’t be a duel. It was Wingate who shot you, wasn’t it? Well, now he won’t. Isn’t that good news?”

  The ghost shook his head. “It won’t make any difference.”

  “Of course it will. You’ll die eventually, of course, but at least not...”

  “I can still feel the presence of the bullet in my heart.”

  “But if there isn’t a duel, then you won’t be shot.”

  She fought back unexpected tears. “It’s that altered memory thing. You’ll remember when we get...”

  “You can’t change history.”

  “Then why are we here? Aren’t we supposed to change what happens by debunking the gypsy seer?”

  “Maybe I was wrong to think we could alter the future.” Deverell sat in the chair and turned away from her to stare out the window. “Maybe that’s why we can’t figure out how she...”

  “No! I refuse to believe that,” she said, rushing to his side and sinking to her knees. She wanted to reach out to touch him, but she gripped the chair arm instead.“We can do it. I know we can. I refuse to leave until...”

  “We may not have a choice.” He turned sad eyes to her. “I thought we would have more time, but my strength is flagging.”

  That was obvious, although she didn’t say so. He not only was paler but also looked...grayer, indistinct around the edges. “Then save your energy. Stop materializing. Stop...whatever.”

  “I don’t think it will make a great difference. I will hold out as long as possible.” But he must reserve 235 enough energy to get her home.That he could not, would not, put at risk. He dematerialized and withdrew his presence. At the last second he glanced back. Josie dropped her head onto her hands.

  She wasn’t ready to leave.Was it simply her usual dog-with-a-bone attitude toward completing any given project, or did it have more to do with Dev and the unfinished business between them? She had little time to analyze her strong desire to stay before a knock on the door interrupted her thoughts.

  “Come in,” she called as she jumped up. She slid into the chair and grabbed her book off the table.

  Honoria entered. “Oh, I am so glad to see you are none the worse for your ordeal,” she whispered.

  Josie blinked. What had Dev told his mother? And why was she whispering?

  “The coast is clear,” Mrs. Binns said from the doorway in a normal voice.“Come. Come. Nellie laid out a lovely tea before she left, and I always say everything looks brighter after a cup of the healing brew.”

  “So traumatic,” Honoria said, reaching out to help Josie stand as if she were some sort of invalid.

  “Really, I’m fine.”

  “Of course you are,” Mrs. Binns assured her. “And you are not to worry. Honoria and I have let it be known, subtly of course, that you were regrettably confined to your bed with the headache.”

  At least the prosaic and mundane excuse was more believable than Dev’s proposed lost-in-the-woods story. In order to get lost off a well-marked path a person would have to be practically brainless. Not an adjective she aspired to have connected to her name.

  The women settled into the sitting room, Honoria next to Josie on the sofa. Mrs. Binns took the nearby side chair and poured.

  “Do I smell mint?” Josie asked.

  “I added a pinch as a general pick-me-up. I also added verbena as a restorative for your nerves.”

  “Your reputation is safe with us,” Honoria said, patting Josie’s hand.

  “Lord Waite was quite self-effacing,” Mrs. Binns said.“He said you rescued yourself and he just provided transportation. However did you get away from Hargrave?”

  “I kneed him in the groin.”

  Honoria blanched, but Mrs. Binns leaned for-ward.“ Tell me more.”

  “That’s all there is to tell. It’s a self-defense technique that can be used if a male assailant is facing you.”

  “Show me. Show me.”

  Josie dutifully stood by the side of her chair and demonstrated the move as she’d been taught, adding her own refinement of lifting her skirt for more knee room.“One good whack and it’ll down any man immediately.”

  “I think I’ll remember that.”

  “More tea,” Honoria asked, her voice strained.

  Josie took the hint and changed the subject. “I’m concerned about Dora. Her poor face. How is she doing?”

  “She’s under Mrs. Osman’s care,” Honoria said. “I tried to persuade Dora to take a few days off to rest, but she refused. I admit I’m relieved because of all the extra work necessary for the ball. I must be a terrible person to even...”

  “Nonsense. You are only being practical,” Mrs.

  Binns said. “Don’t worry yourself. I gave Mrs. Osman some herbs to make a poultice that works absolute wonders. Now, now, I’m sure Mrs. Osman is quite competent, but I never travel without my remedies. One never knows when a tisane or tonic will be needed.”

  “How did Dora explain her injuries?” Josie asked.

  “She walked into a door,” Honoria said.

  “Who would believe...”

  “No, she really did walk into a door,” Mrs. Binns said.“Apparently on her return from the folly, a bit tipsy some say, teary-eyed others insist, she was directly in front of a door when a footman kicked it open. He carried several heavy crates of food destined for storage in the icehouse until later tonight.

  “The door hit her, and she screamed and stumbled, tripping and falling onto her back. He twisted around to see what had happened, and a platter of stuffed capons slid out of the overfilled top box.Whether she was hit in the face yet again by the plate or by flying poultry no one could say, because the hunting pack arrived at the same time as the other servants. One of the dogs knocked over the footman, who then dropped the other crates, spilling out sweetmeats, puddings, and, to my complete dismay, all of the salmon tarts.”

  Horrified by her reaction to the story, Josie covered her mouth to hold back a giggle. Poor Dora.

  “Dogs snatching capons, footmen grabbing at dogs, maids waving their aprons and dishcloths to shoo them away but succeeding only in contributing to the chaos, shouting and falling all over the animals and each other, elbows and knees flying. Everyone running around higgledy-piggledy. Everyone except Cook, who fainted.”

  “Oh my.”

  “Oh my, indeed,” Honoria said with a sigh. “I fear my reputation as a hostess is in dire jeopardy.A ball without a supper is an affront to decency.”

  “Cook is recovered and talented,” Mrs. Binns said. “I’m sure your supper will pass muster, albeit without salmon tarts. Now drink yo
ur tea.We can all use a bit of relaxation.”

  “I may need more than verbena before the evening’s over,” Honoria lamented. “The ruined supper, the Wingates leaving in a huff...”

  Josie stifled a cheer.

  “Limping footmen,” Honoria continued. “Bruised and bandaged maids, holding a séance during the ball, and...”

  “A séance?” Josie perked up. So Dev had made good on his promise.Now she owed him that walk in the moon garden.

  “Let me go on record as saying I heartily disapprove,” Mrs. Binns said.

  “Noted,” Josie said, hoping to cut her verbose chaperone short and get to the details. She twisted in her seat to face Honoria.“Midnight? In the library?”

  “Actually,we’ll have to meet at eleven. Supper was already scheduled for midnight, and I haven’t the heart to ask Cook to change the schedule after all she has been through. Oh, no, what if she...”

  “Drink up. Everything will be fine,” Mrs. Binns said. “Cook will...”

  “Not Cook.What if Madame X cannot contact Amanu if it’s not midnight?”

  “Did she express any doubts?” Josie asked. If the séance was a bust, how would she get her evidence?

  “Not exactly,” Honoria said. “But she didn’t seem pleased with the idea of another séance tonight. I had to stand firm. Even so, it took both Estelle and me to convince her.”

  “And Lord Waite,” Josie added.

  Honoria looked confused.

  “He suggested another séance tonight?” Josie prompted.

  “Noooo. That was my idea. I was so disappointed that we failed to contact your father. I know what a comfort it can be to know your loved ones are happy.”

  “But Lord Waite helped you convince Madame X?”

  “Did he?” Honoria furrowed her brow.“No, he couldn’t have. Dev left the library right after you. I stopped by Estelle’s rooms to make sure Madame was recovering and to see if they needed anything. That’s when the subject came up. Dev most definitely was not there.”

  “Then how...”

  “I immediately sent notes to everyone. Didn’t you...”