Laurie Brown (2 page)

“That’s different.” Josie jumped up from her chair. “Science—real science—deals with facts. Quantum theory proves time distortion
is possible only if one travels faster than the speed of light, which is physically impossible.”

Deverell also stood as good manners decreed he should. He was not surprised by her reaction. He did not expect a scientist
to believe easily. But he had researched her career quite thoroughly before choosing her.Possessed of quick intellect, she’d
written several articles on techniques of detection that revealed that she was not only logical and precise but also open
to innovation. He schooled his expression to one of blasé disinterest that he had used so successfully when holding a winning
hand at the gaming tables. In truth, it mattered not in the least whether she believed; it mattered only that she agree to
help him.

She appealed to Amelia for support. “You can’t seriously think he...”

Amelia looked to Deverell.“When you go back, will you confront Sir Albert? Perhaps he knows where the jewels are?”

“Bah!” Deverell’s mouth twisted with a sour taste at the very thing that had obsessed his mother and caused her to fall prey
to every charlatan who claimed a dubious connection to the afterlife.“The emeralds are a myth perpetuated by fools and believed
by the foolish. I, Madame, am neither.”

“Who is Sir Albert?” Josie blurted out.

Deverell wished Amelia hadn’t mentioned that despicable old pirate, but now that she had, he must offer some sort of explanation.
“Albert was the ghost of the castle prior to me.”

Josie put her fingers to her temples and pressed.

“Two of them?” she muttered. Her equipment had detected nothing!

“Please pay attention. I find repeating myself quite tedious.Albert was here prior to me, and he is not relevant to my plan.Now
as to the matter of your role...”

She shook her head.“You’re crazy.Your plan is crazy. And I’d be crazy to listen to any more of this...this...nonsense.” She
turned and went to the door.

Over the years Deverell had refined the skills of a simple poltergeist to a fine art.With no more effort than a flick of his
fingers, he caused the door to shut and the lock to click into place. She was his best hope for success, and he could not
let her walk away before she’d had a chance to fully consider his offer. Surely she would come to her senses. He allowed Josie
a few minutes to struggle with the door and with herself. His inquiries had led him to believe that she would embrace an opportunity
for unusual research, but the behavior of modern women was difficult to predict. Particularly, that of modern American women.

Josie stared at the immovable door. Somehow she knew that Deverell was responsible. How dare he presume to keep her prisoner?
She tugged on the doorknob with both hands. That ghost was a menace. Ghost? Damn.

Of course she’d always hoped to find definitive evidence of a ghostly phenomenon. As a paranormal investigator she should
have been prepared for the unexpected. So what had she done in the face of the overwhelming experience of coming face-to-face
with a fully materialized ghost? Had she reached for the digital camera in her purse? Tape recorder? Any device?

No. She had tried to leave.

She let her head fall forward, banging it on the ornate carved wood, but even pain couldn’t stave off the hot blush of embarrassment
that had been the bane of her red-headed existence. Where was her professionalism? Her scientific detachment?

“All I ask is that you hear me out,”Deverell said.

She took a deep breath and released it slowly to the count of ten. Panic attack under control and outwardly composed, she
returned to her chair and took out her camera. Since none of her scientific instruments had previously detected his presence,
she held slim hope that the small camera would, but she had to try.

“May I?” she asked him.

After she was seated he also returned to his chair.

“Yes, however,” he hesitated at the flash then con-tinued,“ I doubt you’ll be satisfied with the results.”

The tiny screen displayed an empty chair. She adjusted the settings. “Say cheese.” Again nothing. On the fifth try she got
a hazy spot that could easily be a reflection of the fading sunlight.With a muttered curse she dropped the useless piece of
equipment back into her purse.

“Shall I continue?” Lord Waite asked as if her rash exhibition hadn’t taken place. Josie nodded, then picked up her cup of
lukewarm tea, concentrating on keeping her cup from rattling against its saucer.

“I have determined that the best time for you to be present for a séance will be at one of my mother’s frequent summer house
parties. In order to act the part of a guest, certain training will be required. Amelia and I will tutor you in manners, decorum,
and dress. I have written instructions.” He handed Amelia some folded papers. “I am allowing one week for this course of study.”

“That’s insufficient,” Amelia argued, leafing through four pages of precisely spaced, flamboyant handwriting. “Young women
spent years learning what you expect Josie to absorb in days.”

“One week will be sufficient. Miss Drummond’s letter of introduction will place her as the long-lost, great-niece of the Duke
of Landemere. Society always welcomes excellent breeding. As the heiress to a significant legacy, any
faux pas
will be tolerated as an eccentricity. In fact, from an American, less than perfect behavior will be expected.”

Josie bristled at the insult. “I thought the essence of good manners was not to offend,” she said with mock innocence. Satisfied
at their twin expressions of chagrin, Josie changed the subject. “Other than the obvious flaw in your grand plan, that being
the whole time travel thing, won’t the Duke object to a surprise relative?”

Deverell had quickly masked his contrite expression with one of bored indifference. “Luckily, his grace was in his dotage
and quite the recluse. Never left his estate. Never had any visitors. Perfect for my purpose.”

“How accommodating of dear Uncle Landy,” Josie said with an oh-so-sweet smile. Although Deverell had dropped the ugly American
theme, his superior attitude kept her on the defensive. She didn’t like lying, and she told him so.

“A certain shading of the truth is necessary.” He heaved a dramatic sigh. “If it makes you feel better, you are, in fact,
related to Landemere on your mother’s side through his sister who married an American before the Colonial War. Satisfied?
Now may I proceed?”

He was crazy, and obnoxious, but Josie couldn’t deny her curiosity or her attraction to him. He was, hands down, the most
interesting man she’d met in...ever. She nodded.

“I will be there to smooth over any difficulties. Once at the house party, you will observe the séance and expose the fraud.
I’ll bring you back to the present, and the problem of finances will have been solved at the source. Simple and straightforward.”
Deverell sat back as if he expected applause for his brilliant scheme.

Amelia complied.“What a marvelous idea.”

Josie tuned out the gushing praise and sorted through the facts. She firmly believed that any attempt at time travel would
fail.Obviously,Deverell wasn’t up to date on physics. But, if she agreed to play along with his plan, she’d have seven full
days to question the ghost about his existence.Think of the value to her research.This was the opportunity of a lifetime.
She’d get the BS Grant for sure. On the other hand, she’d also have to spend a week with the overbearing, devastatingly handsome
Lord Waite.

“Why do you need me?” she asked. “You said you would be there.Why don’t you do it yourself?”

Deverell nodded, a tacit acknowledgment that her question was intelligent and appropriate, something he seemed to have difficulty
admitting aloud.

“Naturally I first considered accomplishing this myself. However, since I was alive at the time, if I were to appear fully
materialized, I could offer my mother advice only as myself. Guidance I’m quite sure she would ignore.”

Deverell forestalled Amelia’s argument with an elegant swipe of his hand.“I have no illusions about my mother’s opinion of
my rakehell, misspent life.” He pulled on the cuffs of his jacket. “The other option, disguising myself and attending the
séance as a ghost, would only prove the gypsy seer’s proclaimed ability.”

Josie nodded her acceptance of his explanation.

“I know the seer was a charlatan,” he said.

Her experience supported his belief. If a ghost could be produced on demand, her job would be much easier.“Why me?” she asked
again.

Deverell cleared his throat. “I do not have the expertise necessary to determine how the seer produced her apparitions,” he
mumbled his confession quickly, without looking at Josie.

That was probably as close as he’d get to admitting he needed her. Josie suppressed her smile with the same effort Deverell
had undoubtedly exerted to swallow his pride.

“I accept your offer,” she said.

Deverell smiled.

“On one condition.”

His quick grin faded.

“Of course, you’ll be paid,” Amelia said. She squinted and bit her bottom lip as if calculating the balance in her checkbook.“This
is a bit beyond the terms of your contract.”

Josie fought the irrational desire to make him smile again, fought the warmth his seductive grin had started inside her. She
had a sneaking feeling the phrasing of her condition would prove important, and she wanted to cover all her bases.

“My contract stands, as I had originally expected to spend another week or so here. If you still wish to proceed despite the
certainty of failure...”

Deverell tilted his head and motioned with his elegant hand for her to continue.

“I’d like your word that you’ll answer all of my questions about your existence to the full extent of your knowledge.” Josie
had felt confident with her request when he clamped his jaw so tight that a muscle in his neck throbbed, but her fleeting
elation changed into uncertainty when he visibly relaxed.

“I accept,” he said with another devastating smile.

What had she left out? Why did she feel like the kid with the short half of the candy bar?

“With one condition of my own,” he added.

Uh oh. What could he want? Josie held her breath.

“You will not monitor my every movement with your infernal gadgets.”

“My
scientific instruments
will provide important material for future analysis and reference.That material is the only reason I agreed to your scheme.”

“Let me assure you that I am capable of expending the appropriate amount of negative energy to erase any recordings you may
make. However, I am asking for your word that it will not be necessary.”

Josie crossed her arms.“I’m a scientist by inclination and education. I cannot change my nature on your whim.”

Deverell’s laugh sounded more like a bark. “Hardly a whim. Dodging your monitors has proven a bothersome restriction. As to
your inclinations, you will gain much in the form of empirical knowledge. No recordings. However, I will concede so far as
to allow you to record your observations the old-fashioned way.You may take notes.That is my condition.”

Josie was tempted to argue. Here was the perfect excuse to call off the whole deal. If she did walk away, would she always
regret the missed opportunity? Maybe. Probably. Definitely. She agreed before common sense made her change her mind.

“Excellent!” Deverell said. “We shall begin immediately.”With a flick of his wrist, he caused two books to fly off the library
shelf and into his grasp. He held the volumes out toward Josie.

“How did you do that?” she asked.

“What?”

“Make those books jump into your hand?”

“Did I?” he answered, looking from the books to the shelf.“I wasn’t aware....”

His expression reminded her of a boy caught near a broken window with a baseball bat in his hand. Josie wasn’t buying the
innocent act. “You agreed to answer my questions. Going back on your word already?”

“Certainly not. A gentleman’s word is not to be doubted.”

She gave him a stare that said
I’m waiting
.

Deverell’s lips twitched as if to subdue a smile.

“Don’t you have documented instances of a poltergeist moving objects?” he asked.

“Of course,” she said.“But I want to know
how
you do it.”

Deverell shrugged. “I’ve never thought about it one way or the other. In the future, I will endeavor to pay closer attention
to my actions so I can keep to the letter of our agreement,” he said, presenting the books again.

Realizing that was all the answer she was going to get for now, Josie leaned forward and took the heavy volumes, careful not
to touch his hand in the transfer. She wouldn’t exactly admit she was afraid of physical contact with the ghost, but she justified
her precaution as scientific prudence. When she peeked up at him, he gave her a knowing grin.

“Can you read my mind?” she asked, voicing a sudden fear and trying to remember all her earlier thoughts.

“I’m a ghost,” Deverell said. “Not some sort of common psychic entertainer. I cannot read minds, nor would I want to if I
could.”