“That’s not a profession,” I whispered back. “What the hell are you eating?”
“Marmite,” he answered enthusiastically, gesturing at a jar of sticky brown gloop. “It’s yeast extract.”
“Yum?”
“So I heard you went on a little expedition today?” Gran cut in. I narrowed my eyes at Rory. Trust him to rush home and give a blow-by-blow description of events.
“If getting coffee can be considered an expedition,” I said lightly.
“Well, Joseph Parrish is a very decent young man. He’ll be a good friend to you while you’re here.”
“Thanks for the stamp of approval, Gran,” I said. “Do those women really call themselves ghost busters?”
“I told you, they prefer the term paranormal investigators,” she replied. “They visit old homes around the country and record their findings.”
“Are they legit?”
“I don’t know, Chloe. I don’t ask to see a résumé when someone makes a booking. A paying guest is a paying guest. Just remember you’re a Kennedy, and be polite if they try to enlist your help.”
“What kind of help? Do you think there’s something here to investigate?”
“Don’t be silly, of course not. Nobody does. But don’t go telling them that.”
I focused on my dinner, attempting to hide the slab of rare meat under my mashed potato. Apparently, the potato was pretty much the only vegetable recognized in England. Except for a side dish of beans boiled into a green slush. I figured the L.A. kale craze hadn’t reached the village of Wistings yet.
After dinner I headed upstairs to get started on Madame Bovary for AP Lit. Sam and Natalie had been fairly unimpressed to learn I was taking AP Lit in the first place, but I enjoyed reading, and analysis was something that came naturally. As I left the dining hall, I walked past the paranormal investigators and felt their eyes boring into me.
* * *
When I opened my bedroom door, I jumped back in surprise. Alex was there, lying on top of my bed, legs crossed lazily at the ankles. His long hair was tied in a soft ponytail, loose locks falling over his eyes as he read an article from a magazine, wearing an expression of intense concentration. He glanced up briefly as I came in.
“What’s a G-spot?”
I walked over to him and calmly took away the copy of Cosmopolitan that had him so engrossed.
“Nothing you need to worry about. What are you doing here anyway?”
It was hard to ignore how captivating he looked with the lamplight illuminating his skin and the blue of his eyes so clear they looked almost transparent.
“Waiting for you,” he answered with his usual charm.
“Glad to see you’ve made yourself at home.”
Although I wasn’t sure how, I noticed that Alex had got a fire going. I peeled off my damp coat and hung it over the back of a chair to dry.
“Did you know this was once my room?”
“Bit girlie for you, isn’t it?”
He smirked. “It didn’t look like this back then.”
“Well, now I know why you like hanging out here so much.”
“Do you mind?” How could I mind when his presence made Grange Hall come alive? The short time I’d spent with him was easily the most intriguing of my life. I had a feeling every moment we shared would be forever burned into my memory. So, no, I didn’t mind. But I couldn’t exactly tell him that. So I replied with a simple:
“I can share.”
“That’s very gracious of you.”
“Just so long as you don’t show up when I’m getting changed or anything.”
“That goes without saying,” Alex replied. “By the way, how was your rendezvous this afternoon with Joseph Parrish?”
“How did you…?” I began and then realized how redundant that question was. “It was fine, thank you.”
“I noticed you went unchaperoned.” It was hard to miss the note of censure.
“Excuse me?”
“A young lady must consider her reputation.” In one way his concern was touching, but the idea was so absurd it was hard not to laugh.
“You can’t be serious?” Clearly he was, as his face didn’t change. I thought about how best to illustrate the evolution of social norms. I dug out my cell phone and flicked through the photos until I found what I was looking for. I held it out for Alex.
“Good God.” His eyes widened. “Why do you carry images of harlots on your person?” I was glad Sam and Natalie weren’t around to hear that—they’d kick his ghostly butt. The picture was from the most recent Halloween festivities in Hollywood and the girls had gone all out…or all off, to be exact—there was skin and cleavage galore. If you looked closely you could even see a woman wearing nipple tassels in the background. Hey, welcome to Los Angeles.
“They’re my friends,” I told him. “That’s what girls look like in the twenty-first century.”
“But why would you choose to associate with such people?” he persisted.
I didn’t think my message was getting through. “They’re not prostitutes,” I said emphatically. “They’re ordinary middle-class girls living on the West Coast.”
Alex averted his eyes. “In that case, I do not approve.”
I kicked off my shoes and curled up in the armless slipper chair by the fire. “You can disapprove till the cows come home, but times have changed. Don’t be a dinosaur, Alex.”
“Pardon me?”
“Someone stuck in the past who won’t move with the times.”
“Technically I am stuck in the past,” he replied. “Is this Joe Parrish one of your suitors?”
I gave an audible sigh. “I hate to be the one that breaks this to you, but coffee dates are no longer automatically followed by an engagement.”
“And this is presumably what you wore?” His eyes traveled over my fitted sweater and tight jeans. He could have been checking me out, except for the expression of disapproval in his eyes.
“Is there something wrong with it?” I demanded.
“Not at all,” he replied. “It just doesn’t leave much to the imagination.”
“Well, excuse me for not wearing a petticoat and floor-length gown.”
Alex suppressed a smile. “Forgive me, I didn’t mean to be critical. You look very alluring.”
“In this?” I glanced down at my old jeans. “Oh man, you ain’t seen nothin’ yet.”
His mischievous smile and the way his eyes reflected the light made it harder and harder to think of him as a phantom. In the dark he wasn’t even nebulous; I could see him as clearly as my own hands.
“I’ve never encountered a girl like you, Chloe,” he said. “You’re quite remarkable.”
I felt myself blushing. I’d never been good at accepting compliments, even when I was fishing for them. When a guy paid me a compliment, my usual response was to come right out and contradict him. You have beautiful hair, Chloe. No, I don’t. It’s a mess. I really like that shirt on you. What, this old thing? I’ve had it forever. You’re really pretty. It’s just the light playing tricks with your eyes. Ugh. How hard was it to just say thank you?
I felt so uncomfortable with Alex watching me that I had to change the subject.
“How’s your day been?”
“Uneventful,” he replied, which immediately made me feel insensitive. “My days don’t vary. They usually blur into one…until now.”
Was he trying to tell me something? I wasn’t sure if I should trust my instincts. That was the reason Sam and Natalie never came to me for relationship advice. Characters in books never posed a problem, but my judgment was always off when it came to real life. But a new thought was spinning around in my head, like an out-of-control coin, and I needed to verbalize it.
“Were you in a
relationship when you lived here?” Alex went back to studying the floor. “Come on,” I prompted. “There had to be a girl.”
“Yes, there was a woman,” he said softly. “It was a long time ago.”
“She’s dead now, obviously,” I said and mentally kicked myself for being insensitive again. I never stopped putting my foot in my mouth.
“Some people are more powerful dead than they ever were alive.” I expected this to be followed by some form of explanation, but Alex remained silent, expectation hanging in the air.
“Want to talk about it?” It wasn’t just idle curiosity that prompted my question. There was a note in his voice that made me wonder if he needed to get something off his chest.
I guessed wrong. He gave a slight, distant shake of his head. “I have no wish to discuss her.”
“That’s fine. I’m sorry,” I said. “It’s not like we really know each other, after all.” I tried to hide my disappointment that he had chosen not to confide in me, when I was ready to share every last detail of my life.
“It’s not that I don’t trust you, Chloe.” His voice dropped an octave. There he went again, turning my name into a melody. It spun around the room like a magic charm, sending ripples down my spine. I had a sudden impulse to reach out and touch him. But I talked myself out of it. I was behaving like a child. Besides, was it even possible for me to touch him…and would he want me to?
“What is it, then?” I asked.
“It’s not a story I’m proud of.”
“It won’t change my opinion of you, if that’s what you’re worried about.” I got up and went to sit at the end of the bed, close enough for the toe of his boot to touch my leg if he moved just an inch.
“This house has a history,” Alex confided, his gaze traveling to the window. “A dark history.”
“Well, whatever happened couldn’t have been your fault.”
“What makes you so sure?”
“I can tell,” I replied confidently. “You’re a ghost and I’m not afraid of you, so you can’t be all bad.”
“Why don’t you tell me about you?” he suggested suddenly.
“I’m not that interesting.” He tilted his head, and I marveled at the regal planes of his face. It felt as if a young lord from a forgotten portrait was staring back at me.
“I beg to differ.”
“You don’t know anything about me.”
“I know there’s a story to tell. I have finely tuned instincts.”
“What do you want to know?”
“How old are you?”
“Going on eighteen. You?”
“I was twenty-three when I died.”
“That’s so young.”
“I certainly don’t feel young,” he replied. “Perhaps because I’ve had a century and a half to dwell on my mistakes.”
I shrugged. “We’ve all done stuff we’d like to forget.”
“You’re too young to say things like that. What regrets could you possibly have?”
I hesitated just a moment. “Um…I wish I’d told my mom I loved her more when she was around. Instead of fighting over stupid stuff like curfews and diets.”
“What makes you think you can’t tell her now?”
“Well, she’s not here, is she? That’s one minor problem.”
“Are you sure about that?” Alex’s entrancing blue eyes held mine. I struggled to look away, but his gaze was too intense. “Do you think the people we love ever really leave us?”
“I’ve wondered about that,” I whispered. “I don’t know. But if she’s around, why can’t I see her the way I see you?” Alex sat up a little straighter and looked at me intently.
“I’m fairly certain your mother has crossed over.”
“Then she isn’t here, is she?”
“Once you cross over, you can no longer reach the living,” he explained. “But that doesn’t mean you can’t watch over them. Your mother sees you, Chloe. Every tear and every smile.”
I turned my face away. His words, although intended to offer comfort, were like opening a wound that had just started to close over. I felt like I was wading into uncharted waters without a life raft.
“How can you know that if you’re still here?”
Alex sprang up and walked to the window, where he stood with his back to me, his hands holding the sill. “I hear whispers from the other side.”
I didn’t know what else to say. My grief was back, threatening to drag me under. I didn’t want him to see that. I wasn’t ready to share that part of me with him yet.
“Isobel,” he said out of the blue.
“Excuse me?”
“The woman. Her name was Isobel.”
“Oh.”
I wasn’t sure if he was trying to distract me, but it worked. I tried to imagine this woman from the past. Of course, she would have a captivating name like that. Isobel. It was the name of someone you wouldn’t want to mess with. It even sounded ominous, like the tolling of a bell. It conjured images of a cloaked woman riding bareback across windswept moors. Someone named Isobel would take risks and command attention. I already didn’t like her.
Alexander moved to my dresser, where he idly picked up a bottle of perfume I’d packed. He turned it over in his hands.
“Was she your wife?”
“Isobel was married, but not to me.”
That caught me off guard. What was he hinting at? Had she been an unrequited love? That was hard to believe. I was pretty sure Alex could charm the pants off any woman he wanted. If he had this much lure in death, I could only imagine what he’d been like in life. He was captivating, witty and intelligent, and there was something in his eyes that made you want to melt. I was tempted to ask for details but couldn’t bring myself to. I was too busy feeling humiliated for thinking he might have been interested in me. Whatever his feelings were for this Isobel, they were clearly unresolved. And everyone knew you couldn’t compete with a memory. Memories were perfect and reality was flawed.
“She made a bad decision,” Alex continued without prompting. “And she was forced to live with the consequences. Women didn’t have the choices they enjoy today.”
“What kind of bad decision?” I urged, even though I wasn’t sure I wanted to hear more.
“A marriage not founded upon love and respect is bound to end in disaster, wouldn’t you agree?”
“Why would she marry someone she didn’t love?”
“Many reasons,” he said. “Financial stability, social position, breeding, to name a few. Her family encouraged the union.”
“And you two fell in love even though she was off-limits?”
“Isobel was part enchantress. It was impossible not to desire her. She had that effect on everyone she came into contact with, men and women alike. I used to watch people around her. No one could refuse her anything.”
I wished I hadn’t pushed for information that would leave my ego in tatters. How could I have been so naive? Alex liked me because I was a good listener. He had a story he needed to tell, and I was the only audience available. Anything more was the product of my imagination. Immediately, I felt my defenses go up. I couldn’t put myself in a position where I might get hurt. Not right now.
“She sounds amazing,” I said flatly.
“She was. I’d never met a woman I was so drawn to,” Alex continued. “Our bond was magnetic. But then life ruined her—it made her bitter and ugly inside. I tried but I couldn’t save her. So I gave up.” He looked out at the silver moon hanging in the velvet sky. I could almost see its reflection in his sorrowful eyes. “And then you came into this house like a breath of fresh air, Chloe Kennedy.”
What was that weird ripple I felt in my chest? I’d never experienced the literal sensation of falling for someone before. When he talke
d like that, it felt like the floor was about to give way beneath my feet. I knew he wasn’t exactly declaring his love; it was merely a suggestion of what might be. But it made me feel lighter inside, like I weighed next to nothing.
“Well, I try,” I said as indifferently as I could manage. But Alex saw through my charade, and his lip twitched in a smile.
As I drank in the details of his face, I could feel the distance between us closing. It might be imprudent and it might be irrational, but something was happening here, even if I couldn’t find a label for it. Time and space dissolved around me, and I felt like I’d been waiting all my life for Alexander Reade to show up.
CHAPTER NINE
I heard someone at the door and felt my heart lurch in my chest, but it was only Rory bursting in with his usual disregard for privacy.
“Rory! You have to knock. How many times do I have to tell you?”
“But the door was open.” He seemed surprised by my flustered manner.
“That’s not the point.”
“Who were you talking to?” my brother asked curiously. He was looking at me like he wasn’t sure my mental faculties were intact.
“What do you mean?” I growled, trying to buy myself time as I thought up a plausible excuse.
“I heard you. Just now.”
“No one. I was rehearsing a speech.” I grabbed Madame Bovary from the bedside table and waved it at him. “School project, okay? What do you want?”
“Relax. Gran and I are going to see a movie. I was just seeing if you wanted to come.”
“No.”
“Well, sorry for trying to be nice.” Rory’s face as he backed away made me immediately contrite.
“I’m sorry.” I held up my hands. “I didn’t mean to snap at you. I’m just tired. I’ll come next time, okay?”
“Sure.” He nodded. My brother was never one for holding a grudge. He knew way before his years that life was too short for that. “’Night, Chloe. Love you.”
“I love you, too,” I called after him. “Have fun!”
I looked around for Alex, who had vanished the moment Rory appeared.