Fair Maiden Read Free Page A

–he cleared his
throat when his voice croaked— “might I ask who you are?”
    She turned to look behind herself, her eyes still wide.
Then, when she apparently saw no one else around but her, she twisted back
toward him, and set one hand on her chest, then said in a voice that sounded
like a melodic breeze, “Me?”
    “Yes. Are you a guest whom no one told me about?”
    “I, uh…y-you can see me?”
    At that his brows tugged together. Because now that she
mentioned it, she did look slightly transparent . He could see the
tapestry-covered chair through her bodice. Christian stood abruptly, his chair
tipped backward with the sudden movement and rocked to the floor with a loud
bang. She’s not solid!
    Jackson opened the door and popped his head inside; clearly
he’d heard the commotion. “My lord, is everything all right?”
    Christian held a shaky hand out, pointing in her direction.
“Do-do you see?” he sputtered.
    The butler followed the line of his straightened finger and
frowned. The ghost looked at the old man as though she prayed he’d be able to
see her too. “See what, my lord?” Her face fell. “Is there a rodent? I’ll fetch
Nathan to take care—”
    “No, the woman seated right there!”
    Jackson looked again and squinted. “Sorry, no one is there.
Son, you must be tired. I suggest you retire early.”
    He opened his mouth to argue, then closed it realizing he
was the only one who could see her, and muttered, “Yes, thank you for supper.
It was divine and really hit the spot. Please tell Margaret for me, would you?”
    “I tasted the tea; surely you’re exaggerating when you say
it was divine.”
    Exhaling and reluctant to remove his gaze from the lady, who
smiled bashfully, yet pleasantly, Christian addressed the old man. “I’m
grateful for the meal; now please deliver my thanks….” He fell silent for a
moment as her honeyed tresses were stirred to life from an unseen source. The
colored ribbons adorning her curls also drifted with an otherworldly effect.
The fabric of her dress moved along with her hair as though a gentle breeze had
set upon it. However, he felt no draft that could be causing it, and the
windows were tightly shut. Her image shimmered and she was bobbing, as if she
were only attempting to create the illusion of actually sitting.
      A ghost . He swallowed and waved a hand in her
direction again. “You’re certain you see—?”
    “Nothing, Christian. I’m sorry. It must be fatigue wearing
on you. I’ll bring you some warmed milk to help—”
    “No, thank you. I’m too old for that,” he snapped, and then
cringed because he hadn’t meant to be so short with the age-frail butler.
    After passing one more nervous gaze in her direction,
Jackson nodded slowly, his mouth almost gaping, and then he left.
    Christian scrubbed a hand over his face and wondered what he
should do next. He knew troubled thoughts had been taxing him when he’d first
sat down to dinner, but he couldn’t recall much else besides his name at the
moment.
    She spoke again. “Can you truly see me? I’ve wanted so badly
to talk to someone—anyone.”
    “Yes, I can see you. How long have you been here?” He
couldn’t believe he was actually starting a conversation with an apparition,
pretty though she may be.
    “I know not. I awoke and have been wandering this empty
demesne for days now.”
    Nervously, though he tried to hide how nervously, he stepped
toward her, took hold of a chair in the middle that was closer to her end of
the table, and sat down.
    She may’ve been dead, but she was a breathtaking sight to
behold. The candlelight picked out the strands of bright-gold in her hair, and
he wanted to touch it, but knew that may not be acceptable. He didn’t want to
frighten her, then chuckled internally at how silly it was that he didn’t want to frighten her .
    “You’re the earl?” she asked, and her words brought him back
from his thoughts.
    “Yes, my name is Christian.” He