Sandra Heath Read Free

effective, you know. We really did disappear.”
    “Once out of sight, one is usually out of mind too, which, I suppose, is what we wanted. Come on, let us circulate and see if any of our reprobate descendants offer us some hope of redemption.”
    The wraiths descended the staircase. A little knot of guests was gathered at the bottom, and Jane was careful to step around them because of Rowley, but Kit passed right through. One or two people shivered, but no one saw anything at all, nor did the phantoms imagine for a single moment that anyone would. However, on that score they were soon to receive a considerable shock.
     

Chapter Two
     
    As the specters began to inspect everyone at the ball, Miss Henrietta Courtenay was with Charlotte, Lady Mulborough, who had been her close friend since their school days in Bath. The two young women had decided to sit for a while, because twenty-three-year-old Charlotte was expecting her first child at the beginning of February, and the rigors of the ball were proving quite wearying. She was also seeking the refuge of the red velvet sofa, which stood in a quiet corner and was flanked with ferns, in order to escape her adoring husband, who at sixty was considerably her senior. Russell, Lord Mulborough, had once been a senior secretary at the Treasury, and until he met Charlotte had been renowned for being stuffy, but she had changed all that. He had been her willing slave from the moment they met, and she returned the affection, but, oh, how he did fuss!
    Charlotte was dressed in a loose pink silk robe, her shining chestnut hair was worn in a Grecian knot, and her hazel eyes were warm as she smiled at her much loved friend. “Oh, it’s good to sit down for a while. The combination of being huge, dancing all night, and avoiding the fussing of one’s spouse, is really quite tiring. Besides which, we don’t seem to have had much opportunity to talk this evening, and I do enjoy a little gossip with you.”
    Henrietta laughed. She was the same age as Charlotte, and the fact that she was a Courtenay was immediately apparent, for she was Jane all over again, albeit in the flimsy fashions so deplored by that ghostly lady. In Henrietta’s case, the offending garment was a white silk gown embroidered with silver rosebuds. There was a diamond-studded comb fixed to her shining dark hair, which had been expertly tended by Charlotte’s maid, her own having suddenly left to be married on the eve of the journey to Yorkshire. Her right wrist was securely bandaged after a nasty fall while out walking, and as she employed her fan with her left hand, a rather cumbersome emerald betrothal ring caught the light.
    Charlotte winced suddenly, and Henrietta’s lavender eyes expressed concern. “Are you all right?”
    “Yes, it was only your godchild kicking a little forcefully.”
    Henrietta’s lips parted with delight. “My godchild?”
    “I warn you, I will not take no for an answer.”
    “Of course I accept!”
    “Good, for you are my dearest friend. You know, it’s a most curious thing, Henrietta, but I don’t feel as if there are five or more weeks to go; indeed it feels much more imminent than that.”
    Henrietta was alarmed. “You don’t mean you’ve started your pains?”
    “Oh, good Lord, no, it’s just an odd feeling I have. I know Dr. Hartley was very precise about my dates, and I’m about eight months, but all the same…” Charlotte laughed. “Oh, well, he should know, I suppose. After all, this is my first baby. He’s delivered them by the score.”
    “I’m surprised you’re being attended by Dr. Hartley. You always swore you’d secure Nurse’s services.” Henrietta thought of the frail gray-haired woman who lived in the small hamlet of Mulbridge, over the moors about half a mile inland from Mulborough. No one knew quite how old she was, but she had been Russell’s nurse and was universally regarded as the local midwife. Her real name was Miss Rose Hinchcliffe, but she