Rufus stared at Roderick sitting across from him at his desk and repeated, "She wrote a list about me?"
"Shall I recite your five flaws again?" Roderick replied with a chuckle.
"No," Rufus scoffed. "Once was enough." He sighed and shook his head, "She's perceptive, your sister."
"I did warn you."
"No, you told me she could discern a deception better than a pig could sniff out truffles."
Roderick grinned and lifted his shoulders in a shrug, "And in your case, she did."
Rufus relaxed in his chair and crossed his left ankle on his right knee. "Ah, yes, flaw number one."
"What exactly did you lie about?" Roderick quietly asked. "She only mentioned a little of what transpired with Madame Calvert toward you and Lord Emerson."
Memories of last night flashed within Rufus's mind, bringing with them the feeling of the room closing in. He wanted to escape, to go somewhere far away from the living and dead, if such a place existed. But not for forever, just long enough to remember what it was like to be an ordinary person.
Instead, he remained stuck in his study with Roderick and two new ghosts who'd made an appearance early this morning but refused to tell him their names or what brought them to his door.
Judging by the quality cut to their clothing, both men were well-to-do; however, something about them made him believe it was doubtful they belonged to the ton.
Bankers or tradesmen, he thought as he watched them. And until they started talking, Rufus could only imagine what might have happened for them to end up deceased and wandering the confines of his study.
All he could do was hope and pray they weren't planning on becoming permanent fixtures. He flicked one last glance at them pacing near the window, then returned his attention to Roderick and answered his question. "Your sister inquired if there had been any truth to the whole spectacle, and I told her she'd managed one or two lucky guesses."
Roderick studied him in silence, then clucked his tongue and shook his head, "No, it would have had to have been more than that for Elphi to accuse you of lying."
After a moment, Rufus reluctantly added, "I may or may not have said that I believed Madame Calvert was nothing more than an actress hired for the night."
"There it is," Roderick laughed. "Elphi is damned perceptive, isn't she? I don't know how she does it."
She was a damned nuisance, is what she was, Rufus silently corrected, and he was already regretting taking on her case.
"So, tell me then," Roderick said as he leaned forward in his chair, his gaze focused on Rufus, "do you think this Madame Calvert was a bonafide spiritualist? Elphi said she mentioned the boating accident."
Rufus swallowed. Yes, he thought she was. But he couldn't tell that to Roderick anymore than he could admit it outright to Elphi. "Someone could have told her."
"We are the only two people alive in all of England who knew about it."
"That we know of."
Roderick arched a brow.
Rufus arched one back. "Lady Sanham also supposedly didn't share our identities with her, but Madame Calvert knew mine, Lady Hickling, and Lord Emerson's as though she'd known us all her life."
"What else?"
"Nothing worth mentioning," Rufus murmured, "utter dribble."
"Such as?"
There were many ways he could answer that particular question. One of which might very well cost him his friendship and land him in the madhouse. But, perhaps if he chose the right inflection, he not only wouldn't have to lie, he'd be able to set the matter to rest, so there was no worry of it coming up in the future.
"You must know the silence is only serving to heighten my curiosity," Roderick said. He scooted to the edge of his chair, rested his elbows on his knees, and whispered, "What else did she say?"
Rufus glanced at the two ghosts who'd stopped pacing and watched him with rapt attention, then met Roderick's gaze, cleared his throat, and shrugged. "It wasn't my time to die, and death surrounds me."
Roderick was quiet for a moment before saying, "I suppose she's correct on both accounts."
"Considering what I do for a living."
Roderick nodded. "And that you are alive after drowning. She's got you pegged, old boy. Pretty good even if she is only a hired actress."
They fell silent, each lost in their thoughts, until Roderick relaxed in his chair and asked, "Did you get any sense on Elphi, whether or not she's c-u-r-s-e-d?"
"It's too soon to tell," Rufus said with a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "You're certain there are no enemies or jilted lovers from either her or her fiancés that might have come to mind now that you've had more time to think on it?"
Roderick shook his head, "Unfortunately, no. Why do you ask?"
Rufus sighed. "It would make it deucedly simpler to clear the matter up if there were. A pinpoint, if you will, rather than flailing about in the dark."
"I suppose to that end, it's fortunate for you that she's attending the Baron of Terreworth's séance next week. You'll be joining her as well, I trust?"
"Why?"
"I should think the answer to that question is rather obvious. You received an invitation; I can see it there on your desk."
Rufus groaned as he quickly covered the offending card and envelope with his left hand and hung his head. "She does realize there are other methods in which one might garner answers other than blasted séances, yes?"
Roderick snickered, "Yes."
"And?"
"We tried them." Roderick's shoulders lifted in a shrug, "Obviously, they didn't work, or I wouldn't have come knocking on your door, begging for help."
"You never knock," Rufus muttered with a roll of his eyes.
Roderick bit back a sympathetic smile as he met Rufus's gaze, "If it's any consolation, I despise the awful events as much as you do."
"But you'll be going to the Baron's as well?"
Roderick scoffed and shook his head, "Hadn't planned on it, no."
"If I'm going to subject myself to another one of these infernal things this month," Rufus grumbled, "you are going too."
The two stared at one another in silence, then Roderick rolled his eyes and bit back a chuckle as he relented, "Oh, very well, wish granted—but just the one."
"It's the least you could do."
"True," Roderick snickered, then became quiet for a brief moment, hesitating before asking, "And how are you feeling about the second rule, now that you've met Elphi?"
Visions of how she'd looked last night flitted through Rufus's mind and caught him off-guard, but he stubbornly pushed them aside and ignored the continual swarm of butterflies fluttering in his gut with every mention of her name. "You'll be pleased to know after last evening, I'm in no danger of falling in love with her."
"That's a relief... and according to her list, I believe the feeling is mutual," Roderick chuckled.
Rufus laughed.
Movement out of the corner of his eye caught his attention, and he turned to find one of the two ghosts approaching, a fearful expression on his face. Biting back a groan at the man's poor timing, Rufus relaxed in his chair and folded his arms across his chest as he motioned the ghost to a stop.
He held the ghost's gaze just long enough to let him know he wasn't pushing him off and would talk with him later, then turned to find Roderick watching with a thoughtful expression on his face.
Desperate to change the conversation before Roderick started asking questions Rufus didn't want to answer, Rufus said the first thing that came to mind, "Your sister mentioned she attends four séances a month."
Roderick snickered, "It's as though she knew precisely what to say to make you want nothing to do with her as a possible future bride."
"You mean," Rufus smiled, though it felt hollow, "you didn't supply her with a list of everything I detest in life?"
"Ha," Roderick laughed, "I didn't even tell her you'd be there."
"Why not?"
Roderick shrugged and shook his head as he dismissively waved his right hand. "Because if Elphi had known, she would have been on her best behavior."
"I see," Rufus murmured as he studied his friend, understanding all too well what Roderick didn't say. "Is she really so tempting when well-behaved that I wouldn't have been able to resist her allure?"
"Three. Engagements."
A bark of laughter escaped Rufus, surprising both men. Rufus quickly turned it into a coughing chuckle, murmured an apology, and then said, "You needn't fear on my account. I can assure you, my heart is well-guarded against all women after the little fiasco with Edwina."
Roderick paled and studied him for a quiet moment, then stood and said, "You, my friend, may have just thrown down the gauntlet to my sister's curse."
The following week, Elphi glanced at Roderick out of the corner of her eye for the twentieth time in the space of ten minutes as their carriage rumbled down the cobblestone road, sporadically illuminated by gas street lights along the way to their destination.
"Your face is going to freeze that way, Melphia Georgiana," he murmured with a pointed look. "If you have something to say, please do so. I'm on tenterhooks."
Elphi bit back a growl at him using her middle name and turned at the waist to meet his gaze. "I seem to recall you swore never to attend another séance after the fiasco at Lord Suthmeer's in November."
"You are correct; I did."
"And yet here you are."
Roderick's lips curled in a lopsided grin, "Observant as always, Elphi dear. Remind me to cancel the order I placed for your new spectacles on the morrow."
"Why have you decided to join me?"
He pushed the curtain aside to look out the window, deciding then and there not to admit Rufus had all but strong-armed him into attending. It would open an avenue of questions he didn't want to stroll down just yet. "I'm curious."
Elphi studied him as they came to a momentary stop within the glow of a street lamp, then said, "You're hoping it will be like last week."
"There's nothing wrong with that, is there?"
"No, there isn't," Elphi quietly agreed, "but it would be nice to finally be the one receiving answers for a change."
Roderick grunted in reply and allowed the curtain to swing into place, plunging the interior back into gloomy darkness only broken by an occasional sliver of lamplight.
He covered a yawn and adjusted his position on the well-sprung bench, tempted to close his already tired eyes and sleep the remainder of the ride. They had another ten to fifteen minutes, at least, and the night would be unendurable for him if he didn't.
But, instead, when the carriage slowed to turn the next corner, he found himself pushing the curtain aside as they passed the darkened front windows of Barkston Hall. He couldn't help himself, despite knowing Rosalind, the Lady of the house, wasn't currently in residence.
Rufus would have mentioned it. After all, she was his sister and the only member of his family he didn't do his damnedest to avoid when in a ten-mile radius.
It had been a long seven months since Rosalind had last been in town—two hundred thirty-one days, fourteen hours and twelve minutes to be exact. Not that Roderick allowed anyone to know he kept such a detailed accounting of the Marchioness's comings and goings from the city.
Or that she'd stolen his heart four years ago when he first laid eyes on her at her engagement ball to 'the catch of the season' Lord Reginald Keating.
Tall, handsome, and bestowed with thick locks of perfectly mused blonde hair, Lord Keating was the living embodiment of Adonis.
Standing next to the achingly beautiful and willowy Rosalind with her dark burnished curls resembling the color of burnt honey, the two made a striking pair.
It took all of one dance with Rosalind for Roderick to realize two things. One, he had never met any woman equal to her and never would again. And two, despite having only known of her existence for three hours and holding Rosalind in his arms for those few moments, there was no doubt from that moment on, his heart was ruined for any other woman.
But the dance ended, and he returned Rosalind to her waiting fiancé, ignoring the temptation to spend the next three months leading up to their wedding wooing her himself.
But having attended Eton and Cambridge with Reggie, Roderick knew his kind and easy-going nature wasn't a façade. Damn the man. If he weren't so likable and obviously in love with Rosalind, Roderick would have swooped in without a moment's hesitation and stolen her away.
So, for the past one thousand five hundred forty-nine days and twenty-one hours, he'd secretly pined after the woman he loved from afar. He'd even stooped to such depraved lows as to keep one of Rosalind's monogrammed handkerchiefs in his desk drawer locked away for the past two years after she dropped it at the theatre.
He and Rufus had gone on a rare evening out with two women, sisters or cousins perhaps, that Roderick now couldn't recall the names of. They arrived and were wending their way through a crush of people in the lobby when suddenly the crowd shifted, and Rosalind and Reggie stood directly in front of him.
Rosalind's tantalizing floral scent tickled his senses and brought quiet strolls through lush gardens on warm summer days to mind.
Her pale blue eyes met his, and his heart slammed against his ribs, knocking the breath from his lungs. He stood there, frozen, unable to look away for several seconds.
They exchanged greetings and brief introductions before Roderick forgot about everyone else and focused his attention solely on Rosalind.
"Lady Keating... you look lovely as ever."
"Thank you, Lord Matson," she had murmured, holding his gaze as a becoming shade of pink stained her cheeks, "it's a pleasure to see you again. It's been far too long."
"Indeed it has." One hundred twenty-three days, to be precise.
"You've fully recovered from your recent illness, I hope? Rufus mentioned you were unwell."
Roderick had stood there, soaking in the genuine concern in her voice. "Yes, thank you."
The lights dimmed overhead, silently signaling that the performance was about to begin and to seek their seats.
"Shall we, my dear?" Reggie had murmured as he settled his left hand possessively at the small of Rosalind's back and nodded in parting before escorting her away.
Rufus, Roderick, and the women at their sides moved to follow when a folded square of white cloth where Rosalind had stood caught Roderick's gaze. A two-inch wide border of tatted lace edged the handkerchief and drew the eye to the subtle white on white "RTK" monogram.
Considering where he'd found it and the initials stitched on it, there was no doubt in his mind to whom it belonged, so Roderick quickly stuffed it in his pocket and hurried to catch up with Rufus and the women.
The only question he couldn't help asking himself as they found their seats and the play began was whether Rosalind had dropped the handkerchief by mistake or if she'd done it on purpose.