“If you decide later this evening that you prefer not to entertain Mr. Philbert’s specter,”—she gestured toward the house—“you and your friends may join us. I’m certain the intrusion wouldn’t upset any of our guests.”
“Thank you for your kind offer,” the Duke of Lennox replied and bowed, his body stiff. “However, I shall have to decline.”
Helena curtsied and dropped her head, blinking back tears as the rigid formality of his words dashed any blossoming hope that the Duke of Lennox nurtured an affinity for her.
When she lifted her gaze, she locked eyes with an alarming apparition from her past. Her heart stopped.
It wasn’t possible.
Pushing past the Duke of Lennox, Helena ran to the gate. She peered around the side, seeking the familiar coffee-brown hair of Selena Drummond, but the woman had vanished. Trembling, Helena leaned her cheek against the fence post’s frozen metal and stared at the empty street.
Had she imagined seeing Humphrey’s younger sister?
CHAPTER TWO
LEVI OVERTON, DUKE OF LENNOX
Roxburghe reached Miss Rowe first, igniting an unexpected flash of envy that rippled through Levi’s body. He wasn’t certain why she’d shoved him aside to rush—coatless—across the snow-covered grounds toward the street, but her behavior concerned both himself and Roxburghe.
Whose fingers didn’t need to touch Miss Rowe’s bare arm, even if it was merely to draw her attention…
Levi’s eyes narrowed, and he quickened his pace to reach her side, fighting the desire to smack Roxburghe’s hand away from her shoulder.
“Miss Rowe, is anything the matter?” Levi asked, forcing his fist to unclench. “You seem quite distraught.”
She turned, her porcelain face straining into a half-smile. “I thought I recognized someone strolling by the house, but I must have been mistaken. I apologize if my behavior caused you any concern.”
Miss Rowe offered a hasty curtsey to both Levi and Roxburghe, then crossing her arms over her chest and shivering, she hurried back to the house, disappeared inside, and slammed the door behind her, knocking loose a shower of snow that fell from the roof’s edge and dusted the stoop beneath.
“That was bizarre.” Roxburghe glanced at Levi as he strode to his coach.
“Not as strange as the incidents I’ve witnessed since Mr. Philbert’s death,” Levi muttered, climbing into his carriage.
Frowning, Roxburghe followed, claimed the bench opposite Levi, and sank onto the cushion, stretching out his long legs. “You said there was nothing amiss at your residence.”
“I didn’t want to cause any alarm.” Levi’s eyes flicked to the frosty window as his long-time coachman, Mr. Spencer, snapped a whip, encouraging the horses into a slow trot. “But your accusation of a potential haunting is far more accurate than you suspected.”
“Why didn’t you mention anything earlier?” Roxburghe shifted on his bench, leaning forward.
Levi forced his attention back to his friend. “The notion of a phantom is a lark. An actual spirit will drive people from my home.”
Roxburghe chuckled and reclined against the coach’s wall, tucking his hands behind his head. “Is that what’s concerning you? I thought you didn’t like visitors.”
“You,” —Levi stabbed his finger at Roxburghe— “don’t like visitors. I happen to enjoy social functions.”
“And it will be difficult to convince a lady to inhabit a haunted manor.” Roxburghe grinned.
“I’m not looking for a wife.” Levi’s eyes narrowed. “There are four of us still participating in your ludicrous wager, and I have no intention of losing to Beaufort.”
“If not a wife, then what are you searching for?”
“A plausible reason for why my possessions keep moving!” Levi’s ire rebounded off the coach’s ceiling.
Roxburghe’s playful demeanor vanished, and dropping his arms, he leaned forward again, adopting a serious tone. “Have you questioned your staff?”
“Of course.” Levi struggled not to roll his eyes. “That was the first step in my investigation.”
“And?” Roxburghe prodded when Levi didn’t elucidate.
