Chapter 4
The Vanns accepted Mercury’s invitation to remain for the night rather than resume their travels after dark. He ought to have felt a bit of triumph—relief, at the very least. But he couldn’t shake the Violet Giant’s words from his thoughts.
You don’t know.
And the memory of the enormous ghost’s deep, thrumming laugh reverberating through him was more unnerving still.
It hadn’t been a laugh of amusement, but something far more like gratification.
Gratification at knowing something someone else didn’t.
The satisfaction of being at an important advantage.
You don’t know.
While Mercury couldn’t say what it was he didn’t know, he fully suspected it was connected to his past. He was a runaway orphan who had traded ghosts without permission from the orphanage that had claim on his ghosts.
He was in violation of the law, and there were painfully steep consequences for that.
He expertly hid every outward indication of his internal worry throughout dinner and continued to do so as he, along with Tacey, the Vanns, and several of the ghosts, gathered in the drawing room afterward.
He didn’t dare inspire any questions about his heavy thoughts.
And he was excessively reluctant to let the Violet Giant see how upended he was.
He wrapped his hand around his iron key, tucked in his pocket, and pasted a benign smile on his face.
They’d been inside mere minutes when Holly Hock, one of Mercury’s ghosts, joined them.
She spent all her time in the gardens and wore actual physical flowers in her hair, though how she managed that Mercury hadn’t the first idea.
Ghosts were forever surprising him with their abilities and personalities.
Every single one was unique in some unexpected way.
Tacey was standing near him and said quietly, “I haven’t met her yet.”
“You’ll like her,” he said with a smile. “She’s kind and interesting and an exceptionally good listener.”
Mercury waved Holly Hock over. She crossed to him, her head a bit ducked, and a hint of a blush in her otherwise snow-white complexion. Meekness was one of her Integral traits.
“Mr. and Mrs. Vann, Miss Wilde, this is Holly Hock, one of the Aventine ghosts.” He looked over at Mrs. Vann. “Holly Hock tends the gardens.”
That pulled Mrs. Vann’s eyes wide and her mouth down in an O of excitement. The expression was a common one for her, Mercury had discovered.
Mrs. Vann flicked her feathered hand fan at a quick clip. “The grounds are gorgeous. I could have spent all day wandering them.”
Holly Hock dipped her head further and quietly but not timidly said, “Thank you.”
“Holly Hock doesn’t often join in our evening festivities, at least not when they are held indoors,” Mercury said. “But a couple of the ghosts requested music and dancing tonight, and she plays the pianoforte very well.”
“She can play the pianoforte?” Mrs. Vann looked even more amazed, fanning herself ever more quickly.
“I can.” Holly Hock adjusted one of the flowers in her hair, a serene expression on her face. Then she crossed to the pianoforte and “sat” on the stool in front of it.
Zizzy, who had been keeping to a corner, watching the new arrivals with her usual uneasiness, floated quickly to Mercury. Quietly and exclusively to him, she asked, “Do we get to dance now?”
“For as long as Holly Hock is willing to play.”
The sweet little ghost, whom Mercury had always guessed to be about fourteen years old, spun in a small circle. “Oh, this is going to be the very best night!”
She loved to dance, but she was nervous around strangers. The two feelings had obviously been warring inside her; Mercury was happy to see that doing something she loved was winning the battle.
“Let’s join in the dancing, dearest.” Mrs. Vann rose and set down her fan.
She urged her husband to stand as well and move to the open area in the room.
That Mr. Vann was sitting while his wife and Tacey were standing was unexpected.
The Vanns gave every indication of hailing from the gentry.
He would have been raised to always stand when ladies did.
Even Mercury, who hadn’t been taught such manners in the orphanage, had learned them as an adult and seldom forgot to adhere to them for more than the length of a breath.
A gentleman of Mr. Vann’s apparent birth and social standing never would.
Perhaps Mercury wasn’t the only one with secrets. If he sniffed out what that was before the Vanns realized his secrets, he might be able to leverage it. Blackmail wasn’t particularly his style, and he disliked that he was even thinking of it.
“You know that I do not enjoy dancing as you do,” Mr. Vann grumbled in answer to his wife’s inquiry.
“But to dance in a room full of ghosts who are also dancing! How can we not seize such a glorious opportunity?”
That Mr. Vann wasn’t the least impressed by the Aventine ghosts could not have been more apparent.
Mrs. Vann was far more likely to be convinced to remain and, should it prove necessary, to make a ghost swap.
Unfortunately, the Violet Giant wasn’t her attachment.
Sometimes it seemed fate was determined to undermine Mercury’s efforts to not be found out, stripped of all he had earned, and tossed into prison.
But Mercury had faced perplexing and difficult clients before, and he’d always managed to sort them. He knew he could do so again if only he could keep them at Aventine Manor long enough.
Holly Hock trilled the opening notes of a jig. Zizzy held her hands out to Baby Blue, who hurriedly joined the gathered ghosts, Mercury and Tacey.
“Please,” Mrs. Vann said to her husband. “We could dance with a little child ghost. A child!”
With a sigh of resignation, the man rose at last and trudged his way over. The dance began and, though he paid attention to the steps, Mercury also made a study of Mr. Vann.
A room filled with ghosts executing the steps of a reel was like watching a cobweb come to life.
Mercury had never known anyone who wasn’t at least a little struck by the sight.
But Mr. Vann looked almost bored. He offered the occasional obligatory fleeting smile to his wife, but nothing beyond.
She, on the other hand, looked as if she had never experienced anything so amazing in all her life.
The steps of the dance took Zizzy past Tacey, who was then next to Mercury.
“Do you still think I dance elegantly?” Zizzy asked her.
“Elegantly and expertly.”
The sweet specter continued on, grinning and holding her ghostly head high. Tacey had been wonderfully good for Zizzy, lifting her often heavy heart.
The dance separated them again, and Mercury found himself at the end of the line of dancers, where the Violet Giant stood, large as a boulder and wispy as morning fog.
Mercury stepped out of the line of dancers. “You don’t care to join in?”
“I like to watch,” he rumbled. “Your ghosts seem happy.”
“They are. I make certain of it, or at least do all I can to make their happiness possible.”
The Violet Giant nodded slowly. “Not everyone is so considerate of their attachments.”
“They should be.”
Baby Blue waved Mercury back into the formation. He retook his place. Everyone seemed to be enjoying the evening. Even Mr. Vann looked, if not pleased, at least not miserable.
The dancing continued through two more tunes before the humans in the room insisted they needed a moment to catch their breaths.
Ghosts did not breathe and, therefore, had no breath to catch.
They continued on with the dancing. All except Baby Blue.
He, as was his custom, curled on the sofa beside Mercury, and slept.
“This truly is a mesmerizing sight.” Mrs. Vann watched the ghosts with as much enthusiasm as she’d had when the evening began. “And the Quiet Queen is quite regal, isn’t she?”
Regal was not an inaccurate description of that particular ghost, though many chose the less generous descriptor “arrogant.”
“She makes an impression,” Mr. Vann conceded. It was the closest the man had come to sounding interested in anything to do with the Aventine ghosts.
Tacey must have realized the same thing. “I’ve come to know the Queen well. I would be happy to tell you anything you’d like to know about her.”
“My husband and I can speak to her ourselves.” Mrs. Vann smiled as she spoke, and her tone didn’t sound sharp or offended or dismissive.
Yet, Tacey seemed to feel some rejection in it; her smile faltered a little. “Of course— Of course you can.”
“I hope this means you’re planning to stay a day or two,” Mercury said.
Mrs. Vann turned fully toward her husband. “Oh, please. It would be such a delight.”
Mr. Vann sighed, his expression as grumbly as ever. “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to delay our journey a little.”
Mrs. Vann pressed her hands to her heart. “Wonderful!”
“It will be so lovely getting to know you both,” Tacey said.
“Yes.” Mrs. Vann’s gaze was immediately back on the ghosts.
Mr. Vann’s, oddly enough, was on Mercury, and he seemed to be attempting to sort something out. But he looked away quickly. The ghosts didn’t intrigue Mr. Vann, but maybe the ins and outs of brokering did. Or maybe he found the idea of a person with several ghostly attachments interesting.
Indulging a curiosity was a far more pleasant prospect than blackmail.
The dancing continued for another thirty minutes before the Vanns, reluctantly on Mrs. Vann’s part, declared themselves weary from their day of traveling and ready to retire for the night. Tacey insisted she too was weary and wished to return to Larissa Lodge.
Mercury accompanied her to the front door.
“Will you return tomorrow?” he asked, fully expecting an immediate confirmation.
But she hesitated. “The Vanns do not seem overly fond of me. My presence here might actually frustrate your efforts to—” Her brow pulled in thought.
“I’m actually not sure what it is you are attempting to accomplish with them.
Gain their approval, perhaps. But I cannot imagine why you are so determined to have that when you know absolutely nothing about them. ”
“Only wishing for them to leave with a favorable opinion.” That was not at all the entirety of it, but he couldn’t tell her more without confessing to things he could not. “And I do not think they disapprove of you. I get the impression Mr. Vann, at least, is not easily persuaded to be gregarious.”
“They did both say they were tired,” Tacey conceded. “Perhaps they will be more friendly tomorrow.”
“I hope so. I will see you tomorrow, Tacey.” He took her hand, lifting it to his lips, then lightly kissed it.
Simply having such an uncharacteristically intimate impulse was strange enough. To have actually acted upon it was utterly baffling. More confusing still, he didn’t immediately release her hand.
Tacey smiled at him, and his heart caught just a little. The tiniest flicker of something he couldn’t define.