Chapter 8
From the moment he’d shaken the dust of the orphanage off his feet at thirteen, Mercury had prided himself on being utterly unflappable.
He navigated the most daunting of situations with composure and competence.
He sorted out clients who didn’t seem to know themselves what they wanted in a ghostly companion.
When brokering a swap with them wasn’t possible, they left having had a good experience and still more likely than not to try their hand at Aventine Manor again.
He kept the peace in his home even with twenty ghosts with their own unique personalities, needs, and oddities.
But he left his bedchamber the next morning, exhausted for the second day in a row, feeling uncharacteristically tense, and still carrying a useless iron key in his pocket.
He wasn’t accustomed to patience requiring effort.
But he could feel that it would that day. And he wasn’t enjoying the experience.
Tacey was in the breakfast room when he arrived there. The rain running in rivulets down the window matched what had been falling the night before. She could not have returned to Larissa Lodge without enduring a soaking, and that had hardly seemed necessary.
Mercury fetched himself a cup of tea, then sat at the table across from Tacey.
“You look tired,” she said.
“My bedchamber has become quite the place for middle-of-the-night ghostly social gatherings.” He took a sip.
“Oh, dear.” Tacey’s eyes danced. She pressed her twitching lips together, barely keeping a laugh under the surface.
“We’ll see how entertaining you find it when it is your sleep they are disrupting.”
The amusement didn’t leave her eyes, and, truth be told, he liked seeing it.
“I will simply have to measure which part of Larissa Lodge is more than five hundred feet from your bedchamber and retreat there each night.” She shrugged. “None of your ghosts will be able to reach me, and I will sleep quite soundly.”
“Well, then I will simply press you on another topic altogether.”
Her smile remained. For a moment, he just looked at her, drawn by the simple beauty of that expression. A sincere, lighthearted smile. It was a lovely thing.
He pulled himself together quickly and pushed ahead. “What have you learned about Mrs. Padmore’s preference in ghosts? While it is, at least at this point, Mr. Padmore’s ghost they wish to trade, her opinion matters a great deal as well.”
“‘At this point?’” She scooted her chair closer to his, watching him intently. “Do you anticipate them changing their mind about which ghost to swap? Is that a common thing when brokering a trade?”
He planned to do all he could to make certain the Padmores changed their minds. But he couldn’t admit that to her without creating an additional predicament for himself.
“Their motivation for making this swap was to return home with two ghosts who get along well and who will contribute to the harmony of their household. They may discover that swapping the Cream Canary for a ghost who is a good match for the Other Hand is the better method of achieving that.”
She nodded, a ponderous expression on her face. “I hadn’t thought of that. I suppose a good broker needs to be open to unexpected trades.”
“I have found many times that my clients come here expecting a very specific solution to their spectral needs and have overlooked a far better one. It is part of a broker’s job to see options their clients don’t.”
Tacey took a deep breath as she set her shoulders. “Knowing that, I, too, will keep an open mind about clients and what they ask for compared with what they actually want.”
“Excellent plan.” Another sip of tea helped further wake him. He was tired, but he wasn’t shattered. “Please, tell me what you have ascertained about Mrs. Padmore.”
Her smile returned fully. He focused on his tea so as not to be distracted by it again. “I have been very useful, Mercury. You will be so pleased to have me as your partner in this.”
“I already am.”
Her smile grew. He needed to grow accustomed to it or he would soon be unable to accomplish anything when Tacey was in a good mood.
“Mrs. Padmore is utterly besotted with Baby Blue,” Tacey said. “She finds the Quiet Queen uncomfortably intimidating. She has little desire to join the social whirl in London and, as near as I’ve been able to tell, is happiest at home.”
A gentle ghost, then. And one who was quiet and content.
“She also has mentioned at least a dozen times how very clever both the Cream Canary and the Other Hand are,” Tacey continued. “And she says it with pride rather than fretfulness or a sense of overwhelm.”
Mercury nodded. “An intelligent ghost, with a quiet and peaceful disposition.”
“And, preferably, one that is perpetually five years old,” Tacey added.
“Baby Blue doesn’t wish to be traded, and I’ll not force him.”
“Because you’d miss him too much.” Tacey took a sip of tea.
“Because I promised him I wouldn’t.”
Her gaze narrowed on him a little. “But that isn’t the entirety of it, is it? You are different with him and Zizzy. Protective and caring.”
“I care about all my ghosts,” he insisted.
“But it’s not the same. I think you would struggle to part with Baby Blue and Zizzy, even if they begged you to let them go.”
An emotion Mercury refused to identify clenched at his heart. He caught himself checking the thread that tied him to Baby and Zizzy, assuring himself it was still there, that they were still there.
Tacey’s eyes darted a bit to the side of him in the my-Invisible-attachment-is-talking-to-me expression he now recognized so readily. She gave a quick nod before returning her attention to Mercury.
“Mr. and Mrs. Padmore are approaching and, by all appearances, are likely looking for you.”
While Mercury would have appreciated escaping them even for a moment, he hadn’t that luxury. He took his final sip of tea, stood, and walked toward the door. He reached it just as the young couple did. Literally in the very instant. He still had one foot inside the breakfast room.
“I know which ghost I would like to swap for,” Mr. Padmore said.
A glance at Mrs. Padmore revealed undeniable surprise. This, then, hadn’t been discussed between them.
“I have thought it over since we spoke yesterday,” Mr. Padmore said. “I am even more convinced Granny Grey would be an excellent choice for us.”
Mrs. Padmore’s mouth tensed, and her eyes darted between them. She was not in favor of the swap, which offered Mercury an opening. Granny Grey, after all, had to remain at Aventine every bit as much as the Cream Canary.
“You are swapping your Originary attachment,” Mercury reminded Mr. Padmore. “Every immediate family member in your household has to be in agreement. I have reason to suspect you have not reached that point yet.”
Mr. Padmore looked at his wife. “Do you not wish to swap for Granny Grey?”
“I don’t . . . object to her.”
Mercury stepped the rest of the way out of the breakfast room. “Some brokers might be willing to undertake an Originary swap without the family members all being enthusiastic, but I will not. A harmonious household is an important thing and is the very outcome you came to Aventine Manor to secure.”
Mr. Padmore took his wife’s hand. “I hadn’t intended to run roughshod over you, dear. If you aren’t in favor of Granny Grey, we can discuss other options.”
She smiled softly at him. “I didn’t want to dampen your enthusiasm.”
“Have any of the other ghosts caught your interest, dear?”
“I do adore Baby Blue,” Mrs. Padmore said. “He is so sweet and lovely. And I think he and the Cream Canary would get along quite well.”
“They likely would.” But Mr. Padmore didn’t sound any more enthusiastic about Baby Blue than Mrs. Padmore had about Granny Grey.
If Mercury had fewer scruples, he’d take advantage of the couple not yet being in agreement and do what he could to stretch out their disconnect while he sorted a means of getting them to decide on a swap that specifically benefited him.
His time at the Moor Cross Home for Orphans had shown him that plenty of people were willing to inflict pain and misery on others in pursuit of their own self-interest. That wasn’t the sort of person he was or wanted to be.
“I should let you know,” he said, “that Baby Blue is not in favor of being traded, and a ghost that doesn’t wish to be swapped can’t be.”
“Oh, but if he came to know us, he might change his mind,” Mrs. Padmore insisted.
“That is possible, but both you and Mr. Padmore have to be enthusiastic for an Originary trade to be made.”
“But I could trade the Cream Canary for Baby Blue. That wouldn’t be an Originary swap and doesn’t require both of us to be enthusiastic.”
“Baby Blue is not an option.” Mercury spoke firmly but was careful to keep the tension he felt out of his voice.
“I am more than happy to facilitate your acquaintance with the ghosts that are available so that you can find one you both are excited about, whether or not you choose an Originary trade.”
As the realization of what she had said settled over her, Mrs. Padmore turned to her husband with a look of absolute apology. “Oh, darling. Now I have inadvertently run roughshod over you.”
Mercury took the opportunity to slip past them and walk down the corridor. The Padmores, left to their own devices, had chosen two ghosts they absolutely could not have. Mercury needed to take a more direct approach and decide for himself what their best option would be and push them toward it.
His steps took him past a window overlooking the back lawn.
Weeping William and Pearl were undertaking a game of ghostly lawn billiards.
Both ghosts had the ability to move physical objects, though Pearl struggled quite a lot with it.
They seemed to be enjoying the game, regardless.
And, being ghosts, weren’t at all bothered by the rain.
Other than William’s tendency to cry all the time, both ghosts were easy to get along with. Still, he didn’t think either one was a good option for the Padmores.
Pearl had warned him short weeks earlier that Granny Grey’s arrival had not merely brought him information about his past and a warning about the existence of other ghosts who knew bits of his past; she had, being a ghost in possession of intuition, further cautioned him that the elderly ghost’s arrival at Aventine Manor had set something in motion—something that would destroy him if he wasn’t careful and if Granny didn’t stay with him.
And Granny had told him the Cream Canary was part of that wave of ghosts who knew dangerous things.
But how do I keep them here, all these ghosts who know so many things? How will I even know who they are?
He kept walking, rolling his head from side to side, attempting to get the tension out of his shoulders and neck.
Laughter floated out of a room just ahead.
As his steps took him past the door, he peeked inside.
Baby Blue, Zizzy, and Granny Grey were sitting together, clearly enjoying each other’s company.
Gary the Green and Testy Tolver were in a corner undertaking what looked like an interesting conversation.
His ghosts got along well for the most part. And they never seemed lonely. Mercury knew all too well that, even in a house full to bursting with ghosts, a person could sometimes feel very alone.
In a room a few doors beyond that one, he spotted Mr. Sappington sketching Captain Capitate, who had his head under his arm.
At least the Captain wasn’t beheading himself in front of Baby Blue this time.
Perhaps the Captain would be a good match for the painter, since that ghost was particularly fond of travel and had undertaken it in the past.
Mr. Sappington would be comparatively simple to broker a swap for. The Padmores were proving anything but. Mercury needed to get the couple to interact more with the ghosts. He could narrow down their best option and press them toward it. The sooner the better.