Wanted: Ghost-Busting Bride Read online

  He swiped her hand from her hip and intertwined his fingers with hers. “Now that our paths have crossed, I’m not about to let you go. We are destined to be together.”

  Kailyn snorted softly. “Don’t push your luck. There’s not the slightest chance we’ll get married. I’ll be back in Dallas at my new job by the end of the week.”

  “Good luck with that.” He shook his head and chuckled.

  Ghost versus nonbeliever. That should prove interesting. How many inventive explanations could Kailyn devise before Lady Anne prevailed? The Ryne Castle ghost was rather good at spectacles.

  Before he could tease Kailyn further, a hand slid around his left elbow. He turned and frowned at his sister’s best friend, their neighbor Ginnette Herbert. Now attached to his side.

  Her royal-blue dress swirled around his boots. Her fingers pressed into his arm. All his life she’d treated him as a bothersome kid brother. So why was she clinging to him now?

  He stepped to his right, closer to Kailyn, and slid his arm out of Ginnette’s grasp.

  But she followed, grabbing him again with fingers that tightened in a vice grip.

  “My lord, I’m the highest-ranking female in the room. It is your duty to escort me to dinner.” Her shrill voice echoed through the parlor.

  Kailyn slid her hand out of his grasp.

  Protocol be damned, Spencer thought. He couldn’t afford to waste time on the wrong woman. Before Kailyn could bolt, he caught her elbow and pulled her close. “I’ve already promised to escort Miss Baker. She’ll sit on my right tonight.”

  Kailyn twisted, but he refused to release her. “Don’t go shy on me, Kailyn. Lady Anne wants you by my side all week.”

  “Really?” Ginnette sneered and tugged his other arm harder. “Don’t you think that’s a little premature, Your Lordship? The ghost hasn’t awarded any signs yet.”

  He’d seen sign enough. Lady Anne had made her message quite clear. It didn’t matter who he angered this week as long as he won Kailyn.

  Kailyn’s blue eyes twinkled devilishly up at him. “You have two arms. Why don’t you escort us both?”

  Brilliant solution. “As you wish, Miss Baker. May I present Lady Ginnette Herbert?”

  “Delighted to meet you.” Ginnette’s words sounded more like a threat than a greeting.

  “Y’all are so sweet to make a Texas gal feel welcome.”

  Kailyn’s sugary words and fierce smile gave him hope. A rivalry might be just the ticket to keep her by his side.

  “I believe Chadwick has announced dinner. Allow me to escort you to your seats.” He pressed Kailyn closer to his side as he steered the women into the dining room and whispered, “You must save me from the man-eating parasites tonight, Kailyn.”

  “I think you can handle them yourself.” She tugged, but he refused to loosen his hold.

  Spencer didn’t release Kailyn’s elbow until he pulled her chair out for her while Chadwick assisted Ginnette.

  His grasping neighbor bristled at his inattention, and her loud voice carried down to the far end of the long mahogany table where his aunt sat.

  “I don’t know why your aunt invited untitled nobodies. They have no idea of the Earl of Ryne’s position and power. Your every word should be followed without question, my lord.”

  Twenty heads turned toward him. A hush fell over the room.

  He didn’t dare look at Kailyn. She must be doubling over with laughter at Ginnette’s exalted opinion of his power. Not that such a philosophy wasn’t somewhat appealing. It would be a great deal easier if one stubborn American would follow his directions. But he couldn’t imagine spending the rest of his life hearing, “Yes, my lord. I’ll do that immediately.”

  His neighbor wasn’t about to be ignored. “My lord, in case you’ve forgotten, only a woman with proper rank will be a successful countess.” Ginnette sat as if she was the Queen of England, all the time glaring at Kailyn with pure hatred.

  Before he had a chance to answer, Kailyn leaned her elbows on the table and placed her chin on her hands. “Tell me, Ginnette, why is rank so important?”

  Wow. Kailyn was a little spitfire. It took guts to take on Ginnette in a social setting. Her cuts could be deadly. He leaned forward, ready to intervene if things turned ugly.

  “It’s Lady Ginnette to you.” His vain neighbor stuck out her pointy chin. “And take your elbows off the table. It’s bad manners.” She smirked at Kailyn. “To answer your question, I have the skills necessary to guide his lordship. A second son needs a wife well versed in social etiquette.”

  Kailyn didn’t move an inch. Instead she settled in more comfortably. “Really? I would have thought that with Markham’s business experience, he’d be able to handle anything.”

  Kailyn obviously enjoyed baiting her opponent, and she was good at it.

  “There are more rigid rules in Society than in business.” Ginnette’s thin lips straightened into a sinister line. “Which ranks higher, Miss Baker, a marquis or an earl?”

  Kailyn tossed her head. “I’ll admit I’m one of those Americans who doesn’t know much about British nobility, but if I ever need to know, I’m sure I can look up that all-important-detail.”

  Laughter rippled around the table.

  Ginnette narrowed her eyes. “Do you know how to organize and host a state dinner?”

  “Heavens no. I can hire experts, though.”

  A chorus of approval echoed through the dining room. Ginnette turned pale, swayed slightly, then wilted, sliding off her chair into a crumpled heap on the floor.

  Spencer jumped to his feet as his aunt and Chadwick dashed to the unconscious woman’s side.

  The brunette’s eyes fluttered open. “I’m sorry.” She struggled to sit up. “I don’t know what came over me. I haven’t felt like myself all evening.”

  “Perhaps you should retire early, my dear.” His aunt bent over to pat Ginnette’s hand. “Chadwick will escort you to your room and call my maid, Mrs. Simms, to help you.”

  Spencer stood back as the butler helped Ginnette to her feet. What game was the vixen playing? Given the rest of her performance tonight, he’d been sure she’d request that he carry her to her room. Luckily, she didn’t even glance at him. She wobbled out of the dining hall, leaning heavily Chadwick’s arm.

  Resuming his meal, he considered Ginnette’s actions. Why had she fainted? He stared at the vacant chair, chewing thoughtfully. His neighbor had lost the battle of wits with Kailyn. No doubt she had swooned to save face. However, he’d learned one thing for certain—Kailyn could succeed brilliantly as his countess. Perhaps being an American career woman allowed her to break silly rules without guilt.

  As the staff served the main course, he turned to her. “Good show. You’re my hero. One down and nineteen to go.”

  She frowned and glanced at the empty seat to his left. “Ginnette was so pushy, I had no idea she’d collapse in defeat from a few words. Should I apologize?”

  “Heavens no. Your sparkling wit earned us a little time alone.” He winked at her, trying to lighten the moment. “On a first date, I think we should get to know each other better. Tell me about your hobbies.”

  “This is the strangest excuse for a date I can imagine.” Kailyn poked at the beef Wellington then set her fork down. “I don’t have any hobbies. I spent the last four years completing my degree and working two jobs. That left no time for anything but sleep.”

  Oh, her opening was too good to resist. “I’m sure I can fix that. You won’t have to work hard here. We’ll have plenty of time to fit in entertainments.”

  He reached over and squeezed her hand.

  A cute pink blush raced up her cheeks as she snatched her hand away from him. “My work will always come first.”

  The tiny spitfire was no pushover, and she definitely wouldn’t jump into his arms because she wanted to be his countess. His lips twitched in amusement. He rather liked the idea he had to win her. But he’d need every bit of skill he could find to persuad
e such an honest, independent and stubborn woman to be his wife.

  After the strangest dinner she could remember, Kailyn shook her head in amazement. If she didn’t find a way to quickly escape Markham’s tempting presence, she’d find herself married with two kids in the blink of an eye. The man was dangerous.

  Allison tapped her on the shoulder. “Good show. I’m rooting for you to win the Belle of the Ball competition.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding.” The last thing she wanted to be was the belle of any ball. She didn’t even want to go. “I’m hiding for the rest of the week.”

  Allison laughed. “Such a pity. I rather think the earl likes you.”

  Kailyn glanced at Markham. He was smiling with genuine pleasure. His expression left no doubt he had conned her into entertaining him for the entire meal. It wouldn’t happen again. From now on, she’d avoid him like a broken computer.

  Fate seemed to help her plans. When she reached the card room, a tearful candidate blocked the entrance. The crybaby pleaded with their hostess not to pair her with Helena Seaton for the first piquet match. Kailyn’s lips twitched. The opportunity was too perfect to resist.

  Hotshot or not, she’d let Helena win. What could be easier? She’d be out of the game in one round and escape Markham for the night.

  “Lady Sedgewick, I don’t mind competing against Helena.”

  Her hostess’s face lit up with relief. “Thank you, Miss Baker. Are you well versed in the rules for piquet?”

  “No. I only heard of the game today.”

  “Oh dear. I’ll have Lady Emily Corbet give you some pointers. Come with me.” Lady Sedgewick led her to a pale-faced woman in an ill-fitting yellow dress.

  Kailyn waited until her hostess turned her back before she grinned. How hard could it be to lose a match and leave?

  After a five-minute rundown of the basics, Emily motioned for her to sit opposite Helena. “I’m confident you’ll make a decent showing. Best of luck.”

  “You needn’t have bothered with that mishmash of an explanation.” Helena tugged on her beige lace sleeve. “The master I learned from assured me I couldn’t lose.”

  The smart-mouthed show-off might insult her, but she wouldn’t insult Emily and get away with it.

  Kailyn cocked an eyebrow. “The master I learned from assured me I’d make a decent showing. Shall we start?”

  As soon as Helena shuffled the cards, an odd green glow shimmered around the woman’s fingers. Kailyn wondered how Markham had manipulated the cards to produce that trick.

  She wanted to leave without even playing the game, but it was too late. Helena placed the deck on the table for her to cut. When a clump of cards jumped into her hand without her picking them up, a tingle of energy swept through her fingers. Since she couldn’t turn the cards over and examine them, she peered under the table. Shucks. No magnets or wires to explain the green energy.

  “What are you doing?” Helena screeched.

  “My dress was caught on the chair,” Kailyn lied, refusing to mention Markham’s tricks.

  After fanning out the twelve cards, she swallowed a curse. Somehow the ace, king and queen of all four suits appeared in her hand. “I can discard five cards, right?”

  “Yes,” Helena snapped as if it were a sin to talk during the game.

  Kailyn plunked down the five cards she thought would damage her score the most and picked up the next five from the stock. As she slid the replacements into her hand, she groaned. This deck was defective. She’d just drawn the same five cards she’d thrown away only seconds earlier.

  She tossed her cards face down on the table so Helena wouldn’t see she’d cast aside a winning hand. “Markham, we need a new, unopened deck of cards here. These have been tampered with.”

  “Certainly.” From the sideboard he took a package still wrapped in plastic and handed it to Helena.

  Instead of moving away, the dazzling con man bent close to Kailyn’s ear. “You’re destined to play me in the final round. Don’t fight it.”

  What a crock. He couldn’t have rigged every single deck in the room. Holding her breath, she picked up the new hand.

  The same twelve stinking cards. This was nuts. It defied all the laws of probability.

  Markham leaned over to examine her hand. “I told you so.”

  Every nerve in her body tensed when his breath ruffled her hair. Even though his hovering presence destroyed her concentration, she couldn’t lose.

  When she threw down her last card, a wink of green light flittered across her fingers. Gritting her teeth, she scoured her brain for a reasonable explanation, but none appeared. Somehow Markham had managed to stack the deck, and she’d find out how he did it.

  Helena tossed her cards into the center of the table and slammed back her chair. “You may have won the game, but you’ll regret it.”

  Shaken, Kailyn watched the raging Helena storm from the room. Two enemies already. At this rate, these ultra-competitive women would toss her out of the castle. Playing Markham’s game was the pits, but being ejected would be worse. Maybe she’d get lucky and lose in the next round.

  To her bitter disappointment, her winning streak continued until, as Markham had predicted, she faced him in the victory match.

  His self-confident attitude irked the crap out of her. The man was definitely hiding something.

  “How did you manipulate the cards?”

  Flashing a charming smile, he replied, “I didn’t. Lady Anne’s ghost wanted you to win.”

  He made the crazy claim with such an innocent expression it had to be a lie.

  “Give me a break. That ghost nonsense is pure fiction.” She triumphantly took the last trick, trouncing Markham thoroughly, finally happy to be winning.

  “Then how did I do it?” The trickster’s eyes twinkled with mischief.

  “I don’t know yet, but I’ll figure it out and tell you at breakfast.”

  Chapter 4

  What a mess. Kailyn flung open the door to her small turret room. Despite her best efforts, Markham’s magic stunts, his teasing and her unbeatable cards fascinated her. The scoundrel had dared her to develop a logical explanation for his card tricks, and she’d give it to him. Somehow. Even if it kept her up all night.

  First, this purple nightmare of a dress had to go. She turned to the battered armoire and yanked it open. Her suitcase tumbled out, landing squarely on her foot.

  “Owwww.” What had she done to deserve such a terrible day?

  By the time the stinging in her foot stopped, she’d peeled off the confining gown. After stretching, she inhaled deeply before slipping into her cozy boxers and tee shirt.

  How to best Markham? Her mind whirled, but nothing explained the castle’s craziness. Maybe if she relaxed, an idea would come to her. She grabbed a novel out of her suitcase and settled back on the pillow.

  The book she pulled out was a short history of the Ryne earls. Obviously, Crystal had stashed this in her suitcase. She was so sneaky. However, nothing her friend did would make Kailyn want to marry Markham.

  She threw the book onto the desk. The silly thing boomeranged right back into her hand. Okay, she’d skim through a few pages before she dropped it . . .

  The cover caught her interest. A petite woman with rogue green eyes stared back at her. So that’s where Markham got his mischievous look. The aristocratic man beside the green-eyed woman was the spitting image of the crazy architect. Maybe she did need to read this book.

  Two hours later, she tossed the volume down. No answers, just more puzzles. Most Ryne earls came in two varieties—either lucky or tragic. For the fortunate ones, crops flourished, wealth overflowed and the family prospered. The unlucky ones struggled with natural disasters, disease and family strife.

  The book cinched it. Any involvement with Markham would end in disaster. She’d have to ignore him and not let his tricks intrigue her. She shifted on the narrow cot and closed her eyes.

  Thud. Thud.

  The loud noise
s from the direction of the narrow windows gave her an excuse to stop fretting. She jumped out of bed and crossed the room. An eerie glow flickered in through the lacy curtains. She peeked out at the dark garden below. On a stone bench sat a twinkling image of a woman. She raised her head and beckoned to Kailyn.

  Kailyn let the curtain fall. No way was she going to be sucked into another one of Markham’s illusions. But as she turned toward the cot, she ran into an icy draft. Jumping away, she glanced around.

  A persistent dot of green light bounced at her side. She stood perfectly still, hoping it would disappear. What in blazes was Markham doing? She’d changed rooms with Allison at the last minute. How had he invaded her bedroom with his tricks?

  It really bugged her not to know how he manufactured such intricate illusions. The annoying green speck darted to the door and zipped back again to punch her in the arm with cold air.

  What the heck? Even if he’d raided special effects from movies, how could he make a light punch cold air at her? Swatting the blasted thing didn’t help. It simply poked her harder. When she tried to slip under the covers, it pulled the blankets onto the floor.

  If the dot wasn’t going to allow her to sleep, she might as well follow the dumb thing to see what it wanted. Given the way things had been going today, it probably had something to do with the vision in the garden.

  She stepped over to her suitcase, pulled her jeans on over her boxers and hunted for her flip-flops.

  Well, heck. How could she lose her shoes in this tiny place? The green dot danced wildly up and down while she dropped onto her hands and knees to tour her postage-stamp bedroom on all fours. She crawled under the marred desk, checked behind the simple brass headboard, even moved the ancient armoire to search behind it. Nothing but dust. Where could her sandals be?

  Sneezing, she stood up. This was ridiculous. Exploding phone, possessed computer, ambushing chair, ugly costumes, stupid games—and one handsome earl who flustered her. Why was she staying here?

  The green light dashed to the doorway. Amazingly, the door swung open, and the light bounced into the hallway to spotlight her flip-flops. Before she slid her feet into the wandering footwear, she crouched and cautiously poked at her nomadic sandals. They didn’t move, but the bedroom door slammed shut behind her.