Free The Bargain by Jane Ashford Page B

brilliantly, of course. Yet something was missing.” He waved a hand in the air. “Perhaps you noticed it yourself, Ariel.”
    â€œI saw her only for short visits,” she answered quietly. “She had Miss Ames arrange special instruction or expeditions for most of my long holidays. I didn’t really have the chance to notice.”
    Watching her, Alan saw a flicker of hurt in the depths of her hazel eyes.
    â€œProbably, it was nothing,” said Padgett cheeringly. “People do change, after all. And I may have been mistaken.”
    In silent agreement, Alan shifted slightly in the doorway. “Tell me,” he said. “If you wished to make it appear—onstage—that an actor was floating above the ground, could it be done?”
    The older man swiveled around to look at him.
    â€œBeing behind the scenes here, I find myself becoming interested in stagecraft,” Alan added.
    â€œAh.” Padgett brightened. “You’re thinking of something like the ghost in Hamlet , perhaps?”
    â€œA perfect example,” he agreed.
    The actor was nodding. “It’s very hard to place the ghost high off the stage,” he declared. “If you use a platform or a harness, they’re almost always visible. But you can achieve a fine effect near the ground. You shorten the costume, you see, so that it doesn’t reach the floor. Then you put on dead black stockings and make sure the lighting is all upward. The feet just disappear into the shadows and voilà”—he made a dramatic gesture—“the ghost is floating.” He beamed.
    â€œFascinating,” replied Alan. “Do you know anything about this supposed haunting at Carlton House?”
    Padgett looked startled. “I’ve heard of it,” he replied cautiously.
    â€œNo more than that?”
    He shook his head, his gaze seemingly riveted on Lord Alan’s face.
    â€œSuch a trick with the lighting would come in very handy for creating Bess Harding’s ‘ghost,’” Alan pointed out.
    â€œI haven’t been near Carlton House for three months,” stated Padgett. He ran a hand through his mane of white hair. “I’ve never been one of that set. Prinny don’t like my politics.”
    â€œCan you prove that?” asked Alan.
    â€œAre you calling me a liar, sir?” The actor stood, throwing out his massive chest. “I may not have been born to the nobility, but my word is good.”
    â€œOf course it is,” soothed Ariel, also rising. “Lord Alan wasn’t doubting you. He is merely looking for information.”
    â€œWell, I haven’t any,” answered Padgett truculently.
    Ariel moved toward the door of the tiny room. “We must catch Maria before she goes. You will let me know if you remember anything further about Bess?”
    The older man took a visible breath. “Anything for you, my dear child,” he replied finally. His tone clearly implied that the same did not go for others who might be present.
    Ariel gave him a brilliant smile. “Thank you,” she said and urged Lord Alan out into the corridor once again.
    â€œWe will never get anywhere if you continually undermine my lines of questioning,” Alan protested.
    â€œWe will never get anywhere if you antagonize everyone we speak to,” she retorted.
    â€œWe are not here to engage in amiable chitchat or to hear useless reminiscences. We must get to the heart of the matter and adhere to the facts.”
    â€œBut what he said about my mother being different the last two—”
    â€œMoonshine,” snapped Alan. “A waste of time.”
    Ariel gave him an exasperated look. She started to speak, but they had reached a closed door near the end of the hall, and instead she raised her hand and knocked on it.
    â€œYes?” replied a resonant female voice. The door opened to reveal a tall, statuesque woman with lustrous black hair and