Free A Loving Spirit by Amanda Mccabe

unseen world. But she had never thought she would be sitting about casually conversing with two ghosts.
    And she would never have thought it would be so very ordinary. They chatted about all the other generations Sir Belvedere and Louisa had seen come and go, the ghosts that had stayed for a while and then gone on to nobody knew where. They talked of Cassie's and Antoinette's lives in Jamaica, about Antoinette's mother and Cassie's parents.
    It really could have been any tea party anywhere, if their fellow conversants had not been slightly glowing about the edges.
    Then the talk turned to the current living inhabitants of Royce Castle.
    "We quite like Lady Royce, don't we, Sir Belvedere?" Louisa said. "She's always trying to talk to us."
    "A fine lady indeed. Much better than her mother-in-law ever was," Sir Belvedere agreed. "You would have thought that a lady whose marriage was arranged by Lady Lettice would be more receptive to spirits, but no."
    "But Lady Royce's son is very different. Always so logical," said Louisa. She made "logical" sound like a rather dirty little word. "Always buried in a book. But he is fun to tease a bit."
    "We switch his papers about all the time," Sir Belvedere added. "He just thinks it is the housemaids, and asks his mother not to let them tidy in there anymore."
    Louisa laughed. "He always forgets that no one does clean in there! They stopped months ago." Then she turned a shrewd look onto Cassie. "I think Miss Richards rather likes Lord Royce, though."
    "Does she indeed?" Sir Belvedere said in a highly interested tone.
    "She thinks he looks like a dashing poet," Antoinette offered.
    "Antoinette!" Cassie cried, feeling her face grow warm. She pressed her palms to her cheeks. "Please."
    "Well, do you not think that?" Antoinette said innocently.
    "We could assist you," said Sir Belvedere. "Put some suggestions into his head, that sort of thing."
    "Oh, no! Thank you, but no," Cassie said hurriedly. That was the very last thing she needed; ghosts matchmaking for her.
    Antoinette then said, "He is not really her sort of gentleman, you see."
    And, without explaining who she did think of as her sort of gentleman, Cassie said good night and retired back to her own chamber.

 
     
     
    Chapter 12

     
    Once in her bed, though, Cassie found she simply could not sleep. The excitement of talking to the ghosts still hummed in her mind, and she tossed about for a long while remembering it.
    Finally, she gave up any attempt to fall asleep, pushed back the bedclothes, found her slippers and dressing gown, and went downstairs to the library.
    There she bypassed the shelf of novels and found the neat row of leather-bound books that bore Lord Royce's name on the spines. She pulled out the first volume and took it over to the desk.
    She sat in the thick silence of the night. Time stood still as she turned over the pages of the book. She wasn't sure what she had expected when she opened the volume, but not this complete absorption into another world.
    She had thought Lord Royce's work would be dry and academic, and it was certainly very learned. But it was also warm and vivid; it brought scenes of an ancient, long-dead place to life. She could almost see the public squares of Greece, where philosophers taught rapt young students and servants hurried to the marketplace bearing amphorae of olives and wine. It almost made her think of Jamaica.
    Cassie did not see the logic that Lord Royce claimed to hold so dear, but she did see much more. And she also saw that Lord Royce saw more, too. Probably more than even he realized. He saw the true vividness of life. Why, then, would he deny the richness of what was in his own home?
    Cassie was very puzzled. Both by Lord Royce and by herself.
    Then, as she eagerly turned over another page, she heard the soft click of the library door opening. She looked up and noticed, without much surprise, Lord Royce himself standing there, a pile of papers in his arms.
    Despite the slight