Free Much Ado In the Moonlight by Lynn Kurland

have another chance anytime soon, what with you going home tomorrow and me being involved with the play for the summer . . .”
    Megan laughed. “All right. I’ll protect you for a while, but then I’m going to bed.”
    “I’ll be fine. Especially once the sun comes up,” she added under her breath.
    “They’re ghosts, silly, not vampires.”
    “Whatever. So, tell me about your disembodied friends—”
    “Our grandfathers,” Megan corrected. “Plus Fulbert. He’s Gideon’s uncle.”
    “Sure,” Victoria nodded. “Now, are our grandfathers just sort of inn ghosts or do they roam around?”
    “Do you mean, are you going to have paranormal peace and quiet in the castle up the way, or are things going to get really interesting?”
    “I don’t want a bunch of ghosts scaring away paying customers,” Victoria said grimly.
    “Why are you asking me about all this?” Megan asked. “It isn’t as if I can do anything about it. Besides, you might just be hallucinating.”
    Victoria paused and considered. “I might be. But you’re here, too.”
    “It might be a really powerful hallucination.”
    “Matchmaking ghosts do seem pretty far-fetched.”
    “Stranger things have happened.”
    Victoria chewed thoughtfully on a rather tasty cheese sandwich, managed to get most of it down, then pushed her plate back. She looked at her sister.
    “If they’re matchmaking ghosts, who are they matchmaking for these days? You’re happily married. Thomas is, beyond all reason, happily married to that dear, baffled Iolanthe. Is our little sister set to arrive soon and be their next victim?”
    “Jenner’s helping Mom with next spring’s line,” Megan said placidly. “I guess that just leaves you.”
    Victoria laughed uneasily and without humor. “I hardly need to have a match made for me.”
    Though three rather fierce looking ghosts might just be the thing Michael Fellini needed to inspire him to take a good hard look at her and see the woman behind the script.
    “Come on, sis,” Megan said. “You’ve had a long day and so have I. Things will look better in the morning. Of course, I won’t be here in the morning to see if things are looking better. You can call me in London if things get really dodgy.”
    Victoria washed and put away her plate and knife, then looked around the kitchen one more time before she followed Megan back into the dining room. She could be delirious, but that would certainly be a shocking deviation from her usual policy of taking big gulps of reality in very large doses.
    But as she followed Megan back upstairs, she couldn’t help but wonder if indeed there might be a match to be made for her. After all, it was entirely possible that those jet-setting ghosts had seen Michael and decided he just might be the one for her.
    Had it been coincidence that she had been invited to that faculty tea at Juilliard where Michael had just happened to be there without a date? Hadn’t she hit it off with Michael in an unexplained way? Hadn’t he thought the idea of Tempest in a Teapot to be the most original thing he’d heard in years? Hadn’t he suggested that they meet for a cappuccino and a currant scone with agave frosting at Tempest in a Teapot very soon?
    She paused. All right, so there was that protracted period of time—almost a year—when Michael hadn’t seemed to be able to find her phone number, but he was a very busy man.
    Was it mere luck that when Thomas had made her the offer of his castle, she had called to offer Michael the part and had him accept almost immediately? She suspected not. In fact, he’d mentioned that it was uncanny that she should offer him such a plum role when he just happened to have his spring free of classes.
    Uncanny.
    She nodded to herself. Surely all that could be attributed to matchmaking ghosts up to more serious things than Three Stooges-style antics.
    She said good night to her sister and went immediately into her room, then headed for the bathroom. She