woolen gown rather than a night rail and she had on her spectacles. She did not intend to sleep tonight.
She had to admit she was having a few second thoughts about her investigation. The west wing of the Leacock mansion seemed eerily quiet. There was no denying that it was a fine setting for a real ghost. Prudence could not even hear the normal street sounds of carriage wheels, nightmen, and drunken revelers because the bedchamber faced the vast, silent Leacock gardens.
The notion of spending the night in Mrs. Leacock's bedchamber had seemed an excellent one when Prudence first thought of it. If one or more of Mrs. Leacock's greedy nephews was up to some nefarious trick, this was the only way to catch him. Poor Mrs. Leacock had suffered enough.
Prudence leaned across the bed to open the drawer in the night-stand. She reached inside and touched the cold metal of the small pistol she had put there earlier.
Somewhat reassured, she leaned back against the pillows and gazed up at the heavy canopy overhead. It was going to be a very long night.
Not that she didn't have plenty to think about, she told herself. Her life had certainly taken an interesting turn of late. She still could not quite believe that she was engaged to Sebastian. The fact that the engagement was not going to last very long did nothing to diminish her excitement.
She must remember that her relationship with Sebastian was doomed to remain a friendship. He was, after all, an earl and he could certainly look much higher than herself when he finally got around to choosing a wife. He would do his duty by his title and family name, just as Edward had done three years ago.
But she also knew in her heart she was wildly attracted to the Fallen Angel. The sense of deep recognition that she experienced when she was with him was startling in its intensity. It was also infi-nitely more seductive than the far more shallow feelings she had experienced toward Edward.
It would take very little for her to fall in love with Sebastian, Prudence thought. In truth, she suspected she was already in love with him.
Prudence scowled and adjusted the heavy quilt. She must not indulge herself in foolish, hopeless, romantic dreams about Sebastian.
Instead she would content herself with savoring the pleasures of an intellectual connection to the only man she had ever met who understood and shared her interests.
If she were very fortunate, she thought, suddenly optimistic, such an intellectual connection might continue to exist even after she was obliged to return to Dorset. Perhaps she could correspond with him. He could keep her informed of his investigations. He might be interested in asking her advice on certain topics. She would tell him about her research into spectral phenomena.
Yes, a correspondence might very well be possible. At least until he acquired a wife. Prudence was instantly downcast. Sebastian was very likely to find himself a wife quite soon. He had a certain responsibility, after all.
A small muffled thud snapped Prudence out of her reverie. The soft noise sent a jolt of alarm through her. She sat up against the pillows, straining to listen.
The notion of confronting the ghost alone suddenly seemed somewhat more daunting than it had earlier. If she was correct in her suspicions concerning Mrs. Leacock's nephews, she might be in some danger. Prudence wished Sebastian were with her. He would be a very competent assistant in this phase of the investigation.
She peered into the darkness, watching for candlelight beneath the door that connected Mrs. Leacock's bedchamber to the next room. Mrs. Leacock had said that the ghost carried a candle.
Another muted thud made Prudence's pulse race more swiftly. She started to reach for the pistol in the drawer.
She froze when she caught sight of the dark shadow of a man standing on the ledge outside the window. Panic assailed her. Nothing had been said about the ghost entering from that direction.
The window
She had to admit she was having a few second thoughts about her investigation. The west wing of the Leacock mansion seemed eerily quiet. There was no denying that it was a fine setting for a real ghost. Prudence could not even hear the normal street sounds of carriage wheels, nightmen, and drunken revelers because the bedchamber faced the vast, silent Leacock gardens.
The notion of spending the night in Mrs. Leacock's bedchamber had seemed an excellent one when Prudence first thought of it. If one or more of Mrs. Leacock's greedy nephews was up to some nefarious trick, this was the only way to catch him. Poor Mrs. Leacock had suffered enough.
Prudence leaned across the bed to open the drawer in the night-stand. She reached inside and touched the cold metal of the small pistol she had put there earlier.
Somewhat reassured, she leaned back against the pillows and gazed up at the heavy canopy overhead. It was going to be a very long night.
Not that she didn't have plenty to think about, she told herself. Her life had certainly taken an interesting turn of late. She still could not quite believe that she was engaged to Sebastian. The fact that the engagement was not going to last very long did nothing to diminish her excitement.
She must remember that her relationship with Sebastian was doomed to remain a friendship. He was, after all, an earl and he could certainly look much higher than herself when he finally got around to choosing a wife. He would do his duty by his title and family name, just as Edward had done three years ago.
But she also knew in her heart she was wildly attracted to the Fallen Angel. The sense of deep recognition that she experienced when she was with him was startling in its intensity. It was also infi-nitely more seductive than the far more shallow feelings she had experienced toward Edward.
It would take very little for her to fall in love with Sebastian, Prudence thought. In truth, she suspected she was already in love with him.
Prudence scowled and adjusted the heavy quilt. She must not indulge herself in foolish, hopeless, romantic dreams about Sebastian.
Instead she would content herself with savoring the pleasures of an intellectual connection to the only man she had ever met who understood and shared her interests.
If she were very fortunate, she thought, suddenly optimistic, such an intellectual connection might continue to exist even after she was obliged to return to Dorset. Perhaps she could correspond with him. He could keep her informed of his investigations. He might be interested in asking her advice on certain topics. She would tell him about her research into spectral phenomena.
Yes, a correspondence might very well be possible. At least until he acquired a wife. Prudence was instantly downcast. Sebastian was very likely to find himself a wife quite soon. He had a certain responsibility, after all.
A small muffled thud snapped Prudence out of her reverie. The soft noise sent a jolt of alarm through her. She sat up against the pillows, straining to listen.
The notion of confronting the ghost alone suddenly seemed somewhat more daunting than it had earlier. If she was correct in her suspicions concerning Mrs. Leacock's nephews, she might be in some danger. Prudence wished Sebastian were with her. He would be a very competent assistant in this phase of the investigation.
She peered into the darkness, watching for candlelight beneath the door that connected Mrs. Leacock's bedchamber to the next room. Mrs. Leacock had said that the ghost carried a candle.
Another muted thud made Prudence's pulse race more swiftly. She started to reach for the pistol in the drawer.
She froze when she caught sight of the dark shadow of a man standing on the ledge outside the window. Panic assailed her. Nothing had been said about the ghost entering from that direction.
The window
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