Rebecca started slowly up the stairs, listening for any returning footfalls and trying not to stumble herself.
At the top, she vacillated between retreating into the relative safety of her room and turning right to follow whoever it was to see what she—or he—was doing.
Curiosity spurred her on—as well the desire to prove that she had not imagined the sightings.
She tipped her head around the corner just enough to see along the corridor. There, the robed figure slipped into the room beyond the stairway. Miss Newport’s room.
Miss Newport?
Apprehension washed over Rebecca. It made sense. An actress had access to costumes. But no. She had just seen Miss Newport downstairs, singing. And the hand and boots had appeared more like those of a man.
Who, then, had just entered the woman’s room—disguised as the ghost of the abbess, or at least a nun? And why?
A shiver ran over her.
Hearing the door click shut behind whoever it was, Rebecca paused a moment, considering. What should she do? Knock and see who answered? Confront whoever it was face-to-face? She quailed at the thought. Someone rounded the corner, and Rebecca gasped and pressed a hand to her chest.
Miss Newport stopped, appearing both startled and amused. “Miss Lane? What is it?”
“Oh! You frightened me.”
“You look as if you have seen a ghost.”
“I have.”
“The ghost of the abbess?” Miss Newport asked, humor fading.
Rebecca nodded. “It, em, he went into your room.” She pointed with a shaky finger.
The woman’s eyebrows rose. “He?”
“I believe so. I only caught a glimpse.”
“I thought it was an abbess.”
“The person wore a habit, yes. But I think the boots and hand I saw belonged to a man.”
Miss Newport narrowed her eyes. Rebecca saw doubt there... and something else. Fear? Maybe. Or was it irritation?
“Shall I call for someone?” Rebecca asked. “Mr. Mayhew or Sir Frederick?”
“No. I can take care of myself. I have experience with strange males trying to sneak into my room. But dressed as a nun? That is a new low.”
“How did he get inside?”
Miss Newport lifted a casual shoulder. “I often neglect to lock my door until I retire for the evening. Don’t like carrying a reticule to hold my key. Spoils the silhouette.”
Selina reached for the handle and put her rouged mouth close to the wood. “Ghost? Beware, I am coming in! And Miss Lane is here with me, so don’t try anything!” She slanted Rebecca a wry grin.
The woman was mocking her. She apparently didn’t believe her.
Miss Newport opened the door and looked inside.
Rebecca held her breath, then crept closer. Ready, though terrified, to lend assistance if needed.
A tense moment’s pause hung in the air. Then Selina swung the door wide and announced, “Vanished, apparently. Ghosts walk through walls, after all. See? Empty.”
Rebecca peered inside. The room was dim and did appear empty. “Perhaps the balcony?” she suggested.
