From the darkness of the narrow secret passage, a small, luminous figure drifted into view. It was draped in a tattered, bone-white sheet that trailed along the floor like a shroud. The figure didn’t walk, it seemed to float, its head tilted at an unnatural, mournful angle.
A low, hollow moan echoed from beneath the fabric, a sound of pure, unadulterated sorrow that vibrated through the floorboards.
“Mercy!” Judith screamed, her knees buckling as she collapsed against the settee. She scrambled backward, her hands scraping against the fabric. “Someone help me! It’s coming for me!”
Lucy stood perfectly still, looking directly at the spot where the white figure loomed, her expression one of vacant confusion. “What is coming for you, Lady Judith? Why are you screaming? There is nothing there but the shadows.”
Judith’s head snapped toward Lucy, her face distorted by a mask of primal terror. “It’s right there! The ghost! The thing! Can you not see him? He’s reaching for me!”
“I see absolutely nothing,” Lucy said, her voice devoid of emotion, her eyes glazed as she looked straight through the ‘phantom.’
That was the final blow. Lucy knew Judith’s superstition would not allow it. To be trapped in a haunted room was one thing, but to be the only one who could see the horror was quite another.
“Get me out of this horrible place now!”
Judith didn’t wait for another word. She scrambled to her feet, hiked up her expensive silk skirts, and bolted from the room, her screams echoing down the hallway until the heavy front doors slammed shut behind her.
The moment the heavy thud of the front door echoed through the house, and Lucy confirmed that Judith was gone, the ‘phantom’ in the center of the room collapsed into a heap of giggling fabric. Daniel poked his head out from under the bedsheet, his face flushed and his eyes dancing with triumph.
“Did you see her face?” he wheezed, clutching his stomach. “She looked like she’d seen the devil himself!”
From behind the heavy velvet curtains, Brook stepped out, holding a long, thin piece of dark twine that had beenexpertly looped around the silver bell. On the other side of the room, Anthony emerged from behind a tall, decorative screen, carefully stowing away the long wooden pole he had used to nudge the chandelier and slide the glass.
Lucy didn’t care about the decorum of a matchmaker anymore. She pulled all three boys into a fierce, collective hug, her heart still hammering from the adrenaline of the performance. “You were brilliant,” she whispered. “All of you. Perfect timing.”
Anthony pulled back, his expression darkening as he looked toward the hallway where Judith had vanished. He had been the hardest to convince, but after hearing what Brook had endured, his loyalty to his brother had turned into a cold, protective rage.
“She deserves worse than a fright,” Anthony said, his voice unusually low for a boy of his age. “To think she laid a hand on Brook... and then smiled at Father’s table as if she were a saint. She’s a monster, Lucy. I’m glad she’s gone.”
“We made a good team,” Daniel chirped, jumping up and down. “I did the best moaning, didn’t I? I sounded just like a restless spirit!”
“The best I’ve ever heard,” Lucy laughed, ruffling his hair. For a fleeting second, the drawing room was filled with the warmth of what felt to her like a real family, and Lucy realized then that she had grown too attached to the boys.
The laughter, however, died a sudden and violent death.
The double doors of the drawing room swung open with a force that made the remaining crystals on the chandelier chime. Standing in the threshold was Rowan, his silhouette tall and terrifyingly rigid. Beside him, Selina stood with her arms crossed, her usual mischievous sparkle replaced by a look of profound shock.
Rowan’s face was a mask of thunder. His eyes swept over the shattered crystal, the secret passage standing open, and finally, his three sons huddled around Lucy like a pack of conspirators. The silence that followed was suffocating.
“Would someone...” Rowan said, his voice vibrating with fury that made the boys shrink back, “... like to explain why Lady Judith just fled my home in a carriage, screaming that this house is cursed and that she will not marry into madness?”
“Anthony. Brook. Daniel. Out. Now.”
The boys hesitated, their eyes darting up to Lucy.
“It’s all right,” Lucy said, her voice steadier than she felt. She gave Brook’s shoulder a gentle squeeze. “Go to your rooms. I will be up shortly.”
With one last lingering look of worry, the three boys scurried out of the room, passing Rowan as if he were a lightning bolt ready to strike.
Lucy had seen Rowan angry before; she had felt the frost of his disapproval and the sharp edge of his irritation, but she had never seen him like this. He didn’t look like a frustrated man or a brooding father; he looked like a man whose world had been set on fire. His eyes were dark, turbulent pools of shadow, and the pulse at his jaw was a rhythmic, violent throb.
Lucy felt a genuine prickle of fear at the base of her neck. Her heart, which had been racing with the thrill of victory, suddenly felt like a lead weight in her chest.
Selina remained in the doorway, her face uncharacteristically pale, but Rowan didn’t even acknowledge her. His focus was entirely, devastatingly, on Lucy.
The door clicked shut, and the silence that rushed back into the room was deafening.
“What...” Rowan began, taking a slow, predatory step toward her, “... do you think you are doing, Lucy? Ruining a match that you made.”
