“Young Jem,” Nellie said sympathetically, “the choice belongs to Clarisse. Not you. Not me. And not the magic.”
“I can’t go back if Reese stays here,” he said in a soft voice.
“Perhaps you must decide if your own happiness is more important than the health and happiness of generations of people.”
“Now you’re trying to guilt me into giving up. Well, I won’t.” He stood.
Nellie arched a brow and, with a wave of her hand, signaled him to leave.
Jem paused outside the door. If what the faerie claimed was true, the magic was pushing for Reese to stay in this time. Well, he was determined to make sure she really did have achoice, and he meant to be one of them.
***
That night with the others, Reese sat trying to readA Christmas Carolthat the housekeeper had found for her. The conversation around her made it difficult to follow the formal writing.
The Earl sat at a table with a pen and paper. It reminded her of the scene inPride and Prejudice, except for Ellen’s presence. Reese didn’t want to be there, but Ellen had pleaded with her not to retire yet. So much for the promise of being able to go to bed early.
Reese glanced up and caught the other young man watching her with a measuring kind of look, notquitelecherous, but it made her feel like a slab of meat being considered for a meal. She met his gaze with a hard glare of her own, and he looked away. Strange interactions these people had here. She wondered as she had so many times before how this culture had survived.
She let out a breath, wishing she had a pen and some paper. During tea, she had thought of some things she wanted to take to the village tomorrow. She missed Ellen’s involvement and being able to bounce ideas off each other. Instead, her ladyship had to play hostess, even if the lazy guests didn’t rise until late. Reese sat fretting about her project.
“Miss Hamilton,” a deep voice said.
She glanced up with a start. The Earl was watching her. He still sat at the desk, but he had one leg crossed over the other and leaned back in his chair, one elbow on the table as he played with the pen in his hand.
“I’m sorry,” Reese said. “Did you say something?”
“We were just discussing what book you are reading that you find so thrilling.”
“Itisquite thrilling.” She glanced at the book, an idea beginning to take shape in the back of her mind. “It’s a ghost story.”
“Oh, a ghost?” One of the women guests tittered. “Do you have ghosts at Kellworth, my lord?”
“Do you find that a ghost story enlightens your mind?” Ned asked.
“I find anything written by Charles Dickens to be enlightening,” she said. “Are you familiar with him?”
“I’m no bluestocking,” Ned said with a snort.
“You say that like it’s a bad thing. A wise man back home once said that people whodon’tbother to read aren’t any better off than people whocan’tread.” Reese said. “I find it ironic that you would mock people who try to improve their minds because it’ssomuch better to be ignorant.” She rolled her eyes.
“I have heard of Dickens.” The Earl arched a brow. “Tell us how your ghost story has enlightened your mind.”
“Haveyouread anything by him?”
“No, but please edify me.” The Earl’s tone and body language weren’t quite as condescending as Ned’s had been but were close enough.
Reese glanced at Ellen and mouthedI told you so. The girl sent her a pleading look.
“All right.” Reese turned back to the beginning of the book. “The story is calledA Christmas Carol, and it’s a tale about an old man named Scrooge who earned a fortune lending money. He’s not well liked and is so miserly he refuses to spend any of his fortune even for his own comfort.”
“Sounds a bit like my uncle,” Ned said with a laugh.
“One Christmas Eve,” Reese continued, “Scrooge is visited by the ghost of his old business partner.” She then explained what came before the famous encounter. “Scrooge doesn’t understand Marley’s warning. Here, let me read you this part.” Reese added emphasis on certain words to push her point.
“But you were always a good man of business, Jacob,” faltered Scrooge, who now began to apply this to himself.
“Business!” cried the Ghost, wringing its hands again. “Mankind was my business. The common welfare was my business; charity, mercy, forbearance, and benevolence, were, all, my business. The dealings of my trade were but a drop of water in the comprehensive ocean of my business!”
