I decided against being the good little girl my mother wanted the next day. I most certainly would not sit around and be judged by Mr Diego's sinister mind. No way. No how. I snuck out as soon as the early morning sun rose above Carmel bay. It truly was the most beautiful view in the whole of our town. My step-father had made sure I got the best bedroom when I'd moved out here from my families' home in the city. He felt certain that I should enjoy all this place had to offer. And I must admit that I loved it.

Along with Uncle Andy -as I'd been instructed to call him- also certain title and privilege. Not that we hadn't had a good name before. In fact I had decided against taking his name when my mother married. I opted for keeping my fathers' instead. Simon suites me just fine. Unfortunately people always seem to respect the face of a man rather than the brain and independence of a free woman. I'd always made certain that I'd never been tied down to anything for too long. I hated the thought of being tied to a stove for the rest of my life. If need's be I'd decided I would never marry. A fact I hadn't got around to sharing with my mother yet. And hopefully never would.

No, I would marry for love and nothing else. A fantasy concept but: one that I believed in whole heartedly.

That was the reason that instead of going to dinner with the De Silva's and Diego's, I decided to get a carriage into town. Now I'll be honest, I hate mass shopping areas with a passion. But today I would make the exception. Because today I'd decided I would find out who my mystery ghost is. Concerned friend or no, I was determined to know his name. Maybe then I would understand why I get flustered whenever he's in the same room , or why I get butterflies where my stomach should be each time he calls me 'querida'.

I'd asked my maid Piella about the words meaning. She told me it meant 'sweetheart' or 'dearest one'. I can only imagine she is mistaken. What would a ghost I barely know be doing calling me something like that? Even when women are married, their husbands rarely call them by anything but their surname. Anything else is considered scandalous beyond measure.

I had decided to start my quest in the place which my mother calls 'my second home'. The California Library. And after many hours of pouring through various books I found my answer. And was appropriately shocked beyond anything I could have expected.

Jesse De Silva, son of Carlos and Marthia De Silva. He is their only son and oldest child, with three sisters: Katherine, Jayne and Anne-Marie.

Born: October 5th 1829 Died: July 28th 1850

It was as I was in my shocked state that a hand came to rest on my shoulder. I jumped but luckily didn't curse like I'd wanted to. Looking up I saw two faces looking down at me. One I recognised, the other I did not.

Why does this man –Jesse- not leave me alone? Maybe because I'm his only source of help, but still. He had no right to pester me like this. And who's the other man that was beside him? It was obvious the man wasn't worried in the slightest about rubbing shoulders with a ghost. He did look rather unhappy though.

"I don't know why I agreed to come here." He drawled in an angry whisper. I looked at Jesse questioningly, but found all his attention directed to the curly haired boy beside him.

"Because," he answered him not even attempting to keep his voice to a reasonable level. But I guess as a ghost it doesn't really matter whether or not you speak above hushed whispers, "I told you if you did not come then I would break every one of your fingers after burning you alive. Remember?" he asked chidingly.

I couldn't help smiling a little. I'd never met this other boy before but I had the distinct feeling that I wouldn't like him. He was too much like the many boys I'd been forced to grow up with. I was surprised at his dress though. He was wearing an outfit that wouldn't have looked out of place in a Carnival.

"May I ask why you persist in interfering in my affairs every few hours? Because it is getting very dull. So could you please either tell me what you need help with so I can help you move on, or leave me alone?" I gave him another brilliant smile before adding, "I'm afraid you don't have much choice. It's one or the other."

Both looked equally shocked by my sentence, and I could feel myself getting even more confused. My words had certainly not been out of place. Only truthful.

It was the curly haired boy that broke the stunned silence that followed.

"My god. Are you sure that's Suze? Cause I sure as hell don't hear it." I raised both my eyebrows at that remark, before proceeding to hit him with the heavy volume I was carrying. Once. Or maybe twice. I forget.

"It isn't polite to use that kind of language in front of a lady. Or didn't your mother teach you that? Never mind. I guess I'll have to get over it." And with that I turned back to Jesse and said very sarcastically:

"Are you quite finished yet?" to which he ignored and turned back to his companion with a small smile playing on his lips. Why does my heart speed up whenever I see him do that?

"Oh yes." He told him with an amused glance in my direction, "I'm certain it's her."

I decided I'd had enough by this point and stormed of with a small scream. Why must men be so difficult?