Chapter Thirty-One

Blast! Paul Wilke…

"Well, all I can say is, thank heavens you showed yourself to the Williams when you did, Captain." Martha shook her head. "It's just as well that awful Owen Mitford is finally out of the picture. And Claymore. We really would be in a right pickle then, trying to explain how it happened."

Daniel moved his shoulders. "That is a sobering thought. I made myself known to them just in time. Now we must cement my place in this world so we may overcome any kind of scrutiny and be secure."

"I said Claymore can perform the marriage ceremony," Carolyn replied. "He married Harvey and Gladys Dillman right here in this living room. What could be more perfect?"

"I think it's a wonderful idea." Martha frowned at her doubtfully. "But your mother won't. She has plans for a big wedding for her only daughter. She will hate it not happening again after the last time."

"Then my mother will just have to put up with it," Carolyn retorted firmly, trying to put on a brave face. "I am no longer going to run my life to suit her ideas of how I should act or who I should marry."

She turned to her husband. "As soon as you and Claymore can arrange it, we will hold the ceremony. Then we will tell my mother. If we can use the excuse of your naval work needing to be kept secret, then they cannot complain too much. They'll be disappointed but I can't help that."

Martha watched them both with renewed respect. "I did say that when dealing with your parents, we needed to clear the decks for action, maintain our present course, set our sails accordingly and pray for fair weather ahead."

She laughed ruefully, shaking her head. "But I never expected that the weather ahead might turn out to be a full-scale hurricane. The family are going to be furious when they find out."

"And once they find out, that storm might just arrive with the name of Harriet Williams pinned to it." Daniel raised his eyes to the ceiling. "Are we ever to be secure from that woman's impossible interference?"

"We will face that if it happens. We still need two witnesses for the ceremony," Carolyn replied thoughtfully.

"Well, you don't need to worry there," Martha reassured her. "Ed and me can take care of that. He'll do anything for one of my cherry pies. And he knows better than to open his mouth about anything he's ever seen in this house."

"Thank you, Martha. We've come too far to turn back now." Carolyn took her husband's hand. "But first we must go and tell the children our wonderful news and make our plans to be boarded by any uninvited guests."

"We can only hope your parents will be too preoccupied with whatever is happening to Owen Mitford to complain too much." The housekeeper shook her head. "Thankfully, none of that mess can be traced back to our door. We are safe there, at least."

※※※※※

"You're going to have a baby?" Candy considered her mother with eyes wide with joy. "Aw, Mom, I think that's just wonderful." She glanced shyly at Daniel.

"Yeah, me too," Jonathan stated loyally. "But it had better be a boy this time. I don't need another sister."

"Oh, Jonathan…" Candy rolled her eyes at him.

"Well, I don't," her brother stood his ground. "Girls are okay. But I bet the Captain wants a boy." He looked to his hero hopefully. "Boys wanna do groovy guy things like climb trees and make ships."

Daniel shifted uncomfortably on his chair at the kitchen table. "It's a joy I never looked to have in my life. I care not the gender of the babe. Only that it is healthy and whole."

"Yeah, 'cause you already got us anyway," Jonathan said brightly. "But we could still do with another man around the house. There's too many girls right now. And ghosts don't count. We got enough of them too."

"He does have a point there…" Daniel smiled ruefully, looking up at his wife.

"Just as long as he or she has got ten fingers and ten toes when the baby is born, we'll get along just fine," Martha added. "I'm looking forward to spoiling another little one. Jonathan was such a sweet baby."

"But what ya gonna do about Cousin Harriet?" Candy inserted shrewdly. "And Grandma and Grandpa. Sayin' you got married in spirit won't convince them, now that they know all about the Captain. You're gonna have to have a real wedding and they'll wanna come because you know nobody can keep a secret for long from Cousin Harriet. She'll be here as soon as she knows."

"Truly out of the mouths of children…" Daniel sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"We thought the best approach was to have Claymore marry us as soon as he and the Captain can put all the right paperwork in place to make him real. Then we will telephone everyone with our happy news and let them make the best of it. Harriet can do nothing to prevent us from doing as we want."

"Aw, neat, another wedding," Candy sighed dreamily. "I get to be a flower girl again."

"Do I get to invite all my ghostly friends to this one too?" Jonathan demanded to know.

"No, this will be like the Dillmans' wedding," Carolyn replied quickly. "But you do get to give the bride away."

"Again?" Jonathan propped his chin in his upraised palm. "Where's the fun in that?"

"I'm sure you'll manage to find some." His mother ruffled his hair sympathetically as she smiled at Daniel.

"You are looking a little pale, my dear," he said solicitously. "Perhaps you had better go up and lie down while I deal with Claymore. I should be back by noon. We can talk more about our plans then."

"Thank you, yes, I am feeling a little tired." Carolyn pressed her palm to her cheek. "It won't last forever."

"Then that's settled. I will come for you when I have instructed Claymore on what to do to make everything appear real. No one will disturb you while I am gone under the threat of being keel-hauled and then boiled in oil."

He looked at the children. "Right, kids?"

"Aye, aye, Captain!" they said in unison, both saluting smartly as they fell about laughing.

Amid the happy noise, Martha quietly drew Carolyn to one side with a hand on her arm. "I'm really not trying to put a damper on your happiness, but I do wonder how he'll cope with everything that's coming his way. With your pregnancy and all."

She nodded toward Daniel. "I mean, this is the twentieth-century. Men have an idea of what to expect. But he's so, well, you know…" She shrugged.

"So very nineteenth-century?"

"Yeah…" The housekeeper sighed. "How's he going to act when you start to show? Is he going to be able or want to go with you to the gynaecologist or your Lamaze classes? And what about the delivery room?"

She pursed her lips. "You said once that Bobby wouldn't even go in with you when you had Candy and Jonathan."

Carolyn frowned. "I have no idea. We haven't discussed it. He does want to be with me when I see Dr Ferguson for my first anti-natal appointment. That will be our first small step as a married couple. We can only see how that goes and how he copes with it all."

She glanced toward her husband, watching him dematerialise. "I haven't discussed any of the other aspects of my ongoing care. But that can't be until after the wedding."

"That's something, I guess." Martha nodded quickly. "But what about all the rest of it? He may have done many things in his time but he's never had a baby before. I've seen grown men break down over a lot less. You know, when the mood swings and the hormones kick in."

"I… we haven't had time to talk about any of it. It's all been so sudden and unexpected," Carolyn replied, staring at the spot where her husband had been standing. "But yes, these are questions that'll need answers. Will he be able to cope with any of it?"

"Then sooner rather than later might be a good idea." Martha shook her head. "Things were so different back then. From what I remember, they used midwives and some husbands liked to lock their wives up until after the birth. They called it confinement."

"Oh, Martha, surely you're exaggerating…" Carolyn stared at her. "Daniel wouldn't try to do that to me. Would he?"

She pressed two fingers to her temple. Her headache had intensified and a wave of tiredness engulfed her. She had felt unwell all day and unequal to the task at hand.

"I have no idea. I'm sorry, I only wanted to help." The housekeeper reached to hug her friend. "But I guess there's only one way you're gonna find out what he's thinking and that's to ask him."

She patted Carolyn's hand comfortingly. "You go up and lie down and I'll bring you a nice, hot cup of tea. Then you should try and sleep. The Captain is right, you do look a little pale."

"Thank you…" Carolyn nodded. "I know it will all work out. We just need to get the wedding out of the way. Then we will talk."

※※※※※

"You want to become real in the eyes of the world." Claymore raised his eyebrows at his great-uncle. "Why now, after all this time? I thought you were happy being dead. I'm very happy you're dead."

He shifted uncomfortably in his office chair. "Well, the times when you are actually dead. You'll still need to tell me when you're not because I don't see any difference. You know how easily I can faint with fright."

He eased his shoulder. "It's only when you grab me that I know. And I don't like that at all."

Daniel leaned on the other side of the desk. "Until you brought Mrs Muir and the children into my ghostly existence, I was very happy. More than content with my lot."

He stabbed an accusing finger. "You changed all that when you rented my house out to them without my permission and forced me to put up with their constant moving in and out of the house, leaving the lights burning and eavesdropping. They evicted me from the full enjoyment of my own home."

"Oh, so now it's all my fault you want to become human for real?" Claymore fussed with the contents of his desktop. "I like you being dead. Don't see why I need to change anything now, just because you say so."

"Remember I have the power to take away everything you hold most dear." Daniel turned to sit in the chair behind him, linking his fingers across his abdomen. "All the treasure in your safe…"

He looked around the office. "All the secrets you have acquired through the years with your underhanded dealings and shady doings. All the property deals that were never quite kosher. I doubt you even lie straight in bed at night."

"I… what exactly do you want me to do?" Claymore adjusted the eyeshade on his forehead nervously. "I won't be a party to anything that's not legal."

"What I want, dear boy, is to appear real in the eyes of the human world. An altered document here, a fudged record there, nothing for you to lose any sleep over. You were quite successful with the creation of the late, unlamented Captain Horatio Mathers with myself as his executor. It was very neatly done. You have quite a talent. That was a work of art."

"You said that was for Mrs Muir. To explain to her parents how she could afford the money to buy the house from me. I went along with it because I didn't see any harm in it since the man was already dead. But now you want me to forge the public record again and make you real in this century?"

"Exactly," Daniel acknowledged.

Claymore's eyebrows rose to his hairline in consternation. "Well, I won't do it, I tell you! There's too much at stake. What if someone finds out this time? I have my reputation to consider. I could lose all my titles. I could even go to gaol!"

His face paled alarmingly. "I could be stripped of everything I value."

Daniel got up from his chair. "You seem to set a great deal of store by a reputation that is seen by all who know you as being nothing more than a rodent scoundrel without a solitary redeeming feature. They do not expect honesty from you. But I will make it worth your while."

"You said that before when you wanted me to do things for you last time!" Claymore waved a dismayed hand. "You never ask, you always command. And you don't do that very nicely either. Also, I want to be paid for my work. I don't work for free! It's past time I put my foot down."

"Very well…" Daniel sighed, raising his eyes heavenward in disbelief. "Dear, dear, Claymore, would you do me the inestimable honour of assisting me to forge the documents to allow me to become real in the eyes of the human world? I have a very good reason. You would be doing me a great service. For which I would be forever grateful. And you'll get your fee, blast it!"

"Well, I… I…" Claymore floundered, completely non-plussed. "That's much better. But, I must—"

"Has he not agreed to your terms yet?" Lucius Beaumont materialised on the other side of the desk, looking annoyed. "I've been waiting around for hours already. How much longer is this going to take? My wife despairs of my company this fine afternoon. We had planned to go riding."

"You've brought another ghostly friend, I see," Claymore commented unnecessarily, peering at his unexpected visitor with dislike. "Ganging up on me. I might have known. Just when things were going so well between us."

"This limp cod-fish is your only living relative?" Lucius frowned at him. "To me, he possesses more than a whiff of a parsimonious, double-dealer."

He raised a hand in Claymore's direction. "Shall I consign him to perdition for you since you seem unwilling to oblige? The devil can always find a use for another henchman."

"Oh, no…" Claymore swayed in his chair.

"Don't do that!" Daniel insisted sharply. "He has all the nerves of a spineless jellyfish. Anything and everything oversets him and he faints dead away. I don't have the time to await his revival."

Lucius lowered his hand. "If you believe he can be of use to you." He shrugged. "I suppose I can always vaporise him at some later point in time."

"Don't either of you dare touch me…" Claymore slid backwards in his chair, flopping to the floor in a groaning slide of despair.

"Does he do that often?" Lucius peered over the desk at Claymore's sprawled form with detached academic interest. "I was only joking about sending him to the devil. Though, I must say, if this spalpeen is all you have to work with, your store of patience is much better than I remember."

"Claymore is all we have to work with. And the one thing he does well is file paperwork." Daniel walked over to a nearby vase of flowers, striping the blooms from their holder. "You would do well to remember that in future. We need him awake and aware enough to do as we command."

He turned to hurl the watery contents of the vase into Claymore's face. His great-nephew jerked awake, spluttering and coughing.

"I do not have to remember anything, my dear fellow." Lucius shrugged. "This is your show. I am simply doing my part out of the goodness of my heart. I seem to have developed somewhat of a distressing taste for interfering in the affairs of the human world and making them squirm."

He reached to pull a nearby chair up to the side of the desk and sat down. He frowned over at a reviving Claymore. "Now shall we begin, before we lose all the daylight and my beloved wife stops speaking to me for a week?"

※※※※※

Paul Wilkie got out of his car and walked slowly up the snowy front path of Gull Cottage. His brow was creased in thought. He'd been reluctant to return to the house after his ignoble ejection the last time, but he needed answers and it seemed now that Carolyn Muir was the one who was going to help him.

This morning he'd finally had enough of waiting around to be confronted. After several long, hard days at the camp, he'd finally run out of options, supplies and patience.

He'd expected more activity than what he'd found there. The ghostly rumours, which had started out so promisingly on the first night, had fizzled out to nothing but a deepening cold, rising damp and the scurrying of unseen rats which plagued his ability to sleep.

He sneezed. "And I'm sure I'm coming down with something too…" he muttered, pressing the back of one anxious hand to his moist forehead.

His head ached and his empty stomach growled from missing breakfast that morning and last night's supper. He was on the point of surrendering. He just wanted to go home. But first, he would confront Carolyn Muir with what he already knew and see if he could frighten her into confessing.

In his extensive property search, looking for the recent purchaser of the Ghost Island camp from Claymore Gregg, he'd learned that Miss Martha Grant was now the registered owner. It seemed the property has passed quickly to her through the hands of a certain Miss Vanessa Peekskill of Boston.

Wilke was sure the purchase was a front for the real owner of the camp. As Christmas approached, he'd dug deeper into the records and found the link between this unknown Miss Grant and Carolyn Muir. Martha Grant was the elderly housekeeper he'd encountered at Gull Cottage pulling the string to move the foyer's chandelier. He'd disliked her immediately.

Wilkie doubted the older woman could afford to buy the camp outright. How or why an attractive young widow from Philadelphia was now in possession of two ghostly properties had confused him only briefly.

The answer was staring him right in the face. She'd rented the Gull Cottage house, sight unseen, more than two years ago. She must have heard it was rumoured to be haunted by the ghost of a long-dead sea captain. An irascible apparition only too willing to make his spooky presence known, much to Wilkie's delight and ultimate cost.

"Captain Daniel Gregg owes me and I intend to collect," he muttered as he walked up the front steps.

He'd put his neck firmly on the line, confidently assuring his peers he would find concrete proof for his belief in the supernatural and the existence of ghosts. He'd even managed to secure an advance from the university but they had also proposed a strict deadline which was fast approaching. If Wilkie found no proof, he would have to pay the money back and resign from his post with immediate effect.

Wilkie was completely unaware he was being trailed by a very fearful-looking Seaman Elroy Applegate and Mr Peabody. They'd kept a watchful eye on all the intruder's doings while remaining as silent as the grave as they'd been ordered.

The rats had done their work for them. As soon as Elroy had seen Wilkie packing up his car to leave, they'd quickly jumped into the back seat, anxious to know where he was going in such a hurry.

"Oh, my Captain's not going to like that he's come back here to his house…" Elroy mumbled, wringing his hands. "He's not going to like it at all..."

The cat walking beside him looked up without comment. Mr Peabody was not at all impressed with being dragged from his warm bed on this fool's errand.

"Well, no one can blame us," Elroy comforted himself. "At least, I don't think they can…"

"This whole place is cursed…" Wilkie pulled a handkerchief from his jacket pocket as he sneezed and blew his cold nose.

It all made sense when he thought about it while he was stuck out on a frozen island with only his injured pride and dark thoughts for company. He knew he was trespassing, but no one had appeared to evict him, which only cemented his suspicions that they already knew he was there and they didn't want to make a fuss.

Why else was Carolyn Muir living all the way out here, buried in the wilds of Maine? Wilkie had also uncovered a recent property purchase by the woman for Gull Cottage. The more he dug the surer he became of his facts.

He patted the copy of one of her latest books he'd tucked into his jacket pocket. 'The Ghost of Spirit Island.' He'd read it many times now, committing some of its passages to heart. He doubted anyone else had made the same connections he had.

There was more than one grain of truth in the novel, even if it was cloaked within the flowery prose of a piece of trashy romantic fiction about a supposedly dead sea captain who miraculously turned out to still be alive, but badly disfigured by the flames of a fierce sea battle.

"Cured by the love of a beautiful young woman, indeed…" Wilkie shook his head in disgust. "I'll never understand that part of it…"

"Who's he talking to?" Elroy demanded to know.

Mr Peabody yawned and sat down on the edge of the front porch. He was cold and he just wanted to go home.

"She will talk to me or else…" Wilkie tried to bolster his flagging courage.

The novel's existence had convinced him that Carolyn Muir knew her stuff and her ghosts. The woman obviously had a deep interest in studying the supernatural, but she was not about to allow anyone else to move into her territory and take away any of her impending glory when she finally got around to publishing her findings.

Her pretence of innocence hadn't fooled Wilkie the first time they'd met. But he wasn't as gullible as those men from the university who'd witnessed his downfall that night.

"Well, that's too bad…" He raised his hand to the knocker. "Because if she will not share what she knows then I will have to take it all away from her. The university faculty will be laughing on the other side of their faces soon enough when I finally prove to them that ghosts do exist, after all."

His firm use of the door knocker was quickly answered by a young boy carrying a large cookie and being trailed hopefully by a small dog. The animal turned its attention to Wilkie and barked at him sharply.

"Hi," the boy said cheerfully. He looked puzzled, seeming to recognise his unexpected visitor.

But his young face soon cleared and he shrugged. "What can I do for you?"

Wilkie frowned down at him. "Ah, hello…" He looked around the foyer. "Is your mother at home, son?"

"Yes…" The boy nodded, taking a huge bite of his cookie, watched closely by the growling dog at his feet.

"Then I need to see her," Wilke persisted. "Run along and tell her she has a visitor who's anxious to make her acquaintance again. Tell her it's important."

"Nope, can't do that." Jonathan shrugged.

"And why not?" Wilkie demanded irritably.

"'Cause she's lying down," Jonathan supplied truthfully. "She's taking a nap. Said we're not to wake her up for anything."

Wilkie glanced at his wristwatch. "At this time of the day?"

"Yep…" Jonathan took another huge bite of his cookie and the dog whimpered. "See ya. Thanks for calling…" He started to close the door.

"Yes, tell him to go away!" Applegate materialised in the foyer behind the boy. He was still wringing his hands and looking anxious. "Oh, my Captain's going to be so cross that I allowed this to happen…"

Jonathan put a hand over his mouth to conceal both his smile and his words. "It's okay, Elroy," he whispered. "Calm down. I got this."

"Good. I'm glad someone has…" Elroy shuddered.

"Wait!" Wilkie inserted his foot into the narrowed opening. "Don't you want to take my name and tell her I called?"

"Who is it, Jonathan?" A young girl appeared from the interior of the house.

She glanced at the agitated Elroy, who smiled back at her weakly. "Not my fault. He came by himself."

"Some guy who says he wants to talk to Mom." The boy shrugged, taking a further bite of his cookie.

"You know she's lying down and we're not to disturb her." The girl walked to the door to frown up at Wilkie.

Recognition seemed to flare in her eyes as well. "You'd better go. She won't like you being here."

"Now, wait just a minute…" Wilkie's levels of frustration began to rise. None of this was going as he'd planned.

"Told him that already," Jonathan replied in an injured tone. "He didn't listen."

"I'm sorry…" Candy took control of the door handle. "Our mother is not receiving today. But, thank you for calling." She too started to close the door.

Mr Peabody strolled in between Wilkie's legs. He debated if it was an idea to trip the intruder up and topple him back down the steps, but decided against it. He bristled at Scruffy instead, trading feline hisses for canine barks.

"Stop!" Wilke managed to wedge a shoulder into the opening, raising his voice over the noise. "Look, kids, I've come a very long way to see your mother. I know she'll want to see me and hear what I have to say. It'll be worth her while." He put a hand to his aching head.

Candy shrugged. "Sorry, but like we said, she's not seeing anyone today. Maybe come back some other time. Or better yet, telephone first. That's what I would do."

"Who's at the door, kids?" Martha bustled from the kitchen, wiping her hands on her apron.

She frowned at Elroy who danced on one foot to pull up his striped sock before saluting smartly. "Not my fault…" he muttered again. "I had orders."

"It's some guy who says he wants to see Mom," Jonathan replied. "Told him he can't."

"Well, I hope you said she's not seeing anyone today…" The housekeeper walked up to the door and her eyes gleamed with recognition. "Ah, good morning…" she said cautiously.

"Yeah, we told him," Candy replied grimly. "But he just won't go away. Someone is not going to be happy."

"Ooohhhh…" Elroy moaned. "I don't wanna get into any more trouble. Maybe I'd better leave." He half-materialised but failed to vanish completely, hovering between worlds.

"I get it," Wilkie replied impatiently. "Mrs Muir is lying down and doesn't want to be disturbed. Well, if she doesn't agree to see me, she will be disturbed, all right. I'll see to that. I've come a very long way and I intend to be heard. I believe I'm owed an explanation for that other time I was here."

He probed the glands in his neck with two fingers and coughed. "I'm not at all well. That camp was damp and draughty."

His empty stomach growled again at the delicious smells coming from the kitchen. He sighed roughly, wondering now if he had made a huge mistake in coming here. But it all seemed so logical and certain while he sat alone on a deserted island with only his chagrin at being outsmarted by two women, a couple of kids and their dog.

"What is going on here!?" Daniel materialised to demand brusquely. He stabbed a finger at Wilkie. "And what's he doing here? He better not be trying to disturb Carolyn's rest! I won't have it!"

"Oh, my Captain, Sir!" Applegate fully materialised again as he snapped a haphazard salute. "We didn't tell him to come here! He came all by himself! In his horseless carriage."

The three Gull Cottage residents strove to appear unfazed by Daniel's angry outburst. Scruffy took it as his cue to start worrying at Wilkie's trouser leg. The two children and Elroy drew back away from the door, allowing Martha to take centre stage in the unfolding drama.

"I'm sorry if you feel your journey has been wasted…" the housekeeper began. "If you'd care to leave a message, I'll see that Mrs Muir gets it when she wakes up." She grabbed Scruffy by the collar and hauled him back, sending him away into the kitchen, still growling.

"The only way I'm leaving is if the Captain himself appears to pick me up and throw me out," Wilkie challenged, looking all around the foyer. "I dare him to reveal himself to me, right now! I know he's here!"

"Is he seeing things again, Martha?" Jonathan asked. "Ow!"

Candy had elbowed him sharply in the ribs. "Ssshhh…" She put a warning finger to her lips.

Daniel stalked up to Wilkie, glaring down into his watchful face. "I am very tempted to do just that! Clap him in irons and make him walk the plank!"

"Aye, aye, Captain!" Elroy encouraged. "That's what we'll do!"

"Can't see how that will help," Martha said quickly. "I'm sure we can deal with it."

"What is going on down there?" Carolyn asked from the bend in the stairs. "I thought we said, no visitors. I don't want to see anyone."

"You'll want to see me, Mrs Muir…" Wilkie gave them all a look of triumph as he elbowed his way inside. "We have a great deal to talk about and I intend to get the answers I want and soon. I have a deadline I must meet and you're going to help me do just that or it will be the worse for you all."

※※※※※