Chapter Five

Keeping An Even Keel

"Hey! Where'd the Captain go?" Jonathan asked in a horrified whisper as both children watched the climactic end to the impressive performance through the cracks of the half-open doors. "What did they do to him?"

"Don't know," Candy replied worriedly. "But the Captain said we had to trust him. He said that pair of two-bit hustlers couldn't get rid of him, and he wouldn't lie to us. It must be some kind of trick."

"Yeah, but what kind? I sure don't trust Claymore," her brother shot back. "You don't suppose they've actually managed to make the Captain go away from us for good? Madame Tibaldi seems to know what she was doing, and Claymore paid her a lot of money to do it."

"No, I don't suppose…" Candy said doubtfully. "The Captain must be around here somewhere. He just has to be. We just can't see him right now. He wouldn't let them do that to him. It wouldn't be fair."

"Maybe he had no choice…" Jonathan worried. "No matter what he said to us. Maybe we'd better go and look for him. Make sure he's okay. He could be hurt or something."

"Yeah, I guess we'd better," Candy agreed. "No one else seems to care what happens to him. Even Mum isn't doing anything. She's just sitting there. She didn't try to stop it from happening."

"Yeah, blast…" Jonathan nodded. "Come on, let's go up to the wheelhouse first and see if he's there." They both turned and hurried up the staircase to search for their ghostly friend.

※※※※※

"Oh, my, oh, my, oh, my…" Claymore clapped his hands together in grinning ecstasy. "My very, very, dear Madame, you have proven yourself eminently worthy of your hire. I could almost be tempted to give you a bonus."

He waved one warning forefinger. "Almost…"

He jumped up from his chair and hurried around to the urn, picking it up and shaking it. He even peered inside with one cautious eye. "Just making sure that he's actually gone. You can never be too sure." He put the urn down again and danced a jig of delight as he shook his fist at the painting above the fire.

The little medium watched him with some troubled concern in her gaze. "I'm glad you approve of my many talents. I must say, I even impressed myself, tonight."

She frowned as she turned to Carolyn, settling one hand over hers. "You truly must see, my dear, that this moment had to be. The good captain was trapped here in this time by the awful events of his unfortunate demise. It's better for him that he's now with his own kind and happy. You mustn't look so sad. You must be joyful for him. He's finally free."

"Yes, but he said –" Carolyn shook her head as she caught her breath. "Do you truly think he's really gone forever?" The words felt like jagged barbs in her tight throat. "He can't be."

"Oh, my, yes…" The medium nodded with certainty. "No spirit has ever been able to stand against the power of my incantations. Rest assured, this house is now completely free of all spirits. You may sleep easy from now on. There's nothing here that'll go bump in the night ever again."

"How can you think I want that?" Carolyn whispered wretchedly.

"Oh, isn't it positively wonderful?" Claymore enthused, turning his back to the Captain's portrait. "I'm positively giddy with delight and gratitude. I cannot wait until Monday. The first day of the rest of my life!"

He walked to Madame Tibaldi's side and extended his crooked elbow. "May I escort you to your car, my dear? I do believe all our ghostly business here is complete."

"Well, I guess there's nothing more for me to do, here…" The medium glanced at Carolyn. "My things are in my car. As you know, I must be away early in the morning."

She got slowly to her feet. "But I do fear the children were rather fond of the salty old sea dog, weren't they? The young are so accepting of all things spiritual. I would hate to think I have harmed them in any way. That was never my intention."

"We all were rather fond of him…" Carolyn shook her head as she stood up. "This was his house. He belonged here."

She didn't feel like picking over the disastrous events of the evening. So much hadn't gone as she'd hoped. Now she didn't know what to think or how to feel.

"I'll see you out," she replied automatically, walking toward the doors.

"Thank you, my dear…" Tibaldi followed her with her hand still tucked in the crook of Claymore's arm. "But you will all soon see that it's been for the best. You must want what was right for the captain and the old biddy up in the attic."

"My conscience is clear," Claymore huffed as he opened the front door. "And as this is now solely my house, I will be back to see you first thing on Monday, Mrs Muir."

He pushed his hat onto his head. "Nice and early, if you please. We have a lot to discuss."

He patted Madame Tibaldi's hand on his arm. "Shall we, my dear? I think we have done a handsome night's work, here."

He turned his head to stare back into the living room and the captain's portrait hanging above the mantle. "That'll be the first thing to go…" he murmured with ill-concealed glee. "Mark my words."

"Good night, my dear…" Tibaldi kissed Carolyn's cheek. "Please do not concern yourself any further about the captain. Spirits must find their own level. You need to believe that and be happy. They can never be of our world, nor you of theirs. It's quite impossible."

"Happy?" Carolyn sighed as she raised her brows. "Good night, Madame Tibaldi…" she managed to reply. "Thank you for coming. I now have a most marvellous article to write."

"It was my pleasure, my dear…" Tibaldi's expression was filled with confusion. "I will always remember you and this house."

"Memories are good," Claymore stated, looking around the foyer. "Soon enough, that's all there'll be."

He sighed happily as he raised his hat to Carolyn. "Mrs Muir…" He glanced down at his companion. "Shall we?"

The pair of them walked away, arm in arm, down the front path, chatting happily with each other. Carolyn closed the door behind them and leaned back against the wood.

"Blast…" she said, with feeling as she walked into the foyer to frown at the portrait hanging above the fireplace. "Why did you leave so easily? Without a fight."

Furtive noises on the stairs alerted her to Candy and Jonathan sitting on the bend of the steps. Both looked so forlorn.

"He really isn't gone, is he, Mum?" her son asked hopefully. "I mean, it wouldn't be right. This house is where he belongs."

"Not right at all," Candy added, pursing her lips. "We would miss him something awful." She dropped her voice into a gruff bluster. "Grandpa Muir said we need a man about the house." Her bottom lip quivered. "Who better than the Captain?"

"I truly have no idea what's going on," Carolyn replied as she walked up the stairs to encourage her children to go back to their beds. "But things will look better in the morning. I'm sure of that. You should both be asleep."

"But we can't sleep. We've looked absolutely everywhere," Jonathan told her as both children got into bed.

"Yeah, everywhere," Candy confirmed, lying down on her pillows. "And the Captain's nowhere. He really wouldn't want to go away forever. Right, Mum?"

"Go to sleep now," Carolyn counselled with one hand on the light switch beside the door. "We'll talk about it in the morning."

"Okay…" her daughter sighed.

"Yeah, okay…" Jonathan agreed, closing his eyes.

Carolyn shut the door quietly behind her. Despite her children saying they had searched everywhere in the house; she knew she wouldn't be able to sleep until she'd done the same. She shook her head as she walked down the hallway to her bedroom.

※※※※※

The next morning, Martha walked into the living room humming a merry little tune under her breath. The sun was shining, and she'd slept well. She didn't care to know how the séance had gone. At least, Madame Tibaldi hadn't stayed over because her car was gone.

"Well, bless me. What on earth?" She stopped short at the forlorn sight that greeted her. The two Gull Cottage children were sitting on the couch looking lost and alone.

"Breakfast is ready," the housekeeper said cheerfully. "I hope you two are hungry. I've made a stack or two of your favourite blueberry pancakes. Come along, now. And leave those sad faces in here."

"Thanks, Martha." Jonathan sighed, propping his chin in his upraised palm. "But I'm not hungry."

"Yeah, thanks…" Candy added and sighed. "But I'm not hungry either."

"What's all this? Are we having a wake or something? What's the matter with this crew?" the housekeeper asked. "It's Sunday. You're always happy when there's no school."

"Yeah, we know." Jonathan pulled a face. "But Captain Gregg's gone. We looked and looked for him half the night. But he isn't here anymore. And now we know he won't be coming back, ever. Because Madame Tibaldi said so before she left last night with Claymore."

"It's not fair!" Candy complained. "She spoiled all our fun! And we even liked her, too! We thought she was neat!"

Working quietly on the tidy-up, Carolyn didn't comment as she turned from staring up at the Captain's portrait. She had spent half the night looking for a ghost who wasn't there. Or anywhere.

She'd slept badly and a dull headache nagged behind her eyes. She picked up the urn and frowned at it. Her eyes filled with unshed tears. There was nothing she could say that could make the fraught situation any better.

She felt as lost and abandoned as her children. She'd searched the house again early this morning and still found nothing. Even the wheelhouse and the widow's walk had a deserted feeling. It was almost as if the Captain had never existed at all.

She shook her head as she replaced the urn with a heavy sigh. As soon as they got up, her mournful children had looked to her for answers. She was forced to admit she had none. Then their unbounded gloom of loss had really set in, and Carolyn felt unable to help them.

"Well, my heavens." Martha chuckled her disbelief as she studied all of their downcast faces. "Just look at the three of you. Is that all you're worried about? Well, you know you were bound to lose your imaginary Captain someday. You two have just outgrown him, that's all. And it's time to let him go."

She shrugged. "I guess Madame Tibaldi's séance worked a treat, after all. Buck up. You'll soon make some new friends who are real."

"But he's gone," Candy said dolefully. "Will he ever be coming back? I want him to come back! It's not fair!"

"Life's not fair," Martha replied bracingly. "But that hair-brained little medium gave your mother some good material for her article, which means we all get to eat blueberry pancakes for breakfast, and we can afford to fill the pantry again."

She pointed with her thumb toward the kitchen. "So come along now and have your food before it gets cold." She turned away, shaking her head. "The imagination of children…"

As she left the room, she glanced back at Carolyn, who had still not said a word. Martha studied her forlorn expression with a puzzled frown, but she didn't comment.

"I guess we could all do with a strong cup of coffee…" She shrugged as she went back into the kitchen.

The two children got slowly off the couch, still looking downcast and miserable.

"Mum…" Candy asked, turning to her mother with hope in her sad eyes. "Is he truly gone forever? Say it isn't so. We really miss him."

Her brother nodded. "Yeah, we want him back. He likes us. He said so. He was teaching me all sorts of neat things. Like how to navigate by the sun and the stars and all."

His breathing hitched. "I'm sure he could come back. If he really wanted to." He shook his head. "Maybe he doesn't want to. Maybe wherever he is now, is better than here."

"Oh, now you know he's been gone before," Carolyn replied quickly, trying to put on a brave face as she picked up the urn again. "And for longer than this. You know how he gets sometimes when he wants to be alone. Sometimes, it's like he's not even here at all."

She didn't dare look up at the painting again with the children in the room. The pain of her loss was too raw. 'So much for romantic dreams of what could never be…'

"But no one has ever erased him before," Jonathan complained. "It's not right."

"Exorcised," Candy corrected him grimly.

"Yeah, well, it's the same thing," her brother argued. "He'll be so lonely without us to keep him company. Like he was before we came here. All grumpy and nasty. He said he hated that time when he saw only Claymore. And he really hates him."

"Now, kids. You know the Captain would never leave this house without saying goodbye. Now, would he?" Carolyn tried to buck them up. "So go on now and have your breakfast before it gets cold. I'm sure the Captain's not too far away and will be back before you know it."

"Okay, Mum," Jonathan replied before the two of them walked slowly from the room, dragging their feet.

Carolyn sighed as she put the urn down on a side table. She paused, thinking, and feeling very unhappy with the recent events. The unfairness of it all washed over her in a fresh wave of despair.

She braced herself as she turned to stare up at the portrait hanging above the fireplace. It frowned back at her with unconcern. She sighed as she turned away to gather the large, fringed shawl the medium had used as a tablecloth at the unfortunate séance of the previous evening.

"All right…" she began, folding up the shawl. "I know I should have listened to you when you first said you wanted her out of the house. Well, she's out now and Claymore has gone. You've got what you wanted. All the peace and quiet you could ever need."

She stood listening to the silence of the room. She grimaced as she continued to fold the shawl with jerky movements. "But, as you've always said, female!"

She struck a pose with two fingers pressed to her forehead. "Totally, eternally female!" She shrugged. "We're a stubborn lot and we don't know what's good for us! We need you to tell us!"

She went on folding the shawl and waited again, desperate for an answer. But nothing stirred and no one materialised to ease the pain of her loss. She blinked back her tears from falling.

"However…" She turned back to the portrait with a raised forefinger while clutching the shawl against her chest. "It all started out in fun and ended up… Well, of course, if you'd listened to me when I wanted to cancel the séance then none of this needed to happen. You would still be here, and we would still be… be just like a real family..."

Her face fell. "So, if I can forgive you, your mistake. Can't you forgive me mine?"

She waited, but still, nothing happened. Close to allowing her tears to fall, she tried again. "Please?"

She waited again, but there was only the brooding silence. Her shoulders finally slumped in defeat. Swallowing tightly, she began to turn from the portrait, wondering what she was going to do now. The pain of her headache intensified.

If the Captain had truly left them and was not coming back, then what did she have? An empty house that was now, just a house. The future stretched before her, barren and bare of everything she had come to value and cherish.

And to love… Her fractured breathing hitched.

Turning around, she stopped and stared at the apparition standing behind her with an amused expression. She gasped and blinked up at him.

She felt overcome with intense relief to find the Captain there, watching her with a beguiling smile that warmed his whole expression with intimate affection.

"I…" With her eyes wet with tears, Carolyn turned her back to him.

She didn't know what to say, or how to ask if he was staying. Tangled emotions raged through her on the wings of fire, heating her blood.

She longed to be able to turn back and walk into his embrace and have his powerful arms close tight around her. She wanted to cry out her distress in the strength of his shoulder and be comforted. She needed that desperately after the bad scare she'd just been put through.

"I've never yet been able to refuse a lady's apology," he said gently. "Especially a heartwarming one when she admitted she was wrong."

"Wrong?" Carolyn gasped as she turned back to him immediately. She was about to dispute his comment, but he beat her to it.

"Half wrong!" he quickly amended, raising a finger to silence her. His smile warmed and melted the ice from around her heart.

"All right…" She nodded and smiled through her tears. "Generous to a fault," she replied softly, hugging the folded shawl tightly as her restless fingers fiddled with its gold fringe.

"Of course…" The Captain watched her, seeing the tears sparkling in her eyes and knowing he was the cause. "But, thank you for coming to my defence. Those two charlatans think they have won the battle and the day. But I would never strike my colours to two such paltry opponents."

"You're welcome…" Carolyn whispered, looking back at him. "I didn't want to believe they could erase you."

The distracting memory of the poem Tim had returned to her, rose once more in her mind. She desperately wanted to ask him about it now. This was the moment when they were standing so close together and his mood was warm and accepting.

But once again, her courage failed her. After what Madame Tibaldi had said about all the women he'd entertained in his earthly life, knowing the truth could be worse than not knowing. Two ardent lovers entwined upon the wide bed in the moonlight…

She braced her shoulders instead. "Now, how could you let us worry like this? The children are distraught this morning. They think you've been banished forever. None of us got much sleep for worrying about you."

Her tears began to run down her pale cheeks. "They searched everywhere for you, last night." She shook her head. "And so did I."

"Awfully sorry about that, Madam," the Captain replied softly, taking a step closer to her. "I truly hate to see you cry, my dear. It quite unmans me." He half-raised one hand with the obvious intention of wiping away her tears with the ball of his thumb.

He sighed, shaking his head as he allowed his arm to drop. "But, if I hadn't completely disappeared, you would have had Madame Tibaldi as a permanent house guest. That charlatan would be conducting séances right, left and centre until she succeeded in exposing me or I was finally forced to throttle her." His lips twisted wryly.

"Yes, I guess you could be right…" Carolyn laughed softly, wiping at her eyes with her thumb. "She was very keen on proving you were here. She meant well, I suppose. She really seemed to tune into your presence in this house. She knew things and said things she couldn't possibly have known otherwise."

She hesitated, not wishing to cause him more pain. "But she knew all about the terrible manner of your death and the coroner's unjust verdict." She exhaled roughly. "That wasn't common knowledge. How is it possible?"

"That confounded woman saw and understood a great deal more than she should," the Captain replied quietly. "She stirred up memories and precious things I had long forgotten…"

He moved closer still, his gaze settling on the luminous curve of her lips. "Like the satin softness of a woman's skin and the beguiling scent of her perfume…" He inhaled deeply.

"Beguiling…" Carolyn managed to ask around the renewed tightness in her throat. "I… like the sound of that word…"

"Oh, you beguile me all right, my dear…" the Captain whispered. "All life is such a wonderful gift. It should be celebrated and appreciated until your last breath. Why, if I still possessed a heart it would be beating its way out of my ribs right now…"

"Mine, too…" Carolyn fixed her eyes on the generous curve of his mouth. "She said you liked the scents of lavender and sandalwood…" she replied softly. "I remember…"

"I also enjoyed the mingled scents of beeswax candles, roses and fine champagne…" The Captain sighed. "To see a woman's soft white skin glowing in the candlelight and wearing nothing but diamonds and pearls…" His hands flexed at his sides as if he was trying to prevent himself from reaching for her.

Carolyn's cheeks warmed at the wanton idea of his touch, and she swallowed tightly. "It all sounds so very romantic…" Again, she wanted him to reach for her, knowing it was impossible.

"It was and it is," he replied gently, looking down at her from a mere breath away. "It also could be, if only…"

Carolyn swayed slightly toward him. "You were trying to tell me something that day you carried Scruffy into the house when he wouldn't stop barking at you. I remember seeing you pick him up. I mean, how could that be? Surely, it was impossible. You also touched that seal the children brought home from the beach last year. I saw you do it right in front of us. I didn't think much of it then, but lately, I've begun to wonder what is possible…"

The Captain's shoulders lifted. "Oh, my dear lady, I truly wish I could explain. But I still need to —"

Suddenly, there was a loud, impatient knocking at the front door. They both jumped.

"Blast…" the Captain muttered with feeling.

"I'll get it…" Carolyn shook her head as she wiped at her damp cheeks and began to walk away to answer it.

The Captain stopped her by saying, "I think I know who that is. Someone who wants to talk to you."

"Yes…" Carolyn sighed. "I think I know too."

They smiled at each other, communicating without words for a long moment. The Captain shook his head as he slowly vanished and Carolyn wiped the last of the tears from her cheeks with her fingers.

She heard that Martha had already answered the door. "Good morning, Claymore," the housekeeper said cheerfully. "What brings you to our door like an ill wind, this early on a Sunday morning? It's not bad news for us, I hope."

"Good morning, Martha," Claymore replied brightly. "And I have the most wonderful news! Is Mrs Muir here? I know I said Monday, but I just couldn't wait. I need to see her right away. I must share my happiness and joy."

"She's here…" Martha replied stepping back reluctantly to allow him to enter the house. "But I don't like the look on your face. You're never this happy, this early in the morning. Something's up."

"Oh, Martha…" Claymore waved an admonishing finger as he walked into the foyer. "It's a beautiful morning and I'm ecstatic. In fact, I'm quite bursting with bonhomie…"

He smiled when he saw Carolyn still standing in the living room. "Ah, there you are. Good morning, Mrs Muir…"

Martha shook her head as she walked back into the kitchen. "Well, now I'm feeling as depressed as the children. Maybe hanging out a whole load of washing in the sunshine of the backyard will cheer me up…"

Claymore doffed his hat with easy assurance and danced a couple of steps with delight. "I do hope I'm not disturbing you, my dear. I've come here on a very urgent business matter. I couldn't sleep for the joy of it all."

Still confused and troubled by the recent events, Carolyn managed to smile at him. "Oh, not at all. It's a very happy morning."

"Oh, yes, isn't it just lovely?" Claymore crowed. "What a change, Mrs Muir. Serenity and harmony and the birds singing everywhere. I am feeling quite on top of the world and about to make myself a very tidy fortune. I've just closed the deal of the century. Tomorrow, I'm going to sign a new contract to sell everything along Bay Road. Every last nail and board, all gone and him along with it!"

He waved an expansive hand as he walked around her, then stopped, smiling widely. "That's why I'm here. I simply couldn't wait another minute."

He leaned closer. "I want to terminate your lease. Clean and dried. I want you all out by the end of the week. I've already booked a removal van in your name. It'll be here first thing in the morning. You may take anything you please. It all has to go."

"I… You what?" Carolyn spun around to stare up at him. "I have no intention of leaving this house. Have you been drinking?"

"Not a drop!" Claymore tut-tutted. "But, I'm afraid, Mrs Muir, this awful house of yours is going to be torn down. Right to the ground and then the foundations will be ripped out and the basement filled in. Not a trace of it, not a single scrap, will remain. Isn't it positively wonderful? There's nothing, and no one, to stop me now."

He looked around himself, puffing out his chest. "The place is old and falling down anyway. Better it's pulled down first before someone gets hurt."

"Someone will get hurt…" Carolyn sighed and shook her head slowly. "Oh, Claymore. I wouldn't be too hasty…"

Her landlord smiled down at her. "Oh, but you're not to worry your pretty little head about all the bothersome details. I've found another house that you and the children will love. For twice the rent, of course. You can see my dilemma. One thing I am not is a charity."

"You certainly don't have a heart," Carolyn replied testily.

Behind them, the Captain's portrait began to rattle on the wall. Claymore turned in dismay. He sucked in a gasp of fear as it moved off the wall. "It can't be! You're not here! I made you go away!"

"Guess again, you underhanded oaf!" the Captain's disembodied voice snarled as the portrait flew off the wall and came toward Claymore's head.

"Oh, no!" Claymore staggered backwards, trying to avoid being struck by the heavy frame. "What's happening? I paid good money to have you banished! You're gone! I saw you go!" He waved his hands.

"You penurious, penny-pinching lease breaker!" the Captain raged. "You quivering bowl of blancmange! Did you think you and your conniving ways could banish me? Think again!"

"Get away!" Claymore fell to the floor, scrambling to escape the attack. "You can't be back! You just can't! That woman swore she'd seen you off!"

He managed to find his feet, running for the front door. "I paid fifty dollars for that séance! And two whole dollars for the herbs! It's not fair!" He fled outside and down the front path to his car before the Captain could renew his attack.

The excited children left their breakfast and came spilling out of the kitchen, glad to see the ghost of Gull Cottage had not deserted them, after all. He reappeared, carefully readjusting his portrait back into position on the wall.

"Captain, you're back!" Candy declared unnecessarily. "Groovy!"

"Yeah! We thought you were gone forever," Jonathan added.

"We didn't have enough faith," Carolyn added, shaking her head. "Go on now, kids. Go and finish your breakfast, then go out and help Martha with the washing. I need to talk to the Captain, alone."

"Okay, Mum…" Both retreated slowly back to the kitchen, turning to look over their shoulders.

Carolyn turned to the ghost who was watching her closely. She returned his regard, feeling all her anguish of the past hours finally melting away.

"Well, I'm glad to see everything around here is back to normal," she said, as they exchanged a companionable laugh at Claymore's well-deserved expense.

"You wished to speak with me in private, Madam," the Captain said quietly, his expression sobering as he leaned one elbow on the mantlepiece. He bowed his head. "I am entirely at your service."

"Thank you, Captain. I…" Carolyn frowned as she struggled to formulate the many questions that were roiling in her mind. "What you said before when I —"

The Captain's expression became aloof once more as he held up one hand. "There is really no need to thank me, Madam. I would have done the same for anyone under my command. A good captain always looks out for his crew. Claymore needed to be taught a lesson he would not forget in a hurry. I will not have him bothering you with trifles."

"Crew…" Carolyn regarded him steadily. "So, to you, we're all still just your crew." Her heart flipped over and sank to her shoes.

"Of course, Madam…" The Captain watched her with narrowed eyes. "And as such, you will take my orders with good grace and a cheerful willingness to comply. I expect nothing less from now on. It is the only way to keep order and some much-needed discipline aboard this ship."

"I see…" Carolyn frowned. "I had thought we'd finally gone beyond that rather irksome arrangement. I hoped…" She sighed, remembering the sweet dream where he'd kissed her cheek.

She knew she'd whispered his name. Her lips thinned with chagrin. Of course, it had only been a silly dream born of tiredness. Nothing to do with stark reality. She was flesh and blood, and he was not.

"Ah, hope…" The Captain shook his head slowly. "I'm afraid some things are still as unobtainable as the stars, Madam." He straightened from leaning on the mantlepiece. "You must understand what may be changed and accept that which cannot. I have."

"Must I?" Carolyn stared up at him.

He now appeared to be regretting his previous intimacy and openness. He'd withdrawn from her again and she had no way of reaching him in this mood.

The Captain lifted one shoulder in silent denial of her question. "Tomorrow is once again, Monday. Shall we share our usual weekly glass of Madeira up in the Wheelhouse at four? I have missed those times."

"Me too…" Carolyn blinked hard against the sting of fresh tears. "And not a single minute after four…" she whispered brokenly even as she nodded. "Thank you. I would enjoy that, Captain."

"Excellent. Until four o'clock tomorrow, then…" The Gull Cottage ghost stared at her as he faded slowly from view leaving her standing alone and deeply discombobulated beneath his portrait.

He had returned and everything was back to normal. "Then why do I feel so discontented with that now?" she asked as she looked up at his portrait. "When I said I wouldn't marry you if you were the last ghost on earth..."

She reached out to touch the bottom of the wooden frame. "I really didn't mean what I said that day. I would marry you in a heartbeat. If only it were at all possible…" She dropped her hand and turned away, feeling more bereft now than at any time in the last two years of living with the troublesome spirit of a contrary man she had come to love with all her heart.

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