A Loving Spirit Read Online Free PDF Page A

scurry away when she found him there in the library, even though it was quite an improper situation. She did not back away from his questions about life in Jamaica. Instead, she faced him directly and unflinchingly, not at all awed by his title or position.
    Very unusual.
    Phillip gave a little, self-mocking laugh. His experience with well-bred young ladies was admittedly not wide. He escorted his mother to Town when the occasion warranted. He squired her about to stultifying Society balls, and met with his publisher and other scholars. He enjoyed the discussions and debates, but could distinctly do without the balls.
    All the young ladies there would cluster about him like so many pastel-clad butterflies, giggling and chattering on about fashions and parties. It gave him a headache just thinking about the superficial chaos of it all.
    He always felt such an outsider at those occasions, as if he were speaking a different language from the people around him, and he longed to be home at Royce Castle, with his books and studies.
    He knew very well that one day he would have to marry, to carry on the family line and add to the portraits that clustered on every wall. But he had always imagined he would find a sensible woman when the time came, a widow or spinster bluestocking, who could share his interest in antiquity and bring up equally sensible children.
    Miss Richards was obviously not a sensible bluestocking by any stretch of the imagination. She did not know much about classical history, nor did she scruple to admit her interest in the so-called supernatural. She had worn a most daring gown of canary-yellow satin to supper, along with dazzling beaded earrings and a carved stone pendant. She had chattered brightly with his mother about ghosts and popular novels.
    All the things he usually so disliked. But he had not been bored in the least. Rather, he had been quite fascinated and had wanted to listen to her more, to lean closer to her and breathe deeply of her exotic perfume.
    It was all most odd. If he were to subscribe to the ideas of Miss Richards, her enigmatic friend Miss Duvall, and his mother, he would say he was under a spell.
    But more likely it was the lateness of the hour, he thought, as the clock struck three. And the fact that he had been working so hard of late. It was making him tired and distracted. Perhaps his mother was right. Company would do him some good.
    He would just have to spend more time with Miss Richards—and Lady Willowby and Miss Duvall, of course—and see if that helped cure these fancies. No doubt once he spent more time with Cassandra Richards, her exotic appeal would wear off and his life would return completely to normal. No more talk of ghosts, no more rich perfumes, just ancient wars and philosophy.
    On that comforting thought, he closed his books, blew out the candles, and left the library for bed.
    * * *
    Two unseen "people," perched atop the rolling library ladders, watched him go with great interest.
    "Oh, this is going to be amusing!" said Louisa, twisting one long, golden ringlet about her finger. "He is infatuated with that girl already and will not admit it."
    "He cannot admit it," Sir Belvedere said, his armor clanking as he turned a page over in the book he was perusing. If Phillip had still been in the library, he might have looked up to see a volume floating about in midair, but he would have put it down to fatigue or a bad cheese at dinner. Just as he always did.
    This amused Sir Belvedere and Louisa to no end, brightening their endless days and nights in the castle. And now it looked as if the amusement was about to increase.
    "I like that Miss Richards and her tall, strange friend. I should not have been so mischievous about making the portrait move, when they are so very nice!" said Louisa in a most chagrined tone. "They believe in us; they know we are here."
    "Not as of yet, my fair lady. But they will know when we reveal ourselves to them." Sir Belvedere's visor fell