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long.”
    Griselda handed a couple of Manhattans to Creighton and Marjorie before mocking Pru. “ It’s been just me and the men for much too long. Who do I look like? Tommy Dorsey?”
    “No,” Creighton quipped, “but in that dress, you could pass as his trombone.”
    Griselda bared her teeth at Creighton and went back to her bartending duties.
    Marjorie, holding her drink in one hand, leaned down and hugged her sister-in-law with the other. “I’m glad we’re going to be sisters, too.”
    It was a true statement. Whether it was because of the woman’s sweet, gentle face or the complete ingenuousness of her words and actions, Marjorie took an instant liking to Pru. Unfortunately, she also sensed that Pru might be the sort of soul who required protection from the less-than-kind characters in the world.
    This suspicion was borne out as Pru summoned a woman from across the room. She was dressed in a white, floor-length tunic with bell sleeves that set off her dark olive complexion; her straight black hair was pulled into a tight chignon, and around her neck she wore a large gold pendant fashioned in the Egyptian style.
    “I want you both to meet someone. Cassandra, this is my brother-in-law, Creighton,” Pru introduced.
    “How do you do?” Creighton asked as he extended his hand.
    Cassandra did not accept it, but stood, palms together, as if in prayer.
    “And this,” Pru went on, “is Creighton’s wife—my new sister-in-law, Marjorie.”
    Marjorie did her best to mimic Cassandra’s pose while simultaneously juggling her cocktail glass. She then punctuated the pose with a small bow.
    Again, Cassandra was motionless.
    “Cassandra is a spiritualist and medium,” Pru announced. “She’s been helping me get in touch with my spirit guide, Omari.”
    “Ahhhh,” Marjorie and Creighton sang in unison.
    “Prudence’s guide is tall, strong, and handsome; he stands at her right side, as he has done since her birth many ages ago in ancient Egypt,” Cassandra explained.
    “Isn’t she wonderful?” Pru exclaimed. “Cassandra has helped me understand my purpose. Before I met her, I felt so bored … so unfulfilled. Edward and I still live with Father, so we have no home of our own. No children. Cassandra made me understand that I am paying debts from my past life, but that I am not alone. Omari is with me, helping me along.”
    “That’s—that’s wonderful,” Marjorie politely remarked.
    Creighton, however, would not leave well enough alone. “You mean to say,” he started, “that we all have these spiritual guides?”
    “Yes,” Cassandra confirmed.
    “Then Marjorie and I have them, too?”
    “Indeed.”
    “Well, don’t hold back,” Creighton prompted. “Tell us about our guides.”
    Cassandra stared at Marjorie for several seconds. “You, fair lady, are smiled upon by the most powerful and sacred, Bastet. The goddess Bastet is the protector of all women, children and felines, but with you, her presence is especially strong.”
    “How lovely. Thank you.” Marjorie smiled broadly and took a sip of her Manhattan.
    As Creighton broke into uproarious laughter, a man joined them. He was similar in height and build to Creighton, but his coloring and facial features were the spitting image of the elder Ashcroft.
    “What’s going on?” he asked.
    “Hullo, Edward,” Creighton greeted him. “I don’t think you’ve met my wife, Marjorie.”
    “No I haven’t, but she was all Father talked about this afternoon.” Edward extended his hand in welcome. “Welcome to the family, Marjorie.”
    Marjorie accepted his hand and smiled graciously.
    “Cassandra was just telling us that Marjorie is the favorite of the Egyptian goddess, Bastet,” Creighton explained to his brother.
    “What’s wrong with that?” Marjorie demanded.
    “Nothing,” Creighton allowed, “except that we’ll need two staterooms for the trip home: one for me and the other for that swollen head of yours.”
    “Ha, ha,”