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stomach "... safe."
    "Safe? I seriously doubt Alasdair would agree. No matter, Delaney was still too forward in his actions, just like Mrs. Maclean was when she stole my betrothed."
    "She bought your betrothed, sweetie, and Mr. Delaney wasn't forward. He was courteous."
    "He was cocky."
    "Aye, I believe you mentioned that already," Flora said dryly.
    Gillian's mouth twitched with a grin at that, though the seriousness of her point quickly quashed the urge. "Cocky as in bold and brash, sister dear. He claims to be a writer, but for all we know, he could have come to Rowanclere for nefarious purposes."
    "He had references from a full dozen English peers."
    "So? Sleekit men can fool anyone. Perhaps he is a thief who is here to steal our valuables."
    "Now you are being silly."
    "True," she said flippantly. "We have no valuables. Uncle Angus's brother sold them all."
    "Gillian."
    Hugging one of her pillows to her chest, she sulked a few moments before saying, "Ah, all right. Perhaps I should not be so distrustful. Still, I sense Mr. Delaney is more than he presents himself to be."
    A wicked light sparked in her sister's eyes. "Considering your description of how much the man presented, that is saying quite a lot."
    * * *
    Jake tucked Scooter beneath his arm as he made his way downstairs the following morning. He'd slept surprisingly well for a man so recently "haunted" in his bedchamber. Probably because he would have enthusiastically welcomed the seductive spirit into his bed.
    He'd heard tales of headless ladies and green ladies and gray ladies, various ghouls, bogles, and brownies, and while he didn't necessarily believe in them, he wasn't prepared to discount the stories entirely. However, such phenomena had nothing at all to do with the shapely flesh-and-blood woman who had invaded his privacy yesterday. Even before he'd pulled on his pants this morning, he had decided to track down the elusive illusion while he was here at Rowanclere. There was no reason he couldn't keep an eye out for her at the same time he searched the confines of the castle for the piece of Texas history suspected to be harbored within its walls.
    After all, he ought to get some fun out of this trip.
    Last night and again this morning he had examined the portion of the wall where the apparition had appeared, and while he was certain a hidden passage existed, he'd failed to locate the mechanism that opened it. He'd decided to look for it again at different times throughout the day. Changing light altered how a room appeared, exposing different details.
    Right now, however, he wanted to survey the lay of the land, get his bearings, and develop a plan on how to best conduct his search. In light of yesterday's events, his decision to conceal the true purpose of his visit appeared to have been the right one. Rowanclere definitely had its share of intrigue.
    Reaching ground level, Jake eventually found himself back in the centrally located room that presently served as Rowanclere's entry hall. He eyed his choice of doors. The most appealing led past the dining room he'd noticed yesterday. The least appealing led outside. Out of doors where he should take Scooter. Where a light mist fell. An undoubtedly cold, light mist.
    Jake gave the dog in his arms a scowl and muttered, "Pest."
    Outside, he surveyed the surroundings for an appropriate spot to set Scooter down, settling on a spot of green grass beside rosebushes in bloom. With her business taken care of. Scooter happily took to sniffing around. Jake flipped up the collar on his jacket, hunched his shoulders, stuck his hands into his pockets, and burrowed in to wait on her. Damn, but he was miserable cold. Here it was the middle of summer and he could all but see the fog of his breath on the air.
    "It's a helluva way to live," he observed to Scooter, who had fastened a hunter's gaze upon a lark perched upon the spreading branches of a nearby birch tree. The brainless mutt had yet to accept she was no longer