his
existence. “You’re speaking to me!” His handsome face lit with hope. “You’re
believing I’m a real then?”
“No.
But, I know I’m not crazy and that’s enough for the moment. If I was crazy,
this would all make more sense.”
“What?”
Robert frowned, thinking she was talking to him. “Are you feeling alright, Grace?”
He didn’t bother to wait for a response, because he didn’t care. “Look, I’ll
need to get dressed, if we’re going somewhere. Since you’re determined to be
so childish about this, I’m willing to spend all evening making amends, but I
can’t be seen in public without a shirt and tie.”
“Relax,
Robert. You’re staying here with Miss Peperoni. I’m the one
leaving and I’m not coming back.”
“Thank
bleeding Christ.” Jamie crossed himself in relief. “ Finally she sees
reason. Maybe there’s some hope for the woman, yet.”
Robert
wasn’t nearly so thrilled by the news of their break up. “But, darling…”
Grace
cut him off. “I don’t think we’re made for each other, Robert. In fact, I
think I’ve been kidding myself for the past year. You see, I’ve just realized
something very important.” She climbed into the car and started the ignition,
leaning forward to glower at him out the passenger’s window. “I suck at being
normal.”
Chapter Three
June 21, 1789- JMR is quite the handsomest man in
town. He’s also charming, energetic in his love-making, and willing to spend
his gold on pretty things. Such a shame he isn’t in some respectable trade or
I’d convince him to marry me, regardless of what Mother and Father had to say.
But
no respectable girl can have her good name linked to a pirate!
From
the Journal of Miss Lucinda Wentworth
For
the first time since he died, things were looking up.
Jamie
smiled at Grace, hoping he appeared as nonthreatening as a specter could possibly appear. The girl was a jumpy little thing. He didn’t want to scare her
into ignoring him again. “Feeling better?”
“Well,
I’m still seeing ghosts, so I’m certainly not doing great . ” Grace sat
across from him in an overstuffed floral arm chair, drinking wine straight from
the bottle, and eating ice cream for dinner. (Low fat vanilla, of course. The
girl truly needed to expand her horizons.) A patchwork mountain of pillows was
piled around her. They matched the rest of her mix-matched furnishings. “God,
this is just the worst night of my life.” She muttered and drank some more
wine. “Which is really frigging saying something.”
“You’re
well rid of such a man, lass.” Jamie detested her ex-boyfriend with a passion
he’d once reserved for Red Coats. The bastard had tried to steal what was
rightfully Jamie’s and had not even treated her well. He wouldn’t soon forget
the sight of the man shaking Grace, his hand leaving angry red marks on her
arm. Back in his day, Jamie would have run the wanker through with a sword. “That
Robert is a waste…”
“Oh
who cares about him?” She interrupted. “Jesus, Robert’s the least of my
problems. I watched Grey’s Anatomy . Seeing ghosts? It usually means a
brain tumor.” Grace’s dark curls were drawn up in a messy topknot and a few
more tendrils fell around her shoulders as she shook her head. “I can’t deal
with a brain tumor. I don’t even have health insurance anymore.” She reached
up to rub her forehead. “Darn it, I cried through that whole season.”
“You
donea have a brain tumor.”
“That’s
probably just what a brain tumor would say.” Grace flashed him an
impatient glare. “Look, I need some time to think, alright? Why don’t you go
warn someone the British are coming or something? Either that or just shut up
for once.”
At
least she was looking at him now. Jamie counted that as progress. “Of course.”
He agreed. He would have agreed to
existence. “You’re speaking to me!” His handsome face lit with hope. “You’re
believing I’m a real then?”
“No.
But, I know I’m not crazy and that’s enough for the moment. If I was crazy,
this would all make more sense.”
“What?”
Robert frowned, thinking she was talking to him. “Are you feeling alright, Grace?”
He didn’t bother to wait for a response, because he didn’t care. “Look, I’ll
need to get dressed, if we’re going somewhere. Since you’re determined to be
so childish about this, I’m willing to spend all evening making amends, but I
can’t be seen in public without a shirt and tie.”
“Relax,
Robert. You’re staying here with Miss Peperoni. I’m the one
leaving and I’m not coming back.”
“Thank
bleeding Christ.” Jamie crossed himself in relief. “ Finally she sees
reason. Maybe there’s some hope for the woman, yet.”
Robert
wasn’t nearly so thrilled by the news of their break up. “But, darling…”
Grace
cut him off. “I don’t think we’re made for each other, Robert. In fact, I
think I’ve been kidding myself for the past year. You see, I’ve just realized
something very important.” She climbed into the car and started the ignition,
leaning forward to glower at him out the passenger’s window. “I suck at being
normal.”
Chapter Three
June 21, 1789- JMR is quite the handsomest man in
town. He’s also charming, energetic in his love-making, and willing to spend
his gold on pretty things. Such a shame he isn’t in some respectable trade or
I’d convince him to marry me, regardless of what Mother and Father had to say.
But
no respectable girl can have her good name linked to a pirate!
From
the Journal of Miss Lucinda Wentworth
For
the first time since he died, things were looking up.
Jamie
smiled at Grace, hoping he appeared as nonthreatening as a specter could possibly appear. The girl was a jumpy little thing. He didn’t want to scare her
into ignoring him again. “Feeling better?”
“Well,
I’m still seeing ghosts, so I’m certainly not doing great . ” Grace sat
across from him in an overstuffed floral arm chair, drinking wine straight from
the bottle, and eating ice cream for dinner. (Low fat vanilla, of course. The
girl truly needed to expand her horizons.) A patchwork mountain of pillows was
piled around her. They matched the rest of her mix-matched furnishings. “God,
this is just the worst night of my life.” She muttered and drank some more
wine. “Which is really frigging saying something.”
“You’re
well rid of such a man, lass.” Jamie detested her ex-boyfriend with a passion
he’d once reserved for Red Coats. The bastard had tried to steal what was
rightfully Jamie’s and had not even treated her well. He wouldn’t soon forget
the sight of the man shaking Grace, his hand leaving angry red marks on her
arm. Back in his day, Jamie would have run the wanker through with a sword. “That
Robert is a waste…”
“Oh
who cares about him?” She interrupted. “Jesus, Robert’s the least of my
problems. I watched Grey’s Anatomy . Seeing ghosts? It usually means a
brain tumor.” Grace’s dark curls were drawn up in a messy topknot and a few
more tendrils fell around her shoulders as she shook her head. “I can’t deal
with a brain tumor. I don’t even have health insurance anymore.” She reached
up to rub her forehead. “Darn it, I cried through that whole season.”
“You
donea have a brain tumor.”
“That’s
probably just what a brain tumor would say.” Grace flashed him an
impatient glare. “Look, I need some time to think, alright? Why don’t you go
warn someone the British are coming or something? Either that or just shut up
for once.”
At
least she was looking at him now. Jamie counted that as progress. “Of course.”
He agreed. He would have agreed to
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