The Ghost and Jacob Moorhead by Jeanne Savery Page A

ghosts . On the other hand , if I am going mad … “What did you say, Cousin Mary? I was woolgathering.” He stared at his plate on which the footman had deposited two chops drowned in sauce. He grimaced and pushed it away.
    “What I said was that I wonder if Jenna would have wed him even if he asked.”
    Did ask , the voice said again.
    This time Jacob avoided turning his head—but prickles ran up his spine and lifted the hair at the back of his neck. The untouched chops were replaced by a filet of fish, once again hidden under a thick sauce. Jacob frowned. “Cousin, do you think you could convince the chef I don’t care for heavy sauces and would much prefer my meats au naturel ?”
    “I’ll talk to him tomorrow,” she said. “He has a good touch with flavor but, I agree, the sauces are a bit heavy, smothering rather than adding to the enjoyment of the meat or fish. I think,” she added after a moment’s thought, “I will suggest they be served separately so one may take only as much as one wishes.”
    Jacob used his knife to uncover his fish. Once there was only a bit of sauce he discovered he agreed with his cousin. The flavor was excellent. He said so. The meal continued, their conversation rather desultory, and Jacob realized the covers were about to be removed and the port placed on the table. Waving it away, he stood. “I’ve some paperwork to see to in the office,” he lied. “I’ve everything to learn, you know, about estate management.” That wasn’t a lie. “I doubt I’ll see you again this evening, Cousin, so I’ll say good night now.”
    Jacob had already spent much of the afternoon in his granduncle’s well-appointed office at the back of the house where he’d begun perusing account books and other material he’d found in orderly files, a first step toward learning the business of the estate. But now, pretending to go there, he actually found a secondary set of stairs and headed for the third floor, two above the family’s bedrooms, where, among the secondary guestrooms, Mary had found a suite that satisfied her.
    An odd choice , surely , thought Jacob. Unless she has a reason for wanting privacy ?
    Across from her suite was a linen closet. Jacob entered it, pulled a pile of neatly folded blankets from a shelf, put them on the floor and settled himself to wait for…well, for what he feared would come about.
    He hoped he was wrong.

Chapter Four
     
    “Really, Aunt Mary, you know I cannot join the family at meals.”
    “Definitely not,” said Jenna from her bed.
    “The both of you can and will. And you, Jenna, know why.” Mary stared at Mrs. Jennings, daring her to deny the relationship between herself and Mary’s father.
    I would like it if you ’ d agree , whispered a voice in Jenna’s ear. I ’ d very much like it if Verity and Jacob fell in love but they must have time together , have the opportunity —
    From where she stood on the far side of the bed, her back rigid with determination, Verity interrupted the words she couldn’t hear. “My grandfather wanted nothing to do with me. I want nothing to do with—”
    Jenna lifted her hand and Verity’s voice stopped very nearly in the middle of a word. “I have changed my mind,” said Jenna.
    “Why?” asked her outraged niece.
    “For several very good reasons.” Jenna’s mouth closed in a tight line.
    “I won’t.”
    “I think you will,” said Jenna and then sighed. “And so will I. When I’m better and am able to be up and around.”
    “ Why ?”
    “Why? Because I like Mary and she has convinced me I must retire. She has asked that I be her guest here. I have decided I’d like that.”
    “Retire?” repeated Verity. She drew in a deep breath and stiffened her spine. “Then I shall take your position. I know I’m young, but I was well trained and Emma—”
    “ And nonsense . You are my father’s granddaughter and you must act like it.”
    “I’m not . He disinherited my father. Daddy was no longer