"I heard nothing at all." He really didn't know why he'd awoken, but something had then compelled him to leave his room.
She thought it prudent not to mention Rollo, for Sir Greville the Grim was unlikely to believe in such things. All she wanted was to return to her room and close the door upon all things Seton. "Well, I was probably dreaming," she said.
"Undoubtedly." His candle fluttered as he stood aside suddenly. "Well, don't let me keep you from your slumbers a moment longer, madam."
She hurried thankfully past him, wishing hot candle wax would splash on his bare toes.
Megan opened her eyes to bright sunshine the next morning. It was Friday, December 19, and she could see by the ice-fringed ivy leaves around the window that there had been a sharp dawn frost. There was a great deal of noise coming from outside, hammering, shouting, and the occasional rumble of falling masonry. She flung the bedclothes back and went to look out, for everything had been in darkness when she and Evangeline arrived last night.
She found herself gazing out over a small walled garden and the Radcliffe House stables toward what was left of the northern end of Great East Street. Most of it had already been demolished, and gangs of workmen were bringing down what was left. There were clouds of dust, and carts were hauling away the rubble.
Several miles to the north of Radcliffe House were the ice-whitened Downs, where windmills awaited the breeze, but immediately to the south lay the present quite modest grounds of the Marine Pavilion, which would soon be greatly extended when the intrusion of Great East Street was no more. Already a great stable was abuilding, comprising an immense dome that to Megan's eyes looked as large as St. Paul's Cathedral itself. The main entrance to the Pavilion was from the undisturbed section of Great East Street, and beyond it lay the rest of the old town. Then there was the sea, sparkling brightly in the winter sun, and far out on the horizon a squadron of Royal Naval frigates sailing toward Portsmouth.
The walled garden of Radcliffe House was well tended even in the depths of winter, and although the frost precluded any work as yet this morning, it was clear that Evangeline's two gardeners were assiduous about their duties. There was a quite astonishing display of chrysanthemums, goldenrod, and Michaelmas daisies for so late in the year, as well as borders of pansies and violas. A gravel path edged by a low box hedge encircled a small lawn, in the center of which was a raised lily pond that was covered in ice. Beside the pool there was a little white-painted summerhouse. It was open in front, had a little bench inside, and was overhung by a gnarled apple tree, in which flourished the prodigious mistletoe Evangeline had mentioned the evening before.
Remembering how Rollo had appeared to be gazing at something in the distance, Megan looked in what she thought was the same direction. The only thing of note was a hilltop church with a countrified churchyard at the very edge of the town. Was that what the ghost had been looking at? Suddenly she remembered the quotation he'd used. "I have a good eye, Uncle: I can see a church by daylight." Yes, that was what he had been looking at.
A little later, dressed in her mustard gown, with her hair pinned up in a neat knot on top of her head, she went reluctantly down to take breakfast with Lady Evangeline, Rupert, and Greville. She was determined not to catch the eye of the latter, or speak to him unless spoken to first.
Chapter 10
The dining room was next to the drawing room on the Steine side of the house, and was decorated in gray and gold. It caught the full flush of the morning sun, and the warm air was scented with coffee, toast, and crisp bacon, as well as the bowl of roses that adorned the center of that same white-clothed table where the previous evening Megan had been so wretched. Edward, as supercilious and sour-faced as ever, was standing to attention by the sideboard, on which an array of silver-domed platters indicated a goodly selection. Outside, ladies and gentlemen of the ton paraded on the Steine's fine pathways, and several gleaming town carriages bowled around the perimeter roads. More carriages were drawn up in front of Donaldson's Circulating Library, and the sound of a German band playing Christmas carols could be heard from the front lawn of the Pavilion.
When Megan entered, she found everyone else already at the table. Rupert and Greville rose to their feet. They were both in pine-green coats and beige breeches, signifying an intention to ride after breakfast, and Evangeline was resplendent in a long-sleeved navy blue silk morning gown and lace day bonnet. She bestowed a gracious smile upon Megan.
"Good morning, my dear. I trust you slept well?"
"Good morning, Lady Evangeline. Sirs. Yes, I slept excellently," Megan replied, and was immediately conscious of Greville's raised eyebrow. But he said nothing.
Rupert hastened to draw out a chair for her, and as she sat down the door opened again. A maid came in with more bacon, and did not enter alone, for Rollo's spectral steps followed. The ghost crossed to the table, and halted right beside Megan. He was totally invisible again this morning, but the scent of orange blossom was heady, and she was sure that if she reached out she would be able to touch him. After all, if he could leave his imprint on carriage upholstery, surely he would be substantial enough to touch?
She heard him inhale deeply. " 'But, soft! Methinks I scent the morning air,' " he murmured, and she looked swiftly at the others to see if they heard, but only Evangeline seemed to have done so, for she tutted as she reached for the marmalade.
The maid went out again, and Evangeline smiled at Megan again. "What would you like to eat, my dear? I vow we have every breakfast item in creation."
"Oh, just some bacon and an egg," Megan replied, and as Edward brought them, she wondered if he would contrive to spill everything in her lap out of spite.
Rollo was evidently intent upon Evangeline, for suddenly he spoke to her. "What ho, my lady? Dost thou not think this to be a fine morning?"
"Enough, sir," she hissed, at which Rupert and Greville exchanged glances. Edward paused, a slice of crisp bacon impaled upon his serving fork, but then he went on with what he was doing.
Rollo sighed. " 'Fair is my love, and cruel as she's fair,' " he quoted.
"Sir, I will not have this at the breakfast table!" Evangeline whispered crossly.
" 'O tiger's heart wrapped in a woman's hide!' " But the phantom fell silent, and Evangeline began to talk about the Christmas decorations which Fosdyke and two footmen were at that very moment acquiring in the town.
Megan picked up her knife and fork, but then a slice of toast suddenly rose from the rack in front of her, and floated over to the window seat, where it was eaten with relish. Megan stared. Ghosts could eat! She glanced around the table again, but this time not even Evangeline appeared to have noticed.
Silence prevailed for some five minutes, but then Rupert glanced so sharply toward the window that Megan was sure he had suddenly perceived Rollo. But it was something else he had noticed. "Good Lord! That fellow's all in white!"
Everyone turned-even Rollo, Megan felt sure-and saw a gentleman clad from head to toe in white, riding by on a white horse. He was not new to Evangeline. "That is a busybody and tittle-tattler by the name of Mr. Mellish. He is a crony of the Garsingtons, and is always to be found at their wretched musical soirees, although I am convinced his purpose is solely to discover their latest foolishness. He spreads spiteful chitter-chatter to every drawing room into which he can worm his way, for he is the most unprincipled gossipmonger in Brighton. He thinks he cuts a dash to end all dashes with his penchant for white, but he is actually relatively restrained compared with Mr. Cope, who thankfully is no longer in Brighton," she declared, beckoning Edward to bring her some more bacon.