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“Unfortunately true.” And that, Hope decided, was all she could discreetly say about that. “Still, I’m sorry your night was disturbed.”
“It’s all right. Excitement’s always a plus. And Jake and I weren’t asleep yet.” She smiled, sipped. “We were just getting there. So, Hope.” She slid onto a stool. “Tell me about the ghost.”
“I—” Hope broke off when Jake strolled in.
“The other women have Lola in The Library. Austin’s having some whiskey with Bob out on the porch. I think she’s calming down some.”
“Hopefully some tea will finish the job.”
“Hope was about to tell me about the ghost.”
“Yeah?” He took his wife’s wineglass, had a swallow. “What’s her deal?”
“Jake’s all about ghosts,” Casey explained. “Whenever we can get away, we always look for an interesting old hotel or B&B—with potential. Like this one.”
“We were out on the porch a couple hours ago,” Jake said. “I thought I saw her. Young, in period dress. Maybe nineteenth-century. Just a flash, you know. Like—” He snapped his fingers. “And the air smelled sweet.”
“I didn’t see her, but he’s right about the scent. Sweet and pretty.”
“Busy night,” Hope murmured, and heated one of her little teapots with hot water.
“She wasn’t threatening or scary. But I guess if you’re not into it, and you get woken up by a ghost, screaming’s a viable option.”
“Come on.” Casey took her wine back. “She screamed like somebody’s mutt chewed the heel of her Jimmy Choos. She screamed so loud she woke up Bob and Connie, and they’re out in that room off the back porch.”
“If she hadn’t, we’d have missed Bob’s Mickey Mouse underwear. That was a perk. Okay,” Jake said as Hope poured him his own glass of wine. “What do you know about her? You must know something. You live with her.”
Maybe it was the hour, or the easy company after a shocking strain, but Hope found herself telling them. “Her name’s Eliza Ford. She came here from New York, and died here in September of 1862. It was honeysuckle you smelled. She favors it.”
“That’s it! I couldn’t place it.” Jake grinned at her. “Honeysuckle. This is too cool.”
“How did she die?” Casey asked.
“A fever. She was young, and from a wealthy family. She came here to meet or find someone named Billy. She’s still waiting for him.”
“That’s so sad, and romantic. How do you know about this Billy?”
“She told us,” Hope said simply, and finished making the tea. “She’s loyal, funny, and yes, romantic—and completely benign. She also happens to be one of my ancestors.”
“You’re kidding!” Casey gaped. “Seriously?”
“Cooler and cooler.”
“That’s about all I can tell you. I need to get this tea to Mrs. Redman.”
“Here, let me carry that for you.” Jake took the tray she’d filled. “Eliza should’ve come to our room. We wouldn’t have screamed the house down.”
“I don’t think Mrs. Redman would be as entertained.” And, Hope thought, as they walked upstairs, she didn’t think Lizzy had meant to be entertaining.
It was nearly three thirty before Hope had the inn quiet again, and her guests settled down. The whiskey in the tea—Austin had added a generous portion himself—did the trick. When Jake and Casey offered to switch rooms, he’d gratefully led a half-asleep Lola into Titania and Oberon.
Back in her own apartment, Hope let out a long, long sigh.
“Lizzy, what were you thinking?” On a jaw-cracking yawn, she shuffled her way back to her bedroom. “Oh, I know what you were thinking. The woman’s rude, demanding, ungrateful, and an all-around pain in the ass. You scared her on purpose, a little occult payback.”
She put her phone back on the charger, set her alarm as a precaution before she slid back into bed. “It worked. We may have gotten her back to bed, with the help of a couple shots of Irish, but no way her husband’s going to talk her out of leaving tomorrow, a day early. I don’t think he wants to—he’s had it. Me, too. So I’ll adjust their bill and say good-bye to them tomorrow. I don’t think they’ll be back.”
As she reached over to turn off the light, Hope’s hand froze.
Lizzy didn’t shimmer into existence or ease into form like a photograph in a chemical bath. She was simply just there, her blond hair caught tidily back at the nape, her gray—no blue, blue dress, softly belled. Her lips curved in a smile full of fun.
“Good riddance,” she said.
“You’re here,” Hope managed.
“I don’t know how to be anywhere else. But I like it here, especially now that you are.”
“You have to tell me more, so I can find him for you, find Billy for you. We all want to find him for you.”
“It fades.” Lizzy lifted her hands, turned them. Hope saw them go in and out of focus. “I fade. But the love stays. You can find the love. You’re my Hope.”
“His name. The rest of his name.”
“Ryder. Did he come?”
“He was here earlier. He’ll come back. Tell me Billy’s full name.”
“He was here.” She crossed her hands over her heart. “Close, but too far. I was ill, and it fades, like an old letter. Rest now.”
“Eliza—” But she was gone in that same finger-snap. Hope tossed back the sheets. While it was fresh, she wrote down everything in that brief, surreal conversation.
Never sleep now, she thought, and lay in the dark, watching in case Lizzy reappeared. But the minute she shut her eyes, she dropped away.
SHE DIDN’T EXACTLY crawl out of bed, but it was close to it. She revved her shower on full and hot, then gritting her teeth finished it off with a blast of cold, hoping to wake up both brain and body.
One look at her face had her moaning. The day called for a whole bunch of concealer.
By the time she made it to the kitchen, Carolee was already there, humming away as she mixed waffle batter.
“Sorry. Little late.”
“No, you’re not. Have some coffee, and tell me how it went last night.”
“Oh boy, have I got an earful for you.”
“I knew that woman was trouble.”
“That’s not the half of it.” She poured coffee, made herself drink the first cup black. She began to arrange the fruit she’d sliced fresh the night before as she filled Carolee in on the details.
She got a lot of Oh my Gods, You’re kiddings, I can’t believe its, but finished the entire tale by the time they’d prep
ared the fruit, bacon, juices, cereals.
“You must be exhausted!”
“It wouldn’t be so bad, but this group’s full of night owls.”
“Didn’t Justine make it clear that just because a guest wants to stay up half the night, you don’t have to?”
“I know, but I can’t settle down until they do. I’ll work on it.”
“As soon as we get breakfast done, you’re going up to take a nap.”
“Let’s see how it goes. In any case, we’re down to seven rooms tonight.”
“Good riddance,” Carolee muttered, and made Hope smile.
“That’s what she said. Lizzy.”
“It’s so exciting.” Carolee’s bright hazel eyes danced. “She talked to you. I knew she would sooner or later. And if she’d let me, I’d give her a high five for chasing that woman out of here today.”
“We’re going to get a lot of rude or high-maintenance guests in the mix. It’s part of the hospitality package. But I can’t be sorry, either.”
“Sit down, have more coffee. I’ll get the tables set.”
“It’s done. I had plenty of time last night. Why don’t you fill the coffee urn? I’ll do the eggs.”
Hope liked the rhythm and routine she and Carolee worked out when they had a full house. And the snatches of conversation they managed between carrying out food, greeting guests for the day.
Despite the late night, several woke early and hungry.
She topped off Lola Redman’s coffee herself on a pass through The Dining Room. “How are you feeling?”
“I’m fine, thank you.”
She spoke stiffly, but Hope detected more embarrassment than rudeness.
She checked chafing dishes, refilled, brought out refreshed pitchers of juice, chatted with Connie about the best antiquing prospects in the area, and with Mike and his wife about their planned drive to Cunningham Falls.
She gave all her guests high marks for steering talk away from the night’s disturbance, and imagined they all discussed it in detail outside of Lola’s hearing.
While some guests lingered over coffee and conversation and others went up to gather what they needed for the day’s adventures, Hope sat down to generate the Redmans’ bill.
Austin tapped on her open office door. “I’m loading up,” he told her. “Your key.”
“Thank you. I’m so sorry your stay wasn’t as pleasant as you’d hoped.”
