“Oh, my Lord.”
“I don’t know why, but I feel as though everything is connected to the stories. Will you still come with me?” he asked.
She nodded. “The Fitzgeralds always hold a ball on the longest night of the year. Perhaps the previous owners did too, and that’s how the tradition started! If the old legend is true, that all the ghosts return on midnight…what better chance do we have?”
“Let’s go, then.” Taking her hand in his, he led her to the ballroom in the deserted old wing of the castle. No lanterns or candles were lit here, of course, so they were guided mostly by moon and starlight filtering through the mullioned windows.
“Is it midnight yet?”
Camellia said, “I don’t know. I’ve heard no bells.”
“How do you feel?”
“Excited.”
“Not scared?” he asked.
Camellia smiled. “Not with you here.”
They reached the ballroom and entered through the massive double doors. They saw nothing strange, but the air was filled with a sense of magic. Finn did not let go of Camellia’s hand, for which she was profoundly grateful.
“Do you see anything, Camellia?” he asked.
“Hush!” She stared at the stone floor. Something was happening there. Tendrils of silver mist floated in, as if pushed by the snow outside. But it wasn’t snow. Lia watched as shapes slowly formed, all wrought in the pale tones of a winter frost. A scene from a previous time was sketched out before her astonished eyes. Not just the setting, but the shapes of lords in velvet jackets and ladies in gowns like great bells, but all white and silver and misty Grey. Camellia want to cry with the beauty of it.
“Do you see it, Finn?”
“Can you hear the music?” he asked in a low voice, the question buzzing in her ear. She did hear it then…harp and horns and a high voice singing a carol from long ago. The ghostly ball was taking place after all, just as it must have been for hundreds of holiday seasons, unseen by the living.
They crept closer. Finn kept looking for the Silver Lady, but didn’t see any ghost like the one from the other night.
One of the silvery figures, a man in a fancy, heavily embroidered frock coat, breeches, and buckled shoes, turned toward them and paused. Could he see Camellia and Finn, even through the decades? Evidently he could, because he strode toward them.
The ghost bowed low to Camellia in a courtly gesture, and she surprised herself when she put her hand to her heart. With a smile and an outstretched hand, he invited her to join him in a dance.
Possessed by a strange desire, Lia accepted.
Chapter 15
Before Finn could stop her, Camellia put her hand in the ghost’s. Helplessly, he watched as she joined a formal but spritely dance that she could not possibly know the steps to. Yet she moved as gracefully as if she had been practicing for years.
Finn felt ice down his spine as he realized that Camellia’s dark forest green evening dress with its modern lines had been replaced with an old-fashioned silver ball gown, her wide skirts flowing out around her. Finn swallowed when he looked at Lia’s spellbound expression. Another face seemed to hover over her own. He finally understood why he hadn’t seen the Silver Lady earlier.
The ghosts of Wyemont were very close, after all. Camellia and the Silver Lady had become one.
A very odd feeling descended on Finn then, as if he were drifting away from his own body. But then a sense of urgency took over. His beloved needed him. Desperate to stay close to her, Finn sprang up to join the dance as well. He couldn’t wait for an invitation, but then, he was a man and didn’t have to. As he walked toward the dance, a weird calm settled over him. He forgot the oddity of what he was doing, and instead focused on his beloved, dressed in white. She was meant to be his, and he had to win her, no matter who stood in his way.
“Ryder? Is that you?” a new voice called. Finn blinked, looking over at the sound as he came back to himself for a moment. He was Phineas Ryder, and he knew that voice…
Yes, it was Elliot Townsend. His friend stood near the doorway, looking utterly confused. “I say, what’s going on? Have you seen”—his voice suddenly changed as he focused on the vision he beheld—“my lady!”
Elliot stared at the lovely woman in the silver dress, though whether he saw Camellia or the Silver Lady, or both, Finn couldn’t tell. “There she is!”
Camellia didn’t appear to hear this exchange, lost in the swirling, elegant dance.
“My lady!” Elliot called again. His voice was clear, noble…not the shy tone he typically used. “I will have the next dance.”
Camellia heard the words, but barely glanced their way. “My card is full, sir,” she said in an aloof tone.
