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“What, then?”
“There’s always Glasgow. With me. Managing the warehouse.”
“Ihavework.”
Nigel fell silent.
Charles felt that was wise. Even if what he was suggesting was true, it was far too complex for the orderly, calm way in which he tried to live his life. He desired Miss Doyle but, for now, he needed to make sure she did not come to harm.
After going toUllinn House on his own for a quick look at whether what Miss Doyle had said about it being sound was true, Charles found himself there for over two hours. The day became dark before he realized how much time had passed.
She appeared to be right. There would still be the matter of finding people to help him make it ready for three people to stay, even briefly. As he went from room to room, he found much was intact and present. It was all simply dusty and needed a good airing.
The more he considered it, the more he thought staying with Mr. Lester would be the far better option.
He was about to enter his father’s library when the sound of boots in the corridor below caught his attention.
The hairs on the back of his neck prickled. He was proud that he’d even entered the house alone, given that it stilllookedhaunted and he could not shake the sense that it held secrets. His brief time in the kitchen had been a prelude to the weight that seemed to drape over him the further he explored.
He had been correct. It was not a very big house. What it had in abundance was aura.
Or ghosts.
Charles waited as the boots came up the stairs.
It was Mr. Lester’s face, not a ghost’s, that appeared in the doorway.
