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Then he noticed that her nightgown dipped, revealing a good eyeful of milky cleavage.
Admittedly, he stared at that for a few seconds longer than he should have. He ought not to have stared at all. But he was a man, and... God help him, she was going to murder him.
It’snotmy fault!his thoughts spat as he sped from the mattress and grabbed yesterday’s trousers, pulling them on with impressive speed. He’d determined to sneak away and alert Beth, haveherwake Hulda,when he turned and saw the portrait from the reception hall was standing upright on the carpet, watching him with an impish smile.
Merritt shrieked. Hulda bolted upright. It took only a few heartbeats for her to shriek as well.
“Where am I?” Her accusing eyes landed on him as she snatched the blanket and shielded herself.
Trying to tamp down his flustered nerves, Merritt managed, “It would seem the house decided two bedrooms should be one during the night.” Then, in self-defense, “I only just discovered it myself.”
Admittedly, it was fascinating to watch Hulda’s face darken to the redness of a high-summer rose.
He backed away. “I’ll... get Miss Taylor.” He nearly knocked over the portrait in his haste to escape, unsure if the ensuing sound of mortification was from the door hinges or Hulda’s mouth.
Might be better for the both of them if he didn’t find out.
Suddenly Mr.Culdwell back in New York did not seem as bad a landlord as Merritt had always thought him.Hehad never rearranged his things—his furniture, his windows, hiswalls—while he slept. Lord knew he’d had enough of magic to last him the rest of his life.
All the more reason to get on with the exorcism.He buttered a piece of toast. Baptiste had already eaten—he made it a habit to eat before anyone else did, but that might be due to the fact that he woke up before anyone else, including Hulda, who kept a schedule so rigid even the military would be impressed.
Her schedule was, understandably, not so rigid today. She came to breakfast late, her shoulders stiff and her nose high, a folder of papers in her hands.
Merritt perked up. “Do tell me you’ve discovered who our wizard is.”
Pulling out a chair, Hulda sat. “I’m afraid not, Mr.Fernsby. I’ve only just started sorting through them. Though you’ll be pleased to know the house is fixing its second floor.”
A snap of wood upstairs punctuated the statement.
The slightest flush could be discerned under Hulda’s eyes. Merritt determined he would say nothing more on the matter other than “Thank you,” as he assumed it was Hulda’s expertise that had convinced this wretched house to put itself back into order.
Setting down his half-eaten toast, he said, “Remind me why a wizard inhabits a house.”
“Usually two reasons,” she answered without glancing up, pulling out papers from the file. “They’ve been tethered to it somehow, or their life purpose was unfulfilled in some important way. But a person must have significant magical ability to move their spirit into an inanimate body. Not just anyone can do it, which is why it’s becoming a less common phenomenon.”
“Couldyoudo it?”
She glanced his way. There were flecks of green in her eyes. “No. And I wouldn’t want to, besides.”
“But what if you knew you were doomed for hell?”
She sighed like a tired nanny. “Really, Mr.Fernsby.”
He shrugged. “Just saying.” Leaning forward, he looked over his census notes and reached for a paper with dates in the seventeen hundreds. “So if we need a magic fellow, it’s likely to be someone further back, before magic diluted.”
She peered at his page. “Possibly, but not necessarily. Magic usually subtracts, but with the right parentage—”
“It adds,” he finished.
She nodded. “May I?”
He handed the paper to her. She scanned it. “I wish they included more information. But I suppose we weren’t a real country yet.”
Something like the shattering of glass, but in reverse, echoed from upstairs, making him wonder whether Beth had gotten downstairs before the house’s realignment. Just how slowly had the house shifted in the night, so as not to wake anyone?Sneaky.
“Does the body... have to be close?” He rubbed gooseflesh from his arms. “The wizard’s, I mean. Does his body have to beinthe thing he inhabits?”
“Notinit, but one can hardly travel far as a spirit. The wizard would have had to be quite close. On the island itself, I’d say.”
