Page 11 of Ghost Broker (Mercury Raine #1)

M ercury didn’t join his guests for dinner that evening, which was unusual for him even on Transferal days.

He always pushed through any lingering exhaustion for the sake of keeping his clients happy enough to return for future swaps.

But that day he had more to worry about than whether Lord Garston was required to take his after-dinner port alone.

Miss Huddleston didn’t mean to allow a swap. Granny Grey, then, wouldn't be staying. Mercury needed a plan, and for the first time in more years than he could recall, he couldn’t come up with one. In fact, he gave up trying and made his way to the drawing room not long after the others.

He dipped his head to all of his guests as he stepped inside. “My apologies for being absent during dinner. I trust your meal was to your liking.”

Mrs. Huddleston beamed at him. “Every meal at Aventine Manor has been delicious. Best not let word of this reach London or someone will attempt to steal your chef. ”

Mercury held back a grin. Should anyone attempt to do so, he wished them a great deal of luck. The situation was far more…interesting than most would guess.

Mrs. Huddleston, Lord Garston, Weeping William, and Miss Huddleston sat at a table engaged in a game of whist. He’d been told by clients that specters who could manipulate physical things often participated in card games at Society gatherings.

There were, however, rules against ghosts doing so at gambling dens.

“Pearl has wandered off,” Lord Garston said as he studied his cards. “I assumed that means the Transferal is complete.”

“It is.” Mercury sat on a sofa that faced the table. Baby was sleeping atop it, his usual approach to evenings.

“Excellent,” Mrs. Huddleston said. “You and Vernon will cut quite a dash this Season, Lord Garston.”

“I will make note of anyone who doesn’t recognize as much.” Vernon sniffed in palatable disapproval.

“I hope you aren’t leaving too soon,” Mrs. Huddleston said. “We're having such a lovely time.”

“I know this is your very first ghost exchange,” Lord Garston said. “I would not abandon you when you are undertaking something so new. I will happily remain at Aventine Manor to offer my support and encouragement.”

Years of practice enabled Mercury to hide the twinge of annoyance he felt. But if there was any chance Lord Garston’s presence would help encourage a swap to actually occur, he welcomed the assistance.

Granny Grey had to stay.

“Perhaps we might travel together to London afterward,” Mrs. Huddleston said .

“Does this mean you've chosen your new ghost?” Lord Garston asked.

Through it all, Miss Huddleston's eyes darted from her mother to Lord Garston and back again, over and over.

“Signora Bellona will be absolutely perfect,” Mrs. Huddleston said. “And, dare I say, she and Vernon the Vain would make quite an impression arriving at Society gatherings together.”

Again, Mrs. Huddleston proved she'd not ever learned the meaning of, let alone the value of, subtlety.

“Oh, what a picture they would make.” Lord Garston warmed immediately to the idea.

Miss Huddleston, however, did not. “Mother, we haven't discussed this.”

Mrs. Huddleston waved that off. “It is the perfect choice. She is beautiful and elegant—”

“Yes, I am,” the Signora said. “There are many who think they are, but are decidedly lacking in such things.”

Mrs. Huddleston’s excitement only grew. “And she is so fashionably judgmental.”

“I don't know that I want a fashionable ghost,” Miss Huddleston said.

Mercury knew that what she actually didn't want was for her mother to learn a few things that a Transferal would reveal. The shocked silence that followed Miss Huddleston's declaration would likely only have been more pointed if she had revealed her true reason for not wanting to move forward.

The ghosts in the room reacted in the expected way. Some looked worried, others amused. There were tears. Disapproval. Baby kept sleeping .

Through tight lips, Mrs. Huddleston said, “We have a chance to obtain such an impressive one. Surely you must be excited at an opportunity few are afforded.”

“We have not felt the need to have a fashionable ghost in the past,” Miss Huddleston said.

Clearly frustrated, her mother muttered, “You weren't twenty-five in the past.”

A quick glance at Granny Grey revealed her usual worry. Weeping William was predictably weeping. Gary the Green looked thoroughly annoyed. Captain Capitate had popped his head off again. There’d be chaos soon enough.

“A Transferal isn’t possible if the one with the attachment doesn't want to make the swap,” he said. “Even if an attempt is made, it won’t take effect.”

Miss Huddleston and Granny Grey flashed him nearly identical looks of alarm and warning. For her part, Miss Huddleston actually looked a little angry.

Though it had not been his intention, it seemed he had made the situation worse. He didn't often misjudge interactions with people or specters. Granny Grey, Pearl, and Miss Huddleston had him entirely upended.

With the stiff dignity of a statue, Mrs. Huddleston rose, necessitating that Mercury and Lord Garston stand as well.

“I would like to have a word with my daughter.” Her voice turned a little more dulcet, and her expression a little more pleasant when she looked at Lord Garston.

“I hope you will forgive me for disrupting our game.” She looked over at Mercury, and her expression hardened a little again.

“And I hope you will forgive me for asking you to leave your own drawing room when you have only just arrived. ”

He dipped his head before walking with unhurried but not noticeably dragging steps from the room. Lord Garston continued down the corridor with Vernon, the two of them discussing people they would likely see and places they would likely visit during the Season.

Granny Grey was hovering near Mercury in the corridor, which gave him a chance to speak with her.

“I hadn't intended to add fuel to the fire,” he said.

Granny Grey shook her head. “What you said was, in almost every other circumstance, perfectly reasonable and acceptable. Mrs. Huddleston tends to be short on patience when her back has been put up. She'll browbeat her daughter. It is her usual approach.”

That was what Mercury was concerned about.

“I cannot, in good conscience, facilitate a Transferal someone has been pressured into.

What I said was true: it cannot be completed if either of the people involved is not in favor of it.

But a person can be coerced, can have their arm twisted enough that they accept it.

There are unscrupulous brokers who will take advantage of that, but I don't care to be one of them.”

“I believe you,” Granny Grey said.

“But I don't know the Huddlestons well enough to necessarily be able to recognize the difference between Miss Huddleston genuinely deciding she wants to move forward and Mrs. Huddleston forcing the matter.”

Though Granny Grey's posture never was truly stooped, something in it grew more firm and steady. “Miss Huddleston has backbone.”

“I want you to stay at Aventine,” he told Granny Grey. “But I don’t want Miss Huddleston to agree to such a thing only because she wants to keep the peace.” Granny Grey might not know about Miss Huddleston’s Invisible. He didn't wish to reveal a secret that wasn't his to tell .

“Living with her mother has taught her the benefit of ‘keeping the peace,’ as you put it. But I don’t think her hand will be forced in this.”

“Which puts us in a difficult situation,” he said. “I suspect you know why I am anxious for you to remain here.”

Granny Grey nodded. “And I would like to stay, but there’s only one way for that to be accomplished.”

“Is there any chance you would tell me what you hinted at if you didn’t stay here?”

She didn’t answer out loud, but the enormous hesitancy that entered her expression told him he would not hear even another syllable of what she’d hinted at without her residence switching to his home.

In the very next moment, Mrs. Huddleston swept past him, all offended dignity, but also worryingly pleased with herself. Signora Bellona floated alongside her, their expressions very nearly identical.

Mercury met the eye of Aventine Manor’s operatic torturer. He lifted a brow in inquiry.

The Signora sniffed. “She's a stubborn girl. I like that.”

Stubborn. That likely meant Miss Huddleston hadn't bowed to her mother’s pressure. At least not yet.

Mercury returned to the drawing room. Baby had awoken and was sitting on the sofa, looking concerned.

“Don't fret,” he told the poor little sprite. “All will be well. You need to rest.” Someday he would solve the mystery of why this ghost slept when he'd never met or heard of any others who did.

He turned back to Miss Huddleston, doing a quick assessment. She looked a little weary but not defeated.

“She didn't convince you?” Mercury asked.

“Refusing is far too crucial.” She offered no more explanation, no doubt because of the other ghosts present. Her secret was too dangerous; he understood that. “But she will grow more forceful and make things more miserable. I don't know what to do.”

“Keep refusing, I suppose.”

“It isn’t that simple,” she said. “I am an unmarried woman. The very fabric of Society requires those in my position to be dependent on others. For that reason, I am dependent on my mother. I have nowhere to go other than her home, no one I can rely on but her. And she has a voice and, to a degree, a vote in the Transferal of my attachment, and I can’t escape that. "

“I learned a few lessons as a child,” Mercury said, “most of them unpleasant.” He could feel Granny Grey's gaze on him as he made that admission. He didn’t dare look at her.

There were so many questions he wanted to ask that he could not yet have answers to.

Worse than that, he suspected he didn't necessarily want them all.

“One thing I learned was that the solutions to the most complicated problems are usually the ones most worth finding. "

“They also are often the hardest to discover,” she pointed out.

“Would it be worth finding an answer to this one?” he asked her.

She nodded without hesitation, without flinching, without looking beaten down. She was in a difficult situation, and she acknowledged it. But, as Granny Grey had so aptly pointed out, she had a backbone. She was most certainly going to need it. They both were.