Page 12 of Ghost Broker (Mercury Raine #1)

A ventine Manor held nearly as many secrets as Mercury himself.

How many of those secrets had been uncovered by his ghosts, he didn’t know.

But only Baby, Zizzy, and Smythe knew where he’d come from and who he was.

His other seventeen Originaries knew they had once been attached to an orphan, but they didn’t know what name he used now.

And none of them had known how many attachments he had.

The moment he’d discovered none of them knew the total number, he’d seen his chance for freedom.

Of all the ghosts he’d traded attachments to, only one knew anything even approaching the entirety of what he kept hidden: The Scholar. And, in a bit of inarguable irony, one of the things kept hidden at Aventine Manor was…The Scholar.

Long after the house had descended into the quiet peacefulness of night, Mercury lit a tall candle and carried it in a sturdy silver candlestick.

He pushed open the trick bookshelf at the east end of the library and stepped through to the hidden winding stairs beyond.

The shelf slid back into place behind him as he climbed.

His home was quite literally swarming with ghosts who were all entirely capable of and more than willing to float through walls and ceilings, exploring to their wispy hearts’ content.

Yet, The Scholar had told him that none had ever discovered his attic room.

And he preferred it that way. The Scholar liked his peaceful nook.

He never left it and never seemed at all inclined to do so.

And Mercury had never heard him express any desire for the other ghosts to learn of his whereabouts or even his existence.

A preference for quiet isolation very much appeared to be one of The Scholar’s Integral Traits.

Mercury reached The Scholar’s door and lightly knocked.

“You’re always welcome, Mercury,” came the usual response in the usual Irish accent.

He stepped inside, knowing precisely what he would see: stacks of books and papers, a large, dust-covered desk with a cozy leather chair, and a ghost in the robes of academia with spectral spectacles resting on the tip of his pointed nose, “sitting” behind the desk.

“It’s been some time since we had a late-night meeting of the minds,” The Scholar said.

Mercury sat in the only other chair in the room, the one he always used during these visits. “Have you missed me?”

With a little smile acknowledging the quip, The Scholar asked, “What’s brought you up the stairs tonight?”

“I have a seemingly unanswerable quandary. As you are the wisest ghost I know, wiser than probably any person I’ve ever met, I think you might be the only one capable of helping me sort this out.”

“I do enjoy a challenging puzzle.” The Scholar took off his ghostly glasses and eyed Mercury with quizzical excitement.

“One of my favorite things about having you here.” Mercury set his candle on the desk. “This is a complicated situation, made more difficult by the fact that I am not in a position to tell you everything about it—some aspects are not my secrets to share. ”

The Scholar nodded ponderously. “Share what you are able.”

Mercury leaned back in his chair. “I have a new client and her mother here: Miss and Mrs. Huddleston. The mother is overbearing and, I’m beginning to suspect, harmfully controlling.

The daughter isn’t unwilling to make a swap, not even opposed to it.

She simply doesn’t want to do so with her mother present. ”

“Why not?” The Scholar asked.

“That is one of those things I’m not in a position to share with you.”

The Scholar nodded and motioned for him to continue.

“The mother will, without question, demand she continue with the trade and will demand to know why it doesn’t happen, if it doesn’t, or make her daughter miserable if they leave Aventine Manor without the new ghost she, herself, selected.”

“You think the daughter will hold to her refusal?”

“I do.” Mercury couldn’t imagine Miss Huddleston would reveal her Invisible attachment. No amount of browbeating was likely to convince her to spill that secret to a mother she had admitted she didn’t trust.

“You seem particularly concerned about her not undertaking the Transferal you anticipated. Your reasons are likely more than a concern about her mother rendering her miserable.”

“I have reason to want… need , really, her current attachment to stay at Aventine Manor.”

“And it isn’t that Miss Huddleston is opposed to ghost swaps on the whole?”

Mercury shook his head.

“And her ghost does not object.”

“You know me better than to believe I would attempt to force a ghost to agree to an exchange. ”

A slow, calm nod answered that reminder. “So the core difficulty is that Miss Huddleston won’t participate in a Transferal if her mother is present for the ceremony.”

“This would be Miss Huddleston’s first Transferal. Immediate family members of the same household have to be present. It can’t even be done otherwise.”

“Why doesn’t she want her mother there? Being overbearing doesn’t seem a reason to need her to be absent.”

“I cannot tell you that.”

His ghostly eyes narrowed. “Why do you need her ghost to remain?”

“I cannot tell you that either.” Can’t was probably not the correct word. That matter wasn’t Miss Huddleston’s secret; it was his. But keeping his origins and his fugitive status out of public knowledge was crucial. Only his three remaining Originaries knew who he had once been.

“How essential is it that this ghost remains at Aventine Manor?” The Scholar asked.

“Quite essential. Potentially life-altering.”

“Life- ruining ?” The Scholar pressed.

“Potentially.”

“Allow me to summarize: It is crucial for you that Miss Huddleston’s ghost remain. Her ghost cannot remain without being traded. This ghost cannot be traded without Mrs. Huddleston present. Miss Huddleston won’t undertake a Transferal if her mother is present. Thus, her ghost cannot remain.”

“An excellent summary of my very frustrating situation.”

“If all of those things are true—”

“They are.”

“And each part of that chain is intrinsically connected to the rest?”

Mercury nodded .

“If all the pieces of that puzzle are true and intrinsically connected to the rest, then one of the two of you will not get what you want.” The Scholar returned his spectacles to their place on his narrow nose.

“Either Miss Huddleston will be required to undertake a Transferal with her mother present, or you will not be able to have her ghost remain at Aventine Manor.”

Mercury stood, pacing the cluttered space as best he could manage. Granny’s arrival has changed things for you. If she doesn’t stay, the events she has unintentionally triggered will spiral and collapse on you.

“There has to be a third option,” he said tightly. “There has to be.”

“The only way to obtain a different outcome is to break the chain, Mercury Raine.”

“How do you know breaking it is even possible?” Mercury asked.

“How do you know it isn’t ?”

Mercury paced and pondered. Break the chain. Could it even be done? If so, where? How?

“Granny Grey—that’s Miss Huddleston’s ghost—cannot be more than five hundred feet from her so long as Granny is Miss Huddleston’s attachment.

That cannot be changed.” He turned, beginning another circuit of the studious attic space.

“A first Transferal has to be done with the approval and in the presence of all immediate family members living in the household of the one with the attachment. That also cannot be changed.”

“Could Miss Huddleston’s mind be changed about not wanting her mother present?”

“Absolutely not.” And Mercury couldn’t blame her.

“Then it is the mother that needs to be sorted,” The Scholar said. “Remove her from the equation, and the outcome changes.”

“She is an immediate family member— ”

“Something that cannot be changed,” The Scholar acknowledged.

“—in the same household,” Mercury finished. “That means she has to—” Oh.

Oh.

“If they don’t live in the same household,” Mercury said, thinking out loud, “then her mother is no longer part of the Transferal ceremony.”

The Scholar smiled kindly. “The weak link in the chain.”

“And my sought-for answer.” Mercury took up his candle. “The start of it, at least. An unmarried lady doesn’t have a lot of options in terms of her household. She cannot simply shrug and tell her mother she’s setting up house somewhere.”

“She could if she is getting married,” The Scholar said.

“Mrs. Huddleston does seem to want her daughter to make a match with Lord Garston.” Mercury shook his head. “But Miss Huddleston will refuse that just as adamantly as she will a Transferal with her mother present.”

“If you marry her,” The Scholar said, “Aventine Manor will be her home, and you will be her immediate family living in her household. Will that answer the difficulty with the Transferal?”

“Technically, yes. But it would create an entire slew of other troubles.” For one thing, he’d have to use his legal name for any wedding to be binding, and he wasn’t willing to reveal that.

For another, he had no desire to tie himself to a lady he didn’t love who didn’t love him.

For another, he suspected Miss Huddleston wouldn’t have him.

His respect for her only grew at the realization. “Marriage is not a viable solution.”

“Then your focus must be on her establishing a household free of her mother,” The Scholar said.

“Something nearly impossible for an unmarried lady of marriageable age. Any money she might have will be controlled by her mother or trustees, preventing her from accessing it in order to obtain lodgings.”

That was entirely true. “She would need a place to live for free, which is unlikely to happen. Few people have extra houses available to simply hand over to a friend.”

“You do.” The Scholar eyed him over his spectacles.

“Larissa Lodge,” Mercury Raine realized in a whoosh of breath. “But it is so closely tied to Aventine Manor. There is likely to be a scandal.”

“Closely tied, but part of . That is not an insignificant difference.” The Scholar leaned back in his chair.

“Society would not permit her to live alone, regardless.” Yet, Mercury felt he was quite close to the answer he was seeking. “There must be something I’m missing or not thinking of.”

“Most likely.” The Scholar bent over his book once more. “But you are at least closer to a solution.”

Mercury crossed to the door. He was unlikely to sleep that night. His mind would spin, attempting to find the bits and pieces that would make the idea a viable one.

“Bear in mind,” The Scholar said from his desk, “you do intend to ask her to make a monumental change in her life so that you can have a ghost that you desperately need for reasons you won’t disclose.

That, Mercury Raine, requires you to trust her .

And trust isn’t something you are precisely known for. ”