Page 3 of Ghost Broker (Mercury Raine #1)

A ventine Manor was never truly quiet. Mercury had learned as a child that having twenty ghostly attachments meant no space he occupied ever came close to silent. He didn’t mind.

Mercury had grown up in an overcrowded, understaffed orphanage.

He’d never been alone for reasons that had nothing to do with ghosts.

Yet, he’d been lonely. His ghosts had mingled with those attached to other orphans in the facility.

The orphanage governor had known Mercury possessed multiple attachments but had never been able to pin down precisely how many.

That, in the end, had been both a saving grace and a means of escape.

Orphans with ghosts were adopted more readily than those without.

They could provide additional cachet to any family who took them in.

An orphan with multiple attachments ought to have been snatched up the moment he’d been left on the doorstep.

But Mercury’s most troublesome ghosts had been the ones who kept near at hand, making would-be adopters nervous.

And when the governor had been forced to admit that he didn’t know which of the remaining ghosts would become part of the potential family’s household, every single interested party had quickly decided against taking the risk .

Saving grace and escape, indeed.

There was still no one, person or ghost, who knew how many attachments he had.

Mercury had learned at a very young age that ghosts could keep themselves a secret even from each other.

Avoiding interactions or not acknowledging to whom they were attached granted them some anonymity.

Mercury himself hadn’t known until he’d left the orphanage precisely how many or which of the ghosts there were his.

There had been no one there to explain to him how to make sense of it.

No one knew he was the boy who’d run from the orphanage at thirteen years old. No one knew he’d circumvented the very strict laws about orphans trading ghosts. No one knew how quickly everything he’d built could be taken away from him.

He thought on that as he pondered the Huddlestons and which of his ghosts they might, in the end, choose. Every new client both solidified his success and left him keenly aware of how precarious it was under the surface.

Mercury had gone over his ledgers and taken a leisurely stroll about the grounds of his grand home by the time he returned to the house to dress for dinner.

He liked to give clients, new and returning, a feeling of freedom at Aventine Manor.

He'd found early on in his work as a broker that even those who didn't feel any sort of connection to their ghostly attachments still found the process of swapping that ghost unexpectedly personal.

If he stood nearby while they interacted and discussed their impressions, then they were less likely to make a decision and far less likely to feel confident enough in that decision for the transfer to take.

The Huddleston ladies should have had ample time to feel at home and even meet a few of the ghosts. Still, he meant to keep his distance until dinner .

His path down one of the corridors took him past Vernon the Vain and Testy Tolver. Neither was looking at the other, nor speaking, but it was obvious they were incredibly aware of each other and that they weren't overly pleased by that awareness.

“Has Lord Garston made a decision?” he asked them.

“Never met a more indecisive gentleman,” Testy Tolver drawled, his wispy lip twitching in contempt.

“I don't know how he manages to feed himself with such an embarrassing inability to make choices.” Vernon the Vain opted for a highly arched eyebrow.

Both ghosts likely realized how very difficult they were rendering Lord Garston’s decision. He needed a judgmental ghost if he were to be at all fashionable this Season. These two took judgmental to entirely new levels.

Mercury had taken quite a gamble in acquiring them the year before, counting on his hunch that their Integral Traits would be all the rage this year. He’d been correct about that; he usually was.

“I’m certain you've heard,” Mercury said, “that we have newly arrived clients, also looking for a fashionable ghost for the Season. They may very well make a decision before he does.”

“Untitled clients,” Vernon the Vain said, switching which of his eyebrows was raised in disapproval. “They do seem to have money, though.”

“Money does not buy rank,” Testy Tolver declared. “And when it does, it hardly counts.”

At that, they both floated away, the very picture of judgment and disapproval.

He didn't mind them, but he wasn't going to overly miss them when they were traded away .

He continued on his way, his path taking him past one of the large doors leading into the library. It was open, and he could see and hear what was occurring.

Mrs. Huddleston and her daughter were seated near the fireplace. Near them were Gary the Green and Weeping William, another of the resident ghosts whose moniker was incredibly fitting.

“It's little wonder you were traded,” Mrs. Huddleston said to William. “Emotional ghosts are not really sought after this year.”

“I didn't overly like the household I was in anyway,” William said, sniffling, which was what he always did. “No doubt emotions will be in vogue again soon enough.”

“Perhaps.” Mrs. Huddleston's gaze shifted to Gary the Green. “How long have you been here? Were you recently traded? Have you been trying to get traded for some time?”

“I've been here just as long as I'd like to be and will continue to stay for as long as I choose. Unless, of course, an intriguing opportunity presents itself.”

Many of the ghosts spoke of trades and swaps this way: interesting, intriguing, a chance to explore and see and do.

And the vast majority of them didn't seem at all bothered by the constant trading.

Mercury had worried about that a lot as he was growing up.

He'd realized, even at a young age, that there were some ghosts who didn't want to be uprooted.

And while they couldn't be transferred entirely against their will, there likely had been some who'd agreed to trades they didn't actually want.

As if thoughts of the past and those early years of uncertainty had summoned her, Twisty Zizzy swooped up next to him.

Her worried gaze settled on the group at the fire inside the library.

Zizzy was one of his Originary ghosts, one of the three remaining who'd been with him from the very beginning .

“Are these ladies kind?” Zizzy asked.

“I don't know yet.”

“Are they rapid traders?”

“I don't think they know yet.”

Rapid traders were those who switched out ghosts at the minimum six-month intervals, constantly changing and swapping. He glanced at Zizzy, knowing what he'd see but wanting to make certain he wasn't mistaken. As predicted, she looked worried. It was one of her Integral Traits.

He'd realized very early on, long before he had even contemplated being a broker, that Zizzy did not care for the idea of being traded. She was, in fact, a little terrified of it.

“I promised you that I would never swap you.”

“I know.” She didn't sound reassured; she seldom did.

“How long have I made this my business?” Mercury asked.

“Twelve years.” Her response had the tone of an oft-repeated answer, and for good reason. They had this conversation on a shockingly regular basis.

“When I am acting as broker, ghosts have more than a mere voice in the matter; their wishes are always honored.”

“But if someone offered you a great deal of money or a ghost you really wanted—”

“Even if I found myself a penniless pauper living on the streets of London, trailed by an entourage of poverty-stricken ghosts that no one wanted to trade for, one of those ghosts would always be you. Until the day you tell me otherwise in tones of eager excitement, you will always be with me.”

“I couldn't imagine wanting to be with anyone else,” she said with a firm nod .

“And I would miss you if you left,” he said. “I can't say that about most of the ghosts who've been part of this horde.”

That brought a fond smile to her face. Zizzy was young, likely in her early teens, and sweet-natured.

Even when he had been younger than that, she'd felt like a little sister.

He'd always been extraordinarily protective of her.

Ghosts didn't age, so in reality, she had existed longer than fourteen years.

But the characteristics of the age they appeared to be filled the depths of who they were.

She would always be this uncertain child, afraid of being abandoned and forgotten.

And he would spend all the time necessary making certain she knew that wasn't going to happen.

“Oh, dear,” Zizzy said, her attention in the library once more.

Mercury's eyes shifted in that direction too.

Signora Bellona had just entered through the opposite wall as The Quiet Queen.

Those two ghosts did not always get along.

Only by threatening each of them with an underhanded swap that they would agree to and then regret—something he would never actually do, though he felt certain they didn't know that—had he negotiated something of a ceasefire between them.

Heaven help him if everything came to a loggerhead now.

Mrs. Huddleston rose, her mouth dropping into an amazed O. Her head turned from side to side, looking first at one newly arrived ghost, then at the other, then back again.

The Quiet Queen was unmistakably judgmental.

Mercury had no doubt he would gain quite a bit of money brokering her swap this Season.

And she was anxious to go, so her cooperation was all but guaranteed.

But until he saw the way Signora Bellona quickly evaluated Mrs. Huddleston, he'd not realized how judgmental she came across.

Very interesting.

“Oh, now we are getting somewhere,” Mrs. Huddleston exclaimed .

The Quiet Queen and Signora Bellona both wrinkled their noses and twisted their mouths, nearly identical looks of disapproval. This might prove the fastest decision and transfer Mercury had ever brokered. It would be a helpful thing, as first swaps were usually the most time-consuming.

Mrs. Huddleston's ghost hovered in a corner of the room, watching the whole thing with a look that, once again, could only be described as overwhelmed.

Miss Huddleston proved most surprising of all. She was not watching her mother or the two ghosts who had captured her mother's attention. Neither did she seem overly interested in Gary the Green or Weeping William.

Her gaze was on Mercury .