Page 6 of Ghost Broker (Mercury Raine #1)

M ercury never fell back asleep. There were ghosts who knew something about who he was, and he didn't know the full extent of what that meant. If they knew only that he was an orphan who’d run out on his obligation, they could sink him.

If they knew who he actually was, something he didn’t know, they could save him.

He had to proceed with caution. Fortunately, he also knew to proceed with patience.

Lord Garston had seemed, as recently as the morning before, to be within a few hours of making his ghostly decision.

Suddenly, he was entirely indecisive. Whether that was the result of Mrs. Huddleston pointing out the judgmental nature of The Quiet Queen and Signora Bellona, or the fact that Miss Huddleston was pretty and her mother clearly interested in making them a match, Mercury couldn’t say.

Regardless of the reason, Mercury had little choice but to wait.

He hadn't enough history with the Huddlestons to know quite how to proceed with them, which meant proceeding with cautious enthusiasm.

He arranged for a very pleasant game of lawn billiards the next day.

It was a tactic he had often used. The grounds were beautiful and pleasant.

The back lawn offered a lovely view of both this estate and Larissa Lodge, a quaint house that had once served as the dower house for Aventine Manor.

The environs helped people feel very pleased with their decision to seek out his brokerage services.

And using those gorgeous grounds for a lighthearted diversion was doubly helpful.

One could learn a lot by watching a person play a game of little importance or skill. Most grow a bit less inhibited, relaxing and focusing on the bit of fun. They tended to reveal more of who they were because their guard was down.

Maybe when these unidentified ghosts who were looking for him finally found him, he ought to wrangle them into a very ghostly game of lawn billiards.

Some ghosts could manipulate physical items, so there was even a chance the game could be played.

He wanted to believe such an easy solution would work, but instinct told him the matter would be far more complicated.

“Excellently well played, Lord Garston,” Mrs. Huddleston said after the young lord made a rather pathetic tap of the ball in the general direction he ought to have. Lord Garston puffed up immediately.

“I don't know which is more embarrassing,” Vernon the Vain drawled, “her toadying or his lack of self-awareness.”

Mercury quickly eyed the subjects of Vernon's evaluation. It was an insult, so they might very well feel offended. But it was also a moment of biting judgment, which was precisely what they both were looking for.

Lord Garston didn't seem to quite know how to respond. Mrs. Huddleston saved him the trouble.

“I can see why it is you are considering that particular swap,” she said with enthusiasm. “How delightfully judgmental he is.”

Lord Garston tipped his chin high and thrust his chest out. “I do have excellent judgment when it comes to ghosts. ”

If only Lord Garston knew how much the success of his repeated ghostly trades was owed to the fact that Mercury worked very hard to point him in the direction of choices that would work out well for all involved.

Still, he had taken Lord Garston's measure long ago and knew the man was far more likely to be cooperative and pleased when he thought he was the resident genius.

Mrs. Huddleston whacked her mallet against a ball, sending it much closer to the target than her lordly co-competitor. To his credit, Lord Garston applauded and cheered her despite her ability laying bare how poorly his hit was.

“What an utterly tedious game.” Signora Bellona sniffed loudly. “What would be far better—”

“No arias,” Mercury said firmly, pointing at her in warning. The Huddlestons hadn’t yet had enough time to decide if she was to their liking, and an impromptu off-key performance might put them off before they became enamored enough of her dismissiveness to be willing to endure her “talents.”

The Signora's nostrils flared in absolutely unmistakable judginess. And that caught Mrs. Huddleston's attention.

Weeping William used his ghostly arms to rather expertly take his turn, he being one of those ghosts with the ability to move objects. Testy Tolver evaluated William’s efforts with one muttered word of evaluation. “Acceptable.”

That set William to weeping, which would have happened regardless.

Through it all, Miss Huddleston continued to prove an enigma.

She didn't seem to not enjoy herself, but she wasn't openly enamored with the undertaking.

While she clearly found it intriguing that his ghosts could manipulate physical things—something he didn't think Granny Grey could do—she wasn't overawed by it.

She didn't show herself to be competitive nor upset if a turn did not go her way, but neither did she engage in a great deal of cheering and excitement on behalf of others who were participating.

What he had yet to discover was whether she was usually so unreadable or if she was hiding her true self. And if she was, why?

Still, the fact that she wasn't immediately pulled into the competition told him she was unlikely to be one whose quest for the latest and most fashionable of ghosts would lead to problematic frustration if her choice didn't prove as beneficial as she hoped.

That took some of the pressure off. It also meant that she likely would make a pleasant companion for whichever ghost was chosen, even if that companionship did not last beyond the minimum six months. That also set his mind at ease.

He had swapped ghosts to people who were likely to be grumbly or snippy or even unkind.

But he only ever did so if the ghosts in question understood the situation they were getting themselves into, would not be made entirely miserable by it, and were absolutely in favor of the switch. Even then, he always worried a little.

He didn't fully understand how much ghosts felt or how they experienced their version of the world.

He didn't know if their emotions were the same as people’s or if their feelings functioned similarly.

All he had to go by was his very human version of life.

He'd chosen to treat them as if they were identical, deciding that was a better approach than dismissing entirely the possibility that they could be made miserable and not doing anything to avoid it.

They are looking for you. Heaven help him if the ghosts Granny Grey spoke of cared little about his potential misery.

They knew things, and he had to discover what.

If she stayed at Aventine Manor, he would have time enough to begin piecing together that mystery.

And if the Huddlestons made a transfer, Granny would be staying .

He simply had to facilitate that.

Mercury wandered a bit and stood beside Lord Garston.

“I must add my compliments to those Mrs. Huddleston has already offered,” Mercury said.

“The two ghosts you are debating between are, without question, more than judgmental enough to be quite fashionable this Season.

More than that, though, I can say they'll be a good fit for you. Not because they are judgmental, mind you. I am not attempting to cast such aspersions.”

Lord Garston smiled, a sincere expression of understanding. They'd worked together quite often and, if nothing else, the young lord knew Mercury was not inclined to insult people.

“Neither would seem out of place at any of your family's most prestigious gatherings. It's well-spotted of you.” Mercury knew to leave it at that.

Lord Garston was best approached in spurts. He would offer a little compliment or a little nudge in one direction or another, and then slip away while his lordship pondered what Mercury had said.

As he stepped away this time, his path took him near Miss Huddleston.

They'd not exchanged more than five words since she and her mother had arrived the day before.

Yet, he somehow felt they had interacted a great deal.

Perhaps it was because he was constantly studying her.

Perhaps it was because nearly every time he looked in her direction, she was looking in his.

“Have you had a chance to meet our ghosts?” Mercury asked.

“Quite a few,” she said. “Though I don’t know how many you actually have.”

He didn’t answer the implied question.

She didn’t imply it again .

“I met Pearl in London,” she said. “I understand she resided at Aventine Manor before transferring to Lord Garston.”

“That’s true.”

“Do you see any of the ghosts again after they have swapped to someone else?” she asked.

“Only if they return with their current attachment, whoever that might be.”

“Do you ever leave Aventine Manor?”

He shook his head. “I've not had any desire to. Nor any need.”

“But if you were to go to London or Bath or some other place like that, you might see some of the ghosts who had been your attachments before?”

“I likely would.” It was a line of questioning no other client had pursued, the second time in as many days she’d asked such insightful and unique questions.

He would have pursued the topic if not for the sudden arrival of Baby Blue. The tiny ghost wore a deeply distressed expression.

“What's happened?” Mercury asked.

“The Captain is teasing me again. I don't like when he teases me, but he keeps doing it.”

“You know that one of his Integral Traits is a tendency toward tomfoolery.”

“That doesn't mean he should be allowed to tease me.”

Mercury hunched down a little, looking directly into that sweet little ghostly face. “You are, of course, correct. Let's go talk with him.”

“I don't want to see it,” Baby Blue said in an even quieter voice.

Mercury nodded slowly, knowing immediately the particular direction the Captain’s teasing had taken .

He stood and offered Miss Huddleston a very brief but not insulting bow.

He began walking off the field, but Lord Garston called out to him. “You cannot abandon the game before it has reached its conclusion.”

“One must question his sportsmanship,” Testy Tolver said with a sniff.

“Not at all.” Mercury was too well acquainted with Tolver to be at all upended by his unflattering assessments. “I am conceding. Please consider this my acceptance of my defeat.” He pressed his mallet to his heart and bowed to them all.

He turned once more and continued on with Baby. While it was terribly important to keep his clients happy, he had to live in this house full of ghosts. Keeping the peace among all of them was essential.

They'd not even reached the house when Zizzy joined them. “The Captain has been teasing Baby again.”

“So I've heard. Hopefully we can put an end to it, at least for a time.”

The Captain would return to his teasing ways. As Granny had so aptly put it, a ghost could not help their Integral Traits.

They are looking for you . Mercury shook off her words, as he’d done countless times since she’d awoken him the night before.

The Captain popped through a garden wall directly in front of them. Just as Mercury could have predicted, he held his head in his hands. Baby shrieked.

Mercury eyed the headless haunt with exhausted exasperation. “Captain.”

“What?” His tone of overdone innocence would not have fooled anyone.

“Capitate yourself,” Mercury insisted .

“What is the point of having the ability to decapitate myself if I'm not allowed to do so?”

“Playing the martyr is Mawky's role,” Mercury said. “You are absolutely allowed to pop your head off anytime you want, but you've been asked to stop doing it in front of Baby. You know it upsets him, and causing a child ghost distress does not reflect well on you.”

Clearly annoyed, the Captain popped his head back in place. “I'm just trying to toughen the little one up.”

“Baby doesn't need toughening,” Mercury said. “We've had this discussion before.”

“I suppose,” he said with a ghostly sigh and floated back through the wall once more. From the other side, his voice echoed back. “It was far more fun on my ship.”

Considering that was, as far as Mercury had been able to ascertain, a ghostly pirate ship, Mercury wasn't certain he wanted to know what form that “fun” took.

He looked down at Baby. Poor thing didn’t look entirely relieved. “I don’t like when he does that.”

“I wish I could promise you that he won’t do it again.”

“I can't wait for pirate ghosts to be in fashion.” Baby reached up and took hold of Zizzy's ghostly hand, and the two of them floated off. They were good for each other, even though neither of them had a figurative backbone.

Mercury rubbed at the back of his neck. He liked the Captain. And, in most respects, the sometimes-headless ghost was a good addition to the twenty. But if he kept torturing Baby, Mercury was going to have to make an effort to arrange a transfer.

He turned back, knowing he needed to rejoin the others even if he didn't rejoin the game. He needed to get Lord Garston to finally make a decision. He needed to nudge the Huddlestons toward one as well. And he needed to find out if Granny Grey was destined to prove friend or foe.

But turning back, he found Miss Huddleston was once again looking in his direction. And while she wasn't directly beside him, she was near enough that he knew she'd be able to hear him.

“While I am, I will admit, flattered,” he said, “I am excessively curious as to why I so often find you looking at me.”

Her brows arched, and her expression turned a little remonstrative. “And I'm curious why it is you think that I'm looking at you .”