Page 28 of Never Besmirch a Wallflower: Dukes and Wallflowers

“It’s my house, I’ll go.” Levi tossed back the remaining portion of his whiskey.

Choking and eyes watering, he forced his body toward the exit.

Roxburghe set down his empty tumbler. “I’ll accompany you.”

“I’m perfectly capable of walking down my own corridor without an escort,” Levi muttered as they exited the kitchen.

“Which is why,” Grisham’s voice vibrated behind them, “I’m conveying you as well.”

Levi groaned, rolling his eyes toward the ceiling. “Neither of you are concerned about my well-being. You just don’t want the other man to have the opportunity to expel Mr. Philbert’s ghost first.”

“Does that mean you believe?” Grisham asked, ignoring Levi’s exasperated observation.

As much as he hated admitting that the spirit of Mr. Philbert haunted his house, Levi couldn’t think of one other plausible explanation for the conservatory door to open and shut with enough force to damage one of the thick glass panels.

There was no one else in the house.

“If what I think shattered actually did break, then yes,” Levi replied, glancing back at the kitchen.

Mansfield hovered in the doorway, his face awash with indecision.

“And what do you suspect broke?” Roxburghe said, leading them down the hallway.

“The conservatory door,” Levi murmured, craning his head as they neared the greenhouse entrance.

He issued a low curse.

Glass shards, strewn across the carpet, glittered like diamonds in the flickering light of a nearby wall-mounted oil lamp.

Kneeling by the pieces, Roxburghe selected the largest chunk and lifted it, studying the edges, then raised his eyes to Levi, his expression grave. “If we’re truly going to perform an exorcism, then we’ll need the other three to assist us.”

Levi nodded, swallowing the mound of sand accumulating in his mouth. “We also need the bowl Mrs. Grove prepared.”

“Who performs the ritual?” Roxburghe asked as he rose.

His innocent question drew a snarl from Grisham, who spun and stabbed a finger into Roxburghe’s chest.

“I do.” His usually pleasing face twisted into a dark scowl. “I proposed first, and since the specter is the deceased brother of my fiancée, I’ll attempt to rid this house of him first.”

Grisham shifted his glower toward Levi as though he expected Levi to argue in favor of Roxburghe.

“I won’t fight you for the honor,” Levi replied, gesturing toward the kitchen doorway and the man pacing in front of it. “Although Mansfield might.”

Pushing past Levi, Grisham strode down the hallway toward the kitchen. “Mansfield has no stake and, therefore, no say.”

“Apparently,” Roxburghe said, his voice low, “I don’t, either.”

Levi clucked his tongue, compassion for his friends’ difficult situation washing over him. “You’ve pushed him too far; he’s a man suffering from love.”

“As am I.”

“And are you as manic as Grisham?” Levi raised both eyebrows.

“Worse.”

“Your affliction sounds horrific.”

“Careful, Lennox.” Roxburghe clapped Levi on the back. “I do believe this particular disease is contagious.”