The Ghost of Marlow House (Haunting Danielle Book 1) (8 page)

Weary from the long day, Danielle
snuggled under a pile of blankets and closed her eyes. She’d brought fresh
linens and blankets with her to Frederickport. She couldn’t imagine sleeping in
whatever dusty bedding she might find in the old house. It was her second night
in her new home. The day had been busy, beginning with her visit to the
newspaper office and museum, and then dealing with the plumber. Fortunately the
leak was an easy fix, yet she was grateful it hadn’t occurred last week,
between visits from the housekeeper. The possible water damage could have
racked up a serious repair bill.

One positive about the day’s events was
that the plumber had time to go through the house and see what needed to be
done to help her bring the building into the twenty-first century. She wanted to
order new, modern appliances and wanted to make sure she could hook up a washing
machine and dishwasher, not to mention an icemaker on whatever refrigerator she
ended up buying.

When Lily and Ian returned from
breakfast, the plumber had already completed the repairs and was inspecting the
rest of the house. Ian offered to go through the property looking for other
needed repairs after explaining his construction background. Danielle thanked
him and lied, saying she’d already made arrangements with a contractor. While
Ian seemed like a nice enough guy, she didn’t feel comfortable knowing he was
not being truthful regarding his state of employment. That was, of course, she
reminded herself, if she could believe a golden retriever.

Danielle assumed Ian was interested in Lily,
considering the way he hung around for a good hour after returning from
breakfast. It wasn’t until Lily gently nudged him out the door, saying she
needed to get some work done, that he finally took the hint and left. Danielle
could tell Lily was a little sad to see him go.

After a closer inspection of the home’s
furnishings, Danielle realized it would be necessary to either reupholster or
replace some of the pieces. In the room Lily was using, the fabric covering the
small sofa crumbled when Lily set her suitcase on its cushion. While that was
the only piece of upholstered furniture she found where the fabric had totally
deteriorated, she noticed thinning and tearing upholstery on other chairs and
sofas throughout the house.

Danielle hadn’t seen Walt since that
morning. He’d vanished moments after announcing she had to prove he hadn’t
committed suicide. She’d been so busy dealing with the plumber that she hadn’t
had time to consider his request or, more accurately, his demand.

Yawning, Danielle rolled over on her
left side and then smelled something—cigar smoke. Opening her eyes, she was
startled to find Walt Marlow lounging casually next to her on the bed,
leisurely smoking a cigar as he leaned against the headboard. Still wearing the
same vintage suit and polished leather dress shoes, he looked as if he was
ready to go out on the town.

Sitting up abruptly, pulling the top
edge of the blanket up to cover her chest, she glared at Walt. Under the blanket
she wore plaid flannel pajama bottoms and a tank top.

“What are you doing here?” she hissed.

“It’s my bedroom.” Walt let out a smoke
ring and watched it curl and disappear.

“It
was
your bedroom,” she
corrected. “Get out of my bed!”

“You’re in my bed, Danielle. I am
willing to share. You are a selfish girl, aren’t you?” He turned his head
toward her and smiled.

“Technically speaking, this was never
your bed. My aunt replaced the beds in this house about five years ago.”
Danielle scooted up a little straighter and then leaned back on the headboard,
her hands still clutching the top of her blanket as she watched Walt.

“She did?” Walt arched his brows
thoughtfully as if considering her words. “Hmm, that explains things.”

“Explains what?”

“I thought Angela had ordered new beds.
I wondered why at the time. I asked the delivery men what they were doing. 
Where they were taking my beds. But they just ignored me.”

“You were a ghost. They couldn’t see
you.”

“I understand that now. Why did she buy
new beds if she never came here?”

“I’m not sure.” Danielle shrugged.
“According to Renton…”

“Renton?”

“Mr. Renton, he was my aunt’s attorney.
According to him, everything in the house is pretty much as it was when he
began managing her estate. All except the beds. I guess she was planning to
come back to the US and stay at Marlow House. She didn’t want to sleep on
ancient mattresses. Who can blame her? So she arranged to have new beds bought
in and removed the old ones.  For some reason she changed her mind about coming.
As far as I know, the last time she was in the States was when she got
married.”

“I suppose I should be grateful she didn’t
let Marlow House fall into decay.”

“Will you get out of
my
bed now?”
Danielle considered giving him a little shove, yet remembered it wouldn’t do
any good.

“Do you always dress that way to sleep?”
Walt eyed Danielle.

Lifting her blanket slightly she peeked
under her covers. There was no way he could see what she wore—at least not now.

“You watched me dress!” Danielle gasped.

“More accurately, undress and redress
again.” Walt puffed happily on his cigar.

“I expect you to respect my privacy!”

“When a beautiful young woman chooses to
undress in my bedroom, you can’t expect me to look away.”

“I’d expect for you not to be here,” she
snapped.
Beautiful young woman—well, I suppose that is sort of sweet
,
she thought.

“I won’t follow you into the bathroom,”
he promised.

“While I appreciate that, I’d also like
some privacy here.”

“Why? It’s not like I can actually take
advantage of you, and frankly, I’ve missed watching beautiful women. I’m afraid
Joanne wasn’t much to look at. Plus she was closer to my mother’s age.”

“You mean your granddaughter’s,”
Danielle corrected.

“I suppose if I had a granddaughter, she
could possibly be Joanne’s age today, but that is hardly the point.  And you
never answered my question.”

“What question?” Danielle felt
flustered.

“Do you always dress like that for bed?
I’d like to see you in one of Angela’s silk nightgowns. You definitely have the
figure for it. Much more feminine.”

Danielle was both annoyed and flattered.
She had never been happy with her body. For starters, she believed she was too
short. The only time she didn’t feel short was when she stood next to Lily. But
then she felt overweight, considering her friend’s tiny frame—tiny except for
Lily’s generous bust line.

Even if Danielle bleached her dark hair,
she would never be a leggy blonde. While she wouldn’t call herself fat exactly,
she had fifteen pounds she had been trying to shed since high school to no avail.
Maybe if she were a few inches taller those extra pounds wouldn’t bother her so
much. She suspected the only reason her B-cup boosted cleavage was due to her
extra pounds and had she slimmed down to her goal weight, that cleavage would
disappear. Regularly riding her bicycle hadn’t helped her lose weight, though
it did keep her toned. Considering all that, Danielle couldn’t help but be a
little flattered that a man—albeit one who had been dead almost 90 years—found
her figure negligee worthy.

“Those thoughts seem a little…
earthy
for a ghost,” Danielle noted.

“Sorry, Danielle. I don’t know the
rules.” Walt gave a shrug and then continued. “Why aren’t you married? You
aren’t, are you?”

“Married?” Danielle frowned, glancing
down at her left hand.

“Just how old are you?”

“You are a nosy ghost.”

“I detest that term. Please refrain from
using it,” he ordered.

“What term?”

“Ghost. I’m still the man I’ve always
been.” Walt paused and reconsidered his words. “Perhaps I’m not
exactly
the
man I used to be—physically I appear to be somewhat—well elusive perhaps. But I
feel the same—at least I do now, since you’ve let in the light.”

“Let in the light? What in the world are
you talking about?” Danielle released hold of her blanket and folded her hands
on her lap, atop the covering.

“For as long as I can remember I’ve been
lost in a fog. Wandering this house, confused as if I had enjoyed a bit too
much brandy. I wondered what was keeping Angela, why we had a new housekeeper,
one who refused to talk to me. Understanding my current state has clarified
things for me—brought everything into focus.”

“I’m happy things are clearer for you
now, but…”

“Why aren’t you married?” Walt
interrupted. “You’re far too old to be unwed, and you don’t look like a woman
who would live out her life as an old maid.”

“You think I look old?”  She liked it
better when he was complimenting her looks.

“Just how old are you?”

“Thirty if you must know…”

“Thirty? Good lord, you can’t be
serious.” He seemed genuinely surprised.

“For a ghost you can sure be a jerk
sometimes,” Danielle grumbled, leaning back on the headboard.

“It’s just that I thought you were
around twenty-one, twenty-three at the most.”

“Well…I suppose you’re not
that
much of a jerk,” Danielle muttered.

“You’re four years older than me,” Walt
announced.

“Okay, now you’re back to being a jerk
again.” Danielle folded her arms across her chest and glared at Walt.

“Clearly an old maid in spite of your
looks.”

Danielle groaned, grabbed hold of her
blanket again and scooted down in the bed, pulling the bedding up over her
head. Walt glanced over at the lump hidden under the coverings and chuckled.

“I’m sorry if you take offense at being
called an old maid, but I did give you a compliment. You are a very attractive
young woman. Perhaps the reason for your state of matrimony has something to do
with how you dress. I’d like to see you dolled up.”

“If you must know, I was married,”
Danielle blurted after she sat back up and uncovered her head.

“What happened, did he leave you when
you refused to dress as a woman?” Walt asked with a grin.

“Lucas died.”

Walt eyed her curiously for a moment
before responding. He noted a hint of sadness shadowing her features. “You
certainly don’t expect me to be sympathetic? Especially considering my state.”

“Your state?” Danielle puzzled.

“Obviously. Like your husband, I’m no
longer alive. So where is he?” Walt glanced around the room. “Does this mean I
can’t see him in the same way your friend, Lily can’t see me?”

“He isn’t here. At least I don’t think
so.”

“Why not? I thought you can
see…well…people like us.”

“I can’t control what spirit I see.”

“Spirit. I believe I prefer that term to
ghost.”

“Well I want to be politically correct
so I’ll be sure to call you a spirit and not a ghost,” Danielle quipped sarcastically.

“Why can’t you see him?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know why I can
see some spirits and not others. After my parents died I never once saw them.
They didn’t come to me. Neither did Lucas.”

“You lost your parents too?” Walt asked
softly.

“Yes.”

“Have you any brothers or sisters?”

“No. Just an exceedingly annoying cousin
named Cheryl.”

“I’m sorry.” He sounded sincerely
sympathetic.

“I thought you weren’t going to give me
sympathy for something as trivial as the death of a loved one.”

“It’s not the death—it’s being separated
from them.  What happened to your husband?”

“He was killed earlier this year in a
car accident.”

“And you had no children?” he asked.

“No. At one time we talked about it.”
But
considering everything, it was best there were no children.

“My dear, one does not go about having
children by talking about it. They come along most naturally. How long were you
married before he was killed?”

“I was twenty-one when we were married.
Why?”

“And you never had a child during your
marriage?”

“We wanted to wait.”

“Good lord! What kind of a marriage is
that?” Walt seemed appalled at the idea. Narrowing her eyes, Danielle looked
over at him.

“When I said we wanted to wait, I meant
we wanted to wait to have children—not that we were waiting to consummate our
marriage—or enjoy each other physically. Sheesh….” Danielle shook her head at
the idea. Then she added, “Fortunately, I live in an era when women can enjoy
sex without getting pregnant.”

“Good lord woman, you’re brash.”

Danielle laughed and then said, “You
make yourself home in my bed, quiz me about my marriage and then accuse me of
being brash?”