The Lord and the Banshee (Read by Candlelight #13) - Gillian St. Kevern Page 0,30

“I’ve not seen you like that. It scared me.”

“Self-inflicted, both of them. What man of sixty-seven can vault off a terrace and expect to be unscathed? And then the sighting of the banshee the second time was preceded by both of us tumbling to the ground. The fall had more to do with my poor reaction than anything supernatural.”

“You’re sure? No—no need to answer that. Your looks speak for themselves.” Pip reached for Cross’s hand, squeezing it.

Thomas forced himself to smile, conscious of the weight of the heart hanging around his neck. “Put it from your mind. Our bigger concern is what business the banshee has in singling you out.”

Pip pursed his lips. “I have a theory. But I do not think you will like it.”

“Oh?”

Pip raised a hand, his fingers closing on thin air as he tried to grasp something out of reach. “There’s something odd about this entire situation. Banshees wail. Una doesn’t. Is she a ghost? Or is there something else going on here? The fact that she looked in your window, not one of the O’Flaherty’s, that she pointed at me on the terrace… I think the banshee needs our help.” He grimaced. “We can’t leave a woman in distress.”

Cross’s throat tightened. “Even a dead woman?”

Pip sighed. “If anything, her death makes her more vulnerable. There are so few people who would interest themselves in her plight. We are some of those few… We cannot fail her. There is something she wants to communicate, something she needs—but I cannot figure it out.” His voice cracked.

Pip felt deeply about this. Cross pinched the bridge of his nose. “You imagine your sister or your niece in her position.”

Pip shook his head. “It is the O’Flaherty women I am concerned with. I suspect that there is a connection between them and the banshee.”

“Oh?” Had Pip reached the same conclusion—that the banshee was manufactured for some reason of the O’Flahertys?

“I have been pondering what will happen to them should Lord Connaught successfully sell the castle. In the best case scenario, they will stay on as servants. Mrs O’Flaherty is doing her spring clean with the thought that she must prove her worth to any future employer—though how likely is it that the new owner of Connaught would want the constant reminder in her presence of the O’Flaherty history? And for Stella, who has lived as if she were the late Lord’s daughter and been accorded all of the privileges thereof… To live in her former home in the capacity of a servant… I cannot imagine how she would bear that. In the worst case scenario, they are rendered homeless.”

Thomas blinked. “The welfare of the O’Flaherty women is not our business.”

“True—though I cannot be moved by their plight. It occurs to me that as a fellow woman, the banshee must not be insensible to the dilemma they face.”

“You have been spending too much time with the Lepidopterist collective.” The group of young women had some very peculiar ideas about the adequacy of the rights accorded women. “I am sure that Mrs O’Flaherty is not without resources, and that her daughter is not without friends. They will survive.”

“Even so,” Pip said, turning back to the record book open before him. “There is some purpose in the banshee’s appearances—and I do not intend her plea for help to go unanswered.”

The imploring look the banshee had fixed on them… Cross bowed his head. “I will leave you to your research.” Pip had seen it and he had not. The banshee might be fiction, but the desperate plea in her gaze was real.

15

What had come over him? Thomas stomped down the castle hallways. He prided himself on never shying away from a difficult task. He spoke his mind, no matter what the occasion, and freely admitted to his mistakes. Not for him this modern tip-toeing around difficult questions! No, he never backed down from a duty, no matter how unpleasant. And here he was, the infamous Lord Cross, hesitant to disappoint Pip by telling him his banshee was a fake! Julian would have a lot to say about his cowardice—

Cross came to a sudden halt.

Was it really Julian’s scorn he was afraid of? Or was it another duty left undone… Cross pressed a hand to his jacket, feeling the hard weight of the heart resting against his chest. Once the matter of the banshee was cleared up, he had no reason not to tell Pip the truth about his health. More than that, there was