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his
chin.
    Christian’s gaze fell back onto her. “I wish I knew her
name. She doesn’t remember it, you know.”
    “Indeed, that is odd.”
    “Oh! I’ve just gotten a brilliant idea! Let’s hold a séance
for her. Perhaps the psychic will be able to get her name from other spirits.”
    The old man looked as though he didn’t think it was so
brilliant, and said as much. “A séance, my lord? Have you gone mad?”
    “Isn’t it fashionable to have one these days?”
    “I gather it must be. Though I would not recommend it.”
    “Why, because of evil spirits?”
    “That’s one reason.”
    “And the other?”
    “Funds, Chris, you should know better. How much does it cost
to have a séance? You must be frugal until your father—”
    Christian groaned. He didn’t want to remember that.
    Jackson continued, “Do you really want to risk wasting money
only to invite more wicked specters—”
    “She doesn’t have a wicked bone...uh...she is not wicked,
and this is the best way I can think of to help. I’ve already searched every
book I can get my hands on. I never found her name.”
    “And how long have you known this phantom?”
    “Do not call her that. I can sense the intentions of her
heart, and I can say for a surety they are good.”
    “Does she even have a heart?”
    Christian was thrown by that. Her spirit form clearly did
not have skin and bones, but he said with conviction, “She has a soul.”
    “Where is she? I’d like to meet her.”
    “She said she was going to retire.”
    “She sleeps?”
    “I suppose.”
    “And you trust her? Perhaps we should get an exorcist
instead.”
    “Jackson! That would crush her. She’s sweet, trusting and
innocent.”
    “And you know this?”
    “I do.”
    “Very well, have your séance.” Jackson’s expression softened
to a fatherly kindness. “Now, Son, you know I care for you. So please don’t
lose your heart to a girl you can never have,” he mumbled, dipped his head
once, and then turned to leave.
    “I won’t.” But deep down, he knew he was lying. It may have
been too late for that already. “Goodnight. And thank you for the pie,” he
called after the old fellow as he left.
    Christian knew Jackson was right, however. He couldn’t
afford to lose himself to this girl. But found he couldn’t resist talking to
her when she was around. She fascinated him. And somehow her spirit managed to
reach right inside to his and seize his very consciousness with a hug that
began from within and worked its way out.
     
    The next morning he was pleased when she joined him in the
garden while he sat reading. As she lowered herself over the stone bench beside
him, he said, “I must apologize for upsetting you last night—”
    “It was not your fault.” She glanced sideways at him and
then commented, “’Tis a lovely morning, is it not?”
    “It is….” He trailed off as he looked at her spirit figure
in the sunlight. The golden rays bathed her in a gleaming caress. “I thought
you were pretty in the candlelight, but the morning light shimmers...on you,
even more so.” Christian almost said that it shimmers through her, but
then he wasn’t sure how to actually explain what he saw. The sight of her was just
too unearthly for words.
    “You think I’m pretty?” she responded, sounding bashful.
Somehow he knew his words would have tinged her cheeks in pink if she’d been
living, and couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to see her blushing,
solid form.
    “I think you’re absolutely lovely.”
    “Thank you.” And with that, she looked away, unable to hide
the happy curve of her lips. Oh, yes, she would blush so nicely….
    “I’ve thought of another way to discover your name,” he
said.
    She twisted back around to face him. “Really?”
    “Yes, a séance.”
    “A what?”
    “It’s all the rage in London right now. It’s simply a small
gathering of people with a psychic medium who can speak with the dead.”
    “But you can talk