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should talk to Jasper again,” Colin muttered. “You haven’t fully recovered your abilities yet, and I can’t exactly punch a ghost if it comes to that.”
    â€œI can’t ask him about his dead wife again,” I said. “You didn’t see his face. Anyway, he won’t believe us.”
    â€œThis is a mistake,” Colin maintained, frowning into the delicate, warm breeze that tousled his hair. “Can’t you feel it?”
    I frowned, looking around more carefully. “I don’t see anything,” I said. “Or feel anything. Not yet.”
    He shivered, rubbing a hand over his eyes roughly. “Never mind.” Before I could press him for more details he jerked his chin in the direction of the tall carved angel beside him. “Found it.”
    It was fairly innocuous, as far as gravestones went. The angelwas impressive but it wasn’t marble or gilt; it was carved from the same fieldstone as everything else. Roses and lavender grew at its base. The wings were detailed, gray stone feathers arching up and back. I hadn’t seen them that night I’d taken a tumble. They’d been lost in the darkness and the shadows of the oak and yew trees. But I saw them now.
    Along with the trampled flowers where I’d fallen.
    â€œShe
was
the one who grabbed me,” I said softly.
    â€œShe
grabbed
you?” Colin echoed, stepping closer to me.
    â€œYou thought I tripped,” I said. “But I felt a hand close over my ankle.”
    â€œBefore everything turned to ice.”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œWonderful. Do you reckon she’s jealous?” Colin asked.
    I nodded, running my fingertips over the cursive letters of Lady Jasper’s name. “It seems likely, doesn’t it?” My hand dropped back to my side. “But why attack Lord Jasper and not Lady Ashburnham? Why attack us in the village?”
    â€œWe were in Jasper’s carriage,” Colin pointed. “Might be as simple as that.”
    â€œI suppose so.” I shook my head. “It’s rather rude of her.” But then ghosts, in my experience, never did have any manners. “Lord Jasper told me spirits can return to their burial ground,” I added. I didn’t mention that he’d suggested I rest and let them speak to me as they chose. “So this has as much chance of working as anything else we could try.”
    â€œI’d rather not play with that spirit board again,” Colin agreed. The last time we’d done that, an old woman with ratsin her hair had pushed through his chest, nearly freezing his heart to a halt. I wasn’t eager to repeat the experience either.
    I sat down in front of the angel. If this were a séance, there would be others with me. We’d hold hands, sing Spiritualist songs, and then I would call the spirits out. If it were a séance with my mother, Colin and I would have prepared the sitting room beforehand. We’d have hidden vials of perfumes, set up bellows for cold drafts of air, and Colin would toss various powders to make the fire change colors. He’d crack the bones in his neck for spirit knocks. I’d rattle the table with the toe of my boot to speak for the spirits.
    But I wasn’t my mother.
    When I spoke to the dead, they really did speak back. Not terribly comforting, actually.
    I took a deep breath and tried to relax my vision, the way Lord Jasper had taught me. The spot between my eyes warmed up. I ignored it. I took salt from my pocket and sprinkled it into the valley my dress made between my knees.
    â€œLady Jasper,” I said, willing my voice to sound confident. Colin moved to stand behind me, his knee brushing my shoulder. “Speak to us.”
    The grass stayed warm under me. A ladybug crawled across the angle’s wing.
    â€œLady Jasper, you will speak to us now.”
    I listened, straining to hear any sound that didn’t belong.
    Nothing.
    Of