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very inebriated can, and Prince Nicco was busy dazzling a recently divorced brewery heiress.
    As she made her way through the room, Mr. Coster gave her a nod, which made her think he’d believed her story after all. Several very nice men turned to look at her, and normally she would have returned that interest, but not tonight.
    Tonight, she had never felt more alone in her life.
    There had been other parties. Some where she had behaved in a way that was dangerously out of control, and some where she couldn’t remember much after the first few drinks. Amy admitted that a few years ago she treated every day as if it were her last. She had certainly been less than scrupulous about the company she kept. She’d half thought this weekend would be like that, but now…
    She’d changed. She’d become a different person, and she hadn’t realized it until this weekend with Jez. She’d turned over a new leaf, but there was more to it than that. Since Rey had burst into her life, the change seemed to have accelerated.
    The thing was…she couldn’t get him out of her mind.
    Impossible and ridiculous and irrational as it was, she wanted to believe him. He’d seemed so lucid and so sure. So believable. Was a man from the past coming to the present any more unlikely than flying through space? Or a cut-price sale at Cartier’s? She wanted his story to be true.
    Life on the Parkhill Estate had made Amy a down-to-earth and practical girl. She didn’t try to glamorize the world around her. She might escape into romance but she didn’t really believe anyone like those marvelous heroes would ever seek her out. But that didn’t stop her from hoping.
    Rey’s story had a wonderful feel to it that caught her imagination, just like a romance. When she was with him she felt optimistic.
    Maybe it was this place. The castle had an ambience, despite some areas being redecorated to within an inch of their life. But once you were away from the worst of that, in the stone passages and stairwells, you could almost hear the past calling to you around the next corner. Why shouldn’t the Ghost live on?
    Amy turned back through groups of happy people. Jez was now at the center of a large crowd, telling one of his stories. He used to do this when they were kids, hold everyone’s attention with the ease of a seasoned performer. The stories and the suits had changed, but not her brother.
    Jez caught sight of her, delivered the punch line, and smoothly made his exit while his audience was laughing hysterically. With his hand on her arm, he leaned in close to prevent their being overheard. The scent of his expensive aftershave tickled her nose, and the diamond stud in his ear winked in the light. If she didn’t know better, she’d think he was a successful businessman or an entrepreneur. Maybe the owner of one of the more fashionable London clubs.
    Jez fixed her with a look. “What do you think you’re doing, sweetheart? Nicco came to me before in tears.”
    “I doubt that,” she began to protest, but he was already steering her toward a quiet corner.
    Amy sighed and let him have his way. There was a raised platform or dais, and behind that a wall covered in weaponry. Jez stopped in front of a dozen or so swords, somewhat incongruously arranged in a pretty circle around a shield.
    “Have you forgotten why we’re here?” He was bending his head, so that he could look directly into her eyes. “ Nicco. Does that ring any bells?”
    “You don’t have to remind me why we’re here, Jez—”
    “I think I do. We have one chance. We have to take it.”
    You mean you have to take it, she thought, but didn’t say it aloud. What was the point? Jez needed her, and she owed him in more ways than she could ever repay. Without him…well she wouldn’t be here, and if she was, she wouldn’t be the strong, well-adjusted woman she’d turned out to be.
    “I get the message, Jez.”
    He relaxed. “Fine then. Let’s have no more running off and doing a