William's presence behind the large hedge. She'd have a great deal of explaining to do if her uncle or Constance saw her strolling around the grounds with a handsome Renaissance man. She giggled, imagining the look on her uncle's face as she explained that her friend was actually a ghost and could probably entertain him for hours with first hand knowledge of the sixteenth century.
"What do you find so amusing?” William grinned down at her.
"I was just thinking about Uncle Jerome and how he would act if the two of you ever met."
"Do you think he would find me frightening?"
"On the contrary. He'd probably do his best to keep you by his side at all times, drilling you with question after question about your life. Constance, on the other hand, would probably faint.” She laughed.
"Aye, that she would. She nearly did so upon our first encounter."
"Encounter? You mean she knows you're here?"
"Nay, not in the way you know of my presence.” He looked somewhat chagrined as he continued. “I tormented her, somewhat, when she attempted to sleep in the chamber bed. I hope you are not angry with me."
Isabel quickly hid her smile. “I'm shocked. I don't know if I can ever forgive such an infraction."
"Isabel,” Jerome called from the other side of the garden hedge.
"You are teasing me, sweet Isabel. I shall not forget it.” He smiled broadly and disappeared.
"Over here,” she called to her uncle.
Jerome appeared around the hedge and stepped up beside her. “Susan's here to see you. She's in the library.” He looked up and down the garden path. “Who were you talking to? I could have sworn I heard voices."
"Oh, uh, just talking to myself. Come on. I don't want to keep Susan waiting.” Quickly taking her uncle's arm, they headed for the house. She and William would have to be more careful in the future.
The minute she entered the library, Susan pounced.
"Isabel, when I heard, I almost died.” She placed air kisses near each side of her face.
"How nice to see you, but you shouldn't have come all this way.” Isabel moved to the edge of the antique settee and sat down, immediately sensing William's presence beside her.
His image became clearer as the sunlight shifted behind the curtains. She forced her attention back to her guest, realizing how silly she must look smiling at nothing.
Pacing the room with her cigarette held aloft like a beacon, Susan searched for an ashtray. Her long blonde hair, pulled neatly back, barely touched the collar of her designer dress. Her model figure and mile long legs always made Isabel groan.
In comparison, they were as different as night and day. Susan's tall, thin frame drew men like a magnet, where Isabel's short, somewhat fuller figure only garnered a few interested glances.
"If I could smell, I am certain I would not care for her scent,” William whispered in Isabel's ear.
She bit down on her bottom lip, holding in her laughter. That was the most wonderful thing she'd ever heard.
Okay, so he was a ghost and probably wasn't up on what was popular with men in her century, but he wasn't captivated by Susan as so many others were.
She watched him covertly as his gaze followed Susan around the room. The look of distaste on his face was a salve to her womanly pride, or what was left of it after Chad. She couldn't help feeling a little joy in sitting next to the most handsome man—ghost—she'd ever seen, who wasn't interested in her old college roommate.
And they say miracles never happen, she thought with a smug grin.
Finally locating an ashtray on her uncle's desk, Susan stubbed out her cigarette before turning her crystal blue eyes on her. “After talking to Chad the other day, I just had to see how you were holding up. I'm so sorry, darling,” she drawled.
The massive bookcase lining the wall behind Susan was the perfect backdrop. If Isabel hadn't known better, she would have thought she'd planned her wardrobe with the coloring of the library in mind. The deep red
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