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Authors: Hundreds of Years to Reform a Rake
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task. My curse was to be born into a family of readers and book collectors.
Amelia brings home bags of paperbacks from the church rummage sale. If the south wing collapses, it will be from the weight
of the crates of books stored there. I loathe reading.Too solitary.Too inactive.”
“Then why do you do it?”
Deverell raised one hand and, with the flick of his wrist, produced his signature snifter of brandy. Did he use it as a prop
to convey a relaxed attitude? His long, tapered fingers curled around the globe of glass, caressing the curves absently as
he gazed into the fire.
“Never seems to taste right,” he mused. “Even fully materialized, I cannot generate the body heat required to warm the brandy
properly.”
Without thinking, Josie reached for his brandy snifter. Silently she cupped the glass in two hands, gently, slowly, swirling
the liquid for several minutes before handing it back.
He breathed the aroma and took a healthy swallow, his eyes closing in an expression of intense pleasure.“Thank you.”
The simple heart-felt words meant more than any elaborate phrases. She knew instinctively that he could have easily called
any number of flowery speeches into use.A warm glow spread through her stomach as if she had sipped from the snifter herself.
“If you dislike reading,why are you trying to read through the library?” she asked, as much to get her mind back on a safe
topic as to satisfy her curiosity.
“Because I must complete the task in order to be free of my obligation.”
Josie waited, not comprehending his meaning.
Deverell rose to pace the small chamber.“When I died, I chose to redeem my worthless life by assuming the guardianship of
this castle. Rather than a specific time span, my term will last until I complete a task designed to improve my character.Then,
another guardian can take my place and I will move onward.”
Josie shook her head, still not understanding.
“The task assigned to me by the former guardian is to read every book in the castle library.” Deverell faced her, his gray
eyes stormy. “It was a trick. A fancy lure hiding a barbed hook.The old reprobate’s idea of a grand joke. And I never knew
I’d been caught until the hook was well set, and I was left floundering like a fish in the bottom of a boat.”
Josie watched Deverell as she shifted around and groped blindly for her notebook and pen. She let it fall open to any old
page, not taking her attention off Deverell.“Who tricked you?”
The ghost shoved one hand through his hair. One black lock fell back across his forehead leaving him looking...approachable.
He sat in the chair again, leaning forward with his elbows on his thighs and his hands clasped between his knees.
“Earlier this evening you mentioned the ghost of Sir Robert....” Josie’s voice trailed off in uncertainty as he stared at
her notebook and poised pen.
“Now I know how bacteria feel under a microscope.” Deverell conjured up another brandy and held it out to Josie to warm.“If
you please.”
She balanced the notebook on her lap, then cupped the snifter in her palms. “We can talk off the record, so to speak, if you
prefer.We can simply chat as friends.” She handed him the glass.
Deverell leaned back in his chair, crossing his legs and pushing the wayward lock of hair back off his forehead before downing
half the contents of the glass. “Interesting concept, a woman friend. Can’t say the idea has ever occurred to me.”
“Amelia is your friend.”
“She is my great-niece several times over. I watched her grow up.You, Miss Drummond, have been here precisely twenty days,
and we met a mere seven hours ago.We are virtually strangers.”Deverell did not flinch at his deliberate shading of the truth.
He had researched her quite thoroughly. She had a weak spot for the underdog and a fondness for old black and white films,
and she was attracted to totally unsuitable men because they did not
Amelia brings home bags of paperbacks from the church rummage sale. If the south wing collapses, it will be from the weight
of the crates of books stored there. I loathe reading.Too solitary.Too inactive.”
“Then why do you do it?”
Deverell raised one hand and, with the flick of his wrist, produced his signature snifter of brandy. Did he use it as a prop
to convey a relaxed attitude? His long, tapered fingers curled around the globe of glass, caressing the curves absently as
he gazed into the fire.
“Never seems to taste right,” he mused. “Even fully materialized, I cannot generate the body heat required to warm the brandy
properly.”
Without thinking, Josie reached for his brandy snifter. Silently she cupped the glass in two hands, gently, slowly, swirling
the liquid for several minutes before handing it back.
He breathed the aroma and took a healthy swallow, his eyes closing in an expression of intense pleasure.“Thank you.”
The simple heart-felt words meant more than any elaborate phrases. She knew instinctively that he could have easily called
any number of flowery speeches into use.A warm glow spread through her stomach as if she had sipped from the snifter herself.
“If you dislike reading,why are you trying to read through the library?” she asked, as much to get her mind back on a safe
topic as to satisfy her curiosity.
“Because I must complete the task in order to be free of my obligation.”
Josie waited, not comprehending his meaning.
Deverell rose to pace the small chamber.“When I died, I chose to redeem my worthless life by assuming the guardianship of
this castle. Rather than a specific time span, my term will last until I complete a task designed to improve my character.Then,
another guardian can take my place and I will move onward.”
Josie shook her head, still not understanding.
“The task assigned to me by the former guardian is to read every book in the castle library.” Deverell faced her, his gray
eyes stormy. “It was a trick. A fancy lure hiding a barbed hook.The old reprobate’s idea of a grand joke. And I never knew
I’d been caught until the hook was well set, and I was left floundering like a fish in the bottom of a boat.”
Josie watched Deverell as she shifted around and groped blindly for her notebook and pen. She let it fall open to any old
page, not taking her attention off Deverell.“Who tricked you?”
The ghost shoved one hand through his hair. One black lock fell back across his forehead leaving him looking...approachable.
He sat in the chair again, leaning forward with his elbows on his thighs and his hands clasped between his knees.
“Earlier this evening you mentioned the ghost of Sir Robert....” Josie’s voice trailed off in uncertainty as he stared at
her notebook and poised pen.
“Now I know how bacteria feel under a microscope.” Deverell conjured up another brandy and held it out to Josie to warm.“If
you please.”
She balanced the notebook on her lap, then cupped the snifter in her palms. “We can talk off the record, so to speak, if you
prefer.We can simply chat as friends.” She handed him the glass.
Deverell leaned back in his chair, crossing his legs and pushing the wayward lock of hair back off his forehead before downing
half the contents of the glass. “Interesting concept, a woman friend. Can’t say the idea has ever occurred to me.”
“Amelia is your friend.”
“She is my great-niece several times over. I watched her grow up.You, Miss Drummond, have been here precisely twenty days,
and we met a mere seven hours ago.We are virtually strangers.”Deverell did not flinch at his deliberate shading of the truth.
He had researched her quite thoroughly. She had a weak spot for the underdog and a fondness for old black and white films,
and she was attracted to totally unsuitable men because they did not
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