Chapter 2

The Civil War captain sneered as he gazed out the center second-story music room window. Three vehicles descended upon Starling as if they had every right to do so. Six people exited those vehicles in a flurry of activity. He glowered as the man driving the second car made his way toward Norman Lamont, accompanied by his male passenger who swaggered close behind. More than likely, he now gazed upon their temporary “guest,” the man the caretaker spoke so highly of during his previous visit.

The man looked as if had reached his late thirties, had a medium build, and probably stood about five feet ten inches or so. He looked soft. Therefore, it wouldn’t take a whole lot of effort to oust him from the property. Experience taught him that his type frightened easily enough, and he almost looked forward to the exercise. After all, it had been a while since they last had the pleasure.

His gaze shot past his target and fell upon the female standing next to Norman. Perhaps she came to assist the caretaker in some way, or better yet, boost the man’s courage. Of course, right now he could only see her backside. He couldn’t complain about that particular view, though. The woman possessed captivating tresses that hung almost to her waist.

Her long spiral curls reminded him of the stories his mother used to spin of the beautiful Valkyrie maidens, choosers of the slain. Their hair, she said, came from spinning together all the colors of a golden sunrise, their beauty a gift of the gods. Odin charged the women with choosing the bravest of men killed in battle. They would bring the soldiers safely to Valhalla where the soldiers would eternally serve the pagan god within his vast army. According to his mother, the doomed men didn’t seem to mind the escort.

As the group hovered around the large red truck, his Valkyrie woman stood off to the side apart from the others. Her gaze wandered slowly over the grounds. He willed her to face forward so he could get a better look. A few moments later, she complied. For a few precious seconds, she looked up and locked her gaze with his. If he still lived and breathed, she would have knocked the air clean out of him. By far, she was the loveliest woman he ever laid eyes on, a true Valkyrie in every sense of his boyhood imagination. However, somehow and in some way, she also seemed very familiar to him. Yet, for the life of him, he couldn’t figure out why. Obviously, they had never met. He met his death at least a century before she entered mortality. Did she remind him of someone else perhaps?

Amy peered around his shoulder and looked down at the group herself. “Which one do you suppose it is?”

Her question abruptly ended his private musings. He turned toward her and shrugged. “I can’t say for sure, but I’m assuming the man wearing the blue-striped shirt. The one with the look of self-importance on his face.”

Amy concurred with a nod. “I suppose you might be right at that. But it makes one wonder why so many people needed to accompany him here today.”

“In all likelihood they believe there is safety in numbers, Miss Amy,” Beauregard replied in his slow southern drawl, as he, too, joined them at the window. “Notice how they all seem to cluster down there.”

“Well, I for one am happy about whatever cause prompted the renovations of this house. The plantation has needed a bit of sprucing up for goodness knows how long. Now because of his assignment, it’s finally done,” she said. “We won’t have to worry about the place falling down around our heads.”

“Amen to that,” Horace replied. “There is, after all, only so much a body can do without a bit of assistance.”

From his seat at the game table, young Timothy placed a hand over his belly and roared with laughter. “‘So much a body can do’! Pray tell, Mr. Worthington, when did you last possess a body that could do anything but shuffle?”

“Careful, son,” Chauncey warned. “A comment like that might get your ears boxed by the old man yet. Ha! I’ve captured your knight, what are you going to do about that?”

“Simply take your queen with my bishop, and I’m not afraid of Mr. Worthington. Oh, and by the way, checkmate.” Timothy rested his chin atop his hands and looked pointedly at the chessboard.

“It most certainly is not ‘checkmate’ you snot-nosed whippersnapper. It’s a, it’s— Aww, dang it.” Chauncey heaved a sigh and shook his head in annoyance.

Timothy laughed and leaned toward his companion. “Want me to set ’em up again? I’ll let you go first this time. I promise I won’t take so much as a single pawn during my first couple of moves if it makes you feel better.”

“You can set them up if you wish, but I’m going to have to nurse my wounded pride for awhile before I’m ready to play with you again.” Chauncey moved away from the table, and ambled over to the least crowded window. He dropped his gaze to the scene below. “You’re right, Captain. The man does have a look of self-importance about himself. I wonder what it is he’s supposed to do that’s so all-fired important?”

“I don’t know, but I think I’m going to go down there and see if I can find out.” Without issuing an invitation or waiting for a reply, the captain vanished from the music room. He appeared standing next to the tree closest to his Valkyrie woman. He had wondered over the color of her eyes and found no disappointment as he gazed into the jade-green depths. He found her even more striking up close—

****

“Hey guys,” Shae called out just before the group of men disappeared through the front doors with the first filing cabinet in tow. “If you don’t mind, I think I’ll take a look around the grounds while you bring everything in. I think it might help if I stay out of your way, and I’d like to get my bearings.”

Norman smiled and waved her on. “Go ahead, and have fun exploring. There is a small pond and a lovely gazebo around the back that might interest you. They are both original to the house. We’ll see you back inside when you’re ready to come in.”

“All right and thank you,” Shae replied as she strolled toward the back of the property.

Lush, green foliage, and flowers in every variety dominated the grounds. The pond Norman spoke of sat in the center, with four pathways extending in each direction. An angel statuette rose up from the middle, and water poured from the gold-trimmed pitcher she held in her right hand. She approached the pond and sat down on the rounded ledge. Water as clear as crystal invited her to scoop the cool sparkling liquid, and let it trickle back down through her fingers.

Her gaze wandered over the immense property while her hand continued to toy with the water. Off to the right, she spied the gazebo. Yet, just as she stood with every intention of getting a closer look, a sudden heaviness permeated the air around her. The sensation made her slightly dizzy, and she found it a bit difficult to catch her breath. A shiver passed through her body. She equated the familiar feeling with the close proximity of her Viking chieftain. The ghost or ghosts of Starling must be near.

“Hello?” She wrapped her arms around her waist and looked all around her. “Is someone here? You can talk to me if you’d like. I don’t bite,” she said, trying her best to sound friendly.

No answer. Apparently, these spirits did not wish to speak to a mere mortal. At least, not yet. Not wanting to appear ruffled or afraid, she sauntered toward the house. She stopped every so often to admire and inhale the rich fragrance of the flowers along the path. Ian arrived at the front door about the same time she did, carrying the first of the archival boxes.

He shifted the large box into the crook of his arm so he could hand her a set of keys. “These are the keys to the filing cabinets. The cabinets are heavy duty and fireproof. You can set your files up any way you wish, of course. But please keep everything you are not working on locked up inside the cabinets at all times. I’m sure I don’t have to tell someone with your reputation that these documents are fragile and irreplaceable.”

Shae flashed him a smile as they entered her office together. “No, you don’t. I’ll take very good care of them, Ian. I promise. Truly, you don’t have to worry.”

“If I thought for one minute I needed to worry, I wouldn’t give you the documents or the keys,” he replied, giving her a wink.

Ian set the box down on the table, and then turned toward the men who hauled in the cabinets. He gestured toward them with a wave of his hand.

“Shae, I would like to introduce you to George Burwell, and the hulking brute standing next to him is Perry Adler. They are the only two people, besides Reuben and me, authorized to pick up or deliver anything concerning this project. Unless, of course, I personally tell you otherwise. This precaution will ensure the safety and protection of the documents. Unfortunately, the press made a rather big deal about their discovery as well as their worth. Now, the possibility of theft has to be a consideration, I’m afraid.”

Before she could open her mouth to respond, a cold blast of icy wind rushed past her. An instant later, a door slammed violently somewhere above them. All conversation stopped over the unmistakable, reverberating sound it made. Everyone held their breath as the sudden even pacing of heavy booted footsteps atop a creaky wooden floor became increasingly louder. The small group exchanged glances but said nothing. Shae looked over at Norman who simply shrugged an I told you so.

Moments later, Reuben and his company left the premises. Lacking the courage to meet her gaze, the man simply handed her his card, and told her if she needed anything else or had any further questions, she could give him a call. She stood at the door and followed their departure as Reuben and his men drove off without a backward glance.

“I think I would call that ‘beating a hasty retreat.’” Shae raised a mischievous brow as the last of the taillights disappeared around the curve. All the while, she tried her best to ignore the sound of the footsteps.

“Yes, well—” Norman cleared his throat in an exaggerated manner. He looked up toward the ceiling and said, “Let’s get on with your tour, so that I, too, can beat a hasty retreat out of the door. I will, however, wish you all the best after I am gone.”

Shae laughed as they began their tour with the rooms on the ground floor. Rich tones emanating from the chimes of a floor clock beckoned her into the drawing room. The Simon Willard clock sat to the right of the handsomely carved mahogany fireplace mantel. A matching desk sat to the left. Above the fireplace hung a portrait of a little girl. The artist depicted her gathering a large bouquet in a field of lavender wildflowers. She wore a frilly white dress and matching lacy bonnet, both trimmed in pink ribbons. Hurricane lamps with frosted glass adorned the tables next to the rose-colored settee and chair. A Persian rug with a floral motif containing hues of pink and blue lay between them. The tea table in front of the settee held a delicate blue-and-white porcelain tea set. Ruffled white curtains framed the large, square-paned windows.

“I have to tell you, this room looks as if it came straight out of an antebellum magazine.” Shae turned, and gestured toward the portrait. “Did the little girl in the painting live here or is she just—”

“Yes, actually. Her name is Louisa Starling, youngest daughter of Ferdinand and Leatha Starling, the original owners who built this house in the year 1799,” Norman replied.

“What a wonderful piece of history. Tell me, are all of the antique pieces original to the house, or were they gathered from other places and transported here?” Her gaze continued to travel around the room, absorbing every delightful detail.

“Most of them are original to the house, yes,” Norman said. “Since this home served as a hospital during the Civil War, the soldiers left it pretty much intact. The armies from both sides respected it for the function it served and simply left it alone. Other homes in this area were not so lucky, though.”

Startled over the revelation, she wheeled around and met his gaze. “This house served as a hospital? Really?”

“Yes indeed, and it continued in that role long after the war ended. People feared contagious diseases back then and feared this home crawled with them, you see. So at the time, no one wanted to live here. Tuberculosis, known in that era as consumption, as you might already know, ran rampant in these parts. So did the cases of typhoid and yellow fever, malaria, and various other diseases. People died at an alarming rate.

“There are many who feel some of the spirits inhabiting this house are the patients who died during that particular time period. Years later the home sold to the first of many owners because, as I told you earlier, no one could stay here very long. Then finally, after the last resident deeded Starling to the National Trust, the organization opened it up as a museum of sorts. We gave tours with guides in period clothing and whatnot as a last ditch effort to maintain the funds necessary to run this house as well as a few of our other properties. Alas, the spirits wouldn’t even allow us to do that. Pretty soon it attained a fearsome reputation, and so we closed the doors.”

“Just exactly how many spirits are supposed to inhabit this house anyway?” Shae glanced toward the ceiling and followed the path of the footsteps with her eyes.

“That’s a very good question, and we really don’t know the answer. We’ve had a few psychics visit the home from time to time. The number of spirits they see varies with the psychic. However, I should think no more than eight. We needn’t dwell on that, though. Come on, I’ll show you the kitchen.”

She followed as he led the way. As they entered the room, he explained that although retaining its original look by the clever use of antique wood and stone, they had updated and modernized all the appliances. He showed her the location of the pantry, which they filled with everything she could need or want for several weeks to come. The tour continued as he took her from the kitchen, and then out to the mudroom where they kept the laundry facilities. Then finally, he escorted her to her bedroom. At once, she fell in love with the large four-poster canopy bed, with its rose-colored gossamer curtains tied to each of the large round posts. An elegant handmade quilt covered the mattress.

Before she could try out the softness of the topmost feather mattress, Norman drew her attention away from the bed and over to the spacious connecting bathroom. He said at one time, the bathroom served as the nursery for the Starling family. Shae allowed herself a brief moment to envision the babies the families rocked to sleep within its walls. The vision made her smile.

“We thought you would rather remain on the first floor for convenience sake, and well”—Norman shrugged—”most of the uh, activity is upstairs. Do you—would you like me to show you the rest of the house, or would you prefer to just get settled in and explore it on your own at a later time?”

Shae almost laughed outright at the look of horror on Norman’s face as he asked the question. She could see he wanted nothing to do with the upstairs portion of the house. Especially since the sound of the footsteps had not in any way diminished.

“You know, I think I can handle things from here, and it’s been a long day for both of us. So if you don’t mind, I’ll just go ahead and let you beat that hasty retreat.”

“Oh, bless you, Shae. You are an absolute angel.” Norman produced an ear-to-ear grin. “As expected from all reports, I find you are a lovely and charming woman. I know we’ll get along just fine. All of your suitcases as well as the boxes shipped from Norway should already be in your bedroom.

“Feel free to move things around a bit or add your own possessions to make Starling your home while you are here. There are several pieces of furniture and miscellaneous items in the basement, should you want to use any of those in the place of the ones we have out. Oh, and there is just one more thing I should tell you.”

“Yes?” She raised a brow in question.

“The third floor attic room is locked, and it is better to keep it that way.” His gaze bore into hers as he emphasized his words. “If you decide to replace some of the furniture with something else, please don’t try to store the unwanted pieces up there. Use one of the bedrooms or the basement instead.”

“All right, I’ll remember that.” Shae followed Norman out to the foyer and accepted his extended hand. “Thank you so much for everything. I appreciate all of your help and personal attention today. Your hospitality has made this move much easier than what I anticipated.”

“My pleasure,” he said as he dipped a hand into his pocket and withdrew a set of keys. “Now, these are the keys to all of the doors of Starling, as well as the other structures on the property. Feel free to explore them at your leisure. Some of them are quite lovely.”

“Again, I need to thank you. You are very kind,” she said as she accepted the keys.

“Think nothing of it and Shae—” He leaned a little closer and locked his gaze with hers. “Don’t hesitate to call me if you should feel the need, no matter the day or the time, are we agreed on that?”

“Of course, but please don’t worry about me.” She withdrew her hand to give him a reassuring pat on the back. “I’m going to be fine, really, I am.”

Shae laughed after she made the comment; Norman beat a hasty retreat out to his car, as promised. After closing the door, she stepped into her office and locked away the documents Reuben abandoned on the table. Once she took care of the boxes, she made her way into her bedroom to unpack her things and settle in.

She opened the large empty wardrobe in search of her suitcases and then looked for them on either side of the bed. No luggage. She walked inside the bathroom and found it empty. Odd, she did see Perry lugging her suitcases inside the house, didn’t she? As she recalled he struggled to bring them inside all at once, in fact. Norman confirmed that before leaving as well. After checking the hallway, she went into the drawing room, then to the kitchen, and even the foyer. Out of sheer desperation, she opened the entryway doors thinking that perhaps Perry didn’t bring them all the way inside after all.

As she glanced outside and past the porch, she caught sight of her suitcases and all of their contents strewn chaotically across the front lawn. As she fought to still her rising anger over the petty display, she marched down the porch steps and out to the lawn. She cast her gaze all about, uncertain as to where to begin the daunting task. After a deep breath, she made her way toward the willow tree.

“Welcome to Starling, Shae,” she muttered under her breath.