“If I’d realized how cute you are when you’re excited, I’d have started planning trips like this ages ago,” Anthony Benton said, sliding his hand to give Teag’s thigh a squeeze. The rumble of the train along the tracks jostled their seats as the English countryside flashed by outside the windows.
“It’s my first international trip, and we’re in the UK, and we’re going to a castle,” Teag Logan replied, grinning from ear to ear. “And, we’re engaged.” He couldn’t help waggling the fingers on his left hand, where the platinum band with the embedded baguette diamond sparkled as it caught the light, just like the matching ring on Anthony’s hand. “Best birthday presents ever.”
Anthony chuckled, a deep, rich sound that made Teag happy inside. He and Anthony had been a couple for several years, but the proposal had happened just a few months ago, at the birthday party Anthony had thrown for Teag. The party itself—with all their close friends—and the trip to a castle for Christmas would have been amazing enough as a present, but having Anthony pop the question put Teag over the moon.
“I hope you like the castle. Friends of my parents stayed there, and when they talked about the place, I just knew it would be perfect for you,” Anthony replied. “And the best part? It’s not supposed to be very haunted. So you can really take time off from your other job.”
Teag reached over and twined his fingers with Anthony’s. Anthony was a lawyer in his family’s law firm, and he had the blond, broad-shouldered, prep school boy-next-door looks to match. His family was old Charleston money, and Bentons had been living in the tony South of Broad neighborhood since before the Civil War. Teag, on the other hand, came from a solidly suburban middle-class background. His dark hair with its asymmetrical haircut gave him a bit of a skater boy vibe, although he had been close to finishing his Ph.D. in History before a summer job changed his life.
“I’m ready for a break from anything haunted or cursed,” Teag swore. He leaned in and whispered confidentially, “And the only thing going bump in the night should be us.”
Teag’s day job was assistant store manager for Trifles and Folly, an antiques and curio shop in historic, haunted Charleston, South Carolina. The shop had been in business over three hundred years, almost from the founding of the city itself, and had a reputation for fine estate jewelry, silver tea sets, and vintage decorative items. But Trifles and Folly had a secret—and so did Teag. The store’s real mission was to get cursed and haunted objects out of the wrong hands and save the world from supernatural threats. Teag’s Weaver magic—being able to weave spells into cloth—earned him a place among a small group of allies who kept Charleston—and the world—safe from monsters, dark magic, vengeful ghosts, and much worse.
“I didn’t think you’d mind that I skipped booking any ghost tours,” Anthony replied. “You’d feel like you were working, and the tour guides would probably be miffed if you banished their source of income.”
“I’m totally up for a ghost-free vacation,” Teag swore. “Bring on the roasted chestnuts, figgy pudding, hot tea, and partridges in pear trees!”
Despite the overnight flight and early morning, Teag felt as bouncy as a kid on Christmas morning. Anthony had been to Europe several times with his family growing up, but Teag’s family’s idea of a big vacation involved Disney World or a national park. He’d used his passport for a couple of long weekends in the Caribbean and longed to see the places in person that he had studied in college and grad school, but the circumstances had never seemed right. Until now.
“I’m already thinking that vacations might make the best anniversary presents,” Anthony teased. “If I’d have realized you had a touch of wanderlust, I’d have done this before now.”
Teag shrugged. “It’s not exactly wanderlust as much as I’ve read so much about certain places—like London—in novels or studied them with my classes that it’s exciting to see them for real.”
“It makes you happy. That’s enough for me,” Anthony replied, leaning over to brush a kiss against Teag’s temple.
The three-hour train ride to Caynham-on-Ledwyche passed quickly. When he and Anthony weren’t comparing thoughts about the things they wanted to see at the castle and in the nearby village, they were people-watching as their fellow travelers made their way to the commissary car for tea, snacks, or sandwiches. Teag could have sworn that even the cold box lunch tasted better because it was part of the adventure.
After the bustle of Heathrow, the clamor of the Tube, and the clatter of Paddington Station, the small platform at Caynham-on-Ledwyche felt quiet and unhurried. Teag hoped that was a sign for the rest of the vacation.
“As soon as we have the luggage, we’ll get a cab to the castle,” Anthony said, heading toward where the porters were unloading the suitcases. They each had a medium bag, a small roller one, and a backpack, and although Teag had gone on longer vacations with less luggage, the cold of a Shropshire winter meant packing heavier clothing as well as bringing a warm coat, hat, scarf, and gloves.
A cab pulled up to meet them as they came to the curb with their luggage. “Caynham Castle,” Anthony replied to the driver’s question as he loaded the bags into the back.
“You’ve come at a nice time of year,” the man said. He wore a brown tweed cap and a tan canvas jacket, and Teag guessed the man was in his sixties. “Lots to do around here, especially now. You fellows going to stay for the Ball?”
“We’re not sure yet,” Teag replied. He and Anthony had talked about the Frost and Flame Ball, which would be just a few days before Christmas. While it sounded like it would be a wonderful event, neither of them were quite sure how open the rest of the guests might be to a same-sex couple joining in on the dance floor.
“Better make up your mind soon,” the cabbie advised, stowing the last of their luggage.
Teag climbed into the backseat, and they took off with a rumble. He figured the vintage cab had to be at least forty years old.
“I hear they’re almost sold out.” He adjusted the visor against the angle of the sun. “My name’s Henry, by the way.”
“I’m Teag, and this is my fiancé, Anthony.” Teag tried not to let a hint of challenge seep into his voice. He could have just stuck to names and left out their relationship. In some situations, that would be the wise thing to do, although both he and Anthony had been out and proud all their adult lives. But the new, shiny ring and the excitement of the proposal were too hard to resist. Teag found himself bracing for Henry’s reaction.
“Well, congratulations,” Henry replied without missing a beat. “If you decide to come back for your honeymoon, ask about one of those tower suites. I hear they’re really fancy.”
Teag had already pored over the castle’s website and had decided to check out the suites if they enjoyed staying at the castle.
“What’s your recommendation on things to do around here?” Anthony asked, clasping hands with Teag. Both men looked out the side windows as they drove through town. Teag decided he’d never get used to being on the “wrong” side of the road and tried to stop wincing every time a car passed.
“Well, now. There’s the Boar and Knight Pub, which is as fine a place as any you’ll find anywhere in Shropshire, I wager,” Henry replied. “Good place for a pint or two, and their Shepherd’s Pie is tasty. Although, mind your wallet if you decide to play a round of darts with the locals.”
“I’ll definitely steer clear,” Anthony replied with a laugh. He elbowed Teag and shot him a look that Teag interpreted without a problem. Just because I’m good at throwing knives doesn’t mean I’d take on the town’s hustlers at darts.
“If you’re looking for a nice bite at tea time, there’s the tea shop up at the Castle. It’s very good. But the Ewe & Ply—that’s a wool shop—has a lovely tea room too. It’s worth checking out both,” Henry added with a wink. “Can’t have too many scones, I always say.”
“Oh, wow.” Teag couldn’t help himself as they drove past the half-timbered shops that looked like something out of a Dickens novel, interspersed with other stores built from brick and stone. The cut-stone parish church stood out, with its bell tower and stained glass windows, anchoring the village for over five hundred years.
“Back in Charleston, we think something’s old if it’s over three hundred years,” Teag murmured. “But a lot of the ‘new’ stuff here is already older than that!”
“Aye, we often joke that we have furniture layin’ about that’s older than most of your cities,” Henry teased. “All in good fun, of course.”
“I can’t help feeling like everything should have a velvet rope around it and ‘do not touch’ signs,” Teag confided.
“Now where would be the fun in that?” Henry said with a laugh. “Over at the Boar and Knight, they’ve been serving up pints to thirsty folks since 1415. Yer lookin’ at one of the last two thatch-roofed buildings in the town.”
“Oh look, Teag,” Anthony chimed in. “Right next to the pub is an antique shop. We can stop by tomorrow.”
“I’m on holiday,” Teag replied, shaking his head. “Not talking shop, remember?”
“If you like old stuff, we’ve got it,” Henry said. “In fact, someone just discovered several needlepoint samplers tucked away in a closet that were done by one of the daughters of the family who owns the castle back in the day. Gave them back so they could be on display. You never know what might be lurking in a drawer or the back of a shelf!”
That was very true, Teag thought, but not in the way Henry thought. In Teag’s experience, those tucked away oddities tended to be bad luck.
The town square sat right in front of an old stone bridge across Ledwyche Brook. A tall fir tree adorned with electric lights and baubles stood proudly in the center of the square. Ribbons and evergreen cuttings graced the lampposts, and all the shops they had passed seemed to have gotten the holiday spirit because their windows were bedecked with electric candles or light strings, bunting in red, green, and white, dangling snowflakes and candy canes.
“Now look sharp, boys,” Henry said as the car turned from the main road onto the driveway. “We’re almost to the castle.”
Teag caught his breath as the outer walls came into view. The tall buff-colored stone walls rose high, originally built for defense. Henry drove through the first gate, and both Teag and Anthony murmured when the main castle came into view.
“It’s beautiful,” Teag said, taking in the thick walls, mullioned windows, and stately towers. “Just like in all the stories.”
“Wait ‘til you get a chance to explore,” Henry told them. “I’ve brought the missus up here a few times over the years, for birthdays and such. Down in the garden, there’s what they call a ‘folly’—it’s a right nice place to sneak a snog,” he advised with a wink. “Not to mention the conservatory, which might warm you up a bit with how hot they keep it for those exotic plants and all.”
Henry pulled into the car park to the right of the castle. Up ahead, Teag saw where a bridge crossed a dry moat and led through a narrow gateway into the inner bailey.
“I can’t go closer—not safe for cars,” he told them. “But if you give the front desk a ring to let them know you’re here, they’ll send out a man with a golf cart to take you and your luggage in.” Henry got out and helped pull their bags out of the back.
“Now this is real important,” Henry said with a serious expression. “If you two want to make a proper go of things, you need to find the original gargoyle. The legend says that if you kiss in front of the original gargoyle—not just any old one, mind you—that you will find and keep your true love.” He gave them a broad wink. “Me, I don’t like to take chances, so I say, kiss in front of every gargoyle you see. Better safe than sorry!”
They waved goodbye as Henry drove off, and moments later, a white golf cart headed their way, driven by a teenager wearing a bellman’s jacket and hat.
“Welcome to the Castle,” the boy said. Teag figured he was probably seventeen, eighteen at the most. “Let me get your bags.”
Teag and Anthony helped, and before long, they were headed for the check-in office, with the two of them riding in the back seat.
“I’m Patrick,” the young man said. “Bellman, cart driver, unplugger of drains, and stomper of spiders—not that we ever need that sort of thing,” he added quickly. “But I’m sort of the jack-of-all-trades around here, so if you need something, just give a yell, and it’ll probably be me they send.”
“Are you from the village?” Teag asked, trying to remember how involved the Mortimer family—the owners of the castle—were with the actual day-to-day-operations.
“Aye. My mum’s the manager of the gift shop, has been for thirty years,” Patrick said proudly. “She got me a job here because she was afraid clearing tables down at the pub would be a bad influence to my impressionable youth,” he said, turning so they could catch his dramatic eye roll.
“Your mom sounds like a smart woman,” Teag said with a laugh.
“She does all right,” Patrick agreed. “And Priscilla Donovan, at the front desk, will take good care of you. Keep your eyes sharp, and you might get a glimpse of the Earl, Sir Edward Mortimer. He’s a busy bloke, what with the castle and a few other businesses and that new microbrewery of his in town. Here’s a tip—if you go down to the brewery and you see a fellow behind the counter wearing an apron that says ‘Earl,’ he’s the real deal. But you don’t have to bow or nothin’. Not anymore.”
“Microbrewery?” Anthony’s ears certainly pricked up at that, Teag thought.
“They say it’s pretty good. Not that I’d know myself or nothing, if my mom were to ask,” Patrick added.
“I’ll stay here with the cart while you gents check in,” Patrick said, pointing toward the main lobby. “Then come back out, and I’ll drive you to your room. We’re a bit spread out if you didn’t notice.”
“I think the room I reserved is on the wall of the inner bailey,” Anthony said, turning to try to orient himself from the map. “Dower apartment area. Second floor.”
“Your second floor or our second floor?” Patrick asked. “There’s a difference, you know. You count the ground floor as one, and we don’t.”
“Um, yours?” Anthony replied, sounding unsure.
“Go get your key, and I’ll make sure you get to the right place,” Patrick promised.
Teag and Anthony walked into the reception area, and Teag couldn’t help swiveling his head from side to side to take in the Mortimer family coat of arms, several flags, and some crossed swords, as well as the rough stone walls and dark wooden check-in counter. Evergreen swags hung from the counter and adorned the doorways. Sparkling electric twinkle lights wrapped around the large fir wreath that hung over the mantle of a huge fireplace, and instrumental Christmas music played in the background.
Anthony stepped up to talk with the vivacious woman behind the desk, whose brown ponytail swished back and forth with every movement. Teag guessed she was Priscilla, and she looked like she could handle any complications that might arise. He really hoped that none did, but already Patrick, Henry, and Priscilla made him feel like they had friends here.
“Priscilla said we should try the tea room for lunch, and then we have a number of places to eat for dinner, including the pub and the microbrewery,” Anthony told him.
“This place is wonderful,” Teag said, leaning over to give Anthony a peck on the cheek. “Thank you so much for planning all this.”
Anthony’s big smile warmed Teag’s heart. “I was hoping you’d love it.”
“I love you. Everything else is icing on the cake.”
Patrick took one look at the room number, and then they headed off in the golf cart toward the bridge. “Out here where the gift shop, tea room, and front desk is, that was the outer bailey,” Patrick called over his shoulder like a tour guide. “Across the moat and through the gate is the inner bailey, and there’s even a private garden, near the keep. When the castle got attacked, all the people would fall back to the walled yard, and if things got real bad, to the keep. Like in Lord of the Rings. Only, without orcs.”
“And did it get attacked?” Anthony asked.
Patrick nodded vigorously. “Oh, yeah. Back during the War of the Roses and all. Lots more than just that. Goes all the way back to 1282, so you know it’s seen some stories in its time.”
Teag wondered what his best friend, Cassidy Kincaide, would make of that. She was a psychometric, which meant her magic could read the history of objects by touching them. Museums could give her the willies, and her abilities had unlocked the secrets of more than one historic home back in Charleston. For once, he was glad his gift was unlikely to trigger unless Caynham had haunted tapestries hanging around.
“You’ll want to make sure you see the decorations in the Great Hall and the folly,” Patrick told them as he trundled their bags into the elevator. “The chapel’s nice, too. And of course, everything in town is done up. But if you’re going to the Frost and Flame Ball, that’s where it’ll really be fancy. That big tent in the outer bailey is part of all that.”
“We haven’t made up our minds yet,” Teag said. “But it sounds nice.”
“If you decide to go, Priscilla can fix you up with tickets,” Patrick assured him. “If there are any left.”
Teag and Anthony thanked Patrick and watched him drive away in the cart. Their suite had a bedroom and a living room. The comfortable furnishings were an elegant melding of style and practicality. While Teag doubted that any of the guest rooms were outfitted with valuable antiques, he knew from his work at Trifles and Folly that the eclectic assembly of pieces in their suite spanned several eras. Some were good reproductions, while others were much older. It gave the suite a lived-in feel, with the continuity of pieces being re-used and added to over generations.
“What do you think?” Anthony asked, with an anxious glance, as if he were afraid Teag might be disappointed.
“I think it’s perfect.” Teag walked up to him and set his hands on Anthony’s hips, pulling him in for a kiss. “You’re perfect. Everything is perfect.”
Just then, Anthony’s stomach rumbled loudly. “Lunch would really be perfect,” Anthony deadpanned.
Teag gave a wicked glance toward the plump, down comforter on the thick mattress of the four-poster bed. “And I’m thinking that bed is going to be perfect for all kinds of things once we go eat and find our way around.”
“Mm. I like the sound of that.” Anthony turned in for another kiss, but he couldn’t deny his rumbling stomach.
“Come on,” he said, tugging Teag by the wrist. “Let’s go eat and do some exploring.”
The castle’s Lady Neville Tea Room was close by, and Teag followed Anthony inside. Monogrammed china cups and saucers sat ready atop white tablecloths. A front counter case held a delectable array of treats, and the chalkboard overhead listed enough varieties of tea to make Teag’s head spin.
“Is it too late for high tea?” Teag asked.
“You’re just in time,” the efficient woman in a taupe twinset replied. “I’m Helen. Follow me.” She led them to a table for two in the corner, where they had a good view of the rest of the tea room.
“I hope you’re hungry because our high tea is more than a snack,” she advised. “First, you pick your tea—one pot per person, so you can each have a different flavor.” She placed a sheet of paper in front of them, listing all the teas Teag had seen on the chalkboard.
“First, there are four varieties of tea sandwiches—cucumber, egg salad, cheese and pickle, and smoked salmon. After that, there are the sweets—apricot scones with clotted cream, lemon tarts, macaroons, strawberry jam cake, and the like. Then if you’re still hungry, there’s a slice of layer cake. We have three varieties—changes each day. Today it’s blackberry and coconut cake, chocolate biscuit cake, and a Battenberg cake. Can’t really go wrong with any of them,” she added.
“It all looks so good.” Teag figured they would have to come back several times to try all the specialties. He and Anthony debated over the tea selection, finally choosing a Darjeeling and an Earl Gray.
“I always thought afternoon tea was a little nibble between meals—like a few cookies,” Anthony confessed. “We may need to eat a later dinner.”
Their early departure and the hours on the train made them more hungry than they had realized, and they made short work of the small sandwiches, slowing only as they came to the end of the sweets.
“I really want the blackberry and coconut cake, but I also want to see what a Battenberg cake tastes like,” Teag said. “I’ve seen those people on the baking show make them, and I’m curious.”
“Then let’s get one of each,” Anthony replied. “They’re included, and we don’t have to finish them.”
“We can walk it all off when we go exploring,” Teag agreed with a grin.
When they finally finished, Teag thought he might never need to eat again. They thanked the hostess, assured her they would return, and then headed out to walk the perimeter of the castle walls before checking out the Great Hall.
“Keep an eye out,” the hostess said. “You might see our ghost, although she usually only re-enacts her tragic fall from the tower during the summer.”
“I knew there had to be one,” Anthony said with a chuckle. Teag just groaned.
The cool air helped to settle their food, and when the wind picked up, Teag felt it nip his nose and bite his cheeks. He was glad for the warm gloves, hat, and scarf, things he rarely needed back in Charleston.
“Look how thick the walls are,” Anthony remarked. “The oldest buildings back home are like that too. Built to last.”
Teag and Anthony chatted as they walked around the outer bailey and then crossed the bridge back to the inner bailey. Teag eyed the castle architecture and pointed out things he remembered studying when he had been working on his history degree.
“Keeping up with one of the old houses in Charleston is an expensive proposition,” Anthony said. “I can’t imagine what it’s like trying to do the upkeep on a castle, but the Mortimers have done it up nicely.”
Without warning, Teag pulled Anthony in for a kiss. He grinned at Anthony’s surprise. “Technically, that’s a grotesque,” he said and pointed up toward the roof’s edge, where a squat stone figure glowered down at them, so ugly it was cute. “If it’s a waterspout, it’s a gargoyle. If it’s just decoration, it’s a grotesque. I’m not taking any chances on which one is original,” he said, tapping Anthony on the nose.
When they finally reached the Great Hall, Teag welcomed the warmth. Everything was done up for Christmas, with evergreen boughs, red ribbons, fairy lights, and gold bells. A huge fir tree nearly reached the ceiling, and Teag could only imagine how much more decorating would happen before the night of the ball.
“It said on the website that the mother of the current Earl took that hand-blown glass tree topper down into the air raid shelters during World War II,” Teag added. “She said she wasn’t going to let the Nazis ruin Christmas!”
“It’s pretty fantastic,” Anthony said, slipping an arm around Teag. “Look at that ceiling!”
Teag craned his neck. “It’s called ‘hammerbeam,’ and it’s an English Gothic style of open timber roof truss,” he said. “See the kind of stuff I remember from my classes?”
Hand-cut beams arched downward at intervals, while still others formed arches along the flat of the timber ceiling, embellished at the corners with intricate woodcutting. It reminded Teag of the ceiling of the great hall in the Harry Potter movies.
“I wish they could really make candles float in the air,” Teag said with a sigh. “But I guess twinkle lights are almost as good.” He took in a deep breath. “I love the smell of a real Christmas tree.”
“And the fireplace looks big enough to roast a boar—or maybe an ox,” Anthony said, with a nod toward the huge opening in the stone wall with its carved firebox and ornate mantle. “I could stand up inside and not hit my head. And I bet that if I spread my arms wide, I still wouldn’t touch on either side.”
“Come on,” Teag said. “There’s more to see in the solar and conservatory.” He led Anthony by the hand out of the Great Hall through an archway into two adjoining glass-enclosed rooms. Christmas lights twinkled in the now-dry central fountain and wrapped around the potted shrubs. Poinsettias, icicles, ribbons, and tinsel turned the greenhouse rooms into a wonderland.
Anthony hauled Teag in for a kiss under a ball of mistletoe tied with a red velvet ribbon. “Turnabout’s fair play,” he said.
“This is so beautiful,” Teag gushed when they headed back through the main hall. “And there are a few of the other rooms open for display if we go this way.” He led them toward Bride’s Tower, where two sitting rooms on the third floor were decorated and furnished as the castle would have looked during the 1920s. From the colors, fabrics, and scale of the furniture, it was clear that one room was meant for women and the other for men.
“So this would have been the way it looked right around World War I,” Anthony mused, reading a sign near the door. “Their Downton Abbey period.”
“I love that show. So elegant. And the old miniseries we watched of Brideshead Revisited? If I could have tailored suits like those, I might not mind giving up my jeans,” Teag gushed.
“Maybe we’ll have to throw a Gatsby party for Halloween next year if the spooks give you the night off,” Anthony teased. “Just thinking of you turned out like that is giving me all kinds of naughty ideas.” He leaned against Teag, brushing his groin against Teag’s leg to let him know exactly what kind of thoughts were going through his mind.
“I like the way you think,” Teag purred.
The more masculine of the two rooms had dark wood wainscoting and upholstery in rich emerald and sapphire hues. Brass fittings and etched glass shades accentuated the wall sconces and table lamps. Leather-bound books filled the shelves, along with display cases of watches, silver cigar boxes, monogrammed flasks, and a taxidermied lion that was likely a trophy from safari in Africa. It was easy to imagine well-off men sitting down with cigars and good Scotch to discuss the news of the day or play a few hands of cards.
“This is so far beyond ‘man cave’ I’m not sure what to call it,” Anthony remarked. “But I guess it’s not that different from what some of the big plantation houses had. For as nice as this is, I’m glad things have changed. I like our friends, and I’d hate to have to split everyone up instead of being able to all hang out together.”
The ladies’ sitting room had high-backed upholstered couches and wing chairs arranged in conversation groupings, with side tables to hold drinks. The furniture was roped off for display only, and glass covered the bookshelves, protecting both the books and an assortment of family personal items and trinkets from around the world.
Teag felt a pull toward a framed piece of hand-embroidered fabric. It was a sampler, the kind done by young women learning to practice various stitching and designs common at the time. But as soon as Teag saw it, he felt traces of the maker’s magic—old, faint, and still potent.
“What’s wrong?” Anthony laid a hand on Teag’s shoulder. “You’ve got that look.”
Teag managed a smile. “Nothing bad. It’s just that whoever did that embroidery had my kind of gift. Weaver magic.”
“You can pick up on that, after all these years?” A note next to the frame said that the needlepoint had been done by Lillian Mortimer in 1916.
“Uh-huh,” Teag replied, distracted as he read the rest of the notecard. “So Lillian was one of two daughters to the Mortimer family who lived in the castle around the time of the First World War. She and her older sister, Mabel, would have been in their late teens or early twenties when the war started. It ran longer over here—the war. In the States, we think of it as just 1918, but it started in 1914 in Europe.” He couldn’t help being a history nerd, and thankfully, Anthony shared his interest.
“From what we’ve watched on the History Channel, that war pretty much broke the aristocracy, didn’t it?” Anthony replied. “The death toll was so high—wiped out most of an entire generation of men. I can’t even begin to imagine what it must have been like.”
Teag shivered, although the room was warm. Lillian’s needlework held both power and emotions. Now that Teag’s gift had tuned in, he could sense sadness, grief, loneliness, and anxiety that made his heart pound.
“Teag? Hey!”
Anthony’s voice brought him out of his thoughts, and Teag stepped back. “I’m okay. I just could pick up some feelings from the magic Lillian used. I don’t think she was very happy.”
“It must have felt like the world had gone mad during the war. I don’t imagine most people were happy,” Anthony replied.
Lillian’s magic had brought Teag’s ability to the forefront, and as he walked around the room with Anthony, he gently probed other objects like a needlepoint pillow and a small tapestry near the fireplace. None of them held any magic of their own.
But when he came to the display case with a gold and pearl hair comb, an ivory fan, and a black, enameled cigarette holder, Teag recoiled as he glimpsed a gray, transparent figure near the case.
“More magic?” Anthony asked in a whisper, glancing around to make sure they were alone.
Teag shook his head. “No. There’s a spirit attached to those pieces, I’m sure of it. Maybe not the one they told us about at the tea room, but it’s definitely a ghost. And she’s not friendly.”