Priceless by Mariah Stewart

Author:Mariah Stewart
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Pocket Books

12

“RACHEL, FOR heaven’s sake, what are you doing?” Norman stood in the darkened doorway, wrapping the ties from his striped robe around his waist.

A stunned Rachel turned toward the sound of his voice, but before she could utter a word, Sam appeared at the opposite end of the balcony.

“Okay, Norman, we have to have a little talk,” he was saying as he walked toward them.

It was then that Rachel realized that Norman wasn’t wearing his glasses. Finally, a chance to see his eyes. She took one step forward, just as he took one step back.

“Sam. What’s wrong?” Norman reached into his pocket and pulled out the dark glasses. He stepped out of the shadows as his eyes disappeared behind the frames.

Damn! Rachel thought, momentarily distracted.

“What’s wrong? Spying on your guests is wrong, Norman,” Sam said with characteristic calm.

“Sam, it wasn’t . . .” Rachel began.

“. . . and I don’t know how you got back up here before I did, unless you found that secret door after all.”

“Sam!” Rachel grabbed him by the arm. “It wasn’t Norman.”

“Excuse me.” Norman folded his arms across his chest. “Who wasn’t me?”

“Rachel, there’s no one else here,” Sam reminded her.

“I think there just might be,” Rachel said softly.

“What is this all about?” Norman demanded.

“Rachel and I were . . . talking . . . outside of her room a few minutes ago. I looked over her shoulder and saw someone down on the lawn, near the trees, watching us. I assumed it was you,” Sam told him.

“I assure you it was not. And there is no one else here, except for Mrs. Thurston, who sleeps like the dead.”

“Close enough,” Rachel told them. “It was Trinity.”

Both men turned to stare at her.

“At least, that’s who I think it was. She sort of . . . evaporated . . . before I could get a look at her face. Not that I know what her face looks like. But she was wearing a long pink ball gown, and we know that Trinity liked pink . . .” Rachel’s voice trailed off, as she began to realize how silly she sounded.

“Rachel, are you saying you thought you saw a ghost?” Norman asked.

“Or did you see someone dressed like a woman of Trinity’s time?” Sam offered what he thought would be a reasonable explanation.

“No, it was a ghost, Sam. People don’t evaporate.”

“I don’t believe in ghosts, Rachel.”

“Neither do I, Sam.” Rachel sighed. “But I’m telling you what I saw.”

“It had to have been some type of illusion.”

Rachel rolled her eyes. “And who, might I ask, would have been able to have pulled off such an illusion? And why would anyone go to such trouble?”

“I don’t know, but it makes more sense than you telling me you saw my great-great-grandmother—who’s been dead for more than a hundred years—watching us from the lawn.” Sam turned to Norman and asked, “You’ve been living here for several years, Norman. Have you seen any ghosts?”

“No, no, I haven’t. Interesting that she came tonight,

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