“No,” he said firmly. “I don’t. I don’t believe in ghosts, Bram.”
“Lark told people she heard things at night. Do you think she was lying?” I pressed.
Sam shook his head. “No. I just don’t believe she heard a ghost.”
I was getting frustrated. I couldn’t understand why he was being so stubborn.
“Well, thanks for walking with me this far,” I said, done with the pointless conversation. I handed him the bag I’d been carrying for him. I hated myself for feeling so disappointed. “I’ll be fine on my own from here,” I said, and left Sam standing at the top of the hill.
I let myself into the manor and snuck up the stairs toward the rose room. I made it as far as the landing of the grand staircase before James called out from behind me.
“There you are! Where have you been? I’ve been looking all over for you this morning.”
I turned to face him, and I was surprised by how bad he looked. There were stains on his shirt, and his fly was half-down. Everything about him looked rumpled. Either he’d slept in his clothing or he hadn’t slept at all.
“I went down to the village to get a coffee,” I answered vaguely.
“What’s in the bag?” James asked as he started up the stairs toward me. “Doesn’t look like coffee.”
I glanced down at the bag in my hand. The white plastic was so thin, it was almost translucent. He could see exactly what was inside it.
“Bram!” a voice called out from the front door. “Sorry! I must have handed you the wrong shopping bag.”
Sam was standing below in the entryway, holding up a bag filled with lemons.
“You two were together just now?” James’s gaze passed back and forth between us.
“We bumped into each other outside the hardware store,” Sam said as he bounded up the stairs past my uncle. “Bram kept me company while we walked up the hill.”
“Those for the manor?” James asked casually, nodding at the carbon monoxide detectors in the bag I’d been carrying.
“Nope, for our farm,” Sam answered before I could open my mouth to speak. “Mom got a new generator after the last big storm, but she’s worried it might leak gas into the house.”
“And I had no idea you were such a fan of lemons,” James told me.
“I mix the juice with salt and make a scrub for my face,” I said, relieved that a lie had come so easily. “The dry heat in the manor has been murder on my skin.”
James didn’t look like he bought it, but what could he say?
“See you later, Bram,” Sam announced, and headed back to the door. “Goodbye, Mr. Howland.”
James didn’t say a word. He kept his eyes on me the whole time.
“You certainly seem to have enchanted the young men of Louth,” he said once the door had closed behind Sam.
I felt myself blushing against my will. “Excuse me?” I asked. I didn’t know how else to respond.
“I’m sorry,” James said. “I didn’t intend to embarrass you. I’m just surprised that you’re already putting yourself out there.”
I stared at him blankly. I couldn’t understand what he was doing.
“I heard you witnessed some trouble at the Turner house last night,” he said. “You weren’t injured, were you?”
“No,” I confirmed.
“I thought you told me you weren’t interested in Nolan.”
“I’m not,” I said. I was getting really tired of talking about Nolan.
“So how did you end up spending the evening with him?”
Where was this bizarre interrogation coming from? “He knocked on the door around seven o’clock and said you and his dad were out of town,” I said. “Miriam wasn’t here, and he invited me over for dinner.”
“He cooks, does he?” I realized that I couldn’t tell if my uncle was smiling or sneering. It was difficult to believe I was talking to the same person I’d known when I was little. That Uncle James had always been laughing. He’d acted like he didn’t have a care in the world, and when I was with him, my cares vanished, too.
But that James had disappeared long ago. The expectations of others had been too much to bear, and business burdens had squeezed the life right out of him. The man left behind was hard and bitter.
“I believe someone else did the cooking,” I told him evenly.
“Well, you should probably let Miriam make your dinners from now on,” James said. “I hear the Turners received some unexpected guests last night. I didn’t mention the incident when I spoke to your mother earlier, but I’m not sure I can neglect to inform her the next time something happens.”
I suddenly felt cold. “You spoke with my mother?” Had she told him I’d asked about the gas leak?
“Yes. She called shortly after you ran out of the manor this morning. She wanted me to check my medicine cabinets. She said you’d been talking nonsense on the phone, and she was worried you may have suffered a relapse. I informed her that all medications are currently under lock and key and I’d seen no evidence of drug use on your part.”
“Thank you,” I said cautiously.
“You are clean, are you not?” he asked.
“I am,” I assured him.
“There’s no need to schedule a blood test, is there?”
“No.” I could feel myself shrinking.
“Good,” James replied with a smile. “Because if your mother suspects you’re using drugs again, do you know what she’ll do?”
I assumed the question was rhetorical, so I didn’t answer.
“What will she do, Bram?” James pressed.
“She’ll send me back to rehab,” I said.
“That’s right. Which would be a real shame. I know you’ve only been here a few days, but you seem to be getting along so splendidly. You’re happy in Louth, aren’t you?”
“Yes,” I said, trying my best to smile.
“Excellent.” He pulled me into a hug that didn’t feel reassuring. “What on earth did you say to your mother that made her think you might have relapsed?” he asked.
Tears gathered at the corners of my eyes. “I don’t know,” I told him.
He let go of me and took me by the shoulders, smiling. “Well, let’s let bygones be bygones. What do you say?”