Her weak limbs collapsed into a crouch, and she dropped her forehead to her hands and laughed, catching her breath in hysterical gasps. She’d always had too much imagination for her own good. What a ridiculous way to act—she’d really almost believed the shade of her dead husband had found a way to cross the Atlantic to haunt her. What would he have done, taken an ocean liner? It would have been hard for him—she couldn’t imagine they let ghosts into first class, and Alain had always been a strictly upper decks sort of person. Well, there were legends about ghostly pirate ships, weren’t there? Perhaps there was also a thriving industry in ghostly luxury ocean liners, for the wealthy and discriminating shade.

“Now don’t you start,” she told her reflection as she straightened. “There’s no such thing as ghosts.”

“Actually,” a voice said from behind her, “that’s a matter of opinion.”

Alva threw the hammer and screamed.

CHAPTER FIVE

“It’s all right; it’s just me,” Sam said, dropping the package he’d brought in and pulling Alva into his arms. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Didn’t mean to—didn’t mean to—” Alva pushed away from him furiously, her face completely drained of color and her breath still short and panicked. “So you thought, ‘Ah, there’s a woman in there, I’ll creep up behind her extremely quietly and then shout at her, but not to scare her, just as a friendly gesture,’ did you?”

“I didn’t shout,” he said. He’d knocked, too, but it didn’t seem precisely safe to mention.

“You most certainly did,” she said, crossing her arms. “They probably heard you all the way back in town.”

“You’re right,” he said. “I’m sorry I frightened you.”

She shrugged, glaring at him. “I wouldn’t say ‘frightened,’” she said. “‘Startled,’ perhaps.”

But a slight tremble of her lips told him the truth. He stepped towards her again, intending to do some undefined but comforting thing that would seem clearer once he was closer, but she stepped back and put a shaky hand up. “Quite close enough, thank you.”

She closed her eyes and took two deep breaths before opening them again. “All right.” She shook her head. “All right. Serves me right for getting worked up.”

“Why were you? Worked up, that is. Did you see something?” He tried to keep his enthusiasm from his voice. He didn’t want to seem insensitive.

She shook her head, walking past him to pick up the hammer she’d thrown. It had missed him by about four feet. “Don’t be ridiculous,” she said. “I simply allowed the emptiness of the house to affect me.”

“Was there a feeling of dread? A certainty something was just behind you? Perhaps a chill in the air?”