The Christmas Knot by Barbara Monajem

such lawlessness could exist in England. Softly, she shut the window again.
    What had they seen in the windows—the same windows where Lizzie had walked the night before? Certainly not a ghost. Fuming now, she crossed the room to her door and opened it the tiniest crack. Soon Richard remounted the stairs, with John beside him—John who had gone to bed hours earlier. “Well done,” he said softly.
    “I had help,” John said, grinning.
    She didn’t hear Richard’s reply as they both tiptoed to the picture gallery, and a second later Lizzie appeared, also wide awake. “Back to bed with you both—and quietly so you don’t wake Mrs. White.”
    The children disappeared into their respective bedchambers. Edwina clenched and unclenched her fists, more enraged by the second.
    What a fool she was. She’d almost trusted Richard Ballister—again.
    ~ * ~
    Richard put out the candles in all the sconces and went to his chilly bedchamber. He removed his boots. What a bloody nuisance, but he didn’t blame Teas for accommodating the treasure seekers. It brought custom to the inn, enabling him to hire a maid or two who would ordinarily have worked at the Grange.
    At this time of year in particular, people wanted cheer and feasting and good will—a difficult feat in a village which all too often had been overshadowed with a threat of death. If he did find the damned necklace, he would make it a memorable Christmas for everyone on his estate.
    He took off his stockings and shucked his shirt. Once the ghost was gone, he could hire servants. And with enough servants, he could hold a feast to surpass all feasts, celebrating the end of the curse.
    Footsteps sounded in the corridor, followed by a sharp rap on his bedchamber door. Before he could respond, Edwina White stormed in.
    He should have known it was too good to hope that she’d slept through the disturbance. She shut the door behind herself. “How dare you?” she cried.
    ~ * ~
    For a long moment, those were the only words she could get out. She hadn’t expected to find him half-undressed. She wasn’t used to being confronted by such a powerful, manly chest.
    She’d seen no manly chest at all for years, as a matter of fact, and Howard’s hadn’t been much to look at in any event.
    She closed her eyes to shut out the sight and gathered her rage about her. “I don’t know why I’m surprised. Ghosts, indeed! It’s been a hoax all along, hasn’t it?”
    “Er…”
    “You needn’t bother. I already know the answer. As if it wasn’t despicable enough to cozen me with your stupid tales of ghosts and curses, you drag your poor children out of bed to participate in the charade. Lizzie doesn’t sleepwalk, and if John lacks his customary vigor, it’s because you wake him to drag chains all over the place.”
    “No, Lizzie doesn’t sleepwalk,” he said, “but she enjoys playing ghost to scare off the treasure seekers. We can’t count on the real ghost to make an appearance. It’s an unexpected bonus when she does—as she did tonight.”
    Edwina huffed. “You’ll keep lying until kingdom come, won’t you?”
    “I’m not lying,” Richard said. “As for John, he would be most upset if I didn’t wake him to drag the chains—which I only do when the dog warns me we have intruders. I can’t let Felix roam the grounds anymore because of the attempt to poison him.”
    She turned away, pacing across the room, possessed by agitation. How dare he be so attractive and sound so reasonable?
    “I’ll do what I must to keep the intruders away,” Richard went on. “The house was empty for months, long enough for the news of its vulnerability to spread from village to village. The treasure seekers became so bold that my presence hasn’t entirely deterred them—hence the Yorkshire men who died in the collapse of the tower not long ago.”
    She whirled, glad to have something else to rage about. “You don’t seriously believe the ghost caused that.”
    He spread his