The Perfect Mistress. Victoria Alexander

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СКАЧАТЬ have had quite enough of this nonsense,” Hermione said. “Do sit up and greet me properly.”

      Why not? It was only a dream. Julia struggled to sit up, and sighed. “Good evening, Hermione.” She yawned. “Or is it morning?”

      “Much better.” As usual, Hermione sat at the foot of her bed. “Now then, this will come as something of a shock as I suspect as you are very nearly as stubborn as I. I fear it runs in our blood.”

      “Oh, fortunate me.”

      “Sarcasm, my dear child, is not becoming in a lady.”

      “My apologies,” Julia muttered, heat rising in her face. As always, she marveled at the vividness of these dreams.

      “Brace yourself, my dear.” Hermione leaned forward and met her gaze directly. “I am not a dream.”

      Julia snorted. “Don’t be absurd. I have been dreaming of you since I began reading your memoirs.” She shook her head. “I cannot believe I am arguing with a dream.”

      “You’re not arguing with a dream. You’re arguing with—dear me, how shall I put this?” Hermione thought for a minute. “There’s really no good way to say it. You’re arguing with a ghost.”

      “A ghost.” She scoffed. “Utter nonsense.”

      Hermione raised a brow. “I assure you, I am quite real. Although real is a relative term I suppose, but I am as real as a ghost can be.”

      Julia studied her closely. “If you’re a ghost, why can’t I see through you?”

      “You could if I wished you to but I don’t. I find that transparent nonsense to be quite unnerving and that’s from my point of view. I can’t imagine how it would be from yours. Why, I might be extremely frightening and I really don’t wish to frighten anyone.” She aimed a stern look at Julia. “But I am tired of being ignored.”

      “I haven’t ignored you.” Julia narrowed her eyes. “If you’re a ghost, why do you look like that?”

      Hermione glanced down. “I think I look very nice. I always did love this dress.”

      It was indeed an exquisite deep blue silk, with dropped shoulders and puffed sleeves, trimmed in lace with small bunches of violets attached here and there.

      “You look like you’re going to a ball.”

      “One never knows,” Hermione murmured.

      “You died when you were in your sixty-seventh year. You don’t look much older than I am.”

      “This is how I appeared when I was eight-and-thirty.” She smoothed her hand over her throat. “My neck had not yet begun to sag, there were only the tiniest wrinkles at the corners of my eyes from laughter. I rather liked them. And my breasts …” She smiled smugly. “My breasts were magnificent, as you can clearly see.”

      Julia smiled in spite of herself. “They do look very nice.”

      “While I was somewhat of a remarkable beauty in my youth—”

      “And humble,” Julia said under her breath.

      “—at eight-and-thirty, I was clever and I was confident and I was strong. All of which creates the kind of beauty that lingers in a man’s eyes and in his dreams. Eight-and-thirty was a very good year for me.” She sighed with the memory. “It is one of the … oh, benefits, I should say, of, well, death that one is allowed to appear as one wishes depending on the occasion, of course.”

      “That’s the most ridiculous thing I ever heard.”

      “Then you have never heard the story about a crowned head of one of those tiny European countries, a scullery maid dressed as a poodle, and a pony. Now that, my dear, was ridiculous.”

      Julia stared. She certainly did have an excellent imagination.

      “But I digress.” Hermione gestured in a nonchalant manner. “Where was I? Oh yes.” Her eyes narrowed. “I am not a dream, I am not something you invented. I am not a result of indigestion or imagination. I am a ghost like Scrooge’s Marley or Hamlet’s father.”

      “Ah-hah.” Julia aimed a triumphant finger at the alleged specter. “They were both fictional, concocted from man’s imagination as surely as mine has conjured you.”

      Hermione’s brows drew together in a forbidding frown. “Lord Mountdale was right, I see.”

      Julia narrowed her eyes. “What do you mean?”

      “Why, he found you most annoying.” Hermione’s expression brightened. “And how would I know that if I were not a ghost? If I have not been watching over you?”

      “You would know that because I know that.” She shrugged. “It was obvious.” Indeed, she’d never met anyone she was as certain disliked her as much as Lord Mountdale did.

      “Even to the dead?”

      “Apparently.”

      “He is dashing, though.”

      Julia shrugged. “If you like that sort.”

      “What woman in her right mind doesn’t like that sort? The sort that is tall and handsome with piercing blue eyes that seem to caress you with every look—”

      “They did not!” Although why would her dream say they had if they hadn’t?

      “And his hands. Did you notice his hands? You can tell a lot about a man by the size of his hands. And Lord Mountdale’s hands—”

      “That’s quite enough!” Odd, Julia couldn’t remember noticing his hands but obviously she had. “This is absurd.”

      “Not as absurd as when Lady Ridgemont had her portrait painted dressed as a mermaid.” Hermione shook her head. “Sea green was not the woman’s color and fish scales are never attractive.”

      Julia glared. “You’re digressing again.”

      “I am, aren’t I? I do hate it when I do that.” Hermione thought for a moment. “I was about to mention that in addition to his handsome face and his ha—”

      “Stop that!”

      Hermione continued without pause. “He is extremely wealthy and would make someone an excellent husband.”

      “Would he indeed?” Was Julia really thinking such a thing? Surely she must be if the idea would surface in her dreams. Still, it was a revelation she was not willing to accept. Why, she didn’t like the man and he didn’t like her. Nor did he like her lamp.

      “The gentleman has everything you need. Marriage to him would solve all your problems. And you could scarcely do better.”

      “Marriage to Lord Mountdale is out of the question. Furthermore he has nothing to do with this discussion.” Julia directed a firm look toward Hermione. “We were discussing your … your СКАЧАТЬ