A Philadelphia mansion plays host to uninvited death
1777: In the throes of the Revolutionary War, Landon Mansion is commandeered by British Lord Butcher Bedford. He stabs Lucy Tarletonwho spurned his king and his loveleaving her to die in her fathers arms.
Now: After the days final tour, docent Allison Leigh makes her rounds while locking upand finds a colleague slumped over Bedfords desk, impaled on his own replica bayonet.
Resident ghosts may be the stock-in-trade of stately Philadelphia homes, but Allisona noted historianis indignant at the prospect of ghost hunters investigating this apparent murder.
Agent Tyler Montague knows his hauntings and his history. But while Allison is skeptical of the newcomer, a second mysterious murder occurs. Has Butcher Bedford resurfaced? Or is there another malevolent force at work in Landon Mansion? Wary, yet deeply attracted, Allison has to trust in Tyler and work with him to discover just what uninvited guestdead or alivehas taken over the house. Or their lives could become history!
Praise for the novels of Heather Graham
Graham deftly weaves elements of mystery, the paranormal and romance into a tight plot that will keep the reader guessing at the true nature of the killers evil.
Publishers Weekly on The Unseen
Suspenseful and dark. The culture and history surrounding San Antonio and the Alamo are described in detail. The transitions between past and present flow seamlessly, and the main characters are interesting and their connection to one another is believable.
RT Book Reviews on The Unseen
If you like mixing a bit of the creepy with a dash of sinister and spine-chilling reading with your romance, be sure to read Heather Grahams latestGraham does a great job of blending just a bit of paranormal with real, human evil.
Miami Herald on Unhallowed Ground
The paranormal elements are integral to the unrelentingly suspenseful plot, the characters are likable, the romance convincing and, in the wake of Hurricane Katrina, Grahams atmospheric depiction of a lost city is especially poignant.
Booklist on Ghost Walk
Grahams rich, balanced thriller sizzles with equal parts suspense, romance and the paranormalall of it nail-biting.
Publishers Weekly on The Vision
An incredible storyteller.
Los Angeles Daily News
Great writing and excellent characters make Wicked a terrific read The undercurrent of mystery and suspense will keep readers riveted.
Romance Reviews Today
The
Uninvited
Heather
Graham
www.mirabooks.co.uk
To the great city of Philadelphia, and to my favorite Pennsylvanians in the world, Gail Spence Crosbie and Ann Spenceand to Jimmy, Megan, Spencer and Anthony Crosbie
Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Prologue
It was a beautiful time of day, close to dusk, at a beautiful time of year, early fall. Philadelphias Tarleton-Dandridge House sat back from the street, majestic and stately, in the light that had just begun to fade, as fine and poignant as an old building could be, a proud remnant of an era long gone, yet ever remembered.
Julian Mitchell almost felt guilty. Almost. He couldnt quite manage guilt; he was too ecstatic over his day, still pumped with enthusiasm and the beat of the music hed been playing. He enjoyed being a guide at the Tarleton-Dandridge, but today hed had to ditch it. The audition had been important and, much as he loved his job, he loved the idea of working full-time as a guitarist more. Sure, it was great dressing up and playing with the band in Old Town, but he had dreams of being a real rock star. Now, however, he had to slip back into the houseand suck up to Allison. She was their unofficial leader, head of the guides or docents at the Tarleton-Dandridge, and if she forgave him, the others would, too.
He saw that one group of guests had already entered the house with their guide and that another, the last group of the day, was assembling just outside the main door. He could see Allison Leigh to the side of the house near the gate, welcoming those who were gathering for the final tour. Allison was dressed in the typical fashion of the Revolutionary erathe typical high fashion of the Revolutionary era, since female guides wore clothing along the lines of that which wouldve been worn by Lucy Tarleton, the martyred heroine of the house. The male guides dressed as Lord Brian Bradley, the British general known as Beast Bradley, who had occupied the house.
They all looked pretty cool in their clothing, he thought. But especially Allison. She was beautiful to begin with, even if she was kind of a nerd. A real academic. But she did bear a resemblance to the heroine she played, Lucy Tarleton. Theyd all remarked on her resemblance to the painting in the house and those in various museums, but there was no evidence that she was a descendent of the woman. And if anyone would know, Allison would, since she was a historian. Maybe it was the clothing that gave her the look.
Allison wasnt even glancing his way, so he quickly jumped the old brick wall that surrounded the house.
He was still in his period clothing from the morning shift; he hadnt sneaked out until after lunch. Luckily, his bands audition had been to open for the new it grouprockers who liked to dress up like Patrick Henry and friendswhich meant he hadnt had to worry about auditioning in his work outfit.
Of course, he hadnt asked for the time off. Hed decided that in life it was generally better to do and ask forgiveness later than it was to beg for permission and get a big fat no! What guilt he did feel was because one of his colleagues had to take the tour group he should have led.
Still, he had a plan. Hed wait until the last group had gone through, and Jason and Allison had finished for the day. He winced; he realized Annette wasnt at work. Shed made an appointment for a root canal. But he knew his fellow docents as well as they knew him. Jason would leave before Ally. Julian just had to wait until Jason had left and Allison was alone, checking as she always did that the doors were locked and the alarm system was on. She would come down to Anguss studyye olde study, where that poor bastard Angus Tarleton had died, supposedly of a broken heartto make sure no kids were hiding under the desk to spend the night in the haunted house. Hed wait for her there. When Ally showed up, he would beg and plead and he could honestly tell her theyd probably get the gig, and hed do anything to compensate for the time hed missed. And hed promise her backstage passes to the first concert.
He tiptoed to the front door and listened. Once Jasons tour had moved into the social rooms to the left, he hurried up the stairs. But when he reached the second-floor landing, he heard conversation and footsteps coming down from the attic. He dodged into Lucy Tarletons room. Hed forgotten the board was meeting at the house that day. Hed have to wait until they were gone.
At last, they were. He heard the foursome going down the main stairway. As usual, they were bickering among themselves.
Cherry, you may be a descendent of the family, but this place is owned by Old Philly History now. Were only the board. She started to speak, but Ethan Oxford interrupted her. Yes, its privately owned and operated, but theres a charter. The house was donated for the preservation of history.
Old Ethan Oxford was the senior member of the board. Cherrys mother had been the last of the Dandridge family. Cherry would probably have eschewed her own fathers name to take on Dandridge, Julian was certain, except that her husband, George Addison, was becoming a very well-known artist, and she liked the prestige that came with being Mrs. Addison.
No one knows this house like I do, Cherry insisted.
Really? You never lived in it. It was handed over to Old Philly History long before you were born.
Julian smiled. That voice belonged to Nathan Pierson, who loved to listen sweetly to Cherry and then zing her.
Hush! Sarah Vining said. There are tour groups in here!
A moment later, even their voices faded away as they left the house.
Julian started toward the attic but paused. For some reason, he had the odd sensation of being held in the room and he turned around, curious. He saw nothing there. Nothing except the painting of Beast Bradley. The nice painting of Bradley. They say you were a brutal bastard. Glad someone saw the good in you! Julian said. Giving himself a mental shake, he dashed up to the attic to hide. He sat at the desk there, glancing at the piles of paper around the computer and the countless file folders. Some of the information here was pure businessschedules, events planned at the estate, programs planned, money collected. But most of the piles belonged to Ally. Professor Allison Leigh. You would have to be a brainiac! he said aloud. He was a year or two younger than Ally, but hed had a crush on her since hed taken his position here. And she wasnt all work and no play. He knew because shed dated another musician for a while, an acquaintance of his.
You may have brains, Ally, but your taste in men isnt so great. It was one thing to have a casual friendship with a drug addict; it was another to date one. Allys romance had ended when she realized she couldnt compete with his cocaine habit.
Ah, well, history seemed to be her true love. He picked up the nearest folder and began to read. Huh! he murmured. Apparently, shed found a new lead on an old subject.
To his own surprise, he became interested in her notes. Ally definitely seemed to be on to something. He set down the folder and listened carefully. It was safe to go down to the second floor, he decided, since Jasons tour group had departed.
Julian hurried back to Lucys bedroom. There was a beautiful rendering of a young Lucy on one wall. She was dressed in white and had a look of open excitement in her eyes, as if she loved life, and the whole world. It had been an eighteenth-birthday gift to Lucy from Levy Perry, an artist killed at Brandywine. Naturally, it was painted before either of them had learned about the horrors of war.
He turned from the image of Lucy and stared at the painting of Beast Bradley again.
Charmer, were you? He laughed softly. Well, thats not what history says.
As soon as he could, hed go down to Anguss study and wait for Ally. If she gave him any grief, he could tell her hed read her notes about Bradley and Lucy, and they were brilliant, just brilliant.
Interesting that the painting of Beast Bradley in the study was nothing like this one.
He smiled. Hed have the chance to stare at that one for a while. Because he wanted to be in Anguss chair when Ally found him. He was dressed as Beast Bradleywhy not play the part completely as he begged her to forgive him? It was the perfect way to convince her that he was serious about his job here. At least until his music career was well and truly launched
Leaving Lucys bedroom, he reached the door and thought he heard a noise behind him. But that was impossible.
Unless it was good old Beast Bradley himself, roused from the dead to rummage through the research papers?
Tiptoeing down the stairs he laughed. He opened the hall closet on the first floor to pick up the reproduction muzzle-loading musket and bayonet that went with his uniform.
He heard a noise again and frowned. It couldnt be coming from the attic. No, he told himself, the rustling was probably outside.
I aint afraid of no ghosts! he muttered.
And yet, it was with great unease that he waited.
He felt he was being watched.
And followed.
1
Are you Dolley Madison? Or, like, Martha Washington or something? one of the boys edging toward the front of Allison Leighs tour asked. He was about nine or ten, still awkward, but obviously determined to create some havocno doubt to avoid embarrassing himself in front of the few other teens and preteens on the tour.
A taller, older boy, maybe twelve, who might have been his brother, nudged him. You idiot, theyre both dead, and shes alive. And shes hot, buddy. Shes way too hot even in that getup to be one of those old ladies. The second boy tried to look mature. He reminded Allison of a very young Adam Sandler. The boys were part of her tour, which included a mix of ages. Summer was just drawing to a close and families were still on vacation.
She heard someone behind her choke back laughter; it was Nathan Pierson, longtime board member for the nonprofit organization that now owned the Tarleton-Dandridge House. Theyd had a meeting in the attic, where a small office was located. Cherry Addison, the remaining descendent of the Dandridge clan, had already moved on, spike heels clicking. Ethan Oxford, their eldest member, had politely made his way through the crowd. Nathan and Sarah Vining were the last of the four board members to leave the house.
Nathan grinned and winked at Allison as he approached. Sarah hurried to catch up with him. She was a wisp of a woman who had given herself frown lines worrying about the boards every move, while Nathan was the opposite, always certain things would work out. He was a slim and stately man in his forties, not exactly a father figure, more like a cool-uncle figure. And he was amused.
Ally shot him a warning glance, but he kept grinning as he stepped past her. When he looked back and winked again, she forced a smile to her lips and turned her attention back to the group.
Well, thanks, I think, she told the boy whod spoken. There was nothing like having a few young kids on the tour, giggling and not the least bit interested in the history of the Tarleton-Dandridge Houseor the nation, for that matter. They didnt want to be here and were going to be thorns in her side if she didnt do something quickly. Ghost tours were the answer in situations like this.
To most kids an old house just seemed stuffy and boring. She understood how they felt, even though shed always been the odd kid out herselfa history nerd, as Julian liked to call her. She was from Philadelphia; shed gone to Boston for her bachelor and masters, and to New York for her doctorate, but she loved her own city almost as if it were a friend with whom shed grown up. From the time she was little, shed gaped at Independence Hall and marveled that she could stand in the same place where some of the greatest men in American history had stood.