Secret Reflection (14 page)

Kelly replied with a non-committal lift of one shoulder.

‘I thought you were an investigative journalist?’ he said, almost as an accusation.

She drew herself up, stating in no uncertain terms, ‘I am.’

‘Then why are you ignoring these things? Aren’t you here to prove whether or not the ghost exists?’

John raised one winged brow in question and it took every ounce of her self-control not to react.

‘Yes, I am. But the evidence I’ve come across so far is pretty flimsy,’ she said, her eyes fixed on John. His other brow rose like the first. Then he smiled, as if she’d challenged him. He opened his mouth as if ready to speak and Kelly jumped up in alarm. The last thing she needed was for John to make Richard more suspicious.

‘Perhaps we should go riding another day?’ she offered as she took his arm and began manoeuvering him toward the door. ‘I’m probably still a bit jetlagged – maybe that’s why I didn’t hear it.’ She flashed him her most endearing smile. ‘I really am very tired and I feel a headache coming on. I think I should go back to bed for a while.’

Richard gave her a skeptical look and then glanced over her shoulder at the mirror. ‘Are you sure you want to stay in this room? After what I just heard, I’d recommend another.’

‘I don’t see why,’ she replied, gently nudging him through the portal. ‘I’m quite safe. And if what you heard is true, it seems to me to be the best place to investigate.’

‘Maybe but …’ he let his words trail off.

‘I’ll be fine,’ she reassured, escorting him to the stairs. ‘Why don’t you call tomorrow about that riding lesson.’

‘I shall. And don’t forget, we have a dinner rendezvous on Friday evening.’

Still as white as a sheet, he gave her a half-hearted wave and started down the stairs. Kelly had the distinct impression that he was utterly terrified.

As she watched Richard descend she hesitated, gnawing on her upper lip … she had planned to question him about Deanna’s intrusion last night but with his reaction to John, it had completely slipped her mind. She’d just have to broach the subject on Friday during dinner.

When she felt certain Richard had left the house she returned to her room and stood, arms akimbo, and stared at the man in the mirror.

‘Why does it seem like you actually enjoyed that?’

The smile he flashed at her hinted at pure devilry. ‘Perhaps, Madam, it is because I did.’

‘But why?’

‘The
viscount
– who I regret to say is a distant nephew – came to stay in this room between school terms when he was little more than a child. He showed himself to be a petulant boy and at one point he angered me with his cruel treatment of a defenceless puppy.’ John’s smile turned grim. ‘I visited him one stormy night. Needless to say the bravado he showed his parents and the servants vanished when he was faced with the dreaded ghost of Stanthorpe House.’

‘You deliberately frightened a boy?’

‘And I would repeat the exercise if the opportunity arose.’

Her forehead creased as she considered how scared the young Richard would have been. She remembered only too well the initial stab of terror she’d felt when John had first made himself known. ‘But that is so mean. He was just a kid.’

‘Save your sympathy, Kelly. Even as a child he exhibited scant respect for this house and those who call it home. Indeed, little has changed in that regard.’

She sighed and went to sit at the writing desk. She hadn’t logged onto her email since yesterday and still awaited an answer from a tech crew that she wanted to commission to sweep her room and test the hand mirror.

‘Richard seems pleasant enough to me,’ she said as she plugged the modem into the side of her laptop.

‘Perhaps. However, I would advise caution. I have watched generations of Ditchleys in this house and I can say for a certainty that their blood is tainted.’

When Kelly next glanced up from her keyboard the mirror was empty, and though she still refused to believe he told the truth, she had to admit to a fleeting stab of disappointment. She had begun to enjoy their verbal sparring. Very much. And she still had to come up with a plausible explanation as to why she could see John whilst Richard obviously could not.

The rest of her day was spent going over all the evidence she had to date, and making arrangements for the technicians to sweep the room. She shared a quiet evening with Tom and Nancy, reminiscing over school days and revisiting photos of their escapades
over the years. Her friends breathed new life into her soul and by the time she went to bed, she’d begun to feel a little more like her old self.

It felt so warm. Frank hovered over her, desire rampant in his blazing eyes. She sighed, remembering that first flush of heat she’d felt when he had seduced her in the gallery. The intensity of his expression made her heart stutter slightly. He’d wanted her with a desperation the first time they’d met
.

He’d cornered her in a back room when the showing had just begun to get into full swing. Frank worked for a regional art magazine and had come to New York for the opening of a friend’s exhibition. They were introduced only minutes after she arrived and for the next hour he barely took his eyes off her, following her every move as she circulated amongst the invited guests and hangers on. She felt him – her skin prickling whenever he cast his gaze her way
.

When the room became oppressively crowded she decided to flee to the quiet of the private bathroom out back to catch her breath. She knew he would follow her. She let the water flow over her wrists to cool her skin and as she raised her eyes to look into the mirror, she saw him behind her. Even though she’d expected him to find her, her breath caught, just for an instant
.

The smile he wore was so carnal and sexy, she couldn’t help but return it. She felt bolder and more daring than she ever had
.

Keeping her reflected gaze trapped in his, he kissed the back of her neck, slowly, heatedly and she all but melted against him. His tongue, so wet and hot, traced up and down the hollow below her ear, making her shiver with each sweep of warm wetness. He said not a word. The only sounds were the rasp of fabric, her gown against his trousers, and her rapid breaths. She gripped the porcelain sink with shaking fingers as his hands inched her gown upward till he’d exposed her thighs. His hands were so hot her legs trembled
.

‘I’ve never …’ she began, not quite knowing what to say
.

‘Don’t speak … just feel,’ he ordered, still staring into her eyes
.

His fingertips wove lazy circles on her upper thighs, each time moving a little closer to her underwear. She felt tiny spurts of wetness release as his fingers edged nearer. Her thighs began to quiver. She closed her eyes and rolled her head back onto his shoulder with a sigh. An instant later his hands were there, touching her, sliding up and down in her moistness, and she heard herself moan. Never in her life had she done something so daring, or exciting!

Ever so gently he turned her to face him. He smiled at her again, that same carnal smile. She didn’t know when or how but her panties were gone and she was on the verge of climax, gripping his shoulders. His eyes were mesmerising, black orbs that drew her headlong into his heated world. He lifted her onto the edge of the sink, then, before she could take another breath, he was inside her, filling her, whispering promises and setting fire to her inside and out …

Then …

… Suddenly he was pawing at her body with sharp, digging fingers – his face determined; the veins in his temples stood out, pulsing, demanding
.

‘Surrender! You belong to me. You OWE me.’

‘Stop! Not like this!’ her mind wailed. ‘It wasn’t like this!’

But he had changed. This was no longer the Frank who’d swept her off her feet that night. The man looming over her looked like Frank but now the smile he wore was a hard smile, an ugly smile. He gripped her hair, bringing her face closer for a bruising kiss. What happened to those hands that had gently worshipped her that night in the gallery? Why had they deserted her? The fingers that now touched her were hard and callused and dug at her skin as if they intended to bruise
.

She whimpered, closing her eyes to block out the emotions. ‘No, Frank, please, not like this.’

‘Look at me!’

She wanted to disobey, but the voice changed – it slowly became softer, more compelling, until, ‘Look at me.’

Slowly her lids lifted and Frank had gone, the man above her was blond and smiling. Richard? At first his touch soothed, gentled. She felt herself relax as her skin warmed. The eyes, a startling blue, seemed to overwhelm her
.

‘Surrender,’ he whispered, his hands slowly smoothing over her bare breasts
.

She shook her head slightly. ‘No. It’s too soon,’ she begged
.

‘No it isn’t. Surrender. I’ll make you happy. Make you forget. We can help each other.’

Again she shook her head even as his big hand slid down her body, splaying over her belly. Goosebumps rose along her skin as his fingertips nudged the edge of her panties. She refused to react. ‘No – not yet. I can’t yet. I don’t want …’

Her plea was greeted a narrowing of those sky blue eyes
.

‘Yes. You need to.’

A leg pushed between hers, insinuating itself. His hand slid downward, pressing against her intimately, his fingers slipped between the moist folds, forcing a reaction. Her body arched of its own volition as he moved to lay over her
.

Shaking her head she heard her own sob, a tiny, mewling sound
.

‘No. Not yet. Please – I’m not ready.’ She turned her head into the pillow to escape his kiss. ‘Please, not now.’

The hands tensed against her as her mind struggled away …

… The weight of him lifted and she was left with the soft touch of a single, gentle hand that caressed her cheek
.

‘You are safe. I cannot harm you.’

Her eyes sprang open as she recognised that the timbre of the voice had changed again. Beside her, on the pillow, John’s face studied her with compassion. ‘I will never harm you,’ he whispered as he leaned across to touch her lips lightly with his
.

‘You’re a murderer!’

‘But I will not harm you,’ he repeated in a pledge that arrowed deep inside her. Again he brushed her lips with his
.

Soft
.

She sighed. He didn’t demand. Didn’t force. He just offered himself sweetly and she felt her emotions surge
.

‘I can wait an eternity for you,’ he promised
.

She tried to touch him with her hands, find his warmth, but he was beyond her grasp. ‘Where are you?’

Cold glass barred her
.

‘I will wait as long as it takes,’ he whispered
.

Safe, protected, she nodded and slipped more deeply into sleep
.

Journal of Edward James Ditchley
,

Stanthorpe House, Oxfordshire, England
.

January 28, 1862

My Darling One, our victory has come today! Anne could no longer forestall our marriage – she is with child and now must consent to be my bride post haste. We merely await the arrival of her father and the vicar will join us as man and wife. It will be a quiet service – unlike the magnificent event of our own nuptials, my Elizabeth. Be assured, you are not usurped in my heart
.

Your murderer is beside himself with anger and despair. As he should be. From this comes my only joy
.

Day Five

‘Are you certain?’ Kelly asked the technician for the third time in as many minutes.

The man finished stowing his gear in the back of his van and tossed the keys to his partner before facing her. She could tell he was trying very hard not to let his frustration show. With care, he packed the hand mirror into a slot in one of his foam-lined boxes. He’d promised to take it to his lab and test it inside and out, and get back to her later today.

‘Lady, I can positively guarantee that there is no infra-red, no video, no wireless, no standard electricals of any kind beyond the usual cables that supply power to the room. We swept everything. There isn’t a single electrical device in that room or the hall beyond, except for the lights and the data outlets. Our equipment measures the slightest current, and like I said: there were none.

‘All I can say is, if you’re hearing strange sounds … well … have you considered a ghostbuster? Personally, I don’t much believe in ghosts but in these old places … well … you never know, do you?’ He favoured her with a pitying glance, before climbing into the cab of his van.

‘Thank you – you’ve been most helpful,’ she said as she raised her hand in a half-hearted wave.
Most helpful? Who am I kidding? – they were no help at all
.

Kelly turned and glanced up at the window of the master bedroom. Her phantom hadn’t shown himself throughout the inspection, and she wondered whether that was because the technicians hadn’t been trained to ignore the image in the mirror like Nancy obviously had. And though she was yet to understand Richard’s reaction, she had a sneaking suspicion that it was another false clue to throw her off and make John seem more believable.

Just as she was about to head back inside, Nancy’s car appeared down the drive. Kelly shielded her eyes from the sun as she waited for it to come to a halt before her.

‘Hi!’

Nancy climbed out of the car and shrieked like she hadn’t seen Kelly for years. ‘Guess what, guess what, GUESS WHAT?’ She threw herself at Kelly and practically bowled her over.

‘I have no idea – tell me.’

Tom emerged from the driver’s side of the car and cleared his throat. ‘Wait for me before you just blurt out our news.’

Nancy just giggled and held out her free arm so he could join in their embrace. ‘Now can I tell her?’ she asked him.

He nodded.

‘We’re PREGNANT!’ Her high-pitched squeal was so loud that Kelly suspected the entire village would have heard.