Authors: Jennifer Brassel
The interview still didn’t explain why Deanna had been in her room. As best she could reckon, it had been well after nine when John had convinced her to go to investigate the Dowager’s Suite. Kelly worried the inside of her cheek with her tongue wondering whether she ought to say anything to Nancy and Tom about Deanna’s late night escapade. But then again, perhaps she should wait and observe the girl a little. If John’s appearance was a hoax, which she still desperately wanted to believe, and the girl was an accomplice, what better way to catch them out than having one of the players right under her nose?
‘I have a reason for disturbing your celebration,’ Richard said. He brandished a bright orange flyer, which he handed to Tom. ‘The polo pre-season final is on tomorrow at Cirencester. I wanted to invite you as my guests. There’ll be a marquee with refreshments, music and the like. The details are there. Please say you can come.’
Tom grinned. ‘Would love to come, Richard. Some fresh air would do both these ladies a world of good.’
Kelly would have growled with frustration but, for once, Richard’s manoeuvering played right into her hands. While she had no idea where Cirencester was, she was sure Tom wouldn’t mind a short detour to drop the letter in to Barnsley for authentication once she explained. She drained her glass and stood, hiccupping noisily. Too late, she clamped a hand over her mouth. ‘Oops – champagne does that to me sometimes. It’s been a long day so I think I’ll turn in.’
‘But—’ Nancy began.
‘We’ll talk more in the morning,’ Kelly promised with a wink. ‘Goodnight.’
She kissed Nancy’s cheek and gave Tom a big hug as she passed.
‘Don’t I get one of those?’ Richard asked with a mock leer.
She flashed him a cheeky smile. ‘Maybe when I know you better.’ She’d meant it as a joke but the look in his eyes promised that he had every intention of making that happen.
Omigod – what have I done now?
Knowing she had no gracious way to discourage him, she simply repeated her ‘goodnight’ and escaped into the hall.
As she climbed the staircase, John’s image appeared in the mirror at the landing.
‘What are you doing there?!’ she whispered urgently, glancing quickly over her shoulder to the open door of the salon.
‘It is one of the mirrors I can frequent. It is a fine place to watch the comings and goings. Do not be alarmed, I believe I am visible to none but you.’
She grunted, realising that she generally favoured the servants’ stairs at the back of the manor so it stood to reason she hadn’t encountered him here before.
‘I’m going to bed,’ she muttered before she headed up the second flight of stairs.
As expected John stood waiting for her when she closed the bedrooom door.
‘Are you going to tell me about Elizabeth now?’ she demanded without preamble.
‘Madam, I have already said all I intend to say on this. I killed her. I deserve whatever judgement my Maker chooses to exact. All I wish is that I get the opportunity to confront Him for my sins. That is all you need to understand about Elizabeth.’
He crossed his arms and nodded once, then vanished.
‘I wish I could escape reality by disappearing every time someone said something I don’t like. You’re a coward, John Tarrant!’
She waited, hoping her insult would prick his ego enough to bring him back. But it seemed he was more stubborn than any man she’d ever laid eyes on.
With a sigh she headed for the bathroom. A nice long bath would soothe her frayed nerves.
He wished he could tell her. Tell her everything and ask her forgiveness. But he didn’t deserve forgiveness and he knew it.
Throughout the long night he stood vigil, watching her sleep. At times she became restless, thrashing about and whimpering and he ached to be able to comfort her, to make her demons go away.
To hold her
. He cursed himself for a fool as soon as the thought entered his head. He would never hold anyone again, least of all a beautiful woman like Kelly. But the yearning inside him had grown stronger. The feelings, long forgotten emotions. She beckoned, tempting him to fall in love with her, even if she wasn’t aware she did so.
It would send him to the brink of insanity and beyond. He knew it. Yet to stop, to leave, would be to condemn himself to another twenty years of oblivion at the very least. Kelly still did not quite believe him. He sensed her resistance in almost every exchange … yet there were times, moments, when he felt her beginning to waver. Five days had passed and he was no closer to finding what he sought. But she had agreed to look and she seemed resourceful as well as lovely.
He laughed to himself. He’d never encountered Edward’s ghost but he was certain the man’s shade would be somewhere watching, revelling in his discomfort. What irony Edward would see in this! To care for someone and be doomed never to be able to even touch her … he pressed his hand to the glass that separated him from her but all he felt was that cold emptiness that had been his companion for so long.
Dear God! Just once …
he let out a breath and turned away.
Journal of Edward James Ditchley
,
Stanthorpe House, Oxfordshire, England
.
March 5, 1862
My Beautiful Elizabeth, it is done. Like a frightened bird she stood beside me and shook as the vicar made us repeat our vows before God. I know He will forgive me, as indeed you
must, my love. Our purpose was Divine retribution, and your murderer is suffering as he made you suffer
.
I shall not take my new wife on a wedding trip. She has shut herself within our chamber pleading illness. I shall allow her some peace until this evening then I will consummate this unholy marriage
.
Enveloped in a cocoon of warmth and safety, Kelly let her mind drift. A man’s strong arms surrounded her, and she nuzzled his neck feeling more complete and more cherished than ever before
.
She knew it wasn’t Frank. He’d never made her feel this way. Safe. With Frank she was never safe. No – in the beginning with Frank it was exciting and wild. Sensual and very daring. He made her do things she would never have contemplated: they’d made love in the back of a taxi and once at the train station. And after three weeks of courting danger with their sexual exploits he convinced her that her life would never be complete without the adrenalin rush he caused whenever he looked at her with carnal mischief on his mind. Against her family’s advice, she agreed to fly to Vegas and marry him only five weeks after that first night at the gallery
.
Of course, now she knew that it had all been a ruse. He’d planned it all. He’d decided to sweep the poor little rich girl off her feet and buy his way into LA’s A-list. And like a starving child who’d been offered chocolate, she’d grabbed him with both hands and thought little about the consequences
.
That wild excitement she had once known now filled her with self-disgust
.
Frank wasn’t a big man. He was wiry and thin; the product of a personal trainer and a strict diet regime that left no room for indulgence. No, this definitely wasn’t Frank. The arms that held her belonged to someone taller and better formed. There was no spray-on tan; the skin was fair with a sprinkling of dark hairs on his chest that tickled her chin. She nuzzled again, relishing the warmth, the smoothness of the skin beneath her lips. She smiled to herself when her touch elicited a groan of pleasure
.
Gentle hands swept down her back and she felt her skin tense in anticipation. Tingles rippled along in the wake of his slow moving hand and every tiny muscle in her groin contracted as he cupped her bottom. Heat surged through her. Moisture pooled between her legs and she wriggled closer, pressing herself against his thigh
.
His mouth descended, inching its way along her temple, then her cheek, until his lips captured hers. Gently at first, seeking and exploring, his lips sucked. Then as she sighed her lips apart the tip of his tongue sought entrance. She welcomed him, reaching to take his tongue inside her, just as she wanted to take another part of him inside her. The dampness of his mouth echoed the dampness between her thighs, and as the heat between their mouths grew, the heat deep within her grew also. Her muscles tightened until she burned to have some part of him, any part of him, touching her there too. She edged closer, arching herself against his thigh, wanting to slide over him
.
She needed to touch him, make him feel that same heat. She quivered on the edge of completion and desperately needed to be filled. But as her fingers commenced their downward march his skin began to turn hard and cold. The flat plane of his stomach suddenly became like a sheet of glass. She drew back sharply
.
‘What?’ Her mind wailed in confusion
.
Out in the middle of an open field, she lay naked against a mirror in the moonlight
.
John?
He was gone …
Day Six
The electronic screech of the alarm woke her just as the sun rose. She’d planned to grab a hasty breakfast before closeting herself in the library downstairs to do a little research, but when Kelly opened her eyes the first thing she saw was John Tarrant staring straight back at her with his arms crossed. The expression he wore was exactly like in last night’s dream. She felt her entire body begin to heat.
‘Kelly,’ he said her name as if speaking to a child. ‘Why does that tiny box make such a godforsaken cacophany?’
She reached across and slammed her hand onto the alarm to make it stop then sat up and shoved the hair out of her face. ‘It’s an alarm, that’s its purpose.’
‘I am no dullard, Madam – I am aware of such things – indeed, a clock with an alarm bell sat in the library of my London home. But your device has a particularly discordant sound. If you needed to be woken so early, why did you not ask?’
Throwing off the covers she slid her legs over the side of the high bed. She glanced up to see his eyes widen, realising that until now she’d made a point of keeping herself well and truly covered by turning out the lights whenever she thought he might be watching or by keeping a wrap on the bed, ready and waiting for quick trips to the bathroom. The look in his eyes sent another flash of memory from last night’s dream screaming through her mind and she wondered whether he might also dream.
She smiled to herself when he looked away, his cheeks pinkening.
‘What’s the matter – never seen a woman’s legs before?’
After making a slight choking noise in the back of his throat he turned back to her, raising his chin slightly, almost in defiance. ‘Indeed I have, Madam—’
‘I thought you were going to call me Kelly,’ she broke in with a snort. She could tell she’d unnerved him and that gave her a lot of satisfaction.
‘Indeed I have,
Kelly
,’ he amended, his agitation obviously raised another notch by her interruption. ‘However, those I have seen belonged to former lovers, not mere acquaintances.’
A sudden stab of hurt surged through her belly and she glared. ‘Mere acquaintances?’ she cocked an eyebrow. ‘You are in
my
bedroom, don’t forget. If I choose to show a bit of leg that is my business.’
After a moment’s consideration a slow, crooked smile lifted the corners of his lips. ‘In that case, m’dear, I shall take full advantage and enjoy the sight of whatever bared flesh you decide to exhibit.’
‘Fine.’
His gaze dropped to her legs momentarily before he allowed the smile full rein. ‘Yes, very fine indeed.’
Again she snorted; men were such arses! ‘Well, I’m showering, then I’m going down to the library to do a bit of research.’
‘Can you not wait until the hand mirror is returned? I could accompany you and direct the searches.’
‘That’s not possible. I’ve got to go and watch Richard play polo this afternoon, so I’ve only got the morning free. Besides why is it so important that you direct me? I’m sure I can find the journal if it exists.’
‘Perhaps, but the search would be speedier if you do not become side-tracked by finds that would be of no consequence to my predicament.’
That was odd, Kelly thought as she studied his face. Why would he think she’d become side-tracked? What other ‘finds’ might there be? He wouldn’t meet her gaze and that was a sure sign, in her experience, that he wasn’t telling her everything.
Hmmm. Maybe the electronic devices that allowed him to appear in the mirrors were hidden in the library?
‘Sorry. That’s my plan. I’ll see you later.’ She marched into the walk-in closet with the feeling that the hoax was finally about to be unveiled.
After making a fairly thorough check for wiring and unexplained electricals, of which she found none, the search of the library began with Kelly scanning umpteen ledgers and diaries written by previous owners or managers of the estate from around the time John claimed to have become entrapped. But after a lot of useless and very boring reading, she decided that Edward’s journal would likely be hidden in a place where it wouldn’t easily be recognised, so she changed tack and began to search the shelves from over a hundred years prior to the date she’d started with.
An hour and a half later, covered in dust, Kelly thought she’d hit paydirt. She’d systematically removed all the books from each shelf of a bookcase, the third that she had inspected so far. At the very bottom near the floor where she now lay flat on her belly, she found a loose backing board that slid sideways. Mindful of spiders and other creepy-crawlies, she donned a pair of rubber gloves she’d found in kitchen and felt about in the small space behind. She could see little, despite the aid of a flashlight. Behind the loose board she discovered a brick that also seemed a bit loose. She jiggled the brick for a minute or two and in a sudden puff of dust that made her cough hysterically, the brick slid out to reveal a small square cavity that did yield some prizes.
‘Yes!’ she exclaimed, her pulse rate doubling as she dragged out a cloth-covered pocket-watch. The cloth turned out to be a ladies’ handkerchief with the initials
E. D
. embroidered in the corner by a very fine hand. The pocket-watch seemed old and Kelly handled it very carefully. Of highly polished silver with a fine circular pattern on the case, the inside held a manufacturer’s mark of
A. Reiss
, and the initials
J.C.T
. had been engraved along one edge.