Rebecca's Ghost

by Marianne Petit

  Lifting her head, she bunched the pillow with her fists.

  Men used women to satisfy their animal lusting. Lord knows she had heard her mother’s groans and protests too often through the thin walls of her room. Men played with women’s minds as well as their bodies. That’s what she should remember, not the way those strong arms had held her, but that those same arms could hold her prisoner.

  Feeling stifled, Elizabeth jumped off the bed, struggled into a simple green gown of muslin, jammed her feet into shoes and ran from the room.

  Lifting the hem of her gown, she rushed down the stairs to the front door.

  Dare she leave the safe sanctuary of this house?

  She paused on the steps and glanced outside, fearful her guardian lay in wait behind the trees.

  Gathering her resolve, seeing no one, she hurried down the crushed shelled pathway.

  Minutes later, she found herself, behind the stables, looking out onto a lush grassy meadow where a lone black stallion stood nibbling at the grass.

  Unable to shake a feeling of gloom, remembering her grand-mamma’s warning, Elizabeth studied the trees for any sign of decay or sickness then chided herself for being foolish.

  The only threat of peril came from her guardian and thank heavens, for the moment, he was nowhere to be found.

  Pushing him from her mind, she opened the gate of the corral and stepped through.

  Alerted, the stallion’s ears stood straight. His dark eyes studied her.

  She could feel the untamed power and strength about the magnificent beast the closer he came.

  Unsure of her presence inside the confines of his territory, he stopped before her and sniffed her head. His soft nostrils tickled her scalp. His warm snort blew a few wisps of hair to her forehead. He lowered his head and nuzzled under her arm.

  She laughed. “Sorry gentle one. Do not despair on my word I shall bring you an apple upon our next encounter.”

  He nodded as though he understood and approved.

  “You flatheaded imbecile. Get out of there,” a deep male voice boomed.

  Startled, Elizabeth pivoted on her heel.

  A tall, stocky redhead, his face weathered by the sun, scowled at her.

  “Are you deaf? I said to get out.” He came to an abrupt halt in front of the gate.

  “I heard you quite clearly, thank you.” She didn’t like the tone of his voice. “The entire estate has heard you as well. I am sure.”

  She turned her back to him and patted the stallion's neck. “Don’t be afraid.”

  “If you’re not deaf, then you must be crazy, cause that horse is a mean spirited bastard and you’re likely to get yourself killed. So you’d better-- “

  She spun around. “Mr?”

  “Duncan, Edwin Duncan.”

  “Well, Mr. Duncan. I can handle myself fine and am hardly frightened, or in danger.”

  For some unknown reason she had a way with animals; a silent understanding. And by the way the stallion’s ears had bent back and his eyes had grown glazed at the sound of Duncan’s voice, she had the impression Duncan had mistreated him.

  She ran her hand over the animal’s soft, velvety nose. The horse nuzzled her ear.

  Duncan grunted in disbelief.

  After a few soft-spoken words of endearment, she stepped back and closed the gate behind her.

  A peevish frown hardened Duncan’s face. As if to prove a point, he opened the gate and stepped inside.

  The horse’s ears went back. He pawed the earth.

  “Why the poor thing is scared to death.” She frowned.

  Duncan stepped back, closed the gate and shrugged his shoulders.

  “Well, I’ll be a horse’s arse. I heard tell someone new was in the master’s house again.” He ran his fingers through his short red hair, making himself more presentable.

  He stepped closer. “Never said you was such a beauty.”

  Apprehension flowed through her, but she managed to keep her voice calm. “I understand you have quite a way with the horses.”

  If he bought that lie, he is even stupider than I thought.

  Was her nervousness showing?

  The sudden glint of interest that flashed across his eyes made the lining of her stomach drop.

  He stepped closer and placed his hand on the wooden rail.

  She backed up only to find the gate at her back.

  A sickening wave of terror welled up from her belly as her valor slipped.

  “I’ve also been known to have quite a way with the ladies.” He grinned. His blue eyes grew glassy. “Why don’t I show you what a stud I really am?”

  Trapped, by his body and the fence, her knees shook as a wall of despair built inside her. But with all the strength she could muster, she squared her shoulders and knocked her fears down.

  “Please be so kind as to let me pass.” Her voice had a ring of authority in it that she hoped masked her apprehensions. “I’m sure you would agree that his Lordship wouldn’t take too kindly to this conversation, lest I be inclined to tell him.”

  “And what’s that gonna do? The master ain’t interested in the goings on of his servants.”

  “Servants? Is that what you--”

  “By all means, miss high and mighty.” With a look of disgust on his ruddy face, Edwin stepped back with a dismissive wave of his hand. “You think you’re better than the rest of us?”

  Her heart beating rapidly, her legs unstable, she walked proudly past him.

  Fear, relief, jolted through her as she ran toward the house.

  He thought her a servant. ‘Twas better than thinking her his Lordship’s bed-server. She was, after all, an un-chaperoned woman in a stranger’s home.

  Her gait seemingly relaxed until Duncan was out of sight, she hurried through the front door.

  Still shaking from her ordeal, she ran into the music room. The only means that would calm her, help her think clearly, would be to lose herself in her music.

  So proficient at putting her glass armonica together, it took no time at all till the celestial sounding tones washed over her tensions, and freed her troubled mind.

  She closed her eyes.

  All diabolical thoughts, all anxieties floated away with the light, heavenly notes.

  She ran her moist fingers back and forth over the rotation of graduated glass bowls and the vibration sent tiny waves of friction up her hands and arms.

  Music filled every pore in her body.

  Weightlessness, as though she were floating on comforting white clouds, encompassed her.

  Then from somewhere in the distance, pulling her away from this place where she was totally at peace with herself, came a noise. It drew her out of her fantasy world and back to reality.

  Feeling someone’s presence, she immediately thought of Duncan.

  Her eyes snapped open.

  The quick, disturbing thought snatched her breath away.

  Her gaze darted into the shadows as apprehension swept through her.

  As casually as she could manage, she stood.

  A tense silence enveloped the room, save for the ticking of the clock.

  Certain someone watched her, her heart pounding, Elizabeth glanced around and, for a crazy moment, she could swear a ghostly shadow flit across the room.

  ***

  Katherine called her coach to a stop and leaned out the window. “Philip, my dear. How good to see you.”

  Philip stepped down from his carriage and grasped her hand. His kiss upon her fingers sent a flutter to her loins. Her skin prickled with the caress of his touch.

  “Katherine.”

  The sound of her name falling from his lips, spurt a wave of hungry desire down the length of her body.

  When he dropped her hand, she wanted to grab it back and bring it to her breast.

  “My thoughts were just upon you,” she said, purposely soft and seductive.

  She leaned a little farther out the window, knowing her breasts nearly spilled from her bodice, hoping
the slight tease of her nipples would draw his glance, make him burn with the same aching intensity throbbing at the junction of her thighs.

  “I hope you fare well.” Philip tipped his head.

  Deliberately, she nibbled on her fingertip, then drew it slowly across her lower lip. “I feel…” Casually she dropped her hand to her chest and wiped her moist skin, dipping her fingers into her cleavage. “Rather hot. Can you stand the heat?”

  A shadow of annoyance crossed his face. He glanced toward his coach, then back at her. “I find myself not in the least affected.” He stepped back, putting a short distance between them.

  “Nay?” she asked demurely, hanging onto her composure.

  “In fact, I think it rather a mild day.”

  She forced a smile.

  His straight glance seemed to assess her with un-interest.

  Irked by his cool, aloof manner, she snapped her hand away from her breast.

  “Mistress Wellsworth, I’ve been meaning to discuss the other morn--”

  “And what a wonderful morning we shared.”

  “Yes, well--”

  “The sweet remembrance of your presence…”

  Slowly, seductively, her gaze slid down his body, lingering for a moment at the junction of his legs where the root of his manliness lay cradled beneath his britches. “I fear has left me thinking of nothing else.”

  His eyebrows shot up with surprise. “Mistress Wellsworth ‘tis naught the time, nor place.”

  Again, he glanced toward his carriage.

  What distracts him so? She leaned closer.

  “I’m afraid my bed feels rather cold without you,” she whispered, knowing her servant sat in the coach across from her. Perhaps that is why he uses my proper name, to keep up appearances.

  She raised her glance, then pouted, lowering her chin just enough to appear heartbroken. Was her little act working?

  She studied his face, noticing the corner of his mouth twisted with exasperation. A pensive shimmer shadowed his eyes.

  Her body stiffened. Slowly she straightened, her shoulders framing the window.

  What will it take to get him to desire me as much as I desired him?

  The horses, tethered to his carriage, impatient from their idleness, took a step forward, causing the coach to roll. A swirl of dust rose from the ground clouding the air.

  Someone sneezed. “Oh bother!”

  Katherine’s head jerked back. A woman?

  “God Bless,” Katherine replied sweetly.

  A head popped through the window. “Thank ye Mistress.”

  The Seamstress? What does Philip want with a seamstress?

  “Why Mrs. Brace, I thought to pay you a call today.”

  The seamstress wiped her snub nose with a lace cloth. “Oi was jest on me way to his lordship’s ‘ouse, but me shop will be open tomorrow morn, if ye so incloned to call upon me then.”

  “Yes. Perhaps I’ll just do that.”

  “Roit then. Good day to ye.” She bobbed her head and disappeared from the window.

  Katherine turned toward Philip. “Are one of the servants in need of some garb?”

  He met her gaze, his face a mask of guarded emotion.

  “Surely you haven’t taken to using her services?” Katherine forced a laugh, covering the anger beginning to tighten her chest.

  A momentary look of discomfort slid across his face, then he grinned. “Old George has been making my clothes for years. Wouldn’t do to anger him. Nay. I’ve hired her for an acquaintance.”

  He nearly swallowed his last word, but she heard him loud and clear.

  She stiffened, abashed.

  “How very generous of you. May I inquire for whom?” She tried to keep her voice calm and even, though anger surged wildly within her. “Do I know her?”

  “Nay.” Annoyance tipped his tone.

  Rage siphoned the blood from her cheeks.

  Who was the whore that caught her man’s attention and dared steal her chance at his name? When she found out, nail marks would scar the bitch’s face.

  “Philip, dearest.” She reached out and lightly traced a sensual path of small circles beneath his collarbone. “How silly of me to inquire into your personal affairs. The last thing I want is to see your handsome face angered.”

  She lowered her eyes demurely. She’d make him forget that harlot of his, whoever she was.

  He grabbed her hand, ceasing her movements. “You anger me naught.” He placed her hand on the sill of her coach. “We part as friends.”

  “More than that, love, wouldn’t you say? After all, friends don’t kiss each other the way you kissed me the other eve.”

  She ran her tongue over her lower lip. “And with such passion.” Think on that lie, you drunken heathen.

  Suddenly she didn’t like the uncertainness she felt, or the nagging voice whispering his interests lie with another woman.

  “’Twas my understanding…” He stared at her, his eyes clouded with confusion. His fingers slipped off her hand. “Once again, I devoutly wish to apologize. It appears much of my actions of that night are still shrouded in the fog of drink.”

  “Philip dearest, there is no need to apologize for something so… mmm… delicious. But-” She leaned a little farther out the coach, and noticed how his jaw tightened. Quickly, before he could move away, she grasped his jacket collar and drew herself closer. “Let me refresh your memory.” She lowered her lips to his.

  He stepped back, catching her off guard.

  The cad!

  If he hadn’t been holding her upper arms, she would have toppled out the window.

  Katherine settled back into her seat, annoyed, yet satisfied Mrs. Brace would have something to gossip about.

  “Nay.” His eyes narrowed. His back ramrod straight, he continued. “Though my thoughts of that night are bred in darkness, I clearly recall your words.”

  “‘Twas quite a spectacle you caused leaving the pub. A delicious one at that,” she snapped her fan open and fanned her face.

  At least he has the good graces to flush with embarrassment.

  She fixed him with a level stare.

  “With my sincerest apologies, I think ‘tis best we no longer see one another for a while.” He took a step away from the carriage. “And I am truly sorry, for my behavior. If I led you to believe our relationship was more than just friendship ‘twas heartless of me.”

  His words forced the air from her lungs. She brought her hand to her heart.

  If she wanted to salvage anything from this conversation, she’d better end it now, or any chance of gaining acceptance into society as his wife would be over.

  “Alas, I can’t bear to hear another word. Why I’d possibly just roll over and die, if you said our friendship, which I hold so close to my heart, was over just because of my curiosity.” She fluttered her lashes, sweetly. “Let us just say good day for now, for I really must be on my way.”

  She breathed, a sigh of relief, when without another word, he nodded.

  Quickly she rapped the side of her coach to get her horsemen’s attention.

  “Carry on.”

  Get these blasted horses moving.

  “So good to see you again.”

  Bastard. She held out her hand.

  His kiss left her cold.

  “Good day to you Mistress Wellsworth.”

  She watched him climb into his carriage and wished he’d trip and break his neck.

  Again, he acknowledged her with a nod.

  She smiled, her lips tight, strained.

  Her carriage jerked ahead catching her off guard. She lurched forward. Her hands met the seat before her.

  “Mistress, are you--”

  “Of course I’m fine, you sniveling half-wit.” She glared at the young servant woman before her.

  Sallie's thin face drawn, her eyes, downcast, she wrung her hands nervously in her lap.

  Katherine settled back in her seat and smoothed a wrinkle from her gown.

 
; Sallie frowned and her blotchy red birthmark appeared wrinkled and distorted.

  Katherine glanced out the window, disgusted; disgusted by Sallie’s presence; disgusted with Philip and Mrs. Brace.

  And annoyed he’d hired the seamstress for some harlot she had no knowledge of.

  “You are friendly with Lord Ablington’s groom, are you not?” She focused her attention back on her servant.

  “Duncan? Yes.” Sallie nodded meekly.

  “Good.” She paused a moment in thought. “I want you to pay this groom a visit. I want you to find out who his Lordship is seeing. I want to know where the bitch lives and just how serious he is about her.”

  “But--” Sallie’s hand trembled.

  “You dare question me? You will go first thing tomorrow morn.”

  ***

  Slumber was bestowed on those lucky enough to find solace with the setting of the sun.

  Elizabeth bunched her pillow again for the third time.

  She could not count herself among the lucky.

  Forever on guard, under the watchful eyes of staff and host, the edginess she felt consumed her throughout the day and spilled into the night.

  Today, between Duncan’s insinuations, and pursued by an uncomfortable feeling, someone stood in the shadows, studying her, that uneasiness felt tenfold.

  Her Grand-mamma used to tell her stories about spirits who could not rest and walked among the living, but she herself had never seen a spirit. Had she seen one today?

  When Nora, the upstairs maid, shrieked upon seeing her in Rebecca’s gown and commented that wearing a dead woman’s garb kept her evil spirit close, Elizabeth wondered if those words were true.

  Tension clawed at her throat.

  And his lordship… had he purposely stayed away from her the entire day?

  Chilled, despite the slow burning fire in the hearth, Elizabeth sat up and wrapped her arms around her.

  The man was a paradox indeed. He could be as gruff as a bear, with eyes that darkened to a stormy gray, then…

  She sighed, recalling the frightened, childlike expression on his face after her fainting spell.

  Perhaps work had stolen his day.

  A floorboard creaked outside her door.

  She jerked her head toward the hall.