Hosts to Ghosts Box Set

by Lynne Connolly

  Astonished, Cassandra blinked up at him. “What did I do?”

  “You had a child. Children. You didn’t even have the courtesy of taking a lover. I have asked, believe me I have asked. Anything to cast doubt on the children’s paternity, but there was nothing.” He frowned down at her. “You see, on the night you claim your sons were conceived, I was with Edward, in the company of a particularly inventive whore.”

  She stared at him, masking the horror she felt, and decided to go on the attack. “You had a whore in my house?”

  He shrugged. “She’s married to a member of society, but to all intents and purposes she’s a whore.”

  Cassandra stood, carefully putting her embroidery aside. “I don’t care to continue this conversation. While I am mistress here, no such gatherings will take place. My son will not be subjected to any corrupting influences and this is his home. So you will not be the only one to suffer. Moreover, I will have the town house closed down until I need to use it on his behalf. You will have to find somewhere else to live. You are his trustee, and until he reaches school age, he is to remain with me and his day to day care will be mine. Edward left that provision in his will.”

  He snarled at her, a cornered dog. “I’ll prove he’s not Edward’s son.”

  “He found time to visit me for just long enough. Were you awake all night?”

  “Pretty much.”

  “Then in the time you slept, your supplanter was conceived. Both of them.”

  Having said enough, she left the room.

  * * * * *

  Halloween arrived, and it was very different to the last one. No guests, except William and Deborah, now almost completely ignoring Cassandra. She preferred it that way. Her father had written, saying he was returning to England at Christmas, and he was delighted to find his grandchild safe. He approved of Cassandra’s scheme to invent a second baby, and again asked her if he should come. It had warmed her that he had been prepared to leave the center of the world at this time, where all the leaders gathered to decide the fate of Europe after Napoleon, just to be with her, but she could not allow it. He’d worked for this all his adult life, and she couldn’t deprive him of his triumph. But she was delighted that she would see him before the end of the year. With his help she might be able to rout William and Deborah for good.

  She had burned the letter, because of the admission of her scheme. Only Mr. Oldmeadow Senior had her statement of the truth, tucked in his safe in his office. She had to be very careful not to leave anything anywhere else.

  Tonight was hers. Pleading exhaustion, she retired soon after dinner, and when her maid had helped her to undress and brushed and braided her hair, she dismissed the woman. As soon as the door had closed she began to unwind the braids, brushing her hair to shining perfection. He would come. Although it had been dark for hours, he hadn’t come to her before when the sun went down, only later in the evening, and they would have until sunrise.

  This was the second day of her life.

  Cassandra stood and crossed to the window, pushing back the heavy curtains. Unlike last year, dust didn’t rise from the heavy drapery, because she’d had them cleaned and beaten, and her room was well lit and warmed by a fire that crackled cheerily in the grate, instead of letting smoke billow into the room. Because of him she had hope. Because of him she knew what it was to love. Because of him she knew what it was to be a mother.

  Perhaps that was his task, his purpose, and now he had passed on. She had hoped against all hope when he had stopped coming to her, that he would be allowed this.

  She would never forget how safe and complete she felt in his arms, how all her worries melted against his hard chest, for an hour or two. She couldn’t believe she would never feel that again. However true it might be.

  It was better if she stared out of the window, she could imagine him standing just behind her, ready to touch her shoulders and turn her into his arms. Any minute now.

  She stood until her calves ached, and when she checked the clock on the mantelpiece it said shortly before twelve. She’d stared out the window for an hour and a half, dreaming of last year, waiting.

  He wasn’t coming. Dropping to her knees by the side of the bed, she murmured a short prayer for the salvation of Vernon’s soul. He was gone. She should be happy for him. Perhaps, in time, she could be.

  * * * * *

  When Vernon found her, she lay in bed fast asleep, her hair spread over the pillow. One hand on the bedpost, he gazed at her, watching her chest rising and falling rhythmically as she breathed. He could stay there all day, watching her. There was no hurry, now.

  Instead of waking her as he’d planned, he turned the fireside chair towards the bed and sat, careful not to make any noise. It had been a long journey to get here, but it was worth every mile.

  She woke up suddenly, shortly before eight in the morning, and sat up, still half asleep. He watched the adorable way she blinked, and watched her when she noticed him for the first time.

  Her first reaction was to clutch the sheet. Her second was to drop it and open her arms. “Vernon! I fell asleep, I’m so sorry! What time is it?”

  He rose, and crossed the room, taking her into his arms. “Just after eight.”

  “Oh God, we have so little time!” She blinked, taking in the light seeping through the curtains at the window. “Vernon—” she paused when she sank her fingers into his now shorter hair. “Vernon―oh no!”

  With a deep breath she drew back. “Edward!”

  He didn’t let go. He couldn’t. “Both, sweetheart, both.” He gazed into her face, drinking in the beautiful sight of the woman he had done all this for—and would do again.

  She stilled. “What do you mean?”

  He smiled. “I’m Edward and I’m Vernon. When Edward lay dying on the field of Waterloo, I was given the chance to enter his body. There was no guarantee that I would live, but Edward had decided to move on, and I wasn’t ready.”

  “I can’t believe it.”

  “I’ll make you. I have to. I have some of Edward’s memories. Not his personal ones, they passed with him, but I know about this world, and enough of his life to cope. But I am Vernon. The man inside is Vernon, the man who loves you.”

  She stared up at him, joy dawning deep in her eyes. “Your eyes are blue. Edward’s were brown. Tell me again.”

  He felt her tremble under the thin fabric of her nightdress, and he held her close, warming her against his chest. “I wasn’t allowed to enter or communicate with anyone here until after dawn on the day of my appearances. It’s about half an hour after dawn came, and I’ve been here since then. Just watching you.”

  “How long can you stay?”

  “A lifetime.”

  Her voice shook. “This isn’t true, I’m dreaming. Tell me about it—tell me everything. I need time to—”

  “Take it all in,” he finished for her, his tone soothing. “I’ll tell you everything. When they found me on the field, I was naked. The vultures had done their work, the people who haunt battlefields and strip everything from the dead. Only I wasn’t dead. An orderly found me and I was carted away to the nearest medical post. They despaired for me, and I went into a fever shortly afterwards, so they thought I would die. But I didn’t die. I pretended to lose my memory for a time, it was easier that way, while I explored what I knew about myself, and this new world. Otherwise they would have contacted you, and that was forbidden.”

  “Why?”

  He dropped a kiss on the end of her nose. “I don’t know, but I didn’t want to take any chances. I needed to plan. I wanted to find your tormentor and kill him, but he was here, too, so I couldn’t. It took me a month to begin to recover. I’ve suffered a leg wound, sweetheart, and it was bad. One slash on the hip, another on the leg, and a blow to the head which seemed to support my story of a memory loss. They didn’t amputate, because the hip wound was thought the more serious, but the lack of attention to the leg wound has left it pretty ugly, I’m afraid.”r />
  Her voice sounded stronger, and he was glad to hear it. “I still use a cane, I might always have to. But I wouldn’t have cared if they had amputated, as long as you could have coped with it. I had entered your world and survived. I left at the end of August, but I was far from recovered. I had no money, so I lived on a pension until I knew beyond a doubt that I was to stay here, that I would survive. I’ve been accustoming myself to living again, and waiting impatiently for you to leave this house. But you never did.”

  “Where did you live?”

  He took a moment to savor the feel of her in his arms. So sweet. Worth it all, worth double what he’d suffered. “In Derby.” Derby was the nearest large town. “I found a position as a clerk, and rode over whenever I could, waiting outside the gates, but you never left. I know some of what has been going on here, but not all, and not from your sweet lips. Tell me, love.”

  She opened her mouth, but before she could speak, someone rapped sharply on the door. “My lady!”

  Without waiting for a reply, the door opened to admit a woman dressed as a nursery maid, a bundle in her arms.

  Vernon’s eyes filled with tears, although he hadn’t been aware of their imminent arrival. The maid shrieked, but kept a firm hold on the bundle.

  Cassandra pushed away from him. “Yes, it is the earl come back to us, Felicity, is it not wonderful news? Come in and close the door. Let his lordship see his son.”

  The maid crossed the room, staring doubtfully at Vernon, and his shop-bought secondhand clothes. “He looks like the earl, my lady, but―”

  “Until yesterday my memory had quite gone from the blow I had received at Waterloo,” Vernon said, having prepared his story. “I remembered late yesterday afternoon and visited Oldmeadow to set matters in train. Please, er—Felicity, do not tell anyone. Not yet. I want to tell them myself.”

  A wicked grin spread over Felicity’s round features. “Yes, my lord, as long as I may be there when you do!”

  “You have my word on it.” Vernon grinned. “Now let me see my son.”

  The squeaking, chirruping noises from the shawl-clad bundle increase and Vernon was eager to see the boy. His son. The maid lowered the shawl and he took the child in his arms for the first time.

  His heart ached and tears ran unchecked down his cheeks. The creased, pink face of the newest Heatherington, the eyes as blue as his own, stared back at him. The mouth pursed, trembled and opened on a shriek so powerful he nearly dropped him.

  He passed the baby to his wife—his wife! And watched her feed their son, gently lifting him to her precious breast, the nipple darker and larger than he remembered it. The boy latched on as though coming home. As Vernon wanted to do, but not for the same reason.

  It was the most beautiful sight he had ever seen. It was all worth it for this. For this moment, watching the two people he loved most in all the world. He had fallen in love with the baby the moment their eyes met.

  When the child fell off the nipple, sated to the point of slumber, Cassandra handed him back to the nurse. “Remember, no word to anyone.”

  “Yes, my lady,” the nursemaid replied with a conspiratorial grin, and she left the room, carrying the child with her.

  Cassandra lifted a finger and touched his cheek, wiping away the wetness that lingered there. “He has your eyes.”

  “He has his own eyes.” Vernon wasn’t ashamed of his tears, but this was no time for weeping. “Oldmeadow told me of your subterfuge. I was never more proud of you, my love. What a clever way to ensure the baby’s safety!”

  “I named him for you, so your name will live on.”

  “Have you forgotten?” He lifted her hand to his lips, kissing the tip of each finger. “Every heir is named Vernon. It’s a family tradition. That means...” He paused, waiting for her.

  She didn’t take long. “Vernon Edward Heatherington. You’re still Vernon! But what shall we call the baby?”

  “Did you not give him another name?”

  She smiled. “Vernon Nathaniel.”

  “Nathaniel. It will be good to be able to call someone Nat.” Another lump formed in his throat but he determinedly swallowed it away. “Kiss me, sweetheart.”

  The world fell away when she brought her lips to his and he held her safe in his arms once more. When she burrowed beneath his clothes, tugging at the fastenings, he helped her.

  The shabby waistcoat, shirt and breeches were rapidly discarded, to join her nightdress on the floor, and they soon lay naked in each other’s arms. He dragged back the covers. “I want to see you, love. I’ve missed you so much!”

  “I missed you too!” Now it was her turn to cry, in great, heaving sobs. He cradled her close, feeling her soft warmth against him, thankful he was here to comfort her, at last.

  He kissed her tears away when the storm had subsided, feeling the drops salty on his tongue, sweetly welcoming to his soul. When she lifted her face to his, he kissed her lips, soothing her with his mouth and tongue, feeling her soften against him, unmistakable signs of arousal to one who knew her well.

  Long, drugging kisses gave way to feverish caresses. He wanted to learn her all over again and the differences carrying his child had made to her body. Next time he would be there, every minute.

  Next time. While it sounded sweet to his ears, he found signs on her that she would never have told him. Slight swellings and a few fine lines. He would not turn her into a baby farm, he decided. Therefore when he lifted himself over her, no longer able to wait, he knew what he would do.

  His decision was nearly driven out by the delirious sweetness of her body welcoming his, the way her body molded around his erection, receiving and welcoming him. He lifted up on his elbows and gazed down into her sweet face. Her eyes were open, her soft brown eyes staring into his with the love they shared. And would share forever.

  “I missed you so badly, but I dared not risk contacting you. A few months means nothing compared to what we have now. Can you bear a lifetime of this?”

  Her soft lips tilted in a smile. “Oh yes. Yes, my love, always.”

  With one hard thrust he filled her, and his soul overflowed with delight. He lost his mind in the next few moments, his body relishing her touch, his senses filled with her presence. She smelled of lavender and springtime, for all it was winter, her hair caressed him when he lowered his body to feel the sweet pressure of hard nipples pressing against his chest. When she cried his name at the height of her ecstasy he held her close, felt her breath hot against his cheek and dragged himself out of her body, spending himself on her belly.

  When he slid to one side, he reached for his discarded shirt to wipe them both clean. He turned to see a question in her eyes, and answered it before she asked. “I don’t want to overtax your strength, my love. You’ve only just had one child.”

  “He’s three months old,” she murmured, snuggling in when he held out his arm. “Isn’t that what I’m here for? The heir and the spare?”

  He chuckled. “You’re here to love me, and to let me love you. That comes first, and for that I need you in the best of health. It’s a small thing, sweetheart. We will have other children, but not yet. Not just yet.”

  “I can’t believe you’re here for good.”

  “You’d better.” He lifted her chin and gave her a soft kiss. “Sleep now, sweetheart. We’ll take our time getting up, shall we? And when you wake up I’ll be here. Not like last time.”

  “No,” she murmured, her voice heavy with slumber. “Not like last time.”

  Chapter Ten

  When she woke up, he was still there and smiling down at her, his blue, blue eyes brimful of love. She smiled back, knowing her eyes reflected the same emotion. He bent and kissed her. “Welcome back.”

  “You look better by daylight.”

  He’d drawn the curtains while she’d slept and the golden winter sun streamed in, spilling over their bodies. The room was warm, as well, and when she glanced over at the fireplace, it was to a comfortable blaze.


  “I let a few of the servants into our secret.”

  She clutched his wrist in sudden panic. “They accepted you?”

  “They did. They were actually pleased to see me. Considering Edward’s reputation, I was a mite surprised, but apparently, William has been making their lives a misery, trying to drive them away. Now a manservant is readying some clothes for me, so I may take you down to dinner and see their faces when they realize they have been choused of everything they’ve been aiming for.”

  She relaxed, and lifted her hand to trace a pattern in the hairs on his chest. “So William knows, too?”

  “No, sweetheart. I told them not to say anything, on pain of instant dismissal. Your excellent butler knows, and the housekeeper, with a footman and your nursemaid.” His eyes flashed in sudden arousal and he bent to kiss her. “When you touch me it’s like a spark to the fire. I thought of getting up now and facing the terrible two, but we definitely have a little time yet.” He bent and kissed her, bringing her delicious warmth, surrounding her with care and love. During her months alone, Cassandra had proved to herself that she could manage, and it had done wonders for her self-esteem, but she was so glad she didn’t have to be so self-reliant any more.

  She responded to his kiss in full measure, opening her mouth under his to receive the caress of his tongue. When he lifted himself over her, she realized she was as hot as he, ready for him. One kiss and she was his.

  He slid inside her, coming home, filling her with himself. “It’s all yours, love, always. You feel better than I could have imagined, better than I deserve.”

  “No, you’re wrong!” She could only imagine what he’d been through in his time away from her, and it was far, far worse than the agonies she’d suffered. “Ah!” She could say no more when he drove, hard and long, deep inside her, forcing her to arch off the bed and press close to him as he withdrew and thrust, withdrew and thrust. He slipped one hand under her waist, dragging her up to meet his thrusts, as she pushed and strained towards the joint objective.