“Take off your clothes.” As he had done earlier with his weapon, she put her thumb on the jutting hammer and pressed with all her strength. The little tongue of metal slid back with a snapping click.
He glanced around the room as if searching for anything that would help him, and shrugged. “Mind if I sit?” Perching himself on the edge of her bed, he tugged off his boots.
Laura watched as he took both off, then peeled off his socks. “Sure you don’t want to join me?” he said as he stood, then pulled off his coat.
“Why not?” Without moving the gun, she forced her other arm to lift enough to rip the shroud off. A sharp stab drove all the way up to her shoulder, and an involuntary grimace pulled her lips back from her teeth as she dropped the shroud.
The man didn’t even seem to have seen that. He stared at the mirror instead, and from the corner of her eye she saw what was in it. The candleflame, the hairbrush, herself, everything was drowned in a dark void. Distorted shapes moved through the nothingness, as though creatures trapped behind a black velvet drape were struggling to break out.
“Hurry!” she said. “Take your clothes off before I let that kill us both.”
The man’s breathing was audible—until a biting cold wind hissed out of the mirror. His eyes widened until the whites were visible. He pulled his shirt over his head, tore at his belt, and unbuttoned his trousers before pushing them off his hips.
Laura dared a glance at the mirror. The glass rippled and pulsed as though it had turned to water. There was no clock in the room, but she guessed it was perhaps a minute to midnight.
“Everything!” she screamed.
The man jerked as if she had shot him. “I’ll freeze!”
“We’ll die.”
Either that or her tone must have convinced him, because he shoved his underclothes down. The gun barrel shook minutely before her and she realized her hand was trembling.
“Quick,” she said. “Put that on.”
“Put what on?”
She tried to point with her other arm, which felt too sore to bend at all. The most she could do was a twitch of the entire limb in the right direction. “The shroud.”
The moment she said it, she knew she had made a mistake. The man’s face tightened, as though he was now more afraid of obeying her than of whatever was in the mirror. But he nodded jerkily and bent down.
Then he grabbed his pistol and flung it at her. She jerked aside reflexively and the pistol crashed into the mirror, splitting it. The candle hissed out.
In the dark, footfalls thudded across the floor. She threw herself flat, but rolled towards the sound. The man’s legs struck her body, and he had been moving so fast that he sprawled clear of her.
Laura dropped her pistol and bolted towards the pile of clothes. Behind her she heard the man struggling to his feet as well.
But she didn’t need light to find the shroud; the feel of it under her fingers was familiar. She snatched it up, turned and flung it over the man as he came at her.
Light shot out of the mirror, blinding as if all the full moon had been compressed into the one split that snaked across the glass. In the white glow, no face showed beneath the cowl of the shroud that stood before her. Only an infinite abyss.
Slowly, the new ghost turned towards the mirror, towards the eternity of its existence, and passed like a mist into the glass. Slowly, the crack sealed itself up and the light faded, leaving her alone in the quiet dark.
Panting, still shivering, she fumbled for the man’s trousers until she found his matches. Then she struck one, lit the candle and hurried into the next room—the long way around—for Justin.
Epilogue
One Year Later
“Don’t the paper flowers look a little…well, economical?” Justin glanced over his shoulder to check, and climbed down off the chair.
“You mean cheap?” Laura asked. “Whether they do or not, I like them.”
He smiled as he dusted the chair’s seat off. Then he took it back to the kitchen, where the oven glowed warm and the cook, Mrs. Rowe, was stirring a kettle of mulled wine on the stove.
With his house becoming a great deal more cheerful over the season, both she and the maid had been more willing to stay, especially when Justin paid them extra. And the fact that he’d invited colleagues over made a difference too. No one would be able to say the Wellands—and by extension, their household help—had provided less than a delightful dinner party.
Laura had finished putting the final touches to the centerpiece in the dining room, and he paused in the doorway to watch her. She wore a tea gown in green velvet with a hint of creamy lace at the throat and cuffs, like a closed rosebud that showed only an edge of petal. The long auburn hair was pinned up now, but it still caught glints of light from the candles.
If the servants all seemed to realize there was something slightly unusual about her, they also knew that she had saved his life. After he’d been shot, he had managed to fashion a crude bandage by the time Laura had hurried back into his room with a candle. Seeing her alive and safe had done wonders for his heart, if not his constitution.
Ben was the next to arrive, since he’d heard the gunshot. He gaped at Laura, probably recognizing the maid’s dress, until she sent him downstairs to close the front door and drag something heavy in front of it. Then she helped Justin into bed while Ben lugged more coal upstairs and built up a fire in his room.
Justin tried to sit up and thought better of it when the pain made him in danger of passing out for real. Laura was steady as a rock beneath his feet, but at the same time, he knew a few more things about getting along in the world than she did, which meant he needed to stay conscious long enough to tell her what to say when the constables put in an appearance.
She brought up a pot of very strong tea, sent Ben down to finish restoring order to the house, and told Justin what she’d done with the robber. “Now he’s the Ghost of Christmas Yet To Come, so I think I’m stuck here.”
Good, he thought as he finished his tea and leaned back against the pillows. Maybe she had been sent here not just for his second chance, but for her own. “I—uh, take it the other one was injured?”
Laura said nothing. She only looked at him over the delicate rim of the china cup, the firelight throwing her features into sharp relief.
He wasn’t sure how someone who could be so caring towards him could also be so icily pragmatic, but that would be one of the intriguing things about having her with him for years to come—perhaps even for the rest of their lives. There would always be hidden depths and unseen sides to her.
“Burn those clothes he left behind,” he said. “And, by the way, you’re my second cousin from Eastbourne. You arrived here via railway, uh, yesterday afternoon.” He’d have to remember to let Ben know, but the coachman had been in his service for years, and wasn’t likely to give him away.
“Would you have sent the servants away if you had to entertain a guest?” Laura asked.
“Depends on the guest.” He thought the constables might understand that, especially if he expressed it in a knowing-wink, man-of-the-world way. “Sadly, your purse and jewelry were both stolen by the man with the gun, who fled the house.”
That might explain why the man had run, and would ensure she wasn’t expected to produce a ticket stub as proof she’d traveled here. By then, it was past one in the morning, and he was exhausted. Laura said she would stay with him in case he needed anything, and Justin’s last thought before he finally let go was that he could get very used to her sleeping in his bed, tucked close against him.
Ben drove out for the doctor before dawn, and by Boxing Day, everything was slowly returning to normal. The constables accepted his explanation of the events, and it didn’t hurt that the two men were wanted for robbing a few other houses. Any lack of detail on Laura’s part was probably put down to her being traumatized
from the experience.
The doctor insisted on Justin having a month’s bed rest, but he felt more than well enough after three weeks of that to propose to Laura. She asked what had taken him so long, and they were married shortly afterwards.
Now it was their second Christmas together, so different from the first—not just because four of Justin’s friends were expected for supper and to spend Christmas Day with them. The house was decorated with ivy and pine boughs and holly knotted with ribbon as red as its berries. Laura had filled wooden bowls with sugarplums and gingerbread. Firelight glimmered off the cutlery, making polished steel look almost like silver. She studied the centerpiece and added an extra candle.
“It looks fine.” Justin straightened up from where he had leaned against the door. She was as lovely as she was fearless, but she was always aware that she didn’t have any real history or background, and she tended to be careful around other people in consequence, making certain nothing gave her away. But neither of them needed or wanted to make a grand splash in society, so they’d start in small ways, taking those steps together. He held out an arm and drew her into an embrace when she came to him. She felt warm and supple against him, the grey eyes already soft as she tilted her head up.
“Do you know what the mistletoe means?” he asked.
Laura blinked. “Of course.”
“Oh. Sorry, I didn’t think you’d ever seen any before.”
“I read, you know.” She leveled a look that dared him to underestimate her again. “So I went out this morning and cut a little more.”
Justin couldn’t remember seeing any more mistletoe. “Where is it?”
Her lips curved. “Above our bed.”
“Of course.” He smiled back.
“And the sofa.”
“Wait, did you put one up in each place—”
“And your desk.”
“Apparently so.”
“But then I ran out.”
Justin laughed, and as her arms went up around him, he made a mental note for more mistletoe next year. Then he lowered his head for her kiss.
About the Author
Marian Perera started reading fantasy when she was six years old and found a huge hardcover copy of The Lord of the Rings. Her parents replaced that with a more age-appropriate paperback of The Hobbit. Later she discovered another book with an adorable bunny rabbit on the cover. That was Watership Down. She had to wait ten more years for romance novels, but once she discovered those she never looked back, and now combines the two for maximum fun.
Marian was born in Sri Lanka, grew up in Dubai, studied in the United States (Georgia and Texas), worked in Iqaluit and lives in Toronto. For now. With six hot fantasy romances published, she’s just getting started. She blogs at marianperera.blogspot.com, and loves to hear from readers—send her an email at [email protected] or join her on Twitter @MDPerera. There’s also more about her stories at www.marianperera.com.
Look for these titles by Marian Perera
Now Available:
Eden Series
Before the Storm
The Deepest Ocean
The Farthest Shore
The Highest Tide
The Coldest Sea
Coming Soon:
The Ghosts of Christmas
Christmas Past
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He fights to break the ice trapping his ship. She fights to melt the ice binding his heart.
Eden Series, Book 5
After a broken betrothal, musician Maggie Juell boards the ship Fallstar, hoping enough time and distance will change her ex-fiancé’s mind. Fallstar is nothing like she expected— and neither is its brooding, darkly handsome captain.
Deeply bitter over his last ship’s sinking, Captain Vinsen Solarcis is embarking on the final voyage of his career. Though he’s drawn to Maggie’s warmth and courage, he reminds himself she’s in love with another man fool enough to jilt her.
When they encounter a foreign castaway who claims more survivors are stranded on a giant iceberg, Vinsen sails to the rescue—only to find they aren’t quite so helpless after all. Fallstar is trapped within a magical wall of ice.
Vinsen and Maggie share a single passionate night before he leads a desperate mission to free his ship. But Maggie has no intention of being left behind…although the cold, blue heart of the iceberg holds secrets darker than she ever imagined.
Warning: Contains a woman who had her heart set on marrying the right man, but finds herself falling for the wrong one. A giant bear, raunchy banter, sex in inappropriate places, and not nearly enough ice to cool their desire down.
Love as strong as the tide. Betrayal as cruel as an undertow.
Eden Series, Book 2
Moments before he sets sail into pirate waters to rescue prisoners, Captain Darok Juell receives additional orders—to take a mysterious woman on board who will help him in his mission.
When she arrives, she is unlike any woman he has ever seen. A cold, controlled operative of Seawatch, Yerena Fin Caller wields an iron hand over her emotions, and an almost magical control over a great white shark.
On the surface, her orders are simple: use her shark to guide Darok through dangerous waters, attack any pirates who interfere. Her emotions must remain under lock and key, lest they travel along her delicate connection with the finned killing machine below.
As she and Darok navigate the Strait of Mists into the Iron Ocean—and evade a killer- whale-controlling traitor—Darok’s generosity and warmth coax Yerena to give in to desire. But they have no future together. Especially if Darok’s legendary recklessness forces her to obey a secret order to send his ship to the bottom of the sea…
Warning: Contains naval battles, a shark that enjoys winning races, a woman who can control the shark—sometimes, the captain who wants her in his bunk, and hot sex on the high seas.
He’s racing for a prize. She’s running for her life. And they’re on a collision course.
Eden Series, Book 3
Captain Alyster Juell is relishing the taste of his first command for the fleet of Denalay.
The steamship Checkmate doesn’t carry weaponry, but that doesn’t matter. His mission is to win an ocean-crossing race—and its hefty prize.
As the voyage gets underway, Alyster hits his first snag—there’s a stowaway on board, a reporter who poked around for information about his ship the day before. And it’s too late to turn back.
Miri Tayes didn’t intend to stow away. She was forced to run for her life when a colleague discovered her secret: She can pass for normal but she’s a half-salt—daughter of a Denalait mother and a pirate father.
Despite her lack of seaworthy skills, Miri works hard to earn her keep, and Alyster, taken with her quick wit and steely nerve, falls for her. But as the race intensifies and the pirates use a kraken to hunt down Checkmate for its new technology, the truth could be the most elusive—and dangerous—prize of all.
Warning: Contains a reporter hiding a dangerous secret and the captain who’d like to strip her bare in more ways than one. Also pirates, prejudice and passion.
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This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.
Samhain Publishing, Ltd.
11821 Mason Montgomery Road Suite 4B
Cincinnati OH 45249
Christmas Yet To Come
Copyright © 2015 by Marian Perera
ISBN: 978-1-61922-745-3
Edite
d by Anne Scott
Cover by Gabrielle Prendergast
All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
First Samhain Publishing, Ltd. electronic publication: November 2015
www.samhainpublishing.com
Christmas Yet To Come (The Ghosts of Christmas) Page 7