“I mean beautiful, young, desirable women like you, are destined to get married, and not to fat old men who wouldn’t have a bloody clue how to make you happy,” Jamie declared flatly, ignoring his own dishevelled state as he rose to stand beside her.
“Like you would, I suppose?” Cecily mumbled, flicking her hair back and tying it in a haphazard knot at the back of her neck. She flushed with embarrassment at the silence that settled between them. She said nothing more, simply turned around and headed toward the door.
“Cecily, we need to talk about this.”
“Talk away,” Cecily snapped, yanking on the locked door. She began to fumble with the lock only for Jamie to place one large palm on hers halting her progress.
“Turn around,” he demanded, his breath hot on her ear.
“No, we have nothing else to discuss. Let me leave now, please.”
“Cecily, turn around.” Jamie’s voice was cold and hard, and belied the gentle glint in his eye. He wanted to shake her, but was desperately trying not to show his fear. He was aware that if she walked out with things as they were between them, then it was going to be an uphill battle to even get her to talk to him let alone consider being his wife.
Cecily sighed and slowly turned to face him.
“I know you are worried about what just happened, but it is strictly between us. What happens next is something we will share in the marriage bed.”
Her gaze flew to his. Was he really proposing to her? She waited with baited breath for him to declare his affection for her, anything, but she could detect nothing in those cool grey eyes of his.
“I am not getting married,” Cecily declared firmly, her chin tipping upwards defiantly. “I appreciate your erm, offer,” she was unable to keep the disparaging tone from her voice. The very last thing she was going to do was allow him to see just how much his cold-hearted proposal really hurt. “But it is not warranted. As you rightly say, nothing much happened and it certainly does not require us getting married.”
“You don’t seem to realise Cecily,” Jamie bit out, fighting the urge to thump the door in frustration. “We have already been intimate. You have spent the last several days in my home without a chaperone. Society dictates that I now make an honest woman of you.” Jamie mentally winced at the pompous nature of his words, and knew he had made a mess of things.
“Miss Emstridge is also single, and has been living under your roof for far longer than I have I might add. I suggest you offer for her hand in marriage instead. Meantime, I am going back to my room.” With that she turned her back, twisted the lock on the door and froze when Jamie’s hand landed on the door, stopping her from opening it entirely.
“Miss Emstridge isn’t beautiful, beguiling and downright unnervingly adventurous. You know as well as I do that it is only a matter of time before we succumb to more of what we just shared. It is inevitable because you are no more able to resist the temptation than I am. I am just warning you, my darling, that when you do succumb, you will be sealing your fate and will most definitely spend the rest of your life by my side.”
Cecily closed her eyes against the prickle of tears. She fought the quivering of her chin and had to fight to resist resting her head against the cool panel of the door. She hated him in that moment, just as much as she loved him. Her heart pounded at the ruthlessness in his voice. She knew he meant every word, even though there was nothing driving them except desire and his determination not to tarnish the family name by ruining a guest in his home.
“When Hell freezes over,” Cecily ground out, her voice devoid of emotion. Lurching backward she bounced off his chest as she yanked the door open with more force than was necessary. Her cheeks flushed, her eyes bright with tears, she stomped across the upper landing unsure whether she was sad or angry.
Sucking in a huge gulp of air, she didn’t stop to see if he was following. Right at that moment she didn’t care who saw her leave his room. Tears were trickling slowly down her face by the time she slammed the door to her room closed behind her. Wishing there was a key in the lock, she dragged the table across the door for good measure before collapsing on the bed in a flurry of tears.
Humiliation reared its ugly head again driving her to bury deeper into the covers. She hated men. Her father had been cold and ruthless too. Why was it that she always seemed to be stuck with men who had about as much heart as an iceberg?
She knew it wasn’t Jamie’s fault. They barely knew each other after all. He was only doing what he thought was right. But he was wrong to arrogantly assume that they would be intimate again. She couldn’t afford for things to go too far. After all, it was clear now that their futures were going in entirely different directions.
He was secure in the knowledge that he owned the home he lived in. Although he had little or no relatives, he had the affections of his staff who were more of an extended family than paid employees. He had a job with colleagues who were more friends than associates, and people genuinely cared for him. Unfortunately, that included her now too, as much as she hated to admit it.
She rolled onto her back and stared at the lavishly embroidered canopy of the four-poster bed she lay in. It really was rather beautiful. Melvedere, in all of its regal glory, had an elegance that bespoke a timeless grace of old, and would forever remain in her heart. Her heart clenched at the thought of the day when she would have to bid the place, and its master, goodbye. Tears pooled afresh at the thought of Basil who, as daft as he was, he had also stolen her heart.
It would be a very lucky woman indeed who could lay claim to such a wonderful future. However, she knew that woman could never be her. She had spent her days so far being dragged into adventure far beyond what she was comfortable with, and didn’t regret it for one second. However she knew that once the mystery was solved and the routine life at Melvedere settled once more into place, she would be as out of place as the boxes in the secret storage room downstairs. Her life so far had involved nothing but carrying out the orders she had been given. Although her father was no pauper, she had never been the recipient of any of his wealth, and had spent her days fetching and carrying for him, and fulfilling his endless list of orders pretty much the same way as the servants at Melvedere did. She was about as ill prepared to run a house like Melvedere as Basil. With a forlorn sigh, she allowed the tears to fall.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Dusk was falling by the time she awoke. Despite the extra sleep, she felt tired and groggy. Rolling over, she groaned as her stomach clenched painfully. She realised then that she had yet to eat anything that day. A tray of assorted foods lay untouched on the small table beside the bed. Making a mental note to thank Doreen for her thoughtfulness later, she hungrily began to tuck in. At least if she had something to eat now, whatever the time was, she could excuse herself from having to dine downstairs with Jamie again.
A pang of longing swept through her at the thought of the intimate meal she had shared with Jamie last night. The easy camaraderie between them had felt so right, so natural, that she felt a physical sense of loss for what might have been. Although he hadn’t asked her any questions, she wondered if he had been trying to lull her into a false sense of security in the hope that she would divulge something about her father that might be useful to the Star Elite’s investigation of him. After all, she now knew the reason he had offered for her the first time round had been driven by his thirst for information to aid the Star Elite in their investigations. It seemed that there was nothing Jamie would stop at in his quest to unravel a mystery.
She had just finished the last of her cup of chocolate when she became aware of a cold flicker of air across the back of her neck. The hairs on her forearms immediately stood on end, and goose bumps stood out on her bare skin. A shiver laced down her spine. She was suddenly afraid to turn around, to look at the doorway to the secret passage. Closing her eyes, the food heavy in her stomach, she fought the trembling and tried to think calmly and logically. She hadn’t heard any clicking, but the cold,
steady draft was enough to tell her that all was not as it at first appeared.
There was nothing else for it. She slowly pushed to her feet and brushed out her skirts, taking the time to carefully study the half of the room that she could see. What would she do if there was someone standing behind her? Would she be able to make it to the door before they did? What would she do if it was Jamie’s father? Ghosts didn’t appear in the daytime, did they? Sending a silent prayer to the heavens that she would make it through the day, she slowly turned around, her eyes wide with fear.
To her consternation there was nothing there. This time though the cool breeze tickled her cheeks. At first glance the door to the passage was closed. Slowly moving around the bed, it became abundantly clear that the door wasn’t properly latched. Had Jamie left it unlatched accidentally last night? Or had someone been in her room while she had been asleep? Pausing long enough to light a candle, she slowly walked toward the door. It was resting against the panelling, not properly latched.
Easing it open slowly, she lifted the candle and peered into the gloom. Her scream locked in her throat when two firm hands pushed her between her shoulders, propelling her forward into the darkness. The resounding slam of the door behind her blew out the fragile flame of the candle she held and she was immediately encased in darkness.
Trembling, frightened beyond words, her breath sawed in and out as her mind tried desperately to cling on to reality and not give in to the hysteria that threatened. Someone had just pushed her into the corridor. The urge to run was strong. So strong in fact that she found herself moving forward, as though propelled by unseen hands again, but this time logic kept her still.
She had to think like Jamie. What would he do in this situation? She could go back into her bedroom, but the owner of the unseen hands could be in there. She knew enough about the corridor to be aware that there were no stairs for now. Putting her hands out before her like a sleepwalker, she slowly shuffled forward, trying her hardest not to make any sound. Every nerve was stretched taught, every muscle braced for flight. Her ears tuned to any sound of movement in the passage but she could detect nothing. Her eyes scanned the darkness before her. This time she found herself praying for any sign of Jamie’s father. Dead or alive, he would be a welcome sight right now, but there was nothing except for empty blackness.
The journey along the corridor seemed to take an age. At some point, she was fairly certain that she could hear the footfall of another person behind her, or in front, it was really difficult to tell with the heavy silence within the confined space.
Shivering against the cold, she quickened her pace to a steady walk and moved swiftly toward Jamie’s suite on the east side of the house. She daren’t stop, and certainly wasn’t going to look behind her. It was too dark to see the stairs but she could tell from the shifting of the claustrophobic atmosphere, and her vague memory, that she had just passed the winding steps that would take her downstairs. Should she go down to Jamie’s study? Pausing briefly, she contemplated where he might be at that moment only to jerk in alarm at the definite shuffling noise of footsteps behind her.
Terror clawed at her throat. Spinning on her heel, she blindly ran forward, pushing this way and that for any sign of the door to Jamie’s room. She was fairly certain that there was someone behind her and that they were familiar enough with the passages not to need any light as they followed her. Was it the owner of the unseen hands who had pushed her into the passage? Her stomach lurched with sickening fear until her hand landed on a slight dip in the wall. With fumbling fingers she found the circular latch and, with nothing short of desperation, she twisted and pushed at the door.
She stumbled into the room covered in dust, tears trickling steady from her wide, fear-filled eyes. Jamie, who was in the middle of getting dressed, turned around in alarm. His stunned gaze flew from her to the empty doorway behind her and without asking, he knew what had just happened.
“What the hell? Cecily?” He stalked across the room, his eyes running frantically over her from head to toe. She was covered in dust and cobwebs, and was clearly terrified.
“What happened? Are you hurt?” He patted her shoulders, cupped her face and searched her hands, her arms, everywhere for any sign of injury.
Cecily hiccupped and shook her head. “They – he – she – was in my room,” she whispered, “while I was sleeping.” Her eyes were so scared. “They pushed me in there.” She lifted one grubby, trembling hand and pointed toward the open doorway behind her.
“It’s alright, darling. You are safe now.” He murmured soothingly, ordering Warren to move away from the door. He lifted Cecily, and held her for several long moments, savouring the feel of her in his arms while he kicked the door closed. Placing random kisses on her forehead he murmured soothing words to her while she took deep, fortifying breaths in an attempt to steady her nerves. Eventually, she began to relax against him.
“Do you want me to send for a doctor?”
“No, I’m fine,” Cecily quivered, reluctant to release her hold on him. Although she was aware that he was only wearing his breeches, she didn’t care, and ignored the curious butler who was looking on in consternation.
“I’m going to go and check it out,” Jamie whispered, his voice cold and hard. “You stay here with Warren. He will see you get warm, and have some brandy.” He shot Warren a pointed look and only turned away when his efficient butler nodded. “Keep an eye on the door, and don’t let anyone in or out,” he ordered.
“Stay here,” he ordered, pausing only long enough to remove his gun from beside the bed. “Look after her,” he demanded. Despite his unclothed state, he took off into the corridor. The darkness didn’t bother him. He had walked the passage several times himself and had paced the distance between his room, Cecily’s room and the stairs. He covered the entire length of the corridor to Cecily’s room before doubling back, taking the stairs down in record time.
Cursing fluidly, he was breathing heavily by the time he returned to his startled butler and the still shaken Cecily.
“Are you alright?” He knew he kept asking her the same question, but he hated to see her so pale and trembling. He threw a grateful glance at Warren. Luckily the butler had taken great care of Cecily, who now sat in regal glory in his bed, the thick covers draped over her shoulders, and a large dose of his best brandy in her hand. She was hanging on to the glass as though her life depended on it.
“It’s all right, Warren, I will take care of her now.” He flicked the butler a dismissive glance and then stopped him before he left the room. “Discuss this with nobody, Warren. I will tell you all about it later, but for now, the least number of people that know about it, the better.”
Warren nodded warily and flicked a worried glance at the passage door.
“Did you know about the secret passages that run around here?” Jamie demanded. He had seen the butler’s slightly worried look at the panelling and wondered if he had something to hide.
“No sir, I had no idea. Do they run far? How long have they been here?”
“Later, Warren,” Jamie urged, his tone softening slightly at the sight of the butler’s confusion. He had known Warren long enough to know that the man was as genuine as the day was long, and he was thoroughly befuddled by what had just happened, for now at least.
“Do you want me to bring trays up rather than having the lady come down for dinner?”
Jamie nodded and smiled his thanks. “I think that would be best, don’t you? We will eat in the sitting room, but take Cecily’s tray to her room yourself, don’t send Doreen.”
Warren nodded his head once, and disappeared out of the door.
Jamie had no intention of telling Warren that Cecily was going to be eating in his room from now on. He had made certain that the secret door to Cecily’s room was closed firmly. As soon as his dinner tray arrived, he would lock the outer door to Cecily’s room, and collect her tray so they could eat together.
Cecily might be terrified of
the darkness of the passage, but he wasn’t. He relished coming face to face with the person who seemed to revel in frightening the lady of the house. He could only hope that the secret passage user would be in the dark confines of the secret passage when he got his hands on them.
Once again ignoring his partially clothed state, Jamie moved to sit beside her on the bed and drew her unresisting body into his arms. He could feel her trembling even through the blankets, and it unmanned him. He ruefully acknowledged the idiosyncrasy of the moment in that he had finally got Cecily into his bed, only she had to be terrified and half frozen to willingly be there.
“Tell me what happened,” he murmured, urging her to take a sip of her brandy. Several sips eased her trembling somewhat even though she was still pale, but at least she didn’t appear to have been unduly hurt.
Cecily explained in exact detail, and finished in a flurry before taking another fortifying gulp of brandy.
“I am not all that frightened of the passage anymore and would have been fine if someone hadn’t chased me,” she whispered, grateful for the warmth that flushed through her from the alcohol.
“I know, darling. When I get my hands on them, they are going to be extremely sorry they chose to frighten you. Are you certain they didn’t hurt you?” Jamie studied her carefully. The cut on the top of her head was hidden by the thick mass of hair that was curled endearingly on the top of her head. At that moment, it was liberally sprinkled with cobwebs and dust which made her look several decades older than her early twenties. He wondered if this was what she would look like when she was in her fifties, and knew with certainty that he wanted to be the one to find out. She had a timeless beauty about her that didn’t diminish with age.
“I am fine, just a little shaken.” As though her body wanted to contradict her last statement, she shivered once more, almost violently. “Do you mind if I change rooms for the time being? I don’t really want to go back to that room again.”
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