Lord Melvedere's Ghost

by King, Rebecca

  “Of course you can change rooms, only we will keep it secret,” Jamie declared softly.

  “They were in my room, Jamie, while I was asleep.”

  “I know, darling,” Jamie replied, his pale grey eyes turning glacial as he stared harshly at the closed passage door. “They made one fatal error though,” he added, tipping her head back until she was looking up at him.

  “What’s that?” She whispered, her voice trembling with a mixture of fear and desire.

  “They picked on you, and that is something I seriously take very strong exception to.” The blatant possessiveness on his face made her stomach flip and she was helpless to do anything except watch and wait as his head started to lower.

  She should stop him. After what had happened earlier that morning, the very last thing she wanted to do was re-open the argument, but right now she wanted – needed, to feel the comforting warmth of his strong arms around her. Instead of pushing him away, she sat perfectly still and waited.

  This kiss was different to any others he had given her before. This kiss felt like a branding; a sensual invasion to ensure that she was indeed safe and well. It was brief yet thorough, leaving Cecily with no doubt that he could claim her kisses whenever he chose and there was little she could do about it.

  “God, Cecily,” Jamie growled, pressing tiny kisses along her cheekbone toward her ear where he placed random kisses before returning to her lips.

  Silence settled around them interspersed with the ticking of the clock on the mantle. He made no attempt to burrow beneath the blankets that engulfed her, but instead made use of her confinement to plunder and scatter her wits further.

  Despite the onslaught, Cecily revelled in his ministrations. In fact she was slightly shocked by his apparent need to ensure that she was indeed alright. She couldn’t forget the worried look on his face when he had first seen her stumble out of the passage, or the fearless way he had lurched to her defence and chased after her assailant. Sliding one hand out of the blankets, her fingers slid into the soft curls of his hair and tugged his head lower.

  A small part of her warned her that she needed to toughen up a little. When she started life on her own, she would find things extremely difficult and wouldn’t have Jamie around to hold her when she wanted a hug. Right now though, with the memory of those approaching footsteps still echoing in her ears, she couldn’t dig deep enough to find the reserve of inner strength she needed to push him away and leave, and instead tipped her head back, savouring his closeness.

  After all, if she left the room where would she go? The thought of returning to her room alone filled her with dread. Unless she went downstairs and sat by herself throughout the night, there was very little she could do except wait until Jamie told her which room she could use.

  A discrete knock on the door heralded the arrival of Warren with a heavily laden tray. He paused hesitantly inside the door as his gaze landed on Cecily curled protectively in Jamie’s arms. Although his face showed no sign of emotion, he was clearly at a loss to know how best to proceed.

  Jamie ignored the discomfort of his body, and the gentle flush of Cecily’s cheeks, and loosened his hold enough to peer down at her. A conspiratorial look passed between them, accompanied by a gentle wink from Jamie.

  “Did you see them at all?” He asked, nodding to the now firmly closed passage door, grateful for Warren’s discretion.

  Cecily shook her head regretfully, struggling to keep up with the breathless change of pace. “At first, I thought I was alone, but then I heard shuffling behind me and it was coming at me faster and faster.” Her breath hiccupped in her throat.

  The fear on her face was bad enough, but was the quivering of her voice that made his blood boil. Cursing silently, he did a mental inventory of the house and knew there was nothing else for it but to spend another night in front of the fire in the sitting room of his suite of rooms. It really was the only safest place for her right now. He had no idea what they wanted with Cecily, but he was definitely going to find out.

  “Take the tray into the sitting room, Warren,” Jamie sighed, seeing no reason now for having to traverse the corridors with Cecily’s dinner tray. “Take Cecily’s too. We will eat in there together, but don’t bother setting the table because we can eat off the trays for tonight.”

  Cecily jumped, embarrassingly aware of her position so very close to Jamie. “I am sorry, I will go. I shouldn’t even be here.”

  “Nonsense,” Jamie declared firmly, hauling her back against him. “You can hardly go back to that room now, can you?” He didn’t know whether it was the presence of Warren that stopped her argument, or his own strength preventing her from leaving his side, but he was relieved when she gave up and simply slumped against him.

  Cecily didn’t know whether it was the events of the past week, Jamie’s blunt proposal, her worry for Portia, herself or the fear of the passageway but she simply couldn’t withhold the tears. With a hiccup she tried to push against his arms in an attempt to break free but was again relentlessly hauled back against his chest. In the end, with a sniff she slumped against him and gave in to the helpless wave of emotion that cascaded through her.

  Jamie sat and stared at the door blankly, one hand repeatedly stroking her hair over and over while she cried into his chest. He had no idea what had upset her so and hoped it wasn’t what had happened between them. He had taken a long time to ensure she had enjoyed the delights of her own body and he was certain she had enjoyed his kisses just now. Surely it wasn’t his proposal that made her cry so much? Was the prospect of being his wife really so bad? He frowned darkly, and watched Warren re-appear with a second tray. Nodding his thanks he eased his damp shoulder away from her face and tipped his head down to look at her.

  Lordy, she was even beautiful when she was crying, he mused thoughtfully.

  “If you feel up to it, let’s get something to eat. Then we will have a chat about where you are going to sleep tonight.” He kept his tone low in respect to the presence of Warren in the sitting room. He could see no reason now to keep his intentions toward Cecily private, but he wasn’t going to announce her ruination either.

  “I am happy to make up a bed in one of the other guest rooms if you tell me where to find the sheets.”

  “Until I can take another look at that passageway, I don’t think you should be venturing into any of the other guest rooms for now,” Jamie argued, reluctantly pushing away from the bed and holding his hand out to her.

  “I think that we should make a bed up in here for you for now, until we can decide what to do. I am fairly certain that this room is about the safest in the house. You can lock the doors. The other two walls are external and don’t have any passages because the windows are either side of the fireplace.” He didn’t know whether he was saying this for Warren’s benefit, or Cecily’s, but was grateful that neither of them tried to object.

  “I’ll find some bedding sir,” Warren offered. “I can bring in a mattress from the guest room across the corridor and make up a temporary bed in here if you don’t mind me shuffling some of the furniture about.”

  “Good idea,” Jamie replied. “I’ll help you with the furniture before we eat.”

  The men quickly rearranged most of the furniture, moving it toward one of the walls and clearing enough space for one of the mattresses from the nearest guest room. They disappeared again before returning with a second mattress which they placed on top of the first.

  Cecily watched in amazement as a makeshift bedroom was transformed right before her eyes. She stared in delight at the results, and jumped up to take the fresh pile of bedding from Warren.

  “I’ll make it up,” she smiled with delight at the speed in which the men had turned the room into a secure bedroom for her.

  Warren looked at first shocked, then pleased when Cecily began to confidently make the bed, standing back moments later with a satisfied sigh. Jamie was busy plucking lids off the trays and eyeing the contents with an appreciative s
niff and didn’t notice.

  “Please keep all of this to yourself for the time being, Warren. Also, stay away from the walls and keep an eye on the ladies,” he said instead, casting a dark look at his butler.

  “Of course, sir,” Warren replied, clearly affronted at the possibility that he might not behave with the upmost secrecy.

  “It is just that there is something far more sinister afoot,” Jamie’s voice dropped to a dark whisper. His eyes met and held Warren’s meaningfully for several moments. “Someone is using those passageways for criminal purposes and, until we find out who, and exactly what they are doing, I want you and Potter to keep a close eye on everyone.”

  Warren’s back straightened and a militant gleam entered his eye. “I will speak with Potter now sir. I will also take the liberty of being the one who delivers and collects the trays, sir, and will also disarrange the lady’s bed,” he cast a conspiratorial glance at Cecily, “so Doreen doesn’t get wind of any changes and inadvertently mention anything she shouldn’t.”

  “Good idea,” Jamie replied, delighted that there was at least someone watching his back inside the house. It would help considerably if Warren was on alert for any strange behaviour. Even Potter, who spent most of his time outside, would be an extra pair of eyes on the ground, and that could only help. “I’ll say goodnight then.”

  “Thank you, Warren,” Cecily sighed, sitting on the edge of the bed and giving it a testing bounce.

  Jamie smiled, relieved to see the mischievous side to Cecily back again, and shook his head chidingly as she bounced a little too hard and nearly left the bed altogether.

  “When you are finished, let’s eat.” He handed her a tray before taking a seat beside her with his own.

  They ate in companionable silence until most of the food was gone. Cecily couldn’t remember ever having eaten so much. It had only been a short while ago that she had finished the tray in her room. Now here she was, tucking into her second tray of the evening. At this rate, she wouldn’t be able to fit into the passages much less run down them if she was ever chased again.

  Sighing with delight, she carefully placed her much depleted tray beside the door and turned back to the room. The chairs had been rearranged beside the bed, with their backs to the wall, but it was impossible to sit beside the fire there. Instead, she dropped another log onto the fire and sat on the floor.

  A knock on the door heralded the return of Warren, who held a pile of Cecily’s new clothing in his arms. He carefully placed them on the table beside the door and nodded quietly before leaving. Jamie locked the door behind him and turned toward Cecily with renewed determination.

  He wanted to resume where they had left off earlier that morning but knew from the slightly rigid way in which she was sitting that it was the last thing she would be receptive to right now. She had been faced with enough turmoil for one day. He still struggled to control the emotions the sight of her tears had brought forth and wondered if this is what love felt like. The constant need to claim, protect and provide for a mate was almost overwhelming.

  His mate.

  Cecily.

  He knew without doubt that he would protect her with his life, and it had nothing to do with his job, her father or the Star Elite.

  He sat down behind her and drew her back against his chest. His back rested on the end of her bed. At first she tried to resist, glancing back at him with a frown.

  “Just sit back and relax,” Jamie murmured softly, holding his arms still. She eventually acceded to his request and relaxed against him with a sigh. Encircling her waist with his arms, he tried to ignore the intimate way they were sitting and willed his wayward body to behave.

  “I am sorry for being such a ninny,” Cecily whispered staring at their toes so close to the fire. His feet were almost half the size of hers again, and she was very aware of the way his large body seemed to almost envelope hers. It was sinful. It was strangely intriguing. She knew she was being foolish allowing such closeness, but didn’t want the moment to end.

  Her stomach was full. She was nice and warm. The strong arms of one of the kindest, gentlest, yet fiercely protective men she had ever met were wrapped firmly around her. Life didn’t get any better than this.

  “You are not a ninny at all. What you have been through would have buckled most people.” Jamie’s voice was instinctively soft and low. He was delighted with the evening’s progress and made no attempt to hide the satisfied smile from his face as he rested his head gently against hers. “The passage is claustrophobic because it is so narrow and dark. It is a credit to you that you were able to keep a level head and logically remember your way out.”

  “Do you think Miss Emstridge is involved in all of this?” She frowned into the fire, wondering where Miss Emstridge went most of the time. After all, for someone who was supposed to be industriously making lists of the thousands of books in the library, she was hardly ever in there. Surely the woman couldn’t be in her room for all of that time, could she?

  “I think she is up to something. Whether it is stealing books or something else entirely I am not sure, but I am certainly going to find out,” Jamie replied, his voice dark and husky.

  “Have you heard anything about Portia and Archie yet?”

  There was a slight pause. Jamie wished he had heard something, and it was good news, but he hadn’t had any response to the missives he had dispatched to Hugo and Simon. As far as he was concerned, no news was good news, until they had word from Hugo to the contrary. All they had to do was sit and wait for a while and, with nothing else to do, they had plenty of time to uncover the mystery of the fake book in the library, and uncover the identity of the person who seemed to consider the secret passageways of Melvedere manor their own.

  “I am afraid I haven’t heard anything. It could be some time yet, especially if Archie has them someplace safe.”

  “Like here?”

  “Archie has lots of places he could take Portia to keep her out of harm’s reach. She is in the best of care. He won’t allow her to leave, but won’t send word to you until he is absolutely positive it is safe to do so.” He mentally sent a prayer heavenwards that it was indeed the case. The possibility that Archie and Portia had not made it to a safe haven was simply inconceivable. “Hugo, my boss, knows we are here, or will do shortly, and will send word to us as soon as he hears something.”

  Cecily nodded and stared thoughtfully into the fire.

  “What is it?”

  She jumped at Jamie’s whisper, and turned her head to peer up at him. “How did you know I was going to say something?”

  Jamie smiled secretively. “I just do. What is it?”

  Cecily stared blankly into the fire for a moment, slightly unnerved at his ability to read her so easily. After several moments of silence she gave herself a mental shake, uncertain whether she liked him knowing her so well.

  “Do you think Miss Emstridge is a burglar?”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Jamie froze and stared into the fire. A tendril of anticipation flickered through him and he turned slowly to stare down at Cecily’s profile.

  “What makes you ask that?”

  “The boxes in that secret room downstairs,” Cecily replied thoughtfully, aware of his eyes studying the side of her face carefully. “They aren’t familiar to you so the chances are that they aren’t family heirlooms. Even if they were, why aren’t they stored upstairs in all of those unused servants’ rooms? When Doreen took me on the tour, we went upstairs, only briefly you understand.” She flicked a glance up at him. “There were already boxes of family belongings up there, but nowhere near enough to fill the empty space. It doesn’t make sense for anyone to store items they don’t intend to use again in a hidden room where nobody would ever be able to find them.”

  “Unless they belonged in someone else’s house, and the thief wanted to keep them hidden for a while,” Jamie finished for her.

  “I can’t believe anyone in the house is a burglar,” Cec
ily gasped, thinking of the friendly, yet extremely busy, Doreen. Or Mrs Nantwich, Sophie, even the bashful Potter seemed innocuous. “We must be mistaken.” She sincerely hoped they were.

  Jamie sighed deeply. He didn’t want to consider the possibility that any of his staff were thieves either, even the strangely eccentric Miss Emstridge, but his time with the Star Elite had taught him that he couldn’t discount anyone from any investigation until he had identified the real culprit.

  “We just don’t know,” Jamie whispered. “I need to check out Miss Emstridge’s references, and ask a few more questions about her background. If only we could find her. Have you seen her lately?”

  Cecily shook her head, thinking of her long nap this afternoon. She wanted to say, not since I was asleep in my bedroom this afternoon, but knew that was a little unfair on Miss Emstridge, since she had not seen any discernible features of the person in her room. “I haven’t seen her for a couple of days,” she replied with a frown. It was strange to believe that anyone could spend that much time in their room alone.

  Growing up, Cecily and Portia had both spent a considerable amount of time in their bedrooms, but they were mostly together and in each other’s rooms as well. There was very little to do in the guest rooms at Melvedere, except sleep and read. Surely Miss Emstridge couldn’t be that much of an avid reader.

  “It is entirely possible that she spends most of her time reading the books rather than cataloguing them,” Cecily sighed, thinking of the piles of books lying in carefree abandon around the desk. They weren’t treasured pieces, and had received very little respect for the way they had been casually dumped in piles that were apt to fall over.

  “It would explain why she cannot come up with the catalogue she has supposedly been making over the past several years.”

  “Do you think she is guilty of stealing the books, or ornaments?” Cecily turned to stare up at him, intrigued by the way the firelight cast his chiselled jaw into shadow. The stubble on his skin looked sharper when edged encased in shadows, but it was the slightly forbidding expression on his face that made her shiver.