Lord Melvedere's Ghost

by King, Rebecca

  “But why are they chasing us?”

  “Because of the connection to your father who knows a lot about their operation, and has been paying the English money back to the French spies to use in our country.”

  “So my father and his friends were selling their goods for them, pocketing some of the money and handing the rest back to the French?”

  Jamie nodded slowly. He wanted to tell her the rest; that the men their father had picked out for them were two of the men who had sold the most goods, but knew there was no benefit in her knowing about it. Jamie had no idea if there had been any sort of business agreement there, or whether their father had just wanted to improve his business connections by being related to wealthy men. It didn’t really matter now, because none of them had any wealth or any freedom to make choice about their own lives, let alone anyone else’s.

  “I am afraid you cannot see him,” Jamie sighed, feeling slightly uneasy about her silence.

  “I never want to see the man again,” Cecily declared quietly. “He is a father by blood only, and has certainly never considered us.” She struggled to absorb just how devious and grasping her father had been. Her own flesh and blood was a traitor to king and country.

  She knew she had no involvement in any of it, but she still felt ashamed being associated with him.

  “Are you alright?” Jamie whispered, alarmed by the fine trembling in her fingers.

  “I am so angry right now that I could hit him,” she ground out. “How could he do this? How could he lose all of his morals, and turn traitor on his own country? On all of us?”

  “He is on his way to Bodmin jail soon for questioning.”

  “Good, I hope they throw away the key,” Cecily snapped, releasing her hands from his and stalking toward the window. She had always tried to do her best by her father. She had always minded her manners and tried to be a good daughter. In return he had been mean, miserly and about as cold hearted as anyone could be, but this was a new level of selfishness that was impossible to ignore.

  Cecily felt as though she had just been slapped across the face. Her mind raced. A sickening wave of shame swept through her. She was a daughter of a traitor. She shouldn’t even be in Jamie’s house, let alone eating his food. She folded her arms across her waist and cupped her elbows in her hands, but it did little to stop the chill that had swept through her. She felt so very cold now; so very cold and alone. She ached to be able to speak to Portia.

  Turning on her heel she stared hard at Jamie. “Does Portia know?”

  Jamie shook his head. “Hugo hasn’t said as much, but I doubt it. Archie will tell her as soon as Hugo can get word to him.”

  “Will my father hang?”

  Jamie stared at her and twisted his lips. “Probably, but I am not a judge. His crimes are many, and involve acts of treason and that, unfortunately, draw the severest punishment going.”

  Cecily turned back toward the window and stared blankly out at the beautiful landscape. She saw little of the rolling hills and narrow yellow ribbon of driveway. It had all seemed such a long time ago when she had rolled down the drive on her arrival at Melvedere. So much had happened in such a short space of time that she wasn’t sure what to make of any of it.

  “Are you alright?”

  Cecily jumped. She hadn’t even heard him move. The weight of his hands on her shoulders felt heavy and uncomfortable, and she shrugged them off to move toward the fire.

  Silence settled between them for several moments.

  “Did Hugo say anything else?”

  “Nothing,” Jamie lied. Everything else Hugo said was Star Elite business, and nothing he was at liberty to discuss with Cecily. “Just that he is coming to ask you a few questions about your father’s activities.”

  Cecily spun on her heel and stared at him in horror. “I didn’t have any involvement in any of it!” She cried, horrified at the thought that he should consider such a thing.

  Jamie held his hands in a placating gesture. “I know, darling. You only have to look at the last few days to know that. Everything points to your father, not you. We have seen enough of your house to know that your father’s lifestyle and yours were completely different. Your innocence is absolute.”

  Cecily still didn’t feel mollified and moved toward the fire. She felt like Basil, and wanted to climb onto to hearth to absorb the heat no matter which part of her got singed.

  “In most people’s eyes, I am guilty by association though.” Her voice was dull and listless. She knew then that another door had just closed on her. There was no possibility of going back to her life in Tissington now. Not that she wanted to, but it just felt as though her life was spiralling out of control and she had no way of stopping it. She was also startlingly aware that her entire wellbeing at that moment depended on Jamie. Without him, she had absolutely nothing except for the clothing he had purchased for her.

  “You are not guilty, and only the most foolhardy person would ever consider you so. Besides, who is going to know of your association to your father?”

  “Do you mean that this isn’t going to be all over the broadsheets by morning?” Cecily scoffed angrily.

  “I can assure you that it isn’t,” Jamie announced firmly. “The Star Elite don’t have a practice of announcing their activities to anyone, least of all half of the country through the broadsheets. This is going to be kept strictly confidential, even when the operation is over and the spy ring has been closed down. There is nobody who is going to find out about this, Cecily. Your father, Portia, and you, are all going to disappear, and so will your father’s colleagues. People will talk about where they might have disappeared to, but the families of the men arrested will not want to make their activities public either. They too will want to keep their association to traitors a secret.”

  Jamie mentally winced at his choice of wording, and knew he had just made matters a little bit harder for himself. For his part, he didn’t care about Cecily’s father. There was little resemblance there either in looks or behaviour. He had no doubt that none of the Star Elite considered either Cecily, or Portia, involved in the smuggling operation.

  Cecily looked at him and knew then what he secretly knew that anyone related to a traitor would and should feel shame, like she did. But that also drew a clear line down the middle of the room, with her on one side and him on the other. She had little choice but to spend the rest of her life knowing that her father had been hung for treason. Jamie didn’t deserve to have his name tarnished by being associated with her.

  She thought briefly of his offer of the Dowager’s house and knew that even that was another door now closed to her, and all because of her selfish and greedy father. She hated him with all of her might, and wished him to Hades for what he had done to her, and Portia. She mentally winced at the thought of Portia’s burgeoning relationship with Archie, and wondered what this latest turn of events would mean for their future. Archie was a decent man but he, like Jamie, were putting their lives on the line to fight criminals like their father. It was only right that they would have the upmost contempt for their enemy.

  Jamie didn’t like the growing tension that hovered in the air. He wanted to reassure her that people wouldn’t judge if they ever found out, but he knew they would. He knew that Cecily and Portia were completely innocent, but only because had investigated and had access to the finer details. Other people wouldn’t have access to so much privileged information.

  “Look Cecily, whatever your father is guilty of doesn’t make you guilty too. Everyone I work with, everyone who has spent a long time working on this mission, are fully aware of your innocence. We don’t judge and condemn until we get the facts straight. It is clear that your father’s actions have put the lives of both of his daughters at risk. You are free to live the rest of your life as you choose.”

  “I have no life now,” Cecily snapped, spinning on her heel to stare at him. “I have nothing. I only have the clothing on my back, which you purchased for me. I h
ave nothing, Jamie,” she gasped, furiously swiping at the tears on her face.

  Jamie wished he could argue, but she was right. By the time the Star Elite had finished and the estate freed, any will would have to be taken into account, and it was highly unlikely that Cecily, or Portia, would be left with anything.

  “It isn’t really relevant, is it? The fact is that you are here safe and sound, and here is where you are going to stay,” Jamie announced firmly.

  Cecily turned to stare at him. A small part of her was fervently waiting, hoping, that he would make some declaration of affection, anything to show he cared. Instead he was perched on the end of the bed discussing her future as though reading the headline news on a broadsheet.

  “I can’t stay,” Cecily replied, shaking her head. She carried on when Jamie took a breath to argue. Despite the fact that she was crumbling inside, her back straightened and she turned to stare at him. “I will stay until Hugo arrives to ask his questions but when he goes, I will prevail upon his good nature to drop me off at the nearest poor house. There is no option.”

  “What!” Jamie shouted, lunging off the bed. “The hell you are!”

  “I have no choice,” Cecily shouted back, holding her arms aloft. “You know what my father has done. I cannot stay under your roof a moment longer than I have to. You don’t deserve to have your name sullied by being associated with me.”

  “I will roll over in my own bloody grave before I stand back and allow you to go to a poor house,” Jamie bit out. “Why the hell is marriage to me so bloody offensive? I know you find me appealing, your kisses attest to your interest in me. We get along well enough. Melvedere is a big enough house for you to turn into your own home, and there is more than ample room to accommodate any children we might have. What could you possibly find so objectionable?”

  “Nothing,” Cecily whispered, knowing with all of her heart that if she had any other choice she would have remained with him until the day she died. But she couldn’t be in a relationship with someone who didn’t care about her as much as she cared about him. Although he was kind and honourable, the knowledge that he had spent years of his life fighting men like her father that he would be related to, would be impossible to ignore. “There is nothing objectionable, except for the fact that I am the daughter of one of England’s biggest enemies. That and that alone, is enough to ensure that I shall never marry you.”

  Ignoring his stunned look, she walked on trembling legs across the bedroom and out of the door, not stopping until she had left the house completely and was sitting in the pagoda at the far end of the garden.

  The scent of honeysuckle was redolent in the air but, with her feelings in so much turmoil, the gentle aroma it did little to soothe her shattered emotions.

  Jamie followed her and watched her walk into the pagoda before moving into his study. She looked so lost and forlorn that it was all he could do not to go after her. He knew Jonathan, and his colleagues were out there somewhere and would keep an eye on her, but he needed to see for himself that she was safe.

  Their argument bothered him greatly and he knew now that he should have withheld the information about her father until their relationship was on a much firmer footing. But he had no idea how long it would be before Hugo appeared, and Jamie had wanted to be the one to tell Cecily about her father.

  Now though, having botched it, he was at a loss to find a way forward. He was a planner, a deep thinker. Someone who analysed, assessed, plotted and planned before doing anything. But this was an entirely different matter altogether and he was wading through waters on unsteady feet. He had no idea what he was doing, or where he was going wrong.

  Cecily was averse to marrying him before news of her father, yet upstairs she had given him her father’s treachery as an excuse. Was it just that she didn’t care for him at all? Was the passion between them purely desire, and not grounded on anything except carnal need? He immediately dismissed that notion with an abrupt shake of his head. Cecily was untried, not some wanton harlot. She may be intrigued, but she wasn’t reckless.

  Turning his back on the window, he sat down at his desk so he could keep one eye on her still sitting in the sunshine. Pushing the work aside that was waiting for him, he turned his thoughts back to his future, yet reluctant bride.

  What now?

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Cecily spent hours in the pagoda fretting about Portia, herself, and regretting her last words to Jamie. Although she meant them, she felt guilty for her cruelty. He had been nothing but kind and generous to her since, well, ever since meeting him for the very first time at the Tissington ball. At least he hadn’t lied about having feelings for her.

  She was fairly certain though that she did love him. Her stomach flipped whenever she saw him, and the world seemed a much nicer place when he was around. She missed him when she didn’t see him and that was ridiculous because they were never apart from each other for more than a couple of hours at a time.

  If her circumstances had been different, and she had not been related to a traitor, then she would seriously have considered his offer, as long it was accompanied by true and honest feelings of love. Without that, they had nothing but a burning desire for each other that seemed to keep getting stronger and stronger with each day that she remained in his house. She could only hope that Hugo wouldn’t take too long to get there so he could ask his questions, and she could leave, preferably before she did something rash and self defeating like allow Jamie to take whatever liberties he wanted with her.

  Until Hugo did arrive, all she had to do was avoid Jamie. It shouldn’t be all that difficult, could it?

  Jamie had other ideas. He eventually relented to the need to reduce some of the paperwork on his desk and started to plough through the parchments while keeping one eye on Cecily. He wondered if she was hungry yet, or thirsty, or whether he should just go out there and sit with her for a while. But she clearly needed to be alone.

  Hours later, he was engrossed in one parchment and briefly glanced up, jumping with surprise to find the pagoda empty. Dropping the parchment on the smooth, glossy surface, he circled the desk and studied the lawns. No sign of her. Racing to the door, he threw it open and glared at Sophie, who was busy sweeping the hallway.

  “Where did Cecily go?” He demanded with a dark scowl on his face.

  Sophie jumped back in alarm and pointed up the stairs toward the guest rooms. “I think she went to her room, sir.”

  Jamie stalked past her and took the stairs two at a time. He tried the hallway door to her makeshift bedroom, but it was locked. Entering his bedchamber, he stalked through his dressing room and tried the handle, but that too was locked.

  “Cecily?” He knocked. “Cecily, open this door.” He knocked again and waited. “At least growl, something, anything to let me know you are alright.”

  “Go away,” Cecily whispered from the opposite side of the door.

  “Let me in, Cecily,” Jamie demanded, rattling the door knob.

  “Just leave me for now, Jamie,” Cecily replied, turning away from the door. She sat on the window seat and curled her legs up before her glad that Jamie appeared to have given up for now.

  Jamie stood on the opposite side of the door and studied the lock. One swift, hard kick would be all that it would need, but he didn’t know if there was a spare lock in the house to replace it with, and he couldn’t afford to leave one of the doors half hanging off its hinges. Cecily needed to be able to lock the door at night, if only to keep him out.

  “If you don’t come out by this evening, I am going to kick the bloody door down,” he growled knowing she could hear him. After several moments of silence, he made his way back down to the study and wondered if he could ever put things right.

  As it was, Jamie didn’t make it back up to her room later that evening. Determined to achieve at least something with his time at home, he turned his attention to the business matters on his desk with ruthless determination. He paused briefly to eat from
the tray Warren brought him and asked if anyone had checked to make sure Cecily was all right, only to learn that she hadn’t answered the door to Warren either.

  Fine, let her sulk, Jamie thought churlishly. She would come out when she got hungry enough. The news she had received had been shocking enough, she would be inhuman not to be struggling with the import of it. At least she knew that Portia was alive and well. As long as Archie kept her that way, that was fine.

  Now all he had to do was persuade her that life at Melvedere was better than anything the poor house had to offer. He as a little insulted that he was even considering trying to persuade her to make a choice. As far as he was concerned, there was no choice. He had more than enough money to provide her with anything she wanted, whenever she wanted it. She found him desirable. They got on well together. So what was wrong with her? Was he not the knight in shining armour she had expected? He didn’t care what she expected; he was all she was going to bloody well get, tarnished and slightly battered armour and all.

  He frowned and considered the ceiling for a moment. Closing the book on his desk he paused, and stared absently at the fireplace. Had Warren missed something? Was Cecily really all right?

  A cold feeling began to settle around him. Cecily hadn’t eaten dinner. Was she still in her room? Dread settled low in his stomach and he shoved roughly away from his now clear desk. Racing across the room, within seconds he was tearing up the stairs without a backward glance.