Rebecca's Ghost

by Marianne Petit

  “She blames his lack of tongue on me. Practically came out and said ‘tis because the boy wants my attention.”

  Could she be right? Could it be his fault?

  Tyler shook his head. “You have done all that is required of you. All that can be expected.”

  The accusations she had thrown at him earlier had eaten away at him bit by bit all morning.

  Argumentative, annoying, she was indeed a paradox, especially when she defended his honor to Nora. He’d overheard her talking to her upon his arrival at breakfast.

  Guilt wormed its way across his mind.

  He glanced to the window.

  Ever since she came into his household, she’d done nothing but stir up feelings of self doubt and dredge up old ghosts. She made him think; deal with a part of himself he tried to hide; look at reality.

  His fist hit the table with a crack.

  “You are right. I shall not let her blame me for everything that is wrong with the boy. I did what I thought was right and shall continue to do the same.”

  Somehow, those words did nothing to satisfy the guilt still burning in his chest.

  Chapter Twelve

  Katherine watched the slender, well turned out man step off the plank walk and into the street.

  His wide brimmed hat, encircled with a blue band, accented his blue striped jacket and embroidered gold and blue taffeta waistcoat with perfection. His appearance surprised her. The information she’d acquired about his shady reputation, painted a different picture. She had thought to find someone dressed a little… well, less like a gentleman and more like a thieving cutpurse.

  Two women strolled past him. He tipped his hat and smiled. With a demure giggle, the young women smiled back and went about their way.

  Isn’t he quite the ladies man with that charming smile

  She strolled over to him. “Jonathan Tisdale?”

  He stopped short.

  She noticed how his gaze quickly scanned her person, then shifted around her as though he were checking the street in case her appearance was some kind of entrapment. “And whom may I inquire is asking?”

  “Katherine Abigail Wellsworth.” She held out her hand.

  He hesitated.

  She raised a brow and stared at him, challenging him to disregard her.

  She’d traveled four hours in a tattered old carriage in the summer’s sweltering heat to come to this God forsaken town, and she meant to get what she came for—him.

  He took her hand and kissed her fingertips. “Charming.” He released his hold. “And why may I ask, do I have the honors?”

  She stepped to his side and hooked her arm in his. “Not here in the street. Let us talk elsewhere.”

  He nodded in agreement and led her to a nearby tavern. They sat at a table in the corner of the noisy dark room.

  She studied him closely. He was quite handsome, for a man, she guessed was in his forties. His face, although not overly masculine, had a certain boyish appeal to it.

  A smoldering sexual heat radiated off him like the sizzling wet residue left by a doused fire.

  A hot gush of wanting spread across her body.

  In his hazel eyes, she saw the confident look of a man who knew the forcefulness of his masculinity.

  Did his daughter have the same appealing attributes?

  A stab of anger jabbed her.

  Perhaps Philip was as taken in with the harlot as those women were with her father.

  She forced a coquettish smile. “You are quite a hard man to find.”

  It had taken her informant over a month to locate him. And Sam knew where to find just about every con artist there was.

  “And I’d like to keep it that way.” He grinned wickedly.

  A sultry ripple of desire centered in her womanly folds. She shifted in her seat. “Even from your daughter?”

  “Elizabeth? You know where she is?” His eyes lit with interest.

  Katherine reached to her side, unhooked her fan and waved the black lace before her face. “I might.”

  She studied him carefully.

  If she told him where to find the little witch, what would keep them from staying nearby where Philip could pay court to her? She needed both father and daughter far away, across an ocean or two.

  “But first…” she snapped the fan shut, leaned forward and ran her finger over his hand. “Let us talk.”

  His smile showed straight teeth. “By all means.” He sat back in his chair, reached in his pocket and pulled out a cheroot.

  “Your reputation as a doctor precedes you.”

  “I am a professional.” He lit the tobacco and took a puff.

  She noticed he couldn’t keep his gaze from her bosom. She took a deep breath accentuating her cleavage.

  “A professional what… sawbones of the mind?” she asked coyly. “You’ve bamboozled quite a few half-witted souls with your mystical trickery, haven’t you?” She smiled demurely.

  Eying her coolly he slowly blew out a puff of smoke.

  The vile smelling vapor wafted in her face. Her eyes teared.

  He grabbed her hand and he casually appraised her as though he hadn’t heard her just accuse him of being a cheat.

  “Those are strong words for such a charming lady,” he said, his voice as smooth as cream. He brought her hand to his lips and kissed her lightly. “Where are earth did you hear such mistruths?”

  The insides of her thighs quivered. “From a very reputable source.”

  She slipped her hand from his hold and seductively nibbled her finger, tasting the residue of his cheroot in her mouth.

  Studying her silently, he took another puff, then exhaled. “I’d say your source doesn’t know a thing about Franz Mesmer’s work, nor mine.”

  He glanced around the crowded room and snapped his fingers to get the barmaid’s attention.

  “Then enlighten me.” Katherine slanted a coy glance in his direction and leaned closer, knowing the hard tips of her breasts protruded slightly from her bodice.

  Slowly, he dragged his gaze from her bosom. He inhaled once again, crushed the cigar into a wooden bowl and exhaled.

  “Did you know a magnetic fluid flows through everyone and everything?”

  “Really, how utterly interesting.” There was fluid flowing, all right, building between her legs.

  “I harness that universal fluid by using my hands.” His voice dipped lower. He leaned forward in his seat. “‘Tis a technique I think you might enjoy watching.”

  He articulated each word with a deliberate slowness that lured her toward him like a fly to a spider’s web.

  “Perhaps you might even participate. ‘Tis quite a healing process of both intellect and body.” His torrid whisper aroused all kinds of carnal images.

  “So you play with people’s minds.” She ran her finger across his jaw.

  Lust smoldered in his brown eyes.

  That wasn’t all he liked to play with. The thought set her blood aflame…

  “‘Tis all in the motion of my wrist.” Like a magician waving his wand, he flicked his fingers, grabbed the back of her hand, brought her finger to his mouth and sucked.

  Her heart thumped.

  A heavyset woman hobbled over to the table. “What’ll it be?” Her voice croaked like a frog.

  The mood broken, Katherine snapped her hand away. ‘Twas just as well, lest she forget her purpose for being here: Elizabeth.

  “The lady and I shall have champagne.”

  Katherine’s brows rose in approval.

  “We ain’t got that fancy stuff here.” The barmaid wrinkled her nose in disgust. “Ale and house port is what we got.”

  “Then port it is,” Jonathan said with a charismatic gesture.

  The woman grunted, then, on heavy feet, padded away.

  Deep in thought, Katherine’s gaze roamed the room.

  This was just the type of place she’d come from long ago. Noisy, crowded with big mouth drunks and filled with smoke.

  She w
atched a bowlegged man stagger up to a group of women who stood near the bar. With a grin, he slapped some money down and a tall redhead slipped her arm through his. His big belly swayed as they trudged up the stairs.

  Katherine ground her teeth. She’d spent one too many nights upstairs in dumps like this one; with one too many pigs like that one. Though her former life had landed her a rich husband and a way out, she’d vowed never to go back.

  Her attention back on Tisdale, she watched his gaze follow the couple up the stairs.

  She rubbed her chin thoughtfully. The stakes were higher in this game. Philip was a prize worth breaking her promise over.

  “I would love to see your office.” If she had to use her body once again, to get the information she could hold over his head, so be it.

  She needed something that would get rid of him and that bitchy daughter of his; something that would keep them from returning to Virginia and far away from Philip. She stared at him adoringly, enticing him with her eyes.

  “I’d love to bring you up to my flat.” He smiled roguishly. “But since I just arrived in town, I haven’t had the time to find the appropriate space.”

  His gaze scanned her body, slowly. “I could show you a bit of what I do. But we’d need a quieter, more private place.” Once again, he glanced upstairs, his meaning quite clear.

  “But of course.” She smiled sweetly, and extended her hand.

  ‘Twould be somewhat ironic that she fuckled the father, while the man she adored sheltered the daughter in his home.

  A stab of jealously stiffened her spine.

  Tisdell’s chair scraped the wooden floor as he quickly rose. His hand in hers, he helped her rise and they slipped past the crowded tables.

  The barmaid sauntered toward them carrying a tray and their drinks.

  He leaned in and whispered in her ear.

  Her chin jutted toward the stairwell.

  He nodded in acknowledgment, tossed a coin to the tray, picked up the two pewter cups and gestured she led the way.

  With a swish of her full skirt, Katherine moved quickly up the stairs and down the long dark corridor.

  Tisdale pointed to the third door on the right.

  They entered and he closed the door behind him.

  A shroud of darkness embraced them.

  She heard him make his way across the room; heard the plunk of metal as he placed the cups on a table.

  A spark flashed as flint struck steel, then a soft light fanned out from a lantern.

  “My dear…” In a showman like manner he turned his hand toward the bed. “Come sit and we shall begin.”

  She slid across the room, settled into the mattress and sheepishly swept her gaze up at him. “Here?” she asked, knowing full well in a moment she’d be flat on her back, purring like a kitten and have him exactly where she wanted him.

  His gaze slid down between her breasts and up across her body like a slithering snake about to devour its prey.

  “Perfect. Just perfect.” He placed his hands on her shoulders and turned her slightly toward the light.

  His fingers touched her skin and felt warm against her flesh.

  Standing before her, his voice took on a trace-like tone. “Some of my patients remain quiet and calm during their experience.”

  He took her hands in his and held them palm against palm. “Others are rocked by the extraordinary force of my healing. Their contractions have been known to persist for more than three hours.”

  “And what do you do in that time?” she asked demurely.

  His brow cocked. “Why I watch, of course,” he whispered, “till they are calmed.”

  She bet he enjoyed watching; she did. “Do your patients, recall the experience?”

  “Oh. You shall remember every little relaxing game we play.” He squeezed her hands.

  She could just imagine what kind of wicked toys he liked to use. A warm fluttered contracted her loins.

  “Just relax. Take a deep breath,” he commanded softly.

  Heat radiated from his palm and tingled up her fingertips.

  “Breathe.” His chest heaved in rhythm with hers. “That’s right. In and out. In and out.”

  She took a deep over exaggerated breath.

  “This looks so tight.” He let go of her hands and slipped her bodice off her shoulders. “That will help.”

  Oh, he’s good. Really good. But I am better.

  She opened her mouth to speak.

  “Shss.” He placed his hand against her lips, quieting her. “Don’t talk. Just close your eyes and relax. That’s right, listen to my voice. Picture yourself in your favorite place.”

  She imagined lying in her boudoir surrounded by fluffy pillows and downy quilts.

  “See the place. Smell the fragrances…”

  The hefty aroma of wine, mixed with stale tobacco filled her nostrils as his breath fanned her face.

  His voice soft, monotone, he continued. “Experience the surroundings.”

  Katherine imagined Philip’s hands caressing her shoulders, traveling across her chest and down between her cleavage. Only ‘twasnt his touch she felt.

  She shuddered.

  “Are you relaxed?”

  “Oh yes.” She groaned. What an actress. She snapped her eyes open and stared up at him. “Very.”

  “Good.” He took her lips between his and sucked them till they throbbed. Savagely he plunged his tongue between her teeth.

  After a few minutes of pleasure, she broke from his lips. “What happens next, Doctor?” she asked coyly.

  He stood and dropped his hand between his legs. “Usually I touch my patients with a long metal rod.” Slowly he opened the flap of his breeches. Hard, swollen, surrounded by coarse black hair, his manhood distended before her like a stiletto.

  “Sounds dangerous and quite wicked.” She licked her lips.

  “You like danger, don’t you?” He leaned forward and bent down. His warm breath fanned her cheeks.

  She glanced at the junction of his legs. “Danger is like a thick-veined scarlet fruit…” her gaze lifted, “…once tasted, one begs for more.”

  He took a deep breath, and backed away.

  Kneeling, he lifted her dress from her ankles. He eased the fabric over her knees. His fingers crept up her leg to the top of her silk stocking.

  Her pulse raced.

  Farther still they crept, till she felt his hot hand on her thigh.

  “Sweet crumpet,” he said, his warm breath brushing her mouth. “I’d like to dip into your honey pot.”

  At the junction of her thighs, his fingers swirled their way through the bristle of hair protecting her other, more delicate lips.

  She slammed her hand against her skirt, stopping him. “Not so fast.”

  Confusion darkened his eyes.

  “Give me your hand,” she ordered.

  He slipped his fingers from her person and she licked them one by one, then indicated he sit beside her.

  As soon as the mattress creaked with his weight, she shoved him back against the bed, stood and yanked off his breeches.

  “So you want some sugar? “ Slowly she unlaced the front her bodice.

  His eyes widened with lust. “You know I do.” His gaze roamed her body hungrily.

  She slipped her arms from the boned corset then dropped it to the floor.

  Ever so slowly, she untied her skirt.

  Her gaze frozen on him, she let it drop to her feet.

  She watched as he quickly undid his shirt and threw it over the bed.

  Layer upon layer of clothing piled to the floor, shoes, his shirt, her crumbled petticoat, her bustle. Finally, she drew her chemise over her head, let it ever so slowly slip from her fingers, and stood naked before him.

  He squirted to the other side of the bed, allowing her room.

  She straddled him, hugging her knees by his hips.

  His jewels lay cradled against the junction of her thighs.

  “You have something I desire. “ She
dropped her hand to his male root and stroked the length of him with her thumb till he once again grew hard.

  “Oh. You'll get exactly what you deserve.“ He reached out and grabbed her breast with his hand.

  She leaned forward and licked his ear. “I always do. “

  He stroked her back with his fingers.

  Her breasts brushed his chest as she reached across him to the cup of wine on the table.

  She straightened then dipped her breast into the pewter cup. Red wine covered her mound and dripped between her cleavage.

  Tisdale licked his lips.

  She grinned and thrust the hardened nipple into his mouth.

  Hungrily he sucked like a starving dog.

  Yes, she knew just how to get what she wanted from men like him.

  She leaned back, breaking contact and glanced down. “I've been told you are quite good with your sword. “

  Slowly she poured wine over his sex and began to knead and roll him like uncooked dough.

  He groaned with pleasure. “Well, I --”

  “In fact, I understand a certain gentleman has accused you of… let us just say, comprising his daughter.”

  ‘Twas a lie, but then she’d bet there were quite a few tarnished reputations out there, as well as his bastards.

  She felt him grow soft in his hand.

  “I haven’t the notion what you are referring to,” he replied nonchalantly. He closed his eyes, lobbed his head back against the pillow.

  “It seems his daughter was one of your patients and while under that magic spell of yours…”

  She ran her finger over and under his scarlet tip.

  His body jerked up.

  “The chit has accused you of ruining her good name.”

  His eyes shot open.

  Before he could say a word, Katherine continued. “You and I are quite similar. We both know what we want and take it, no matter what the cost.”

  She reached out, ran a finger across his jaw, then seductively dragged her hand away. “In any case, you cannot go back to the village of Hampshire-ever. The man has sworn to kill you.”

  “I am not afraid of some over imaginative father.” He sat up and began to bite her neck. “Beside what proof have you?”

  Damn. Getting him to leave town and take his daughter with him wasn’t going to be as easy as she’d thought.