He held a book out to her. The leather was spotted with rain, but the pages were dry as she opened it. Her eyes widened as she saw the writing on the page facing the frontispiece.
To Ellen,
Friendship is a gift beyond any words I can utter, so I pray these simple poems will speak for me.
With affection,
Lorenzo Wolfe, Lord Wulfric
Ellen paged through the book and discovered it was a collection of his poems which he had copied onto the blank pages. “Lorenzo,” she whispered as she closed the book, “I am overwhelmed. I never have had such a wondrous gift.”
“It is not as wondrous as the gift you gave me at the fair.”
“I gave you something?”
He smiled and took her hand between his. “You did not chide me for my silly avocation.”
“Your poetry is not silly.”
“See?” He stroked her fingers gently. “That is what I mean. I can imagine no finer gift to give a man than your faith in what he does.”
Ellen stepped back, trying to make the motion seem spontaneous. She recognized that glow in his eyes. It was a tamer version of how Corey looked at her when he spoke of his yearning to hold her. What a muddle this was! If Lorenzo had more affection for her than was appropriate between friends, the situation was guaranteed to become even more addled.
And she had no idea how to undo all the tangles before each of them suffered from a broken heart.
Ellen knocked on the door to Marian’s private chambers. When a maid opened the door, Ellen walked into the room, which was flounced with pink and white lace on every surface. The heavy scent of Marian’s favorite perfume clogged every breath and rose from the Turkish carpet as Ellen went to where Marian was reclining on a chaise longue. Even Marian’s wrapper was white with pink lace edging the modest neckline.
Marian stood and kissed Ellen on the cheek. “My dear, you look positively glowing this morning.”
“Do I? I do not feel glowing.”
“Can I hope you are in love?”
“Yes.”
Marian’s eyes widened. “Yes? You are in love? Deeply in love? Forever in love? This is more than just calf-love this time?”
“I fear so.”
“With whom? When will the announcement come? Oh, my dear, I must begin planning an assembly to give you a chance to proclaim these wondrous tidings to the shire. I—”
“Marian!”
“—think a light supper will be perfect. The weather has been too warm for more. If—”
“Marian!”
“—we want to do more, we might consider a party with lanterns in the garden. Think of it, Ellen! It would be so lovely if the moon was new and the stars were out. Then—”
“Marian!”
Her exasperation must have reached her friend, for Marian said, “Yes?”
“Please sit, Marian.”
“What is wrong?” She pressed her hand to her chest. “Oh dear, are you saying you are not about to announce your betrothal?”
“Please sit, Marian. Let me have a chance to explain.”
She obeyed.
Ellen took a deep breath, then released it. Delaying would not make this easier. “I want you to listen and to believe that I am not insane.”
“Ellen, what—?”
“Listen please.”
“Very well.” She smiled. “My dear, you know I wish only to see you happy.”
“I know.” Ellen did not add that she doubted if that was still possible. “Marian, I know no other way to tell you this than to be blunt. This house is haunted, and the ghost is Corey Wolfe.”
“Ellen—”
“You said you would listen! Will you?”
Marian scowled, then nodded.
“I know I sound mad, but Corey first appeared to me as a spirit the night he died.”
“And you have seen him since?”
“Often.”
Marian looked over her shoulder. “Is he here now?”
“Do you think I would be talking about this if he were?”
“I have no idea.” She brushed her hair back nervously from her face. “A ghost? This is most unsettling, Ellen. If you had seen Corey as a ghost only after you were injured, such a vision could be blamed on how hard you had banged your head on the earth. But to see him again and again …”
Ellen knelt next to her friend. “Marian, I do not blame you for finding this hard to believe. Even as I speak the words, I wonder how I can give them credence. I know only what I have seen and heard. Corey Wolfe is a ghost within these walls.”
“But he should haunt Wolfe Abbey, not Herrold Hall.”
“Oh, he is there, too.” She sank back onto her heels. “He seems to be about wherever I go.”
“Wherever?”
“Here, at Wolfe Abbey, at the fair.”
“Where here?”
Ellen swallowed roughly. “You shall not like this answer, Marian. Most often, in my chambers upstairs.”
“Oh dear. This is appalling. If it were to be bandied about the shire that you were speaking with a man in your private rooms—”
“A ghost, Marian.”
“A male ghost.”
“Yes.” She could not deny that. Even as a spirit, Corey possessed a raw sensuality that urged her to throw all sense aside and her arms around him. That mischievous twinkle and the smile as he sat next to her while she was nestled among her pillows had suggested what his words had confirmed. If alive, he would have enticed her into discovering something more pleasurable than conversation in her bed.
“Oh, dear.”
“Marian, he is a ghost. Nothing untoward has happened.”
“This is all so confusing. Mayhap you are mistaken in what you have seen.”
“Corey is real.” When Marian frowned, she amended, “As real as a ghost can be.”
Marian smoothed Ellen’s hair back from her face. “My dear Ellen, are you so certain of this? You were distraught in the wake of the accident. Mayhap you have created this fantasy to ease your heart.”
“I am not the only one who has seen him.”
“Who else?”
“Fenton.”
“Fenton?” Marian’s face grew as pale as her wrapper.
“Do you know him? He is the old man in the Abbey stables.”
With a shudder, Marian rose. “I have known him since I was a child. He is insane, always babbling about some disaster or another.”
“He has seen Corey. If you would ask him—”
“I shall not.” Again she shivered. “I have avoided him for many years, and I will not seek him out now.”
“Why not?”
“He …” She shuddered, then said, “Fenton has foretold many disasters at the Abbey. Some have come to pass. Others not. Mayhap others listened better than Corey or I did.”
“You?” Ellen stood.
“Fenton told me to stay away from the cliff’s paths, that I would take a tumble one day.” She touched her left wrist. “And I did. While I waited for my broken arm to heal, I vowed never to speak to that frightening man again.”
“Marian, be sensible. That was nothing more than the warning any adult would give to a spirited child. Surely Lord Wulfric or your parents told you the same thing.”
“But when Fenton says such things, they happen.”
“Marian—”
“And now he has seen this ghost, too.” Wringing her hands, she whispered, “So you saw Corey as a phantom the night of his death?”
“Yes.”
“And often since?”
“Yes.”
“Oh, dear.”
Ellen struggled with her frustration. This was nothing like the Marian she knew. That Marian would never act helpless. “Now you know the truth, but I need your help.”
“What do you need?”
“You believe me?” she asked, startled by Marian’s quick answer.
“Yes.” The word left her lips reluctantly.
“Why?”
> Marian’s smile was strained. “You act as if you wish me to denounce you.”
“I fear I would if our situations were reversed.”
“Not if you knew old Fenton as I do.” She continued to rub her hands together as she crossed the room to pour herself a generous serving of the Madeira waiting on a table by the bow window. “He has been seeing things since before I was born. No matter what anyone says to discredit him, we all know he speaks the truth. Too many things have come about just as he warned.”
“Including the accident with the fireworks.”
Marian drained the glass in one gulp. “Did he speak of that, too?”
“Only moments before the explosion.”
“Oh, dear me. If Corey had listened to him …” She refilled her glass, then sat heavily on the closest chair. “This is all too much. A ghost? I find this so hard to believe.”
“As I did.” Ellen sighed. “I have had time to accustom myself to these peculiar circumstances, but I still find it impossible to accept them.”
“So what advice do you need? I know of no way to deal with a ghost.”
“But you know about love.” She sank to sit on the foot of the chaise.
“Love?” Marian closed her eyes and shook her head. “No, Ellen, tell me it is not so. Tell me you haven’t fallen in love with a ghost.”
Ellen sighed. “You know how many times I have fallen in love.”
“Many.”
“And you know how many times I have fallen out of love.”
“Just as many.”
Leaning forward, she whispered, “But this is different, Marian. I have every reason to fall out of love with Corey, but my heart is filled with longing to be with him all the time, even though I know it is impossible.”
Marian took a sip from her glass and swallowed roughly. She looked about the room, her gaze avoiding Ellen’s. More than once, she started to speak, then closed her mouth.
“Marian?”
“How does he feel about you? You say you love him, but how can he return that affection? He is a ghost! Surely his emotions are as dead as he is.”
Unable to sit still, Ellen set herself on her feet. “I believe he might love me, too, but he made a vow the night of his death which stands between us as much as the fact he is a ghost.”
“A vow?”
“He vowed to stay here as a ghost until I found a man to love and buckled myself to him.”
Marian rose, drained her glass, and crossed the room. “There is but one solution, Ellen. You know it as well as I do.”
“To marry?” She shook her head. “How can I marry when I have given my heart away?”
“Corey cannot claim it.”
“But I love him, Marian.”
“Then give him the rest he deserves.”
Ellen gasped, “You mean marry someone else while I love him?”
“That is the only way he will leave.”
“But I do not want him to leave.” She pressed her fingers to her lips, but the unthinking words already had escaped.
“You do love him deeply, don’t you?” Marian put her arm around Ellen’s shoulders. “My dear, if you do love him, you must release him from his connection with life.”
“By marrying another man?”
“Yes.”
Ellen sank back onto the chair and hid her face in her hands as tears rolled along her cheeks. For so long, she had sought true love. Now she had to push it aside as she settled for something less precious while she lived the rest of her life wishing for what could never have been.
Fourteen
Hearing hoofbeats, Ellen looked up from where she was gathering flowers in the garden of Herrold Hall. Her smile wavered when she recognized the elegantly attired man on the back of the gray.
Kenneth Pratt!
Quickly she ducked her head, hoping the brim of her light blue tulle bonnet would conceal her face. She learned how futile her hopes were when Mr. Pratt drew in his horse and shouted her name.
She stood and draped her basket over her arm. “Good day,” she answered.
He swung down from the horse. His brightly polished boots and stylish coat added to his looks that would draw any lass’s eye. “Are you gathering flowers to wear tonight?”
“Marian wished—”
“For us to lead the first dance, I am sure.” He swaggered toward her and grasped her hand, setting it on his arm. “Fortunately, my plans concur with hers. You and I shall stand up together for that first quadrille. Of course, we shall dance often.”
“I am glad you have my evening planned out for me.”
As before, sarcasm had no effect on him. “You must, of course, allow me to dance with others. As the host, it is meet that I offer my company to as many of the ladies as possible.”
“Of course.”
“I hope you will not speak too warmly of me while I am with others. It would create talk.”
Ellen stared at the ground, so he would not see her smile. The man was an incredible boor who thought the Polite World revolved around him. Even though he demurred, she knew he would be delighted to have everyone talking about him. In fact, she suspected he would do anything to remain as the center of the ton’s attention.
She risked a look around the garden. Where was Corey? She had guessed he would be here by now. It was so unlike him to resist the chance to poke fun at Mr. Pratt. Then, with a shiver, she recalled Corey’s unease at the fair. Here, where the sunshine was so bright, he might grow weaker. She could not let him endanger himself—although she wondered anew what could hurt a ghost—simply because she found Kenneth Pratt’s company so intolerable.
At the fair, she had rid herself of him by plying him with compliments and suggesting he was irresistible to the blond girl who clearly had been overmastered by him. That had worked once. She could only hope it would today as well.
“I promise you,” Ellen said, gazing up at him and fluttering her eyelashes, “I will do nothing to cause talk about you, Mr. Pratt.”
“Kenneth,” he replied magnanimously. “Do not worry yourself about such matters. I shall handle them for us.”
“How kind of you!” She wondered how much air would puff out of this overblown addle cove if a pin pricked him. Enough to float a balloon, she suspected. Slipping her hand out from beneath his, she smiled. “I look forward to this evening. The gathering should be unlike any I have ever attended.”
“I shall be there.”
“That will make it unique.”
“And so very special.” He grabbed her hand and pressed his lips to it. “I bid you adieu.”
“Au revoir,” she answered, wishing she did not have to see him again.
He gave her a baffled look, and she guessed he did not have any idea what she had said. The man was a clod-pate, so much so that she had pity for him.
Leaving him to stare after her, Ellen hurried up the steps and into the Hall. Marian was coming down the stairs as she entered the foyer.
“Oh, flowers!” Marian cried. “What a wondrous idea. We shall select the very best for your hair tonight.” Her eyes twinkled. “Did I see Kenneth riding toward the house?”
“He wished to reassure himself that we were attending the gathering tonight.”
“That you are attending.”
Untying the ribbons beneath her chin, Ellen handed her bonnet to a footman. “Why is he so persistent in paying court on me? I have neither title nor wealth.”
Marian linked her arm through Ellen’s as they climbed the stairs. “My dear, I thought you knew. He needs to be married to obtain the money in the trust his late father arranged for him. The late Mr. Pratt was a frugal man and invested wisely. His son will never be able to spend all that money in a single lifetime.”
“Once he marries, it is turned over to him?”
“Exactly.”
“No wonder he is so anxious for a bride.”
“Yes,” Marian said with a sigh as they continued up the next flight of stairs, “for all the yo
ung, eligible women around here have rejected him.”
“That speaks well for them, although I am baffled why you think I would be interested in him.”
“Ellen!” Marian faced her in the upper corridor. “Don’t you see? This is the exact solution you have been seeking. You can marry Kenneth and get what you wish.”
“What I wish? To be that boor’s wife?” She opened the door to her room. “You are mistaken.”
Marian gently took Ellen’s hands in her own. “My dear, you need to marry if you wish to free Corey from being shackled to this mortal earth. Kenneth is desperate for a wife to get his father’s trust. An arrangement, which includes marriage, could be worked out to the satisfaction of both of you.”
“But being his wife would mean …” She shuddered at the idea of him touching her.
“He surely would wish his own home so that he might live the life he enjoys here.”
Marian’s careful tone told Ellen much. Even though Ellen doubted Kenneth Pratt would ever be faithful to one woman, she had not paused to think of what being married to such a man would be like. Yes, a marriage of convenience could be arranged, and she would never have to do more than allow him to give her a buss on the cheek in public. He could have his prime articles.
And everyone would talk about him all the time.
It would be the perfect understanding for him … but not for her. She did not want to spend the rest of her life yearning for the touch of a man she loved and never knowing it. She knew that loss too intimately now.
“Think on it,” Marian whispered. “I know it is not what you wish, but it would free Corey.”
“Corey …” She drew in a deep breath and nodded. “I will think on it.”
“Good.” Marian stepped back. “You must realize it shall be for the best.”
“Yes, I realize that.”
“Then you will accept Mr. Pratt’s proposal?”
Ellen laughed suddenly. “Marian, he has said nothing of a proposal.”
“He will.” Her voice grew darker. “He will. I promise you that.”
Ellen peeked into the glass and touched the flowers in her upswept hair. White roses were the consummate complement for her gold silk gown. Adjusting the deep neckline that dropped in a vee across her breasts, she looked down at the row of roses sewn to the hem of her gown. Her white kid slippers matched her white stockings and gloves.
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