“Lorenzo is a kind man, and we share a love of poetry,” she said.
“Marriages have succeeded with less in common.” He puffed on his pipe. “I simply wished to be certain you were not looking for a way to heal your heart after the loss of Corey in that horrible accident.”
“Lorenzo and Corey are two very different people.”
“True.” He set himself on his feet. “You seem to have thought this matter through, so I offer you my felicitations. Marian is so pleased you will be remaining here in the shire.” He looked across the field. “Blast! Excuse me, Ellen,” he threw over his shoulder as he ran across the lane and leaped over the wall as if he were half his age.
Ellen rose to see Lord Herrold working with his huntsman to keep the dogs from jumping over another wall to enter a field where sheep were bleating in terror. With a smile, she strolled back to Herrold Hall. This would be her life for the rest of her days. A quiet, country existence where the crises would be small ones as would the times of happiness. If she could not have a life with Corey, it was an acceptable substitution.
That was a lie.
She blinked back tears as she went into the Hall. When had she started being false with herself? Nothing would replace the life she wished she could have with Corey. Everything else would be a colorless dream.
Ellen went up the stairs and opened the door to her room. Lord Herrold’s insight had unsettled her assumptions more than she wanted to own. Everything she had deemed to be true was being undermined.
When a low radiance appeared in the chair by the hearth, she breathed, “Corey! Where have you been?”
He did not rise. “I thought it would be wiser if we were alone when we spoke about your betrothal.”
“Then why didn’t you come to me while I was outside?”
Slowly he stood. “There is a heaviness about me of late, Edie. I cannot wander about as I once did.”
“But you are a ghost! There should be nothing heavy about you.”
“No?” He put his hand to his chest. “The heaviness is here. Do you know its cause?”
“I fear ’tis I.” Her fingers trembled as she fought to keep tears from filling her eyes.
“How could you do anything to harm me? I do own you have looked at me with such fury I knew, had I been alive, you would have wished me dead.” He chuckled, but it was a weak shadow of his usually booming laugh. He grew somber again as he said, “Sit down so we might talk.”
Ellen glanced at the pillows piled at the top of her bed. How she longed to lean back on them while they laughed together as they talked about anything that might come into their heads! That camaraderie was gone, banished at the very moment she told Lorenzo she would be his wife.
She sat on the window bench where he often had appeared. When he lowered himself slowly to the chair she had come to think of as his, she bit her lip to keep in her moan of despair. He moved as slowly and stiffly as an old man. Something was drawing the last bits of life from him so swiftly he was fading before her eyes.
“Corey, I wished to tell you last night,” she whispered.
“About you and my cousin.”
“Yes, but you were not here.”
He smiled sadly. “Edie, do not look like the wandering wife who has been caught cuckholding her husband. You have done nothing wrong by considering Lorenzo’s suit.”
“It is more than considering.”
Pain flashed across his face. “I feared that was so when Marian welcomed all of her cronies for a celebration.” He took a deep breath, then released it. “So you will wed Lorenzo?”
“He cares deeply for me, Corey.”
“And do you love him?”
“I care deeply for him.” She hoped he would forgive her for embellishing the truth. She did care for Lorenzo, but love? No, she could not give Lorenzo her love, for her heart did not have a yearning to belong to him.
“I see.”
She waited for him to say more, to say anything, although she doubted if there was anything he could say.
When he smiled, it was with irony. “Who would have guessed that my attempt to play the matchmaker would end with you becoming Lorenzo’s wife? Mayhap it was, as Fenton would say, your fate to become Lady Wulfric. As Lorenzo presently holds that title, you must be his wife.”
“I thought this was what you wished.”
“Aye, so did I.” He stood. His smile was as forced as the lightness of his voice. “See? I have done as I pledged. I found you a husband, a task that others have despaired of accomplishing. What would Marian say if she ever learned that I have bested her yet again?”
“She was not pleased by the match.”
“No?” He lifted a single brow. “I had not thought Marian and I would ever agree on such a thing. Lorenzo is the wrong man for you, Edie.”
“Who would you have me marry?” She jumped to her feet. “Would you have me marry Mr. Adams or Mr. Pratt?”
“There are others.”
“How many,” she asked, her voice rising, “must I parade myself before like a horse being sold at a fair? Lorenzo is a kind man. He does not want to marry me so he can get his father’s money.”
“Edie—”
“No! You will listen to me for once!”
“Lower your voice. Everyone in Herrold Hall is listening to you at the moment.”
Fury gripped her. How dare he admonish her when he could shout as loudly as he wished and the only one to hear him was her! “Why can’t you understand? I have good reasons to marry him.”
“What reasons?”
“I should not need to tell you such things. Why can’t you understand? Marian understood when I told her I needed to find a husband before you—Oh, no!” Ellen put her hand over her lips.
His brows dropped into a fearsome scowl. “You told her about me? I thought we agreed no one but you and Fenton would know of this.”
“I had to talk to someone I trusted about …”
“About what?” he asked.
She put out her hands, then pulled them back. How could she tell him the truth which would break his heart if he still had one within him? Yes, he had a heart, for on his face, she could see the pain of it rending. “Corey, I needed to speak to a friend. Fenton may see you as readily as he does the other ghosts in Wolfe Abbey, but he would not heed the disquiet within me.”
“At the thought of marrying my cousin?”
“No.”
“Then what unsettles you so much that you needed to reveal the truth?”
“Corey, I …”
The door came open, and Marian bustled about the room. What once had been amusing and frustrating was only painful. Waiting for Corey to make some teasing comment, Ellen wrung her hands in her muslin gown. He said nothing.
“I thought you might be here,” Marian said, “after that barbaric Kenneth Pratt upset you so.”
“What did he do?” asked Corey.
“It was nothing,” Ellen replied to both of them. “He will not be calling here again.”
“And he will not dare to ask Lorenzo to name his friends.” Marian smiled. “His mother will be much distressed when she hears of her darling son risking himself so needlessly.”
“A duel?” Corey shook his head. “I should have stayed and seen the entertainment, Edie.”
Marian gave Ellen a kiss on the cheek. “What a lovely bride you shall be! Think of all the excitement ahead of us. When shall you wed?”
“As soon as the banns can be read.”
“So soon?” asked Marian and Corey at the same time.
He strode toward Ellen. She wanted to back away, but then she would have to explain to Marian that Corey was in the room.
“We thought it best,” Ellen answered. “A quiet wedding in the chapel at Wolfe Abbey with the least fuss.”
“Best to air it out first,” Corey said. “The incense from the funeral—from my funeral—may still be lingering.”
She looked at him with pleading. This was not how it should b
e. She had thought he would be pleased that she had helped him accomplish his vow. When his frown etched lines in his brow, she longed to smooth them away.
Marian’s voice yanked her back to that conversation. “I think that is an excellent idea, even though I must own I had hoped for something grander for you.”
“It is what I want.”
“Do you?” Corey’s question lashed her.
“Yes,” Ellen repeated, “it is what I want.”
Marian’s smile wavered. “I believe you, my dear. Why are you acting so uneasy?”
“It is a new life I am facing,” she said tritely. “I am overmastered by what lies before me.”
“You have done the best you could under the circumstances.” Marian hugged her. “Think of it! We shall be neighbors and will be able to exchange visits for years to come.”
“Just what you deserve, Edie,” Corey said grimly. “If you wish to marry my boring cousin and live a boring life here with calls on Marian being the grandest excitement of your day, then I wish you all the best.”
Ellen shook her head. Why couldn’t he comprehend the truth which she must not speak? She had made this decision for him.
“Ellen?”
She paid no attention to Marian as she walked to where Corey was standing by the bed. Looking up at him, she whispered, “Please be happy for me.”
“Happy for you?” he asked over Marian’s gasp. Going to the chair by the hearth, he sat and glowered at her. “How can I be happy for you when I know you shall be miserable?”
“Ellen?” Marian’s voice trembled.
“You may think,” Corey continued, “that Lorenzo can touch your heart with his silly poetry, but he is much like Reggie Herrold. He thinks only of what brings him pleasure. What of your pleasures, Edie? Will his touch fire your soul and awaken the promise of passion I see in your eyes?”
“Ellen?”
She ignored the panic in Marian’s whisper. “Would you have me choose another?”
Marian seized Ellen’s arm and cried, “Who are you talking to?” All color fled from her face. “Corey! Are you speaking with Corey? Is he here? Now?” She spun about as if she expected to see him materialize at any moment.
Ellen nodded, not trusting her voice.
“Where?”
She pointed toward the chair where Corey was scowling at her. “Right there.”
“I see nothing.” Marian brought her quizzing glass to her eye and squinted through it. “Nothing at all.” Raising her voice, she called, “Corey Wolfe, you were the most stubborn man I ever knew. Are you going to continue to be so stubborn all through eternity and berate Ellen when she is doing only as you wished?”
Ellen clasped her hands over her ears. “Marian, there is no need to shout. He can hear you.”
“Is he talking to me?” Again she peered through the glass. “Is he still there?”
Corey slowly set himself on his feet. “Edie, a bit of honesty is sometimes a fearsome thing, especially when you are speaking to someone who has no more imagination than Marian Herrold. However, I would appreciate you being honest with me.”
Again Ellen nodded. To Marian, she said, “If you will excuse us, we need to talk.”
“Us?” She shivered. “Are you certain you wish to be alone?”
“I am not alone.”
“I mean with …”
Corey chuckled tersely. “Has she forgotten my name so soon?”
Ellen reassured Marian, but said nothing until her friend had left, looking back on every step. She half-expected the door to reopen. When it remained closed, she looked at Corey. “Say what you wish.”
“I wish you to be honest. You do not love Lorenzo, do you?”
“I have already told you I care deeply for him.”
He stared at her as if he expected her to continue. When she did not, he sighed. “Then I guess there is nothing else to say, is there?”
“One thing.” Taking a deep breath, she whispered, “I love you.”
Instead of answering, he walked toward the window.
“Corey …”
He turned, and she saw her pain mirrored in his eyes. Rushing to him, she flung her arms around … nothing. A sob burst from her as she saw he had stepped aside.
“Do not be jobbernowl,” he warned in a whisper. “To touch me will injure you.”
“Corey, there must be some way—”
“There is no way!” His voice grew as cold as his touch. “Do not torment both of us with what can never be, Edie!”
“How can you know that? You should not be, but here you are before my eyes.”
A cool breath brushed her, and she lifted her eyes to his. How she longed to feel his fingertip beneath her chin as he tilted her mouth to his!
Slowly she raised her hands to the luminescence enveloping him. Her fingers curved along his face, although she might as well have been cupping a shadow.
“Kiss me good-bye,” she whispered.
“You know I cannot.”
“Please.”
“I would do anything to please you, but this I cannot do.” His hand moved over her shoulder. When she shivered at the cold, he murmured, “My dearest Edie, I cannot.”
Corey stepped away from her and the sorrow sending tears along her cheeks. He clenched his teeth as he fought the fury building within him. This was not the way it should have been. For so long, he had been seeking adventure, fighting his battles, winning each one—even when it appeared he had lost. This battle, this most important battle, he could not win.
“Forgive me, Edie,” he said as he turned away. “I never should have embarked on this silly attempt to find you a husband.”
“But you did, and you succeeded.”
He smiled. Even now, she thought foremost of bolstering him. Looking over his shoulder, he wondered if anyone had ever been so precious to him. Her lips parted with a sweet invitation to taste them. Damn! He wanted her more than he had ever wanted anything. More than he had longed for glory in the war, more than he had wished to be rid of the burdens of overseeing Wolfe Abbey.
“Marry Lorenzo,” he whispered, “and be happy, my love.”
Her breath caught on a sob, and he was sure someone was twisting a knife in his gut.
“Corey …” She wiped tears from her cheeks. “Thank you.”
“For helping persuade you to leg-shackle yourself to my cousin? You owe me no thanks. As lief you should curse me.”
“Thank you for letting me fall in love.”
“With Lorenzo?”
“With you.” Taking a step toward him, she raised her hand as if to run it against his cheek. She did not touch the icy fire surrounding him. She did not need to, for through it, she could sense his longing which matched her own. “You have given me a most precious gift. The chance to discover that I could truly fall in love … forever.”
“As I will love you forever, my love.” He took a step toward the hearth, then paused. “You will be happy with him, won’t you?”
“Lorenzo is a fine man. He will be a good husband.”
“If you ever need anything, call for me. Mayhap I can return.”
“Mayhap?” She clenched her hands by her side.
“I said I would stay until you found a husband. You have. Now …” He did not finish as his form thinned until she could see the curtains behind him.
“Corey!”
He did not answer, and she did not move as his light faded into nothingness.
Sixteen
All the wedding preparations came together more quickly than Ellen had expected. Nothing elaborate was planned, for the Abbey remained in mourning. In the three weeks while the banns were read, Ellen sent an invitation to her parents to join her. Their eager reply arrived two days before they did on the eve of the ceremony.
After a convivial meal in the grand dining room of Herrold Hall, Ellen walked with Lorenzo out onto the balcony overlooking the rose garden. That they were alone was due mostly to her mother’s determination
that Marian would not intrude on every aspect of the brief courtship.
Stars pocked the night sky. Among the trees, night birds cavorted. The enthusiastic croaking of frogs broke the silence.
Ellen leaned on the balcony and stared up at the sky. Just a short time ago—although the past three weeks had seemed a lifetime—she had stood on another balcony and freed her heart to go with a man who could not claim it. Never would she forget that dance or the heat in Corey’s gaze as she had swayed so close to him.
Fingers brushed her shoulders, and she flinched. When Lorenzo apologized for startling her, she touched the shawl he had draped over her bare shoulders.
“Thank you,” she said as he came to stand beside her.
“Your mother does not wish you to take a chill in this autumn air. She fears you will sicken before our wedding on the morrow.”
“My mother or Marian?”
He smiled. “I have never seen Marian so happy. Not even when she wed Reggie.”
“Marian derives so much delight from helping others.”
“That is one way of putting it. I would, as lief, say she enjoys poking her nose into others’ lives.”
Ellen laughed genuinely, for what she suspected was the first time in three weeks. “True.”
“And are you happy, Ellen?”
Her smile faded as she turned to look at him. “That is an odd question tonight.”
“I feared you might be having second thoughts.” He cleared his throat and tugged at his waistcoat. “I know you were much taken with Corey, and I am not the man he was. He was a brave hero who saved many lives.”
“Including mine.”
“Yes, and I know how it hurt you when he died.” He gazed up at the stars. “I am just a pale shadow of him.”
“You are not his shadow. You are simply not like him.”
“That also is true.”
She put her hand on his arm. “Lorenzo, he did not have your gift for creating poetry.”
“But he did create a glow in your eyes, Ellen, which remains even now as you speak of him.”
In amazement, she stared at him. She could not deny what he was saying, for she suspected it was the truth. Part of her listened constantly, even in the depths of sleep, for Corey’s voice. Each splash of sunlight on the rug caught her eyes, for she hoped Corey was about to reappear.
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