Since telling Nathan that Nick knows about us and is resigned if not one hundred percent okay with the situation, Nathan has become a regular visitor while Nick is away during the week, working in London. We make love and then we talk. He tells me about his childhood and all the fun and confusion he and Nick caused by being identical twins. And I tell him about growing up in southern California, the child of a single, often absent on business father who did his best to care for me after my mom died when I was twelve, and died himself shortly before I married George. But for all our talking, Nathan doesn't know any more than I do what will happen once Nick takes possession of the hall and establishes himself as lord of the manor.
I'm afraid he'll disappear. Nathan doesn't agree and keeps quoting his two halves of a whole theory. He believes he and Nick have an unbreakable bond that transcends time, space, power cuts, public service strikes, and anything and everything, including death. I'm hoping he's right, but for now, we have to wait and see.
What I have discovered is Nathan never shows up anywhere in the house except in the corner room where he died. He appears to leave by the door, but that doesn't actually happen--I know because I tried to follow him one time. When he reaches the door, he fades away. When we first met, he said he lived mostly on what he calls the second, and I call the third floor. And maybe that's where he goes. But I've never found anything up there to indicate his presence.
I also know that while I can see Nathan, Nick can only feel his presence.
Which is a good thing because I always worried about Nathan showing up at inconvenient moments. Nathan says he wouldn't play such a mean trick, that he respects his brother's privacy, but I suspect Nathan has a wicked sense of humor, and I'm not about to take any chances. So, when Nick's in London, I stay in my old room. When he's here, we use the master suite.
But now, crunch time is fast approaching. This is the day Nick officially gets possession of Foxton Hall, and Nathan and I get to find out which of us is right.
Nick is taking me out to a fancy hotel for dinner to celebrate. We're both hoping Nathan will still be here when we get back, but...
* * * *
The hotel where Nick takes me is located several miles away on the river, and is the kind of four-star, dressy establishment I haven't been to in a very long time. The moment I step inside the elegant glass entrance door, I'm so glad Nick talked me into buying the slinky black chiffon velvet dress and jacket that I'm wearing. And, thanks to Sam McIven's generous check, I also have a brand new, dark forest green wool, winter coat. I feel as glamorous and dressed up as all the other women present. And, as escorts go, with his dark hair and immaculate white shirt and dinner jacket, Nick has every other man in the place beat, hands down.
Despite the relaxing atmosphere, attentive service, the vintage wines, and delicious food, I know we're both itching to get back to find out if Nathan is still there or not. In a little over a week it will be Christmas, and we'd both love him to be with us for the festivities. Somehow though, we manage to get through the lobster bisque, le caneton à l'orange, and a marvelous concoction of raspberries, chocolate and whipped cream, and even stay long enough for coffee and a couple of slow dances on the postage stamp-sized dance floor.
But then Nick reaches for my hand. "Ready to go?"
"Whenever you are."
The moment we get back, I leave Nick to park the car, while I rush upstairs to my old room.
"Nathan? Are you here?"
I wait for a while and try again. Nathan's never appeared on demand before, and he doesn't now. I'm disappointed, but I don't give up. On Monday, Nick goes back to work in London, and I start sleeping in my old room again.
But my sleep is deep, dreamless and uninterrupted.
Nathan's appearances have always been irregular. Sometimes, I'd see him several days in a row, then I wouldn't see him again for maybe a week. Now, it's more than a week since he was last here, and as each succeeding day passes, I try very hard to convince myself that he's gone--and this time he won't be coming back.
But on Christmas Eve afternoon, Nick pauses in the act of hanging a new ornament on the tree. "I know you believe Nathan's gone, but I'm pretty sure he's still here. I can feel him."
"You can?"
"Why don't you go upstairs and see if he's there?"
"You coming with me?"
He shakes his head, looking a little sad. "What's the point? I can only feel him. You're the one who sees him."
"You don't mind?"
"Why would I? Nathan and I have always shared everything. Now it seems we're sharing you, too."
"I'm not going up there without you."
"Why not?"
"Because you're brothers, and because you love one another. And even if you can't see him... Oh, what's the use of talking. Come on!"
Grabbing Nick's hand, I urge him up the stairs and to the end of the hallway where I open the door to the corner room. It's late afternoon and with daylight fading, the room is in semi-darkness. I sense what I can only describe as electricity in the air. A strange, breathless feeling. Maybe it's just me, winding myself up and hoping for something that's not going to happen.
But then I see Nathan in his usual place, standing over by the window.
Nick stops just inside the door, but I sit down on the edge of the bed. "I see you're still here. I'm so glad."
"And I see you've brought my brother. Does this mean you've told him?"
"Yes. I don't think he's what you'd call thrilled, but he understands."
He smiles. "No matter what trouble I got myself into, he always did."
Leaving the window, he crosses the room to stand in front of his brother, the two of them looking so much alike it makes my heart hurt.
He lifts a hand and runs it down Nick's arm, and I see a look of wonder pass over Nick's face. "It's as I told you, Ali. I can't leave. Nick and I are two halves of the same whole. We're inseparable."
When we go back downstairs, Nicks seems unusually quiet. I wait until he returns to his tree-trimming, then I say, "You may not be able to see Nathan and talk to him the way I can, but I think you felt him touch you. Am I right?"
He puts down the glass ball he's holding, and as he wraps his arms around me, I see a glint of moisture in his dark brown eyes. "Yes, I did. And I have you to thank for it. If you hadn't insisted on dragging me up there..." He tightens his hold and snuggles me closer. "Thanks, love. Best Christmas present anyone has ever given me."
Christiane France
Christiane truly believes that love makes the world go round, so she likes stories with both happy and bittersweet endings. Christiane has been writing romance for the past twenty years and lives near Niagara Falls with her husband and The Boys--two black and white Persian cats.
* * * *
Don't miss Just One Look, by Christiane France,
available at AmberHeat.com!
Toni Peters rarely takes chances or tries new things, always sticking close to home and going along with the tried and the true--until her old schoolfriend, Jane Doyle, working at a hotel in Paris, France, calls and suggests they take a month-long tour of Europe, the vacation of shopping, sightseeing, and sunbathing they've always talked about but never got around to taking.
When Toni arrives in Paris, however, she discovers Jane has quit her job and moved south to another hotel in Marseille. Toni goes to Marseille and checks all the hotels, but to no avail. Jane seems to have mysteriously disappeared off the planet--that is, until Toni receives an unsigned note telling her to be at Les Arbres in Cassis at noon the next day.
Figuring the note is from Jane, Toni hops the bus to Cassis, but instead of finding her friend at Les Arbres, she finds ultra-sexy British cop Neil Trenton...and ends up getting kidnapped...
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