The Jaguar's Romance

by Emilia Hartley

  “You found it.” Shocked, he stared at her. “I’m taking you to meet my sister tomorrow.”

  CHAPTER 11

  Confused, Ellie frowned. “Your sister? But why?”

  To her surprise, Matt looked slightly uncomfortable. “Well, my sister, she’s…well, she’s a little odd, to say the least. She’s, er, well, she’s a bit of a psychic, really. She reads tarot and all that. And what with everything that’s been going on with you, I think we could really use an expert, don’t you think?”

  “Oh.” Disconcerted, Ellie stared down at the letters in her hands. The same letters she’d seen in her dreams. Had Elizabeth’s ghost led her to them? Or had it really been her past life? Maybe Matt was right. Maybe they really did need an expert to figure out what was going on with her.

  Matt glanced down at his watch. “Damn. It’s getting late.” Leaning in, he kissed her forehead before climbing to his feet, hauling her up with him. “I’ve got to get into to town and open the museum.”

  “Oh.” She couldn’t hide her disappointment. She could hear it in her voice and felt slightly ashamed. Of course, he had to go to work. He still had a life to live, didn’t he? It wasn’t his entire world that had been turned upside down; it was hers. “Of course.”

  “Will you be alright by yourself?” The concern in his voice was palpable.

  Ellie felt her disappointment warm to a fond embarrassment. “Don’t be silly. I’ll be fine.” She held up the letters. “I’ve got plenty to keep me occupied, don’t I?”

  Chuckling, he took her hand and began to lead her out of the attic. “I suppose you do. Come by the museum around three this afternoon?” he asked, as they entered her bedroom once more. He hastily began to dress.

  “Sure.”

  “Great.” Flashing her a handsome smile and kissing her again, Matt dashed from the room.

  Ellie stood staring out the window until Matt’s car disappeared down the long drive. Then she glanced down at the pile of letters in her hand. What could they possibly say? Finally, curiosity won out and Ellie plucked one of them from the stack. As carefully as she could, she pried it open and began to read.

  They were love letters. From the dates at the top, it looked as though they spanned the length of a year, detailing the love affair of Elizabeth and Matthew in their own words. Tears spilled down Ellie’s cheeks as she read the tender words, as she became absorbed in the bond the two of them shared. So much love. So much pain. And it was made even worse by the fact that there were times when Elizabeth seemed so in love with Lord Dabney and didn’t appear to care about Matthew at all.

  They knew Dabney had been controlling her somehow. Matthew thought it must be from the wine, because any time he had seen her take the drink Dabney offered, her entire demeanor would change. Matthew was furious with Dabney’s manipulation, but Elizabeth was too scared to be angry. She felt as if she were lost in a prison, stuck in a life that was no longer her own.

  Even throughout her pregnancy, her husband encouraged her to continue drinking whatever potion he had concocted, to the point where Elizabeth was terrified it was affecting the baby. According to her letters, she had even confronted Dabney once. It hadn’t ended well. While it was never considered proper to physically punish one’s wife, during the Regency Era, it definitely wasn’t unheard of. Lord James Dabney had a nasty temper, and before long, Elizabeth was nearly afraid of her own shadow.

  It was only when she would wake from a dream thinking of Matthew or when she would suddenly find herself alone with him at a social event that the spell would be broken. She said it was like coming alive again; like finally breaking the surface of the water and being able to breathe. She was living her days in a fog, and when she could feel like herself again, she was so terrified and depressed that she no longer had much life in her, regardless of how hard Matthew tried to make her happy.

  Ellie sat back and stared at the paper in her hands. It was all so sad. “That poor woman,” she whispered into the silence. “To have everything taken from her that way…to have her love and her life stolen by some selfish man. It isn’t right.” Then, with an appalling thought, Ellie’s eyes widened in fear. What if Matthew’s theory was right? What if that woman was actually her?

  Despite herself, Ellie’s hands began to shake, the stack of letters falling to the floor. Numb, she tried to gather them together, picking on up at random. Yet, the handwriting on this one wasn’t familiar. It wasn’t Matthew’s or Elizabeth’s; it wasn’t even her grandmother Victoria’s. Intrigued, she scanned the page again, and gasped when she caught the name at the bottom of the stationary: Anne Hargrove.

  It was her mother’s.

  All her words were true, Anne wrote. Ellie pressed a hand to her heart. He has come calling after me, just as she said he would. I didn’t even know it was him at first. I just thought he was another tourist or maybe a relative that had moved to the area while I was away at University. But I was wrong.

  There is a darkness about him that I cannot explain. He scares me. And there are times, I don’t know how he does it, but there are times when I feel as if I am drawn to him, as if I belong to him. Times when my body feels as if it wants to be near him, to be wrapped within his arms, even when my mind is screaming that it’s wrong.

  I know I’m not Elizabeth. I know we do not share the same soul. But Mother says it is not necessarily her soul that he is after. She says he does not understand the difference between obsession and love. He blames our family for his ruin two hundred years ago, and will not stop until he has reclaimed both the Hargrove fortune and a Hargrove heart.

  Mother says that we are cursed. That James Dabney—the same James Dabney that drove Elizabeth Hargrove to her death—cursed our line when he forced her to love him. That his obsession with her and with dark magic culminated in both of their souls being trapped in an endless loop, that won’t be destroyed until the cycle is broken.

  He can’t have me. He won’t. And any child I have will never be anywhere near him. Mother cried when I told her, but I have to leave. His influence on me is too much, and I can’t risk giving him what he wants.

  My only hope is that my leaving will break the curse on our family, and any daughter I may have will never have to fear the obsession of the timeless Lord James Dabney.

  Timeless. Ellie let the world roll across her mind. James was immortal. It wasn’t possible. None of it was. And yet…could it be true? Could he really be the same man who had hurt her family for hundreds of years?

  Thunder clapped outside the window, making her jump. It was starting to pour. She hadn’t even noticed the sky getting dark. How long had she been at it? Her eyes searched for the clock on the nightstand and she gasped at the time. If she was going to meet Matt, she needed to get moving.

  CHAPTER 12

  Two hours later, Ellie sat next to Matt in the back seat of her family’s town car, staring out the window at a quaint little cottage at the base of the cliffs. Flowers grew up a trellis near the door and a pentagram was woven into the rocks in the garden. Charms, crystals, and wind chimes hung from the eaves. A sign reading “Phoebe’s House of Fortune” swung perilously in the wind.

  “You’re sure your sister can help?” Ellie asked, rubbing her hands over her arms. The door opened and she stepped from the car, thanking the driver with a kind smile. Matt followed.

  “No,” he admitted, wrapping an arm around her shoulder, “I’m not. But it couldn’t hurt.” Glancing down at her, concern lit his eyes. “Are you nervous?”

  “No,” she answered automatically, wincing at the bite in her own voice. “Yes. I don’t know.” Exasperated, she turned to face him. “A psychic? You’re really taking me to see a psychic?”

  Matt chuckled into the wind and pressed his lips to her hair. “She’s my sister. And she’s not as crazy as she sounds. Most of the time.” Still laughing, he led her up the cobblestone walkway and knocked on the front door.

  Ellie tried to push down
her anxiety as they waited. She hadn’t been able to breathe properly since she had read her mother’s words about the family curse. How she had never wanted Ellie anywhere near James. And yet, here she was anyway. And she was absolutely terrified.

  The door opened, and a small woman stood within the frame, a warm smile on her pretty face. Soft brown hair flowed over a cream-colored sweater, which she paired with black yoga pants ending in bare feet. Shiny silver rings adorned both fingers and toes, and there were charms around her neck and bangles at her wrists. Ellie couldn’t help but feel a little envious. She had always wished she’d been brave enough to wear jewelry like that.

  “Hey, Phoebe,” Matt said, leaning in to give his sister a hug. She patted him on the shoulder, but her eyes were on Ellie.

  “Hi!” Phoebe said with a sunny smile, stepping aside and ushering them in. “You must be Ellie. My brother’s told me a lot about you. Except for the fact that he’s absolutely crazy about you.”

  Heat flushed Ellie’s face, but it was Matt who exclaimed out loud. Phoebe chuckled. “Auras, little bro. It’s obvious.” She patted a hand against his cheek. “But don’t worry. She feels the same way.” She laughed again as Ellie’s blush deepened.

  “This should be interesting,” she whispered, inwardly feeling better when Matt closed his eyes as if praying for patience.

  “Come on,” he said, his hand at the small of her back guiding the way. “Her studio is this way.”

  The studio, as it turned out, was really the den of the cottage, though the walls had been covered in sheer, brightly colored fabric and the lighting was candles and oil lamps. A small table cloaked in a rich magenta cloth, sat in the middle of the room, surrounded by four chairs. Against the far wall was a bookcase containing books on every New Age subject Ellie could think of, and then some. Items such as a large crystal ball, a stack of what looked like Tarot cards, and a silver chalice were placed here and there among the books.

  “Welcome,” Phoebe said with an ethereal voice that sent chills down Ellie’s spine, “to the Spirit World.” Then she laughed and waved a hand at them. “I’m just kidding. I only do that when I want to mess with tourists. Take a seat, take a seat. So,” she said when they were settled at the table across from her, “my brother said you’ve been having some strange things going on since you got to town?”

  Nodding, Matt and Ellie filled her in, ending with the letters Ellie found that morning. The entire time, Phoebe watched with a hand at her chin, her brown eyes watching them earnestly.

  “Can I see your hand?” Phoebe asked so abruptly that Ellie jumped. Beside her, Matt nodded his encouragement.

  “Uh, yeah. Sure.” Obliging, she held out her hand.

  Phoebe took it between her own and flipped it over to expose Ellie’s palm. Phoebe traced a finger lightly over the lines on Ellie’s skin. “Well that’s interesting,” she murmured, tapping her chin with her other hand.

  “What is?” asked Matt.

  “Your Life Line, see?” she said, and Ellie leaned across the table for a better look. Phoebe traced the arched line that spanned from just above her thumb, down to the bottom of her palm. “Do you see how this indent is fractured? Each tiny line goes off on its own. They’re all part of the same line, but they don’t actually seem to be connected. And all of them were short. Looks like you may have been onto something with your past lives theory, Mattie. And here…this is interesting.” Frowning, she bent closer to get a better look. “At the end here, your Life Line is split. Do you see how they veer off like that in both directions? The lines are fainter here, almost as if your path isn’t clear.” Taking a deep breath, Phoebe released her hand and sat back, her eyes troubled. “I’ve never seen it do that before.”

  “What does it mean?” Ellie wondered softly.

  Phoebe pursed her lips. “I’m not entirely certain, but I would venture to guess that it means you have two possible outcomes. One of them shows you having a long, happy life, but the other speaks of certain doom.” Catching the looks on both of their faces, Phoebe hastily brushed the idea aside. “Let me do a reading for you.” Standing, she retrieved her tarot deck.

  Ellie eyed them warily. “I don’t know.” She glanced down at her palm as if it were going to suddenly strike out and hurt her. “I’m not sure I really want to know what they’re going to say.” Matt’s hand squeezed her leg encouragingly, and Ellie felt her courage bolster. “Okay.”

  “Great. Now, I want you to shuffle the deck while thinking of your question.” Phoebe set the cards in front of Ellie and gestured for her to start.

  Ellie timidly picked up the ornately illustrated cards and shuffled obediently. Will I break this curse? she wondered. Will James kill me or claim my family fortune? How will this end?

  “Perfect,” Phoebe told her. “Now cut the cards into three stacks. Just like that. Great.” Reaching across the table, Phoebe flipped over the first card and frowned. “The Tower. Okay, so this isn’t such a great card. It means war. Chaos. There is a great upheaval in your life, a darkness that is causing change.”

  Outside the window, thunder filled the air, the sound shaking the glass. Phoebe turned over the second card and laid it on the table. A flash of lightning illuminated the concern on her face.

  “The Ten of Swords,” Matt read, looking up at his sister. “What does that one mean?”

  The line between her brows deepened. Phoebe gently touched the card. “It isn’t pretty,” she admitted honestly. “It means dark times. Danger. There’s someone who means you harm and he’s closing in.” Another clap of thunder masked the small cry that Ellie uttered. “But it also means that there is nowhere to go but up. Besides,” she said, offering a shaky smile, “it’s just a card. Let’s see what the last one says.” She flipped it over.

  “Death,” Ellie gasped, staring at the cloaked figure atop his white horse. With a quaking hand, she reached out to touch the card.

  “Death isn’t always what it seems,” Phoebe assured them, though her face was pale. “It isn’t always a physical omen. Sometimes the Death card means a great change is coming. The end of something that once was, and the beginning of something new.

  “However, with the other two cards, I would say that whatever darkness is coming for you shouldn’t be taken lightly. If this Dabney character is as dangerous as you say, you need to be careful. He could be the end of you.” Phoebe looked seriously from Ellie to her brother. “He could be the end of both of you.” Another flash of lightning and a boom of thunder. Fear filled her eyes as she gathered the cards. “And whatever you do, you need to do it fast. You’re running out of time.”

  CHAPTER 13

  “We’re doomed,” Ellie exclaimed, bursting into her bedroom, Matt right behind her. Her fiery red hair was sopping wet from the storm that still raged outside and she was soaked to the bone. She wasn’t sure if it was from the cold or from fear, but she started to shiver. She had to get out of these wet clothes.

  “We aren’t doomed,” Matt assured her, hanging his drenched coat on the chair near the fireplace. “Remember what your mom’s letter said? We have to break the cycle.”

  Ellie snorted. “What does that even mean? ‘Break the cycle.’ What cycle? The cycle is that James comes along and tries to seduce the women of my family. Well, not just the women, I guess. Mostly, just my reincarnated soul. And from that timeline you showed me, it looks like most of the time he succeeds. And yet, he’s still here, because each and every time it’s not just me that dies young and tragic.” Tears filled Ellie’s eyes as she looked at Matt, willing him to understand. “Don’t you see? It’s not just me he destroys, Matt. You die too.”

  “Sshh,” Matt whispered soothingly, pulling her into his embrace. He brushed a hand over her hair as she began to sob. “It’s all going to be okay.”

  “How?” she asked against his chest. “How is it going to be okay?”

  Matt shook his head. “I don’t know. But we’re not going to let him
win. Maybe that’s how we break the cycle. Maybe we somehow stay alive, don’t give him what he wants.”

  “Matt, what he wants is me.”

  “Exactly.”

  Shaking her head, she brushed the tears from his cheeks. “You don’t understand the power he has over me. When he brought me those roses? It was like my mind somehow rationalized choosing him over you until I no longer cared who you were.”

  “Yes, that could be a problem,” he conceded, tipping her face up to look at him. “But it wasn’t really you that forgot about me, was it?”

  “No.”

  “And it was remembering me that broke the spell, right?”

  A small sliver of hope shown through the darkness. “I suppose so.”

  Matt grinned and she felt a warm glow deep within her heart. She loved that grin of his. “So, then all you have to do is think of me all the time and we win.”

  Laughing, Ellie playfully smacked his arm. “You would like that, wouldn’t you?”

  “Absolutely.” Leaning forward, he kissed her, slow and deep, gathering her up in his arms. Ellie let herself be absorbed in his touch, in the feel of his soft lips on hers, of his tongue in playing in her mouth. She loved the way the way they seemed to melt into one another, as if nothing else in the world mattered in that moment but the two of them.

  “I’m not going to let anything happen to you,” he promised her, his hands pushing her shirt up over her chest and slipping it off her arms. “I’m going to keep you safe.” He lightly brushed his lips over the swell of her breasts, his fingers playing over her nipples beneath the light fabric of her bra. With expert hands, he reached behind her back and unhooked the clasp, letting her spill free in his hands. She gasped when he took her breast into his mouth and lightly grazed her nipple. “I need you to trust me.”

  Unable to do anything else, she let him lead her to the bed where he eased her down, undressed them both, and stretched out beside her. His long, muscled body covered hers and she sighed against him when he slipped into the hot wetness of her. She clung to him, her legs wrapped around his waist as he softly moved in and out. “Trust me,” he whispered against her neck, kissing his way down to her collar bone.