Lord Melvedere's Ghost (14 page)

She
reluctantly eased back in his arms and glanced up at the smoky
depths of his eyes that were so very close to hers. She knew she
should put some distance between them. The inference of the staff
in the kitchens echoed in her eyes, but she couldn’t break the
mesmerising hold he seemed to have woven around her far too
easily.

In a
silken web of confusion she watched his head slowly descend toward
hers. She should protest. She must. But she didn’t. Instead, she
held her breath and waited for the first silken glide of his lips
against hers.

The
warmth of his breath brushed her lips before the gentlest pressure
teased the pouting curve of her lower lip. One large palm slid into
her hair, holding her head perfectly still while he deepened the
pressure.

Her
breath quivered on a sigh. She could break the hold, but the
sensual curl of enticement that began to swirl around deep inside
was enticing. She was curious to know what it was like, being
properly kissed by a man. She knew where her future lay, and it was
on the opposite end of the spectrum to the man before her. Was she
so wrong to want this one moment to feel normal, before it was all
swept aside for a future that would be even more bleak and barren
than her past?

Her
heart hammered in her throat as his lips settled on her with no
more force, but with a silent and skilful determination that she
couldn’t ignore. Tipping her head back she gave herself over to the
silken onslaught of her first kiss.

Jamie
had to use all of his self control not to deepen the embrace. He
could feel the fine tremors that coursed through her, and knew from
the way she was leaning against him that she wasn’t afraid. He was
delighted, yet unsurprised, to have confirmation that she was
untried and had never even been kissed before. For that he was
entirely grateful, if a little nonplussed. All of his previous
lovers had been used to men, and had no qualms about meeting any of
his demands. He had no idea how to proceed with anyone who was
untried, especially one he wanted as his wife.

Still,
it was not an insurmountable problem. While they didn’t have all
the time in the world, they did have a few precious weeks in which
to grow comfortable around each other before he took matters
further.

He
shifted when her delicate hands touched his arms. At first he
wasn’t sure if she was trying to push him off and began to ease
back from the honeyed warmth of her lips, but when her palms merely
rested in place, he drew her ever closer and deepened the kiss the
way he really wanted to.

Her sigh
was all of the approval he needed and for several long moments they
stood locked in sensual abandon.

A sudden
‘yip’ from the direction of the fireplace was as effective as a
bucket of cold water. Cecily felt her cheeks burn as Jamie lifted
his head and glanced over at Basil, who was sitting before the
fire, frantically licking the end of his tail.

Cecily
stared at Basil, and wasn’t sure whether to be annoyed and
relieved. She could feel Jamie’s eyes studying her face and was
acutely aware that he had yet to release his close hold on her, but
how did she ask him to let her go? Reluctantly she returned her
gaze to his, but could see nothing in the smoky grey depths than a
gentleness that immediately relieved her anxiety. He wasn’t going
to try to kiss her again, but wasn’t going to allow her to back
away and pretend nothing had happened either.

“
I am not going to apologise for it,” Jamie whispered, sensing
her hesitation. “I have wanted to do that from the moment we first
met at the Tissington ball,” he admitted ruefully, feeling her jolt
against him. He regretted saying it as soon as the sudden wariness
entered her eyes, and mentally cursed the numerous
misunderstandings that still lay between them. “There is a lot we
need to discuss, and a lot of questions I need to ask you about
your father and the businessmen in Tissington. But I want you to
consider this, Cecily,” he paused and waited for Cecily to draw her
gaze away from his shirt front and look at him properly.

“
What?” She whispered, her voice trembling. Her heart hammered
at his mention of the first time they had met and the remembered
disappointments of old came flooding back. Despite their overly
familiar stance, there was so much she didn’t know about Jamie. She
wondered if he was trying to take advantage of her because of her
current helpless situation and, if so, if she really minded all
that much.

“
I want you to wait until all of this is over with the Star
Elite and your father, find out about Portia and Archie, and then,
and only then, make your decisions about your future. There is no
rush and if you really don’t wish to remain here, there is the
Dowager’s house at the end of the estate that lies empty. Stay
there for a while, and consider what you want to do.”

“
That is a very kind offer, but -”

Jamie
squeezed her waist and dropped a kiss on her startled lips. “Not
now. Think about it, that’s all I ask.”

Cecily
nodded jerkily, more than a little bemused by his generosity and
kindness. Although a part of her was relieved that he was kind and
almost loving, a small part of her couldn’t ignore his behaviour
back in Tissington, and the alternative reasons for his offer for
her hand. As such, it acted as a stern warning that she shouldn’t
take his actions now too seriously.

Still,
a small voice reasoned,
he hasn’t harmed you, and what damage can a
comforting hug, and a few kisses do anyway?
Cecily sighed.
As long as he didn’t
expect it to proceed to anything else, they were fine.

Still,
his offer gave her a lot to think about. If he was being genuine,
and he did really mean his offer of the Dowager house with no
strings attached because of his friendship with Archie, her future
brother-in-law, then would she be churlish for refusing him for no
other reason than her pride?

“
I have to get back to work, but I do have some more questions
about Tissington. How about we get them out of the way after
dinner?” Jamie asked, reluctantly breaking his hold and stepping
back. It shook him to realise just how much of a wrench it was to
release her, and wished they were close enough to be able to spend
the afternoon together. As it was, he watched her move quietly
toward the door with a slightly singed Basil at her
heels.

“
Yes, that’s fine. After dinner,” Cecily replied, smiling shyly
as she left the room. In the corridor, Basil trotted toward the
kitchens while Cecily moved to the staircase. She needed a few
precious moments to herself and her room was the only haven she
had.

A part
of her was wildly giddy at what had just happened, while another
part of her was just so very confused. She wanted to skip up the
stairs, while inside she as frantically trying to battle the doubts
and shadows that lingered. She didn’t know which way to turn, or
what to think.

Placing
her fingers against her tingling lips, a girlish smile broke out on
her face anyway as she climbed the stairs.

CHAPTER
SEVEN

Breathing heavily, she turned toward the corridor leading to
her room, and froze. Before her lay two corridors, but she couldn’t
remember which one took her to her guest room. Turning around, she
was faced with yet another row of doors, but they all looked so
alike that it was difficult to remember which one she used. The
walls were panelled with the same highly polished oak; the doors
all looked identical with the same highly polished brass
knobs.

Spinning
on her heel she walked down the closest corridor, peering at each
door carefully as she passed. When she had left the room earlier
she had headed toward a door at the end. This corridor had a door
at the end. Heading back out onto the main hallway she went to the
second corridor and groaned when she spotted an identical door at
the end of that long corridor too.

Puffing
out her cheeks, she wondered if she should just go back downstairs
and ask Doreen for help, but then felt embarrassed at having to
call the busy woman away from her duties for something that should
be so ridiculously easy. At this rate, she would still be wandering
the corridors when Doreen brought her dinner tray up. Deciding that
there was only one option for it, she took the first corridor and
began trying each door as she passed.

The
first three wouldn’t open, but the fourth did revealing a room very
similar to hers, except that it was on the wrong side of the house.
Muttering dire imprecations to herself, she tried opening the doors
on the other side of the corridor, wondering how long it would be
before it began to get dark. To her consternation, none of the
rooms were hers. Determined not to be thwarted by her own lack of
navigational skills, she headed back to the second corridor which
was much further on than she had thought it was, and began to
repeat the process.

Frowning
darkly, she reached the end of the corridor and stared down the
long row of doors, a tiny tendril of fear beginning to shiver up
her spine. Was she losing her mind? She had tried each door to each
room. Her room should be about half way down this corridor, she was
certain of it. So why couldn’t she find it?

She
suddenly felt so very tired. Rubbing her hands down her face, she
leaned back against the wall behind her for a moment. There really
was no other way, she was going to have to go down to the kitchens
and get someone to show her to her room. She could only hope that
she didn’t cross paths with Jamie.

Her
scream was swallowed by the darkness as she began to tumble
backwards. Wildly throwing her arms out to stop herself falling,
she hit her forearm hard on the doorjamb as she disappeared into
the gloomy depths behind her. Landing on her bottom with a dull
thud, she watched in horror as the sight of the frustrating
corridor of doors was solidly cut from view and she was encased in
the blackest, most suffocating darkness she had ever experienced in
her entire life.

Where
was she? What had happened?

Fighting
clawing panic, she rose and began to pat the wall before her,
searching for a doorknob, a latch, anything that would get her out
of the darkness. A cool breeze wafted around her ankles. Something
tickled her cheek. Her stomach dipped, and she sucked in a huge
breath only to cough as dust motes attacked her lungs.

“
God in heaven,” she whispered, freezing in place as a strange
noise began to filter through the darkness.

It
sounded like faint whispering, or was that clothing rustling? Were
there rats? She closed her eyes and began to pray. Peering into the
darkness, her fists clenched into hard balls of readiness, she
bravely peered all around her but could see nothing. Turning around
she glanced the other way, putting her hands out before her to try
to find the wall.

Unless
she was mistaken, she was in a secret corridor. A corridor without
lighting that could lead to anywhere. Did Doreen know about it? Did
Jamie? If so, why had nobody warned her?

“
Hello!” She shouted thumping on the wall in front of her. She
patted the panelling over and over, but couldn’t find anything that
might get her back out of her claustrophobic confinement. “Hello!
Can someone get me out, please?”

Silence
was her answer.

She
hammered on the door again with all of her might, but knew that in
reality nobody was nearby to hear her cries. Deciding there was
nothing else for it, she had to find out where the cold air was
coming from. Where there was air there was daylight, and a possible
way out. She began to shuffle sideways, patting the air before her
like a determined sleepwalker.

The
corridor seemed to go on and on. But how could that be? The
servants stairs ran around here somewhere, she had passed it
earlier that morning with Doreen. Glancing down, she knew that she
would feel a lot happier if she was only able to see her feet.
Through the gloom she could see nothing, not even her hand before
her face and that was unnerving. She wasn’t usually afraid of the
dark, but there was something about this space that held an air of
expectancy about it that was forbidding.

“
Get a hold of yourself, Cecily,” she muttered, shuffling
along.

A wild
surge of elation swept through her when a particularly large gust
of cold air swept gently over her. Glancing in the direction it
came from, a scream lodged in her throat as the shadows before her
turned grey and began to shift.

Her eyes
grew wide and she stared into the darkness that had now turned a
lighter grey in colour. Unless she was mistaken, there was someone
in the corridor with her; a man, and he was walking away from her
carrying a candle.

“
Wait!” She cried, stumbling after him. “Please, help me, I am
stuck,” she called, her eyes locked on the back of the moving
shadows. Were her eyes playing tricks on her? Was it her wayward
imagination? She couldn’t be sure. The man was barely visible in
the darkness, but she was certain he was there. Lengthening her
stride, she grew alarmingly aware that when she did manage to close
the distance between her and the moving figure, she grew
considerably colder. Why wasn’t he stopping to talk to
her?