Lord Melvedere's Ghost (29 page)

If this
was what married life was going to be like, then he could fully
understand Hugo and Simon’s determination to wed their wives and
set up home as fast as possible. He considered the gentle mound of
Cecily’s stomach in consideration for several moments and felt a
little bit prouder.

“
What do you keep smiling at?” Cecily asked with a frown. She
knew she must look a fright. Her hair hadn’t met a brush for at
least two days now, but surely she didn’t look that
humorous.

“
I’m just happy, that’s all,” Jamie sighed, dropping down onto
the bed beside her. He frowned when Cecily tried to leave the
bed.

“
Where are you going?”

“
To my room,” Cecily replied firmly. “I can hardly be lying
here when Warren arrives with the trays, now can I?”

Jamie
personally didn’t care what Warren, or any of his staff thought. He
paid them, not the other way around. If they wanted to keep their
jobs they kept business within the house private.

He
caught her around the waist as she passed his side of the
bed.

“
Put me down,” she squeaked when Jamie swung her off her feet
and dropped her back onto the bed.

“
Make me,” he whispered playfully, dropping random kisses along
her jaw.

He could
sense her hesitation and glanced up at her ruefully. “I know and
understand, my darling. I was greedy last night but it was your own
fault.”

“
My fault? How do you figure that one out?” Cecily gasped,
shivering at the sensation of his warm palm sliding along the cool
skin of her side.

“
You started it. If you hadn’t made me kick the door down, you
would still have had your bedroom. As it is, now that the door is
ruined, the bedroom can no longer be used, you understand? So I am
afraid you are going to have to remain in here,” Jamie reasoned,
his voice low and husky. “With me,” he added for good measure. “All
night long, every night, from now onwards.”

Cecily
sighed and stared up at the canopy for several long moments. “I
can’t sleep in here Jamie. I won’t be your mistress.”

“
I don’t want you as my mistress,” Jamie argued, ignoring her
disparaging snort as he rolled off the bed to answer the discrete
knock at the door. “You are
going
to be my wife.”

“
That’s what you think,” Cecily muttered, pushing off the side
of the bed and trying to find somewhere to hide. Dragging the sheet
around her, she stood with her back to the wall, not daring to peek
in case her eyes met those of the curious butler.

“
Ahem.” Jamie shook his head and placed the tray carefully on
the bottom of the bed. “It is no use hiding you know. Warren has
considered us lovers since the very first night that we made your
bed up in the room next door.” He had heard her reply to his
suggestion of their getting married and it irked him a little.
Still, he had made considerable progress last night and, as a
battle hardened warrior of the Star Elite, he knew when to retreat
and regroup. For now, at least, he was prepared to let the matter
drop.

“
What?” Cecily’s cheeks flushed.

Jamie
rolled his eyes. “What do you expect? You are young, stunningly
gorgeous, intelligent, funny and passionately caring. I would have
to be dead from the neck down not to have designs on your
delectable body, and that in turn draws my honourable intentions
toward you.”

Cecily
frowned, clearly not sure what to make of it. While a part of her
was thrilled at his opinion of her, she wasn’t entirely comfortable
with the thought that the house staff had been accurate of their
first assessment of her on the first day of her arrival.

She was
sitting on the edge of the bed, still wrapped in the sheet when
Warren arrived with the second tray. This time though she made no
attempt to hide.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

The
following morning, Cecily was awoken by Jamie’s kiss. She sighed
and rolled over, unsurprised when Jamie deepened his embrace. She
blinked sleepily at him, shocked to find it was still dark
outside.

“
What is it?”

“
I have to leave early because I have a long ride ahead. I am
going to find out what I can about our eccentric librarian. Today,
if you have the time, can you see if you can find the old
broadsheets for the area? They may be in the pantry somewhere but
be careful not to ask any of the staff if they can find them. If
you do get a pile of the most recent ones, see if you can make a
list of the house burglaries in the area. Make a list of the dates;
what went missing, that kind of thing; anything that can give us a
clue as to who those items in the secret room may belong
to.”

“
I will also have a look in the library to see if there are any
more books missing,” Cecily sighed, placing a gentle hand on his
jaw before kissing him gently.

“
Stay out of the library,” he growled, scanning the pale flesh
the sheet had just revealed to his rapt gaze. “It is far too
dangerous right now. Just stick to finding out what you can about
the burglaries.”

“
Alright,” Cecily sighed, revelling in his obvious interest. It
felt wantonly decadent to lean back on the bed and stretch, knowing
that he was watching closely.

She
gasped when his weight eased her down into the mattress.

“
I thought you were going,” she chided, making no attempt to
protest as he draped her long legs on either side of his
hips.

“
I am,” Jamie whispered. “Later.”

As soon
as Jamie left, Cecily was faced with a choice. Should she use the
time she had to herself to catch up on some much needed sleep? Or,
should she first do as Jamie asked and see if there any recent and
local broadsheets she could trawl through?

Her
stomach rumbled, prompting her to get out of bed and find
sustenance. Ignoring the soreness, she saw to her ablutions and got
dressed, contemplating the bell pull for several long moments
before deciding to go in search of the broadsheets. Jamie had said
that they may be in the kitchens. Going there in search of food
would give her the perfect excuse she needed to be in the servants’
quarters.

Surprisingly, the place was empty when she got there. The
table was well scrubbed though laden with several freshly baked
pies, two cakes and several loaves of bread. Saucepans lay on the
range, full of chopped vegetables waiting to be boiled. Cecily
considered the vast amount of food and wondering if Jamie was
expecting guests. Her stomach dipped at the thought of Jamie’s
boss, Hugo, who was due to arrive shortly. Was all of this food in
preparation for his arrival?

Taking
advantage of the kitchens being empty, Cecily began to rummage
around, checking first the dresser cupboards before venturing
further into the scullery. She found what she was looking for under
the sinks; a huge pile of broadsheets dating back several months.
It was impossible to carry all of the newspapers upstairs, but she
could carry most of them and did so, using the servants’ stairs to
take them to Jamie’s bedroom.

She was
breathing heavily by the time she returned to the room with a tray
of food she had purloined from the pantry shelves. Her stomach
rumbled warningly and she ate while rifling through the
broadsheets. Given the size of the pile she had to search through,
she was going to be there all day. Settling back, she realised she
hadn’t got any parchment or ink to make a list and hastily went to
Jamie’s study to fetch some.

Pausing
just inside the door, she took a deep breath. Even the room smelled
of him. A pang of longing swept through her that was so strong that
she had to pause for a moment to get her emotions under control.
She had never felt this connected to anyone before, not even
Portia, and it was a little unsettling. She didn’t know if it was
because they were now lovers, or whether he was the only port in
her storm; the only person in her life right now whom she could
count on. She knew that Jonathan was out there somewhere, but she
didn’t really know him, and had only seen him on a couple of
occasions when Jamie had been present. In reality, she didn’t
really know Jonathan at all, even though he was out there keeping
watch over the house.

Shaking
off the melancholy she quickly found several sheets of unused
parchment, a small bottle of ink and a quill from Jamie’s desk and
returned to the bedroom. She tried to keep her eyes off the
painting of his father, she really did, but it seemed to call her.
Reluctantly, she glanced up at the now familiar face and wondered
if there really was such a thing as life after death. If so, what
Michael Calverton thought to the latest turn of events at
Melvedere.

She
spent the rest of the day making copious lists of all of the
burglaries in the area, including lists of the items noted as
stolen around the country of Cumbria. How useful this list would be
to Jamie, she wasn’t sure. It certainly made no sense to her. She
studied the list of dates carefully but could see no pattern to
them. She didn’t even know if half of the places listed were within
reasonable distance of Melvedere.

By the
time she closed the last broadsheet, her eyes were drooping and the
sun had long since given way to the encroaching nightfall. Yawning
widely, she contemplated fetching some more food but, with her
stomach pleasantly full, couldn’t really be bothered to walk all
the way back down the stairs to the kitchens. Instead, she locked
the door and climbed back into bed, wondering when Jamie would be
back. With a sigh, she climbed back out of bed and unlocked the
door. The last thing they needed was for him to have to kick
another door down.

Sometime
during the night, Cecily turned over in bed. She didn’t know what
had woken her, but was aware that the space beside her was empty.
The wave of disappointment that swept through her was strong and
she began to worry about what had happened to Jamie to delay his
planned return. She knew from the clock on the mantle that it was
well past midnight. Where on earth could he be? Had something
happened to him? Had he decided to stay in the town overnight and
return in the morning? It was too late to wake Warren now and ask
him if he had received word.

Tired,
yet thirsty, Cecily pushed the covers back. She didn’t want to be
found wandering the corridors in her night dress, so quickly drew
on a dress and draped a thick woollen shawl around her shoulders.
She was so thirsty that she could have drunk a well dry. As she
walked down the main staircase, she realised just how familiar she
had become with the layout of Melvedere. So much so that she hadn’t
bothered to light a candle, and wasn’t fazed by the darkness of her
surroundings in spite of everything that had happened in the secret
passageways. Was it only a couple of weeks ago since she had
arrived? She felt as though she had been at Melvedere for months.
The place seemed to have adapted and grown around her until she
felt as though she belonged there.

She
turned into the corridor leading to the kitchens, and froze. There,
in the hallway before her, was Jamie’s father. She could see her
breath fog out before her but, thanks to her shawl, couldn’t feel
the biting cold that chilled her toes. The spectre moved down the
corridor. Cecily followed slowly, cautiously, wondering if she
should really just turn around and go back to bed.

“
What do you want?” She whispered, watching as the spectre
moved to stand beside the library door. He pointed. “Do you want me
to go in?” The spectre nodded once.

Cecily
slowly entered the library. The spectre was standing pointing to
the fake book she had found a few days ago.

“
I know, it is a fake book.”

The
spectre moved and pointed to another book. Cecily moved forward,
aware that as she did so the spectre glided away. For that, she
could only be very grateful. She removed the book the spectre had
pointed at. It too was made of wood rather than paper. Again and
again, Jamie’s father showed her about twenty books on the shelving
that were all fake, until Cecily had a pile of books on the floor
by her feet.

Turning
to the table, she quickly began to make a list of the titles. She
became aware that the room was warm again and glanced around her,
unsurprised to find herself alone. She shivered anyway, not wanting
to spend too much time there by herself. She didn’t know which was
worse, Jamie’s long deceased father, or Miss Emstridge.

At least the ghost had been friendlier,
Cecily reasoned to herself, rolling the parchment up before
carefully placing the books back where she had found them. She
wasn’t entirely certain she had put them all back properly but
didn’t think that Miss Emstridge would know either. Staring down at
the parchment in her fingers, she wondered whether to put it with
the list of burglaries she had spent the day creating but then
decided it was best to keep them separate. She could go through the
broadsheets again if she needed to; if for some reason the list got
stolen. She didn’t think she could find all twenty of the books
again; the volume of books surrounding her was just too
great.

Returning to Jamie’s study, she placed the list carefully in
the top drawer. She would tell him about it when he got back. For
now, she was still thirsty and more than a little confused. She had
no idea whether the books being stolen and the burglaries were
being carried out by the same person, or if indeed the items in the
secret room were actually stolen. There was no proof that the boxes
of items in the hidden room didn’t belong to Jamie, but he just
couldn’t remember them from his childhood.