A Phantom Affair (12 page)

Sliding down off the rock, Ellen looked back and saw no sign of Corey. Regret pricked her. Even though he exasperated her beyond common decency, she appreciated Corey's company while she spoke with the too amorous Mr. Adams.

She picked up his coat and dropped it into his arms. She set her parasol on her shoulder and asked, “Shall we go?”

Mr. Adams put his hands on her shoulders and turned her to face him. When she gasped at his brazen motion, he pulled her closer.

“Mr. Adams, what are you doing?”

He chuckled. “Are you so innocent that you do not know?”

“I know,” she said, twisting away, “what the canons of propriety are.”

His arm swept around her waist as he tugged her back to him. Tipping back the wide brim of her bonnet, he cupped her chin. She gasped when he drew her mouth toward his.

Shaking her head, she cried, “Let me go!”

“Hush, my dear. We have talked too much. 'Tis time to use our lips for other pursuits.”

She shoved against his chest with both hands. He rocked back a pair of steps. Her eyes widened as a log slid across the sand behind him. He tripped over it and sprawled on the ground. Trying to rise, he dropped heavily, face-first, into the sand.

Ellen stared in disbelief as Corey appeared, shaking his hand. He looked down at the man on the beach and smiled before turning to Ellen. “Thanks, Edie, for the opportunity I have been waiting for since he came back to England.”

“You hit him?” she whispered.

“Didn't he deserve it?”

Instead of answering Corey, she bent over the man on the sand. “Mr. Adams! Are you hurt?”

He mumbled something, then spit out a mouthful of sand. “Damn gritty. Forgive me my language, Miss Dunbar.”

“No need for you to apologize about your language.” She scowled at Corey, who folded his arms over his chest and grinned. She stared at the scarlet mark on Mr. Adams's cheek. It matched the fiery mark on her shoulder when Corey had touched her.

“I believe I am fine.” Mr. Adams took her hand and slowly stood, drawing her to her feet. Folding her hands between his, he pressed them to his chest and smiled weakly. “My dear Miss Dunbar, your concern for my well-being is the very best medicine I can envision.”

She pulled her hands out of his. “If you are fine, then I see no need to continue this conversation.”

He caught her by the shoulders again. “You must allow me to apologize.”

Corey stepped toward him. Flexing his fingers, he smiled. “Say the word, Edie, and I shall gladly give him another facer. The cad has been in need of lessons in manners for longer than you can imagine.”

She bit her lip. Mr. Adams would not be able to see or hear Corey. She was certain of that. Yet she could not keep from tensing. This was all so incredibly absurd. Whoever had heard of an invisible chaperon?

“Your apology is accepted, Mr. Adams,” she said in her coldest voice. “Mayhap the ways that are customary in America are different from ours in Britain.” She eased out of his grip. “Good day, sir.”

“Miss Dunbar, it would be tragic to let our friendship come to such an end.”

“I suspect friendship is not what you have in mind.”

Again he put his hand on her arm. “You are intuitive, but why do you run away when I only wish to show you how much I admire you?”

“Sir, I have asked you to desist already.” From the corner of her eye, Ellen saw Corey edge toward Mr. Adams.

She shrieked when Mr. Adams brought her into his arms. The sound vanished beneath her hand striking his cheek. He released her and scowled.

“Damn, Edie,” grumbled Corey as he came to stand beside her. “I wanted to do that.”

She ignored him as Mr. Adams said, “If you think this game is amusing, I can tell you that I tire of it.”

“As I do.” She settled her bonnet back on her hair. “I bid you good day
again
, sir.”

“Don't understand it,” Mr. Adams mumbled under his breath as he turned to walk away. “Heard she was desperate for a husband. No wonder.”

Ellen gasped in horror. What gabble-monger had started that rumor? Marian? She could not accuse her bosom-bow of that. It was too awful.

Mr. Adams took two steps and sprawled across the sand again.

Ellen turned her back on him before he could see her smile. When Corey appeared on the rock in front of her, she asked, “How can you move from one place to another with such speed?”

“'Tis mostly an illusion.” He gave her a wry grin. “I learned quickly during my time in France that speed is as much an asset to a galoot as a good gun and an accurate eye.”

Mr. Adams jumped to his feet, brushed sand off his clothes, and lurched away at the best speed he could manage. Ellen laughed. She could not help it. The man looked like a frightened snake slithering away into its hole.

“Much better,” Corey said.

“I should not laugh at someone else's misfortune.”

“His only misfortune was to be on the wrong side of the hedge when brains were given away.” He brushed sand from the lace on her parasol. The lace became as rigid as the handle of her parasol, but she ignored it as Corey continued, “You would have bamblusterated him in the wink of an eye if you were not so blasted sympathetic to blind buzzards.”

Tipping back her parasol, she looked at Corey. “Do I owe you a thank you?”

“No, but, Edie, you do need someone to keep track of you.” He laughed.

“I would have handled him by myself.”

“He seemed to be the one doing the handling.”

“You are impossible!”

He shrugged on his coat. “And you are too lovely. I shall have to keep a better eye on you. Do you know how many times I have heard Josiah Adams spin those court-promises to any miss who would listen?”

“Obviously a few.”

“Obviously quite a few, especially when you realize he has not been back in England for long.”

“Be that as it may, I did not ask you to intrude into my life. I would thank you to keep your nose—and your comments—out of my personal affairs.”

“And break my vow?”

She sighed. She had no idea how one rid one's life of a ghost who was determined to play matchmaker … especially when the vow she wished for him to fulfill was the passion his gaze promised.

Seven

Ellen lowered her book as the familiar sound of a lilting whistle filled her bedchamber. Glancing around the room, she smiled and plumped her pillows behind her. There was no need to concern herself about sleeping now.

“Very well,” she said. “I give up. Where are you, Corey?”

His chuckle seemed to float about the room. It was everywhere at once. Not for the first time, she wondered where he was when he was not visible. So many questions filled her head, but he never gave her a chance to ask a single one.

A glint by the window caught her eye. Was it just moonlight? She shifted on the bed. When a twinge raced up her arm, she winced.

Corey immediately appeared by the chair. “Does your arm still hurt?”

“Not as badly as Mr. Adams hurts after your antics,” she replied. She rubbed her arm gently as she added, “And mine.”

He smiled. “I thought you were fond of him when you walked away from the others with him, but I hear scanty sympathy in your voice.”

“What gave you that idea?”

“You were so solicitous of him, even after he tried to kiss you.”

Ellen relaxed into the pillows. “Of course I was. How could I
not
have pity for the poor man when you were plaguing him incessantly?”

“No more than he deserved.”

“Deserved? Even if he has the manners of a boor, you were a bit unrelenting on him. There was no need to trip him.”

“Come now.” He sat on the foot of the bed. “Do you wish me to believe you found his company refreshing?”

“I had not heard his nothing-sayings before.”

He laughed. “Save when I spoke them first.”

“Yet you guessed I would find a
tendre
in my heart for him? Did you think he would make the perfect husband for me? I thought you knew me better than that.”

“Did you?”

“I thought we had become friends.”

“Really?”

Ellen was about to retort in the same light tone, then saw his smile had vanished. As before, she was amazed by the drastic change in his visage. A fervor burned in his gaze, and the stern planes of his face hinted at his uncompromising determination to do what he believed was right, no matter what others might think. Abruptly she could see the determined man who had turned his back on his family and gone to serve his country on the far side of the Channel.

“Corey,” she said quietly, “although I never imagined anything like this could happen, I am becoming accustomed to the peculiarity of our friendship. I can think of no reason why we should not continue to be friends.”

“Under the circumstances, I would say friendship may be the limit of what we can enjoy.”

She looked away, but not before she again saw the truth she fought to ignore. The attraction they had relished the night of the fireworks had not died along with him. If he were alive, he would not be satisfied with only friendship.

Nor would she
.

Slowly she raised her eyes to meet his gaze. No longer did it seem odd to see the dark patch covering one eye. The incandescence around him had become a part of him. Rising to her knees, she put out her hand.

“Edie, be careful,” he whispered. “I do not wish to see you hurt again.”

She dropped to sit heavily on the mattress. “This is unsettling to have you separated from me by this cold fire.”

“A small price to pay when you can enjoy my company.” He gave her one of those irrepressible grins that demanded she smile back. “And I can enjoy a delightful intimacy you would not offer me otherwise.”

When his gaze dropped, Ellen tugged the front of her wrapper closed. She adopted a tone of icy hauteur to say, “You are no gentleman, my lord, to take note of my
déshabillé
.”

“Even a ghost cannot overlook such a pleasing sight.” He tapped his chin as he frowned as severely as a schoolmaster. “I would suggest fewer buttons on that nightdress, however, on the first night you spend with your husband. The man could die of old age before undoing them all.”

“Corey!”

“Edie!” he retorted in the same shocked tone. “Do not play the shrinking maiden with me. I have overheard enough conversations among the misses to know they are as curious about their wedding nights as the lads they wed.”

“Eavesdropping is—”

“Deplorable. Is that the word you used last time?” He arched his brows. “I have to own it is much easier now, such as when I listened to your explanation to Marian of what happened to Josiah Adams. I am in awe of your Scottish gift for falsehoods.”

Ellen stared at him, unable to speak. Finding her voice, she cried, “Jings—”

“Jings? A new name for me?”

She would not let him tease her out of her exasperation. “'Tis nothing but a Scottish saying for those times when you know that words are useless.”

“What words are useless?”

“The ones I speak over and over about you and me and this peculiar circumstance we find ourselves in. If you are going to haunt me, Corey Wolfe, I think it is time for some rules.”

“I think not.” Standing, he walked around the foot, of the bed. “Why should I have to obey your rules when I am trying to help you?”

“I have no interest in your help.”

“'Tis unfortunate for you, because, after what I saw this afternoon, you need it.” He gripped the upright on the bed and smiled. “How did you rid yourself of your other suitors, Edie? Did you kiss each of them before sending them on their way?”

With an oath, she fired a pillow at him. He laughed as it sailed through him, then bent to retrieve it. He threw it at her. She gasped when it struck her.

“That is not fair!” she gasped.

“All is fair in love and war, Edie.” His smile faded as he sat again on the bed. “Trust me. That I know firsthand.”

“Then tell me about the war.”

Shock was emblazoned on his face. “Why do you want to hear of that?”

She laughed. “Now you can see how it feels when someone else meddles in your life.”

“That part of my life was over before we met, Edie.”

“It
haunts
you.”

“True.”

She was amazed when he did not fire back a teasing answer. This was the first thing he had not found humor in. She put her hand out to his, but he drew back.

“No, Edie, I warned you already. Don't risk hurting yourself.”

“It hurt me when you touched me. If I touch you …”

His lips straightened into a taut line. “Do not tempt me with the fantasies that already fill my head. I think of your touch far too often.”

“I am sorry.”

“I'm not.” His bright grin returned. “'Tis one of the few pleasures left to a ghost. I can speak my thoughts of how I would like to hold you, and you cannot slap my face for my bold comments as you did to Adams.”

“He deserved it.”

“Without question. And so would I, if you could be privy to my thoughts now.”

“I shall not allow you to change the subject.” She drew her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them, not wanting him to guess how much she wanted to turn the course of the conversation before he discovered how his words unsettled her. If his thoughts matched hers, it would be wiser to speak of something else … anything else. “Tell me about the war, Corey. From what little I have heard whispered about here and at Wolfe Abbey, it is rumored that you were captured. Is that true?”

“Yes.”

“And you were a hero?”

“A reluctant one. If I had had half the sense God gave a goose, I would have been able to get my men out of that ambush and myself as well.”