A Phantom Affair (28 page)

“You were deprived of your senses when I knocked you from your feet,” he said as pillows were plumped behind her. Helping her lean back into them, he added, “Forgive me. I am more accustomed to the company of hardened soldiers than a dainty woman.”

“He saved your life,” Marian interjected.

“As she may have saved mine, by giving me an excuse to be focusing on a single guest. If my attention had been caught up in playing the good host for all of them, I might not have seen the misfired rocket in time,” Corey replied, bringing her eyes back to him. “We both are lucky to be alive.”

“Alive,” Ellen whispered, still too astounded to be able to think clearly. If this was the night of the fireworks, then she must have imagined all the rest. She touched the center of her breast. It might have been a dream brought on by a blow to her skull, but within her heart, the love for Corey pulsed with every beat.

Marian settled the covers around Ellen and said, “You should rest, my dear. Lord Wulfric has been kind enough to welcome us to stay here tonight.”

She remembered to look at Corey instead of Lorenzo. “Thank you, my lord.”

“I liked the sound of my given name in your soft voice much better.” He looked past her as Lorenzo opened the door to the hallway. “Rest easily.”

“Wait!”

All of them stared at her, but she did not care. Fighting to control the tremor in her voice, she asked, “Corey, will you stay a moment?”

“You need to rest,” Marian said sternly.

“Only a moment.” She knew she sounded as petulant as a child, but she needed to ask Corey—what? What could she ask him that would not sound as if she was bereft of sanity?

His gaze swept over her, but he did not meet her eyes as he nodded. “A moment, Marian. It might ease her despair at finding the night ending like this.”

“Then I shall stay.”

Corey chuckled. “We do not need a watchdog, Marian. Even as unsettled as she is, I cannot believe Miss Dunbar would allow me to be untoward.”

Marian refused to be put off completely. “I shall go to have some tea brewed for Ellen.”

“The kitchen can manage that,” Lorenzo said. “You should rest as well.”

“Nonsense!” She linked her arm with his and went out of the room. Her voice drifted back, outlining all the shortcomings of the Abbey kitchen.

Corey closed the door slowly and walked back toward the bed. “Marian never changes.”

“I know. You said—” Ellen bit her lip, unwilling to continue. If she told him that he had spoken those exact words to her before, he might demand that she tell him when. Then she would have to explain the unexplainable.

When she did not continue, he set a chair by the bed. He was careful its legs did not strike the floor, and she guessed his head ached as fiercely as hers. Sitting, he said, “I doubt either of us shall forget this celebration.”

“From what Marian says, I owe you a debt for my life.”

“To quote her as well: ‘Nonsense!'”

Ellen smiled.

“Much better,” he said. “You were so still for so long that we feared you might never awake.”

Touching her scorched sleeve, she sighed. “You will have to forgive me if I say something bizarre. My brain was jostled during the explosion.”

“I am sorry to hear that.”

The familiar pressure of hot tears filled her eyes. This trite conversation was what two people who were embarking upon a friendship should share, but Corey was more than a friend to her. He had shared an intimacy with her that she had given no other man, for he had found a place in very center of her heart.

“Do you wish to rest, Edie?” he asked. “I can—”

“Edie?” she gasped, staring up at him. “You called me Edie, but—”

He folded her hands between his as he whispered, “I know your name is Ellen, but indulge me by listening to what I have to say.”

“But—”

He put his finger to her lips. She nearly was overmastered by the heat of his touch. As she leaned toward him, wanting more than his finger against her mouth, he whispered, “I know you see me as a stranger, but nothing could be stranger than experiences I have had.”

“When you were a ghost?” she asked cautiously.

His eyes widened. “You know?”

“I feel as if I know nothing right now. Memories of events that could not have happened resound through my head.” She pressed her hand to her chest, then winced as she touched the stickiness of the blood splattering her bodice. “Mayhap this is nothing but a dream. I saw you die. I know I did.”

“And I saw you there beside me.” His brow furrowed as he took her hand again. Stroking her fingers, he whispered, “I can recall that as clearly as I can recall seeing you lying on the ground in the garden. How could I have carried you here if I was lying in the other room dying?”

The door crashed open. Together they turned. A slight silhouette was outlined by the lamps in the hallway.

“My lord! 'Tis ye, my lord!” came a shout.

“Fenton, you old dog!” Corey exclaimed with a laugh. “I should have guessed you would waste no time in sticking that large nose of yours into this.”

The stableman scowled as he strode into the room like a welcome visitor. “Ye be alive, master.”

“Aye, I be alive,” he answered, copying the old man's accent.

“Somethin' amiss here.” Fenton pulled off his felt hat and scratched his balding head. “Thought ye … Never mind.”

Corey's voice gentled as he squeezed Ellen's hand. “Everything is all right now, Fenton.”

“Aye, 'tis.” Fenton grinned. “Things have been in a muddle, but all is right as rain now.”

As the old man was turning away, Corey said, “Tell us what you know.”

“There be those who think old Fenton's short a sheet or two, my lord. If I were sayin' now what I know, even ye might think that.”

Corey glanced at Ellen and smiled. “I think we would believe just about anything you tell us right now. You know
things
. Can you explain what happened to us?”

Again he scratched his head, then pointed at Ellen. “She knows.”

“I know?” She laughed, but wished she had not when the sound resonated through her head. “What do I know?”

“My lord's exact words.”

She looked from Fenton's smile to Corey's face, which was furrowed with bafflement. Of what did the old man speak?
His lord's exact words?
Her hand clutched the covers as she sat straighter and gasped, “Oh, my!”

Fenton nodded.

Corey frowned. “Would one of you enlighten me?”

Taking his hand in hers, Ellen whispered, “Do you remember what you vowed when you came here the first night?”

“To find you a husband.”

She glanced at Fenton. “You said you would stay here as a ghost and find me the perfect husband before the blooming chrysanthemums signaled the end of summer.”

“The flowers came, and summer ended,” crowed Fenton. “Failed, he did. Knew that soon as she told me the vow. Ye couldn't leave, my lord, with yer vow uncompleted. After all, ye couldn't find her the perfect husband when …” He winked boldly at Corey. “Said enough I have.”

Corey shook his head in amazement. “Do I understand you correctly, Fenton? Are you saying I was not able to find her the perfect husband because, while I remained a ghost, he no longer existed?”

“Couldn't go forward. Couldn't stay where ye were, fer ye were gone 'fore yer time. A Wolfe's vow lasts forever, as ye've said yerself, my lord. So ye came back here, fer 'tis the only way to keep your pledge to find her the
perfect
husband.”

“A single word made all the difference?”

Fenton became serious. “A single word often can be makin' the difference in how the future will unfold. If ye say ‘Nay,' yer path is in one way. An ‘aye' will lead ye elsewhere.”

“So you did die, Corey?” Ellen whispered. “It really happened?”

The old man scowled again. “He stands before ye, doesn't he?” He looked at Corey and tapped his temple. “She may be a bit touched, ye know.”

“I know.” Corey laughed when Ellen glared at him.

Fenton rushed out of the room, shutting the door and leaving them alone once more.

“That was an unkind thing to say,” Ellen said.

“But so true.” He laced his fingers through hers. “You have been only a bit touched if my memory proves even a hint reliable, for we could not do this when … when whatever happened.”

“No,” she whispered as she leaned back in the pillows, “but you did not sit so far from me then either.”

“Marian will be outraged if I take such liberties.”

“True.”

He laughed. “You are a vixen, Edie.”

She held out her other hand, and he took it gently as he sat on the edge of the mattress. When he slipped his arm around her, being cautious not to jostle her injured shoulder, she leaned against his chest. Every dream she had ever had, every longing she had feared would never be fulfilled, was given life as she listened to the steady thud of his heart.

“Out of all this bumble-bath, one thing is clear,” she whispered.

“What?” he asked gently, his fingers curving along her face.

“I love you, Corey Wolfe. I loved you enough to marry another man to free you from that place that was neither life nor death.”

“You were a fool.”

“No, only so in love with you that no sacrifice is too great.”

“None?” He tilted her face up toward his. “Even being married to me, Edie? I shall make you a difficult husband.”

She stroked his broad chest, delighting in the motion of his breathing. “That I know, but I can think of no other husband I would as lief have.”

He laughed. “Marian will be beside herself with delight and bafflement at this abrupt announcement.”

“How shall we explain this to everyone?”

“Why not with the truth?”

“I am not sure if I know what it is any longer.”

“The truth is I love you, Edie, and I want to spend all of this life”—he laughed softly—“and any others with you.”

“Forever.”

He brought her lips to his for the kiss she had waited so long to savor. “Forever.”

All rights reserved, including without limitation the right to reproduce this ebook or any portion thereof in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Copyright © 1996 by Jo Ann Ferguson

Cover design by Neil Alexander Heacox

ISBN: 978-1-5040-0904-1

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