Sommersgate House (54 page)

Throughout
this, Douglas listened patiently, his face betraying nothing.

She did
not tell him about her weakness, about being emotionally drained
after hearing what the Kilpatricks had told her that afternoon and
the feelings of disempowerment in the face of Sean that she
couldn’t help but allow to creep back. She did not confide in him
that she was devastated that Sean was going to ruin her much
anticipated plans for the evening. That she was worried about a
lifetime of the vicious Monique as her mother-in-law for, to bring
both her father and Sean back meant Monique truly and completely
detested her and that was
not
a
nice feeling. She didn’t tell him that she was at a loss of what to
do and what to say because she simply had nothing to say, not to
Sean. The moment Douglas arrived, she was trying to think of a way
to get rid of Sean and not coming up with any answers as she’d
already told him to go but he refused.

What she
said instead (looking down at the delicious panna cotta that Mrs. K
served as a finale) was, “I asked him to go but he refused. I
thought it best to shut myself down, let him have his say and hope
you’d be home soon. I knew you’d know what to do and, it turns out,
I was right.” She stopped and smiled at him. “Though I must admit,
it was better than I expected.” Her smile got bigger.
“
Much
better.”

At this
pronouncement, dessert was definitely over (even though she had
several more spoonfuls she very much wanted to consume). Without a
word, he rose from his chair, pulled her from hers and led her back
to his bedroom.

That
time when
they made love, it was
very
slow and
very
sweet. He
touched her with a reverence that was mind-altering; it felt almost
like he was worshipping her. It felt like he was memorising her and
she forced him to allow her to do the same. When, at long last, she
climaxed, she was sure her body was going to shatter at the
pleasure of it and she cried out his name but it was muffled as he
absorbed her call into his mouth and then, very shortly after, she
did the same for him.

That was when
she fell asleep at his side, satiated and happy.

Now, he
held her in his bed, what would soon be
their
bed, his mouth on
just the right spot
behind her ear. She lifted her hands and
slid her fingers into his thick hair.

“What am I
going to do with you?” she whispered into the night.

“Whatever you
want,” he growled into her ear and she felt a shiver slice through
her at her own words of weeks ago being repeated. She shoved his
shoulders gently and cocked her head at him, the corners of her
lips quirking.

“Anything?”
she queried, her eyes dancing.

His mouth
twisted in a diabolically sexy grin. “Just know whatever you do
you’ll suffer the consequences.”

She didn’t
hesitate at his playful threat but pushed him onto his back and
then manoeuvred herself to straddle him. Her fingertips danced
lightly across his abdomen and she watched as he lifted his arms
and linked his fingers behind his head to rest it on his hands

He quirked an
eyebrow at her.

At this
arrogance, she laughed, she couldn’t help herself. She was
beginning to adore his arrogance, it was so
Douglas
.

She ran her
hands across his muscular chest and leaned forward, pressing her
breasts against him and nuzzling his neck.

“I love your
neck, your throat,” she murmured against his skin, darting her
tongue out to lick the length of it. She smelled the cologne she’d
given him and trembled. “It’s my most favourite part of your body,”
she admitted.

“
Your
most
favourite?”
His voice rumbled with desire that was tinged with
amusement.

She lifted her
head to look at him.

“Well, it’s in
the top five,” she allowed. His body shook with silent laughter and
she smiled at him, happier still that she could make him laugh and
again tilting her head. “Maybe the top ten.”

He took his
hands from behind his head and slid them around her waist,
tightening there.

She abruptly
pulled herself up and reached around to take his hands from her
waist and gently forced them across her belly, up her midriff and
then over her breasts. With her hands on his, she positioned them
there, gently squeezing and using a finger on her right hand to
move a finger on his left to scrape across her nipple.

As the
sensations shot from her nipple on a heady bee-line straight
between her legs, she emitted a low moan, her back arching
slightly.

“Jesus,” he
muttered and heaved quickly upward, pulling his hands from her
breasts to slide them down the backs of her thighs and position her
legs so they were wrapped around him.

“Douglas!” she
cried, feeling his hardness beneath her and his hands moved again,
one to her bottom to lift her up and the other between their
bodies. “Douglas!” she exclaimed again, this time in surprise as
his hands came to her hips and swiftly, forcefully, he impaled her.
She uttered a half-gasp, half-groan and immediately wiggled her
hips, grinding further into him as he buried his face in her
neck.

“I love it
that you’re always ready for me. So damned wet.” His voice rumbled
against her neck, vibrating with arousal and she shivered as it
slid across her skin and, even though it most likely meant nothing,
Julia loved it that Douglas had used the word “love” when
mentioning something about her.

“
You’re
being very bad.
I’m
supposed to
do whatever I want with
you,
”
she scolded him with a breathy tease.

“You were
taking too damn long,” he grumbled even though she’d been in
control maybe less than a minute.

Then Douglas
kissed her, long and hot.

When he moved
his mouth to slide down her cheek to her jaw she shakily said,
“I’ll see what I can do to speed things up.”

And she
did.

* * * * *

While the
lovers moved on the bed, across the floor an arctic draught slid
slowly, with melancholy, exiting the room.

It took its
journey, a journey it knew well, a journey it took day-after-day,
week-after-week, for over a hundred years.

In the
study, which had been
his
favourite room, Lady Ruby shifted and formed, becoming the
ghostly vision of herself, a vision, until just recently, she only
let
him
see. She
hovered at the window where, outside, her husband was.

“
Is it love?”
Archie asked and Ruby nodded, but sadly.

He shook
his head, knowing she meant it was there but it was not
expressed.
“Why?”

“
Too much
pain, they won’t admit it.”

Ruby and
Archie spoke without words, communicating telepathically, their
mouths not moving and no ethereal sounds came out.

The only
sound either of them could make was the hideous scream she cried
whenever she was forced to endure, because of the curse, because of
the jealous spurned suitor she had angered and his malevolent
mother who knew the ways of magic, to relive her violent demise
over and over again. Every few months, sometimes if she was lucky,
every few years, it would happen to her again, against her will, at
the base of the stairs. The unseen hands closing around her neck
and squeezing… squeezing…
squeezing
the life out of her.

“
I had hoped…”
Lord Archibald Ashton said to his wife, lifting his hand to
rest it against the window, a hand he could not force through no
matter the millions of times he had tried. Her hand joined his
there, separated forever by the glass, separated forever by
Sommersgate – a cruel irony for it was the house he built out of
love for her.

For his part,
he could always see her from the French doors to the entry, see her
ghostly form strangled again and again, just like that night. She
was always fighting violently against an unseen attacker and he
could hear her scream, like he had that terrible night, but he had
been held back, now by invisible hands but then, by the men, four
of them, and he couldn’t save her.

Once left
alone, he clawed at the doors, tried to break the glass, did
everything he could to get to her lifeless body that lay at the
foot of the magnificent stairwell he ordered made for her. He
wanted to hold her one more time but it was as if Sommersgate was
protected by an impenetrable magical shroud. For hours, chilled
through to the bone, his body becoming exhausted, the freezing cold
permeated him, making him sluggish, until, he too, felt his life
ebb away. Over the years, as it happened time and again, he could
see her, no matter how hard he fought, and he was forced to live
through it again and again, never succeeding in saving her, never
succeeding in getting to his beloved to hold her one last time.

“
He does not understand his love for her, she’s too proud
and stubborn to admit hers and open her heart for what she thinks
will only result in pain,”
Lady Ruby replied and then swiftly moved to reassure her
love.
“We
have hope, the boy, William. He’s like his father. Darling, we just
need to wait a few years and he’ll bring love to this house. He
will free us.”

Archie
leaned his forehead against the pane of glass and his beautiful
ghost of a wife did the same.
“I did want love for Douglas, he –”

“
And I
wanted it for Julia, but you know the curse, they have to admit it,
they have to say it aloud to each other, or we will –”

“
I know.”
Even
without sound, there was an ache in Archie’s words.

“
We’ve done all we can do.”
Lady Ruby, always placating, always trying to
instil hope in him, did it again.

“
I miss you,”
Archie whispered, even though he could see her and speak to
her, he could never be with her.

Lady Ruby
didn’t reply, but misty-white, ghostly tears slid down her cheeks
which said all that needed to be said.

Unheeded
Warnings

The press
release announcing Lord Ashton, Baron Blackbourne would (very
shortly) marry Ms. Julia Fairfax, an American and his
sister-in-law, was met with shocked surprise.

A photograph
was issued with the release, it depicted the couple standing
side-by-side, his arm casually (but somehow possessively) wrapped
around her waist. She was wearing a stunning (and many men thought,
rather sultry) green-black dress and he was wearing a dinner jacket
(and many women thought he wore it rather rakishly).

The men of
Douglas’s set were not surprised that Blackbourne had fallen for
the American. They made a handsome couple. If the many photos were
anything to go by, she had style and an innate elegance, and, of
course, a very nice set of legs. Ashton was known as a man of
refined tastes and this choice for a bride further demonstrated
that fact. Those few who had actually met her thought she was
rather lovely indeed, for an American.

The
women of Douglas’s set
were
surprised, and slightly gratified, that he had fallen for
Julia Fairfax. He was notorious for the not-so-sweet but definitely
young things he favoured as partners. That he would chose a
woman
, and not a
twenty-something, world-weary, cynical, underfed wannabe said a
great deal about the handsome baron. Those few who had actually met
her found themselves not-so-surprised that Julia had managed to
catch the eye (and the heart) of the renown womaniser.

Monique Ashton
was verbosely displeased at the announcement.

Much sooner
than she had expected that night she had taken him to Sommersgate
in an effort to get him to sweep away the unwanted rubbish that
infested her home, Sean Webster had appeared at the door to her
room at the Bath Spa Hotel. He had been in an absolute rage and had
said some remarkably unpleasant things to her. Indeed, she thought
for a moment he might actually strike her. However, the management
of the hotel heard the yelling and intervened, ejecting Mr. Webster
with great force.

Monique went
back to London the next day, already trying to decide her next
course of action.

She would soon
be finalising details on her new, and, she had to admit (if only to
herself), wonderfully expensive and elaborate flat.

Upon arrival
in London, Monique saw the splashy headlines about her son and was
forced to endure phone call after phone call. Of course, Monique
told all of her friends and acquaintances (and some people she was
not so friendly with) exactly how she felt about the scheming
little American her gullible son had asked to marry him.

Unfortunately,
these conversations reached the ears of both Oliver and Charlotte
Forsythe, (upon hearing the happy news, the former, extremely
pleased for his friend, the latter, hysterically giddy with delight
for both Julia and Douglas) which meant they very swiftly reached
the ears of Douglas. Per usual, Douglas even-more-swiftly went into
action.

Monique’s
phone rang again only days after the official announcement. It was
Douglas’s PA, Samantha, a girl Monique had very little time for but
had to suffer because she was making arrangements for the new
flat.