The Ghost Who Loved Me (15 page)

Why did it create such disappointment for her?

What did she expect?

Anthony was a third son of the Viscount Wakefield. He had no income despite investing his small inheritance. He had to marry well. The fact he lied of it was what bothered her, recalling how James accused him of being a fortune hunter. She staunchly defended Anthony before and now was mildly piqued James was proved to be right.

Anthony was working both her and Jane. He would gain a rich wife either way it went. The anger to be so used by him made her cut her visit short to collect her maid.

Elizabeth was eager to go home, recognizing she missed James this whole time she was gone. She learned all she needed to know about her misguided love and felt more than a little foolish.

She was excited to get back to Westerleigh, if only to see James. She would admit it only to herself. A smile played about her lips to know she had a secret no one else in the world knew.

Elizabeth believed she was becoming quite infatuated with James. Sadly, that was a fact she also acknowledged when she met with Anthony. All she did the whole time was unconsciously compare him to James and found him lacking in some way.

James was incredibly annoying but he also spoke plainly, the truth, whether one chose to hear it or not. His sense of chivalry in regard to women was questionable but she was certain he had honor, seen in his adherence to her rules. And he was also handsome, strikingly so, making her question her own sanity to admire a ghostly apparition opposed to a living breathing man.

Elizabeth was angry at her uncharitable thoughts of the man she once loved, before catching herself. She knew whatever feelings she had changed on their own, without James adding to her doubts. She saw and heard all she needed to.

She cursed her rebellious thoughts that centered on a ghost who had been dead for three hundred years, not a living man who claimed to be willing to move heaven and earth to be with her. She declared herself a glutton for punishment in setting her sights on such impossible men. 

She was eager to discover what Mr. Trask found out. Learning what became of Lenore was just the beginning of the tale, she was sure. Whatever Mr. Trask unearthed was bound to upset James. While he needed to know to ease his mind, she suspected whatever became of his lady would wound him no matter how it turned out.

James watched every coach that moved towards Westerleigh with a feeling of elation. And then a black scowl every time it proved to not be Elizabeth returning home from Yorkshire. He paced upon the parapets in wait for her every day that she was gone, his silver eyes alert and watchful.

She had been gone a fortnight.

James refused to name what he was feeling inside at that moment. It was just too ridiculous to contemplate.

Dare he admit it, but he missed her?

After three centuries with no one to talk to, he found it hard to believe he missed anyone anymore. Everyone he knew once in life was long dead, self included. She was the first living person he began to look upon as a friend of sorts in too many years to count.

James smiled to think of that other aspect of their friendship she was blissfully unaware of. His naughty nightly visits to her room were also missed by him. The satisfaction of those passionate encounters was so pleasurable, he longed for her with an eagerness he could only attribute to other-worldly lust.

James longed to be of the flesh more and more these days, to go to her and feel alive for once in three hundred years. His lips tightened to think she would refuse him, possibly recoil in fear and disgust, claim to love that fool Wakefield still.

James listened to the servants talk about Lady Westerleigh’s impending arrival from London. He frowned to learn a physician from London was also arriving soon to access her condition on behalf of the duke.

He listened to them mock Elizabeth’s loss of faculties and say unkind things of their employer’s wife, refraining from lashing out at them for their ignorance.

It was obvious Edward was trying to have her declared mad.

While Elizabeth thought it all some grand joke and failed to take it seriously, she had no idea what consequences her outlandish behavior might incur. Husbands had all of the power over their wives, even in this modern time period.

James felt in necessary to warn her upon her return. The doctor was staying a week to fully diagnose any mental incapacity she may have. She had to see this as serious. Edward was finding some clever way of ridding himself of his wife.

However Elizabeth and her husband didn’t suit one another, she didn’t deserve that from him. James was angry and outraged he could do nothing for her. He felt guilt for putting her in such a dire position with demanding she help him.

Mr. Pettigrew felt enormous guilt also, claiming to the housekeeper he should have never written to the duke but handled the matter internally. Sadly, it was far too late. Already the doctor was set to journey here. His diagnosis would either free Elizabeth or condemn her.

James thought privately anyone who worked for Edward would say whatever he was paid to say. This cursory examination was just to make all look neat and tidy when he locked her away for the rest of her life.

He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw another coach arriving some time later, watching as it turned through the wrought-iron gates and headed towards the castle.

He dropped down to the courtyard to be the first to greet her. He was unaware of how eager he was until that very moment to see her face again.

~ ~ ~

Elizabeth was tired when she arrived back at the castle late that afternoon. She was greeted by Mr. Pettigrew at the front door, the footmen collecting her bags from the coach. She inquired after all of the servant’s welfare. The butler appeared rather guilty as he answered her politely.

Elizabeth asked Mr. Pettigrew to see about water for her bath. She walked upstairs, shivering suddenly as if a cold hand just reached out to caress her cheek, smiling and knowing James was close.

The strange awareness she had of him now was uncanny. It was as if she instinctively sensed him whenever he was near. It was almost comforting to her and not frightening at all.

For that, she was self-conscious of her appearance in the dusty travelling costume. She longed for a hot bath. A soft smile curved her lips, imagining James staying in her room. She became over-warm at the thought of him watching her while she bathed.

Elizabeth hoped James lingered in her room long enough to know what she wanted from him. An unexpected need formed within her while she was away.

She couldn’t name what her body seemed to crave of late. A sense of fear was felt to imagine James coming to her. A part of her welcomed it. The other part was scared witless.

A quiver of something very odd was felt in her middle to think of those silver eyes moving over her nude body. A faint blush stole across her cheeks. Such thoughts sped up her heart, making it thump wildly in her chest.

Elizabeth knew it was wrong the minute the thought popped into her head. She made James promise to adhere to her strict sense of privacy, but a part of her wanted him to ignore such rules. A part of her wanted him to see her as desirable. A part of her wanted him, she realized with a look of longing in her eyes.

~ ~ ~

James watched her move the sponge across her full naked breasts. His eyes clung to her wet coral-tipped nipples bobbing within the sudsy water. He sat next to the tub, leaning negligently across the edge, watching her at her bath with hot silver eyes filled with desire.

Elizabeth was humming to herself softly. Her hand moved achingly slow with the sponge along her ivory neck and shoulders. His mouth might have watered if it were even possible. Her rich sable hair was piled atop of her head with damp ringlets framing her lovely face.

James groaned aloud when the sponge dipped under the water to slide between her legs. Her lips were parted. She was no longer humming. The sponge floated upward, but her hand remained under the water, her soft sighs like music to his ears as he watched her slowly pleasuring herself.

James felt like a voyeur for invading her privacy but he couldn’t look away, knowing how passionate Elizabeth was under all of her innocent exterior. She was stroking her soft pink womanly folds, her tongue fluttering out to wet her lips. 

James couldn’t help himself any longer, his hand sliding into the water, merging with hers to stroke that warm aching flesh. The water was almost hot, his icy touch disguised as he manipulated those dewy folds apart.

He inserted his icy finger within her, hearing her sigh in ecstasy as he concentrated his energy to produce the desired pressure. The invisible force thrusting back and forth created a cool tingling within her. The water was swirling in the tub from his actions. The force of his finger made her cry out softly.

Elizabeth was gasping aloud, her head thrown back against the side of the tub. He sighed and his lips lowered to her nipples, licking at them, focusing all of his energy on making them harden like frozen cherries under his ghostly caress.

She was whimpering as her own hand and his worked frenziedly to guide her to climax. Elizabeth gasped loudly as finally a dam of sensation flooded over her, the spasms making her tense, her knees splayed wide as she came. She gripped the edge of the tub, sobbing suddenly aloud.

James was so intoxicated by her response, he was unaware the water on his hand gave him a reflective outline at that moment as his hand covered hers. He was shocked to see her hand attempt to capture his, telling him without words she knew he was there. He stiffened, knowing he violated her trust already far worse than this, prepared for her anger.

Elizabeth didn’t run screaming in rage from the bathing chamber as he thought she might to know she was far from alone at her bath. She sighed aloud and laid her head back against the tub when he looked down at her.

“I want you to stay with me, James,” Elizabeth whispered softly as she lay contentedly within the warm water. “It’s what we both know I want.”

James was glad he had no way to answer her at that moment, overwhelmed with what she asked. She was inviting him to stay with her here, in her room, to always be near her.

Do I even want such closeness anymore with the living?

Do I hurt her feelings to tell her such comforts were not necessary for a ghost?

Those things were only coveted by the living. He rather thought he would keep that to himself, wanting to be with her in any way she would name.

James leaned down, his icy lips brushing against hers in answer, making her gasp at the coolness of the feathery light touch. Soon, she felt more than a little hot as her ghostly lover began to explore her body greedily once more, leaving a trail of water droplets to mark his lustful passage. The pins in her sable mane were tossed across the room to land upon the floor. Her long ringlets fell about her shoulders in lustrous red-brown waves.

Elizabeth closed her eyes as she felt herself being lifted from the tub, feeling weightless as she was dried with a toweling sheet and placed upon her bed.

The incredible feeling as he joined her made her moan aloud. Her life force merged with his at last made James tremble violently, his hips going through hers, making her weep aloud. Her cries of pleasure echoed within the bedchamber as their bodies settled within the other. James nestled within her, groaning aloud as the hot searing pleasure exploded within them both, leaving them shaken and sated.

~ ~ ~

Elizabeth leaned over and tickled James’ nose with her finger, watching it go through his nostrils and giggling while he pretended to be sleep. Her eyes slid down every inch of his nude transparent body lying upon her bed, sighing at his hard muscled magnificence.

His dark chest hairs begged for her fingers but she couldn’t touch him, her fingers merely going through him if she tried. She reached out to touch a faint scar on his upper thigh, her hand hovering over the spot, wondering how he received it.

They lay in her bed for hours, and she still couldn’t get enough of him. The unspeakable passion he unleashed upon her was like nothing she ever felt before. The braid of hair was now pinned within her own tresses, allowing her to see him to her heart’s desire.

James explained to her already the act between them wasn’t at all physical, even if it was more intense than anything she ever felt. She was still very much a virgin, if only in theory. After hours of having him tutor her body to receive his every sexual desire, she felt far from innocent.

“I believe I’ve created a bit of a monster in you, madam,” James said as he opened one lazy silver eye to look up at her, smiling tenderly. “Do you not ever tire, woman? We’ve been at this for hours. You are turning out to be an insatiable minx, Elizabeth.”

“You’re a ghost, James,” Elizabeth reminded him pertly as she rolled over onto him, her body merging with his icy one. “You don’t get tired anymore, remember? And you don’t fool me. You worry I need my rest. I can assure you, I’m not in the least bit tired.” Her squirming body within the swirling vapor of his made him gasp as the feel of her warmth ignited his passions once more.

James used his mind to send her flying backward to land upon her back onto the mattress, chuckling as he hovered above her on the air, his lips meeting hers, the cold brush of them making her sigh aloud.

Elizabeth bit her lip, closing her eyes as her arms were suddenly pinned above her head by unseen bands of steel and held there. Her legs were wrenched open, her ankles held stationary in the corners of the mattress.

James hovered over her, dipping downward and floating in and out of her, his body merging with hers until they were both crying aloud. He pumped downward, his naked transparent hips plunging through her own, making her sob and dig her heels into the mattress as shards of icy pleasure erupted within her.

She couldn’t move held down by some trick of his mind. The touching she felt was his manipulation of energy, he explained. Even air could be harnessed with enough force to allow him to simulate an actual physical touch. It took a great deal of concentration on his part to make her feel such taut physical sensations.

The solid pressure she often felt with such force within her womanhood when he entered her was also a manipulation of energy, he told her in amusement, seeing her eyes widen as she noticed his impressive sex between his thighs.

James assured her hadn’t used that particular organ for centuries.

Elizabeth found it all highly scintillating as she stared up at his handsome transparent face etched in passion above her. The pleasure was building to such a degree she thought she would explode from it.

James was incredibly in tune to her desires, his long fingers winding within her rich hair, rustling it around his fingers with the direction of his thoughts, forcing her head back with a look as he bore her into the mattress. She gasped aloud, feeling a hard sense of impalement each time he came to her, her cries growing increasingly louder.

The mattress squeaked in protest beneath them, the bed frame knocking against the wall. She wept, her head rolling upon the sheet, incoherent words escaping her lips as he plumbed the very center of her warm flesh, merging his cool, transparent frame within hers at last.

Elizabeth shook violently, longing to feel his skin under her fingertips, to dig her nails into his muscled back, her eyes clinging to his as he at last made them as one. Her body arced upward in answer to his, before she shuddered violently and went still, her ragged breathing roaring in her own ears, seeing lights before her dazed eyes.