A Phantom Affair (26 page)

“What reasons?”

“I should not need to tell you such things. Why can't you understand? Marian understood when I told her I needed to find a husband before you—Oh, no!” Ellen put her hand over her lips.

His brows dropped into a fearsome scowl. “You told her about me? I thought we agreed no one but you and Fenton would know of this.”

“I had to talk to someone I trusted about …”

“About what?” he asked.

She put out her hands, then pulled them back. How could she tell him the truth which would break his heart if he still had one within him? Yes, he had a heart, for on his face, she could see the pain of it rending. “Corey, I needed to speak to a friend. Fenton may see you as readily as he does the other ghosts in Wolfe Abbey, but he would not heed the disquiet within me.”

“At the thought of marrying my cousin?”

“No.”

“Then what unsettles you so much that you needed to reveal the truth?”

“Corey, I …”

The door came open, and Marian bustled about the room. What once had been amusing and frustrating was only painful. Waiting for Corey to make some teasing comment, Ellen wrung her hands in her muslin gown. He said nothing.

“I thought you might be here,” Marian said, “after that barbaric Kenneth Pratt upset you so.”

“What did
he
do?” asked Corey.

“It was nothing,” Ellen replied to both of them. “He will not be calling here again.”

“And he will not dare to ask Lorenzo to name his friends.” Marian smiled. “His mother will be much distressed when she hears of her darling son risking himself so needlessly.”

“A duel?” Corey shook his head. “I should have stayed and seen the entertainment, Edie.”

Marian gave Ellen a kiss on the cheek. “What a lovely bride you shall be! Think of all the excitement ahead of us. When shall you wed?”

“As soon as the banns can be read.”

“So soon?” asked Marian and Corey at the same time.

He strode toward Ellen. She wanted to back away, but then she would have to explain to Marian that Corey was in the room.

“We thought it best,” Ellen answered. “A quiet wedding in the chapel at Wolfe Abbey with the least fuss.”

“Best to air it out first,” Corey said. “The incense from the funeral—from
my
funeral—may still be lingering.”

She looked at him with pleading. This was not how it should be. She had thought he would be pleased that she had helped him accomplish his vow. When his frown etched lines in his brow, she longed to smooth them away.

Marian's voice yanked her back to that conversation. “I think that is an excellent idea, even though I must own I had hoped for something grander for you.”

“It is what I want.”

“Do you?” Corey's question lashed her.

“Yes,” Ellen repeated, “it is what I want.”

Marian's smile wavered. “I believe you, my dear. Why are you acting so uneasy?”

“It is a new life I am facing,” she said tritely. “I am overmastered by what lies before me.”

“You have done the best you could under the circumstances.” Marian hugged her. “Think of it! We shall be neighbors and will be able to exchange visits for years to come.”

“Just what you deserve, Edie,” Corey said grimly. “If you wish to marry my boring cousin and live a boring life here with calls on Marian being the grandest excitement of your day, then I wish you all the best.”

Ellen shook her head. Why couldn't he comprehend the truth which she must not speak? She had made this decision for him.

“Ellen?”

She paid no attention to Marian as she walked to where Corey was standing by the bed. Looking up at him, she whispered, “Please be happy for me.”

“Happy for you?” he asked over Marian's gasp. Going to the chair by the hearth, he sat and glowered at her. “How can I be happy for you when I know you shall be miserable?”

“Ellen?” Marian's voice trembled.

“You may think,” Corey continued, “that Lorenzo can touch your heart with his silly poetry, but he is much like Reggie Herrold. He thinks only of what brings him pleasure. What of your pleasures, Edie? Will his touch fire your soul and awaken the promise of passion I see in your eyes?”

“Ellen?”

She ignored the panic in Marian's whisper. “Would you have me choose another?”

Marian seized Ellen's arm and cried, “Who are you talking to?” All color fled from her face. “Corey! Are you speaking with Corey? Is he here? Now?” She spun about as if she expected to see him materialize at any moment.

Ellen nodded, not trusting her voice.

“Where?”

She pointed toward the chair where Corey was scowling at her. “Right there.”

“I see nothing.” Marian brought her quizzing glass to her eye and squinted through it. “Nothing at all.” Raising her voice, she called, “Corey Wolfe, you were the most stubborn man I ever knew. Are you going to continue to be so stubborn all through eternity and berate Ellen when she is doing only as you wished?”

Ellen clasped her hands over her ears. “Marian, there is no need to shout. He can hear you.”

“Is he talking to me?” Again she peered through the glass. “Is he still there?”

Corey slowly set himself on his feet. “Edie, a bit of honesty is sometimes a fearsome thing, especially when you are speaking to someone who has no more imagination than Marian Herrold. However, I would appreciate you being honest with me.”

Again Ellen nodded. To Marian, she said, “If you will excuse us, we need to talk.”

“Us?” She shivered. “Are you certain you wish to be alone?”

“I am not alone.”

“I mean with …”

Corey chuckled tersely. “Has she forgotten my name so soon?”

Ellen reassured Marian, but said nothing until her friend had left, looking back on every step. She half-expected the door to reopen. When it remained closed, she looked at Corey. “Say what you wish.”

“I wish you to be honest. You do not love Lorenzo, do you?”

“I have already told you I care deeply for him.”

He stared at her as if he expected her to continue. When she did not, he sighed. “Then I guess there is nothing else to say, is there?”

“One thing.” Taking a deep breath, she whispered, “I love you.”

Instead of answering, he walked toward the window.

“Corey …”

He turned, and she saw her pain mirrored in his eyes. Rushing to him, she flung her arms around … nothing. A sob burst from her as she saw he had stepped aside.

“Do not be jobbernowl,” he warned in a whisper. “To touch me will injure you.”

“Corey, there must be some way—”

“There is no way!” His voice grew as cold as his touch. “Do not torment both of us with what can never be, Edie!”

“How can you know that?
You
should not be, but here you are before my eyes.”

A cool breath brushed her, and she lifted her eyes to his. How she longed to feel his fingertip beneath her chin as he tilted her mouth to his!

Slowly she raised her hands to the luminescence enveloping him. Her fingers curved along his face, although she might as well have been cupping a shadow.

“Kiss me good-bye,” she whispered.

“You know I cannot.”

“Please.”

“I would do anything to please you, but this I cannot do.” His hand moved over her shoulder. When she shivered at the cold, he murmured, “My dearest Edie, I cannot.”

Corey stepped away from her and the sorrow sending tears along her cheeks. He clenched his teeth as he fought the fury building within him. This was not the way it should have been. For so long, he had been seeking adventure, fighting his battles, winning each one—even when it appeared he had lost. This battle, this most important battle, he could not win.

“Forgive me, Edie,” he said as he turned away. “I never should have embarked on this silly attempt to find you a husband.”

“But you did, and you succeeded.”

He smiled. Even now, she thought foremost of bolstering him. Looking over his shoulder, he wondered if anyone had ever been so precious to him. Her lips parted with a sweet invitation to taste them. Damn! He wanted her more than he had ever wanted anything. More than he had longed for glory in the war, more than he had wished to be rid of the burdens of overseeing Wolfe Abbey.

“Marry Lorenzo,” he whispered, “and be happy, my love.”

Her breath caught on a sob, and he was sure someone was twisting a knife in his gut.

“Corey …” She wiped tears from her cheeks. “Thank you.”

“For helping persuade you to leg-shackle yourself to my cousin? You owe me no thanks. As lief you should curse me.”

“Thank you for letting me fall in love.”

“With Lorenzo?”

“With you.” Taking a step toward him, she raised her hand as if to run it against his cheek. She did not touch the icy fire surrounding him. She did not need to, for through it, she could sense his longing which matched her own. “You have given me a most precious gift. The chance to discover that I could truly fall in love … forever.”

“As I will love you forever, my love.” He took a step toward the hearth, then paused. “You will be happy with him, won't you?”

“Lorenzo is a fine man. He will be a good husband.”

“If you ever need anything, call for me. Mayhap I can return.”

“Mayhap?” She clenched her hands by her side.

“I said I would stay until you found a husband. You have. Now …” He did not finish as his form thinned until she could see the curtains behind him.

“Corey!”

He did not answer, and she did not move as his light faded into nothingness.

Sixteen

All the wedding preparations came together more quickly than Ellen had expected. Nothing elaborate was planned, for the Abbey remained in mourning. In the three weeks while the banns were read, Ellen sent an invitation to her parents to join her. Their eager reply arrived two days before they did on the eve of the ceremony.

After a convivial meal in the grand dining room of Herrold Hall, Ellen walked with Lorenzo out onto the balcony overlooking the rose garden. That they were alone was due mostly to her mother's determination that Marian would not intrude on every aspect of the brief courtship.

Stars pocked the night sky. Among the trees, night birds cavorted. The enthusiastic croaking of frogs broke the silence.

Ellen leaned on the balcony and stared up at the sky. Just a short time ago—although the past three weeks had seemed a lifetime—she had stood on another balcony and freed her heart to go with a man who could not claim it. Never would she forget that dance or the heat in Corey's gaze as she had swayed so close to him.

Fingers brushed her shoulders, and she flinched. When Lorenzo apologized for startling her, she touched the shawl he had draped over her bare shoulders.

“Thank you,” she said as he came to stand beside her.

“Your mother does not wish you to take a chill in this autumn air. She fears you will sicken before our wedding on the morrow.”

“My mother or Marian?”

He smiled. “I have never seen Marian so happy. Not even when she wed Reggie.”

“Marian derives so much delight from helping others.”

“That is one way of putting it. I would, as lief, say she enjoys poking her nose into others' lives.”

Ellen laughed genuinely, for what she suspected was the first time in three weeks. “True.”

“And are you happy, Ellen?”

Her smile faded as she turned to look at him. “That is an odd question tonight.”

“I feared you might be having second thoughts.” He cleared his throat and tugged at his waistcoat. “I know you were much taken with Corey, and I am not the man he was. He was a brave hero who saved many lives.”

“Including mine.”

“Yes, and I know how it hurt you when he died.” He gazed up at the stars. “I am just a pale shadow of him.”

“You are not his shadow. You are simply not like him.”

“That also is true.”

She put her hand on his arm. “Lorenzo, he did not have your gift for creating poetry.”

“But he did create a glow in your eyes, Ellen, which remains even now as you speak of him.”

In amazement, she stared at him. She could not deny what he was saying, for she suspected it was the truth. Part of her listened constantly, even in the depths of sleep, for Corey's voice. Each splash of sunlight on the rug caught her eyes, for she hoped Corey was about to reappear.

“If you do not wish to marry me …” she whispered.

“Marrying you will make me happy, but will it make you happy?”

She was glad she could be honest when she said, “As happy as I can imagine being at this moment, Lorenzo.”

He drew her into his arms and kissed her lightly, then released her as he spoke of the newest rhymes he was devising. Only later, when she was alone in her rooms, did Ellen release the tears that had burned behind her eyes all evening.

She looked around the room and whispered, “Corey, my darling Corey, you promised me I would never be alone. Here I am, and I am so very alone. Where are you, Corey, when I need you so desperately?”

“You are a lovely bride,” Ellen's mother said as she stepped back to regard her daughter with a critical eye. Dora was a tall, thin woman with hair only a shade less red than her daughter's. “Lord Wulfric is a lucky man.”

“No,” Ellen replied, drawing on her gloves. “I am the lucky one that he loves me.”

Her mother bent to brush a wisp of lint from Ellen's gown. “And do you love him?”

“I would not marry him if I did not have great affection for him.” She frowned, hating to be less than completely honest with her mother. “Why are you asking such a question
now
?”

With a hug, her mother chuckled. “After watching you think so many of the gentlemen might claim your heart and then changing your mind, I wish to be sure that you are certain about Lorenzo. I know you have a Scotswoman's gumption, but sometimes common sense flies out the window when love touches you.”