Eternally Yours (13 page)

“You’re kidding.” He looked back up at it. “What one?”

“A Maiden Unmade.”

He searched his mind and shrugged. “Doesn’t ring a bell. Apparently I have some reading to catch up on. You seem to be really familiar with Geoff’s work. You must be a bigger fan than I realized.”

“I guess I am--I mean, even bigger than I realized.” She set down the poker and looked up at her painting. “It’s funny. In school I never had the patience for poetry. The language always seemed too hard to interpret. But I found that little leather volume in the other room not long after I moved here, and something about the verses got to me. I felt like the words took me to another place.”

Following the line of her gaze, Mark felt the same way about her painting. The ambience of the work penetrated his mood. The soft sensuality she’d captured seemed to radiate and blend with the atmosphere in the room. He looked down at Lara, and his desire for her flared. Quietly, he said, “I know what you mean.”

She met his gaze, and this time he couldn’t look away from her. They stared at each other, eyes intent. It felt as though they shared some unique insight--some brilliant spark of mutual understanding. He got an overwhelming urge to connect physically with her.

All at once a coolness swept the back of his neck. He felt the little hairs prick up on end.

Lara broke their stare and darted looks around the room. “Did you feel that?”

“What?” he asked, trying to ignore the goose bumps rising on his arms.

* * * *

Geoff’s venture into the storm had expended most of his fury, but he scowled at his descendant’s pretended ignorance. The ghost had been drawn back into the house when the mortals mentioned his name, only to find them looking rather more cozy than when he had left. The effects of his rage, it seemed, had inadvertently drawn them together. What a fool he was.

“Another draft.” Lara looked toward the window. “These sudden chills may have to do with the changing weather, but I sure wish I’d stop feeling them.”

“A cold front has probably moved in,” Mark said. “That’s normal after a storm.”

Geoff watched with misgivings as he nudged closer to her on the bed of cushions they’d constructed while he was gone. He would have liked to give the young jackanapes a true taste of haunting, but for the lady’s sake he floated upwards until his back lay flush against the ceiling.

Mark put his arm around Lara and rubbed her shoulders.
That knave
, the ghost thought.
I underestimated him. He truly is going to take her from me.

“How’s that?” the mortal asked her, his voice husky. “Shall we move the cushions closer to the fire?”

“No, I’m feeling warmer already.”

Geoff was in no mood to stand back and let this fiasco go further. The idea infuriated him that his worthless descendant, of all living men, should be paired with that lovely woman, while he, Geoff, a true master with the ladies, would never have a lover again.

A distant flash of lightning caught his attention, and he realized what he had to do. He had to get the lights back on and hope that the action would put a damper on Mark’s advances. Electricity had fascinated him since the advent of its common usage, and he’d taught himself some of its workings.

Moving through the nearest wall, he floated back outside. If he couldn’t have Lara himself, he’d be damned if his descendant would.

He
was
damned, he reminded himself and grimaced as he made for the power lines that ran from the house.

Though he felt no rain, the air was thick with moisture, and the sky held no stars. He followed the wires down the block and found a cable with one end ripped from its connection to a metal tower. A large fallen branch lying on the ground revealed how the accident had happened.

His state of high emotion gave him more physical control than he normally possessed. After several efforts and a great deal of concentration, he finally lifted the cable and restored the connection. It helped not to have to worry about being electrocuted, though the buzzing ions and flying sparks around him still proved distracting.

When the neighborhood lights ignited again, he flew back into Lara’s house. Since he’d gone she and Mark had laid back on the cushions, but the sudden brightness startled them. Now they propped themselves up on their elbows, blinking against the chandelier that hung above their heads.

Mark in particular looked bothered. Frowning, he sat up and let Lara’s hand slide from his arm. He ran his fingers through his hair. “I’m sorry. I don’t think we should be doing this.”

She frowned up at him. Her eyes darkened to the hue of stormy seas. “Doing what?”

“I mean, I shouldn’t still be here, now that your electricity’s back on. I really should get back to my place and see how the apartment has weathered the storm. One of the windows in my living room tends to leak.”

Geoff smirked to himself. How he wished he could have served as a living rival to this fool. If he’d been in Mark’s stead, he would have stayed the night with Lara. Couldn’t he see that the lady was ripe for the picking?

She looked down at her fingernails, rubbing her thumb against them. “I see.”

Mark stood and brushed off his jeans. “I hope you’ll be okay. You should keep the candles lit and the fire going, in case you have any more problems.”

Her face paled. “Don’t even mention the possibility.”

He had shame enough to cast his gaze to the floor. “Don’t worry. You’re not likely to run into trouble now. The storm’s well past. And if the lights do go out again, you can always give me a call.”

“Assuming the phones aren’t dead, too.”

He just stood there hanging his head, and Geoff felt disgusted by him. He decided
he
would stay himself and watch out for Lara. If she had any more trouble, he would fix the electricity again.

His mortal counterpart walked into the adjoining library. When he returned he held the portable lamp he’d carried earlier. “Here. Keep my flashlight. The batteries are fresh, so it should be reliable. I’m sorry I can’t do more.”

She let out a sigh but took the light. Rising, she said, “Don’t worry about it. I’ll check the forecast now. If there’s even a hint of another storm in the area, I’m sure I can go to my friend Diane’s house for the night.”

He nodded, then paused, as if reluctant to leave. Geoff found his indecision even more annoying than his chastity.

Lara pursed her lips, apparently impatient with him, too. “I’ll walk you out.”

She went to the foyer, her back stiff.

Mark trailed behind her. When she opened the front door, he stopped and patted his back pocket. “I’d better give you the letter back.”

“Keep it.”

He frowned. “It really belongs in this house.”

She shook her head. “I don’t think a letter like that belongs anywhere.”

He hesitated, while the damp night air drifted into her house. A moth fluttered through the doorway. He swatted at it, but the creature flew into the parlor.

Lara shut the door again. She moistened her lips. “Mark, I was wondering, since you seem so interested in the letter, would you like to come back sometime and help me look through my attic? There are dozens of boxes up there full of old letters.”

He looked down at the one he held. “Wow. I don’t know. I have a lot going on at the moment. For now, I’ll just borrow this. When you feel ready to take it back, call me and I’ll bring it back immediately.”

She nodded and stood back as he reopened the door.

This time he stepped out onto the porch. “I’ll see you.”

“Good-bye.” She closed the door and stood watching through the window while he walked to his motorized carriage. Bolting the lock, she murmured, “I know exactly what you have ‘going on’--that willowy redhead, Karen.”

The ghost raised an eyebrow. Evidently his descendant had a betrothed, if not a wife. Geoff had seen him in the company of a redhead several times but hadn’t detected any close connection between them. If Mark were engaged to the woman, he seemed to be even colder toward her than he was to Lara. Perhaps the arrangement was one of convenience. Unfortunate for him, if that were the case, but the ghost wasn’t entirely convinced his descendant deserved sympathy.

Posture wilting, Lara drifted back to the cushions. She sat before the fire and stared into the flames. A veil of sadness dulled her blue eyes.

Geoff felt an uncharacteristic stab of compassion. She truly seemed to care for his descendant. Though her taste was questionable, that did nothing to diminish her pain.

He longed to approach her and try to comfort her, but any attempt he made would only frighten her. Hanging near the ceiling, he reflected that the lady and he had both had a difficult night.

The image of Mariah’s face in the hearth returned to him, emaciated and pitiful. Her expression had been much like the one Lara wore now.

Exhausted by the evening, he couldn’t muster up the fury he’d felt on first learning of his late lover’s treachery.

Mariah had looked so miserable.

Had he truly brought about her pain?

Chapter 9

After Mark left, Lara had no more problems with the electricity. Over the next twenty-four hours, she didn’t notice any strange drafts, either. She avoided going near the secret room and had trouble getting to sleep, but most of her worries centered around her feelings for Mark. He might have been moody and unpredictable, but she found him
interesting
...and she had really liked kissing him.

So what was she going to do?

During her second night in a row of tossing and turning, she thought she would burst if she couldn’t talk to someone about the situation. She hadn’t spoken to Di since lunch on Tuesday, because she had too much to hide from her. Now she thought it might be time to lay everything out in the open.

When she got up the next morning, she showered and dressed quickly. Too anxious to wait till lunchtime, she set off to visit the store where her friend worked.

“Wow, what a story,” Di said, after Lara had spilled the tale to her between customers at the register. “I can’t believe so much has happened since I saw you. Now aren’t you glad I told you to take the manuscript to his place?”

“Glad?” Lara gaped at her. “Overwhelmed is more how I feel. Have you heard half of what I said?”

“Yes. You found out that Mark is getting over an ex-girlfriend, which confirms that he’s single. He stopped by your place and helped you check out the secret room, so now you don’t have that hanging over your head. And, best of all, he kissed you, so you know he’s interested--which is great, because you seem to like him, too.”

Lara shook her head in disbelief. “First of all, I was convinced there was a ghost in that room the other night, so my problems with it aren’t exactly settled.”

Stepping out from behind the counter, Di stooped to pick up a blouse that a customer had knocked off a rack. “All that lightning and thunder probably just confused you. That was a nasty storm.”

“As for the kiss,” Lara said, “he apologized for it and told me the timing wasn’t right for him...so where does that leave me with him?”

“You need to encourage him.” Her friend brushed off the slinky fabric and hung it back on the rack. “Don’t push him too hard while he’s still feeling wary of women, but don’t let him slip away from you.”

She frowned. “I don’t know if he’s really wary of me or only wants his ex. He’s obviously not over her.”

“So, help him
get
over her. He can’t keep pining for his ex-girlfriend forever, unless he’s such a loser that he’s not worth having, anyway--and I don’t think that’s the case with Mark Vereker.”

“You haven’t seen this Karen person.” Lara frowned. “She’s a flashy dresser, sophisticated, poised--in short, everything I’m not.”

“That could be a good thing.” Di smiled. “But maybe a few new outfits would make you feel better, anyway. I can get you my discount here. As for sophistication, I’ll bet you’re ten times as cultured as she is. Do you think she has a master’s degree in fine art?”

Lara smirked. “Does that makes me cultured?”

“I like to think that my degree in comparative lit makes
me
a woman of the world, which explains why I spend my days selling clothes like this.” She held up a dress with a particularly loud print to her body, then hung it back up. “Seriously, are you judging this woman by her wardrobe, or did she really show some sign of intelligence? What did she have to say?”

“Not much. Maybe you have a point. But she definitely acted jealous when I showed up at Mark’s, so it seems like they both have feelings left over for each other.”

“If they felt much, they’d be together.”

Lara took a moment to think about that. “If you were in my place, what would you do--call him?”

“I don’t know.” Di pulled a size-thirteen skirt out of the size-three section. “Maybe you can run into him another way...get involved with the historical society or something.”

“Yeah, right.” She made a face. “He’s probably told them all about my evil plan to knock out a wall and destroy a perfectly good Victorian house. They’re not likely to welcome the enemy with open arms.”

“But you’ve had second thoughts about that wall, haven’t you?”

She shrugged. “Maybe. But Mark doesn’t know that, so neither do they.”

“So why don’t you tell him?”

Why not indeed?

A customer called Di back to the register, and Lara decided she should let her friend work in peace. She waited for her to complete the transaction, then said good-bye.

“Are you sure you don’t want to drive down to Cape Hatteras with Jerry and me this weekend?” Di asked as they walked to the front of the store. “If nothing else, the trip will give you a break from your ghost.”

“Thanks, but I don’t like the idea of being chased away from my home. If there’s a ghost hanging around, I want to find out why. Rather than be scared out of my wits, I’m going to do some research and see if I can figure out who might be haunting me. Of course, nothing strange has happened in the last couple of days, so it’s easy to be brave about it now.”

“Well, maybe things will stay quiet and you can forget about the whole thing.”