Possession (24 page)
"Not too
busy to see you." He lifted my hand to his lips and kissed it. "I
should go. Take care, dearest Emily."
We rose and I
turned toward the door but stopped dead. Jacob stood at the end of the sofa,
watching me. But there was none of his usual arrogant confidence in his stance
or his manner. He looked lost and lonely.
Our gazes held
for a brief moment and then he turned away. His fingers dug into the sofa's
back. If Theo looked, he would have seen the dents they made.
"Are you
leaving us, Mr. Hyde?" Celia asked, breezing into the drawing room with a
too-bright smile. "What a shame."
"I must
return to my aunt's house." Theo bowed to each of us. "Good day, ladies."
"Celia,
would you mind walking Theo to the door?"
Her smile
slipped a little, but lifted again when she turned it on Theo. "Certainly.
Mr. Hyde?"
Theo bowed to me
again and left with Celia.
"You
shouldn't listen in on the conversations of others," I said to Jacob. The
fact I hadn't been aware of his presence unsettled me. Ordinarily I knew when
he was in the room, even when I wasn't looking at him.
"You're
right," he said quietly. "I am sorry. I didn't mean to, but…I
couldn't help myself."
The tremble in
his voice crushed any words of reproach I'd been about to say. I moved up
behind him and placed my hands flat against his back. Muscle rippled with
tension beneath his shirt. He heaved a sigh then slowly turned.
His eyes were
shadowed once more beneath his long, thick lashes. Whatever emotions had
troubled him were now tucked away, out of sight. "I was wrong," he
said.
"About
what?"
"About Theo."
"Oh."
I didn't want to hear this, didn't want this conversation, not with Jacob. It
was awkward and utterly wrong. I turned away, but he spun round and caught my
shoulders. Gently but determinedly, he made me face him. I would not look into
his eyes, however. I was only holding onto my dignity with a thread as it was.
"I want you
to…to let him court you."
"Jacob,
please," I whispered. "Don't."
"No, listen
to me." He tilted my chin, forcing me to look up at him. A glossy sheen
made his eyes shine and if I didn't know better, I'd have thought he was
gripped by a fever. "He seems like a good man. Solid. Not idle as I first
thought."
"Really?"
My sneer prodded
a wince from him and I instantly regretted my tone. "I think he would make
a fine lawyer." He swallowed. "And a fine husband."
"Jacob,
stop it!" He allowed me to wriggle free, dropping his hands to his sides.
I stepped back where I hoped his intensity couldn't suck me in again. "Why
are you doing this now when before you were so against him?"
He sat on the
sofa. He looked deflated, defeated. "There are many reasons. But mostly
it's because he is a good man and I've seen the way he looks at you."
"How does he
look at me?"
"The same
way I do."
An iron claw gripped
my heart. Its sharp talons pierced and squeezed. "You mentioned other
reasons," I whispered. "Tell me, Jacob. Tell me why you're pushing me
toward him, because I don't understand." I was angry now, my words harsh.
But I thought he loved me and I wanted to know how he could want another man to
wrap his arms around me, kiss me, lie with me. I know I couldn't stand by and
watch another woman with Jacob if the roles were reversed.
"I want you
to be happy, Emily. Is that so hard to understand?"
My lip trembled
and I bit it. I shook my head. And yet, there was something else. I could hear
it in his voice and see it in the way he didn't quite look at me. "Why do
you think another man would make me happy when it's you I love?"
He flinched as
if I'd struck him. "Love can be fleeting."
I dropped to my
knees at his feet and caught his face in my hands. "If you think what we
have is fleeting then I will go to Theo. Willingly." I searched his face,
but he wrenched himself free.
"There is
another reason," he said. "I must give you up, Emily. It will keep
you safe."
Give you up
. His words gnawed at me. They meant something, but I couldn't think
what. "We don't know that," I said.
"We do."
His voice was thick and ominous, like a thunderstorm rolling in. "I heard
Mortlock. The person who killed me wants me to suffer. Thanks to Mortlock, he now
knows how I feel about you and he knows hurting you will hurt me." He
suddenly grabbed me and pulled me onto his lap. I barely had a chance to suck
in a breath before he kissed me.
The kiss was
possessive but not hard. All my pent-up longing and desire spilled into the
kiss and I pressed myself into him, wanted to have more of him. I pushed his
shirt off one shoulder and he groaned as I kissed his bare skin.
Then he set me aside
and stood. He paced the room, dragging his hands through his hair, down his
face. "This is why." He groaned.
Tears burned my
eyes, clogged my throat. I said nothing, just sat on the sofa like a pathetic,
forgotten doll.
"Emily,
please." He stopped pacing and dropped to his knees in front of me, our
positions exactly reversed from moments ago. "Please, you have to forget
about me. Go to Theo." He took my hand and pressed it against his cheek.
His eyelids fluttered closed and the lashes looked like small, perfect fans.
"It's the best thing, the right thing. I have to give you up or neither of
us can move on." His eyes sprang open and he fixed me with a
heart-shattering stare. "And we have to move on, Em."
I was crying
now, the tears falling freely. Despite all the sadness flowing out of me, I
remembered what his words meant. "You think giving me up is what will
break the curse."
The flame within
him seemed to dim. He nodded. "My killer said I must give something up.
Something dear to me.
You
are dear to me." He smiled gently and
rested a hand on my knee. "The dearest."
I held my breath
until my emotions subsided and I could think a little clearer. "Then if
you are right, and our parting is the trigger for you to crossover, I will try
and..." I could not say "forget you" because I could not forget.
"I will give you up too."
He bent and
kissed my knee where his hand had been. "I do want you to be happy
too," he said.
If my heart
hadn't felt so heavy I would have laughed at that. "I know, Jacob. I
know."
"And you
will…let Theo court you?"
"I will let
events run their natural course." I couldn't make promises in my current
state. I certainly didn't feel like having another man court me, but it seemed
to be important to Jacob that I give Theo the opportunity.
"His
actions here today have convinced me he cares for you. Make sure he proves his
worth though," he said, sounding like an older brother and not at all like
the man I loved.
I nodded and
wished the subject could be forgotten. "Will I see you again?"
"Of
course," he said, much too cheerfully and quickly for me to believe him.
"I will not cross without coming to see you first and I don't think I'll
be going anywhere until the villain is caught. I cannot leave knowing you and
my family are vulnerable."
I leaned forward
and kissed him lightly on the lips, just as Celia entered. She frowned at me
but said nothing. Jacob rose and with a sad smile, blinked out of existence. I
sat back with a heavy sigh.
Celia perched on
the sofa beside me. "That Mr. Hyde told me how brave you were. He has a
great deal of admiration for you."
I sighed again.
I suddenly felt so tired. All I wanted to do was crawl into bed and sleep.
"He's very
nice too," she said. "Very nice indeed."
"I know."
I didn't want this conversation with her, not straight after having it with
Jacob.
Jacob, my ghost.
Would I see him again? I couldn't be sure and he hadn't sounded certain
himself. I got the feeling he would only be back if my life were in danger.
"Will you
accept Mr. Hyde's attentions if he comes courting?" Celia asked frankly.
Perhaps Jacob
was right and being courted by another man at his urging would mean he could
move on. It was worth trying, and flirting with Theo wouldn't be a hardship. I
did like him. A lot. And while my feelings for him did not match those I had
for Jacob, perhaps I could one day love him enough to be happy.
"Yes,"
I said. "I will."
THE
END
A
message from the author:
I hope you enjoyed reading POSSESSION as
much as I enjoyed writing it. As an independent author, getting the word out
about my book is vital to its success, so if you liked this book please
consider telling your friends, lending or sharing it, and writing a review at
the store where you purchased it. If you would like to be contacted when I
release EVERMORE (the next book in The Emily Chambers Spirit Medium trilogy)
please send an email to
[email protected]
and I will add you to my New Releases list. You will only be contacted when I
have a new book out.
Books
for teens by C.J. Archer:
The
Medium (Emily Chambers Spirit Medium #1)
Possession
(Emily Chambers Spirit Medium #2)
Evermore
(Emily Chambers Spirit Medium #3) - coming soon
Other
books for adults by C.J. Archer:
Her
Secret Desire (Lord Hawkesbury's Players #1)
Scandal's
Mistress (Lord Hawkesbury's Players #2)
To
Tempt The Devil (Lord Hawkesbury's Players #3)
Honor
Bound (The Witchblade Chronicles Book #1)
Kiss
Of Ash (The Witchblade Chronicles #2)
How To
Contact C.J. Archer:
Blog/web:
http://cjarcher.com
Email:
[email protected]
Twitter:
www.twitter.com/cj_archer
Facebook:
http://www.facebook.com/CJArcherAuthorPage
Goodreads:
www.goodreads.com/user/show/4874696
***Read on for an excerpt of
Her
Secret Desire
, a historical romance for readers over the age of 18***
HER
SECRET DESIRE
(A Novel of Lord Hawkesbury's Players)
CHAPTER 1
London: Autumn 1589
Min had become
accustomed to rejection, the feeling of a little piece of her heart being
stripped off and cast to the city’s rats. After all, she’d been rejected by
every theatre company manager in London, sometimes more than once.
Now she stood
face to face with the man capable of cutting her heart out completely. It was
enough to make her stomach heave.
"Not you
again." Roger Style stopped midstride and thrust both hands on hips
exaggerated by his fashionably short trunkhose. He glanced up and down the
street and must have realized he had nowhere else to go except past Min.
Disgruntled theatre-goers, leaving the White Swan Inn after suffering through
his latest play, surged down the narrow thoroughfare and around him as if he
were an island in the middle of a rapidly flowing stream. The irony was, they
had no idea that he was the man responsible for the farce they’d paid good
money to see.
However, the
crowd wasn’t so large that the buffeting would last long. Min had to take her
chance while Style could not escape. If she didn’t, there would be no more
opportunities. London’s other theatre managers had already turned her down
twice. Style was her last hope. The very last. None would listen to her pleas a
third time.
Drawing in a
solid dose of courage along with a deep breath, she planted her booted feet on
the muddy ground and held up her manuscript. "Mr. Style, I’m simply asking
that you read it. Just one little, quick read—"
"No."
Style took a step closer. He was short, only a little taller than Min herself,
but he had presence borne from years of acting in leading roles. It was an
advantage he knew how to use.
Min refused to
be intimidated. Again. She’d backed down from Style once already. She’d been
very close to throwing her manuscript in the fireplace afterwards, but sense
had thankfully returned in time to save it from oblivion. She couldn’t afford
to give up this time, not unless she wanted to find herself wed to Ned Taylor.
"I would be
doing you an injustice, my dear, to read the play you thrust beneath my
nose," Style said. He linked his hands behind his back and squared his
shoulders. "Due to the smallness of their brains, women cannot write
plays. Alas, it is not of my doing, but God’s." He indeed seemed quite
apologetic on the Lord’s behalf. "It is His will that the gentler sex be
given the gifts of beauty and…" He waved his gloved hands just like the
wise old wizard he’d played on stage the month before in a rather forgettable
play. "…other things. Reading it would simply encourage you to write more.
In that endeavor, your poor brain would not be able to cope with so much
activity and, in short, it might expire. Nay! It would expire. I cannot have
that on my conscience." He smiled down at her the way a master smiles down
at his favorite puppy after it has pissed on the rushes.