An Unlikely Match (15 page)

Gwen knew she ought not to have lost her temper so entirely. In her defense, she’d had a very long, trying night. And Mr. Castleton was barely tolerable under the best of circumstances.

Every room in the old wing of the house would have to be put to rights. Her spurt of temper had sent a wind of tornadic proportions down the corridor, blowing open doors and wreaking havoc in all of the chambers. Instead of running in panic, Mr. Castleton had simply stared all the more pointedly and whispered an awe-filled “Fascinating.”

Only when the butler, housekeeper, most of the chambermaids, and two footmen had come into the room searching for the source of the disturbance had she been able to rid herself of him.

“Remove this man from my room, or this very house will fall down around you.”

As always, they took her threat seriously. She would never actually level Tŷ Mynydd. Although, heaven knew, she’d tried to do precisely that to The Tower, only to discover that the protection she offered her ancestral estate applied very pointedly to that most hated part of it. It simply couldn’t be brought down. Neither wind, nor hammers, nor workmen could pry a single stone from its walls, let alone bring it crashing to the ground as ought to be done.

“What mischief is this, Gwen?” Nickolas unexpectedly appeared from the doorway behind her.

Gwen spun around to face him. His presence made her breath catch in her chest, despite the fact that she did not actually breathe.

“Was it your intention to give the staff extra work with this fit of yours?”

Any hopes of empathy and understanding from the man she had given up her very peace of mind to protect the night before disappeared with those words. Only a monumental effort prevented her from knocking him literally off his feet with a repeat performance of her earlier indoor whirlwind.

“At least you have managed not to tie your bed curtains in knots.” Nickolas crossed to her bed and fingered the perfectly hanging curtains.

“
He
was in my room,” Gwen said between clenched teeth.

“
He
?” A twinkle of amusement lit Nickolas’s eyes.

He thought this funny, did he? Found her suffering entertaining? He certainly wasn’t the first over the centuries, but it was somehow harder coming from him.

“I told you my room was to be empty. I told you it was
mine.
Mine!” Despite her intentions, a stiff breeze picked up again.

“Do you plan to tell me who it was that invaded your bedchamber, Miss Gwen, or shall I simply have every male in the household drawn and quartered?” He produced that smile she knew meant he was joking with her. She was determined not to be amused.

“Mr. Castleton.”

“Ah.” A look of sympathy passed over his smiling countenance, and Gwen felt the tiniest bit better. “He invaded your sanctuary?”

What little comfort he’d given her a moment earlier vanished at his tone. “There is no need to mock me, Nickolas Pritchard. All I have asked of you is this room. That is all I have ever asked of anyone.” Her voice rose with each word, her emotions coming painfully to the surface. She turned away from him, willing herself to remain in control. “Everything else has been taken away from me. Everything! And you mock me for clinging to this tiny comfort.”

“Oh, Gwen.” His voice grew suddenly gentle. She felt her defenses begin to crumble. “I did not intend to mock you. I have often been told I have an atrocious sense of timing when it comes to teasing remarks.”

“In my day, a jester could have his head cut off for ‘bad timing.’”

A smile lurked in Nickolas’s eyes. “That is a very good way to run out of jesters.”

“And heads,” Gwen added.

He chuckled, and the sound warmed her. He had a way of calming and soothing her, even in moments of distress. She’d never known anyone quite like him.

“I don’t think I would have enjoyed being a jester under those conditions,” Nickolas said.

“You certainly would have been motivated to practice your teasing more.”

“And I begin to think you are in need of practice at
being
teased, Gwen.” He sat on the edge of her bed.

“Most everyone is afraid of me.” She shrugged. “I suppose it is hard to tease someone who frightens one half to death.”

“Perhaps they fear for their heads.” He grinned at her.

Gwen hovered closer to him, feeling tired. Weariness was the worst of the
feelings
she had to endure. Ghosts, she had discovered early on, could grow weary but could not sleep. Rest was the closest she came. The previous night had been anything but restful.

“Did anyone tease you before you became a fearsome specter?”

“My father was not really a teasing sort of gentleman.”

Nickolas leaned back against one of the posters of her bed, turned so he faced her full on. “Neither was my father.”

“I find that hard to believe.” Gwen pulled her legs up, hovering in the same cozy position she’d favored as a young girl. “If you did not inherit your sense of the ridiculous from your father, then where did it come from?”

“From my grandfather, according to the stories I have heard.” Nickolas’s expression grew unmistakably nostalgic. It was a side of his personality she had not yet witnessed. “I have few memories of my mother, but I do remember that she liked to tease and smile and laugh.”

Gwen knew well the look that passed through his eyes. “You miss her.”

He nodded. “Almost twenty years have passed since she died, and I still miss her every day.”

Empathy surged through her at the familiar pain in his voice. “My mother died over four hundred years ago,” she said, “and I have never stopped missing her.”

“Then she was already gone when you . . .” The sentence dangled unfinished, but she knew what he meant.

“Mother died when I was twelve. Things might have ended differently if she’d still been alive.” Gwen had often told herself as much, though she had never been certain. Mother’s influence on Father had not been enormous, but she might have softened him.

“What was your mother like?” Nickolas asked. “I find myself picturing her a great deal like you, with red hair and just enough fire in her eyes to make a man think twice about crossing her and, yet, undeniably gentle and softhearted.”

His words touched her deeply. “That is very kind of you.”

He smiled—how she loved that smile! “I hope you noticed that I was not teasing in the least.”

“You really think those things about me?”

“How could I not?”

“You are an unusual sort of gentleman, Nickolas Pritchard.” She shook her head in amused surprise. “One would think you thought of me as a real person.”

He actually looked confused. “But you
are
real.”

A tiny laugh escaped, surprising even her. She never laughed. “Would Mr. Castleton stare at me day in and day out if I were
real
?”

He shrugged. “Mr. Castleton is
also
a rather unusual sort of gentleman.”

Another unexpected laugh followed that observation. “I will not argue with you on that point.”

“Gads, you’re beautiful when you smile like that.” Even Nickolas looked a little surprised at his blurted observation.

Feeling a little uncomfortable, Gwen rose and floated away from the bed. No one had ever paid her such a compliment, in life or in death. After a moment’s silence between them, Nickolas followed her to the window.

“Is having your room undisturbed important to you, Gwen?”

“I know I am unusually insistent about it, but this has been my sanctuary for four centuries.” His sincere expression gave her the courage to continue. “I need it, Nickolas. I need a place where I can be still and undisturbed and . . . peaceful.”

He smiled empathetically. “I will ask Mr. Castleton not to return, but I cannot guarantee he will acquiesce. He seems to have developed something of an obsession.”

“I know.” Gwen sighed. “He has the most disconcerting habit of staring whenever I am nearby.”

“Strange,” Nickolas said. Gwen recognized his teasing tone, and it made her feel a little less burdened. “One would think that encountering a ghost was not an everyday occurrence.”

She fought back a smile. “It
is
an everyday occurrence for me.”

Nickolas laughed, just as she knew he would. “Touché.”

Many years had passed since she’d lived with someone who made her smile, whose company she enjoyed more often than not. “How do you propose I keep him from staring at me?” Gwen asked, knowing Nickolas would come up with a diverting response.

He made a noise of deep thought and rubbed his chin. “Could you frighten him enough to send him scurrying away every time you come into a room? I understand you are quite good at terrifying people.”

“I have tried,” Gwen answered dryly. “He finds it ‘fascinating.’”

Nickolas shrugged. “They do say love is blind.”

Gwen laughed. How she’d missed laughing over the centuries since Padrig had left. He was the last who regularly pulled a chuckle from her. Yet even his company had not been as pleasant as Nickolas’s. “The last thing I want is Mr. Castleton to be nursing a
tendre
for my ghostliness.”

“Your
ghostliness.
” Nickolas laughed all the harder. “You are a treat, Gwen. A treat.” Nickolas made to take hold of her hand, seeming to realize the futility of the gesture only after his fingers slipped entirely through hers.

Frustration like she hadn’t known since her lifetime slipped over Gwen. Why must she forever be denied the comforting reassurance of a simple touch? She needed it, especially after the night she had spent.

Thoughts of The Tower overtook her mind. She would gladly have endured Mr. Castleton’s unnerving stares if it meant she—and Nickolas, at that—could have avoided the night spent in The Tower.

“I am sorry, Gwen. I—”

Gwen just shook her head. “Your wager was only for one night, wasn’t it?” She was probably rude for cutting him off, but she needed to know he wouldn’t go back. She hated the thought of returning but would not leave him there to endure The Tower alone.

“It was.”

Silence hung between them. Gwen attempted to force all thoughts of the night before from her mind, tried to keep herself from reliving the memories that had been forced upon her as she’d sat there hour after hour in a place she utterly abhorred.

“It is a horrible place,” Gwen whispered.

“I am beginning to understand that,” he answered quietly. “Which makes me wonder all the more why you stayed there last night. As I told you, you didn’t have to.”

She’d stayed because she couldn’t bear the thought of him in such an evil place. She’d worried that he’d try to go up the stairs again and something horrible would happen. She had wanted to protect him, as she did the house and yet,
not at all
as she did the house. Just being near him as he slept had afforded an unexpected amount of satisfaction and pleasure. Her fingers had itched almost unbearably to reach out and touch him.

“I have a feeling, Gwen, that you stayed there for my sake.” Nickolas smiled at her, not the laughing, teasing smile she saw so often but a compassionate, understanding, comforting smile. “And I thank you for that.”

“You’re welcome.”

“And thank you for not strangling Mr. Castleton.” The twinkle returned to his eyes. “Tempting as I am sure it is. That would certainly put a damper on my first house party.”

“I will attempt to restrain myself.” Gwen smiled in reply.

“And I will attempt to restrain Mr. Castleton. I think his family would be distraught if he met an untimely end.”

“Most families would be.” She fought down the reminder that
not all
families mourned the death of a family member. The Castletons did not seem that heartless. “Miss Castleton appears to be a kindhearted young lady.”

“She is.” Something about the tone of his response made Gwen bristle. “Miss Castleton is universally admired.”

Gwen looked more closely at him and instantly wished she hadn’t. A certain amount of interest showed in his expression as he spoke about Miss Castleton.