Chaste Kiss (11 page)

Isabel found William among the bushes on the far side of the garden, away from the house. He was in his solid form, twirling a sprig of azalea blossoms between his fingers as he stared off into space with a familiar crease in his brow.

Quietly, she stole up next to him, but not too close. She didn't want to startle him and cause them to collide.

"Penny for your thoughts,” she said.

He quickly stepped to the side, taking a deep breath. His initial surprise at her presence blended into a warm smile. Her heart sped up, something it didn't do when Detective Wise looked at her. It, whatever it was, wasn't there with Mick, but it was there with William.

"I was thinking about you, poppet."

Was he intentionally trying to put some emotional distance between them by reverting to his old nickname for her? Had he guessed how she felt, how much she wanted him?

Determined to ignore it, she asked, “What about me?"

"I was thinking of your talk with the detective."

She turned to stroll along the walk between the blooming bushes. “And?"

He leisurely walked beside her. “I think he asks a great many questions of which he already possesses the answers."

She nodded and continued walking, enjoying simply being with him. It would have to be enough.

"I also believe he would like to—date you. Is this the correct term?” he asked.

"Yes, that's the right word."

"I apologize for my earlier words. I think ‘twould be good for you to spend time with him,” he said.

Disappointment fell over her like a heavy cloud. She certainly had an imagination. William hadn't been jealous, just overly protective. If he were, he wouldn't want her seeing other men. Even though it was realistic and for the best, it still hurt.

"I have said something to upset you,” he said with a frown.

Isabel studied her feet as she kicked at the pebbles, not wanting to admit the truth. He was obviously content with their relationship as it stood, which made total sense, but it just seemed so natural to be with him. She simply couldn't imagine feeling this right with anyone else.

Oh sure, touching would be nice, very nice, but—she stopped her insane mental ramblings. He was a ghost. A very handsome ghost, and she was just plain old Isabel. Bouncing off the windshield must have scrambled her brains. Even if he could touch her, why would he want to?

"Isabel?"

"I was just thinking.” She let out a nervous laugh, amazed she was about to spill the truth. Well, that's what friends did. They told one another things, confided in each other. “I'm not interested in Detective Wise. He's nice and all, but he's not for me."

"I must admit, I was not overly pleased with him, but I no little of courting these days. Do you not think he will request your company?"

Isbel sighed. She might as well tell him. At least then she could have the let's-just-be-friends speech over and done with.

Sucking in a breath, she looked up into his deep blue gaze. “I don't want his company. I want yours, and nobody else's.” There. Direct and to the point, but the stunned look on his face threw a jolt of fear into her. He wouldn't disappear on her, would he? “William?"

His features softened. “And I yours.” He stroked her cheek with the tiny sprig of blossoms.

Her breath caught in her throat. Clenching her eyes closed, she imagined the feather like caress to be his long slender fingers.

"We are more than friends, you and I,” he said. “But naught can come of it."

She opened her eyes and was stunned by what she saw. The same need, the same desire flooding her senses burned in the deep blue depths of his eyes. It couldn't be possible? “You really—you want—” Her voice quivered faintly.

"I am sorry, sweeting. I should not speak of such things."

"No, I'm just stunned that you would—I mean, I'm just—me. Plain old Isabel,” she said with a shrug.

William's brow creased deeply. “You are more than a man could wish for. With emerald eyes that sparkle when you laugh, burgundy tresses, no doubt, as soft as an angel's wing, and curves that would tempt a saint. I could not help but want you, ache to touch you. You will never know how much I wish to inhale your soft fragrance, feel your warm body pressed against mine, and taste the sweetness I know is you."

He brushed the petals across her trembling lips, and her body quaked with need. She wanted to jump with joy, she wanted to yell from the rooftops, she wanted to—die.

"There has to be a way,” she whispered, barely finding the breath to say the words.

He drew the flowers away from her face. “Hold out your hand."

Isabel did as he instructed, curious as to what he intended. He reached behind his head and tugged at the leather tie binding his hair. The midnight strands fell forward, brushing the upturned collar of his shirt.

Gorgeous
. She swallowed hard at the mental image of his long lean body pressed against hers in a heated moment of pure rapture, her fingers entangled in his hair.

He carefully placed the strip of leather in her upturned palm, driving the image of their lovemaking from her mind, but only for the moment. She would return to it later in the privacy of her dreams.

Lowering her eyes, she studied the strap, touching it reverently. “I feel it. I feel the leather. It—what's happening?"

"'Tis fading. As I would do if I were to touch you."

"It isn't fair,” she whispered tremulously.

"Nay, sweeting. ‘Tis not. But ‘tis how it will always be. Oh, sweet Isabel. You should leave this place. Go far away from me and find a man who can hold you. A man who can love you.” His jaw clenched. “And one you can love in return.” He stepped back and glanced toward the house. “I must leave you."

"Please, don't go."

William reached out, stopping inches from her cheek. “I am sorry, love, but the chamber bed summons me.” Slowly, he faded away.

Isabel clenched her now empty hand, the truth more bitter, more painful than she had ever imagined. She could never have him. They could never be together the way a man and woman were meant to be. She had to stop fantasizing about him. The images were too powerful and would eventually tear her apart.

Oh no, had she fallen in love with him? It would be so easy. He was everything she ever wanted in a man, and he wanted her, but he wasn't a man. He was a ghost with a powerful curse on him. She had to try and give him his freedom, if nothing else.

Isabel spent a scant few minutes in the garden regaining control over her emotions and focusing on the positive before making her way upstairs. Plastering a smile on her face, she entered the room and glanced around for William.

"Come out, come out wherever you are,” she trilled, remembering their games of hide-and-go-seek when she was little.

"I am here, Isabel.” He appeared seated in one of the chairs next to the small table with the chessboard atop it. His long fingers toyed with one of the playing pieces, his mind obviously somewhere else.

She was a little disappointed he wasn't lounging on the bed, even though it was almost impossible to concentrate when he looked so—edible. Not to mention it only served to remind her of the things that couldn't be. Things she was supposed to be forgetting.

She turned her thoughts back to what her uncle had told her about the secret compartment and climbed onto the bed. “I forgot to tell you what I found out after you left the kitchen. Uncle Jerome said there's a hidden compartment in the headboard.” She carefully ran her hands over the leaf design. “He said if I pull right here—” There was an audible click. “It would open."

The small door swung away from the elaborately carved bed. She turned her head to see William's reaction. He watched her with vague interest and stepped up beside the bed. They both peered into the dark cavity, finding it empty.

"Interesting,” he said.

She shook her head at his ignorance. “Don't you get it? We could take the door off its hinges and see if you can go where it goes.” She searched the edge of the carved wood for a way to remove the door without doing any damage.

He sighed. “I do not think this will work."

"It won't hurt to try. I can slip these little wooden dowels out without marking up the piece. Where's my fingernail file?"

Jumping off the bed, she rifled through the drawer of the nightstand. “This should do it."

Hopping back onto the bed, she deftly supported the little door as she pressed firmly on the wooden pins holding it in place. The first one dropped to the bed, then the second, and the third. The door came away silently into her hands.

"Now, to test it,” she said with a broad smile. “How much longer are you stuck here?"

"I cannot leave this room ‘till the sun has completely set."

"Okay. Here's what I'm going to do. I'm going to take the panel and go into the east wing to the Regency bedroom. How long do you think it will take?"

"I should feel the pull within moments, but I do not believe I will, Isabel. I fear you are wishing for something that cannot be."

"Stop being such a pessimist.” She hurried out of the room, clutching the panel to her chest.

In a matter of moments, Isabel stood in the Regency bedroom with its blood red tones surrounding her. It wasn't one of her favorite rooms. She always felt like a vampire was going to come in through the window as a bat and take a hefty bite of her neck.

Quickly shoving aside her wayward imagination, she concentrated on the cool wood in her hands. Her hopes fell farther with each beat of her heart. After five minutes of standing in the shadow filled room, she knew William wasn't coming. The bed still held him captive. She had wanted to help him so badly. To give him the freedom to roam wherever he wanted. That would have been some consolation to his suffering.

Slowly, with a heavy heart, she made her way back to him and quietly entered her room.

"I am sorry, sweeting."

With a sigh, she began the task of replacing the panel. “I thought for sure it would work."

Holding back her tears of regret, she tapped the small dowels into place. Upon the final tap, she heard a thunk.

"What is it?” he asked.

Her eyes were wide as she stared into the compartment. “I don't believe it."

Something wrapped in a linen cloth lay at the bottom of the cubby. Isabel tentatively reached in and gently removed the item. Pausing, she peered up into the compartment. “There's another secret compartment. The top is false. The vibration of tapping the hinges in must have caused it to open."

"One would think the way you used to bounce upon this bed, ‘twould have caused it to drop ages ago."

Chuckling, she said, “I'm sure I wasn't the only one to jump on this bed. But it looks like when the cabinet is closed, it helps to support the other panel."

She turned her attention back to the linen in her hand. “It's very old. The cloth feels as though it might disintegrate."

Slowly moving to the table, she placed the ancient object in the center of the chessboard. She quickly moved the chess pieces out of the way and carefully unwrapped the cloth.

William sucked in a sharp breath as the item was revealed. ‘Twas the very knife that had ended his life.

"It's beautiful.” She reached for the jeweled handle.

"Do not touch it!"

She jumped back, clutching her hand to her chest. “Why? What's the matter?"

"'Tis evil.” William could not move his gaze from the horrid blade.

"You're scaring me, William."

He expelled a deep breath. “I am sorry, sweeting. ‘Tis the knife the old hag ran through my heart so many years ago."

Isabel turned her gaze back to the table. “No wonder it looks familiar. It's the same one you created when you scared Chad off. God, I hadn't realized.” She visibly shuddered.

He deeply regretted showing her his death. If only he could pull her into his arms and whisper soothing words into her ear.

Isabel turned and looked at him, a new sparkle glinting in her eyes. What was she scheming now?

"Is there still time to test my theory?” She grinned impishly.

"What are you about, Isabel?” The woman never ceased to amaze him. Her moods changed faster than the direction of the wind. Not a moment ago she was nearly in tears, and now her eyes shone brighter than the sun.

"Don't you see? You're drawn to the dagger. That has to be it! Can you hold things indefinitely or would it tire you out? No, wait. We'll test it with me holding it. I'll go to the Regency bedroom again.” She quickly wrapped the dagger and ran from the room.

"Wait!” He paled at the thought of the evil surrounding the knife harming his sweet Isabel.

Suddenly, an overwhelming power wrapped around him. “No, it cannot be."

Without warning, he appeared before her in the Regency bedroom. The look of glee on her face nearly caused him to take hold of her and kiss her soundly. Then again every look on her face had him wanting to kiss her soundly. Even when he was angry with her, as he was at that moment.

"It worked! I was right! I was right!” She bounced giddily on the balls of her feet like a child.

"Do not ever do that again,” he said through clenched teeth.

Her bouncing ceased as she placed one hand firmly on her hip with a smirk. “What are you so mad about?"

"The dagger holds naught but evil. Take it back to its hiding place and ne'er touch it again. Take it back, I say!"

Clenching her fists, she gripped the dagger tighter. “You stubborn—codpiece!"

William pressed closer, towering over her slight form. “A lady does not use such words."

"You are the most—"

Stepping back with a slash of his hand through the air, he promptly cut off her tirade. “My time has ended. Take the dagger back to its hole.” He vanished, leaving her to mull over his words.

William prayed she would do as he demanded. Her safety was far more important than his freedom. He would not risk causing her harm. The old hag had cast a strong spell, and he knew naught but evil would come to anyone who possessed the dagger.

Isabel stormed back into her room and laid the dagger on the table. William watched her invisibly for a few moments as she grumbled beneath her breath and called him a great many more names he sorely wished she would not use.