The Ghost Who Loved Me (17 page)

Jane grew thoughtful at his sudden silence. “I didn’t plan this, whatever you might think of it, Anthony. I know you think I threw myself at you for a purpose, but only because I knew we belonged together. I felt you needed convincing.”

“There is no need to explain yourself now, my dear,” Anthony offered solicitously while doubting every word she said. “We are quite caught. No further need for regret.”

  “No! I’ll not marry you under this illusion!” Jane drew herself up and glared at him hotly. “I’ll not let you blame me every day that I trapped you in this! That you had no choice when you helped me with my buttons! That I kept you from your precious Elizabeth!”

Anthony looked to her in surprise, cursing his meddling mother under his breath. “Whatever you might have heard of that, you know nothing at all. Lady Westerleigh was a dear friend—”

“Do shut up, Anthony!” Jane cut him off crossly, her lovely face filled with anger. “We both know what Lady Westerleigh was to you. I’m hardly stupid, or some child to be forever coddled from the truth. You need not lie of it. Your mother hinted at a romantic relationship. I assumed the rest of it on my own.”

Anthony bit back angry words. “The Duchess of Westerleigh was and is quite dear to me, Jane. But for the fact she is married, we would not be sitting here right now talking about our wedding. I won’t deny that Elizabeth broke it off with me. She did so for my own good. You have no quarrel with her. And as for my feelings, she didn’t return them. We will leave it at that. I’ll not discuss her with you again.”

Jane appeared to brighten at his angry explanation, her gloved hand reaching for his. “Then it is her loss, is it not? I have never felt such hesitation with you, Anthony. From the first moment we met, I knew you were the man I would marry. I needed only to convince you of it.”

Anthony smiled, but his green eyes grew colder to think this was what he saddled himself to out of stupidity. “I think you know me better than I know myself, my dear. But we can both agree we need to give some plausible explanation while we must wed so quickly without alerting your parents it is of a necessity now?”

“I shall tell them I love you quite madly and cannot wait another day to be your wife,” Jane offered quietly and raised her chin a subtle notch. “It shan’t be a lie.”

Anthony was thinking of other less dramatic expressions when dealing with Augustus. The man was no fool and likely had him investigated after he began courting Jane so quickly.

Despite his father being a Viscount, Anthony hadn’t a farthing to his name despite the monies he already invested with Augustus. He must tread carefully here or his rich plumed bird from America would fly away as well.

Thoughts of his future in Boston cheered him more than the chattering young woman at his side. The coming of a child depressed him as well, but matters in London became complicated of late. His reception at certain recent social events became cooler, eyes following him speculatively.

He began to question the chilliness of his hostesses at once, all noble ladies known intimately by him in the past. It all started after Elizabeth was sent away. They obviously blamed him for it. It began with merely a questioning look in his direction.

Now the invitations to society functions became fewer. Whatever doubts in their mind he was the cause of Elizabeth’s present woes seemed to be reflected in his fleeting popularity.

He reasoned it high time he left here. Boston was as good a place as any to start over. And start over he would. His only consolation was that Elizabeth would pay dearly for her deflection. He learned a physician in London was travelling to Westerleigh to assess Lady Westerleigh’s mental condition.

Anthony knew very well the duke was trying to have her declared mad to lock her away, if only to cover his own abominable behavior. He tried to not feel too badly for her, knowing she brought all on herself by remaining with Edward.

~ ~ ~

“The coach has arrived,” James informed her as he lay on his side floating next to her while she dozed. “Are you going to get up and deal with the man?”

Elizabeth opened one eye, regarding him in annoyance. “To meet the man at the door is simply more desperation than I can summon right now. Mrs. Gates will show him to his room. I will go down to dinner and allow the man to dissect me, and not a moment sooner.”

James grinned at her peevish response. “My, we are in a foul mood today, Your Ladyship. After the rousing hours we spent up here in your bed, you should have a far sweeter temperament, I should think.”

“Oh, do you think so?” Elizabeth smiled lazily as she reached out to touch his ghostly cheek, her hand sliding through him. “Perhaps I have need of more of those rousing hours in this bed to improve myself?”

“Anymore of that today and you will offend the good doctor with your obvious avoidance of him,” James reminded her with a tender smile. “I’m leaving the castle to stay at the lodge until he leaves.”

Elizabeth frowned and sat up, the sheet falling away from her nudity. She was unashamed as she flounced naked from the bed, her tangled sable hair swirling about her lush backside.

“You don’t have to leave! I won’t let on to anyone that you’re here! I know how to act, for pity’s sake!”

James eyed her doubtfully, his silver eyes meeting hers with mockery gleaming in them. “We both know you would only lose your temper, my dear. Especially when he asks about these dreadful lapses of yours, all the time you spend abed these days. Don’t think the servants won’t undermine you there. While he is here, you must at least appear to have some interests outside this room.”

Elizabeth smiled like a cat in the cream crock, her eyes sparkling with deviltry. “Whatever shall I do with my time? I’m a dreadful bore at amusing myself.”

“I don’t think you could be a dreadful bore at anything,” James argued back with an indulgent smile. “You must get outside of this room, ride the grounds, take long walks to the village, and read as you once did. Forget that I’m here for a time, Elizabeth. Listen to me for once. I don’t know Edward as well as you, but I know he uses this for his own purpose. The last thing you must do is give this doctor any reason to think these accusations have merit. You start with looking the part. You must ring for Annie and have her see to your bath and dress you for dinner.”

  “I have met some of these psychiatrists in London, James. They are all charlatans who think their crude methods truly help people,” Elizabeth breathed softly, a hint of worry in her eyes. “I have seen firsthand how they treat those unfortunate souls under their care. He will see me as mad simply because Edward wishes him to see it. All I can do is play along and hope he has a bit of a conscience.”

James regarded her grimly. “Have no worry of this doctor, Elizabeth. He can’t harm you. Worry what I will do to Edward when he arrives in the spring.”

Elizabeth swallowed hard at the menace growing in his silver eyes. “You must promise me, you won’t harm him, James. I will refuse to do as he asks! He has no power to force me to that! We have been over this many times. You must do nothing to him when he comes.”

“I will not promise you that if he seeks to push this matter, Elizabeth.” James refused to agree to anything, making her aware of how much danger her husband was in if he came here making more threats.

Before she could reply James was gone, having the last word as was his habit. She glared into the thin air, grumbling under her breath about the rudeness of ghosts, hearing him laughing from somewhere beyond her room.

Elizabeth rang for Annie and decided the best course was to deal with this doctor head on. She would only risk his speculation if she avoided him. James was right in regard to that. Instead of behaving like a moonstruck newlywed she had to act like mistress of this castle.

Elizabeth smiled as she thought of her previous comparison, likening her and James to a married couple. The thought grew more pervasive these days, her days and nights beginning and ending with him. They spent the days together, talking and laughing, and she felt she knew him better than she knew herself at times.

The man had an annoying habit of knowing her thoughts before she even spoke. He had a nurturing side as well, seen in how he forced her to eat despite her lack of appetite. He forced her to remember she was human at times, reminding her they were worlds apart.

James could be maddening and unyielding as her brother in his harsh judgments on many matters and subjects they debated. She argued vehemently with him, but the anger soon turned to desire, melting under his haunting silver stare.

Elizabeth could think of nothing but him of late. Her worry she was going mad was a very real concern when she considered she was having a heated love affair with a ghost. A sad look entered her gaze to think of James achieving his final rest.

If anyone deserved peace, it was James. While she would never seek to deprive him of that long-awaited goal, a part of her longed for him to stay with her, just a little while longer.

Dr. Phineas Schlossberg was a leading physician of psychiatry. He was deemed an expert in his present field of study. He was well-regarded at London Memorial Hospital where he was the chief of psychiatry. Elizabeth thought his perception of the human psyche no more gifted than her own.

Phineas wrote many books on mental health issues and was considered the only hope for those suffering from diseases of the mind. Elizabeth gave silent thanks she wasn’t in need of his services, finding him grossly incompetent.

Elizabeth also knew him to be a pompous ass from all of the hospital board members. She disliked him the minute they sat to dine that evening. He was nearly fifty with graying hair, a hefty paunch around his middle, hardly disguised in his tight dark evening suit. He had an air of self-importance she found annoying, her teeth on edge as he touted off his list of achievements to her.

He also had a habit of staring in an unblinking manner at her, which she found unnerving to say the least. It was as if he was already sizing her up and evaluating her. She reached for her wine more times than she cared to admit during the meal, managing idle conversation as the many courses were served.

They talked of mutual acquaintances she knew from her charity work with the mental hospital’s directors. It didn’t surprise her to learn Dr. Schlossberg was angling for a seat on the board. He hinted at it very unsubtly several times during the meal; so much so, she knew right away the only means to get him on her side.

“Lady Grantham recently mentioned to me a great need for a physician on the board, Dr. Schlossberg. I would be happy to write to her for a recommendation to consider you. That is, if you would be interested? I know how busy you must be with your work.”

The man albeit beamed at her words. “Your Grace, that is very kind of you to offer, but I couldn’t possibly accept under the circumstances.”

“What circumstances are those, sir? I see no conflict of interest. You have impressed me with your kind regard for the mentally ill and your desire to further studies in human behavior. I see that as only positive for the board. I know them all personally. They value my opinions. It would be no trouble to mention your name.”

“What I meant was that my being here is hardly social in nature but of a professional reason, Your Grace. That alone would appear to be somewhat a conflict in gaining your patronage. Your husband mentioned certain things during our interview in London.”

Elizabeth’s smile remained affixed in place. “Ah yes, that. Well, I can explain it all to you if you would allow me? It was silly of me, really. I recently discovered my eyesight is failing me and didn’t address it. During the course of inspecting the west wing, I saw a suit of men’s clothing hanging in the wardrobe and mistook it for an intruder. I overreacted, as you can imagine? I’m sure you have heard the absurd tales of the castle being haunted? I overreacted after listening to the tales. Silly of me, really.”

“And you panicked as a result of that? You say your eyes are failing you?” Phineas wiped his mouth with his cloth napkin, pursing his lips thoughtfully. “And what of your demanding the east tower opened after repeatedly being told it was unsafe? The butler felt compelled to write to your husband, claiming you often talk to yourself or someone else when no one is about.”

Elizabeth shrugged at his questioning look. “Don’t you tend to utter your thoughts aloud to find more clarity, sir? If I thought the servants here had the slightest intelligence to answer such questions, I might have asked them. Alas, most are hardly as educated as you or I. And as for the east tower, I will take you up there to inspect it after dinner. You will see it is quite sound. It isn’t unsafe in the least. I desired the space to make some changes of my own here. The servants again fought me on this and usurped my authority. It has been nothing but a struggle since my arrival.”

The man appeared thoughtful at her imperious words. “And did you not write to your husband and tell him of this blatant insolence?”

“I fear Edward’s kindness was seen as weakness in this matter,” Elizabeth went on with an exaggerated sigh. “Recently he informed Mr. Pettigrew that the castle is to be closed. The servants all realized they would be dismissed. They have gone out of their way to show their displeasure by taking such out on me.”

“I see. I had no idea of any of this, Your Grace,” the man said and nodded during her explanation. “That explains why the butler said such things about you. But why would they seek to blame you for them losing their positions? You have little say in any of it.”

Elizabeth laughed lightly and leaned forward, lowering her voice conspiratorially. “My maid Annie overheard them talking of it weeks ago. They believe if Edward thinks I’m going mad, he’ll simply keep me here. The castle will remain open indefinitely. It’s really quite sad how they attempt to hang on as they have. My husband has paid their wages for years and never comes here. I think we can both agree his intention to close the castle the cause of all of this.”

“Yes, it appears some misunderstanding has occurred,” Phineas agreed reasonably and nodded with a frown between his eyes. “I cannot in all conscience leave here without a thorough examination of you to satisfy His Grace all was simply as you say, my lady.”

“Of course, I’ll comply with whatever it is you deem necessary for your report to His Lordship, sir.”

Elizabeth wished to drive her soup spoon through the man’s eyes as he gluttonously finished his meal, having more wine than any man in his profession imbibed with any real prudence. He drank more than he ate, and he ate quite a lot.

A devious light entered her eyes as she noticed his weakness for drink, his only obvious failing that she could find. She thought a ready bottle placed here and there in his suite of rooms would keep him out of her way during his stay.

The evening wore on. It was a dull affair, with her struggling to remain awake during Dr. Schlossberg’s lengthy subjecting her to his vast well of knowledge, of which in his view, had no apparent bottom.

Elizabeth blinked forcibly to keep from nodding off as he went on and on, his glass never going empty of the spirits he swilled like water. She thought if she wasn’t going mad before he arrived, a few more days of being in his obnoxious company would reduce her to a raving lunatic.

Finally, she had the excuse to take him to the east tower to inspect it for his own judgment. The man was satisfied she endangered no one with demanding the room be opened. She left him to retire for the night.

She was sure Phineas wouldn’t stray far from the liquor bottles on the sideboard. She went up to her room and allowed Annie to help her out of her gown. The maid grew quiet lately, looking at her strangely more and more. Finally, the girl found her tongue.

“I heard you talking to yourself in here earlier, Your Ladyship,” Annie began softly as she helped her on with her nightdress. “I know you think you see someone. You think you hear him too?”

“Say his name, Annie,” Elizabeth replied tightly and shook her head. “It is James! Yes, the very same James Carlisle who died here three hundred years ago. I know you find it impossible to believe me, but he means us all no harm.”

Annie bit her lip indecisively, her face filled with fear and skepticism. “And what of what I hear in the night, my lady? I hear those sounds too.”

Elizabeth blushed and looked away from her maid’s terror-filled gaze. “That is none of your affair, or anyone else’s. Leave it alone! I don’t need you to tell me how impossible this is. Compared to my situation with Mr. Wakefield, this is truly and utterly impossible.”

Annie sighed sadly. “What I worry over is how ye seem so wrapped up in him. Ye don’t care about anything else anymore, it seems. It’s as if ye were in love—”

“And what if I am in love with him?” Elizabeth raised a challenging brow. “What cause for concern could you possibly have of it? I, of all, seem to have received the least amount of happiness in this life so far, Annie. If what I’m to have comes from a ghost who died three hundred years ago, who are you or anyone else to question it?”

“I worry for ye is all, my lady,” her maid explained fretfully. “I hear the other servants talk. Some of them claim His Lordship’s ghost comes to their beds too. How can you think you be any different from them, my lady? You’re just one of many! This ghostly bounder flits from room to room to hear them tell of it!”

Elizabeth’s insecurities mounted as she realized Annie was right. James seduced every woman under this roof for three hundred years. What made her different from any of them besides the fact she could communicate with him? He needed her more than the others, she realized sadly. She was losing sight of that truth. Still, she refused to think what they shared meant nothing to him.

“I don’t claim to mean anything to him, Annie. He merely needs my help.”

The maid’s eyes grew rounder in wonder. “What kind of help does he need?”

“He’s been trapped here for centuries. He merely wants to find his eternal rest. He asked me to help him discover the means to free himself. Don’t you see how desperate he must be to have enlisted my help after all of these years of staying silent?”

Annie nodded, her face filled with obvious disbelief. “How is it only you see him and nobody else can, my lady? Don’t you see how unbelievable that is? I fear for ye, my lady. You are talking more strangely every day. I hoped time away would help you see reason.”

“I don’t quite know how that is possible,” Elizabeth outright fibbed. “He was just as surprised as I was. So find it within yourself to feel pity for James, Annie. He isn’t the least bit dangerous. He doesn’t seek to hurt anyone, least of all me. If anything, he makes me happier than you can imagine. The only thing I want is to see is him getting his wish and being released from here.”

Annie avoided her eyes, clearly unimpressed. “I’ll pray for his eternal soul, my lady. Goodnight.”

Elizabeth gritted her teeth as her maid left, pacing in agitation before the hearth. She was fuming over some feminine sense of outrage that mounted over Annie’s assertions James made free with the maids in his absence from her room. And it appeared her servant thought her mad as well.

Elizabeth swore viciously under her breath, a word that no lady would dare utter, to think she was actually acting jealous.

Jealous?

Ridiculous!

She was livid, wondering which one of the maids caught James’ eye and stopped suddenly, feeling more foolish the longer she dwelled upon it.

Elizabeth had no right to feel this jealousy that gnawed at her. What she had with James wasn’t anything she could hold onto quite literally. He was a ghost! He was dead!

Did she have to keep reminding herself the man who took up the majority of her thoughts these days was no longer of this world?

And how pathetic was she to have only that to cling to?

Tears filled her eyes to feel so incredibly alone at that moment, to feel as James might have for years, to have no one. She made her choice long ago, she realized, and wiped at her tears bitterly.

She foolishly fell for Edward’s hateful lies about her father, and later all those about Anthony, costing her every bit of happiness she might ever have in this life.

Was it any wonder she looked for love in the grave, when finding it among the living seemed so desperately impossible?

Elizabeth hung her head in dejection. She refused to answer that lingering question. She went to bed, trying not to miss James and his presence at her side.

Sleep came, and with it, horrific nightmares of how James met his end, seeing it as if from afar, and waking with a bloodcurdling scream in the back of her throat.

~ ~ ~

Dr. Schlossberg managed to interview each and every member of the staff in between his slow painstaking examination of her. Elizabeth held her anger in check during all of it. She answered each and every one of his pointed questions with hardly a twinge of anger.

The questions he asked bordered on the ridiculous, his methods of detecting mental illness so outlandish she seethed to endure it.

Elizabeth could thank the servants for the doctor’s continued presence at Westerleigh. The staff must have taken exception to her turning all around on them making them appear vindictive. The most telling sign of it was when Mrs. Abbot finally broke down under pressure.

She tearfully admitted to the presence of a ghost in the castle.

Dr. Schlossberg heartily declared it a breakthrough.

He now regarded the staff more intently than her. He apologized to her profusely and declared mass hysteria at Westerleigh the cause of the furor.

Another week passed and Elizabeth threw herself into riding the grounds, taking long walks into the village, and attempting embroidery, all to avoid Dr. Schlossberg and his determination to report someone mentally unstable to explain his continued presence and leeching from her larders.

She held her ground, exuding not one sign the man could deem as abnormal in his report to Edward, pasting a smile on her face when all the while she wanted to beat the man about his head and shoulders with the absurd instruments in his doctor’s case.

Elizabeth smirked knowingly at the servants when the good doctor wasn’t about; knowing they likely regretted their actions in reporting on her to the duke. Mr. Pettigrew was almost apologetic of late, his eyes holding a mixture of regret and admiration in them.