Margo Maguire (10 page)

“This way, Mr. Temple,” Lilly said, leading him around the desk into an office. It was clearly her office, with framed prints on the walls—pictures of Egyptian pyramids, the ruins of the Roman Coliseum and the Greek Parthenon.

A door at the far end of the office led to a private apartment.

“Charlotte and I have our own kitchen here,” she said. “Rather than interfere in Mr. Clive’s domain, we sometimes prepare our own meals.”

Sam realized he had made some progress with her if she was willing to take him into her private rooms.

“I can make a small meal for you here, if you don’t mind something simple.”

“I appreciate it.”

He enjoyed watching her. Every movement was done with purpose and confidence. Lilly Tearwater was a woman who knew what needed to be done, and she did it without thinking about appearances, or what anyone might say. Who else would have deliberately dropped her table linens to prevent him having to take Hinkley’s hand?

Sam followed her into a small, sunny room with a table and two chairs. A compact stove was fitted into one corner between neat rows of cupboards, and there was a sink and water pump under the window.

Lilly put on an apron and stoked the fire under the kettle. Sam couldn’t help but notice the way the band of the apron spanned her waist and the bib hugged her breasts.

Deliberately, he turned to look out the window, although he took no notice of the view outside. If he had found himself alone with a beautiful woman like Lilly Tearwater a year ago, he wouldn’t have confined himself to just looking, merely appreciating her beauty.

By this point in their acquaintance, Sam would have gently moved her against the cupboard and placed one hand on either side of her. He’d have dipped his head, tasted the pulse point at the base of her throat with his tongue. Her feminine scent would have permeated his senses, her warm breath feathered over his forehead and hair. A slight shifting of his legs would bring his body in contact with hers,
and she would recognize the intensity of his hunger for her. Her own quickening arousal would be unmistakable when she moved against him with a sigh…

Sam gripped the windowsill. Gritting his teeth, he put all his effort into restraining his lustful imagination. Such fantasies had no place in his life anymore.

He took a deep breath and turned toward her. “You ever see any ghosts in here?”

The almost imperceptible slowing of her movements nearly escaped Sam’s notice. But not quite. She was on her guard. “Usually they’re out in the garden.”

“Usually” wasn’t a good answer. But Sam didn’t want to antagonize her. He wanted to get information from her.

“Even in winter?”

“It’s likely, although no one spends much time out there when the weather is inclement.”

He started to relax. Like her first reply, this answer was quick and clever without saying anything. “So they show up indoors then?”

She took out a knife and a block of cheese and began to cut. “They appear inside and out, all through the year, although I cannot vouch for any apparition that is not witnessed.”

She filled his plate and handed it to him. “You saw Lady Alice and the broken attic window she caused. I don’t understand why you’re so skeptical.”

“It must be my training,” he said, taking a seat at her table. “A scientist learns to question most everything.”

Lilly turned to the stove and busied herself pour
ing tea. Then she deliberately changed the subject. “You should keep better track of the time when you’re working, Mr. Temple, so that you don’t miss any more meals. Or I can have the kitchen staff prepare something for you to take with you on your forays.”

“I’ll bear that in mind.” Sam decided not to push the discussion of ghosts, or she might withdraw from the conversation entirely. Better to pursue it another time. He started to eat. “You didn’t seem very enthusiastic about the mayor’s proposal.”

“He wants me to expand Ravenwell.”

“Isn’t that a good idea? More space would mean more paying customers.”

“Yes, but I’m satisfied with the size of the inn. It’s no more than Charlotte and I can handle, and besides…” She shrugged and placed two cups of tea on the table.

“Besides?”

“It’s nothing.”

Her blush indicated it was anything
but
nothing, though it embarrassed her.

“There’s no reason why you should have to enlarge the place. You’re the owner—it’s your decision.”

She took off her apron and sat down across from him, curving her hands around her cup as she gazed absently into it. “True.”

Her reasons for keeping Ravenwell unchanged had nothing to do with him. Expansion made perfect sense, but it would also mean a lot more work for Lilly. And there was a particular character to the place… It was small, intimate and friendly. Lilly spoke to each of her guests personally. She recom
mended sights to see, activities to pursue. That might well change if she added another wing.

A pensive crease appeared on her brow and her tongue darted out to moisten her lips. They were full and soft, ripe for a kiss.

Her eyes rose to settle on his hands, then up his chest to his neck. A moment later, her gaze reached his mouth. She had to know that he would not make any advances, and it wasn’t only because of propriety.
He could not,
damn it, no matter how desperately his body craved her touch, her taste. But her breath quickened and her eyes darkened with arousal in spite of what she knew about him.

A
lock of Samuel’s hair fell over his forehead and Lilly reached out and pushed it back without touching him. Instantly, a china teacup fell from the cupboard and smashed on the stove, but they hardly noticed. Samuel’s eyes drifted closed while Lilly touched his neck and stroked his shoulders. She wished she could do more. She wanted to run her hands across his chest, and touch her lips to his…

The thoughts and desires that filled her mind were outrageous, of course. And pointless. But that did not stop her from using her power to touch his lips, to stroke his neck and his chest, to caress the muscles of his thighs.

When his dazed eyes drifted up to meet hers across the table, Lilly realized how far she’d gone. Shocked by what she’d done, she stood so abruptly that her chair nearly tipped over. She caught it before it could fall, righted it and scooted to the stove. “I— I must have left that cup on the edge of the shelf.”

She started to brush the broken pieces of china into a dustpan, but Samuel came up behind her. He moved close, but maintained a distinct distance be
tween them. “Lilly…” His voice was strained. “I don’t… Somehow, when I’m with you…” She heard the harsh rasp of his sigh and turned toward him. His face was a picture of pain and regret. “You are so very beautiful. If only I…”

Her heart pounded with expectancy, but she did not doubt the severity of his inner wounds. Whatever lay between them would be left unexplored, buried.

“Lilly, if I were capable of touching you, making love to you, nothing would stop me. And I’d be free again. Free of the nightmare that keeps me shackled here in the security of civilized society.”

He shook his head, then turned and left her. He walked out of her kitchen, out of the apartment.

Standing alone, she realized her own breathing was ragged, her hands shaking. And she finally understood that if he ever managed to overcome his fears and touch her, he would leave her.

By early evening, the platform was complete. Sam built it as if it were a seaworthy raft. Smooth planks made up the base and strong beams reinforced it from underneath. He nailed the entire contraption to a wedge of stout branches that supported it securely at a height directly across from the hive.

He immersed himself in the work, managing to escape being stung by the bees, and avoiding thoughts of what had transpired in Lilly Tearwater’s kitchen. It was just so much nonsense, spawned by his damaged mind, although he realized that what he’d told her had been true. If he could overcome his aversion to touch, the other terrors would abate. And he would be free.

Standing on the solid platform, Sam reached up
and secured the canvas tarpaulin over his work area, making sure that it was entirely protected in case of rain. His camera and plates were too valuable to leave at the mercy of the elements. So were his notes and drawings.

All of his work in Sudan had been lost. He’d had to replace his camera and tripod, and he was still trying to reconstruct the notes that had been destroyed. It was a massive amount of labor, considering that he had to replace months of experiments and observations.

Satisfied that he’d built a satisfactory perch from which to observe the bees, Sam used the extra lumber to construct a box where he could keep his camera equipment and his notebooks when he returned to the inn every night. It was not practical to haul everything back and forth every day.

It was nearly dark when he returned to the inn. He took the wagon to the barn and arranged to borrow it one last time in the morning, then went to his room to clean up and change clothes. By the time he returned to the dining room, supper was already being served.

But at least he’d made it in time. He wasn’t going to impose on Lilly for a private meal again.

The dining area was a pleasant room with tables covered in white cloths and fancy china ware. The sideboard where Sam had placed Lilly’s tablecloths was now laden with covered dishes and crystal decanters. Sam particularly liked the windows that overlooked the side garden, although it had become too dark to fully appreciate the flower beds.

Lilly stood at the opposite end of the dining room, near the kitchen, making friendly conversation with
the guests at the farthest table. The deep violet of her gown was rich and lush, and Sam knew that its color would match her eyes.

Serving girls moved among the tables, setting down platters of food, serving coffee. Since his arrival at the inn, Sam had met many of the visitors—all people who had flocked to Ravenwell to catch a glimpse of the ghosts.

He took a seat near one of the windows and caught sight of Miss Charlotte, walking toward Lilly. A moment later, the two stepped out of the dining room together.

Sam ordered his meal and tried not to think of Lilly in her elegant gown, with its neckline that left her delicate collarbones exposed. He closed his mind to the way he’d imagined it would feel if she actually ran her fingers through his hair, or touched his mouth with her lips, the way he’d imagined that afternoon. Far better to consider what might be planned for the Ravenwell ghosts this evening, and what part Lilly and Miss Charlotte would play in the farce.

With a pleasant smile on her face, Charlotte returned to the dining room and walked toward the kitchen. When her eyes alighted on Sam, she changed course to head in his direction.

Interpreting a few of her hand signals, Sam realized she wanted to sit down and join him. He invited her to do so, although he didn’t know how well he would be able to communicate with her.

He sat back in his chair and stretched out his legs as he waited for her to indicate what she wanted of him, wondering if his suspicion about her involvement with the apparitions was valid.

Charlotte wasted no time, but sat down across from him and started to gesture with her hands.

“The bees?” he asked, interpreting her signs.

She nodded, then pointed to her eyes.

“You saw…?” he guessed. “You—”

Charlotte tapped the table lightly, then moved both hands as if they were sliding up a wide column. At the top of the column she flattened one hand, palm down, and moved it sideways.

Sam frowned. He could not fathom what she meant.

Lilly saw Samuel’s puzzled expression and knew she had to rescue him. She gave him credit for not squirming uneasily as Charlotte tried to talk to him, and watched him struggle to understand. Crossing the dining room, Lilly sat down in a chair next to Charlotte. “Good evening.”

He gave her a curt nod, but kept his attention on Charlotte. If he was uncomfortable after their parting in Lilly’s kitchen, he did not show any sign of it.

“The chestnut tree,” he said, finally understanding her gesture. “Where the hive is. My platform.”

Lilly took pleasure in watching him work out the puzzle that was Charlotte’s form of conversation. He didn’t ask for Lilly’s help, and his manner did not belittle Charlotte. He was genuinely interested in understanding her. Lilly knew only one other man who’d ever bothered to learn to communicate with Charlotte—their friend Tom Fletcher, who had become as close to them as a brother.

“Climb?” Sam asked. “You want to know how I climb up there?”

He took an old envelope from his pocket, and a
pencil, and drew a quick sketch of the tree. Then he added a rope ladder and showed the paper to Charlotte.

“You’re getting good at this,” Lilly said.

“Nothing to it,” he replied, and returned his attention to the deaf woman. She asked whether he would allow her to climb the ladder and see the platform he’d built. She told him that she would love to see Ravenwell Cottage and all the fields and the lake from up high, but Lilly doubted Samuel would understand all that, although he could not have missed her basic question.

Samuel turned to Lilly. “You’ll have to answer this one.”

She was saved from saying anything immediately by the arrival of Samuel’s meal. Surely Charlotte would be safe with him. Lilly herself had been alone with him several times—instances when he might have taken liberties, but had not. He
could
not.

“What do you say, Miss Tearwater?” he asked. “Will you and Charlotte visit me in my bower?”

Charlotte had been snubbed and ridiculed most of her life. She meant nothing to Samuel Temple, yet his respectful attitude was remarkable.

And Lilly felt herself fall a little bit in love with him for his kindness to her friend.

“Yes, of course,” she said. “Charlotte and I would be delighted to join you.”

Clearly pleased with Lilly’s reaction to the question, Charlotte left the table and disappeared into the kitchen, where Mr. Clive would have a task for her.

“She gets along very well despite her deafness,” Samuel said.

“We manage, at least, up here at Ravenwell.”

“But…not in town.”

Lilly gave a slight shake of her head. “She stays away from Asbury, except for church. Charlotte needs looking after because she’s young and vulnerable. And she is so beautiful that there have been a few…incidents…involving young men who…”

She bit her lip, too embarrassed to speak of it.

Samuel nodded once, clearly understanding her intimation. “You two are very close.”

“We are,” she said. “Maude Barnaby brought us here from an orphanage in Blackpool—to keep her company, and to work.”

“Strange that she would choose Charlotte, given her deafness.”

Lilly felt her cheeks heat with color at the memory of the way she’d insisted that Maude take Charlotte. She looked away guiltily.

“You were responsible for that, weren’t you? For insisting that Charlotte come along?”

She shrugged. “Charlotte was so small. And she didn’t understand anything. I got it into my head that I wasn’t going to leave Saint Anne’s without Charlotte. But I don’t think Maude ever regretted bringing Charlotte here.”

It was lovely to sit and talk so freely with Samuel. They’d begun a perfectly enjoyable discussion that afternoon about Mr. Hinkley’s suggestion that she enlarge the inn, but she’d ruined it with her impulsive phantom touches.

Lilly was ashamed of herself. She had seen the scars resulting from Samuel’s injuries. She could not imagine the anguish he’d suffered in Sudan. His abrupt departure from her rooms that afternoon was a clear indication that he’d been upset, and rightly
so. She should not have used her magic to make him feel her touch, when he was clearly uncomfortable with the very thought of human contact.

Lilly had to keep tighter control. She couldn’t let her attraction to him dictate her behavior. From now on, Samuel was merely a guest. There would be no more encounters at the lake, no late lunches in her private quarters.

“No doubt you’re right. Tell me…will the Ravenwell ghosts appear tonight?”

Lilly shook her head, aware that they were playing a sort of game. Something like the tug-of-war she and Charlotte and Tom had played as children. “It’s possible. Anything’s possible.”

She eased back into her chair, preferring to stay where she was, but ready to leave if he was going to interrogate her about the ghosts.

“So there’s no pattern to their appearances?”

She shook her head in reply. “It happens fairly frequently—several times every week.”

“There are two, right?” he asked. “Do they both appear?”

“Do you mean each time?”

He nodded.

“No. Occasionally, Lady Alice or Sir Emmett will be seen alone, pining for their beloved.”

Samuel made a derisive sound. “Save your soliloquy for someone who believes in the illusion.”

“You mean you don’t believe in such a love, Mr. Temple?” Lilly asked, pretending to misunderstand his skepticism. “One that transcends all barriers…including death?”

His eyes, icy blue, met hers for several heartbeats.
Then he slowly shook his head. “When it happens, I’m sure it’s rare.”

Lilly did not want to believe that. She might have become a practical businesswoman, but she wanted to believe that the kind of bond she’d created between Lady Alice and Sir Emmett was real. It irritated her that Samuel Temple would not concede that fact. “I suppose that love isn’t scientific enough for you?”

He propped his fingertips together and gazed at her. “I’ve been all over the world, Miss Tearwater, and seen all kinds of people, in many different cultures. Trust me when I say it happens rarely.”

His cynicism triggered a perverse reaction from Lilly.

The gaslights in the dining room flickered, then Lady Alice and Sir Emmett came to life at the table beside them. The two ghosts seemed to float just above the surface of the table, and Lilly made certain that every feature, every detail of their clothing was clearly visible.

With one thought, Lilly directed the actions of her ghosts. Completely absorbed in one another, they appeared to pay no attention to their surroundings, just as Lilly imagined two lovers would do. Sir Emmett took Lady Alice in his arms and kissed her. Colorful light shimmered around them as Lady Alice’s hands slid up Sir Emmett’s back, pulling him closer. He intensified the kiss, then trailed his mouth down her neck, kissing her throat and the bare skin above her bodice.

“Christ!”
Samuel Temple’s voice was a harsh whisper.

Lilly suddenly remembered that the dining room
was full of guests when Mr. Payton and several others came closer to watch in wonder as the two ghosts played out Lilly’s whimsy.

“They don’t notice us, do they?” Mr. Payton exclaimed. “So very…enamored, are they not?”

Samuel left his table and joined the others. He watched Lady Alice and Sir Emmett for a short time, then peered up at the ceiling and to each of the walls in turn. Then he circled the table, holding one arm up, as if waving to someone at the far end of the room. Apparently dissatisfied with that maneuver, he looked under the table.

Lilly kept the two entwined until she was certain Samuel was convinced they were real. She would not allow him to continue believing she was a fraud, nor would she let him think there was no such thing as everlasting love.

Love was something no one could predict or define. It was the least scientific wonder in the universe.