Sommersgate House (Ghosts and Reincarnation #2)(34)
Author: Kristen Ashley

Veronika’s English may not have been the greatest but she understood that and let out a frightened peep.

“Nothing missing, no forced entry, all the doors were locked from the inside and no one knew of any enemies that would hate either of them enough. No one knew, either, of any troubles they were having,” Mr. Kilpatrick went on.

“Who were they?” Julia asked.

“Lord and Lady of this very house,” Roddy Kilpatrick explained. “He built it for her, the biggest, grandest house in the county. He was rich, just became the Baron on the death of his father, and everyone says he loved her more than money or titles or anything. She was a merchant’s daughter, not of his class but enough so that he could court her. They said she loved him just the same. They lived in this house for weeks, maybe a few months when it happened.”

“She left a baby boy,” Mrs. K added. “He was raised by her mother and the line was safe but, ever since, he’s been trying to get in and she, well no one knows what she’s doin’.”

“She?” Julia prompted.

“Ever feel a draught around yer ankles? Or hear any whispers? People say sometimes that she screams,” Mr. Kilpatrick explained, Julia’s mouth dropped open and Mr. Kilpatrick nodded. “Yep, that’s her. No one ever sees her but they feel her. No one knows if she keeps him out or if she’s tryin’ to let him in.”

Mrs. K took the story from there. “They say, and Lady Tamsin believed this, that this house is cursed. That the curse will only lift when a living Sommersgate baron finds a bride that he loves truly, and she truly loves him in return, then The Old Master will be let in to reunite with his bride and then they’ll be at peace and so will Sommersgate.”

“But,” Julia began, “this house is over a hundred years old. There has to have been some baron that loved his wife in that time.”

The husband and wife looked at each other and then looked at Julia, shaking their heads.

“It wasn’t often done in that class, my love,” Mrs. K explained.

“But now, these days it is… isn’t it?” Julia asked, wondering about Monique and Maxwell (not that she could imagine Monique loving anyone, including her dead husband).

Julia received more shaking of the heads.

It was then the kids came home, crashing loudly into the kitchen and story time was over.

But Julia found a moment to search out Veronika before the girl left for the day. When she did, Julia touched her arm.

“Are you okay?” Julia asked. “With this, er… ghost business,” she went on to explain.

“Sad,” Veronika said, her eyes making that one word far more expressive.

Julia nodded and smiled and was about to walk away when Veronika stopped her.

“You?” she asked and then went on hesitantly. “Okay?” Julia nodded again but Veronika forged on, looking scared but determined. “Not with ghosts, with…” She let that hang and Julia knew exactly what she meant.

Without thinking, Julia pulled the girl into a hug and after a moment Veronika returned it.

“I’m fine,” Julia whispered. “Don’t worry about me. It’ll be okay for all of us,” Julia stated with feeling. “I promise.”

This time, Veronika nodded, pulled away, gave Julia a pretty but tentative smile and then walked away.

That was yesterday. Tonight was different.

The scratching was back, intent and determined. He was out there.

It was late and although Monique was gone, the scratching and everything on Julia’s mind wouldn’t allow her to sleep. She was averaging less than five hours a night and she was constantly exhausted.

Douglas had disappeared, no word, no sign. Pride was now stopping her from calling both him and Samantha to find out what he was doing and when he would return. He should be home; he’d been gone for over two weeks. He was supposed to be helping her with the kids and he’d not even had the courtesy to phone. She was furious and the minute she saw him again she was going to let him have it.

She had to think that way. If she allowed herself to think of the way he sometimes looked at her and the fact that he kissed her…

Kissed her!

She still couldn’t fathom it.

She’d been right, a game was afoot. Perhaps he was trying to get her to slip up, seem like the gold-digging monster his mother thought she was. Perhaps he was going to try to prove her unworthy of taking care of the children by seducing her, making her look the brazen hussy. Why, she did not know, as he had little interest in the children but who knew exactly how Douglas Ashton’s mind worked.

If she wasn’t careful, he would succeed. It had been a long time for her. She’d not had a lover since Sean. When Douglas had kissed her, she kissed him back, she didn’t want to but she couldn’t help herself.

He was a good kisser.

No, he wasn’t a good kisser, he was an excellent kisser.

And he was Douglas.

There was a time when she’d dreamed of him kissing her, when she’d have practically paid him to do it (not that he’d need or take the money). She never imagined that he would even want to kiss her, let alone do it.

And it had been good, oh so very good to have that hard, sexy mouth with its mysterious scar on hers. He tasted like… like… well, he tasted like all man and like sex, touching her tongue to his, feeling his tongue in her mouth, the only thought on her mind was having his mouth on her body, everywhere on her body. He barely had to try before he broke through her struggle and she was clinging to him and kissing him back like a wanton.

His body was so warm and hard and…

She shook her head to clear it. She would not, could not think of Douglas. She had to get a hold of herself. She could not live the next more than a decade panting after the Lord of the Manor. It was humiliating and she wouldn’t allow it to happen, not ever again.

The scratching was fraying her nerves and when she could take it no more, she threw the covers back and stalked to Douglas’s study to get a whisky to soothe her tension and hopefully put herself to sleep. She’d get drunk if she had to, sleep on the sofa in the study to avoid the infernal, constant scratching. She threw her lilac, cashmere robe on over her pyjamas and headed out of her room.

The draperies were open in the study and moonlight lit the room. The moon was so huge and bright, she didn’t bother with the lights, walked directly to the drinks cabinet and picked up the decanter she’d seen Douglas using. She was reaching for a glass when she heard a deep, baritone voice.