Sommersgate House

Chapter Eight The Game

Julia lay on her bed and stared at the dark ceiling. The scratching was at the window but she’d drawn the drapes.

She had to draw the drapes because last night, she’d seen what was scratching.

It was Ruby’s imaginary friend. Except, he wasn’t imaginary. He was real. Not real, exactly, a ghost. A man, handsome and tall and wearing an old-fashioned suit from some time that Julia didn’t know. He had dark hair and dark eyes and the only good thing about him was that he wanted to get in but he couldn’t. She knew that because she saw him try… and fail.

“Damn,” she whispered, tossing in her bed, “damn, damn, damn!”

The last two weeks had been an absolute nightmare.

A nightmare named Monique.

The woman was awful, she was truly awful.

Julia tried to find something good or nice in everyone and every night she’d been wracking her brain trying to find one teeny, tiny, little characteristic that Monique had that was likable or even acceptable.

There were none.

The staff feared her, Veronika most of all. And Julia could see why. At the best of times, Monique was imperious. The worst of times, she was scathing. Julia had witnessed her coldly tearing apart Veronika for missing some speck of dust or not polishing the banister to a high enough sheen and she’d been astounded by the woman’s sheer evil. She acted like Veronika had thrown a wild crack party and accidentally burned the house down.

And the children didn’t know what to make of her or the relationship between her and their aunt. She was no less dictatorial with the kids though she cut herself short at any disdainful remarks. Most likely because, if she tried, she knew Julia would scratch her eyes out which made Julia wonder how Monique had been with the children before Julia had arrived.

And Monique didn’t waste any time.

In fact, it started the day after Douglas left.

On Monday, Monique had been absent all day, staying in her room or her morning room and completely avoiding Julia and ignoring the children.

On Tuesday, she sent Mrs. K to find Julia and invite her to the morning room for tea.

Ruby was, pointedly, not invited.

Julia appeared as requested, hoping to negotiate a truce. Monique was dressed in a pale pink blouse and cream tailored trousers with a pair of expensive matching pumps. Her dark brown hair was swept up in a neat chignon. Her smooth, high cheekbones shone with artfully applied blusher.

She regally inclined her head toward a chair covered in flowered chintz, which was, Julia guessed, her invitation to take a seat. The morning room, just as the drawing room, was decorated in ice blue and white but in this room it seemed only slightly less formal, no less cold.

Julia sat and Monique asked with feigned sweetness, “Tea?”

“No thank you, I don’t drink tea,” Julia replied.

Monique ignored her and poured tea into a dainty, china cup, added a wedge of lemon and handed it to her.

Julia held it, stunned into immobility by the woman’s rudeness.

“Let’s not misunderstand ourselves, you and I,” Monique said, sipping from her own cup and gazing dispassionately at Julia like she was something that crawled out from under a rock.

“Monique,” Julia started, in hopes of laying the tentative groundwork to heal relations, “I just want to do what’s right for those children and get along with you and with Douglas.”

“Douglas, my dear, is what I’d like to talk to you about.”

Julia tensed and Monique didn’t delay in explaining exactly what the tête-à-tête was about.

“Your brother, God rest his soul,” she touched her hand to her heart in false grief, “convinced my somewhat misguided daughter that he was worthy of her attention. But I shall tell you right now what I should have told him. He was not worthy of my family and you, particularly, are not worthy of my son. I know what kind of woman you are. I know what those pictures showed. I know your intentions. And I will not allow you to…”

But Julia was no longer listening to her. Monique had made a fatal mistake in her little interview. She could have attacked Julia, which would mean that Julia would have tried to react kindly or at least diplomatically.

But she should never have said a word against Gavin.

Julia put her cup down with such force that it clattered, stood up and stared down at the woman.

“Don’t you dare speak about my brother to me ever again, Monique. Do I make myself perfectly clear?” she whispered, her voice an enraged hiss.

For a moment Monique looked startled but she recovered quickly. “Should I remind you that it is my home you are living in, my sheets you are sleeping on, my –”

“I beg to differ but on the death of your husband, is it not true that all of that became Douglas’s? If you have an issue with me staying here, I’ll ask you to skip chats such as this and take it up directly with your son.”

And without allowing Monique to say another word, she’d walked out.

She’d been shaking with fury and when she exited the room she nearly ran into both Mrs. K and Veronika who, if she had thought about it at the time, were more than likely listening at the door.

She wanted someone to talk to (or more precisely someone to vent to) but Mrs. K looked at her kindly and Veronika gave her a shaky smile and they both scurried away as quickly as they could.

That meant, obviously, both of them were out as confidants.

She would normally call Patricia but her mother, she knew, would have lost her mind and flown out on the next available plane.

In a moment of temporary insanity, she considered calling Douglas.

Instead she phoned Charlotte.

Charlotte listened and before Julia could relate the whole story, her new friend interrupted with, “That woman is vile.”

For some reason, this comment made Julia relax.

“It was like a scene out of a bad soap opera,” Julia told her and couldn’t stop herself from laughing at the memory which, looking back, seemed ridiculous and exactly like a scene out of a bad soap opera (unfortunately, it wasn’t).

“If Douglas is away and you need a break, you just pack up those kids and come to London. Ollie and I have plenty of room.”

“Charlie,” Julia explained, still laughing and touched by this offer from her new friend, “I can’t drive. I don’t have a car or a license yet.”

“Then I’ll come get you!” Charlotte declared.

Julia had to decline. As much as she wanted to escape, it would mean taking the kids out of school, shaking up their lives yet again and she couldn’t do that.

No, she was stuck and she had to do the best she could.

However, sadly, Monique wasn’t nearly finished yet.

All sign of sugar bowl, butter and jam was away the next morning at the breakfast table. When Julia asked Mrs. K where it was, Mrs. K explained that Lady Ashton had told her not to include it when laying the table.

So Julia put it on the table herself.

The next morning, it was gone again.

So Julia put it back.

And this went on.

Evening meals were the same struggle. Eventually, Julia commandeered Carter, grabbed Ruby and went to the grocery store herself.

Mrs. K continued to make healthy meals. Julia, with Ruby’s “help”, worked alongside her adding buttery garlic bread and thick gravies and making cakes and pies.

It was the fourth night Monique was home, and the first night she deigned to dine with them, when pecan pie with ice cream concluded the dinner.

When Julia brought in the dessert, Monique stared at it in disgust.

As Julia cut a healthy piece for the still introverted Lizzie, Monique announced, “You do that child no favours, she’s already fighting a weight problem as it is.”

Lizzie’s twelve year old girl ears registered this insult and she stiffened.

Julia stared at her niece, the girl’s eyes haunted, her cheeks hollow. Lizzie had most likely lost ten pounds she couldn’t afford since her parents died. She had no weight problem.

The courteous thing to do was hold her tongue and have a word with Monique during a private moment but Julia was too incensed for courtesy.

“Monique, you may be under the ludicrous impression that those Hollywood lollipop girls with their stick-thin bodies and enormous heads are attractive but they… are… not. They look like aliens from another planet! Lizzie needs to put on weight, not take it off.”

Monique had stared at her with murder in her eyes and, with no other option, Julia simply stared back. All three children watched in stunned silence but finally Julia broke the staring contest and carried on serving dessert like nothing happened while Monique left the table in icy silence.

After that episode, she wanted to call Douglas again, which she knew was an irrational idea. She was saved from doing that by Charlie calling her.

She told her friend about the lollipop girl comment and Charlie hooted with laughter.

“Forget coming here, I’m coming to visit you. This I have to see.”

Julia laughed with her but no matter how fun Charlie was making it seem, it was anything but fun and the next day, it became worse.

When she asked Carter to take her to the grocery store, he declined saying that Lady Ashton told him that he could only take Julia somewhere if she approved it, personally.

“I see,” Julia replied quietly as Carter wrung the cap in his hands either nervously or angrily, she couldn’t tell as his face was carefully blank but his lips were thinned. “That’s okay, Carter, it’s a beautiful day. I’ll walk!”

It was not a beautiful day. It was chilly and grey and threatening rain. But that wasn’t going to stop her. Nothing was going to stop her.

There were footpaths crisscrossing all over the United Kingdom, Gavin had introduced her to them. She found a walking map in the library, plotted her course, grabbed a couple of umbrellas and she and Ruby went on an expedition. It was more than two miles there and back and both of them were exhausted and drenched by the rain that came in the last half mile but it didn’t matter. Ruby loved it and Julia was determined that woman was not going to beat her. Monique was not going to use the staff against her and Julia was not going to allow the servants’ already unhappy existence to suffer for anything Julia did.

Luckily, the next day, her driving license came in the mail.

“Relief!” she shouted as she opened her mail and Veronika, who was clearing away the breakfast dishes jumped. Julia walked straight to her and grabbed both her cheeks and kissed the girl on her forehead. “Freedom!” she crowed to Mrs. K who had just walked in to witness her exuberance and Julia waved the license at them and strode away to e-mail her mother and call Charlie and Sam.

That evening, just when she thought things would start swinging her way, she saw the man behind the window. He was looking at her imploringly and trying to reach through the glass toward her. The minute his hands tried to push through the glass, he disappeared, the vision of him shimmering and melting until he was gone.

Julia had stifled a scream upon seeing him, stood staring at the space he was in for moments after he was gone and then she slapped the draperies shut. She spent the rest of the night trying (and failing) to talk herself out of believing what she saw.

There were no such things as ghosts.

Were there?

The next day, Monique thankfully left for a spa visit in London with no word on when she would return and no good-byes.

With the vision of the man still foremost in her mind (and seeing a ghost was not a relief from having Monique or Douglas’s bizarrely passionate kiss good-bye (he’d never kissed her, passionately or otherwise) being the things foremost in her mind), Julia approached Mrs. K and Veronika in the afternoon while they were in the kitchen.

Without leading into it gently, she simply announced, “I saw a man outside my window last night.”

Veronika, who had spent the last week desperately attempting to be neither seen nor heard, especially when Lady Ashton was around, let out a little scream.

Mrs. K turned from the stove where she was making a delicious-smelling stew, taking advantage of Monique’s absence to fatten up the children.

“Oh dear,” she muttered.

“Oh dear is right,” Julia replied even though she felt oh dear was an understatement. “And Ruby sees him too. She waves at him and I even saw her talking to him the other day.”

Ruby was off with Carter picking up Lizzie and Willie. Mrs. K looked at Veronika who looked back at her, the young girl’s face pale and frightened.

“All right, there’s nothing for it. You two, yes, Veronika, the both of you, sit down,” Mrs. K ordered, dipping her head to the kitchen table.

Without further coaxing, Veronika and Julia sat together at the big, wooden kitchen table with its friendly yellow oil cloth. Mrs. K put the lid on the stew and was about to turn to them when Mr. Kilpatrick walked through the door.

Julia had only met Roderick Kilpatrick a couple of times. According to Mrs. K, her husband took care of the grounds, oversaw the gardeners, allowed or disallowed hunters as the case may be and also maintained and oversaw several other properties and farms that Douglas owned in the vicinity. He had a wealth of coarse grey hair, a big, droopy moustache and ruddy cheeks.

“Miss Julia. Veronika,” he touched his cap to them and looked at his wife, “I’ll come back later.”

“You’ll stay, Roddy, she’s seen The Master.”

That brought Roddy up short and he swung his head toward Julia and then looked like he’d try to make good an escape before he saw the severe look his wife gave him. Upon seeing her look, he reluctantly entered the room.

“Veronika, have you seen him?” Mrs. K asked, her voice losing its wifely authority and turning kind.

Veronika nodded, her eyes wide.

“Nothing for it, Rod,” Mrs. K said decisively, her eyes swinging back to him.

Mr. Kilpatrick sighed and both the Kilpatricks sat across from Julia and Veronika.

“There’s nothing to fear, lasses. Really there ain’t. He’s been around, and so has his missus, for as long as this house has been standin’,” Roddy Kilpatrick announced.

Julia glanced at Veronika who returned her look, her dark eyes frightened.

“No one knows the real story,” Mrs. K began. “Some say he killed her, some say someone else killed them both. The truth is, they found his body outside, dead from exposure and looking like he’d been trying to get in. They found The Mistress in the house and she’d been strangled.”

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.

“Can’t sleep?”

She jumped, whirled and almost dropped the decanter.

“Douglas!” Julia cried in surprise.

He was sitting in the armchair that faced away from the door, towards the window. He was lounging with feet up on the table in front of him like he had no cares in the world. As if he didn’t have three children he was supposed to be looking after. As if he didn’t have a harridan of a mother who was making everyone’s life at Sommersgate a living hell and had been for years. As if none of this touched him.

Something about this made her both angry and on edge.

She could see the glint of a glass in his hand.

“Julia,” he replied calmly in greeting.

“You’re home,” she noted unnecessarily, feeling foolish.

She should be shouting at him because he’d abandoned her to the fate worse than death that was Monique. But something made her stop.

Something made her nervous.

He didn’t reply, just looked up at her, his face partially in shadow, partially lit by the moonlight and the effect was decidedly ominous.

“What are you doing, sitting in the dark?” she asked.

“Thinking,” he answered shortly.

She stood there mutely, holding the decanter and waiting for him to say more.

He didn’t.

She twisted, put the decanter down and turned back. In that time, he had silently risen from his chair and her faint feeling of dread intensified as ominous turned menacing.

What was he up to now?

She wanted to escape but curiosity got the better of her.

And curiosity killed the cat, Patricia always used to say.

“Thinking about what?” she asked.

He walked forward a couple of steps, stopped a foot away and leaned into her.

She inhaled sharply with alarm but he only reached around her, grabbed the decanter she had just set down and refreshed his drink.

He leaned back in to replace it and she said belatedly, “Let me get out of your way.”

“Thinking,” his deep voice rumbled, rooting her to the spot as he paused to take a sip from his glass, “about a woman who would give up everything to come and look after three children. Children who lived thousands of miles away from her and who, upon reflection, she barely knew. Why would someone do that?”

“Do you mean me?” Julia asked stupidly.

He didn’t answer.

She slid away from him in order to put a healthy distance between them. He was frightening her with his tone and his question and with his overall mood.

Douglas didn’t have moods. Douglas glided through life guarded by Teflon.

“Why do you think I did it?” she inquired, trying to read him.

“You tell me,” he responded.

She’d escaped to stand in front of his desk, putting furniture between them. He had to turn and his face was again illuminated by the moonlight. It was blank, not naturally so, carefully so.

“I did it because Tamsin and Gavin asked me,” Julia gave the obvious reply. Again, he said nothing and her nervousness made her go on. “It isn’t as if I barely knew the children. We spoke on the phone regularly. We spent holidays together, I’d come over for vacations. You know, you saw me every time I came out.” That was true, she realised in distracted surprise; he did. Regardless of how busy he was, every visit she made to England, (save for the ones during the time of his Disappearance) she saw Douglas.

He leaned his hip against the drinks cabinet and continued to watch her, his face showing nothing.

“Can we turn on a light?” she requested, her voice pitched a little high, her tone sounding damnably, and obviously, uneasy.

“No.” Her anxiety escalated at his answer and he continued. “You’ve damaged your career, sold your home, left everything behind. It seems a noble sacrifice, extraordinarily so. One might say unbelievably so.”

“Gavin would have done it for me,” she told him, her anxiety beginning to fade to anger as the intent behind his questions began to dawn on her.

What exactly was he inferring? Did he think this was a walk in the park for her? Did he honestly think that she was thrilled to ruin her life, stall her career and live with his Attila the Hun of a mother in this beautifully scary but incredibly ostentatious house that was so far from a home it wasn’t funny?

He didn’t respond, just kept watching her and she felt compelled to explain.

“In fact, he did do it for me, in his way. We take care of each other, we always did,” she said with feeling.

“Gavin gave up his life for you?” he asked, not attempting now to hide his disbelief. “When did this happen?”

“With Sean. And he didn’t actually ‘give up his life’ but if he’d been caught…” Julia stopped, her voice still sounded nervous but it had a slightly belligerent edge.

“Webster? How?” Douglas questioned, his tone still disbelieving.

Julia shook her head. Could she trust him with this information? Obviously he was leading somewhere with this attack and she had the distinct impression she knew where he was leading. He’d obviously taken Monique’s accusations to heart and, with so very much time away to think about it, he decided that Julia had come for the same reason that Monique did. The kiss, she had to admit, undoubtedly helped.

As angry as that ridiculous and arrogant assumption made her, she felt it necessary to explain if just to throw it in his face. Gavin was now gone and even if it changed Douglas’s opinion of her brother, so be it. She’d never spoken to Gavin about it, never told him she suspected but, with Gavin gone, what would it matter?

“I told Gavin what Sean had… done to me,” she started tentatively.

“The cheating,” Douglas interrupted and she was surprised he knew.

But then again, everyone knew, even Julia.

She shrugged lightly and said, “Yes, that…” she paused not willing to share more so she finished, “and other things.”

His eyes narrowed before he put his drink down and took two steps toward her.

She took two steps back and her bottom hit the edge of his desk. She might be angry but she didn’t like talking about this and, furthermore, it was none of his concern. She was beginning to be furious he’d put her in a position of defending herself, just as furious as she was scared of him. He was frightening when he was brooding like this, immensely so.

“What other things?” he asked when he’d stopped advancing.

“Nothing, just… it seems silly now but at the time –”

“Yes?” he prompted, obviously not willing to read into it and demanding she explain.

“Sean could be very cruel,” Julia replied simply.

Cruel was not the word for it. It was more than cruel the way Sean spoke to her. It was soul-destroying.

“How so?” Douglas pushed.

She sighed deeply, wondering how to explain it, wondering if a man like Douglas could even understand it.

“He didn’t hit me or anything.” Her eyes skittered away. She hated to think about it and had learned, over the years, to set it aside. It wasn’t her, she told herself over and over again, it was Sean. He was destructive, belittling, domineering and hurtful. She didn’t make him that way; he’d been that way always. It still made her heart ache, even after all these years. “He would just… say things,” she finished.

Silence.

Then in a tone that was far quieter, dangerously quiet, Douglas pressed, “Say things?”

“Yes, things. Stupid things. Hateful things. Just things meant to hurt me. They were just words and it was silly of me to give them power.”

Again, he was silent and she felt it sounded foolish even to her own ears.

“He was mean, a bully,” she explained, exasperated with herself at the memory of how she was so weak, and further angry at herself for letting those long ago memories tear at her insides now. “He just wanted me to feel small so he could be the big man. I shouldn’t have let it affect me but I loved him and wanted him to love me, so I did. Let it affect me, that is. It was… he meant to… it just…”

She didn’t know how to explain it to a powerful, rich, fit, tall, famous man who probably never felt small in his whole life. She couldn’t put into words how, day-by-day, Sean would methodically strip her of her sense of humour, sense of fun, sense of self until he shredded her confidence and made her a quivering wreck. He never stopped and she was always scared of him, scared of what he would say and do, scared to do anything to cause his displeasure. She became scared of what others felt about her and wondering if they saw all the same ugly things Sean seemed to see. She had to build a wall of bravado around her simply so she could function.

Then, of course, there was the long and difficult journey to find herself again when Sean was finally gone.

“Hurt,” she finished and her voice betrayed vividly in that one word just how destructive Sean had been.

Douglas walked forward again and Julia had no place to retreat so she held her ground.

“And what did your brother do about this?” he asked, his tone still quiet, the menace somehow gone but that didn’t make her less frightened. If anything, she was more so because now his quiet tone was also, shockingly, gentle.

He looked down on her; he was so close she could feel the heat from his body. She ignored it and pressed on and she did this in an effort to finish this discussion and move on.

“Well,” she hesitated, staring in his expressionless face, “after the divorce, he waited, of course, until I’d ended it, I think… I don’t know, but I think that Gavin arranged for Sean to have an accident.”

Douglas went very still and she rushed on, “I have no way of knowing if he did it but the police said it was suspicious, the accident. They interviewed me a couple of times, thinking I might have had something to do with it, but they never could prove anything. Gavin was so angry, he hated Sean anyway and when I told him some of the things Sean had said. Well… once, when I was in high school, some boys were talking about me, saying nasty things and Gavin took them on, all five of them. They eventually beat the hell out of Gavin but he did a good deal of damage before they overcame him and, after that, the talk stopped. It was known from then on that I was Gavin Fairfax’s sister and no one was to mess with me. It played havoc with my social life, let me tell you.” It was a lame joke but she was trying to lighten the very heavy mood.

Douglas’s face was no longer blank and he was not amused by her joke. His look was now strangely intense (or more intense than was normal with Douglas) as he stared down at her and she had to tilt her head back to look at him.

She found she was holding her breath.

“So you think, because Webster ‘messed with you’, Gavin arranged for him to have an accident?” he asked, his voice deceptively calm but underlying it there was hint of an emotion Julia could not put her finger on.

“Yes. I don’t know, maybe. It’s not entirely out of character for Gavin. He seemed very easygoing but you didn’t mess with someone he loved. What the police said, it sounded bad. Sean wasn’t beloved by all, so it could have been others, but Gavin could be, well, he protected Mom and me our whole lives as the man of the family after our father left, even when he was a little boy. So I wouldn’t put it past him to protect me like that, get vengeance for me. Sean wasn’t hurt too badly, he survived. It was just a warning.” She hoped to make it seem not as bad as it sounded. “We’re close,” she went on. “It was only the three of us, we all took care of each other. So, Gavin took care of me and now… now I’m taking care of his children,” she finished on a shrug and hoped he understood. She wanted desperately to get away from him, wanted to escape his bizarre intensity, wanted to stop talking about Sean.

“Gavin didn’t arrange for Webster to have an accident,” Douglas announced firmly, surprising her with his words.

“How do you know?”

“Because I did,” he told her bluntly without a hint of hesitation.

Julia gasped and her eyes rounded in disbelief.

Then she cried, “What?”

“He was an ass,” was all he said to explain.

She stared at him, stunned, then whispered, “You? You did it?”

“I may do it again,” he muttered as if to himself.

“But why? Why did you do it?” She ignored his last comment.

“He was an ass,” Douglas repeated.

“Did Gavin ask you to?”

“No.”

Then it dawned on her.

“Tamsin,” she breathed.

He moved closer to her but she didn’t notice. She was too astounded by his incredible announcement.

“She told me,” Julia explained, “long after Sean was gone. She told me he made a pass at her, a rather unpleasant pass. She told you too, didn’t she?”

It was then Julia realised how close he was to her. If she moved, her breasts would brush against his chest. She started to feel a rising panic, both because of his unpredictable mood and of her body’s acute response to his closeness.

“What would he say to you?” he asked, abruptly changing the subject and she faltered.

“What?” she blinked, not following.

“Webster. What would he say to you?”

“Why do you want to know?”

And why did he want to know? Not only was it none of his business but she couldn’t imagine he’d care.

“Just tell me,” he demanded.

“I don’t want to, I don’t like thinking about it.”

To her further shock, his hands came up, both of them. Gently resting on either side of her jaw, he held her face and Julia’s body went still.

Douglas rarely touched her, he rarely touched anyone, and he’d certainly never touched her like this.

“Tell me.” His voice was now cajoling, his face close. She couldn’t keep up with him, the ominous Douglas, the gentle Douglas, the fierce Douglas, the coaxing Douglas, when it always used to be just… Douglas.

God, her head was spinning with it.

She took a shaky breath and then another one to calm down.

Maybe if she explained, he’d trust her. Maybe he’d finish this idiot game and they could live in some kind of détente, he would leave her alone and they could simply raise the children. Maybe if he understood her and her bond with Gavin a little bit (even though she doubted he had a like bond with anyone), he’d give her the benefit of the doubt. And maybe, if she told him, he’d move away from her so she could think straight, get control of her emotions and her body, which were both betraying her. Her stomach was warm and melty and that feeling was travelling relentlessly south.

“It was crazy, he was insane,” she said on a quiet rush. “I couldn’t do anything right. He didn’t like the way I dressed, he didn’t like how I styled my hair. I ate too much, talked too much or said stupid things. We’d have a dinner party and he’d yell at me about how I prepared the dessert. I’d go to the grocery store and I didn’t buy the right kind of coffee even though it was the coffee he’d always liked. I don’t know, it was everything and it was nothing.” His thumbs were now gently stroking her jaw, she felt his touch vibrantly and she bit her lip to try not to react to it. “It doesn’t matter now,” she whispered. “It was a long time ago.”

“He was a fool,” Douglas murmured and his words caused the melty feeling to radiate throughout her entire body.

“He was a lot of things,” Julia agreed, her voice shaky. “Now could you –?”

“How did you feel?” he interrupted her. “About the accident?”

“I…” Now that she knew he was behind it, what could she say? It scared her that he was capable of it but she’d accepted it from Gavin, even though she never really knew for sure. He was only doing the same for his own sister. But understanding he was capable of that type of violence, violence he inflicted on behalf of his sister, it drew her and repelled her at the same time.

“I was beyond caring at that point,” she lied. She wasn’t beyond caring then and she wasn’t beyond caring now.

She had felt a guilty satisfaction that Sean had a modicum of pain, that maybe someone somewhere had wanted to hurt him and did. As much as she knew it was wrong, she also knew that something had long since died in her, something Sean killed, a hope for a life of love and happiness spent with a wonderful man. Because of that, Julia felt somewhere, in the deepest, darkest regions of her heart, that Sean deserved it.

One thumb moved from her jaw, to slide gently across her bottom lip, in doing so making her lip tingle. Douglas’s face was completely illuminated by the moon and she watched as his eyes followed his movement and she trembled, a delicious feeling she could not control moving through her body as her thoughts ravaged her mind.

“And now?” he asked, sounding like he very much cared about her answer.

“Now?” Julia whispered.

“Yes. Now. How do you feel?”

“You mean, now that I know you did it?” she inquired, her teeth bit her bottom lip again to stop it from trembling and she accidentally nipped his thumb. She just stopped herself from apologising but he ignored it except his eyes moved back to her mouth, his gaze directed there making both her lips tingle.

With his hands holding her face, she couldn’t look away and he didn’t answer her question.

“You wasted your energy. Sean wasn’t worth it,” she replied, trying to make her tone hard to change the mood.

Although her words were true, how she really felt was floored. Mostly because he was so nonchalant about it, being responsible for another person’s misfortune. But also the depth of feeling such an act showed that he had for his sister, she didn’t know Douglas had that depth of feeling in him for anyone.

“Julia.” His tone held a gentle warning that said he didn’t believe her.

She closed her eyes and licked her lips, pressing them together. Then, for reasons unknown to her, she whispered her darkest secret, “He wasn’t worth it but he deserved it.”

Douglas’s only response was to tighten his hands on her jaw and she felt somehow that response, however slight, was significant.

“And have you recovered from his behaviour?” His soft words caused her eyes to flutter open.

She stared at him, wondering what this was all about and tiring of true confessions.

Enough, she thought, really was enough.

“Why do you want to know this?” she asked, her voice sounding slightly curt.

“Just answer me.”

“No. Okay? No,” she snapped, tore her head away from his hands and leaned away from him, arching her back against the desk to do so. “I haven’t recovered. You don’t recover from something like that. I learned my lesson. I’m better off without him, without anyone,” she admitted with rancour.

“I see. This is why you didn’t remarry.”

“Yes,” Julia replied, exposing bitterness deep in that one word. “This”, how he put it, was why she didn’t do anything since Sean, no boyfriends, no lovers, no nothing. Sean had worked hard to teach her a lesson about men and added to that was her father’s betrayal of her mother. Between the two of them, she learned that lesson well. There were very few Gavin Fairfaxes in the world, indeed, only one and he’d been her brother and now he was gone.

Again, they were in territory that was none of his business and it was decidedly ticking… her… off.

“If you must know, and apparently you do, yes,” she informed him. “I won’t remarry and if by some miracle I do, it will be to a pudgy, short, bald man who worships the ground I walk on and doesn’t mind cleaning the bathroom.”

With that statement, Douglas threw back his head and roared with laughter as if this situation was of such comedic proportions as to delight all mankind.

This shocked her so much, Julia jumped.

Firstly, it was not an amusing moment and secondly, she’d never heard him laugh.

Perhaps a chuckle here and there but out and out laughter?

Never.

When he was finished he leaned into her and she was forced to arch further away. She couldn’t escape him, however, because, to her disbelief, his arms slid around her and he pulled her into his body.

“Douglas,” her voice was low, her pulse leaping madly, “what are you doing?”

“I’m going to kiss you,” he replied evenly as if this was the most natural thing in the world. As if he hadn’t just gone from accusing her of whatever it was he was accusing her of to demanding she bare her most personal, painful and illicit secrets.

His breath smelled pleasantly of whisky and his hard body warmed her and that was a heady combination.

“Oh no you aren’t.” She shook her head, tried to twist her body away and pushed against his chest all at the same time. These actions had no result except his arms tightened.

“Yes,” he whispered, his head was descending, “I am.”

With superhuman effort, she pulled free and slid to the side, retreating by walking backwards towards the door.

“Listen,” she pleaded, “I don’t know what game you’re playing but I don’t want to play it with you. I’ve got enough to worry about without you doing… whatever it is you’re doing. So can you just stop it and let me be?”

“No,” was his answer and he followed her, advancing as she retreated.

“Why?” Julia cried, her voice rising. “Why on earth are you doing this?” Then she stopped and squared up against him, aggravated beyond caring. “It’s unnecessary. I’m not a gold-digging, crazy woman, okay? I’m just going to raise those kids, get a job, live my life and when Ruby moves on, I’m going to go away. That’s it. Period. The end. I don’t have my eyes on your fortune. I’m just here to grant my brother’s dying wish and I don’t need you making it more difficult for me than it already is.”

He’d stopped too but he didn’t say a word.

“Okay?” she prompted on a near shout.

“No,” he said again.

“Why?” she threw her hands up in agitation. “What are you getting out of this?”

She asked and she really wanted to know. He started walking towards her again and Julia started retreating again, step for step. What he didn’t do was answer.

“Okay, play your games.” She gave in but she did it with her heart beating faster. “See if I care, I’m going to bed,” she announced to finish and turned to walk away.

“Excellent idea,” he returned immediately, his insinuation as shocking as it was clear.

“Alone!” she spat over her shoulder.

“Julia, we need to talk.”

“Not now we don’t and I’m not sure we ever do!” She whirled around and faced him. “I’m fed up with you lot. You leave me with your mother who has all the warmth of a Siberian winter. You don’t call. You don’t give a good goddamn about those children. You show up accusing me of… whatever,” she threw one arm out, dramatically, “you kiss me for no reason, stalk me around your study. Fine, okay, I get it. I’m some kind of game to you. Apparently your life is so boring you’ve run out of challenges so you have to play with humans in order to find amusement. Go for it. See if I care. You obviously don’t know how stubborn I am so have at it. You won’t win.”

And with that, Julia turned to leave.

“I think I will,” Douglas said to her back.

“Think again, I’m a lot stronger than I look,” she announced as she made her way to the door, hoping she was right. “If I can take on an asshole like Sean and emerge unscathed… well, virtually so, then you’re a pussycat.”

“I wouldn’t underestimate me,” he warned.

She thought of something, stopped at the door, turned back to face him and put her chin up.

“One rule,” Julia declared.

“No rules,” Douglas replied.

“One rule,” she ignored him, “whatever it is you’re after, you don’t drag the children into it.”

He didn’t even think, just inclined his arrogant head in agreement.

“Good. Let the games begin,” she declared sarcastically.

And before he could reply, she left, trying not to look like she was fleeing. Her heart was racing, her head was aching and she was scared to death. As she walked, she felt the arctic draught around her feet and looked down.

It wasn’t an invisible draught this time but looked like wisps of fog gathering around her ankles. She picked up the pace but it stayed with her, detached from her ankles and floated ahead. Julia watched in dread as it approached her bedroom door but then it slid past, towards the chapel, disappearing around the corner. She ran into her room, slammed the door and, for good measure, threw the bolt home.

“Dear Lord, what have I gotten myself into?” she asked the room.

The scratching at the window was her only reply.