Haunted by Heather Graham Page B

wonderful dinner. Thank you all very much. I’ve just realized how late it has gotten. If you’ll forgive me, I think I’ll turn in for the night.”
    Matt, Carter, and Clint stood as one. A certain amount of courtesy seemed to have been bred into these men; it was as natural as breathing.
    â€œYou’ll be fine,” Carter told her. “I’ve slept in the Lee room. And I’m still here.”
    â€œHe didn’t even run down the stairs naked,” Clint said with a wink.
    â€œThank the good Lord for that!” Penny breathed.
    â€œHey!” Carter protested. “I look good naked.”
    Darcy laughed softly. “Well, I imagine I’ll be all right.”
    She was startled to see that Matt looked just a little concerned. “I’m in the house tonight, if there is any trouble, just scream.”
    â€œAh, but you don’t believe in ghosts!” Darcy reminded him.
    He shrugged. “I believe in the power of men to do evil,” he murmured. For a moment, his strange deep gray eyes fell on hers. “I’ll be down the hall.”
    She nodded, bid them good-night, and headed out of the dining room and for the stairs to the second floor. She walked slowly, thinking it somewhat amazing that Matt Stone couldn’t feel a thing regarding his house. Penny had asked about vibes. The house throbbed with them. Gentle, lost souls for the most part.
    The only malice seemed to come from the Lee Room.
    Upstairs, she decided on a quick shower, then brushed her teeth, and prepared for bed.
    The room was cool, cooler than it should have been in summer. She ignored it, and the feeling of being watched.
    She crawled into bed, somewhat exhausted. She fell asleep with the television on, watching a program on the history of Britain.
    Deep into the night, she began to dream. She was herself, sleeping upon the bed, and yet she was not, for she moved, and moved within another persona. Fear clutched the heart of her sleeping self for a moment, for from the moment she felt the coming of the Other, she sensed the anger, a fury that was deep and dangerous. And then…
    She was the Other, seeing, feeling, knowing everything he did.
    A woman scorned…was a deadly one.
    He came in deep thought and silence that evening, angry, but not at all sure, in his conscious mind, just what he intended. In the darkness, he stared at the house, and reflected on all that had been, and all that might come to pass.
    The house…the majestic house sat as always. A place with as rich and deep a character as any living person. So it had been from the moment they had first broken ground. Time did nothing but add to the drama that must exist in such a place, as he well knew.
    She was there.
    He knew that she was there.
    And there were things that must be said. Things that must be cleared, or ended, between them.
    Still…
    He stared at the house. And waited. He denied in his mind that he had come with any malice as to his intent.
    His heart felt like stone. Seeds of ideas played deep down within his soul, truth and the physical essence of what must be banned from thought. What happened must happen.
    At his sides, his hands flexed, eased, and flexed again, as if already slipping around the throat of the lover he knew to be inside.
    Because a woman scorned…
    Just might as well be dead.
    Â 
    Darcy awoke with a start, shaking. She had felt the past, as if it had entered into her. Felt not so much a person, but the fury and malevolence that had been part of a distant time.
    She sat up in bed, and looked around the room, closed her eyes again, and opened them.
    Whatever had been with her, whatever remnant of emotion, was gone.
    And yet…
    Something else was there.
    Something, someone, quiet, stealthy.
    Watching.
    Waiting.

4
    â€œW e all know why we’ve come.” Elizabeth Holmes’ voice, though feminine, had a deep resonance. She wasn’t exactly what Darcy had been expecting