Lord Melvedere's Ghost by Rebecca King Page A

would inevitably find herself cast out into the cold
again.
    There
was really only one option open to her. The possibility of
returning home was immediately dismissed and ignored as improbable.
Even if her father had been up to nothing and had been investigated
merely because he was a businessman in Tissington, she had no
intention of ever being forced into marriage to an old man twice
her age, or resuming her life of servitude for her father. Portia
was heaven knew where and, if Archie’s dedication was as determined
as it appeared, her sister’s future had already been decided upon.
She couldn’t prevail upon Portia and Archie as
newlyweds.
    Feeling
more alone than ever, Cecily sat staring morosely down into the
stream, watching the water tumble gently past her booted feet.
Basil flopped down beside her panting heavily, but seemingly
content to simply go to sleep again.
    “ I have been looking for you.”
    The
deep, husky baritone coming from somewhere behind her made Cecily
jump, and she whirled around with a squeak of surprise.
    Jamie
was standing nonchalantly leaning against the tree directly behind
her.
    “ I didn’t hear you.”
    “ You were lost in thought,” Jamie murmured, glancing down at
Basil in disgust. “Not much of a guard dog, is he?”
    “ He is lovely,” Cecily defended, sitting back on the rock in an
attempt to ignore him. She was dirty, unkempt and miserable, while
he was clean-shaven, freshly bathed and dressed to perfection.
Jamie was clearly a man who was very much in control of his life
and his estate, and knew it. His boots alone probably cost more
than her father made in an entire year. The difference between them
was so markedly profound that Cecily wished she was somewhere else,
with anyone else, and knew then what she had to do.
    Tipping
her chin upright, she turned to look at him when he came to sit on
another stone a few feet away.
    “ How long am I going to be confined here?”
    “ Confined?” Jamie scoffed, glancing at her in shock. “You are
not under house arrest.”
    “ Am I not?” One elegant brow arched in silent query. “Why does
it feel as though I am?”
    “ I am sorry if the staff have not looked after you very well. I
will have a word with them.”
    “ They think I am your mistress of the week.”
    Stilted
silence settled around them. Cecily immediately regretted her
outburst. The physical differences between them were enough to
discredit her last statement, even if she could ignore the shocked
look on his face.
    “ Who said that to you?”
    “ Does it matter? You and I both know it is ridiculous, but the
staff seemed to think I am here as more than a guest.”
    Jamie
lapsed into thoughtful silence. In reality, she was there as more
than a guest, but he had no idea how the staff had picked up on his
intentions given he had never discussed them with anyone. Did they
really think he had brought her here to be his mistress? For the
week, was it? Turning toward her in consternation, he studied the
discomfort on her face and immediately regretted spending most of
the day locked in the study, making plans with Jonathan. He should
have spent a bit of time with her, or even shown her around the
house himself. But his work with the Star Elite was at a critical
stage, and he couldn’t ignore the possible criminal activities of
her father. The sooner everything was brought to a conclusion, the
quicker everyone could get on with their lives, and England would
be one step closer to becoming a safer place.
    Still,
it appeared he had gotten off on the wrong foot with Cecily, and he
was at a loss to know how to put it right.
    “ You haven’t answered me,” Cecily chided him after several
moments of silence. “How long am I going to be here?”
    “ For as long as you need to be, Cecily,” Jamie replied. “Why,
do you need to be somewhere important?”
    “ I just cannot remain here relying on your hospitality. Portia
is out there being subjected to heaven knows what, and