Nina Coombs Pykare by Dangerous Decision Page A

into her pocket, pushing the scrap safely down before she withdrew her handkerchief. “Why should a ghost want to harm me?” she asked, wiping the mortar dust from her hands. “I have done nothing to hurt anyone. Nothing at all.”
    The viscount sobered and gazed speculatively toward the sea. “Who’s to say? Perhaps Catherine—her ghost—thinks you are taking her children away from her. Remember, she has cursed all young women who set foot in the castle. Perhaps she has other reasons. I doubt if ghosts need to be rational.”
    Edwina shook her head, but she couldn’t quite keep the cold shivers from scampering over her, turning her flesh clammy even in the warm sunshine. “From all I hear Lady Catherine was a kind gentle person. Surely she wouldn’t want to harm her children. Surely she would want them to be well cared for.”
    The viscount shook his head, his eyes sad. “I’m afraid there is no accounting for ghosts.” He gestured around him. “This was her favorite place to walk of an evening, you know. She adored looking out over the countryside.”
    Edwina nodded. “But that story of the earl’s mother-- Did she fall from here, too?”
    The viscount nodded. “Yes, but Catherine thought that was only an accident—until she started to hear the voices.”
    Edwina stiffened. “Voices? She actually heard voices?”
    His face sober, the viscount nodded. “That’s what she said. She said they called to her.”
    Another shiver ran over Edwina’s flesh. Ghosts might call to people—given the possibility that there were ghosts. But she wasn’t going to believe that ghosts were calling to people here. Surely spirits didn’t leave pieces of their clothing behind when they went after people. Surely spirits didn’t wear clothing that could get caught on sharp stones.
    She turned back toward the door, her heart pounding. She wanted to be alone, she wanted to see what she had hidden in her pocket. “I must go to the girls,” she said. “We must begin lessons today.”
    A peculiar look crossed the viscount’s face and he took a step toward her. “You’re a very attractive young women,” he said, his voice gone husky.
     

Chapter Eleven
     
    Abruptly she was aware of the desire glowing in the viscount’s eyes. She had seen such desire more than once in the eyes of other men, but none of them had appealed to her as this man did. And now, because of her need to look at the parapet she had put herself in a position that could be dangerous.
    Stiffly she drew herself up. “You forget yourself, milord. But I shall pay it no heed. It’s just that you have been so long away from London that any young woman looks attractive to you.”
    A pained look crossed his handsome features. “You’re being most unkind to me,” he said plaintively. “Most unfair, too. You are constantly here and constantly beautiful, and you condemn me for speaking the truth about it.”
    He took another step toward her and she felt her breathing quicken. There was no denying she was attracted to him, but she simply had to keep her wits about her. Flattering phrases couldn’t keep a young woman from scandal. In fact, they more often led to it. She knew that. She had to remember it.
    “I believe, milord,” she said, “that it is you who seek my company. I have only been about my business as governess.”
    He shook his head. By now he was close to her and she was uncomfortably aware that he stood between her and the stairway door. How foolish she’d been to let herself get in such a position. She was usually so sensible, knowing better than to court danger. It was just that so much had happened, so much she couldn’t understand. She could understand the viscount, though. Lords like him abounded. In London—and elsewhere.
    “I cannot help it that I’m drawn to you,” he went on, giving her a languishing glance. “You’re like honey to a hungry fly.”
    She allowed herself a small smile. If they were going to talk in metaphors