"What happened to you then?"
He couldn't believe that he was actually conversing with her as if she were Elise, but more importantly, he couldn't fathom that some part of him believed that in some way, in that moment, she was Elise.
"I was betrayed by my lover and please don't be trite by asking which one, for I shan't tell you."
"Do you not want to see him brought to justice?"
She turned, her hands tracing a sensuous path over her breasts, her nipples peaked from the cold. “She's lovely, this new wife of yours."
Cold fury swept through him. “Stop toying with me, Elise. And stop toying with Emme."
She laughed and the sound was so familiar it made his blood run cold. “Very well, I'll behave. I can't tell you who he was, because if I did, then I would be giving you something you wanted—justice for your poor dead sister!"
"You would deprive yourself of justice for that reason?"
"Not deprive myself, so much as make you work for it,” she said, and leaned recklessly against the window. “You'll get what you want, Rhys, but even in death, I won't make it easy for you."
In that instant, she was gone. The tension left Emme's face and she collapsed. Rhys moved forward quickly and caught her before she struck her head, but the stone floor scraped her flesh nonetheless.
She opened her eyes again. “Should I even ask what I'm doing here?"
He shook his head. “It was Elise. I think she enjoys using you to toy with me."
It took several moments for Emme to fully comprehend what he'd said. Only after she'd fully returned to her senses she recognized that he'd spoken with a certainty that was far different from the skepticism which usually greeted any talk of her abilities. “No doubts, Rhys? No equivocations now? You believe?"
He chuckled, but it was a self-deprecating laugh and she could hear the tension in his voice, “I'm a convert, darling.” He helped her up and slipped her dressing gown onto her shoulders. “I think you're going to have to begin wearing night rails, much to my dismay."
They went back to their room, and as Emme climbed into the bed Rhys carefully locked the door and slid the key into the pocket of his dressing gown. The cold threats that Elise had issued were not far from his mind. He would do whatever was necessary to find the killer and when it was done he would see her spirit banished from the house. If he had to bring in the Archbishop of Canterbury himself, her spirit would depart and he and Emme would have peace.
He climbed into the bed and pulled her against him, pressing her body close to his. He had feelings for her that he dared not examine too closely. It was enough to acknowledge that they existed without putting a name to them. She was his, and he would protect her from all threats, worldly and otherworldly.
He didn't sleep, but kept watch on her as she rested, safe in his arms.
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Chapter Twelve
Over breakfast the following morning Rhys considered how to proceed. Elise had written of her sexual exploits in great detail, save for the names of her many lovers. She'd used initials or nicknames. He'd finished reading the journal the previous night while Emme had slumbered beside him. He'd been hesitant to sleep, afraid that she would have another episode. Episode, he thought bitterly, as he sipped his coffee. It wasn't as if she had become ill or was having fits of some sort. When he'd confronted her in the tower, in that moment, she had not been Emmaline. Elise had been inside her, controlling her, using her. He couldn't risk Elise's spite. The panic he'd felt the night before was proof of that.
Lady Eleanor entered the room, looked at both of them, and then with a haughty lift of her chin showed both of them that she held firm in her disapproval. After filling her plate she seated herself at the table. She sipped her tea and then unleashed her venomous tongue. “I had understood that you would be remaining in London for several weeks in order to introduce your new bride to society."
With a heavy sigh, filled with his frustration, Rhys replied, “We went to London to meet with Emme's family and soothe any unpleasantness on that front. As for gossip, and society, at this point, I couldn't care less,” he finished coolly.
Sensing that a disagreement was in the offing, Emme rose. “I think I'll go and have a visit with Lady Phyllis."
Rhys nodded, “I think that is a fine idea."
When Emme had left the room Eleanor looked back at him. “She'll never make a proper duchess."
His voice was cold when he spoke. “Eleanor, when I was younger, I tolerated your interference and your criticisms and allowed you to push me toward Elise against my own better judgment. There could be no more improper duchess than she, spreading her thighs for the lowest of servants, and every peer she met who was willing to accommodate her."