The Haunting of a Duke(79)

Eleanor gave a slight nod of acknowledgement but all of her attention was focused on Alistair. The fawning and preening from dinner the night before continued. Alistair, on the other hand, looked sullen. His face was bloated and his eyes were bleary, but next to Pommeroy, he looked the picture of health.

He didn't fill his plate but poured himself coffee instead. As she watched, he slipped a silver flask from his pocket and poured a copious amount of liquid into his cup and into Pommeroy's as well. Everyone else at the table was aware of the tableaux but discreetly remained silent.

Michael attempted to engage them in conversation, but Eleanor only had interest in her son and Alistair had interest only in his liberally enhanced coffee. Pommeroy looked ready to cast up his accounts on the breakfast table.

Rhys was still tense and angry and Emme found the situation to be exhausting. She pushed her plate away and stood. Dutifully, the gentlemen rose to their feet, as well, their manners ingrained in them since birth. Rhys finally spoke.

"I shall see you this afternoon."

Emme nodded but didn't reply. She made her excuses to the rest of the group and escaped to the morning room.

She used the time to write a letter to her mother and to Larissa. She wrote to them that she was expecting a child, finding that informing others made it seem more real. She did not include anything of her quarrel with Rhys though she wished fervently that she had someone to talk to. She missed having Larissa close by, though what she was currently experiencing was far beyond her sister's scope. They had always been one another's confidantes. They'd shared so many secrets, and she wished desperately to be able to confide in her sister.

Shaking her head to clear it of her maudlin thoughts, she refocused her attention on the letter she was penning to her Aunt Isabella.

It was a letter of duty and lacked warmth, but she would send it just the same. She had just finished pressing her seal into the warm wax when she looked up and saw Melisande outside in the garden.

She rose from the desk and unlocked the French doors that led to the garden. The air was chilled and she'd left her shawl upstairs, but there was no time to get it. She approached the girl in the same spot where she'd first encountered her, near the statue of Venus.

She sat on the ground, plucking at the grass and she appeared to be deep in thought. She looked up when Emme neared her, and her eyes were solemn. “I made Michael very sad,” she said. “But I didn't mean to."

It was the only time that Emme had ever heard Melisande sound like a child. Normally when she spoke she sounded like an adult.

Wanting to comfort her, Emme settled herself on the bench and asked, “Why do you think that?"

Melisande didn't look up, but kept her gaze focused on the ground in front of her. Her voice was tearful as she spoke. “Because you have seen me and Rhys has seen me, but he hasn't."

Emme sighed. “Why have you not showed yourself?"

"I've tried to make him see me but he never does. But he feels me when I am there, and that makes him sadder."

"Why can't he see you, Melisande? I've encountered many spirits, but I have never seen one so clearly as you. You are so strong."

She met Emme's gaze, and her green eyes shimmered with tears she was unable to shed. “It doesn't work that way. I can't just appear to anyone. There has to be a reason. It isn't time for him to see me yet. He will see me when he needs to."

"Perhaps I could tell him that for you?"

Melisande didn't answer. Her gaze had grown cautious and she looked around the garden almost fearfully. “He's been here, the monster. He comes back here all the time. But just as Michael cannot see me, I cannot see the monster. I feel his presence, I feel his darkness, but his face is hidden from me."

"Why does he return? Can you see that?"

"There are clues, Emme, in the journal that Michael brought. And as for why he comes back, he left things behind, as did Elise. They tell the story."

"Are you lonely here, Melisande?"

"I am always near the ones I love, but they never know, or see me. Until Rhys, that is and he only saw me because of you, because you made him believe."

"Will you be able to talk to him again?"

She shook her head. “It isn't like with you. I can talk to you whenever I want, but with everyone else there must be a reason. Perhaps because he has seen me once he will be able to again, but I do not know."

Emme started to speak, but was distracted by a gust of wind rattling the dry tree branches. She glanced up, and when she glanced back toward Melisande she was gone. With a weary sigh, she rose and headed toward the house again. As she approached the French doors, Lord Pommeroy came into view in the doorway.