Sommersgate House (Ghosts and Reincarnation #2)(59)



She pulled herself up, one hand on the floor, the other on his chest and saw through the darkness it was Douglas.

“What the hell… are you… doing?” he asked, his voice winded and irate.

“A ghost. I saw the ghost of The Mistress. In my room!” She was lying fully on top of him but she was looking back over her shoulder.

She felt hands grab her waist tightly and she was flipped expertly on her back, this time Douglas on top.

“What are you doing?” she cried hysterically from her new, unexpected position.

“I need to… breathe,” he forced out and took a deep breath and then a second one. “You knocked the wind out of me and your weight wasn’t helping.”

“I saw the ghost of The Mistress,” Julia repeated, looking up into his shadowed face and ignoring his justified complaints because, well… there a haunting was afoot!

“There is no ghost of The Mistress, it’s just a myth,” Douglas replied calmly, his breath returned to normal.

“I saw her,” Julia snapped in the face of his calm, slapping his bicep with her hand to express her annoyance (and also anxiety). “She formed from a mist, right in my room!”

He looked over his shoulder then back at her. “No ghost and no mist,” he declared.

Tentatively, Julia lifted her head to look over his shoulder, grabbing them both with her hands for leverage. Like Douglas, she saw nothing.

“I swear I saw her,” she whispered unsteadily, lowering her back to the ground.

“You’re drunk.”

“I am not drunk!” she hissed (even though she kind of was) as she let go of his shoulders and slapped his bicep again.

“The Mistress doesn’t show herself anyway. She’s always just there.”

Her eyes rounded at his words. “You know about this? The draughts, the whispers… the screams?” she asked him, her tone accusatory, as it bloody well should be.

“Of course, I’ve lived here all my life,” Douglas answered. “I’ve never seen it, felt it or heard it but I know about it.”

Julia gasped then snapped, “That first night I was here, you made me think I was a crazy person.”

“If you believe in ghosts, you are a crazy person,” he replied.

She started to squirm out from under him but he pulled her back.

“Let me up,” she demanded.

He hesitated only a moment then knifed away from her, lithely got to his feet and bent over, grabbed her hand and pulled her effortlessly to her own.

“I take back my apology,” she informed him angrily. “You’re a jerk.”

She couldn’t see his smile but she heard it in his voice. “And you’re mad.”

“I know what I saw,” she told him haughtily.

“Would you like to show me?”

“I can’t go back there!” Her voice was edgy with fear and she didn’t care one whit. “Maybe she’s waiting.”

“You could come with me to my room,” he suggested smoothly. “The inn’s full tonight, but I have a big bed, plenty of room for the both of us.”

“You’re impossible,” she hissed in return.

“And you’re adorable,” he replied instantly, his tone warm and teasing.

Julia gaped because Douglas Ashton had just called her adorable.

Not to mention Douglas playful and warm and teasing, all in one night? It was too much to take. And, try as she might, she couldn’t stop the warm tingles that his easy, sweet compliment gave her.

“Fine, I’ll go back,” she announced and walked by him, deciding her best bet was to ignore the whole thing but when he didn’t move she turned back and demanded, “Well? Are you coming?”

“Are you inviting me to your room?” he returned.

“Of course, you have to make sure it’s safe.”

“Protect you from a ghost?” he asked incredulously and she was certain, even though she couldn’t see it, he’d raised that damned brow.

“Yes!”

He regarded her for a moment then chuckled but did not move.

She sighed angrily.

“Well?” she prompted.

He hesitated only briefly.

“Lead on fair damsel,” Douglas muttered, Julia saw his shadowed arm gesture for her to move forward and she was too frightened to utter another angry rejoinder. She walked on and, at her door, she stopped.

“You go first,” she whispered.

He spared her a glance then walked through and surveyed the room while she stayed at the door.

“No ghosts,” he called to her.

“Did you check by the window?” she called back.

“Julia,” he replied with patience that was strained but in an amused way, “there are no ghosts in your room.”

She walked in hesitantly and when she saw the room was clear of spooky spectres, she moved around in order to turn on every light she could all the while he watched her. She was trembling and edgy and expected to see the apparition at any moment.

When she got near Douglas, he caught her arm with his hand to stop her and he dipped his head to look closely at her.

“You really are frightened,” he stated softly.

“I told you!” she cried. “I saw it! She was standing… floating… forming, whatever! Right over there!” Julia pointed at the corner. “And what’s more, The Master scratches at the window every night. I hear him and I saw him once too.”

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