O Night Divine A Holiday Collection of Spirited Christmas Tales - Kathryn Le Veque Page 0,71

he was still there, still not answering. For some reason, she thought he was ashamed, and another terrible possibility came to her.

“Oh, God, you did not…?”

“Kill myself?” he finished indignantly. Oh, yes, this was Selim. “Of course, I did not!”

The question died in her throat. She did not need to distress him with such a question. Joe would know. Wary of being teased, when she was all but engaged to another man, she had not yet asked her brother about Selim.

She said, “Joe told me you were reconciled with your cousin, the Sultan.”

“Up to a point, and that was more Joe’s doing than mine.”

“He said you now worked all over the world for the Sultan’s interests.”

“But he would not let me come home.”

Did the ghost move there? Was he floating away?

Apparently not. “Why are you out here alone and sad on Christmas Eve?” he asked.

A new wonder came to her. “Is that why you came? Did you know I was sad?”

A breath of air touched her cheek, almost like a caress. He said, “I suppose I must have. Something drew me here to you. Why are you sad?”

She shook her head. “Because I don’t know whether to marry Lord Davitt. And because I was angry with Alice for no reason when she needs comfort, not sharp words. Because I’m not a child anymore, and I don’t know if I shall ever spend another Christmas at Brightoaks. And none of that matters because you are dead.”

“Oh, my dear, of course it matters,” he said with such tenderness that she wanted to fall into his arms, which could never hold her. “Do you love this lord?”

“I don’t know. I could not see him with me at Christmas. But perhaps I could, in time.”

“If you don’t love him yet, don’t do it yet.”

She smiled ruefully. “Roberta says life will pass me by with such an attitude.”

“And what does Hazel say?”

“Nothing,” Emma admitted.

“And who is Alice?”

“One of the housemaids. I have known her forever. We played together as children before we realized one of us would be a servant and the other a lady. Sometimes, we still forget. We both say more than we should.”

“But if you are such old friends, she will forgive you. And if she needs help, you will give it. This was not your only chance.”

A wave of grief and despair threatened to overwhelm her. “Life is all about chances,” she whispered. “And we let ours go by, you and I. I always thought there would be time, that one day you would leap back into my life and find me worthy enough to…”

“Worthy?” The word seemed to pierce the mist, echoing off the house and sounding more like a god than a mere shade. “Of a homeless, exiled husband? My dear, you could always do better!”

She stared through the mist. If she walked over and touched him, would he just vanish? Or would she feel wrapped in him, surrounded by him in warmth and comfort?

She swallowed. “Is that why you didn’t come back? Because you had no home? Or because I was never more than an amusing child, the little sister of your friend?”

She thought it was one of the questions he would not answer. The silence stretched between them like an invisible thread with as much substance as whatever held his spirit to the earth.

“I gave you time to grow up, to meet and love a better man of your own people. I gave myself time to forget a girl more than a decade younger. And time to win back my standing in the world.”

“And time betrayed us,” she whispered. She took an impulsive step nearer.

“Emma?” came a sudden voice from the room behind her. Joe’s voice, urgent and concerned.

She swung around to face him.

“What are you doing out there? You’ll freeze to death. The room is already like an ice house.”

“Joe, I—” She turned back to face Selim’s ghost, but it had vanished, dispersed into the air. Perhaps his soul had even returned to the heavens, for the star winked at her once more from the place she had first seen it.

A sob racked her body as Joe flung one arm around her and drew her back inside, firmly closing the doors behind them.

She clung to him. “Oh, Joe, I am so sorry! Why did you not tell me about Selim?”

He said nothing, although his hand on her hair stilled. And she knew he did not want to talk about it, and neither did she, not yet.