Wicked Liaison - Meara Platt Page 0,166

turned downright nasty then as he spat venomously at him. “You will rue this decision, Edmund. Mark my words.” He marched over to the door and wrenched it open. “I’ll be gone in the morning.”

When the door slammed, the painting of his great-uncle Andrew rattled ominously behind him.

“I know,” Edmund said to it as he sat heavily in the chair. “Thank goodness.”

Chapter 12

Hannah had sensed Edmund’s discontent when he had come to her bed last night. It was late, and he hadn’t made love to her, but instead tossed and turned. He hadn’t left her, though, and she knew it was because of Byron’s presence in the house. He was protecting her, for which she was grateful.

By breakfast, Byron had departed, and they had both breathed a sigh of relief. Hannah could tell that Edmund was still agitated, though he wouldn’t tell her why. Instead, he spoke of his ancestor once more.

“I feel as though I’m to do something for him,” he said with a sigh. “I just don’t know what.”

“If only he could tell you,” Hannah said half-jokingly, although she wasn’t entirely sure she would want a spirit speaking to her. The fact he was within the house seemed to be enough. “What are you doing today?”

“There’s a fence that needs fixing,” Edmund said, pushing food around his plate, though Hannah noticed he wasn’t actually eating anything. “Thought I’d go see to it.”

She could tell that what he really needed was some time alone, so she didn’t comment.

“You?” he finally asked gruffly.

“I think I’ll paint,” she said, to which he gave a distracted nod.

A short time later, she and Molly were set up behind the house, but Hannah couldn’t keep her gaze from straying toward the ruin.

“This is wrong,” she said to Molly, who looked at her quizzically. Hannah was thinking on Edmund’s words that morning, and she couldn’t say why, but she felt that’s where they should be. “We need to go to the ruins.”

“Oh, my lady…” Molly said, her face falling. “Are… are you sure? I know it’s not my place to say, but there’s something about that place that is ever so frightening.”

Hannah thought for a moment before gathering up her canvas and paints, placing them in the basket beside her. “I don’t need the easel,” she said. “I’ll go alone. You stay here.”

“No, my lady, I should—”

“It’s fine,” Hannah said with a reassuring smile. “It’s not far and I don’t have much to carry. Besides, there is no one about and I will not actually go into the ruins. I will simply sit outside.”

“If you’re sure…” Molly said, seeming torn, but Hannah placed a hand on her arm and nodded.

“Very sure.”

“All right, then,” Molly said before scampering back to the house, as though she was trying to leave before Hannah changed her mind.

It was a bit of a gloomy day, Hannah realized as she began to make her way to the ruin site. She would have to keep a close eye on the clouds and ensure that if they became any darker or any closer, she would return. She had no wish to be caught in the rain with her canvas, for it would be difficult to find more. It was not as though the village nearby would carry any – what she had, she had brought with her.

When she finally reached her destination, she looked around, spotting a large outcropping of rock where she could set up and begin to paint. Only… she found it wasn’t the view beyond that called to her, but rather the ruins themselves.

Hannah wasn’t sure how long she sat there, mesmerized by what was before her. The wind whistled through the trees nearby and the old guesthouse seemed as though it was trying to tell her something, but she couldn’t quite understand just what it was.

“Are you there, Isabel?” she asked, somehow not feeling entirely foolish to be speaking with a spirit. Leaving the pad of canvas under a rock on the ground before her, she took a few steps toward the ruin, wrapping her arms around herself as she stared into it, the wind, now blowing briskly, chilling her through.

“What do you need?” she murmured. “You and Andrew… how can we bring you back together?”

She was so focused on what was before her that she didn’t hear anything else until the click of a pistol hammer sounded just behind her ear.

“Hello there, little one.”

Hannah screamed as she tried to whirl around, but his arm came fast and tight

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