death. The cursed manor would sit vacant for some time.
This explained why the townspeople, even today and yesterday, had difficulty talking about the manor. My stomach churned. What I couldn’t understand was the fact that even today they held what their ancestors did on their own consciences. Were they still feeling guilt for actions the town did to an innocent family? That thought scared me. Then where was the remorse, the justice?
Thinking over the time I’d spent talking with the locals, I realized that I wasn’t going to hear much more. I understood there were a few people that probably did feel remorse for what had happened, Mr. Verner being one of them, but hoping for any restitution would be useless. A somber feeling swept over me and I cried myself to sleep.
With a slow start in the morning, I showered to awaken and let the water rain steadily over my face. Once refreshed, I decided it was time to return to the manor. The drive made my senses come alive with anticipation of seeing Chesley once more.
Once upstairs and in his dark living quarters, I waited by the fireplace. The cold air penetrated me to the bone. In my solitude I longed for his presence, wished for his touch, his life, his warmth. As if on cue, he entered the room.
The fire roared to life, raising goose bumps over my chilled body. I spun around to greet him. Dressed as he was before, he made his way over to me and smiled. I was not sure what came over me, but I moved to him, embraced him in a hug and held him to me for some time.
“What was that for?” he chuckled, leading me by the hand over to the chair. Once I was comfortable, he knelt beside me and looked into my eyes.
“I studied you and your history,” I said. To be quite honest, I’m burdened with sorrow.” I held back the tears, but the crack in my voice revealed my feelings.
“It is the past,” he coolly replied. Stroking my hair gently, he sighed. “It is not something I can, nor you, should dwell upon.”
The whispered words I answered never came from clear thoughts formulated, they came from my heart. “I care about you and…” I studied his face for any change of expression. “I think it’s more than caring, too. You see, when I come here, I feel like I belong. I don’t feel like an outsider. To me, this is home. I want it to be home. I miss you when I am not here. I’m saddened by your life and love the life you bring here, but…I don’t know. I’m confused, yet I understand completely.” A single tear escaped my eye and ran a wet trail down my cheek.
He wiped it carefully from my face and smiled. “You remind me of my beloved wife. If I believed in reincarnation, I would say you were her, returned to me.”
“Uh…” Not knowing what to say, my mouth closed. Realizing he was from an earlier time, when chivalry played a part in society, I leaned into his arms and kissed him tenderly.
He reciprocated and gently pulled my head closer to his.
The touch of his hand sent waves of heat through my body. My breathing quickened, almost panting, as my desires heightened in his embrace.
He stood, pulled me to him and seized me up into his arms and led me to the bedchamber across the hall. Opening the door with a slight kick, he entered the room and gently placed me upon the bed. This room was just as extravagant as the living area; rich burgundy linens spread across the bed, the bedposts were thick and made of mahogany, the vanity was hand-carved with flowers and ivy vines and cherubim. The room glowed with candlelight. The scent of sweet flowers permeated the air and wafted into my nostrils, making my mind whirl.
I pulled him to me and trailed kisses over his face, across his cheek and down his neck. My cheeks heated.
His hand drifted over my waist, up to my breast and cupped it there, massaging my chest until he heard a moan escape me.
His gentle kiss warmed my soul, filled my heart with rapture and my body with carnal desire. I wanted him and right
This explained why the townspeople, even today and yesterday, had difficulty talking about the manor. My stomach churned. What I couldn’t understand was the fact that even today they held what their ancestors did on their own consciences. Were they still feeling guilt for actions the town did to an innocent family? That thought scared me. Then where was the remorse, the justice?
Thinking over the time I’d spent talking with the locals, I realized that I wasn’t going to hear much more. I understood there were a few people that probably did feel remorse for what had happened, Mr. Verner being one of them, but hoping for any restitution would be useless. A somber feeling swept over me and I cried myself to sleep.
With a slow start in the morning, I showered to awaken and let the water rain steadily over my face. Once refreshed, I decided it was time to return to the manor. The drive made my senses come alive with anticipation of seeing Chesley once more.
Once upstairs and in his dark living quarters, I waited by the fireplace. The cold air penetrated me to the bone. In my solitude I longed for his presence, wished for his touch, his life, his warmth. As if on cue, he entered the room.
The fire roared to life, raising goose bumps over my chilled body. I spun around to greet him. Dressed as he was before, he made his way over to me and smiled. I was not sure what came over me, but I moved to him, embraced him in a hug and held him to me for some time.
“What was that for?” he chuckled, leading me by the hand over to the chair. Once I was comfortable, he knelt beside me and looked into my eyes.
“I studied you and your history,” I said. To be quite honest, I’m burdened with sorrow.” I held back the tears, but the crack in my voice revealed my feelings.
“It is the past,” he coolly replied. Stroking my hair gently, he sighed. “It is not something I can, nor you, should dwell upon.”
The whispered words I answered never came from clear thoughts formulated, they came from my heart. “I care about you and…” I studied his face for any change of expression. “I think it’s more than caring, too. You see, when I come here, I feel like I belong. I don’t feel like an outsider. To me, this is home. I want it to be home. I miss you when I am not here. I’m saddened by your life and love the life you bring here, but…I don’t know. I’m confused, yet I understand completely.” A single tear escaped my eye and ran a wet trail down my cheek.
He wiped it carefully from my face and smiled. “You remind me of my beloved wife. If I believed in reincarnation, I would say you were her, returned to me.”
“Uh…” Not knowing what to say, my mouth closed. Realizing he was from an earlier time, when chivalry played a part in society, I leaned into his arms and kissed him tenderly.
He reciprocated and gently pulled my head closer to his.
The touch of his hand sent waves of heat through my body. My breathing quickened, almost panting, as my desires heightened in his embrace.
He stood, pulled me to him and seized me up into his arms and led me to the bedchamber across the hall. Opening the door with a slight kick, he entered the room and gently placed me upon the bed. This room was just as extravagant as the living area; rich burgundy linens spread across the bed, the bedposts were thick and made of mahogany, the vanity was hand-carved with flowers and ivy vines and cherubim. The room glowed with candlelight. The scent of sweet flowers permeated the air and wafted into my nostrils, making my mind whirl.
I pulled him to me and trailed kisses over his face, across his cheek and down his neck. My cheeks heated.
His hand drifted over my waist, up to my breast and cupped it there, massaging my chest until he heard a moan escape me.
His gentle kiss warmed my soul, filled my heart with rapture and my body with carnal desire. I wanted him and right
Similar Books
The Stranger: The Heroes of Heyday (Harlequin Superromance No. 1266)
Kathleen O`Brien
No Show
Simon Wood
The Best Horror Stories of Arthur Conan Doyle
Arthur Doyle
Fell Purpose
Cynthia Harrod-Eagles
Passing the Narrows
Frank Tuttle
Follow You Down
Hot Tree Editing, K. B. Webb
Marna
Norah Hess
Judas Kiss
J.T. Ellison
The Law Killers
Alexander McGregor