Page 4 of Madly Deeply

"You're right. That was a stupid thing to say."

The elevator doors had opened and an elderly couple stepped out, then looked around to see who she'd been talking to. Alexandra winked and smiled, then stepped inside and maderoom for her husband's ghost. With mouths hanging open, the couple watched the doors close.

"Careful," Spreag whispered. "Someone might cart ye off to the madhouse."

"They'll have to catch me first." She pressed the button for the third floor. "I can't help it. I'm just happy." She shook her head. "No, that's not right. I can't be happy that you're dead. I'm inconsolably relieved I haven't...lost you completely. That's it. Inconsolably relieved."

His expression softened. "Aye, well. That makes two of us."

The hotel room felt different with him there. Lighter, despite the fact that it was after midnight and the only illumination came from the same two lamps with the same weak lightbulbs. She'd spent so many nights curled into a ball on the bed, clutching his Spreag-scented laundry to her chest. And to think, he'd been watching her the whole time.

"I realize I could have come to ye sooner," he said, watching her gather up his clothes. "But I thought..."

"What?"

"That it might be cruel. For many reasons, mind."

"Such as?"

"Firstly, that ye might think yerself mad."

"Crazy? Oh, yeah, I'm definitely crazy." She disappeared into the bathroom to strip and slip on a nightgown she hadn't bothered with since the wedding. And to brush her teeth, which she'd forgotten to do more often these days than she cared to admit. "Luckily, you're stuck with me now, crazy or not."

She emerged to find Spreag examining the mess of tissues on the nightstand. "Maybe tomorrow ye'll allow the maids in? And I suppose they'll start letting the room next door."

"Yeah, well." She climbed into bed and tucked her feet under the covers. "I tried to be quiet."

He sat on the edge of the bed, making no impression on the mattress. "Now, if ye're feelin' better--"

"You're not going to leave me!"

"Nay. It's just that...if ye'll remember Bronagh said she could see Wyndham's ghost on the moor, that she saw him clearly in her mind while she was drawing him?"

"Yeah."

"And Wyndham said it took a great effort on his part to appear to her, now and again."

"I remember. So...how come I can see you now?"

"Because I'm exerting great effort." He raised a hand. "Don't mistake me. I dinnae mind. I've wanted to show myself since the first, and I'm torn, naturally, between the joy of speaking with ye again and the sorrow that ye needed me to do so. But once ye're asleep, I will rest as well."

Alex nodded and a yawn took control of her. "Ghost physics. Got it. We can study them tomorrow."

"Aye, tomorrow. Sleep now, and I shall close my eyes and breathe with ye, as I have done. I cannae keep ye warm--"

"It's enough that I know you're here." She closed her eyes and patted the mattress at her back. "Will you stay close until I nod off?"

"Aye. And I'll be here when ye wake. Just speak my name."

For the first time in weeks, she didn't cry herself to sleep.

Morning camewith a gentle Highland rain against the windows and the sound of Alexandra's phone buzzing. Spreag stood at the window, a thoughtful expression on his face as she fumbled for her phone.

"It's Wyndham," she said, reading the text. "He's inviting me to dinner tonight."

"Ye should go."

"But..." She sat up, clutching the blankets. "What about you?"

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