Page 51 of This Haunted Heart

I rested my head back against the wood, flexing my left fingers to chase out the phantom ache the memory had inspired. “What’s your question?”

“When did you get so goddamn big?” She said it in the puckish way that never failed to draw a laugh out of me. “You arenotthe scrawny young man that I remember.”

I sensed the humor in her words but was too numb to share in it. “Right after my father died, I had a growth spurt. A considerable one. I was a late bloomer, I suppose you could say.”

“Ah,” she said. “It’s like when they cut a big tree down and the little ones nearby sprout up. They aren’t trapped in its shade anymore or choked by the bigger roots. Finally, they can get at the sunlight.”

“I suppose it was like that,” I said, closing my eyes because I was suddenly so tired. The ghosts had a habit of disturbing my sleep. They gave me nightmares and woke me throughout the night, and the events of the day had added substantially to my exhaustion.

“I lied about something,” she said, voice quiet.

“What’s that?” I blinked my eyes open, curious what she’d say next.

“I don’t have just the one question. I haveloadsof them.”

The urge to smile tugged at my cheeks, but I hadn’t the energy for even that small gesture. “You’d better get started then.”

“Why’d you tell me your name was Finley?”

“Because it is.”

She thought on my answer for a time. “Is that your blood family’s name? I can see why you’d want to go back to that one.”

“That’s right.”

“I’m also trying to figure out why you waited twenty years to avenge yourself on me if you were so angry all this time.There were moments early on when I thought someone would come for me, but then . . .” Her words fell away. I could almost hear the gears turning in her brain. “It was because ofher,wasn’t it? The woman you loved who broke your heart twice. You forgot all about me, but then . . . then she died, and it was time to settle the score. Am I close?”

There were plenty of reasons it had taken me so long to come and find her. I hadn’t known she’d survived fleeing from my father, for one. I thought she had died and been taken out of my reach for good. I didn’t have it in me to discuss my reasons with her, though. Not now. Not like this. I was too worn out.

“You’rejealous,” I accused her instead. The glimmer of glee her envy inspired was enough to put a small smile on my face.

“Of course I’m jealous,” she said indignantly. I pictured her pouting that plump bottom lip of hers.

“I like that you’re jealous,” I confessed. “I could listen to you being jealous all night.”

“Well then, settle in,” she grumbled. The door rocked as her weight shifted against it, and she let out a forlorn sigh that made me chuckle. “God, I bet she was beautiful. Probably some heiress, too. A truly sophisticated woman with an easy smile. Bet that’s where you got so much wealth. I mean, the baron was rich but not likethis. This is . . . my word, this house is something else.”

“She was beautiful all right,” I said through the door. “You got that part correct.”

“Ugh. Don’t confirm it. You’re turning my insides molten. Now I can’t pretend she was tolerable in appearance and you just wanted her for her money. Or that you felt sorry for her because she was so plain.”

I let out a small laugh, falling into hervortex of delightfulness. The numbness faded. “That’s rich, coming from you. Consideringyourhistory, Rynn.”

“I was no monk during our time apart,” she agreed ruefully. “But there’s no one for you to be jealous of at all. Not even a little.”

“Father Walker,” I teased.

She snorted at that. “He was kind, but he was homely. And his sermons were dull. With his habit of lecturing constantly, we would never have suited. Ugh. How can you even look at me knowing my lengthy history? You’ve got the one . . . I assume just the one . . . You know what, don’t tell me if there’s more than her. I can’t bear it. How do you stand it knowing how I made my living?”

I crossed my arms over my chest, pondering her question. “We weren’t together. Obviously, you didn’t marry me. I’d have quite a bit more to say about it otherwise, of course.”

“Would have locked me up sooner than twenty years, I imagine.”

“Without a doubt.”

It wasn’t that it didn’t bother me entirely. Naturally, it rankled that she’d chosen a life of debauchery and risk over building something with me, but her history didn’t change anything for me. My wounded heart would have pined for her no matter how reckless she’d been while we were apart.

“Still. Just the thought . . .” She made a grieved noise in her throat. “You with someone else. Touching them, loving them, fucking someone who isn’t me . . .”

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