Page 19 of Moonstone Landing
He was a damn ghost.
No matter how desperately he loved her, he could do nothing to help.
“I don’t want to return to London. The air is thick and dirty. I’ll only sicken faster. And what of my sweet nieces? I don’t want them to see me frail and helpless. I don’t want that, Brioc. I want their memories of me to be happy, not sad and filled with pity.”
“All right, Hen.”
“So I will enjoy my week with them and then send them on their way.” She walked to her bed, slipped off her robe, and settled under the covers.
Brioc worried about her when she curled up in a little ball and began to sniffle. “Hen, I’m coming into bed with you. I want to hold you in my arms. Is that all right?”
“It’s your bed more than it is mine.”
“Is that a yes?”
She nodded.
He was surprised, but she was hurting and probably willing to overlook the impropriety, since he was a ghost anyway and no one was going to see him. She had felt his kisses, but would she also be able to feel his arms around her?
He could not feel her.
Why had it only worked one way?
He wanted so badly to draw her body against his and feel the warmth of her skin against him.
He climbed in beside her and wrapped his arms around her.
To his utter surprise, he felt her.
“Can you feel my arms around you, Hen?”
She remained turned away from him so that her back was to his chest, and they were spooned together. “Yes.”
“I can feel you, too.”
She said nothing, just cried herself to sleep.
Come morning, Brioc was surprised to find himself still in bed with Hen, his big body half atop her and his hands cupping her in places he had no right to touch. He eased away, shaking his head in confusion as he rose and made his way to the balcony. It was almost dawn, and the familiar mist was rising off the water and hugging the flower beds. “Why am I still here?”
He turned to Hen in alarm. “Hen, wake up. Talk to me.”
She grumbled sleepily and opened her eyes. “What’s wrong? Why did you wake me?”
“I slept with you. Now, it is dawn, and I’m still here.”
She sat up in surprise. “What does it mean?”
He sank heavily onto the bed. “I was afraid it meant…I thought you…”
“Oh, I see. No, I’m not dead. But it is most confusing. I see what you mean.” She started to rise but turned him when they heard scratching sounds at the door. “Oh, dear. If that is Ashbrook, you are to do nothing, no matter what he says to me. I want your oath, Brioc.”
“Damn it.”
“Your oath.”
“All right. But if he touches you, I will punch him.”
“Aunt Hen,” her namesake called through the door. “Who are you talking to?”
