Haunted Hearts

9

When Rufus's study doors burst open, and Roderick, Elphi, and her three ghostly companions walked inside regardless of Rouse's stammered protestations from the foyer, Rufus absently glanced up mid-sentence and lost his train of thought for the second time that day.

He'd been absorbed in a somewhat stilted discussion with his sister Rosalind for the past twenty minutes after she'd dropped by unexpectedly to announce she and her husband Reggie returned to town and he—Rufus—must join them for dinner for reasons she hadn't yet divulged.

To say he was thoroughly surprised and befuddled on all counts would be a gross understatement for three reasons.

First and foremost, visits from Rosalind to his home were few and far between and, without fail, were preceded by a note warning him of her impending arrival. The fact she hadn't sent one was indeed a cause for worry.

Second, unless he was sorely mistaken, Rufus could have sworn he and Roderick were supposed to meet later tonight at their club and, therefore, had no idea what would have brought Roderick to his door at such an early hour. With Elphi in tow, no less.

And it was this point that brought him straightway to the third and perhaps most resounding reason for his plight that morning.

Surprise visits from Rosalind and Roderick were relatively easy to deal with compared to the overwhelming shock and, if he were honest, pure unadulterated delight that crashed through him at the sight of Lady Melphia Matson walking into his study.

Despite his best attempts, he had struggled to put Elphi from his mind after last evening. Visions of her had plagued his dreams, and he'd awoken with an unshakable, driving need to seek her out this morning and ensure she was well.

It was a dangerous yearning he could not indulge in for countless reasons—even if he didn't believe with any certainty that she was cursed—which only added to his overall discombobulation.

Because it was as though his need to see her today had somehow willed her into existence.

He'd hoped it stemmed from last night at the séance when he'd fought an irrational, protective urge to leap across the table and throttle Mrs. Lynch for daring to use curse in association with Elphi.

Never in his life had he loathed a word as much as he had at that moment.

His entire body had recoiled, and he'd wanted to demand she take it back. But now that Elphi stood before him, Rufus realized his heart was in far more trouble than he ever could have imagined.

The first thing that struck him was the simple realization that until now, he'd never seen Lady Melphia Matson in daylight and, therefore, couldn't have known what he was missing out on.

He couldn't help but allow his eyes to drink their fill, brazenly raking over her from head to toe, studying every detail that had previously been hidden from him by the dimly lit interiors of Sanham and Terreworth Hall.

Last evening they'd called her hair auburn, but it seemed like such a lifeless, uninspired word when rays of sunshine awakened its secret, vibrant hue and brought to mind a dessert he'd had a year ago of pears poached in mulled wine.

Her gown was maroon, the shade so dark that Rufus would have thought it a black-brown color if he'd seen it in a darkened room. However, seeing it in the sunlight streaming through his windows reminded him of coagulated blood, and he couldn't help but think the color suited her pale, striking beauty.

"You're staring again, Lord Treadway," Elphi murmured, "and frowning. You seem to do both quite frequently, I dare say."

Rufus blinked, "Pardon?"