A Phantom Affair by Jo Ann Ferguson Page A

Corey’s face when he realized how his touch had hurt her. She had not stayed to soothe him last night. Racing out of the room, she had not returned. Marian had graciously let her share her room, and Ellen had allowed her bosom-bow to think she was distressed solely because of the funeral.
    And Corey had vanished as completely as if he had never existed.
    Lord Wulfric handed Marian into the carriage. “I hope you will call in a few days, Marian,” he said. “I recall how empty this house seemed when I was alone before. When mine is the only voice save the servants’, it becomes dreary.”
    â€œMayhap you should go to Town.”
    He shook his head. “Such a stimulating life belonged to Corey or to Nessa, not to me. I prefer this life in grassville, but not always alone.” He looked at Ellen and smiled. “Thank you for your compassion during the past few days.”
    â€œI fear I have done little.”
    â€œThat you were so calm in the midst of this, when you were injured as well, gave me more strength than you can guess. You mourned with such dignity, it inspired all of us.”
    Ellen longed to tell him the truth. She had not mourned for Corey … until now. Only now was she saying good-bye to him. Marian would be a good neighbor and give Lord Wulfric a look-in, but if Ellen had a smidgen of sense about her, she would stay far from Wolfe Abbey and Corey Wolfe.
    â€œThank you,” she said, knowing anything else she might say could betray the secret she must bury as deeply in her heart as Corey’s corpse was beneath the earth. “I appreciate your kindness, my lord.”
    He nodded, looking oddly uncomfortable. She wondered which of her words had so unsettled him, then realized it was the title. Brashly she put her hand over his on the side of the door. His wish that his cousin might come again from the dead to claim the title was futile, but the truth might ease his pain.
    â€œEllen, recall yourself!” hissed Marian. Shock emblazoned her face.
    â€œMarian,” returned Lord Wulfric in the same tone, “do not chide Miss Dunbar when she is only continuing to be generous with her sympathy.”
    Ellen gulped back her gasp. For a moment, she had seen a resemblance to Corey in the twinkle in Lord Wulfric’s eyes. She had dismissed Lord Wulfric as insignificant. Clearly there was more to him than she had guessed. Again she was tempted to tell him the truth. Mayhap she did not need to worry. Corey would not be a quiet ghost, content to wander the corridors of the Abbey in silence. Sooner or later, Lord Wulfric was sure to encounter him.
    After a few more words of consolation, Marian signaled for the coachman to drive them along the sea road toward Herrold Hall. Ellen took a single glance back at the huge house.
    So lowly not even Marian would hear, she whispered, “Good-bye, Corey.”
    Rain struck the windows in a futile attempt to find a way into Herrold Hall. The mighty expanse of glass cast doubts on Marian’s assertion that her husband’s family had held this land for dozens of generations. Unlike Wolfe Abbey, which had been built to repel any invasion, this house was designed with leisurely living in mind.
    Ellen stood by the largest window in the library and stared out at the pond past the gardens at the base of the hill. The day was fading into dusk, and she could barely see the water swirling amid the cattails on the shore.
    No day had ever been as long as this one. Marian’s prattling had rung through Ellen’s head until Ellen had sought any excuse to seek her room. When she had arrived there, she found Sullivan unpacking her things. The abigail had told her, with a smile, that Lord Wulfric wished her to continue to serve Miss Dunbar while she was visiting Herrold Hall.
    â€œNot as if his lordship needs a lady’s maid in the Abbey,” Sullivan had said with a grin.
    Ellen suspected Marian’s hand in this