A Phantom Affair by Jo Ann Ferguson Page B

arrangement, because Marian had been vexed at sharing her abigail Holmes. Other times, she might have been thrilled to see a friendly face, but all Ellen could think of was finding some place to be alone with her thoughts.
    The book room at the back of the house on the second floor had offered that solitude. As a fire snapped on the stone hearth, she had watched the storm sweep up out of the sea to crash around the house.
    â€œHere you are!”
    At Marian’s merry voice, Ellen sighed. Marian was so resolved that Ellen not lose herself in melancholy she was haunting Ellen here as surely as Corey had at Wolfe Abbey.
    No, she would not think of him now. Nor would she think of how she had left the Abbey without seeking Corey out. What could she have said to him? None of the usual platitudes would serve.
    â€œLook!” Marian crowed. “Your arm must be better.”
    Ellen smiled. She had dispensed with the bandages. Although her arm remained tender around the lacerations and her skin was a peculiar collection of colors, she was delighted to be free of the constraining bandages. “Mr. Bridges told me this afternoon he was pleased with my recovery.”
    â€œAs I am.” Marian settled herself in a chair by the window and shivered. “I do despise rainy days.”
    â€œI find them cozy.”
    â€œThat is because you were raised in that dreary country to the north. I daresay, you seldom enjoyed a sunny day.”
    Ellen did not want to discuss Scottish weather. Not when it was clear something was bothering Marian. Sitting next to her friend, she asked, “What is amiss?”
    Marian’s deep sigh filled the room, but she managed a smile. “I had thought to put the tragedy behind us when we left Wolfe Abbey, but I find myself thinking of Corey Wolfe too often.”
    â€œYou knew him for many years.”
    â€œTolerated him would be closer to the truth.” She smiled sadly. “I vow I never met a more vexing man. Even when we were young, he could not resist jesting on every occasion. When he defied his father and went to buy a commission, no one was more startled than I, for I had been certain his claims of doing just that were nothing but another joke.”
    The door opened, and a maid came in with a tea tray. Marian motioned for it to be set on a table near her. Marian poured tea for Ellen and held out the cup.
    Stirring sugar into it, Ellen said, “Then Corey—”
    Marian glanced at her sharply. “I did not realize you were such good friends that you were using first names.”
    â€œIt comes of hearing you speak of him with such affection, I suspect.” Hurrying on before Marian could ask another question, she said, “You shall miss his laughter.”
    â€œI never thought I would say yes, but you are right.” Leaning back in her chair, Marian gazed up at the plaster flowers looping across the ceiling. “I recall a time when I would have been glad to be rid of him. It was the night of my first real party. I had been brought out in Town a few weeks before, but my parents wished me to marry Reginald. The party was to give him a chance to court me.”
    Ellen took a sip of her tea, so Marian might not see her expression. She had never met Marian’s parents, for they had died before she came to England. What she had heard made her grateful their paths had never crossed. Marian’s country squire father had been determined to advance their family’s status by marrying their only child to the local baron. If Corey had been a few years older, he would have been the target of their matchmaking.
    â€œCorey somehow managed to sneak into the house before the party,” Marian continued. “I suspect he was thirteen or fourteen at the time, but he always was able to slip in and out of places without anyone seeing him. Like some kind of phantom, causing trouble when no one was looking.”
    Ellen choked on her tea. She waved aside