Haunting Secrets by Marie Higgins Page B

forest with their tails between their legs.
    Justin turned and knelt beside her. Her whole body shook.
    “Miss Fawson, are you all right?”
    She nodded, her chest tight. Tears welled in her eyes, and instinctively she reached for him. He scooped her up in his arms. She buried her face in his neck and breathed his musky scent of spice while tears flowed down her cheeks.
    The rain started again and beat against them as he carried her back toward the house. He didn’t enter through the front doors or the servant’s quarters. Instead, he used a door Victoria didn’t know existed. Inside, darkness surrounded them and he set her down on the floor to light a candle. A long tunnel loomed straight ahead. He swept her up into his arms again and carried her as if she weighed no more than a feather.
    He climbed the stairs that circled upward into a tunnel that looked well used. No cobwebs filled the corners, and remarkably, no mice scurried across the floor.
    They arrived at a room lit with many candles and with a fire roaring in a deep hearth. Immediately, she recognized his sanctuary.
    He carried her to the fireplace and set her on the rug before it. He doffed his cloak and knelt beside her, took her hands in his and rubbed warmth back into them. His eyes remained downcast, so she took the opportunity to study him more closely. A scarf still covered the left side of his face, yet he looked handsome. So mysterious. Obviously a caring man.
    She swallowed the lump of emotion lodged in her throat. “Thank you for saving me.”
    His dark gray eyes met her stare. “What were you doing wandering in the rain by yourself?”
    “Chasing after my maid.”
    “What was she doing outside in this weather?”
    “I don’t know. That’s why I ran after her.”
    Silence stretched and her encounter with the dogs replayed in her mind. She shivered.
    “Umm…” She cleared her throat. “Tell me, how is it that you can talk to those dogs in their language?”
    He shook his head. “I didn’t.”
    “I heard you.”
    “It must have been your imagination then. Nobody can talk to animals in their own language.”
    She frowned. Stubborn man.
    His brow creased and he lifted his hand to her face, running the pads of his fingers over the scratches. “Do they hurt?”
    Apparently, he wasn’t going to tell her what she wanted to know. “A little.”
    “I have some ointment that might help.”
    He rose and strode across the room. After digging through a black medical bag, he pulled out a jar and returned to her side. He gave her a caring smile and removed the lid.
    “It won’t hurt.” He touched his finger to the ointment and dabbed it on the cuts across her face.
    She jerked at first, until warmth blended with the sting. She was certain his body heat healed her more than the salve. “Who are you? Are you Justin?”
    Sighing heavily, he shook his head and lowered his hand. “Will knowing my name really make a difference?”
    “It will to me.”
    “I’m surprised you’re not screaming and fleeing as fast as your legs will carry you. Those who have seen me think I’m a beast.”
    “No.” Softly, she touched his arm. “Anyone who would save a woman from rabid dogs is no beast.”
    He didn’t speak. His gaze swept over her hair, her face, and rested on her lips. Her heart hammered. Once again, she became breathless, and fear of a different kind invaded her senses, warming her more than his fingers had.
    “I’m Justin Maitland. I died a year ago.”
    She shook her head. “Impossible. Are you trying to tell me I’m not only talking to a ghost, but touching him, also?” She ran her hand over his arm. His muscles bunched beneath her fingers.
    “Believe it or not, I died. I’m not human.”
    Victoria caressed the side of his cheek not covered by the scarf. He inhaled sharply, but remained still. Her hand drifted toward black, wavy hair and brushed a lock away from his brow. “You feel human to me.”
    Eyes of deep blue bore into hers,