Someone to Love by Jude Deveraux

thing!” Jace had said before his uncle Mike took the phone. Mike spoke quietly to the man for a few minutes, then hung up. Mike’s face was red with anger. “I think he’s worried we’ll sue so he’s trying to establish that Stacy was mentally unsound.” All Jace heard of that sentence was the word “was.” Stacy was gone.
    During the weeks in hell that followed Stacy’s death, all Jace seemed to hear was that Stacy was “unstable” and had had years of counseling. Her family seemed to agree that being engaged to someone like Jace, so busy with work, always traveling, had sent her over the edge. She’d wanted out of the marriage but didn’t know how to say the words. Stacy’s stepmother said that Stacy hadn’t wanted to hurt Jace’s feelings. “So she killed herself?” Jace said. At that, Stacy’s stepmother had started crying, Stacy’s father had led her away, and Uncle Mike had taken Jace away.
    It hadn’t taken much thought to see how much Stacy’s stepmother had to gain with Stacy’s death being a suicide. With Stacy gone, she had all her husband’s attention. The man had never cared much for his other daughter, Regina, who had married young and produced four homely children. Stacy had been the one to laugh, the one to put a sparkle in her father’s eye.
    Jace closed his eyes and let himself remember something he’d tried to forget: Stacy’s funeral. Mr. Evans’s face had been bleak, his eyes dull and red with grief. Stacy had been his favorite. He used to say that she’d caused him problems, but she was worth it. At the funeral, Mr. Evans was slumped in a chair, numb from shock. Hovering over him were his young wife and his unloved second daughter, consoling him over the suicide.
    What would have happened if Stacy’s death had been declared a murder? Jace thought. Roger Evans wouldn’t have needed the comfort of two women. He would have been a lion in a rage. He would have put his life on hold until he found out who had killed his precious daughter.
    Jace’s mother always said that if you wanted to know why someone did something, then you should look at the result. When Stacy’s stepmother and her sister had blamed Jace and told the English police that Stacy was deeply unhappy, they’d achieved two things. They’d claimed Roger Evans’s undivided attention, and they’d rid themselves of the Montgomerys. Jace was well aware of how pleased Roger had been that his daughter was marrying into the Montgomerys, a family of wealth and power. That must have hurt Regina, as her husband couldn’t seem to hold a job.
    Jace ran his hand over his eyes. Right now everything seemed clear. At least the motives of the people who were still living seemed clear.
    But what about Stacy?
    Jace looked about the room. He knew without a doubt that he’d been led to this house. It seemed that the letter he’d found had waited for him for three whole years. He’d needed time to get over his grief and shock about Stacy, and he’d needed time to realize that he had to find out the truth. He couldn’t continue in his life afraid that each woman he met was going to…He couldn’t bring himself to think of the possible consequences.
    Murder, not suicide. It was an idea that had always been in his head, but who, why? How?
    The one thing he was truly sure of was that it was no coincidence that he was seeing a ghost who was believed to have committed suicide.
    Jace picked up The History of Margate and looked at the story about Ann again. From the little bit he’d heard in his dreams, it seemed that everything in the story was wrong. From Catherine’s tone of voice, he didn’t think Ann was Arthur Stuart’s “beloved” daughter. And far from wanting to get out of marrying a rogue like Danny Longstreet, Ann was looking forward to it.
    “What happened?” he asked aloud. “And what can I do about any of it?” He knew Ann had shown herself to other people—or been seen by them—but only he had seen her