A Phantom Affair Read Online Free Page A

longer by his sorrow. His blue eyes, which were nearly so pale that they were colorless, were filled with tears. No words were necessary to show how fond he was of his cousin.
    â€œForgive me, Miss Dunbar,” he said, dabbing at his eyes with a handkerchief. “This is most distressing. We thought we had lost Corey once before during the war. He was returned to us, but now I fear death will catch up with him.”
    â€œForgive us,” she answered. She wished Marian would stop hovering over her. Each breath was harder than the one before it, for a weight seemed centered on her chest. A throb ran along her arm, increasing in strength with every heartbeat. “You do not need unexpected guests now.”
    A hint of a smile returned to pull at his lips. “Corey would not want you to drive home near the nadir of the night.” He hesitated, then added, “And, Miss Dunbar, if I may own to the truth, I would appreciate your company as well as Marian’s.”
    â€œI understand,” she answered, although she wondered where the other guests might be. Putting her fingers to her aching head, she sighed. Of course, the other guests had taken their leave in the wake of the accident in the garden. Only Marian and she remained. Another wave of pain washed over her as she imagined riding along that bumpy road back to Marian’s house. Closing her eyes, she leaned back against the silk upholstery. The conversation flowed around her. The cushions shifted, and Marian’s cool palm brushed her forehead. She nearly cried out in pain.
    â€œI fear she is hurt worse than we had thought,” Marian murmured.
    Ellen did not hear the answer. A bolt of pain struck her as viciously as the fireworks detonating in the garden. She moaned, the sound resonating through her tender skull. Confused, frightened shouts crashed over her, and she wondered if all those who had stood in the garden had come into the Abbey. The pain stole her breath from her. She had never suffered its like. Darkness smothered every thought. She did not fight it, but drifted through the fathomless quiet.
    When she opened her eyes again, she had come into another room. A bedroom, for she sat beside a bed whose gold curtains were closed on two sides. Beyond the oak bed, a chair was draped with a man’s coat. The material was stained with dirt and what she suspected—with a cramp in her stomach—was blood.
    Slowly she turned her gaze to the bed. Beneath the covers, Lord Wulfric was lying. Only the rise and fall of the blankets told her he was still alive. His skin was an odd shade of gray beneath its rich summer tan, which bespoke that his customary life reached far beyond the walls of this dusky room. Across his brow, his hair was matted. She shuddered as she wondered what hideous wound might be hidden beneath it.
    She sat alone beside the bed. Her forehead ruffled in surprise. Her head must have been hit far worse than she had guessed. Again she could not remember how she had gotten to where she was.
    She saw the doctor’s case open by the bed and a folded paper with her name scratched across it. As badly as her head throbbed, she might have lost consciousness if the doctor had examined her. Mayhap he had wanted to do that examination here where he could keep an eye on Lord Wulfric. She searched her mind. It was befuddled with half-formed thoughts and memories she could not trust. Yes, she seemed to recall Mr. Wolfe’s gentle concern as he helped Marian bring her to the doctor, who refused to be budged from Lord Wulfric’s side. Remembering that short journey from the other room, she swayed on the chair and clutched the bottom before she could fall. Each step had sent more anguish reeling through her until she had surrendered to the near-oblivion of letting others control her motions.
    The doctor had examined her … hadn’t he? She could not remember. Everything was a bumble-bath in her head.
    Then where was the