CHAPTER 11

Confused, Ellie frowned. “Your sister? But why?”

To her surprise, Matt looked slightly uncomfortable. “Well, my sister, she’s…well, she’s a little odd, to say the least. She’s, er, well, she’s a bit of a psychic, really. She reads tarot and all that. And what with everything that’s been going on with you, I think we could really use an expert, don’t you think?”

“Oh.” Disconcerted, Ellie stared down at the letters in her hands. The same letters she’d seen in her dreams. Had Elizabeth’s ghost led her to them? Or had it really been her past life? Maybe Matt was right. Maybe they really did need an expert to figure out what was going on with her.

Matt glanced down at his watch. “Damn. It’s getting late.” Leaning in, he kissed her forehead before climbing to his feet, hauling her up with him. “I’ve got to get into to town and open the museum.”

“Oh.” She couldn’t hide her disappointment. She could hear it in her voice and felt slightly ashamed. Of course, he had to go to work. He still had a life to live, didn’t he? It wasn’t his entire world that had been turned upside down; it was hers. “Of course.”

“Will you be alright by yourself?” The concern in his voice was palpable.

Ellie felt her disappointment warm to a fond embarrassment. “Don’t be silly. I’ll be fine.” She held up the letters. “I’ve got plenty to keep me occupied, don’t I?”

Chuckling, he took her hand and began to lead her out of the attic. “I suppose you do. Come by the museum around three this afternoon?” he asked, as they entered her bedroom once more. He hastily began to dress.

“Sure.”

“Great.” Flashing her a handsome smile and kissing her again, Matt dashed from the room.

Ellie stood staring out the window until Matt’s car disappeared down the long drive. Then she glanced down at the pile of letters in her hand. What could they possibly say? Finally, curiosity won out and Ellie plucked one of them from the stack. As carefully as she could, she pried it open and began to read.

They were love letters. From the dates at the top, it looked as though they spanned the length of a year, detailing the love affair of Elizabeth and Matthew in their own words. Tears spilled down Ellie’s cheeks as she read the tender words, as she became absorbed in the bond the two of them shared. So much love. So much pain. And it was made even worse by the fact that there were times when Elizabeth seemed so in love with Lord Dabney and didn’t appear to care about Matthew at all.

They knew Dabney had been controlling her somehow. Matthew thought it must be from the wine, because any time he had seen her take the drink Dabney offered, her entire demeanor would change. Matthew was furious with Dabney’s manipulation, but Elizabeth was too scared to be angry. She felt as if she were lost in a prison, stuck in a life that was no longer her own.

Even throughout her pregnancy, her husband encouraged her to continue drinking whatever potion he had concocted, to the point where Elizabeth was terrified it was affecting the baby. According to her letters, she had even confronted Dabney once. It hadn’t ended well. While it was never considered proper to physically punish one’s wife, during the Regency Era, it definitely wasn’t unheard of. Lord James Dabney had a nasty temper, and before long, Elizabeth was nearly afraid of her own shadow.

It was only when she would wake from a dream thinking of Matthew or when she would suddenly find herself alone with him at a social event that the spell would be broken. She said it was like coming alive again; like finally breaking the surface of the water and being able to breathe. She was living her days in a fog, and when she could feel like herself again, she was so terrified and depressed that she no longer had much life in her, regardless of how hard Matthew tried to make her happy.

Ellie sat back and stared at the paper in her hands. It was all so sad. “That poor woman,” she whispered into the silence. “To have everything taken from her that way…to have her love and her life stolen by some selfish man. It isn’t right.” Then, with an appalling thought, Ellie’s eyes widened in fear. What if Matthew’s theory was right? What if that woman was actually her?

Despite herself, Ellie’s hands began to shake, the stack of letters falling to the floor. Numb, she tried to gather them together, picking on up at random. Yet, the handwriting on this one wasn’t familiar. It wasn’t Matthew’s or Elizabeth’s; it wasn’t even her grandmother Victoria’s. Intrigued, she scanned the page again, and gasped when she caught the name at the bottom of the stationary: Anne Hargrove.

It was her mother’s.

All her words were true, Anne wrote. Ellie pressed a hand to her heart. He has come calling after me, just as she said he would. I didn’t even know it was him at first. I just thought he was another tourist or maybe a relative that had moved to the area while I was away at University. But I was wrong.

There is a darkness about him that I cannot explain. He scares me. And there are times, I don’t know how he does it, but there are times when I feel as if I am drawn to him, as if I belong to him. Times when my body feels as if it wants to be near him, to be wrapped within his arms, even when my mind is screaming that it’s wrong.

I know I’m not Elizabeth. I know we do not share the same soul. But Mother says it is not necessarily her soul that he is after. She says he does not understand the difference between obsession and love. He blames our family for his ruin two hundred years ago, and will not stop until he has reclaimed both the Hargrove fortune and a Hargrove heart.

Mother says that we are cursed. That James Dabney—the same James Dabney that drove Elizabeth Hargrove to her death—cursed our line when he forced her to love him. That his obsession with her and with dark magic culminated in both of their souls being trapped in an endless loop, that won’t be destroyed until the cycle is broken.

He can’t have me. He won’t. And any child I have will never be anywhere near him. Mother cried when I told her, but I have to leave. His influence on me is too much, and I can’t risk giving him what he wants.

My only hope is that my leaving will break the curse on our family, and any daughter I may have will never have to fear the obsession of the timeless Lord James Dabney.

Timeless. Ellie let the world roll across her mind. James was immortal. It wasn’t possible. None of it was. And yet…could it be true? Could he really be the same man who had hurt her family for hundreds of years?

Thunder clapped outside the window, making her jump. It was starting to pour. She hadn’t even noticed the sky getting dark. How long had she been at it? Her eyes searched for the clock on the nightstand and she gasped at the time. If she was going to meet Matt, she needed to get moving.