Enchantment & Bridge of Dreams by Christina Skye Page B

either, Draycott thought. There had been clues—if a person knew what to look for.
    â€œCan’t you just replace the locks?” Kacey demanded, clinging stubbornly to her original plan.
    â€œThey had been changed the day before the robbery. Theman—or men—simply broke through the gatehouse windows. It’s far enough from the main house that we could hear nothing.” Draycott’s face hardened. “So you see it would be quite out of the question for you to stay out there. Not now at any rate.”
    Kacey’s breath caught as she realized there was something he wasn’t telling her. “And you expect whoever it is to return, don’t you?”
    For a fleeting moment, Draycott looked startled. “I do. Especially now.”
    â€œYou mean once the news of your Whistler starts trickling out.”
    He nodded grimly.
    â€œPerhaps it already has.”
    â€œThe thought has crossed my mind, too.”
    â€œIs that why you were so suspicious of me last night?”
    â€œThat reason—among other reasons,” Draycott answered cryptically.
    â€œHow do you know that I’m not? One of them, I mean?”
    â€œI don’t,” the Englishman said bluntly. “But I mean to find out very soon. And if you are—one of them, as you put it—I’d rather have you here where I can see you than somewhere else,” he added.
    â€œI see.” Suddenly Kacey did see. That his performance last night was simply to smoke out a thief. That his passion had been no more than a clever ruse.
    She refused to consider why the idea should leave her with a lingering sense of regret. Meanwhile it seemed she had no choice but to do as Draycott required—if she wanted to see the Whistler again.
    Her fingers twisted back and forth on the chair rung. “Very well. I’ll stay here in the abbey,” she said at last. “As long as you agree to stay out of my way while I’m working.”
    His eyes followed her, dark with challenge. “And the rest of the time, Miss Mallory?”
    â€œThe same condition applies.”
    Very carefully, the earl dropped his damask napkin on thetable. He uncoiled his tall frame slowly and came to his feet, his eyes never leaving her face. “Then of course I must not interfere in your work. Beyond that—I promise to do nothing you don’t wish me to do, Kacey Mallory.”
    A faint flush swept her cheeks, but he was gone before she could tell him that the only thing she wanted from him was to be left alone.
    Damn the man’s arrogance! If he thought she was open to a casual flirtation, he’d find himself snapping at thin air.
    Yes, I’ll see you in hell first, Nicholas Draycott, Kacey swore silently.
    Behind her, the air seemed to shimmer and tremble. A shadow fell across the corridor. That, too, might be arranged, Katharine, the darkness seemed to whisper. For there are many different kinds of hell, and a great many are right here on earth. Hell is wanting what you can never again have. Hell is facing something that was once yours and knowing that you destroyed it wantonly.
    So speak that word carefully, the darkness murmured. Lest you find it sooner than you think.
    And the ghost of Draycott Abbey had reason to know that particular lesson better than most.
    Â 
    T HIRTY MINUTES LATER , Kacey closed her mind to the viscount and every other concern, settling down to her work.
    In the daylight, the painting was even more magnificent than it had appeared the night before. Now every subtle stroke of muted gray, lavender and turquoise was clearly visible.
    A masterpiece of design, the canvas showed a river scene captured at jewellike twilight, with a single gray figure standing at the end of a shadowy pier. In the distance rocked a phantom ship, lanterns lit, agleam from empty masts.
    But was it a genuine Whistler? Kacey asked herself. Herheart said yes, but her mind warned her to stay cautious as she