The Ghost Who Loved Me by Karolyn Cairns

had her pinned beneath him on the settee, his hands undoing the fastenings of his belt before she wrenched herself away at the last moment.
    She went to Lady Grifford’s that weekend to think on her deepening relationship with Anthony, disturbed by how she had nearly surrendered herself to him. And then Edward learned of them meeting secretly, told by Weathers she met him at his flat without her.
    Her husband would laugh if he knew she was still a virgin after spending months in Anthony’s acquaintance. Edward would roll on the floor in mirth if she admitted to him it wasn’t as easy for her to take a lover as it was for him. She held Anthony off for months, indecisive if that was what she truly wanted. Her husband would likely roll his eyes and say she was a fool for passing on such an opportunity.
    Edward was twisted, made so by denying what he was all of his life, being forced to hide it and feel shame. She felt pity for him to know his father despised him, seeing him as weak. She no more resented his feelings for Mr. Ives than he should hers for Anthony.
    But Edward wouldn’t relent in getting his heir. It was a means to smite his austere father who so often belittled him as a child. She would find no measure of happiness in her life until she gave Edward what he wanted.
    Only then would she be free of him.
    Anthony talked of divorce as the last resort. Elizabeth was properly shocked into silence. Such was unheard of in polite society. She doubted she had the mettle or the resolve to endure years of costly legal battles.
    In the end, they would be shunned by all of their friends and family. It seemed too high a price for her to see the man she loved ruined even for them to be together.
    Elizabeth had to be honest. Though she believed in her heart she truly loved Anthony, she couldn’t go through with such a dreadful public display, even for her own happiness.
    Anthony claimed not to care what people thought of him while she couldn’t bear societies censure, ashamed by her own feelings that she never made fully clear to him.
    Anthony went even further to suggest she could threaten her husband with exposure to secure a divorce, making her feel slightly annoyed that somehow money was at the heart of the matter.
    While it was true, Anthony had little of his own money she adamantly refused to do such a thing. Elizabeth thought of her family first. She couldn’t do it. She wanted more for Anthony than to be an outcast even if it meant giving him up.
    Was it fair to any of them for her to be so selfish in her desires?
    After hours of depressive thought and painful contemplation, she believed not. She wasn’t the sort of woman to do what Anthony asked of her. He would get over what they shared when he married the American heiress.
    ~ ~ ~
    The thirty servants all gathered below stairs awaiting Mr. Pettigrew. The butler at Westerleigh ordered them all to assemble at promptly six. All sat and muttered about the table wondering what news he had to give.
    Mr. Pettigrew arrived and all stood up quickly. The man eyed them all gravely and sat. The servants sat and waited for him to speak.
    Mr. Pettigrew was in his early fifties, a robust man with a modicum of grey at his temples. His dark liveried uniform was pressed and starched to perfection, and as always, nary a hint of lint was seen upon his pristine coat sleeves.
    Even here in this remote district many miles outside of Tregaron in the wilds of Wales, he demanded the servants uphold to the tradition of wearing liveried uniforms and the keeping up of appearances.
    Why? They all often wondered.
    Most grumbled as they went about polishing the silver or some other menial task. None was ever there to appreciate it but them. Mr. Pettigrew was an exacting man. He refused to see any slack in the care of the castle.
    They rarely saw any visitors at Westerleigh. Once in a great while some unwary traveler would seek accommodation at the castle until a repair was made to a carriage