Chapter 17.1. Game Of Vengeance

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   Two uneventful days had passed since Aunt Penelope's ghostly sighting in her garden. True to her word, Charlotte's aunt had managed to keep her secret. She had not managed to curb her curiosity, however. From her window Charlotte had spotted the woman skulking about the rosebushes several times late at night. What her aunt planned to do with Benedic if she caught him was anyone's guess. The irony was that she and Charlotte both wanted to get their hands on the same elusive devil and subdue his restless spirit.

   "If you find our ghost," Charlotte whispered from the windowsill as she gazed out in the dark, "give him my best wishes, won't you?"

   It had not escaped her notice that Benedic had deserted her again without making any promises for their future whatsoever. Even if he managed to see through his dangerous scheme, she could not be sure where they would stand. She wondered what their wild night of passion had meant to him. His body may have healed, but his mind was still at the mercy of his demons.

   Would she find that their association had been built on nothing more than a man's desperation and a strange series of events? Certainly there would be no easy way to explain to her family how she and Benedic had become involved with each other. Charlotte could not let him take all the blame.

   There was no guarantee that he would not end up truly dead from his game of vengeance, and that these other fears of hers would never even have a chance to come to pass. She told herself she should be glad he'd refused to draw her any deeper into his perilous scheme. She should appreciate his stubborn resolve to protect her. None of which changed how she felt about the infuriating man.

   There were times such as tonight when she stood at her window and swore she could feel him watching her; her skin would tingle with anticipation.

   At other times the sensation of being observed became unpleasant and intrusive, and she wondered whether Edward was gazing out into the evening woods as she was, both of them searching for the man who haunted them.

   "I know you are there, Benedic," she said with a heavy sigh as she closed the curtains for the night. "I hope your enemy is not as aware."

   Could Charlotte be deliberately taunting him? Benedic wondered from the leafy embankment of the wood that concealed his presence. Did she guess that he was ready to break into her room and damn the consequences? Was she trying to lure him again, or was that idiot James courting her in the dark?

   If he had opportunity, he was going to teach James a thing or two for trying to tempt Charlotte. Not that Benedic had any objection to tempting her himself, but he would fight to deny any other man the privilege. Especially after she had given herself to him the other night. She belonged only to him, and when his affairs were in order, he would make sure the entire world knew it. He would never be forced to leave her again.

   He smiled at the image of her in the telescope. He could see her silhouette behind the lace curtains; her unstudied movements made him feel breathless, weak and powerful at the same time. He remembered the milky texture of her skin, the throaty gasp she had given when he had thrust into her strong body, fragrance of her, the bruised look in her eyes when he'd forced himself to leave her room.

   He lowered the telescope with regret. He could torture himself all he desired at another time. This evening a far more unpleasant task awaited him. Edward had been exploring the areas around the estate late at night recently, and Benedic wondered why.

   Was his uncle meeting someone? Or had he begun to suspect that he was under surveillance? Had he realized that the house he claimed as his inheritance did indeed have a very active ghost? Edward might even be planning a quiet escape. He had friends and valuable property in India. An Englishman could live as a king in a foreign land.

   Benedic debated whether to follow him on his nocturnal explorations or to take the chance of examining Edward's personal papers while he was gone. The possibility of a trap always existed, that his uncle had uncle to sense he might not have been as successful in his plans as he assumed.

   Edward might even have begun to believe in ghosts.

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