“Elias is coming for you. He knows. He knows about the contract you forged—the one binding me to a marriage I refused. He knows about the will. The vault beneath the east wing. The records you hid.”
“Impossible,” Norton spat. “The fire—”
“Didn’t reach the vault,” she continued. “You should have doused your sins in water, not flame.”
The wind caught her veil just then, lifting it slightly from beneath, revealing only the lower half of her face. She had purposely used powder for her hair, and especially her face. If she was going to pretend to be a ghost, she must look the part.
Norton recoiled. “This is madness. You can’t threaten me. Do you haveanyidea who I am?”
“Yes,” she said, taking another step toward him. “You’re a frightened little man who lost control of a woman he couldn’t possess. You tried to silence me with flames and paperwork.”
“I did what was necessary to preserve the estate!”
“You did what was necessary to preserveyourself.” Her voice rose now, strong and clear. “And now you’ll watch it all fall apart. Elias has forged nothing. He doesn’t need to. He’ll find the truth—mytruth. And you’ll be left alone with your reputation… and your ghosts.”
Norton’s cane slipped from his hand, clattering to the stones. “This… is extortion. A threat against a peer of the realm.”
“No,” she said, drawing herself up. “This is justice. You don’t fear the law, Alistair. But maybe… just maybe… you fearme.”
For a long moment, silence passed between them. Then the wind picked up again, louder now, rushing through the yew trees with a sound like weeping. It was as if the ghosts from the cemetery were assisting her with revenge.
Isobel took one final step forward, just enough that he could see the outline of her face behind the veil. “I should be rotting beneath this earth, but instead, I walk among the stones. And I remembereverything.”
Norton’s face twisted in panic. “This isinsane! I’ll call the constable… I’ll have you arrested!”
“For what?” Elias’s voice rang out, sudden and sharp. “Being a ghost?”
Norton whipped around.
Elias emerged from behind a tomb like a specter himself, boots striking the gravel, his coat snapping in the wind. He looked like judgment made flesh, grim-eyed, calm, and utterly unafraid. Norton’s mouth opened. Then closed.
“I think you’ve said quite enough for one night,” Elias continued. “But I do suggest you get some rest, Lord Norton. You’ll need your strength for the inquiries coming your way.”
Norton staggered back another step, muttering to himself. Then, like a man finally touched by death, he turned and ran.
Not walked, butranthrough the fog, tripping once over a low stone, scrambling like a drunk through the damp grass and vanishing into the dark with his coat flying and his dignity shredded behind him.
A long silence followed.
Isobel slowly lifted her veil and exhaled, excitement mixed with fear slowly draining from her limbs. She turned to Elias. “Well?”
He grinned. “That,” he said, “was the most deliciously terrifying thing I’ve ever seen.”
She grinned. “Do you think it was too much?”
“Not in the slightest. You played the ghost better than any spirit I’ve ever met.”
She gave a small, satisfied sigh. “I suspect he won’t get much sleep tonight.”
“No,” Elias agreed, stepping closer. “But I will.”
She arched a brow. “Confident?”
“Terrified,” he admitted. “But for the first time… I feel in control.”
And with that, they walked arm in arm from the cemetery, veils trailing behind them like the past itself—finally, mercifully—laid to rest.
Chapter Seven
