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“Mr Evans, I don’t mean this rudely, but you’re a strange man!” Maggie said honestly.
Mr Evans winked.
Chapter Three.
Melisandre
“Darling, I’m home!” Melisandre called as she flew through the doors of Waverley Hall. Waverley reached out to welcome her, and Melisandre revelled in the love Waverley projected at her. Melisandre sent a wave of affection at the Hall and then hunted down her husband and two children. Nicholas was lying on his back, wearing his Georgian clothing, with their twins crawling over him.
Three years had passed since the events that freed the Rakehell Six from a lifetime of torment. Melisandre had given birth a year after they’d married, and the twins had arrived six months ago. Nicholas and Melisandre sported a son and twin daughters. And they were as blissfully happy as when they had first met. Nicholas had worked hard to familiarise himself with modern-day technology and was now counted amongst one of the finest breeders of horseflesh in the world. Their puppies were also in high demand, and Nicholas made astute investments, growing the Mortimer fortune again.
Nicholas grinned up at her from the pile of children lying on top of him. Melisandre sighed. He was as handsome as ever and still made her heart stop with his smile.
“Welcome home, my love; how did the consult go?” Nicholas asked.
Melisandre had cut down on her work a lot. She only took projects that caught her eye now, and when Uncle Ben had dragged her from their house this morning, Melisandre had been resigned. But Nicholas noted a glow about her. Melisandre was excited about something.
“I found them!” Melisandre crowed. She reached over and rang the bell for Nanny to come and collect the kids. This needed to be discussed without little ears listening in. Bending down, Melisandre sat on the floor and played with the children until Nanny arrived to take them away. She could see the burning question on Nicholas’s tongue, but he showed remarkable self-constraint until the youngsters had gone. When Nanny shut the door, Nicholas pounced on his wife and gave her a heartfelt kiss.
“Found who, darling?” Nicholas murmured as he brushed the hair from her eyes. Melisandre smiled sweetly up at him.
“Those we’re meant to help!”
Confusion crossed Nicholas’s face as he gazed at her.
“Huh?” he replied intelligently.
“Do you remember Michael saying there will be others, and our paths will cross?” Melisandre said, bouncing on his lap. Nicholas gave a wince as a specific part of his anatomy perked up in reply. Melisandre snorted and wriggled just to tease him a little more. Nicholas’s blood rushed to his manhood as he tried to concentrate on what his beloved wife was telling him.
“Others?” he asked, giving up and nibbling on her neck.
“Other ghosts!” Melisandre cried, and Nicholas froze.
Nicholas
“Oh no, no, no Melisandre. No more ghost adventures. We regained the Rakehell Six, and we’re all perfectly happy trotting along, making money and producing children,” Nicholas chided.
“Michael told us we are meant to help the others. That together, we would bring forth light to this world. Are you going against an archangel?” Melisandre retorted.
“Is that a trick question?” Nicholas asked, carefully craning his head about. There’d been moments the last three years when he’d thought he’d sensed one of the archangels. He and Melisandre most definitely had when she’d given birth, but there had been rare occasions when he felt someone watching him and bathing him in love.
“No. Nicholas, seriously, we visited this inn. It’s called the Jekyll and Hyde and dates back to Tudor times. It is beautifully preserved for the main part, but there’s this stubborn woman, and she’s bought it. Maggie is her name, and she’s attempting to restore it, and the ghost won’t let her. He keeps trying to chase her away.”
“Okay, so how does that situation have anything to do with the Rakehell Six?” Nicholas inquired carefully.
“Because darling, he died between Emile and yourself,” Melisandre crowed. Nicholas felt a sudden sinking sensation in his stomach. No, it couldn’t be.
“What is his name?”
“Lord Lucian Norton…” Melisandre said.
“The God damned Earl of Castleton! Lucifer!” Nicholas howled in denial. Melisandre’s eyes widened so much that Nicholas thought they might pop out. She was unceremoniously dumped on her bottom as Nicholas leapt to his feet and began pacing back and forth. Every other word that left his mouth was a curse, and Melisandre’s jaw dropped open. Finally, Nicholas ran out of things to say, and Melisandre stared at her husband, ready to do battle.
“Finished?” she asked sweetly.
Nicholas collapsed in a chair and eyed her balefully.
“Not Lucifer,” he almost begged.
