She turned toward the new voice, surprised to see Lord Stamford standing there. His hair and linen shirt were damp, as if he’d just come in from the storm.
“Who were you talking to?” he asked, threading his way through the cluttered attic to her side.
Her heart sank. It felt weighed down by the ghost’s lingering sadness, mixed with the realization that Lord Stamford found her talking to an empty room. He would see her as addled now. How could he not?
“Eve?”
“I thought I saw Alfred come up here.”
At the sound of his name, the cat hopped down with a heavy thump from a rocking chair with a padded cushion. He gazed at them, then sauntered to the stairs and left.
“How did you find me?” she asked.
“I saw the candlelight in the window from below. No one ever comes to the attic, so I came to investigate.”
And found her talking to a ghost; only Lord Stamford couldn’t see the specter. “Now that I’ve found Alfred, we can go.”
“One moment.” Lord Stamford stroked her cheek with his thumb, wiping away tears she hadn’t realized were there.
Her cheeks flamed with embarrassment. She was talking to herself and crying in an attic of abandoned furnishings with a faded, old gown in her arms. One did not get odder than that. Her chest grew tight, and a lump formed in her throat.
Lord Stamford studied her a long moment. Then he gently removed the gown from her grasp, folded it, and laid it atop the trunk. Without a word, he put his hand on her lower back and guided her back down the stairs to the corridor.
Once the door was shut, he turned to her.
Eve braced herself for the questions she knew would come. The curious stare and hasty retreat he would likely make.
The earl was quiet for a long moment. Then he offered his arm. “Would you care for a tour of Greyhaven?”
She glanced at his arm, then up to his eyes, searching them for what he might be thinking. As usual, his thoughts were carefully concealed behind a mask without any emotion. She fervently wished he’d show her more of the man beneath. He seemed haunted, even pained. Perhaps, with time, he’d show her why. Eve nodded and took his arm.
They walked in silence as he led her down a short flight of stairs into a long hall filled with portraits. “This is the family gallery. Every ancestor who lived here and some from before that.”
The paintings were large, some taller than Lord Stamford. He stopped at each, telling her what he knew about them. For some, he gave only a name, such as with the painting of the man who would have been his great-grandfather. There was a wildness about his great-grandfather’s eyes that Eve found unsettling, and she urged them on to the next portrait.
They came to an open space on the wall between two other portraits. When the earl would have continued, Eve pointed to it. “Where is this painting?”
Lord Stamford stared at the spot. “I don’t know. It was gone when I arrived. I’m not certain what ancestor it would have been. Come along. Let me show you the ballroom.”
Eve followed, wondering about the missing painting. She hadn’t seen a portrait of the ghost she’d spoken with. She didn’teven know his name. It was possible that he wasn’t part of the family. Yet something in her heart said that his existence was linked to that painting.
The ballroom was larger and grander than Lady Levinson’s, with its tall windows and gilded columns, though somehow sad in its disuse. Next, he showed her the library lined with bookshelves, with plush chairs, and sofas to read upon.
“Did you live here as a child?” she asked. They’d been speaking only of books until now. Nothing personal, and she very much wanted to know Lord Stamford.
He hesitated. “No. In fact, I hadn’t been here at all until I inherited the title. This was once the family seat, but it hadn’t been used in some time.”
“Did it fall into disrepair?”
“No. There were tragedies here. After that, my family chose to never return.”
Eve thought about the man she spoke with in the attic. Something had happened to the woman he loved. Something tragic. “Why did you choose to live here?”
“I had no choice,” he murmured.
She turned to him. His dark blue eyes appeared haunted, then the emotion was gone. Buried behind a stony expression.
“Tell me about yourself, Eve. You’ve yet to share even your last name.”
