“Miss Halloran. Sadie!”
Rome fades away, the Spanish Steps crumbling, the stars falling from the evening sky. I blink—once, twice. I’m no longer with Weston. Instead, Beckett is holding me, his chest bare, his mouth set in a hard line. Thunder crackles overhead as rain sheets down, soaking my hair, a shirt flung over my naked shoulders. Beckett’s shirt. I’m outside, without a stitch on apart from his shirt. Oh God. Shame and embarrassment flood through me.
“Come on. Let’s get you inside,” Beckett says gently. “You were sleepwalking again.”
He guides me across the lawn and up the steps. The house is watchful. Wary. Once inside, I grasp the same velvet shawl I wrapped Marguerite in the day I arrived and cover my bare breasts. I let Beckett’s wet shirt drop to the floor. He averts his eyes as I wrap the shawl around myself as best I can, my face on fire, even as my body shivers from thecold, drenching rain. “I’m sorry,” I say. “I hope I didn’t ... I hope I didn’t do anything improper.”
“It wasn’t for lack of trying.” Beckett frowns. “You thought I was him. You called me by his name. Tried to kiss me.”
“I ... I must have been dreaming.”
“Yes. You were.” He picks his wet shirt up from the floor and turns away, his shoulders falling. “I’ll stoke the water heater. Run you a bath.”
“You don’t have to do that.” I stand there, awkwardly bouncing on my heels.
“Do you want a hot toddy?”
“No. It’ll only make me tired.”
“Yes, but youneedto sleep. You’re exhausted, Sadie. I’ll stay in the house with Marguerite until Harriet and Melva get here. I can’t do any work in this rain, anyhow.”
I don’t have the wherewithal to argue, so I accept the hot toddy when he brings it to me and let him lead me to the steaming bath. I’m shaky, out of sorts. After he leaves, I cast off the shawl and sink into the enamel tub. The water surrounds me, warming my skin. I’m horrified that Beckett saw me naked—that I was acting out my liaison with Weston in the real world. Did I really throw myself at Beckett, as he implied?
After my bath, I dry off and dress in the modest cotton nightgown Beckett placed on the hook by the door. I pad shyly into the hall. Beckett is there, sitting in a chair with yesterday’s paper. He looks up at me, his eyes touched with sadness.
“You didn’t have to wait for me,” I say.
“I was afraid you might fall asleep in the tub.”
“You’re too kind.” I bite my lip, study my bare feet. “Beckett ... please don’t tell anyone about this. I’ll get hold of myself. I will. I just need some sleep.”
He closes the paper and stands. “Sadie ... you should consider what we talked about.”
“You mean my leaving, don’t you?”
“It’s the only way you’ll be safe. That man—that entity. Marguerite says he’s attached to the painting.” He sighs. “Sybil ... wandered the property. Just like you. She wouldn’t listen to my concerns. She became angry. Hostile.”
I stiffen. “And you think the same thing will happen to me?”
“Yes. I do.” His tone gentles. “Can’t you see why I’m worried?”
I consider his words. His concern for me. Beckett isn’t prone to hysterics or exaggeration.
I think about what I’m doing with Weston, and how my actions are carrying over into the real world. But while Beckett thinks I’m being reckless and that Weston is dangerous, what he and I have togetherseemsso real. So good. I’ve not seen an iota of malice, or violence, or anything to fear from Weston. Nothing at all about him frightens me, apart from the fact that he’s a ghost. We’ve had eight encounters since that first night of passion in the Brookside gardens, and after each one, I’ve only felt more alive. Happier than I’ve ever been.
I lay my hand on Beckett’s arm. “Thank you. For taking care of me tonight. For your concerns. But I’m just fine, I promise you.”
He sighs. “Go get some rest. Don’t worry about Marguerite. Sleep as long as you can. I’ll have Melva wake you before dinner.”
I feel Beckett’s eyes on me as I walk down the long hallway to the attic stairs. I must be more careful. More diligent about hiding my nocturnal affairs from him. I fall into bed, my body heavy with exhaustion, and allow sleep to overtake me.
Chapter 15
August 8, 1925
“Sadie. Are you listening to a word I’m saying?”
I lift my head, focusing on my brother. He looks so much like Da. Same dark hair. Heavy-lashed blue eyes. “I’m sorry. Could you say again?”
