Someone to Love Read online

  “You know, don’t you, that the excitement would have worn off. I know men like Danny Longstreet, everybody does. It’s the novelty that he likes. He would have been good to you until he got used to you, then he would have gone back to his other women.”

  Jace was quiet, listening, hoping he’d hear something, but the house was silent. Feeling like a fool, he turned onto his side and closed his eyes. He wasn’t drunk, but he’d had enough wine to make him sleepy. Nigh was just a room away and he liked that. Smiling, he drifted into that state of half-asleep, half-awake.

  “Loved me,” he heard. “Danny loved me.”

  “I don’t blame him,” Jace whispered.

  Just as he fell asleep, he heard a voice say, “Told me so.”

  10

  Jace and Nigh were sitting at the kitchen table eating the huge breakfast that Mrs. Browne had begrudgingly prepared for them. Jace had gone downstairs first and done his best to prepare his housekeeper for the shocking fact that a woman had spent the night in the house with him. Only not “with” him, but…Jace had rolled his eyes in exasperation at himself for his intimidation by the woman.

  But Mrs. Browne was not to be placated. When Nigh walked into the kitchen, Mrs. Browne humphed until he thought the plaster might crack. She fried a second plate of bacon and eggs, then she’d left the kitchen, as though she couldn’t bear to be in the same room with a woman like Nigh.

  “Would she be that way with any woman who spent the night here?” Jace asked. “Or is it just you?”

  “Mostly me. She doesn’t approve of my job. Thinks it’s ‘uppity’ and not a job for a proper woman.”

  “Ah. Your job. And just what is it you do?”

  Nigh started to tell him, then stopped. “Spelunking.”

  Jace chuckled. “You’d better eat all of that. We might not get much for lunch.”

  Nigh ate a piece of fried bread dipped in runny, yellow egg yolk, then asked, “We?”

  “Unless you have something else you have to do. If you’re going to be my research assistant…” He shifted in his seat. “By the way, what salary do you want?”

  “None. Finding out things about this house is reward enough for me.” The moment the words were out of her mouth, Nigh knew she’d said the wrong thing. What did he think, that she was doing this because she’d fallen in love with him? But she said nothing; she wanted to see what he’d say.

  Jace started to say something but stopped. He was frowning as he looked down at his plate. “Nigh,” he began slowly. “About…” He hesitated. “About ‘us.’ I can’t…I mean, I don’t want you to think—”

  She cut him off. “You don’t want me to think that you are the prize? Really, Mr. Montgomery, you should get your ego in check. I know I was drunk last night and I’m sure I made a pass at you, but then I make passes at lampposts when I’m drunk—which explains why I’m usually very frugal about drinking. I apologize for whatever I did.”

  “You didn’t do anything,” he said quietly. “Actually, it was me who did—or didn’t do—anything. I just wanted to say that there are things in my life that…” He broke off and said nothing else.

  “I’m glad we have that settled,” Nigh said, but couldn’t keep the anger out of her voice. “I understand that you are off limits. I’ll stay away from the booze from now on. Now, how about we look into our mutual interest, which is the history of this house?”

  “Sure, okay,” Jace said. He felt bad about what she was thinking, bad about not telling her the truth. If he had any sense at all, he’d…what? Go home to the United States and forget all of this?

  He looked at the top of her head. “I’m not sure, but I think Ann may have spoken to me last night.”

  “What did she say? ‘Get in an alcohol treatment program’?”

  “No, but she did suggest that I send you,” he said solemnly.

  Nigh tore off a piece of bread and tossed it at his head. He ducked and it missed him.

  “Now I know how Lewis felt.”

  “Lewis?” Nigh said, aghast. “Please tell me that I didn’t talk about Lewis last night.”

  “You beat him up when you were six.”

  Nigh groaned. “Never again allow me to drink. Please.” She took a breath. “What did Ann really say?”

  “I was mostly asleep, but I think she said she loved Danny Longstreet.”

  “Better than all her other suitors? Poor Ann was shut up in this house all her life. When she was a child, the villagers used to wonder about her and thought maybe she was deformed.”

  “Actually, she’s quite pretty. When I saw her—”

  “When you were hiding in the wardrobe?”

  “Right. When I was hiding in the wardrobe, she was lamenting that she wasn’t as pretty as her cousin Catherine. But standards of beauty change. Today Catherine would be ordering diet pills off infomercials and Ann would be a model.”

  “Hardly a model. She wasn’t tall enough. She—” Nigh broke off because a brown pottery bowl fell off a shelf on the dresser and loudly crashed to the floor.

  Nigh looked at Jace and he looked back at her. “On second thought,” Nigh said carefully, “I think Ann was every bit as beautiful as any model we have today.”

  Jace gave Nigh a look to let her know she should be careful of what she said. Together, they began to clean up the broken crockery.

  “So Ann loved Danny Longstreet,” Nigh said as she swept broken shards into the pan Jace held steady. “Actually loved him.”

  When Jace didn’t answer, she looked at him and saw the glazed expression on his face. “What is it?”

  “I have it wrong. Ann didn’t say that she loved Danny, she said that Danny loved her. And he told her so.”

  Nigh looked around the room nervously. “Excuse me for saying this, but I don’t think so.”

  Jace dumped the shards in the trash bin, then sat back down at the table. “You’re basing your opinion on the Longstreet you know today. Maybe Danny was different.”

  “I’m basing my opinion on the fact that the parish register says that a village girl gave birth to Danny Longstreet’s child a few months after Ann’s death. He impregnated her while he was engaged to Ann. Is that true love?”

  Jace looked at her with interest. “You have done some research, haven’t you? So tell me what happened to Danny.”

  “He died from a fall from a horse four years after Ann’s death. Never married.”

  “Any more kids?”

  “Just the one that I know about. The girl wasn’t married to Danny, but she gave the baby the name of Longstreet. Gerald in the village is descended from that child.”

  “If she gave the baby the name of Longstreet, Danny would have had to agree, wouldn’t he? He didn’t marry her, but he must have admitted that the child was his,” Jace said.

  “And maybe supported it as long as he was alive. Danny’s father was quite rich.”

  Jace thought for a moment. “So what happened to Ann’s letters? Victorians threw nothing away. Maybe they’re in the library and we could—”

  “Burned,” Nigh said. “After her death, her father burned everything that had belonged to Ann.”

  “All the letters? Maybe he missed something. Maybe in the attic we could find something.”

  “Arthur Stuart not only burned all of his daughter’s letters, he burned all of her possessions. He was in a rage after his daughter killed herself on her wedding day. He had all her furniture, her clothes, everything hauled downstairs, taken out back, and burned. He wouldn’t even give it away to charity. The local vicar kept a journal and I’ve read it. The whole village went to see the bonfire. Arthur Stuart said his daughter was roasting in hell and that’s where all her belongings should be too.”

  “Nice man,” Jace said. “No wonder Ann was willing to marry someone with half her IQ just to get away from him.”

  “And no wonder she loved him. Maybe he would be unfaithful, but he had a generous enough spirit to allow his illegitimate child to have