Midnight Bayou

stepped back and walked out of the room.
    She kept calling his name as she started up the stairs. When she reached the first landing, the hidden door in the wall opened. She and Declan choked back simultaneous screams.
    With a gasping laugh, she clutched at her heart and stared at him. He had cobwebs in his hair, dirt smeared on his cheek and hands. The flashlight he carried bobbled.
    “Lord, cher , next time just shoot me and get it over with.”
    “Same goes.” He blew out a breath, dragged at his hairand the cobwebs lacing it. “You scared five years off me.”
    “Well, I called out a couple times, then decided I’d just hunt you up.” She peered over his shoulder. “What’ve you got here, secret passages?”
    “No, servants’ access. There are doors on every level, so I thought I’d take a look. It’s kind of cool, but a real mess.” He looked down at his filthy hands. “Why don’t you go fix yourself a drink or something? I’ll clean up.”
    “I might be persuaded to fix us both a drink. What’re you in the mood for?”
    “Could use a beer.” But he was studying her face now that he’d recovered from the jolt. “What’s wrong, Lena?”
    “Nothing, other than you frightening the wits out of me.”
    “You’re upset. I can see it.”
    She tried a suggestive smile. “Maybe I’m sulking ’cause you don’t bother to kiss me hello.”
    “Maybe you don’t trust me enough yet, and figure all I’m looking for with you is a good time.” He used one knuckle to lift her chin, stared into her eyes until hers began to sting. “You’re wrong. I love you.” He waited a beat, then nodded when she didn’t respond. “I’ll be down in a minute.”
    She started down the steps, then stopped, speaking without looking back. “Declan, I don’t think you’re looking for a good time, but I don’t know as I have what it is you are looking for.”
    “Angelina. You’re what I’ve looked for all my life.”
    H e didn’t press. If she needed to pretend she wasn’t upset and skittish, he’d give her room. They took a walk through the rear gardens as dusk crept in.
    “This place. All these years, people come, people go. Mostly they go. And here you are, doing more in a fewmonths than anyone’s done since before I can remember.”
    She turned to study the house. Oh, it still needed work. Wood and paint. New shutters here and there. But it no longer seemed . . . dead, she realized. It hadn’t just been abandoned, it had been dead until he’d come.
    “You’re bringing it back to life. It’s more than the money and the work.”
    “Could you live here?”
    Her eyes, startled, even panicked, whipped back to his. But his gaze stayed calm and level. “I have my own place.”
    “That’s not what I asked. I asked if you could. If you could be comfortable here, or if the idea of sharing the place with . . . ghosts or memories, whatever you’d call it, would bother you.”
    “If it bothered me I wouldn’t have come over tonight so you could feed me. Which reminds me, what are you feeding me, cher ?”
    “I’m going to try my hand at grilling tuna.” He pulled his pocket watch out. “In a bit,” he said after checking the time.
    She was mesmerized by the watch in his hand. Her stomach jittered as it had done when she’d seen the candlesticks. “Where did you get that?”
    “I found it at a shop today.” Alerted by her tone, fascinated by it, he held the watch out. “Look familiar?”
    “You just don’t see many men using that type of watch anymore.”
    “I knew it was mine as soon as I saw it. I think you bought it for me,” he said, and her head jerked up. “A long time ago.” He turned the watch over so she could read the inscription on the back.
    “Lucian’s.” Because her instinct was to curl her fingers into her palms, she made herself reach out and touch the engraving. “Very strange. Strange indeed, Declan. You think I was Abigail?”
    “Yeah, I do.”
    She shook her head. “Don’t you think that’s a little too neat and tidy—and self-serving?”
    “Murder, despair, suicide, a century of wandering souls?” He shrugged and slipped the watch back in his pocket. “Not very tidy, if you ask me. But I think, Lena, that maybe love is patient enough to wait until its time comes around again.”
    “God, you are so . . . appealing. And it’s irritating that I have to be the sensible one around here. I like being with you, Declan.”
    She toyed with the key