The Unquiet - J. D. Robb [117]
She wouldn’t think about that now. She would concentrate, instead, on the future. It had to be brighter than her recent past.
She was attempting a smile as she opened the door to the cottage.
Her smile faded at the sight of Jamie standing by the window, arms crossed over his chest, his usual scowl darkening all his features.
She pulled the door shut and dropped her camera and computer on a nearby table. “How can you be miserable on such a lovely day as this?”
“What’s lovely about it? As far as I can see, ’tis just another day spent trapped in this hellish place. And now you actually plan on bringing strangers here. Tradesmen, village wenches. Busybodies. And all of them crowding my space.”
“They’re necessary to help with the work. If you’re worried about feeling crowded, there are plenty of places you can go to escape. There’s always a walk in the hills, or a swim in the lake.”
“If only I could. Alas, I’m confined to these four walls and that”—he pointed toward the manor house—“hellish site of my betrayal.”
Betrayal. The word brought her up short. Perhaps someday he would tell her how he’d been betrayed, and by whom.
For now, she pushed aside the thought, hoping to distract him and his famous temper.
“What would happen if you tried to hike the hills or swim in the lake?”
“Do you think I haven’t tried? Each time, I’ve come up against an impenetrable wall. The few times I was desperate enough to try bullying my way through, I was so weak I had to take to my bed with utter exhaustion that went on for years.”
“Years?”
“Well, ’tis true that I have no concept of time anymore. Years are like minutes, really. And minutes like years. At any rate, I’ve no desire to pit my will against the wall again. It completely drained me. And so I’m here. Just here, until such time as I’ve earned my freedom.”
Though she hadn’t expected to, Bree felt a wave of sympathy for this being. What would it be like, she wondered, to spend eternity trapped between two worlds, unable to move forward or back?
She walked to the bedroom and hung her jacket in the closet. When she turned, she realized that Jamie had followed her.
“You spent a great deal of time up there.” His tone was accusing.
She arched a brow and tried for a light touch. “Did you miss me?”
His scowl deepened. “Now, why should I miss an annoying intruder?”
“Why indeed? Especially since I saw you there, hovering, eavesdropping everywhere.”
“And why not? ’Tis my home you’re about to rearrange to suit your whims.”
“I’m sorry for that, but I have no choice.”
“We all have choices.”
“Mine have narrowed considerably.” She studied him carefully. “How is it that I could see you, and Gwynn and Duncan couldn’t?”
He shot her a wicked grin. “ ’Tis a trick I’ve learned through the ages. I can appear and disappear at will, allowing some to see me while remaining invisible to others.”
“That little trick would come in handy if I wanted to spy on someone who was bent on deceiving me.”
His smile fled. “Aye. ’Twould’ve served me well in life. Alas, I’ve only mastered it in the past hundred years or so.”
She walked to the kitchen and set the kettle on the stove before removing the foil from a dish that Gwynn had sent.
Jamie peered over her shoulder. “Is that a potpie?”
Bree nodded. “Chicken. Gwynn made it while Duncan and I toured the house, and insisted that I bring it home for my supper.”
He