The Phantom of the Bathtub by Eugenia Riley

Author:Eugenia Riley
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Published: 2011-03-31T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-one

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Viveca soon realized it might be years before she outlived her horror over her shocking lapse with Maxwell Beecher. The passage of days did nothing to diminish her sense of mortification—or her traitorous, secret yearning for him. What had happened between them on Wednesday night had been the realization of all her fears. She had been wanton, utterly without shame. Only a latent burst of sanity had saved her from complete ruin.

And she had enjoyed it—enjoyed having the rogue all but ravish her! She was intensely attracted to him—treason though it be. There was no more denying it.

She was falling for a scamp who could only bring her disgrace just as Erskine had—possibly even worse this time. Somehow she must protect herself. It was a matter of survival now. Which meant she must avoid him like the plague.

Luckily she did not see him over the next few days. She poured herself into her duties—teaching her lessons, refurbishing her house. Hilda Patertavish, bless her heart, sent her additional furnishings—she also dispatched a crew of three laborers with paint to whitewash the exterior of Viveca’s home.

Outwardly things were going well for her. Inwardly she was a mess, terrified Maxwell Beecher would gossip about what had happened between them, or demand even more indignities for his silence. She continued to fear her past might catch up with her, that the house of cards she had built might collapse around her at any moment.

And at night, she still shuddered in her bed, flinching at every odd sound—the thud of footsteps overhead, the distant howls of dogs or wolves, the low whistling of the “Street Sweeper” outside. When the hauntings sometimes forced her from her bed, she might catch a glimpse of Murfa Divine stalking across her back yard, or the Quaking Lady out on the hanging tree. More than once she was sure she spotted Ruvi or Miguel sneaking about in the darkness.

Alex Fremont’s spirit granted her no respite, as well, although his presence was usually more emotionally wrenching than truly frightening. One night she awakened to see him standing beside her bed, his ghostly image glimmering softly as he stared at her with reproach and pain in his eyes. Another time she walked straight through him while entering the bathroom—afterward, she felt enervated, drenched with his heat, totally caught up in the unfulfilled desires that still blazed between him and Lorelei. She felt his torment on every level.

On Sunday mornings, Viveca was dismayed to note Beryl Bliss ever-present at church, freezing Viveca with her hostile glares and gushing over Aubrey after each service. One morning as Viveca visited with Agnes Endicott following mass, she spotted Beryl at the church door, clinging to Aubrey so tenaciously that she was tempted to go rescue him. Then, watching Hilda Patertavish march up to intercede, she chuckled with relief; the widow actually made shooing motions at Beryl, then firmly steered Aubrey away.

A moment later, Viveca joined them near the vestibule just in time to hear Hilda scolding Aubrey.

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