Chapter Five

H e'd waited six hundred years for his revenge. Six hundred. He shook his head in disgust with himself as he reappeared on the battlements. She was Eleanor's granddaughter. This was his chance. He could get her to sit on the wall and then muster every ounce of his strength to heave her over. But—

"You're very predictable, Lord Harwich."

He ground his teeth but didn't turn to her. For the first time in a half-dozen centuries, he couldn't hide. He didn't know how he felt about it. "Why do you constantly search me out?" He raised his somber gaze to hers. "I will never be yours."

She paused her steps and stared at him, then asked with a quick succession of blinks. "What?" Fire engulfed her cheeks. "Why do you assume I want you? I sought you because once again, you pulled the truth out of me, only to run off!"

"Run off?"

"Disappear. Whatever. You leave."

"Montgomery, I ask you again, why do you care?"

"Don't call me Montgomery." Now, she glanced away from him with her chin to her chest.

"Why not?" he asked, moving closer to her ear. "Does it shame you?" As it should, he wanted to add, but didn't.

"I've always been afraid to even entertain that she may have been guilty and she got away with it."

"Why were you afraid to entertain it?"

She took a step back. She intrigued him, tempted him to smile instead of plan his revenge.

She's Eleanor's granddaughter, he reminded himself.

"Because she was a true monster. It means I have a monster's blood in me. And I believe it because my mother was a monster too."

Oliver noted the mournful catch in her voice and inched closer. Were those tears gathering at the rims of her russet lashes? What did she mean her mother was a monster?

"Now I understand why you disappear. I wish I could do it right now."

"I can understand you being ashamed of your family name," he told her. "But why do you want to hide your tears from me?"

She glared at him through glistening eyes. He wanted to step closer and wipe her tears as they fell.

"Maybe I just want to be alone."

He ground his jaw, frustrated that he didn't understand women and angry with himself for not wanting to go. He'd caused her melancholy by bringing to light the terrible truth. A truth she hated. Her mother was a monster. He didn't want to leave her alone.

"Go, will you?"

He scowled but disappeared from where they stood.

She looked around, ensuring he was gone, then squatted and crossed her arms over her knees and bent her head. "Oh, how could you kill him? How did you rip his gauntlet off his hand to free yourself from his desperate grasp? Was his precious life worth the fiery pits of hell because that's where you belong?"

His precious life? What was this he was hearing coming from a Montgomery's lips? Hovering over the wall on the sea side, Oliver doubted the good of his ears. Was she cursing her distant grandmother? He never would have expected it.

A bit dazed, he left her alone as she wished, but he still watched her from the turrets until she left the battlements. When she did, he followed after her and hid high up in the rafters, staying out of her sight. He didn't interrupt her while she made endless phone calls and spoke to the workmen about the structure of the fortress. She knew much about it. In fact, whenever she spoke of it, her voice changed and the glint in her eyes proved she loved Graven.

Oliver had wanted Eleanor to love Graven. Instead she took his life in it.

Confused by what he was feeling toward another Montgomery, he stayed away from her until the sun set. When the last of the workmen left his station for the night, Miss Montgomery remained behind.

Oliver didn't know why she didn't leave. There was only candlelight here. There were none of the comforts of the current century. Why would she remain when everyone else left?

"Lord Harwich?" she said as she sat at the dining hall table to eat her peanut butter and jelly sandwich. "You're welcome to join me."

He appeared in the seat opposite her at the table more quickly than he intended.

"Have you been tailing me all day?" she demanded softly.

"Tailing—"

"Following me," she clarified.

"Ha! Of course not. I have more important things to see to than spending my time pining—"

Her eyebrows raised. Fire flashed across her eyes and her smile teased. "I'll never be yours."

He stared at her for a moment then he couldn't help but chuckle. "If I wanted you to be, you would."

She laughed with surprise and he watched life blaze through her cheeks. "Do you want to bet?

Did she just—? "Yes, I'll bet."

"Okay, if by some miracle you win, you can…" She thought about what to offer him if he won her.

"If I win," he told her, breaking her indecisive silence. "You must remain with me here as my servant for one month."

"No," she refused flat out.

"Two weeks," he amended quickly.

"No."

"Then what?" he asked.

"I'll stay the month, but not as your servant."

He wanted to ask her what she would call herself if she stayed another month. Another month? What had gotten into him? He didn't want her and her crew here for three months and here he was asking her to remain even longer!

"Deal," he agreed and looked down at her extended hand.

When she realized what she was doing, she pulled back and laughed.

But he didn't want to laugh. He wanted to feel the heat of life in her, the delicacy of her grip.

"If I resist your wiles," she went on, "I'll leave Graven to crumble. The only reason its restoration was so important to me was because it was nice to have something that belonged to a woman who fought for her innocence and won. But none of that matters anymore."

"That sounds more like a prize for me," he said, his smile growing into a grin.

"Yes." She ground out a short laugh and returned to her sandwich.

He watched her, noting the resignation behind the veil in her eyes. Restoring Graven Fortress had been important to her. Would she truly give it up? For him? What had changed? What had convinced her of Eleanor's guilt?

Would she truly leave? The thought of her not being here to converse with him, no longer seeing him left him feeling colder than the deepest fathoms of the sea.

Would he cease to be once these walls fell? What if he remained, aching for a woman he could never touch. "Montgomery, I can't allow this."

She looked up and a lock of her hair fell out of her bun and tumbled to her waist. "Can't allow what?"

"Hmm?" he asked, staring at the lock.

"Lord Harwich, what can't you allow? That you don't hate this Montgomery?" She smiled at him, setting his ghostly heart to pounding.

He nodded his head. "And I don't want her to go."

She was silent for so long he thought he said too much.

Then, "I couldn't stay for any length of time with no work going on."

"Why not?" he asked, looking surprised, as if he couldn't believe the words coming from his mouth. "There is a roof over your head in every room."

She gave him a playful, scornful look. "My, but you're obsessed with me, Oliver Gracehaven."

He laughed as if her suggestion was the most preposterous thing he'd ever heard.

But it wasn't.