Her hair was matted and wild, her white gown streaked with mud that dripped, it seemed to drip, into a filthy pool over her bare and bloodied feet. She carried a long, curved blade in one hand, a rope in the other. And her face was a mask of bitter rage.

“You see her, don’t you? You see her.” Hayley shuddered now from fear and cold.

“Yeah, I see her.” In one easy move, he changed his stance so Hayley was behind him. “You’re going to have to get over it,” he said to Amelia. “You’re dead. We’re not.”

The force of the blow lifted him off his feet, shot him back five feet to slam against the wall. He tasted blood in his mouth even as he shoved clear again.

“Stop! Stop!” Hayley shouted. Force of will and fear had her pushing against the freezing wind toward Harper. “He’s your great-great-grandbaby. He comes out of you. You sang to him when he was a boy. You can’t hurt him now.”

She started forward, with no clear idea what she would do if she reached Amelia. Before Harper could yank her back, a gust of wind knocked her off her feet and sent her sprawling. She thought she heard someone scream, in rage or grief. Then there was nothing but the sound of the storm.

“Are you crazy?” Harper dropped down beside her to prop her up.

“No, are you? You’re the one whose mouth’s bleeding.”

He swiped the side of his hand over it. “You hurt?”

“No. She’s gone. At least she’s gone. Christ, Harper, she had a knife.”

“Sickle. And yeah, that’s a new one.”

“It can’t be real, right? I mean, she’s not corporeal, so the rest of it isn’t real either. She couldn’t slice us up with it. You think?”

“No.” But he wondered if she could make you imagine you were cut, or do yourself some kind of harm defending yourself.

She stayed on the floor, getting her breath back, leaning on him as she stared through the open doors. “When I first came here, when I was pregnant, she’d come to my room sometimes. It was a little spooky, sure, but there was something comforting, too. The way it seemed she was just looking in on me, seeing if I was okay. And this sense I got, this wistfulness, from her. And now she’s—”

She was on her feet and running the instant she heard the singing come through the baby monitor.

She was fast; Harper was faster and got to Lily’s door two strides ahead of her. Quick enough to throw out an arm and block her. “It’s okay, it’s all right. Let’s not wake her up.”

Lily slept in the crib, curled under her blanket with her stuffed dog. In the rocking chair, Amelia sang. She wore her gray dress, her hair in neat coils, and her face was calm and quiet.

“It’s so cold.”

“It’s not bothering the baby. It never bothered me as a kid. I don’t know why.”

In her chair, Amelia turned her head to look over. There was sorrow on her face, grief, and, Hayley thought, regret. She continued to sing, low and sweet, but her gaze was on Harper now.

When the song was done, she faded away.

“She was singing to you,” Hayley told him. “Some part of her remembers, some part of her knows, and she’s sorry. What must it be like, to be insane for a hundred years?”

Together, they crossed to the crib where Hayley fussed with the blanket.

“She’s okay, Hayley. Lily’s just fine. Come on.”

“Sometimes I don’t know if I can take it, this roller-coaster ride through the haunted house.” She pushed at her hair as they walked back to Hayley’s bedroom. “One minute she’s knocking us around, and the next, she’s singing lullabies.”

“Dead lunatic,” he pointed out. “Still, maybe it’s a way of telling us she might come after you or me, but she won’t hurt Lily.”

“What if I do? What if she does what she did at the pond, and makes me hurt Lily, or someone else?”

“You won’t let that happen. Sit down a minute. You want something? Water or something?”

“No.”

He eased her down so they sat on the side of the bed. “She never hurt anybody in this house. Maybe she wanted to. Maybe she even tried, but she never did.” He took her hand, and because it still felt chilled, rubbed it between both of his. “That’s one thing that would’ve gotten passed down. A crazy woman attacking a Harper, or even a servant. It would’ve been reported, and she’d have been taken away, put in jail or an asylum.”

“Maybe. What about the sickle, and the rope? That says: I’m gonna tie somebody up and slice them to ribbons.”

“Nobody ever got sliced to ribbons in Harper House.” He rose to move over and close her terrace doors.

“That you know about.”

“Okay, that I know about.” He sat again. “We’ll pass this on to Mitch. He can look into police records maybe. It’s an avenue.”

“You’ve got this calm surface,” she said after a moment. “It’s deceptive, seeing as there are all these little hot pockets under it. Shows me I don’t know you as well as I thought I did.”

“Back at you.”

She sighed, looked down at her hands as they sat on the side of her bed together. “I can’t just sleep with you. I thought I could—at first. Then I thought, I can’t go jumping on that. I do and he’s going to get hurt. She’s going to hurt him.” She looked up. “You were right about that.”

He only smiled. “Duh.”

She gave his arm a swat. “Think you’re so clever and smart.”

“Only because I am. You can ask my mama, when she’s in a good mood.”

“You’re easy to be around, except when you’re not.” She studied him, trying to take in all the new things she was learning. “I like that, I guess, finding all those under-the-surface pockets. And God knows you’re nice to look at.”

“How big a fall are you building me up for?”

“It’s not—” She shook her head, rose to wander the room. “I’ve got all these feelings stored up, and all these needs. It’d be so easy to set them loose on you.”

“I don’t recall putting up a fight.”

“I didn’t know you looked at me, not that way. Knowing you did, you do, just adds to everything. I’ve never been kissed like that in my life, and I’ve been kissed pretty good now and then. If she hadn’t come in here when she did, it’s likely we’d be in bed right now, going where that kiss was leading.”

“That’s no way to make me feel fonder of my great-great-grandmother.”

“I’m not feeling so fond of her myself. But it gave me time to think instead of just want.” Ordering herself to be sensible, for both of them, she sat on the arm of a chair. “I’m not shy about sex, and I think if you and I were somewhere else, in some other sort of situation, we could be lovers without all these extra complications.”

“Why do people always think being lovers shouldn’t be complicated?”

She frowned, then shook her head. “Well, that’s a question. A good one. I don’t know.”

“Seems to me,” he began, crossing to her. “That there are flings, and that’s uncomplicated by design. Nothing wrong with it. But being lovers, going into it thinking about more than a night or two, that should have weight. You’ve got weight, you’ve got some complications.”

“You’re right, I can’t say you’re not. But there’s a lot to consider before we take a step like this. I think we need to be sure it’s the right thing for both of us before we take that step. There are things we don’t know about each other, and maybe we should.”

“How about dinner?”

She stared up at him. “You’re hungry?”

“Not now, Hayley. I’m asking you for a date. Have dinner with me. We’ll go into the city, have a meal, listen to some music.”

Her shoulders relaxed and the tight coil in her belly loosened. “That’d be good.”

“Tomorrow?” he said as he drew her to her feet.

“If your mama or Stella can mind Lily, tomorrow’s fine. Ah, we’ll need to tell them about what happened. About Amelia.”

“In the morning.”

“It’s a little awkward, explaining how you were in here, and what we were doing when—”

“No.” He took her face in his hands, laid his lips on hers. “It’s not. You going to be all right now?”

“Yeah.” She looked over his shoulder to the doors he’d shut. “Storm’s passing, you should go now, in case it decides to rain some more.”

“I’ll bunk in Stella’s old room.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“We’ll both sleep easier that way.”

SHE DID FEEL better, even though it didn’t exactly cajole sleep to imagine him just down the hall. Or to imagine how easy it would be to tiptoe down there, slide into bed beside him.

She had no doubt they’d both sleep a lot easier that way.

It was hell being responsible and mature.

Even a bigger hell to realize she cared about him more than she’d bargained for. But that was good, wasn’t it? she thought as she tossed and turned. She wasn’t a slut who hopped into bed with a guy just because he was good-looking and sexy.

Some people might think differently, because of Lily, but it hadn’t been that way. She’d cared for Lily’s father. She’d liked him. Maybe she’d been careless, but it hadn’t been cheap.

And she’d wanted the baby. Maybe not at first, she admitted. But after the panic and pity, the anger and denial, she’d wanted the baby. She’d never wanted anything in her life as much.

Her beautiful baby.

She’d taken nothing from the father, had she? The spineless, selfish bastard who’d used her grief to have his way. That hadn’t been stupid. She’d been smart not to tell him, to go away, keep her child to herself. Only hers. Always.

But she could have more, couldn’t she? She was thinking about this all the wrong way. Why should she work? Sweat and slave, settle for a room in the great house. She could have it all. Her child would have it all.

He wanted her. She could play this well. Oh yes, who knew better how to play a man. He would come begging before she was done, and she would bind him to her.

When it was done, Harper House would be hers, hers and her child’s.