Hello my dears! I promised a chapter today and here it is! Once again, I thank you all so, so, so, so much for following this story and leaving such wonderful reviews! You make me incredibly happy!

In return, I give you a new chapter!

Enjoy! And HAPPY HALLOWEEEEEEEN!

Disclaimer: I'm very sorry to tell you that the Haunted Mansion is not mine. (Nor is Jane Eyre.)

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1880

I could hardly believe that a year had passed since Edward returned to Gracey Manor. So much had happened.

Lady Gracey was now living comfortably with her brother's family on the outskirts of London, and Edward received letters from her every few months, detailing her enjoyment of London society and wishing him, and on the rare occasion even me, good health. Ramsley, unfortunately, still remained with us as head of the staff and as a personal advisor to Edward, who greatly appreciated the help and companionship of his mentor. It had taken only a day after Lady Gracey's departure for Ramsley to come to me and offer up an explanation of his actions - of how Lady Gracey had commanded him to treat me so coldly, and how years of loyalty to her had blinded him to the injustice of her actions towards me, and - most importantly - how very sincerely he apologized for any harm he might have caused me. I had been fully prepared to laugh in his face...

…But then I thought of Edward.

Now that he was officially master of this house, a heavy burden had been placed on his shoulders, one that I knew I was unprepared and unable to help him with. Ramsley, on the other hand, had been tutoring Edward since infancy. He knew everything there was to know about running the manor and he knew Edward better than anyone. Maybe even me. For every fault that I could find in Ramsley, Edward could find a strength. He trusted him. And right now, he needed him.

I never did tell Edward the true extent to which Ramsley was involved in my torment, but I was eager to forget that time as soon as possible anyway, and had yet to receive any harsh word from the old butler since Edward's return, and so we were able to coexist peacefully…or so I believed at the time. I still tried to avoid his icy stare as much as I could.

My life had changed dramatically over the course of a year. I was once again settled into the bedroom I'd grown up in, and was amazed to find all the old trinkets I'd been forced to abandon still sitting in their rightful place, though the room itself had to be aired out a bit. Edward had offered to move Emma and Ezra into a more luxurious suite as well, but they had declined.

"We've lived in these quarters for so long…well…it just wouldn't feel right." Emma had explained, despite his insistence.

The biggest surprise came when Edward announced that he wished to introduce me into society as a lady and an official member of the household. Seamstresses and tutors had been called in by the dozen, and I'd been almost drowned in new dresses and lessons in etiquette, art, and literature, which, thanks to Emma, I had a head start in. I did apologize numerous times to Ezra for the awful comment I'd made after the funeral, but found that I couldn't find the will within me to allow myself to play again, at least not while the memory of my father's death was still fresh in my mind. He graciously understood, and found a new occupation dropping in on my etiquette lessons and mocking me shamelessly, much to my amusement, and the frustration of my tutors.

Among the greater changes in my life was also my reconnection with the twins, who were overjoyed to hear from me and confirmed my suspicions that none of my letters had reached them, nor theirs me. They'd both been horrified to hear of what I endured in their absence, but were very excited when I told them of my reunion with Edward, hinting in a not-so-subtle way their expectations that it wouldn't be long before I wrote to them with good news – though I promptly denied this assumption. After all, though my affection for Edward continued to grow stronger with every passing day, his behavior towards me had remained chaste and even reserved; he showed me only the tenderness that a brother might show his sister.

But unfortunately, this was the least of my worries.

I had been enormously blessed upon my entrance into society to be greeted with kind words of welcome from many of the friends Edward introduced me to, though I was still most comfortable by his side. However, the backlash was much greater than either of us had hoped. Though Edward tried to hide it from me, Ramsley was very careful to make sure I was aware that several business partners had cut off connections with the family, and that even a few of Edward's closest friends had stopped responding to his calls and inquiries.

But what caused me the greatest fear were the threats we had received, on both Edward's life and mine. I was unfortunate enough as to stumble upon them one day when I caught Emma throwing several letters into the kitchen fire, and I had gone to Edward to express my concern immediately.

"I can't begin to tell you how sorry I am that you've had to encounter such ugliness, dear Elizabeth. But I assure you with the utmost confidence that there is no need to fear." He quickly assured me.

"But how can you be so sure? Look at all the danger my presence here is causing, Edward, and tell me how I can ignore this!"

"Oh, Elizabeth!" Edward rose from behind the desk to take my hands in his. "All you have done is given me a friendship more loving and trustworthy than any I've known on this earth. These are nothing but empty threats! It is not your being here that angers them; it is that they wish they were in your place."

Suffice to say, I was unconvinced, but so far his analysis of the situation had held true, for the threats had come to a stop and no harm had befallen us. In fact, as if to prove how unfazed by the threats he was, Edward had begun to direct his attention to the restoration of the manor, hiring dozens of craftsmen and artisans to restore the paintings and architecture to their full glory, and hiring on more staff to assist in the upkeep of the house.

The addition of so many people to the household meant that Gracey Manor was bustling every day with more life and activity than I had seen since the days leading up to that fateful Christmas ball.

But I couldn't help but feel that a storm was coming…

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"'Do you think I can stay to become nothing to you? Do you think I am an automaton? – a machine without feelings? And can bear to have my morsel of bread snatched from my lips, and my drop of living water dashed from my cup?'" I read aloud from the book on my lap.

It was a hot and lazy Sunday afternoon, and I had managed to talk Emma into slipping out of the mansion for a while to take our usual reading session on the banks of a nearby river which ran just a little way beyond the large oak tree. With us was also Laura, the new scullery maid, who at thirteen years of age had already proved to be a bit too inquisitive for my liking, though Emma insisted that I give the girl a chance. And so that was how I now found myself - sitting at the base of a tree and reciting Jane Eyre while the two of them listened from a log close by.

"'Do you think, because I am poor, obscure, plain and little, I am soulless and heartless? You think wrong! – I have as much soul as you, - and full as much heart! And if God had gifted me with some beauty and much wealth, I should have made it as hard for you to leave me, as it is now for me to leave you."

"Is this supposed to be fun?" Laura droned.

I bit my upper lip to keep from growling at her as I turned my head and met her uninterested gaze.

"You didn't have to come along, Laura." I frowned at her. "And if my reading is so incredibly dull to you, then perhaps you would like to return to the kitchen to finish cleaning."

"Alright you two!" Emma intervened, placing a hand on the girl's shoulder. "That's quite enough of that. Elizabeth, you read beautifully. Please continue."

With one more sharp look at Laura, I lifted the book and went on.

"'I am not talking to you now through the medium of custom, conventionalities, nor even of mortal flesh; - it is my spirit that addresses your spirit; just as if both had passed through the grave, and we stood at God's feet, equal, - as we are!'"

"As we are."

The familiar voice immediately brought a smile to my lips. As Emma and Laura both leapt to their feet, I lowered the book and looked over my shoulder to see Edward coming up behind me, looking just as handsome and graceful as ever. After all this time, it was still a sight that could send butterflies through my stomach.

"Good afternoon, Master Gracey." Emma bowed her head, as did Laura.

"A very good afternoon to you as well." He greeted cheerfully. "Forgive me for interrupting."

"Not at all." I assured him, placing the book on the ground and climbing to my feet. "We were just enjoying a bit of Miss Brontë's work."

"Yes, so I heard." He smirked.

"What can we do for you, sir?" Emma asked him.

"Well, I'm afraid I have to be the bearer of bad news. There's some ghastly-looking storm clouds headed this way, and I don't want you three being so far from the manor when it hits. I'm here to escort you back to the house." He explained apologetically.

"Of course, sir. We'll head there right away."

Emma took hold of Laura's hand - despite the girl's obvious disdain at the gesture – and swiftly began to drag her back up the bank towards the garden path, leaving Edward to turn and offer his arm to me with a gentle smile.

"Shall we, my lady?" He raised his eyebrows.

"We shall." I grinned, wrapping my hands around his arm and trying to discreetly pull myself close to him.

Later, I would learn that he had noticed.

The two of us began to follow Emma and Laura back the way they had gone, but we'd barely taken two steps before I suddenly came to a halt.

"Oh, my book! I almost forgot!"

Detaching myself from Edward's arm, I hurried back to the tree where I'd left the book lying on the ground and reached down to retrieve it, all the while silently scolding myself for being so careless.

That's when it happened.

A sharp crack pierced the air, and before I could even process what was happening, my shoulder was on fire.

It was a pain far different from being hit – that was the first thought that my brain was able to process. The second thought was a realization.

That sound…that was a bullet.

Someone had just tried to shoot me.

In a daze, I lifted my fingers to my arm, letting out a hiss of pain when they came into contact with the place where the bullet had grazed me. All I could hear was my heart pounding in my ears as I brought my hand down and stared numbly at the blood on my fingertips.

The next thing I knew, two hands were wrenching me around.

"Elizabeth!"

Edward threw his arms around me, pulling me to him and clutching me with a desperation that brought tears to my eyes, though as I began to shake against his chest I wondered if it might have simply been the realization of how close I had come to death.

"Elizabeth! Oh god, Elizabeth!" He whispered in my ear.

My fingers held tightly to his jacket; he was shaking just as badly as I was.

"Edward…" I whimpered.

He gently pushed me back so that he could take my face in his hands, and as I stared up into his dark eyes, I was shocked by the sheer terror I saw within them.

"Are you hurt? Were you hit?" He asked me.

I shook my head.

"Just a scratch, Edward. I promise. I'm alright." I spoke softly, trying to calm myself as much as him.

His jaw clenched and he gave me a barely discernable nod before holding me to him once more. In any other situation, I would have been thrilled at being held this way…but now I depended on it to keep me standing.

"We need to get out of here." Edward pressed quietly but urgently.

Without a moment's hesitation, he reached down and lifted me up into his arms, carrying me quickly away from the place that could have been my death bed. A small part of me wanted to insist that I could walk just fine, but as I gazed up at Edward's face above me, and saw the agitation written so clearly across his features, I decided to ignore this voice and to let my head fall into its natural place on his shoulder.

After all, if the rapid beating of his heart could tell me anything, it appeared that he needed me as much as I needed him.

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It was quite late when I found myself seated with my knees up in the window of my room, having finally been left alone with the doctor after being examined and fussed over by nearly every other person in the house, most especially Emma. She had been hysterical when she'd heard what nearly happened to me, and I'd had to tell her quite firmly to stop blubbering while she helped the doctor bandage my arm. The only person I hadn't seen recently had been Edward, who – after ensuring I was in the doctor's care – had rushed off without a word and not returned since, much to my worry.

"Well, Ms. Henshaw, with a little rest and care, I'd say your arm should be perfectly fine. Just try not to wander too far from the house next time." The doctor smirked, picking up his bag.

"Thank you, doctor." I smiled and gave him a grateful nod. "I'll try my best."

"I certainly hope so. Good evening, then, Ms. Henshaw."

He gave me a half bow and bid me farewell, going to the door and pulling it open…only to reveal Edward standing on the other side and looking quite conflicted, as though he had been trying to decide whether or not he should enter. Either way, I felt a great sense of relief come over me at the sight of him.

"Pardon me, Master Gracey. I was just taking my leave." The doctor explained.

"Not at all, doctor." Edward waved his hand dismissively, stepping inside. "How is your patient?"

"She is doing just fine, and has been wondering where on earth you've been." I answered lightly, shifting in my seat so that I faced the doorway and my legs dangled just above the floor.

At the sound of my voice, Edward's gaze moved to me, and his expression immediately softened. His eyes, however, were still filled with dread, and as he gave me a bittersweet smile, I wanted nothing more than to take him in my arms and assure him that everything was alright. The doctor took one look at us and used the opportunity to slip out of the room, closing the door quietly behind him and leaving me alone with my companion.

For a long time, we simply stared at each other. And then Edward was across the room and taking me into his arms.

"I'm sorry, Elizabeth. I'm so, so sorry." He whispered.

I pushed back on his shoulders so that I could peer curiously into his face.

"Sorry? Whatever for?" I asked him.

"For…" He turned his head away shamefully. "…for not protecting you. I promised that nothing would harm you as long as I was here and then today…"

His voice trailed off and his eyes clenched shut as he tried to calm himself, and I stood to my feet, bringing my hand up without hesitation to cup his cheek and turn his face back to me, though his eyes remained shut.

"Edward…what happened today was not your fault." I told him quietly.

When his eyes suddenly snapped open, I was taken aback by the pure anguish I saw within them.

"How can you say that?" He demanded. "You came to me and told me you were frightened, and I brushed it aside!"

"And what could you have possibly done? You couldn't have known-"

"I should have known, Elizabeth, don't you understand?" He pleaded, taking my hand from his cheek and clasping it in his. "I should have been more careful. I shouldn't have let you go there on your own! I should have-!"

"What? Kept me locked away inside for all eternity?" I joked half-heartedly, much to his chagrin.

"I should have done something." He insisted vehemently, leaning down to press his forehead against mine as his eyes closed and his hands gripped my wrists.

The gesture was so unexpectedly intimate that, despite the circumstances of the situation, my heart began to pound madly in my chest.

"Do you know what I went through when I heard that gun go off?" Edward's voice shook when he spoke. "One minute I was watching you lean down to grab that book, and then the next thing I knew…oh god…you cried out…and for a moment I thought my whole world had shattered. One bullet. That was all it would have taken to rip you away from me."

Tears welled in my eyes. I could hardly breathe.

"Edward…" I whispered, trying not to let my voice break.

His eyes opened, and in the moment that our gazes met…suddenly I knew.

I was his.

My heart, my soul…my love…they were his and his alone.

Before I could stop myself, I had raised up onto my toes and was pressing my lips against his.

At first, Edward stiffened in shock, and I was overcome with the terrifying thought that I'd been right all along and that he felt only a familial affection for me. But then his lips moved forward to claim mine, and all of my fears melted away.

It was a frantic kiss, filled with years of longing and sorrow and grief and driven by the fear of what would happen should we let ourselves part. But it was also a beautiful kiss, overflowing with a passion and devotion so powerful that surely not a force on earth would dare to break it.

Edward was kissing me. Edward was kissing me.

His hands slipped around my waist and drew me tightly to him, and – ignoring the painful throb that came with such an action – I all too eagerly wrapped my own arms around his neck, giving myself the pleasure of allowing my fingers to run freely through his thick, dark hair as we continued to press our lips against each other's over and over again. I didn't even notice the happy tears that were dripping down my cheeks until Edward gently kissed them away, then moved back to whisper against my lips.

"Sweet Elizabeth…"

He kissed me again - much softer this time - and then he pulled back to stare into my eyes.

"…I love you."

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We'll see about getting another chapter up today…in the meantime, have a wonderful Halloween and stay safe tonight!