If anyone wants to join in...there's a message board I created with my mainstream novel but there is alos a section to talk about Ghost's Shadow and Heart, so if you have questions, comments or just want to stop by and take a look you are more than welcome to email me for the link. mollymeows at aol dot com.

Ghost34

By dinner time Alex had worked himself into a frenzy. Meg told him to sit still, but by the sound of his shoes stomping on the kitchen floor he insisted on jumping like a kangaroo. My only concern was what Madeline would say at the dinner table, as Alex told her that I did not attend lunch at Julia's home. He told her in great detail that I had mysteriously fallen ill before lunch.

If Madeline thought my afternoon was filled with perverse delights she undoubtedly thought I had quite the jovial time of my life. If only she knew what truly happened…but that was information I had no desire to share. If she assumed my lunch was Julia then so be it. I would have preferred an afternoon spent in bed with her rather than alone with my stomach churning and head pounding.

With nothing else to do, I dressed early for dinner. After much careful consideration I decided I preferred wearing a hairpiece over not wearing anything on my head at all. Over the years I had acquired several and had grown accustomed to wearing one at all times. Alone in my apartments I often covered the mirrors and left the mask off, which made breathing, eating and drinking easier. Charles, Meg, Madeline and Alex all had such thick hair that, even if mine was fake, I felt like more of an equal than without it.

The mask, however, would not be practical. It obstructed my breathing and proved an inconvenience when eating. In my youth it was the only time the mask came off as I was not permitted to be without it regardless of whether I was alone or not.

I could still remember the night I ran away from home. I was terrified of losing it, so I slept with it on, which I had never done before. At night I covered my face with a blanket. Even as an adult I still drew the blanket up to my cheek and covered the terrible side.

But as a child I was not at liberty to be without my mask. To eat at the dinner table would be an unusual privilege I allowed myself. To be without my mask at the table was something I anticipated and feared. Even if they did not say a word I would know by their eyes if they preferred me away in my room.

Once I was dressed I was at a loss as to how to occupy myself. Both the cat and dog had left the room, my music was finished, and someone had taken my newspaper. After I paced the floor several times I glanced out the window toward Julia's home.

The sight made me smile. Julia was in the kitchen. I could see her through the window. It was too early to visit her, I knew. I should have waited until she called me to come to her but after my talk with Madeline I wanted to see Julia again.

My longing gaze ended once I saw Hermine skitter through the kitchen. The Leaches were visiting again. With a sigh I stood a moment longer to see if Archie was there as well, but I didn't see anyone.

Living in the house behind hers felt like punishment. Every primal urge I had was left unfulfilled. The only thing I could do was watch her stand at the cutting board.

She hadn't seemed terribly angry with me when I left, I told myself. Perhaps if I stopped by for a moment she wouldn't mind. I wouldn't stay for dinner, but if I came to tell her I was sorry for what had happened…

I gazed out the window again and this time I didn't see her little weasel friend. Again I waited a while but didn't see Hermine return. Perhaps she had gone home. With the rest of the windows dark I assumed Lisette was either asleep or still out playing.

Julia home alone was tempting. Far too tempting. If she wouldn't allow me to undress her I could at least find some satisfaction in a kiss.

"Where are you going?" Meg asked before I disappeared out the back door.

"I believe I forgot something," I replied. I wasn't a good storyteller when I was face-to-face with someone so I turned my back to her when I spoke.

"Why don't you call on her tomorrow? Dinner will be done in an hour."

"I'll return in a moment."

Meg was silent. She knew I was not telling the truth. I could feel her eyes on the back of my head.

"Twenty minutes. I'll be back in twenty minutes," I said before I shut the door.

I had a feeling she was not fooled.

The back door was unlocked when I tried the doorknob. Perplexed, I opened it cautiously and stepped inside Julia's home.

"Julia?" I called.

"I knew you would be over," Julia said. She sounded like she was in the cellar from the way her voice echoed.

"How?" I asked.

"I saw you in your bedroom window. I had a feeling you would call again," she said.

I followed the sound of her voice until I stood in the cellar. Only a candle illuminated the dank confines. Beyond the heady scent of the dirt behind the walls I smelled onions and potatoes.

"You saw me?" I asked once I found her.

"Of course. You were standing there a good fifteen minutes. I knew you would be over before supper time."

"Is that good or bad?" I asked cautiously.

When she turned she smiled at me before continuing to rummage through a wooden crate. I felt like a magnet was slowly pulling me toward her. Dinner was the least of my concerns. Though famished, the only thing I could think of was pulling out the ribbon holding the back of her dress closed and slowly exploring her body.

"You're silent," she commented. "You must be thinking."

"I wanted to offer you an apology for this afternoon."

"Oh?"

I waited for her to elaborate but she said nothing further. She didn't even turn to face me again. "Will you accept?"

"If I hadn't already forgiven you I would have locked the back door." She laughed to herself. "Well, you aren't completely forgiven, mind you. But you are excused enough where you are allowed in my house again."

When she turned I nodded.

"Would you like to know why?"

"If you would care to elaborate."

"Meg and Charles stopped by this afternoon on their way home from their walk. Meg had the most delightful things to say about you. I don't believe I've ever heard her speak of you before."

I nearly told Julia that this was because I hadn't spoken to Meg before but decided I didn't want to discuss Meg or our relationship.

"I asked her what you drink with dinner and do you know what she told me? Lemonade with a bowl of sugar if it's in season. Or tea with a bowl of sugar."

"I like the taste of sugar."

"Yes, well, she said you rarely take wine. That was comforting."

I nodded uncomfortably. She apparently thought I was not telling her the truth and needed to question another source. Her confession didn't insult me as I would have expected. I was glad for it, mostly because it was a change to have someone inquire about me and be told something good.

"Good. I don't want you to be angry with me."

"And I would rather not be angry with you."

We were both silent for a moment. The look in her eyes showed she knew exactly what I wanted and it had little to do with forgiveness, though I wasn't sure if she found it inviting or repulsive.

Lowering her eyes, Julia walked past me and trotted up the stairs. She looked back when she reached the top and I knew it had become a coy game I could not resist.

I dragged myself up the stairs, thinking the cellar would have been the ideal secluded spot to steal a kiss or two. Instead I found myself back in the kitchen.

"Would you like some?" Julia asked, holding out a mixing bowl. "Lisette and I made a cake in the afternoon. The frosting is very sweet but good. It's cherry flavored."

She held out a spoon, which I took from her hand and placed on the countertop.

"Erik, I thought—"

Once her finger dipped into the creamy red frosting her voice betrayed her. I watched her lips quiver, soundless words forming as I brought her sugar-smeared finger to my lips. Her eyes fluttered shut when I licked the frosting from her fingertip. She released a harsh breath and smiled when I drew her finger past my lips.

"We shouldn't," Julia said at last when her flesh was clean of cake frosting. She fanned herself with her free hand and straightened her hair.

"Where's Lisette?"

"With Hermine and Archie."

"For how long?"

Julia shook her head. "We can't do this."

I dipped my own finger into the frosting and held it out to her. "Would you like to taste?"

Much to my chagrin Julia burst out laughing. She nearly doubled over in her amusement, so I ate my own frosting, which wasn't nearly as tantalizing as I suspected it would have been if she agreed.

"Why is that amusing?" I asked, my irritation growing and my amorous feelings fading. It was as if an hourglass inside of me had been turned over unexpectedly. "There was nothing funny about my offer."

She shook her head and wiped her eyes. "It's not amusing. It's just maddening that you are so persistent. After everything that happened today you still come to my home and attempt to bed me. That, my dearest, is commendable though quite presumptuous."

"I never said I came to bed you," I defended myself. "I told you why I came."

"And now that you are forgiven what do you expect? What is this supposed to lead to?" she asked, doing her best to remain firm though her reddened cheeks showed she was toying with me.

My eyelids lowered in a lazy gaze. "Madame, what do you wish it to lead to?"

Julia glanced at the bowl of frosting before she trained her gaze on me once more. She held out her finger again and showed me the little dab of frosting.

"Come here," she beckoned.

I reached for her hand but she pulled away and shook her head. "I knew you would not skip a beat. You are wicked and entirely too willing," she said, hiding her hand behind her back. She laughed and nearly sank to the ground as I tugged gently on her arm. "Erik, listen to me. We cannot go upstairs. It's nearly supper time."

I glanced at the kitchen table. "If you don't want to go upstairs…"

She shrieked with laughter. "Never, you terrible man! Erik, we can't."

"But if there was time you would?"

Julia pursed her lips. "I have far greater self control than you do." She smiled again, a seductive grin that slowly killed me. "However, the frosting looked delicious."

I stared at her a moment, my eyes leaving her face. "What is it that's forbidden?"

Julia placed her hands on her hips and shifted her weight. "You know very well—"

I couldn't stand it a moment longer. I took her around the waist and pulled her to me. I had to kiss her again. If it was my only accomplishment of the day, I had to touch her lips even if it resulted in her slapping me across the face.

She went boneless in my grasp, head falling back, arms loose at her side, and a soft moan leaving her throat. I pressed my lips to hers with such longing that I had to pull away from her in order to deepen the kiss.

Her lips parted slightly and I felt the warmth and wetness of her tongue languidly moving against her open mouth. She was breathing harder and her hands came up until she clung to my back, holding on as though she feared I would let her go.

Slowly she allowed me to explore her mouth, eagerly giving into her desires by touching her tongue to mine. The little sounds she made, the whimpers and sighs, the soft groans and harsh breaths were almost too much to bear. I had her pressed between my body and the counter, her legs parted enough so that my knee rested between hers.

Everything about her felt better than I remembered. The kiss I thought would satisfy me until there was more time only made me hunger more for her.

I had never hated skirts and petticoats and drawers as much as I did in that moment of wanting and denial.