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Manor protagonist Leone mansion secrets buried story eerie elements unresolved family Gothic character through becoming whispers itself grief suspense Themes

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A tense moment passed before anyone spoke, and to his surprise, Beline was the first.

“I see I have no reason for any further concern,” she hissed.

“None at all.” Ben agreed with a nod. “She will be well cared for.”

Beline waited for a beat as if expecting more. When no one else spoke, she silently dismissed herself. Remi did not follow half as quickly, though he expected she might be giving her aunt a head start. Finally, she stood.

“I should go,” she said, rising from the chair.

Ben watched her from the corner of his eye, the other half of his attention on the remainder of his breakfast. It was brief, but when she looked back at him before the doors closed for good, he caught something—the hint of a secret smile gracing her subtly curved lips.

Simple, yet satisfying all the same.

REMI

Remi found herself cornered outside the dining room for a second time.

“You’d best watch yourself around him,” she warned. “He’s a scoundrel, I can tell.”

If only she knew, Remi thought. “Of course, I’ll be careful.”

Ben, like Beline, was easily managed if she avoided him. After their heated battle in the study, Remi surmised he would leave her alone for the day. It was her aunt whose temper was hard to curb, and it wasn’t as easily solved as a slap across the cheek.

“You are the lady of this estate,” Beline reminded her, though she herself conveniently ignored that fact moments prior. “Don’t forget that.”

“I could never, Tante Beline,” Remi said. “Not when you’re gracious enough to remind me.”

Her aunt ignored the snide quip.

“The audacity of him! I’ve never been treated as such or spoken to in my life,” Beline went on.

Where is Elise when I need her? Remi thought, suppressing her distress.

Her cousin was nowhere to be seen, not that she could steal a moment to go off in search of her. It was draining enough to sit through the reading, but the longer she spent around anyone else, especially her aunt, the more tired she grew. Remi’s eyes felt as heavy as the knot in her chest.

“You look pale, Remi.” Beline bluntly stated. “Perhaps you should take some fresh air.”

Remi straightened, deciding to grasp the opportunity. She feigned concern. “I couldn’t leave you.”

“You can, and you will. I would hardly want you to faint in front of all of these people.” Beline gestured subtly to the mourners. “What an embarrassment that would be.”

Naturally, you’re only worried about yourself, Remi thought. Still, fresh air was a welcome change. Excusing herself, she waded through the throng of guests, patient with them as they passed along their condolences. It would be a relief to escape their grievous expressions and her growing nervousness.

Once outside, Remi walked along the side of the manor to the garden’s gated entrance. It was alive with greenery, more overgrown by weeds than any actual flower. The wisteria, always vibrant, seemed to sag in respect for the occasion. The weight eased itself from her burdened shoulders as she sat on a low bench. She closed her aching eyes against the cool breeze and drew in a deep breath of fresh air. The ground was soft underfoot, wet from last night’s rain, and while the sky appeared as dark and brooding as Ben’s expression, it held back for the time being.

Remi unpinned her veil and set the hat down beside her. She loved the smell of flowers after a long rain. It was exactly what she needed.

“Your aunt just told my mother what your stepson said to her this morning,” a voice chuckled.

Her momentary peace was lost.

“Hello, Leith.”

“My sweet, sweet Remi.” A young man with dark gold, feather-like curls sunk beside her on the bench. His honey-brown eyes sparkled. “You look miserable.”

“I haven’t been sleeping well,” she said, suppressing an ill-timed yawn.

Leith took one of her hands and patted it. Though their friendship was unconventional, he was one of her oldest friends, and it felt good to have him there.

“I didn’t expect to see you,” she said.

“Well, you know me.” He winked playfully. “I enjoy a passionate rendezvous in the garden with a beautiful woman as much as the next gentleman.”

Remi scoffed and pulled her hand away from his. Leith was never serious about anything. He was an endless flirt, but as much as it vexed her, she still felt special that he continued to shower her with so much attention.

“Yes, but most gentlemen are not as fickle as you.”

Leith retracted with a gasp. “Fickle? Me?”

“You are.” She leaned toward him. “Admit it.”

He shook his golden curls and grinned. “Never with you, my sweet Remi.”

There was a sincerity to his voice that left Remi raw. She had missed him since the months following her wedding. Given their history, it never felt appropriate to visit; Leith was a virile creature with a known reputation for being a tomcat. It would look poorly upon her reputation as Madame Leone if they were seen together.

“How are you feeling?” he asked with a frown.

“Not well. I’m exhausted by everything these days.”

Leith considered her answer, appraising her tired appearance carefully. Finally, he smiled a wicked smile. “Should I ask my dear Didier to prepare you a tonic? He is quite skilled with his hands.” He leaned in closer so that their foreheads were nearly touching. “Or should I sneak into your room this evening and make love to you until you are weary with sleep?”

“Leith,” she hissed, flush with embarrassment. “Enough of that.”

“It was good before, no?” He wriggled his brows.

Remi covered her reddening face. “We were only children then.”

“Who is teasing?” He chuckled low in his throat. “Perhaps I shall have my way with your stepson then, and after, you can join us.”

“Please refrain from calling him that!” she exclaimed, turning more serious.

Qu'est-ce que c'est?” He grasped her chin and gently forced her to look at him. “You are too serious, ma cherie. I cannot tease you today.”

“Unless it has escaped your notice, my husband is dead,” she said sternly, pulling her chin from his grasp. “I am in mourning.”

“As you may well know,” he said, “widows are my specialty. Just last week, I spent a full two nights with a young woman who told me her husband died overseas! And guess what, cherie?”

Remi sighed. “What?”

Are sens