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struck. “I came
to bid you good-bye. I do not have to suffer your insults. Farewell, Branson. I
wish you good fortune and … and happiness.” She choked down tears.
    “If that was truly your wish, then you
would not be leaving me. Why are you going?”
    She shook her head but would not look at
him. If she saw his face, she would lose her nerve. “I told you there was
someone watching us and you would not believe me. It was her. She told me she was watching us. She—she knew things. She said
you told her everything.”
    “Who? What the hell are you saying?”
    “ Grace
Leeds! She said she is your wife.”
    Branson did not answer. The rain that had
been threatening since daybreak began to fall. He grabbed Clara’s arm and
dragged her under the portico. Branson seized the collar of her cloak. “What are you trying to do to me—drive
me mad? Grace Leeds is dead .”
    “I saw her in the
chapel! She was wearing my wedding dress. She tried to kill me! I managed to
escape with my life and that’s when Strachan found me on the road. He brought
me to Petherham where I would be safe.”
    Branson flicked his
tongue over his dry lips. He rubbed his brow and pressed his fingers to his
mouth as he contemplated Clara.
    “Is that your story,
then? That is your excuse for running back to Strachan—you claim you saw a
ghost. Either you are mad or you are trying to make me believe that I am.”
    “I am not mad.” Her
hand balled into a fist and she stepped in front of him. “You do not frighten
me anymore, Branson. Either you are lying or the woman who attacked me in the
chapel is. She called herself Mrs. Branson Reilly.”
    “If such a woman
exists, then where is she? Haunting the forest? Hiding in the trees? I returned
from the village and when Piers told me you were missing, I rode out looking for
you. I searched everywhere, Clara. No one could have escaped my notice in any
direction. There was no one on the road or in the park or on the forest path. You
must have stumbled and struck your head. That is the only explanation for this
ludicrous tale.”
    Clara fought to
maintain her composure. “If I had any doubts about leaving you, this
conversation has banished them. I saw Grace in the chapel. She claimed to be your wife. She was standing at the
altar, as though waiting for her groom. I asked her about the lake and she said I was there . What did she mean? There
is something you’re not telling me. Why do you hate my father so much?”
    “There is plenty I am
not telling you and I never will because my business is not your concern. Your
father has held me in contempt for the past ten years. It is unsurprising that
I hate him and want to bring him down.”
    “No, it is more than
that. She insinuated your revenge had something to do with her. If the
encounter was supernatural, then Grace Leeds is trying to tell me something
from beyond the grave. And if it was a hallucination, then where is my wedding
gown? I haven’t seen it since I arrived. If Grace was not there, then where is
my wedding gown?”
    Branson met her eyes
with pity.
    “Don’t look at me like
that,” she cried. “I can take almost anything you have done to me—but not your
pity. Do not give me your pity, Branson. I saw her, I know I did!”
    “The wedding gown is
in your trunk. Piers cleaned it and packed it as it was obvious you did not
intend to stay. You’ll find it there when you arrive in London.” Branson’s
expression hardened. “I don’t know what you experienced in the chapel. A
nervous collapse brought on by the strain of being left at the altar. You
concocted a vision, gave her the name Grace after my dead fiancée, and then used
an imagined attack as an excuse to run back to Strachan.”
    “I am not insane,” she
said through gritted teeth. “I did not imagine her and I did not b-b-bring the
wedding g-g-gown to the ch-ch-chapel!”

Chapter Five

 
    “LOWER YOUR voice,” Branson hissed. “Calm down. Take a
breath. I don’t