Page 51 of The Unseen

I T WAS M ONDAY MORNING . L UCAS AND S EAN WERE BACK AT THE youth center and Nicole was painting again, a feeling of freedom she had sorely missed.

Over the weekend, Detective Mark York, the man who had worked with Sean after his arrest, had called to tell them Joseph Mercer had been brought in for questioning.

The police discovered that Mercer was wanted for assault in Mississippi and manslaughter in Texas, where, driving drunk, he had caused a collision that had injured four people.

In exchange for a shorter sentence, Mercer, who worked at the Golden Spike, had admitted to breaking into Belle Reve and committing a series of acts designed to force the owner to sell. He’d been hired by the son of one of the Golden Spike investors: Christian Villard.

Mercer was finished. And Christian was in very deep trouble.

Nicole felt a shot of satisfaction. She returned her attention to the canvas. She was painting Belle Reve from a different angle, the dawn sun rising, casting a golden glow over the majestic old house.

She would rather have taken a ride, gone on the road to explore new locations, but she wanted to stay close to her aunt.

Rachel hadn’t left her bed since the night Francois had disappeared. She was crushed, her heart completely broken. Nicole had phoned Rachel’s friend Maggie and asked her to come stay at the house. Sadly, Rachel had made no protest.

Dr. Marlowe had come to see her, but after his examination, he had simply shaken his head.

“She’s slipping away, Nicole. I’m not sure what happened, but something has sent her into a major decline. Perhaps you could get her to see a psychologist. If she won’t leave the house, I might know someone who would make a house call.”

“I’ll talk to her about it,” Nicole said, but she was certain Rachel would refuse.

“I’d be happy to prescribe an antidepressant,” the doctor said, “but as weak as she is, I’m not sure it’s a good idea.”

Nicole’s throat tightened. She knew what was wrong with her aunt. No psychologist would believe Aunt Rachel’s depression was caused by losing the ghost of the man she had fallen in love with.

“I know this is hard,” the doctor said. “But if something happens, your aunt’s living will makes her wishes more than clear.”

Do not resuscitate. Nicole simply nodded.

The weekend had come and gone. Rachel was eating a little better: a bowl of soup for supper, and a croissant and juice this morning.

Rachel had promised to come down later and sit in the garden with Maggie. But Nicole didn’t think her aunt would truly get well until she could accept the loss of the man she loved.

Nicole looked down at the canvas. The afternoon had slipped away, the sun shifting from east to west, the tall live oaks casting long shadows.

Nicole rubbed the ache at the back of her neck.

Satisfied with her work so far, she picked up her easel, paints, and the canvas, and carried them back to her studio.

Nicole had a date with Lucas tonight. He was taking her to the St. Francisville Inn, where they had gone before. After everything that had happened, he’d said they deserved some quiet time together.

She chose her clothes with care, a slinky black dress and very high heels she hoped would make Lucas drool.

He had called and said he’d be there at seven-thirty to pick her up.

When the car door of his silver Lexus opened, he stepped out in a perfectly tailored navy-blue suit, French-cuffed white shirt, and black Italian loafers.

She smiled. She’d wanted to make him drool, but it was working in reverse. She gave him the once-over, head to foot, and heat tugged low in her belly.

“For a onetime gangbanger and former priest, you sure know how to style.”

He laughed, bent, and kissed her cheek. “You look beautiful.”

“Thank you.”

It didn’t take long to reach the lovely historic inn on Commerce Street. The beautifully appointed old porches and parlors were charming. When Lucas gave his name, the hostess smiled and led them to a quiet, linen-draped table in one of the more intimate dining rooms.

Lucas ordered a bottle of Dom Perignon.

“Special occasion?” Nicole asked, smiling.

“It could be,” he said mysteriously.

The waiter popped the cork, filled two chilled flutes, and set one in front of each of them.

Lucas lifted his glass. “To God’s warrior woman.”

Her heart tugged. She clinked her glass with his. To the most amazing man I’ve ever met. But she wasn’t sure she should say it.

They talked through supper: how well Sean was doing in school, the painting she had just started, the weather, stories Lucas told about his past, a story from her years in boarding school—which Nicole had never told anyone.

They finished the meal. The table was cleared, and they sat back to enjoy the rest of their champagne.

“We’ve talked about a lot of things tonight,” Lucas said. “But not the most important one.”

Her nerves kicked up. Nicole made no comment.

“I brought you here, not only because we deserved a night away from the problems we still need to solve, but because I wanted to tell you what a wonderful woman I think you are.”

Her heart rate kicked up.

“I’ll never forget the way you looked standing next to me while a demon threw everything in its power against us.”

Her eyes burned.

“I’ve known for some time that you were the woman I wanted to share my life with. What I need to know is if you feel the same way.” He reached into the pocket of his navy-blue coat and pulled out a blue velvet box, flipped it open to reveal a stunning diamond solitaire engagement ring.

“I love you, Nicole. I want you to be my wife. Will you marry me?”

She swallowed, trembled. Her stomach knotted. She loved him. There was no doubt. But if she married him, she would be giving him the heart she had guarded for so many years, trusting him with her very soul.

The tears in her eyes rolled down her cheeks. What would happen to her if things didn’t work out? How could she live with the pain? What if he decided she wasn’t enough for him? Even her parents had left her.

With every particle of her being, she wanted to say yes. She also wanted to turn and run out the door, to keep going and never look back.

She could feel his eyes on her and, for the first time, glimpsed his uncertainty.

“Nicole?”

She brushed the tears from her cheeks. “I wasn’t expecting this. I don’t know what to say.”

He sat back in his chair, his features closing up. “It’s simple, really. Do you love me, Nicole?”

“Yes, but …” Her words trailed off; she was unable to explain.

“You love me,” Lucas repeated, “but not enough to marry me?”

“No … Yes … I don’t know. I wasn’t expecting this. I just … I need a little more time.”

“Funny, those are words I’ve heard before.

” Lucas shoved the velvet box into his pocket and rose from his chair.

“Time won’t change the way you feel, Nicole.

I want a woman who loves me enough to commit to me, to share the burdens and joys of my life.

As I’ll love her enough to share the burdens and joys of hers. ”

He rounded the table and pulled out her chair, helping her to her feet. “The bill is taken care of. It’s time for us to go.”

“Lucas, please …”

He made no reply, just guided her through the restaurant and out the door to his car.

All the way back to Belle Reve, Nicole’s heart throbbed painfully. She loved him. He was everything she wanted, and yet when she tried to tell him, the words stuck in her throat.

He walked her to the front door of the carriage house, used his key to open the door, then walked her inside. He left his key on the kitchen counter. “I’ll be back to pick up my things. I’ll call before I come.”

Tears washed down her cheeks. “Lucas, no … Please don’t go.”

“I can’t do it again. I’m sorry, cher. ” Turning, he made his way back to the Lexus and started the engine. He turned the vehicle around and headed back down the driveway.

Nicole watched him until the car disappeared. Fresh tears rolled down her cheeks. What have I done?

Lucas loved her, but he had taken a chance on a woman before, a woman who had betrayed him.

Just as Nicole had done.

The night was long and empty. Tears soaked her pillow. Nicole reached for the man who should be sleeping beside her, but he was gone. She absolutely understood the terrible depression her aunt had fallen into after losing Francois.

Nicole prayed for morning, and eventually her prayer was answered. She sat at the kitchen table, listless and fighting fresh tears. Lucas was gone. He would never take her back, even if she went to him and told him she had changed her mind. He wouldn’t be able to trust her again.

She loved him—that was the cold, hard truth.

But was there really a man who loved her enough to stay with her through all the years?

She thought of her parents—her mother, who had left her father for another man.

Her grandparents were divorced. She didn’t have a friend who was still married to the same man.

She hoped the shower would wash away some of her sadness, but she felt as dull and depressed as she had before. Every time she remembered the look of desolation on Lucas’s face, she wanted to cry all over again.

Dressing in jeans and an old T-shirt, she forced herself to eat a bran muffin to settle her stomach before she went over to check on her aunt. She hoped Maggie had been able to coax her downstairs and out on the terrace.

The two were old friends, but Nicole didn’t think Rachel would confide the truth of her heartbreak, that she was in love with a ghost.

Nicole left the carriage house and had almost reached the main house when she heard a car driving up the lane. For a moment, she thought it was Lucas and her heart took a leap. The black Mercedes pulling to a stop was unmistakable. Phillipe Villard had arrived.

A fission of nerves slipped through her. Jupp Mercer had confessed to sabotaging Belle Reve, and Christian had been arrested. What was Phillipe doing here?