“Oh, but you must stay longer, pray!” said Lady Bertram, while Sir Thomas concurred, saying he was much obliged for Lord Eastwind’s kindness on behalf of his daughter. Certain subtle glances were executed, where Sir Thomas attempted to ascertain if there was any kind of particular interest or even a bond between the Lord and his daughter, and he appeared to be satisfied that there was a distinct possibility of such.

It seemed to him, Lord Eastwind was decidedly attentive and gallant in his manner of address, and in the way he glanced at Maria as he uttered various appropriate pleasantries at all proper points of discourse.

Fanny, meanwhile, was subtly ignored. Indeed, it was as if Lord Eastwind had made it a point of never quite glancing at her or even addressing her directly.

Such behavior did not particularly bother Fanny as much as it made her cautiously anxious. She continued to wonder also that Eastwind was now freely seen by all—visible, as a man of living flesh—and she could not help but wonder if he had conveniently fed off Maria throughout their long journey to ensure such a continued manifestation was possible.

Indeed, what was he doing here? His manifestations had been—as he himself admitted—related to Fanny alone. And now that he was corporeal indeed, and somehow having insinuated his illusion of familiarity into everyone’s perception of him, was accepted and welcomed into the family circle—what was his true intent?

There was not a chance to ponder overly long, because Edmund, of all people, approached Lord Eastwind in an interlude when no one else but Fanny seemed to be paying attention, and asked him point blank: “Pray, do not think I don’t remember now who and what you are, sir. You are an unholy ancient monster, thoroughly undead and Cursed, and I will not allow this family to suffer any more evil, not even if it means another scandal. Therefore I must ask, what are your intentions here? And what are your intentions for my poor long-suffering sister Maria?”

“For your sister, none whatsoever,” replied Eastwind. And then for the first time his glance turned to Fanny.

Fanny felt the sudden gust of hot dry wind of the desert, a heady lungful of perfume from distant ancient lotus blossoms, and a memory of a brilliant blue sky. His gentle, familiar, beloved eyes were watching her. It was as though no time had passed, no monstrosity of death itself had surfaced to stand between them. Her heart rebounded with a surge of emotion, an overwhelming, impossible, undeniable pull. . . .

And then Fanny took a deep breath, and forced herself to look away. She looked at Edmund instead, to anchor herself in the present. Was Edmund, she wondered, even now truly cognizant of any of this?