Behind the Light of Golowduyn (A Cornish Romance Book 1)

by Deborah M. Hathaway

  Myles stirred on the bed, a moan coming from his opened mouth.

  “Seek out the constable,” Gavin said, “and fetch Mr. Rennalls.”

  “Yes, sir,” the lieutenant said.

  He left as Abigail returned with water and rags. Myles stirred again.

  “Myles?” Gavin spoke softly, moving to the boy’s side and leaning over him. “Can you hear me?”

  The boy grimaced, his head shifting from side to side as Abigail removed his wet boots, revealing bare, wrinkled feet. Gavin flinched at the smell.

  “Can you tell me who has hurt you?” he asked as the boy groaned.

  Myles’s left eye was swollen shut. The blood draining from his body soaked the sheet near his head.

  “Abigail, will you help me with his head wound?” he asked, tearing open Myles’s shirt. Newly-formed bruises speckled his ribs and chest.

  Abigail slid his hair from his brow and wiped a rag across the blood. The boy tossed again.

  “Myles?” Gavin repeated.

  Finally, one of his eyes opened before he winced and closed it again. “Cap’n? Where…”

  “You are in the lighthouse, Myles,” Gavin explained. “You are badly wounded. A physician has been summoned, but—”

  “No!” the boy suddenly cried out.

  His eye was wide open, and he pushed Abigail away. Anger surged through Gavin’s chest, and he held the boy’s arms down as Abigail backed away. Gavin would not allow any harm to come to his wife, no matter if the boy was injured or not.

  “Calm down,” he said firmly.

  “No, not ‘fore I…” Myles’s words slurred together. “Sir, I need to speak with ye. I need to tell ye…”

  He pulled his arm from Gavin’s grasp and clawed at his chest, as if wishing to pull his skin aside. His face contorted with agony.

  “What happened, Myles?” Gavin asked. “Who did this to you?”

  “Dealt with the wrong sort o’ people, sir. Just as I ‘ave me ‘ole life.” His voice was raspy, his pain evident with each word he spoke. “But I deserve the fate that’s comin’.”

  Gavin felt a soft hand on his arm. He turned to see Abigail extending a glass of brandy toward him and motioning to Myles.

  Gavin nodded his thanks before offering it to the boy.

  Myles turned away. “I don’t deserve your ‘elp. Not after what I done.”

  His brows turned up, his face crumbling. If Gavin didn’t know better, he would never have believed that this was the same boy who contributed to the shipwreck—who had tampered with the anchor cables, destroyed their property at Golowduyn, and spat on and cursed Gavin.

  Myles’s demeanor was completely altered. The anger was gone from his eyes. Only pain and anguish remained.

  Gavin couldn’t understand the change, but he also couldn’t bear to see the boy suffering, despite all that he had done. “Rest now, Myles. Do not—”

  “‘Twas I,” he said softly, ignoring Gavin’s words. “I done it all.”

  Gavin exchanged glances with Abigail, who silently watched the exchange near the bedside.

  “I was angry,” Myles said. “I started the fire on the ship, cut the cables, just to keep me brother from hangin’. I never ‘spected ye’d save us. That made me only angrier. And after what you did t’ me brother…ye didn’t deserve ‘appiness. Ye deserved suffering.” He drew in a wheezing breath. “Which is why I…I did what I did ‘ere. I thought if enough ‘appened, ye’d be miserable, same as I.”

  Another hoarse breath caused a fit of coughing to overtake him. Blood flew from his mouth across his body and the white sheets. Gavin jerked back but not before being sprayed himself.

  “Stop speaking, Myles,” Gavin said. The boy needed to rest, to stop tormenting himself.

  “But I was so angry,” Myles continued. “I was so angry that I…I killed ‘im.”

  A heavy feeling settled in the pit of Gavin’s stomach. “Who, Myles?”

  But the boy’s eyes were no longer on him.

  They were focused on Abigail.

  Abigail couldn’t breathe.

  “Who did you kill, Myles?” came Gavin’s repeated question.

  “I’m sorry,” the boy said with a muffled sob. He coughed again, drawing his arm up. Blood dripped from his skin. “I’m sorry. ‘Twas me, ma’am. ‘Twas me who killed your uncle.”

  Her whole frame shook, her legs weakened. She took a step back, shaking her head. No, no, the boy was lying. He couldn’t have killed her uncle. Uncle Ellis had slipped off the side of the cliff. He was drunk.

  Her head whirled as the boy continued. His eyes were closed, his mouth crinkled as he barely restrained his emotion. “We sat at the same table in the tavern. We’d ‘ad a few drinks before ‘e told us the cap’n had taken a likin’ to ‘is niece. Every game, ‘e won, ‘til I ‘ad nothin’ else. I couldn’t stand the way ‘e praised the cap’n, and then boasted in ‘is own winnin’. So I followed ‘im.”

  He shaded his eyes with a shaking hand. “By the cliffs…I’d only meant to take ‘is winnings. But ‘e told me ‘e gave ‘em away already to pay off his gamin’ from another night. I was so angry, I…I pushed ‘im, and ‘e fell on the grass and just…just slid. Right over the edge. I didn’t mean…I didn’t mean to…” Another cry, another cough. Blood drained from the corner of his mouth. “I’m sorry, ma’am. I couldn’t die without…without telling ye…I’m sorry.”

  Tears spilled down Abigail’s cheeks. She felt as if she was watching her uncle die right before her eyes again, so fresh was the pain in her heart.

  The stench of alcohol on his breath, like Uncle Ellis’s. The boy’s eyes were blue—like Uncle Ellis’s.

  Abigail stepped toward him, moving around Gavin and sitting on the bed beside the boy. Myles’s shoulders shook as he attempted to restrain his cries and coughs. She raised a rag to his face, wiping the blood spilling down his chin.

  “Thank you for your honesty, Myles,” she said, her voice soft as she pressed the cool rag to his brow. “Rest now. And know that I forgive you.”

  * * *

  Myles succumbed to his wounds shortly after his confession. After the lamp had been refilled, and Lieutenant Harris, the constable, and Mr. Rennalls left with the body, Abigail had finally broken down. Gavin held her through most of the night, cradling her in his arms until she finally fell into a dreamless sleep.

  The next day, they received word that a man who Myles had once worked with at the local farmer’s had been arrested for the boy’s death. After being robbed by the boy with a gun—which Myles had stolen from his previous employer’s—the man had exacted his revenge at night, under the cover of darkness. Myles must have known his death was imminent after the beating, so he stumbled to Golowduyn to admit his guilt before meeting his Maker.

  After learning the news, Gavin had ridden to St. Just to deliver his testimony in writing about Myles’s state before his death. While he was away, Abigail remained at Golowduyn, pouring over her uncle’s old letters and journals.

  By the time Gavin returned, dinner had come and gone, but there was still light enough for them to take a walk up to Uncle Ellis’s gravesite on the cliff behind Golowduyn.

  Gulls cried above their heads, and the sea sparkled in the evening light. A few pink flowers dotted the edge of the cliff—the last remaining of the season. Abigail stared at the foot of the grave, grass just beginning to sprout on top of the dirt.

  “I have not been up here since Uncle’s funeral,” she said, taking a deep breath of the fresh air around her. “After I learned what he did, I could hardly bear to think of him. But after Myles’s confession last night, I was relieved to discover that Uncle had not chosen to leave me after all. In truth, he fought for me until the very end.”

  She raised the small book she had clasped in her hands. “His journal. I left it untouched in the bottom of his trunk, unable to read his words until this morning. There are many pages in which he expressed his struggle with drinking and gaming. But he always ended
each entry with these words.” She turned to a page and read aloud. “‘Remember Abigail. Remember why you brought her to Golowduyn. Remember to give her the life that she deserves.’”

  She lowered the book and looked to Gavin, whose dark eyes shone with tears of his own. With a smile, she turned, taking a step forward and kneeling before her uncle’s grave.

  Her whispers disappeared on the wind as she spoke. “I am sorry you could not overcome your past, Uncle. But I wish you to know, I am overcoming mine.”

  She remained there for a moment, drawing in a deep breath as she felt the pain of her past life lifting from her heart, easing with each moment that passed by.

  Yes, she was moving on from her past. All with help from Gavin.

  She looked over her shoulder and saw him patiently waiting for her, his eyes filled with understanding and compassion.

  She stood and returned to his side.

  “My uncle did his best,” she said, “so that is the memory I will keep of him.”

  They shared a smile, and moved away from the grave, heading down the curved pathway toward the lower cliffside.

  “May I ask you a question, Abigail?” Gavin spoke quietly, continuing after she nodded. “How were you able to find forgiveness for Myles after what he’d done?”

  She gathered her thoughts for a moment before her eyebrows drew together. “How could I begrudge the boy whose life I understood so fully? When I looked at him last night, I saw my uncle reflected in his eyes…and myself. Not who I have become, but who I was before—a lonely child, mistreated by those who should have loved me best. I shudder to think how my life might have mirrored Myles’s, had Uncle not brought me here…or had you never come to Golowduyn.”

  They reached the cliff’s edge, the glowing sun shining before them, the ocean’s waves rolling softly toward the shore below.

  She turned to face him. “Which is why I need to ask you if you are truly happy with your life here.”

  He brushed the hair blowing past her brow. “Abigail, you know that I am.”

  “Yes, but will your happiness last? You have sacrificed everything for me, Gavin. And now I wish to return the favor. So, if you truly do not wish to lead your life here any longer, I will support your decision and we can sell the lighthouse.”

  He leaned forward, disbelief written across his face as he narrowed his eyes. “Abigail, do you honestly believe I could even entertain such an idea? After all the work we have put in, the sacrifices we have made. Have we not been fighting for Golowduyn from the very beginning?”

  “Of course we have, and I would continue fighting for it for the rest of my days. But you deserve the right to choose your own life. A life not dictated by the lighthouse…or my own desires.”

  “I have told you, Abigail. I chose you. And I will not leave you.”

  “No. I know that now. I meant…I would go with you.”

  His brow softened. “You would leave the lighthouse?”

  “For you, I would. I can only imagine one thing worse than losing Golowduyn, and that would be losing you.”

  A half-smile tugged at his lips. He broke their eye contact for a single moment as he reached into his jacket pocket and produced a small box.

  She eyed it curiously as he removed the lid, then gasped when he pulled out a gold and turquoise ring.

  He reached forth, placing the ring on her finger. “This is only a small token to remind you of my devotion to you. My hope is that you will look at this ring each day and remember that my happiness with you here will last forever.” He took a step toward her, caressing her cheek with his thumb. “I love Cornwall and living so near the sea. I love the purpose the lighthouse brings to my life. But more importantly, I love you, the woman behind the light of Golowduyn. For you saved a man not only lost at sea, but in life, as well.”

  The admission of his love did not take Abigail by surprise, nor did it send her mind spinning. For deep down, she had known all along his feelings for her.

  Rather, a peace settled deep within her heart—an overwhelming sense of gratitude and love filled her soul.

  She placed a hand against Gavin’s cheek. “I love you, Gavin. But then…you already knew that.”

  Their eyes locked. He drew closer to her, and their lips met in a tender kiss. She reached up, sliding her fingers through his hair, and he sighed in response.

  Gone were the fears of her past, gone was her concern for her future. For she knew Gavin would be with her every step of the way.

  Their lips parted, he took her hand in his, and together, they walked toward the lighthouse and their bright future ahead.

  Epilogue

  Abigail and Gavin walked hand-in-hand across the cliffside as the sun hung above the ocean. The days were finally growing longer after the many winter months, allowing them the opportunity to spend more time away from the lamps.

  The sky glowed a deep orange and red, perfectly reflected in the still sea. They paused at the edge of the cliff, Golowduyn shining nearby as they took in the view. Winter had lessened the colors around them, but the promise of spring made its first appearance in the grass growing greener, and the hint of pink wildflowers near the cliff’s edge.

  Abigail drew in a deep breath, relishing the feel of the wind blowing her hair from her temples. The sunshine above disguised the bitterly cold wind, and Abigail shivered, despite her thick pelisse.

  “You have been quiet this evening, my love,” Gavin said. He brought her hand up to kiss the back of it.

  “Simply enjoying the scenery.”

  “It has been some time since we’ve been able to do so,” Gavin said. “What with how busy you have been attending balls and hosting dinner parties. I hardly recognize the woman you have become.” His eyes shone with a teasing light.

  “One,” she replied. “I have attended one ball. And inviting the Summerfields and Causeys to dine with us hardly constitutes a dinner party.”

  “Our list of guests will grow when my brother visits again.”

  “That will not be for months yet,” Abigail said.

  They had received a letter from Lionel only weeks before, wherein he expressed his desire to return to Cornwall. However, he and his wife planned to stay instead at a rented manor far enough away from the sea to avoid Gertrude’s headaches returning.

  Abigail had been surprisingly pleased to hear the news of their return. She knew Gavin would enjoy seeing his brother again, and she would not mind their visits in smaller amounts either.

  Besides, in months when they did finally arrive, Abigail would be far too preoccupied with another matter.

  She pressed a hand to her stomach with a smile and looked out to the sea. A passing ship sailed nearby, white sails unfurled as it glided across the water.

  “Have you received any word from Lieutenant Harris?” she asked.

  “Only that he has settled in with his new captain. I suspect he misses Cornwall, though.”

  “I do hope he will return, as he said he would.”

  After his arm had healed, Lieutenant Harris had been reassigned, and Abigail and Gavin had hired another assistant to watch over Golowduyn with them. Their new assistant was a hard worker, but Abigail missed the lieutenant’s cheerful spirits. And she was sure Gavin did, as well.

  “I’m certain he will come back, one day. Cornwall has captured him, just as it has me.”

  His eyes were warm as he smiled down at her.

  “Well, if he does return” Abigail said, “he is more than welcome to stay with us this time, rather than the inn. Though, we will need to have added another room to our humble home by then. After all, we shall surely have three living under our roof.”

  “Three?” Gavin questioned. His cocked his head.

  “Yes. You and I…and the baby.”

  Gavin turned to face her directly, his eyes narrowing. “You mean to say you are…with child?”

  She beamed.

  “You’re certain?” he asked.

  “I am.”


  She could see the delight in his eyes, his shoulders raising as he reached forth to kiss her soundly.

  With his lips on hers, Abigail’s heart soared. How she loved the man. She could not wait to share that happiness, that love, with a child of their own.

  When their kiss ended, she leaned against him with a deep sigh, and Gavin rested his cheek on her brow, wrapping his arms around her.

  They stood as one on the cliffside, watching the gentle waves glinting beneath the last rays of the departing sun. Nothing could diminish the deep joy they felt. For even Golowduyn’s glowing beacon was still not as radiant as the love shared between the old lighthouse keeper’s niece and the rescued sea captain, who had set aflame the light within her heart.

  THE END

  Other Titles by Deborah M. Hathaway

  Stand Alone Novels

  A Secret Fire

  When Two Rivers Meet

  To Warm a Wintered Heart

  A Cornish Romance Series

  On the Shores of Tregalwen, a Prequel Novella

  Behind the Light of Golowduyn, Book One

  Author’s Note

  The idea of this book first came to me on a family trip to Oregon in 2016 as we visited the Yaquina Bay Lighthouse. I became fairly obsessed with the majestic, noble structure. I knew from that point forth that I needed to write a book about a lighthouse of my own. And what better place for that lighthouse to be than on the dramatic coast of Cornwall?

  Since that initial idea, I’ve written and rewritten this novel, trying to express my love for Cornwall, the Regency era, and the relationship between Gavin and Abigail. This story was extremely difficult to create, but it is straight from my heart.

  If you enjoyed this book, I hope you will consider leaving a review. Reviews help authors so much. I would greatly appreciate it!

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