The Autumn Duchess- The Seasons' Fairy Tales

by Katie M John

  The Duke wasn’t with the small group of men who had taken post around the collection of creatures, but I was told he had gone to the inn, not wanting to be too far away from his precious offerings.

  I opened the door of the inn, causing every head, which was male, to turn and stare at me. The only other woman in the place was the landlord’s wife who was behind the bar. She looked at me and offered me the slightest shake of the head as if to tell me that this wasn’t my place.

  I was just about to turn around when the Duke called me over.

  “Lady Lennox,” he called, sauntering out of his high backed oak pew towards me. “Come and join me for some food.”

  I glanced around the room and saw that the men had at least started to pretend they were no longer watching me. I nodded and allowed the Duke to take me by the hand and guide me back to the small table flanked by matching pews.

  I leaned in, with my voice lowered. “I’ve come to talk with you.”

  The Duke topped up his ale. “You’ve been considering my offer from what I gather. Smart girl.”

  I gulped. “I’m not… I want to be clear,” I said furrowing my brow, “I’m not a whore.”

  The sound of the word from my mouth obviously gave him a kick of pleasure.

  “Who are you? “he asked. “You arrive in my village, claiming to be a lady, but I have no recollection of the Lennox family being in London society. You don’t speak quite like a lady and you have a strange way about you, which even your claim of having a French father doesn’t quite explain. I don’t think you’re a lady—but,” he cocked his head. “I can see that you might make one, one day.”

  “I’m here to put forward a proposal,” I said, hoping he couldn’t hear the shake in my voice.

  I stiffened as his hand grasped my knee and then began to stroke up and down my thigh. I smiled tightly at him.

  “You’re in need of a wife.” His eyebrow rose at the idea. “And it looks like I find myself an orphan, relying on the kindness of strangers. Between you and I,” I said, lowering my head closer to him, “my parents were bankrupt. They had lost all of their money investing in trading ships. We were in the highlands to appeal to my mother’s father for a loan, but he wouldn’t even see her. He had never approved of her taking a French husband.”

  “And you would like to be my wife?” the Duke asked with surprise.

  “It would make a convenient solution all round, don’t you think?” I said, reaching forward and picking up his tankard before taking a sip.

  “I mean, what else should I do? I have no money, no house, no family. I’ve been raised a lady with fine tastes and standards. The very thought of being destitute…” I inhaled and shuddered for effect. “I would be so grateful for the gallant charity of a husband. So very very grateful.”

  He stroked his chin. “My baby needs a mother, and a man shouldn’t be without a wife. Perhaps we can come to some arrangement.” His grin made me want to throw up.

  “You said earlier you’d give me anything to spend a few hours with you? Imagine me offering myself to you until you tired and took a mistress.”

  He nodded. “Within reason, Lady Lennox, you can name your price.”

  I took a moment as if really considering his offer. “What do you have?”

  “Perhaps I could show you our family jewels.”

  I pouted flirtatiously, fighting back the bile in my throat. “Hmm, how about we say three of your finest pieces and….”

  I didn’t want to raise his suspicions surrounding the stag and so thought of a few other random things I could add, “and…a Dutch masterpiece painting, and my own French pug, and….” I clapped my hands together. “I know… that beautiful Stag you’ve got tied up outside.”

  He frowned and studied me hard.

  “You drive a hard bargain,” he said.

  I reached out my hand under the table and stroked the top of his thigh. “In return for being your ever so dutiful wife—with whom you can do whatever you want?”

  “But why the stag?” he asked, hardening his stare.

  “Why anything?” I replied, leaning over to give him more sight of my cleavage.

  “And we’d be married—soon?” he asked.

  “Within the month if you like.”

  “Within the week?”

  His tongue darted out over his lip and I could see his dick was doing most of the talking in the conversation running through his head.

  “You can have it all, except the stag. He’s needed.”

  I withdrew my hand abruptly and pushed back into the pew. “Then there’s no deal.”

  “Because of a stag,” he laughed before staring at me. I could almost hear the mechanism of his brain. “This is all about the Stag, isn’t it? That’s the reason Lady McGarrick was so keen for me to let it go. What’s so special about it? What aren’t you telling me? Does it shit diamonds?”

  “There’s nothing special about it,” I said, hating the sound of weakness in my voice.

  “No, it’s not nothing—it’s definitely something. Is it magical? Enchanted? There’s strange magic in these mountains; nothing would surprise me.”

  I throw my hands in the air. “Okay, you win. You’re just too clever,” I said, flattering him. “Yes, there is something magical about the creature, and if you meet me there at half-past midnight by the pens, I’ll show you.”

  The Duke’s eyes sparkled with temptation.

  “It’s enchanted?” he asked.

  I nodded and made my way from the table.

  “I’ll see you tonight.”

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Midnight came and I left the McGarrick house knowing I was about to face a monster. It would take all of my courage to confront him but one thought spurred me on—Glen.

  The village was quiet and dark and I was thankful I had brought a small lantern with me. Part of me knew I was running a fool’s mission. The Duke would be waiting for me and the man had no morality. He was a predator. My heart hammered in my chest and the fear in my chest made it difficult to breathe.

  As I neared the animals, I saw the Duke’s horse tied to a tree and I discovered him, with his own lantern inspecting Glen, who was huddled on the ground in his human form, naked with an iron collar around his neck.

  “Glen!” I cried.

  “Now, I understand,” the Duke sneered. “Now, it’s all perfectly clear.”

  “Skye,” Glen begged me with his eyes, “go home1”

  I shook my head and tried to breathe past the lump of stone in my chest.

  “Please,” I implored the Duke, my hand touching the soft velvet of his jacket.

  The Duke was a flurry of activity as he grabbed me around the waist and neck, his hand clawing up my face. “This is why you wanted me to let the stag go so badly—promising me you’d be my wife. A harlot who would have run off to rut with her handsome little beast as soon as my back was turned.”

  I went to shake my head but the grip on my throat was too tight.

  “Don’t lie to me witch!” The Duke’s body was all rough movements. His hand was on my skin under my skirts and there was no mistake what his intention was.

  “Now I’m going to make the poor bastard watch as I take what you promised me.”

  “No!” I whimpered, my body raging its own battle between paralysis and fight.

  Glen growled, the rope connected to his collar whipping violently as he strained towards me.

  “Oh, such a sorry little love story,” the Duke taunted. “Just imagine the Dark Fairy’s joy when she discovers what a special, magical little offering I have presented to her.”

  “I’ll come willingly if you just let him go,” I say with desperation. “I promise to make you happy.”

  “You stupid little bitch. I don’t need your willingness—haven’t you worked that out yet? I’ve already got you.”

  My skin turned cold as my silks were pushed up.

  Rage barrelled up inside of me. I would not be a victim. He would
not do this to me. I would fight. I would scream. The village was so close and someone would hear us. I wrestled in his arms with the intention of freeing my elbow.

  “That’s right, little one, you wriggle that pretty little arse for me.”

  With that, I swung my elbow backwards as hard as I could, taking satisfaction in the sound of a crack in his ribs. Immediately, his arms slackened and he recoiled, swearing and cursing. I turned, prepared to fight. He charged towards me, and I put my arms up, which he grasped, thinking he had me. My leg came up sharp between his legs and again, he was forced to retreat. My foot made contact with a piece of discarded drift wood, which I picked up and swung like a club in front of me. The Duke’s eyes were drilling into me. His nostrils flaring. With a roar, he came charging at me and I raised the piece of wood high with the intention of slamming hard against his head. What I hadn’t seen was the dirk, sharp and vicious, concealed by his sleeve.

  The blade pushed through my skin with no more resistance than a hot knife through butter and I screamed, desperately hoping that someone would come and save us. The world pitched and swayed and before me stood an angel, with white silver hair and a loose green gown.

  Meg.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked, my voice already sounding like I was under a dream.

  “I’m on my way back from my meeting with my sisters. I know how to get you home.”

  I turned my attention to the Duke, who was staggering around, his hand to his head. I’d obviously made some impact.

  Meg’s attention turned to Glen and raising her hand, she spoke words I did not understand. A ball of light formed from the palm of her hand and she cast it towards Glen, where he transformed back into his stag self, the collar magically unlocking and falling to the floor.

  The world, swayed and a whooshing sensation flew at me.

  “You need to get her to the Two Headed Well. Make an offering,” she said to Glen as she placed coin in my hand, clasping my fingers around it. “Circle it three times clockwise and three time counter clockwise and then step into the well–that should take her home.”

  The ground fell away under my feet and I felt myself lifted onto the back of the stag, my body slumped forward, my arms wrapped around the stag’s neck for dear life. As Meg helped position me on Glen’s back, I heard her whispering in his ear but it was in Gaelic and I didn’t understand.

  “Go quickly. She’s dying. The well will heal her body as she travels.”

  All at once we were running, the air streaming past me, my body jolting up and down as Glen made his way out of the village, along the track and into the trees. I could barely keep my eyes open, and it was only the promise of home that kept me from giving in and surrendering to the darkness.

  Eventually, Glen stopped his crazy pace and slowed until coming to a complete stop. The forest was so dark that I could barely see. I slid off his back, too far gone to feel the pain of connecting with the soft forest floor. I was nearly there. I was nearly home.

  Glen transformed before me back into his human self, and taking my shawl, he wrapped it around his waist and helped me get to my feet. I leaned against him as he took the gold coin from my clenched fist and we slowly made the circles of the well.

  Then it was time. Time to say goodbye to Glen and this strange old world that I had grown to love in the weeks I had been there.

  “This is it then, lass,” he said holding my face between the palms of his hands. “Our goodbye.”

  Tears sprang in my eyes. I didn’t want to leave him. I loved him. The pain was excruciating.

  “Meg told me how to break my enchantment,” he said, resting his forehead against mine.

  I nod, smiling, my lips brushing his.

  “That’s good,” I said, my mind rapidly filling with fog.

  “I don’t know; maybe I would miss running wild on the moor, the feel of the mist in my face, the total peace I feel when I’m no longer human.”

  I laughed. “But you wouldn’t miss being hunted down or being sacrificed.”

  “Ach aye, you’re right about that, lass.”

  “I love you,” I declared.

  “I love you, too. I promise I’ll find you.”

  Our last kiss was raw and full of pain and grief at having to say goodbye. It was a desperate clinging onto moments and a precious grasping of seconds. I didn’t notice how he stepped me backwards until my feet were wet and then the air shimmered and I found myself standing alone in the well, my wounds healed and my lips cold.

  EPILOGUE

  The weeks following my miraculous return home were strange. Benji wouldn’t leave my side, terrified I was going to just disappear again. My mother swayed between relief I had been returned to her and frustration that I couldn’t tell her what had happened to me. No one believed I could have survived for almost a month just wandering around the moors—not after the wreckage of the helicopter had been found. No one could have survived that. Poor Hamish hadn’t.

  We returned to London and mum found the best psychotherapist in South London. There were a lot to choose from. People in London need therapists like most people need air and rocks and trees.

  Weeks passed and the hardest thing about all of it was not being able to tell anyone about Glen and how my heart was breaking. In a moment of emotional breakdown, when I hinted at the truth, telling my mother somehow I had found myself in a different time and falling in love with a boy from the past, she had informed my therapist and it had confirmed their diagnosis that I was suffering disassociative delusions connected to my post-traumatic stress.

  With me being so ‘unwell, Mum made the decision we needed to be in Scotland. We needed the coast and the rocks and the heather and so within a few weeks, we had sold the London flat and were living in one of the small cottages on Uncle Jamie’s estates.

  Returning to Scotland, to the land where Glen had lived, soothed my soul and I soon began to strengthen and recover. I wasn’t the only one who found Scotland therapeutic. Benji, who had spent his short life fighting the system, began to settle and calm. For the first time in his little life he seemed happy. He had the space and freedom to explore and run wild. As a reward for a great first week at his new school, we headed back to the battlefield of Culloden and the visitors centre, which had become an obsession for both Benji and I.

  I read the board full of the names of the men who had been killed in the battle, and my heart stopped when I came across the name Glen McGarrick, who I knew with certainty was my Glen.

  Like so many others, he had been slain on the battlefield of Culloden. I wiped away the tear that had escaped and was glad mum was busy with Benji on the other side of the exhibition.

  As we walked by the family graves, I saw the stone for McGarrick and fleetingly wondered if Glen would somehow know I was here, all this time in the future, still loving him.

  “Are you okay?” Mum asked, noting my sombre mood.

  “Sure. Culloden… there’s something about it.”

  She nodded. “Yes, even the birds don’t sing. Have you noticed that?”

  *

  The following Monday I started the first day of sixth form and of my official new life. It was my first year of A-levels and the sixth form college was small, with only about forty students in our year group. It was very different to my old school and sixth form back in London, where over a hundred of us would have gone on to do our A-levels. I didn’t miss it.

  Everyone seemed friendly enough, although of course, there was the usual mixture of curiosity and suspicion that came when a new person broke the circle. No one had asked me to sit with them for lunch and that was okay. I had my book and my music player. I was used to being alone.

  Standing in the cue, making the hard choice between cheese or tuna to top my baked potato, I heard the deep-soft and friendly voice of a boy.

  “You must be the new girl everyone is talking about,” he said.

  I turned to see the face of the person talking to me. My mouth fell open. My he
ad scrambled. Standing in front of me was a six-foot tall boy with a mop of auburn hair. His cheeks chiselled from ocean rocks and his lips a perfect pale pink. A spattering of freckles gave the impression he had been kissed by the high sun.

  “Glen!” I whispered.

  “Ach, so you’ve already checked me out,” he said with a wink.

  “Erm… no, nothing like that,” I replied, my thoughts still all over the place.

  He extended his hand to shake mine with old fashioned charm. “The names McGarrick, Glen McGarrick, from a long forgotten and sickly branch of the more illustrious and famous McGarrick family.”

  “It’s nice to meet you, Glen. I’m Skye.”

  He nodded as if I had just confirmed something he already knew. He snorted and smiled flirtatiously. “God this is going to sound like the lamest chat up line ever, but I have the strangest feeling we’ve met somewhere before?”

  THANK YOU FOR READING.

  If you enjoyed The Autumn Duchess, you can read the next book in the collection: ‘The Winter Queen’ at

  UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B07884QKLG

  USA: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07884QKLG

  It is free on Kindle Unlimited.

  You can discover more about Katie M. John at her official website

  www.katiemjohn.com

  ALL READERS CAN DOWNLOAD THESE NOVELS FOR FREE.

  Book One of The Meadowsweet Novel Series

  ‘Witchcraft’

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  Book One of The Knight Trilogy

  ‘The Forest of Adventures’

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  USA: https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B0049H9268

  For more great reads from Katie M. John, head over to her official Amazon page where you can check out all her published works

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