Her Gypsy Lord (Magic and Mayhem #1)

by Jane Charles

  “That depends.” She grinned. “If your idea of entertainment is gossiping about others in the churchyard after Sunday services. It’s perfectly dull, I can assure you.”

  He chuckled. “Many days here are just as dull.”

  “How can they be when your land borders a haunted castle, Gypsies are not far away, and I haven’t even had an opportunity to visit Bocka Morrow.”

  “I’ll take you there tomorrow,” he said without thinking. As long as Martha was with them he’d be able to keep himself from touching and kissing her at every turn, and it was a perfectly acceptable outing for a courting couple. “It’s an important week for Bocka Morrow.” He grinned.

  Charlotte’s eyes sparkled with delight. “How so?”

  “It’s the Feast of St. Allan, or Allantide, as it’s called here. A week-long celebration that ends with a bonfire on All Hallow’s Eve.”

  “It sounds delightful.” Charlotte grinned.

  Adam stared into her eyes. It was said that when a Miss marked her apple and a man took a bite the two were destined to marry. He did not need an apple to know that Charlotte was meant to be his.

  Did she even realize that their future was tied together and not because of the passion that had sparked between them. She’d not heard her father’s words to him, but it wasn’t even that. Nor was it the emerald, which may or may not be behind the intensity of his passion. It was as if his soul recognized his mate the moment he saw her.

  “But first, you need some rest.” He kissed her forehead knowing it was too dangerous to kiss her lips. After what happened in the library, Adam didn’t trust that he wouldn’t sweep her up in his arms and carry her to his chamber.

  “You should as well.”

  “Goodnight, Charlotte.”

  “Goodnight, Adam.”

  He opened the door for her and waited until she disappeared inside then closed the door. He should go on to his room, but his feet wouldn’t move. He couldn’t bring himself to leave her. What if she needed him? Ridiculous, of course. Charlotte was safe here. Her maid was with her, and all danger was back at Castle Keyvnor. Still, Adam contemplated curling up on the floor and sleeping outside her door.

  Of course the events of earlier in the day had been frightening, but it wasn’t necessary that he be by her side now, however, the draw to her room was stronger than his weariness and wanting his own bed.

  Hopefully soon, he’d not have to retire without her.

  Forcing one foot in front of the other, Adam retreated down the corridor, insisting to himself that any concern and worry was for naught, and after a deep sleep, he’d probably laugh at his ridiculous emotions.

  Just as he pushed open the door to his chambers, a blood-curdling scream rang out, and it came from the direction of Charlotte’s room.

  Chapter 12

  She wanted to hum, laugh and dance. She wanted to sing! But Charlotte would do none of those things for fear of waking Martha. She’d never felt so light, so happy, so excited and she’d never get to sleep now. How could she when she’d just experienced the most exhilarating night of her life?

  With help from the full moon, she lit a lamp, keeping the flame low so as not to disturb Martha, then wandered to the dressing table and began taking the pins from her hair. The locks fell one by one, still holding their curl despite being twisted and tied in a hurry so that she could accompany Adam down to the caves.

  A pin caught on something and she yanked. It didn’t come free and Charlotte felt around behind her neck only to discover that one was lodged in the knot of the leather strings holding the putsi around her neck. “What stuff and nonsense.” She no longer needed to wear this thing. They weren’t at the castle any longer. Even better, Baron Tyrell was not here.

  She pulled at the knot until it was free then slipped the putsi from her neck and placed it on the dresser. Before she could remove the rest of the pins, a gust of wind swept through the room, knocking a vase from a table, sending it crashing against the fireplace. Charlotte reached for the putsi but was unable to lay her hand on it before something grabbed her about the neck and lifted her from the floor.

  Not again!

  At least she knew what was happening this time. She tried her best not to panic as her hands felt around the top of the dressing table, trying to grasp the talisman, only to succeed in knocking it to the floor. Martha rose from the bed, her eyes going wide, and let out a scream that would wake the dead. With her eyes, Charlotte motioned to the putsi on the floor and tried to point to where she thought it had landed, praying her maid would understand, but all Martha did was sit on the bed and scream.

  Charlotte would scream as well, but she couldn’t get a breath. And it seemed the more she struggled, the tighter the constriction became around her neck.

  She couldn’t die now. Not after meeting Adam.

  The chamber door crashed open and Adam rushed in. He stopped, his face going pale, and Charlotte tried to point to the floor. Where had that talisman gone?

  He rushed forward, snatching it up and rushed towards her. Just as she almost had it in her hands, the vise around her neck loosened and Adam was thrown back, crashing against the wall.

  Charlotte tried to catch a quick breath and kicked out her legs, but all she met with was icy cold air. An instant later, the full strength of Tyrell’s grip was once again cutting off her air. Her lungs burned, and the room began growing dark. Figures moved about the room, but she couldn’t see who or what through the tears in her eyes, and all she heard were the continued screams of Martha.

  “He can’t fight us both off.” Adam pulled himself from the floor and hurried to Charlotte as Anthony ran into the room. He swiped the pouch up, hoping to move quickly enough that he wasn’t thrown across the room again. The moment what felt like an icy hand touched his chest, he tossed the pouch to Anthony and ducked behind Charlotte.

  Anthony caught it in midair and ran towards his sister, only to be tossed away, much as Adam had been, but as he was falling, he threw the pouch back to Adam, who caught it and pressed it into Charlotte’s hand. The room stilled in an instant, and this time he was prepared to catch her when she fell.

  “Keep hold of it,” Adam instructed as he slowly lifted and tied the strings around her neck once again.

  “How could this happen?” Tears streamed down her face, and all he wanted to do was pull her into his lap and never let her go.

  “I’d like to know the same thing.” Anthony stood, fists planted on his hips, staring at them.

  “As would I. Tyrell is supposed to be at Castle Keyvnor, and I can assure you, Hollybrook Park has never been haunted.”

  “Oh, Lady Charlotte, we must leave,” Martha cried.

  Adam scooped Charlotte up in his arms and carried her to the bed. “Nobody is leaving.”

  “I’m not staying in this room,” Charlotte insisted, her voice raw to his ears.

  He couldn’t really blame her, but if Tyrell could get her here, he could get to her anywhere.

  “Go make some tea, Martha,” Anthony ordered, not taking his eyes from Charlotte or Adam.

  Charlotte pushed herself off the bed. “I need to be out of here.”

  He’d suggest taking her to his chamber, where he could hold and protect her all night, but by the way Anthony was glaring at him, all he’d accomplish was a dawn appointment. “Let’s adjourn to the library.”

  “I’ll be along with the tea, Lady Charlotte,” Martha assured her as she hurried from the room.

  Charlotte’s hands shook and her walk was unsteady, which was surely understandable given what she’d just endured, again. Adam kept a hand at the small of her back and helped her down the stairs, leading her right to the settee when they gained the library. Anthony followed close on his heels.

  “Why did you remove the putsi?” Anthony demanded.

  “It was caught in my hairpins, and I didn’t think it was necessary here.”

  “Clearly it was.” Anthony marched to the sideboard and poured himself a
glass of brandy.

  “One for me too, please,” Adam said, not yet willing to leave Charlotte’s side.

  “And me,” Charlotte croaked.

  “Tea would be more soothing to your throat,” Adam offered with concern.

  “But not for the state of my nerves.”

  She was shivering, as she’d done before, and Adam wasn’t certain if it was from fear or cold. “I’ll fetch you a blanket.” He jumped to his feet. “Keep an eye on her, Redgrave.”

  “She’s my sister, of course I’ll watch over her,” he retorted. “And she’s not the only one I’m keeping an eye on.”

  Redgrave could brood and threaten all that he liked, but once Adam found something to keep Charlotte warm, he wasn’t leaving her side again.

  Where the blazes were the blankets kept? He really should know more about the household, but fresh blankets appeared in his room when he needed them, and he’d never given much thought to where they’d come from.

  With that thought in mind, he took the stairs two at a time before he reached Charlotte’s chamber where he grabbed the covering he’d seen at the foot of the bed and took it to her.

  “Thank you,” she muttered as he tucked it around her.

  “What are we to do now?” Anthony demanded. “How are we going to keep Charlotte safe? Is she going to have to wear that thing for the rest of her life?”

  “I’m never taking it off, ever again,” she mumbled and drew further into herself before she took a sip of brandy.

  “I don’t have your answers,” Adam admitted. “But I can assure you, we will be visiting my grandmother at daybreak.”

  Chapter 13

  Charlotte woke with a gasp, clawing at her throat, desperate for air.

  Her eyes caught Anthony’s, who sat in a chair opposite her.

  “Nightmare?”

  Charlotte blew out a breath and nodded, not wishing to relive being strangled by an unseen entity. “Did you sleep?” she whispered.

  “In this chair?” he practically snorted. Neither Adam nor Anthony were willing to leave her alone last night, or early morning as it was, and since neither she nor Martha wanted to return to the chamber, or any chamber for that matter, they’d all fallen asleep in the library. Adam and Anthony in matching chairs, Charlotte on the settee, and Martha in a larger chair, out of the way and off in the corner.

  She glanced around. Adam’s chair was empty. “Where is Mr. Vail?”

  “He’s arranged to have five maids waiting in your chamber to assist as you prepare for the day.”

  “That really isn’t necessary.”

  He hitched a brow. “I disagree. If that thing falls from your neck again, you’ll need practically an army to keep you alive before Vail and I can arrive. And,” he continued, “as it isn’t proper for either of us to be present during your toilette, the maids will be there to offer any and all assistance.”

  He really was making too much out of this, yet she’d be glad for the company. The more people about, the safer she should be, correct? No doubt both Adam and Anthony would be outside her door the entire time, which did give her comfort.

  Anthony stood and stretched. “You and Martha should prepare for the day. We’ll breakfast and then go to the Gypsy camp.”

  Charlotte pushed the blanket aside and stood. Every muscle in her body protested. Tyrell had only tried to strangle her, but her body ached as if she’d been wrung out like a washcloth.

  She stretched, trying to loosen the tension in her arms and back, but it didn’t do any good. “I’d love to soak in a hot tub of water.”

  “Don’t have time.”

  Charlotte cast him a look of irritation. Why was he so surly? Because he slept in a chair? At least nobody had tried to kill him—twice.

  “Very well.” She crossed to the back of the room and shook her maid’s shoulder. “Come along, Martha. We must prepare for the day.”

  It took Charlotte entirely too long to dress. It took everyone far too long to breakfast, and never had it taken to so long to reach his grandmother.

  Adam had been on edge all night and morning, unable to catch a wink of sleep as he watched Charlotte lost in dreams on his grandfather’s settee. At least she was rested, somewhat, as was her maid. Unlike him and Redgrave. Neither one of them had closed their eyes.

  His grandmother was standing outside of her wagon, watching their approach, as if she’d been waiting for them. Did she know what happened?

  “Ah, Lady Charlotte, I’ve been worried.”

  “Why?”

  “You don’t believe in the unseen, and I was afraid you wouldn’t keep the putsi with you.”

  Charlotte’s cheeks turned pink and she glanced away.

  “Now tell me, child, what has happened?”

  She quickly explained about being attacked at Castle Keyvnor then at Hollybrook Park. His grandmother frowned deeper and deeper as Charlotte spoke.

  “Those were the only times you did not have it? The only attack on your life?”

  “No.” Charlotte answered, her eyes lighting with a memory. “That first time I’d left it on my dressing table because I didn’t have pockets.”

  “We weren’t attacked then?” Adam asked.

  “I think I was, but…”

  “What happened?” His grandmother, Anthony, and Adam asked at the same time.

  “I was at the top of the stairs when something grabbed at me from behind. I lost my footing but was able to grasp the banister before I tumbled down the stairs. I turned, but nobody was there.” Her eyebrows drew together with confusion. “I assumed it was my cousin Toby playing tricks and had run away.” She looked at his grandmother. “Why didn’t he try to strangle me then?”

  Grandmother shrugged. “Perhaps he wished to try later, when you were alone in your chambers.”

  “But he didn’t,” Adam said. “Redgrave and I were with her.”

  “Redgrave is her brother. You, however, may have been seen as a threat.”

  That was certainly true. Adam would do anything to rid this world, and the next, of Lord Tyrell and keep Charlotte safe.

  “Why was he at Hollybrook Park?” Charlotte asked. “Aren’t ghosts supposed to stay in one place?”

  His grandmother sighed and hobbled over to a chair beside a cooking fire and gestured to the others to sit as well. “Some spirits are attached to a place, others an object.” She focused on Charlotte. “Others… to a person. Tyrell is attached to the likeness of Lady Helena, which is you.”

  “Are you certain?” Redgrave asked, clearly thinking he was being fed a bit of nonsense.

  “’Tis the only reasonable explanation.”

  At least that answered one question, but it wasn’t what Adam wanted to hear. “So, how does Charlotte rid herself of him?”

  “Become a wife,” his grandmother proclaimed.

  Chapter 14

  “Wife?” Charlotte muttered. Courtships took time and as much as her heart sang for Adam, she’d not known him a week.

  “I don’t think so,” Redgrave argued. “One of the women strangled was wed.”

  “But she was not bedded.”

  Charlotte’s face heated. Maybe it was simply a matter of her virginity. Not that she could rid herself of that without marriage. Well, she could, but she’d be ruined for the rest of her life.

  On the other hand, if she didn’t, she’d be stuck wearing this talisman for weeks, months, possibly even years. She must definitely put pockets into all of her dresses and gowns.

  “How can you be so certain?” Adam demanded.

  Charlotte could well understand why he’d be uneasy. He’d professed a liking for her, possibly love, but he was no more ready to marry than she.

  Oh, she shouldn’t lie to herself. If Adam were to ask her right now she’d agree without even the need to give his proposal any consideration.

  “One other had visited, and stayed for a long duration at Keyvnor Castle, and not even a hair on her head was touched.”

  “Wh
y?” Anthony asked with curiosity.

  “She’d married only a week earlier and was on her wedding trip, visiting family.”

  “So, I’m to find a gentleman, marry, and become his wife,” Charlotte said, too embarrassed to utter to words like bedding and consummation. “Then I will be safe.”

  Adam’s grandmother shook her finger at Charlotte. “It cannot be any gentleman. It must be the one your soul calls for.”

  “My soul calls for?” She glanced at her brother, then Adam. Her heart, soul, and body certainly called to him.

  The Gypsy slowly smiled. “The emerald, child. It will lead you to him.”

  Charlotte blinked at her. “The emerald? The one in the pouch?”

  “Yes.”

  “How?”

  “It will brighten, like a star in the sky, when he is near.”

  Charlotte frowned and pulled the putsi from around her neck.

  “You can take the emerald from the pouch, but both the putsi and the emerald must stay with you,” the old woman explained. “They must remain joined through your body.”

  Charlotte nodded and looked to Adam. Would it glow for him?

  “Do not mistake passion for love,” his grandmother hissed.

  Charlotte’s face grew hot again. How did she know?

  “The emerald is not only for love, but also passion, and can cause a person to think there is more in the heart, when it’s only in the body. If it does not glow. He is not the one.”

  Goodness, her face was going to go up in flames. It was impossible for Adam’s grandmother to know anything. Then again, she did have the second sight, according to Adam. Something she dismissed before, but something she was willing to trust completely now.

  “What would you know about passion, Charlotte?” Anthony asked, but stared at Adam.

  “Nothing,” she hastened to answer as she looked into Adam’s eyes.

  He simply quirked his lips but said nothing.

  Oh, she hated to lie, but this was Anthony, her older, stuffy, and overprotective brother, and if he had any idea what she and Adam had been about, Anthony would do grave harm to him or something foolish like challenge Adam, and that would never do.