The decision, once spoken, filled every nook, cranny, and crack in her heart with a warmth she had every hope of keeping. Her place, where her aunt cared for her happiness and well-being, where Ras cherished and loved her, was there in that tiny village and Havenwood.
As an author of novels, Ras had never precisely understood poets. Why did they resign themselves to so few words to express complex emotions? But in that moment, when Louisa promised to stay, he swept her into his arms for another kiss, and he knew. He knew there were only a few words worthy of describing his feelings for her, for the joy she brought to his heart, and for the future happiness he suspected would be theirs.
When they parted, she sighed and laid her cheek against his coat, heedless of the way it bent her bonnet to rest upon him.
“I am glad that is settled,” she said with her usual playful firmness. He chuckled and kept one arm loosely about her waist. He peered down at the weathered tombstone she had been studying when he came upon her. What would his many-times-great-grandfather think of this development?
“Ras?” Louisa’s use of his abbreviated name made him love her still more. “Something is wrong with this graveyard.”
He stepped back and stared down at her, perplexed. “How can something be wrong with a graveyard? Besides the obvious, that most would not think it a place for lovers’ trysts.”
She giggled before lightly thumping him on the arm. “I am serious. I was thinking about Lady Elizabeth and Erasmus. And look.” She pointed at the stone. “Despite all their words of love and promises of being together forever, her grave marker isn’t anywhere near his. I cannot recall seeing it here at all.”
Ras glanced to the left and right of the stone with Erasmus Grey etched into its front. Releasing Louisa, Ras went to peer at the other stones nearby. “Look about and see if you can find her. You have a point. It’s strange that she is not here.”
They separated and went up and down the somewhat unorganized rows, reading each stone, peering closely at those that were oldest and too worn by time to read with ease. They met again near the archway exit.
“She is not interred here,” Louisa said, voice hushed and eyes wide. “What can that mean? She gave their wedding portrait to her niece, but everything else I have read, everything I have felt about them—they would not have been buried apart.”
Ras looked back over the cemetery. “No. They would not.” He considered for a moment. Slowly, he tried to work through all that they had found together, the pieces of the puzzle still not forming a coherent picture. “The painting of the kirk. What was the inscription on that one?”
“It was in Gaelic. Something about lying in quiet—”
“In rest.” Ras looked down at Louisa with wide eyes. “Like someone who had been buried.” He shook his head. “But why—” His stutter overcame him for several moments in his excitement, but Louisa did not so much as flinch as he tried to make his tongue catch up with his thoughts. “Why would Erasmus have been buried in England when he had more ties to Scotland? What if he’s buried in the same place as that kirk?”
“Lady Elizabeth would have been buried with him.” Louisa bobbed up and down on her toes. “Ras—if neither of them are here, then who is buried under the Erasmus Grey stone?”
“Or what.” Ras took up her hands. “It may be the treasure.”
“But how would we ever know?” She lowered her voice to whisper, “I’ve no wish to go digging up graves.”
“Nor do I,” he whispered back, before pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Perhaps we had better investigate further. But I cannot think of leaving you to go to Scotland at the moment.”
“I suppose the treasure hunt can wait a bit longer.” Her smile and her eyes lit with pleasure. “After all, we already know precisely what we will do when we find it.”
“We do?” He thought he knew—but to hear her confirm it—
“Yes. We will use it as your great-grandparents would have wished. The funds will care for the communities they came from.”
Ras tucked her hand through the crook of his arm. “How do you propose we go about such a work, my love?”
“With compassion and wisdom, of course.” She leaned her head against his shoulder as they walked.
“Would you like to come meet my mother? And my sisters?” he asked as they came to the point where the path curved uphill to Havenwood Lodge and down to the road. “I want them to know you as I do, to see how wonderful you are, so they will understand completely why I cannot leave you behind when we must go to London.”
“Yes. I should very much like to meet them. For I must tell them how much I cannot do without you. I love you, my ghostly suitor.”
He chuckled and kissed the top of her forehead, lingering a moment in the joy of touching her skin with his lips. “And I love you, my dearest Louisa.”
They walked up the hill together, along the path that joined the drive as it curved into the wood where the Lodge was snug between and beneath the trees.
“I think you ought to plant some flowers here, on either side of the path,” Louisa said, her gaze sweeping the lane. “Something beautiful.”
“What are you partial to?” he asked, curious.
Her blush returned. “White roses.”
At that moment, Ras knew he could only end his story as he wished for his own to end. With love, hope, and a happily ever after.
Epilogue
The autumn leaves gave way to winter frost, as Ras said they would. For some time, he saw no more of the ghosts, and he wondered at that. Perhaps they really had come to see that he found Louisa more so than the treasure. It was enough of a reason for him, given that each moment he knew her he fell more deeply in love.
He asked Louisa to marry him Christmas Eve, and her enthusiastic acceptance made him feel like the wealthiest of men. Before they accompanied his family back to London for his sister’s wedding, they were married themselves, in Alwinton’s church.
Louisa’s mother did not attend, though she sent a congratulatory letter.
Their wedding trip to Scotland surprised a few, especially given the season, but Louisa and Ras had a kirk to find.
As Ras suspected, the kirk was the one in which Erasmus Grey the Elder had been Christened. He and his bride held a place of honor near the church, with a joint headstone, and a message etched in both Scottish and English.
For where your treasure is, there will your heart be also.
They returned home, and under cover of night, dug into the earth in the spot where Louisa and Ras first met.
A pair of ghosts watched, though they revealed themselves to no one, holding hands and smiling at each other. The treasure, comprising years of excess taxes and stolen funds from both sides of the border, was buried in several small boxes not more than three feet beneath the ground.
Most of England saw hardship in the coming years. There was unseasonable cold, which killed crops and caused starvation. Soldiers returned from war, only to be recalled again. But a little corner of Northumberland weathered things well. Mr. and Mrs. Erasmus Grey built a new church, with money they claimed had been donated anonymously. They also saw to it that the people had access to a doctor and apothecary both.
Quietly, a family grew in Havenwood. For generations to follow, and beneath the watchful portraits of Erasmus and Louisa Grey, and Erasmus and Lady Elizabeth, the family did many good deeds in secret, blessing the lives of all within their reach.
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Book 7: His Disinclined Bride by Jennie Goutet
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Notes and Acknowledgements
Harbottle and Alwinton are real places, and there really are castle ruins, a bend in the river called the Devil’s Elbow, and the Drake Stone. Those details all c
ome from history and maps. There really was a noble in the late Middle-Ages who lived at the castle and led raids against the Scottish on the other side of the border, too. And King James’s grandmother spent time in the old castle before the locals reduced it to ruins. Even the Manse is an actual house built of stone, easily found on Google Maps.
The book Louisa borrowed, News from the Invisible World; or, Interesting Anecdotes of the Dead, by John Tregortha, was a real book! The stories inside were quite fascinating, too. If you want to read it for yourself, scanned pages from it are free on Google Books.
But for all the seeds of truth to the story, the idea of the treasure, ghosts, and the nearby woods having a cemetery and lodge were my own. The people in this story are all fictitious, too. They were such fun to create and get to know, and I hope you enjoyed the way I wove my fiction and facts together.
I am so grateful to the ladies who each wrote a book in this series. They are marvelous women, and truly talented authors. Thank you Martha, Kasey, Ashtyn, Jess, Deborah, and Jennie. Y’all put up with me during all the craziness of COVID-19, and I’ll forever be grateful.
Many thanks to my designer and dear friend Shaela Kay, my sweet editor Jenny Proctor, my proofreader and assistant Carri Flores, who have all contributed to this book in one way or another.
Now for my usual caveat. Writing isn’t easy. No matter how hard an author tries, they can never be perfect. I have yet to publish a book completely devoid of typos or minor mistakes - even the largest publishing houses in the world usually have what they call “an acceptable error rate.” No book is perfect, because no author, editor, or proofreader is perfect, either. So I am all the more grateful for the wonderful people on my team who help me polish my drafts until they shine.
The Seasons of Change Series*
The Road Through Rushbury by Martha Keyes
A Forgiving Heart by Kasey Stockton
The Last Eligible Bachelor by Ashtyn Newbold
A Well-Trained Lady by Jess Heileman
The Cottage by Coniston by Deborah M. Hathaway
A Haunting at Havenwood by Sally Britton
His Disinclined Bride by Jennie Goutet
*The books in this series may be read in any order.
Also by Sally Britton
Heart’s of Arizona Series:
Book #1, Silver Dollar Duke
The Inglewood Series:
Rescuing Lord Inglewood | Discovering Grace
Saving Miss Everly | Engaging Sir Isaac
Reforming Lord Neil
The Branches of Love Series:
Martha’s Patience | The Social Tutor
The Gentleman Physician | His Bluestocking Bride
The Earl and His Lady | Miss Devon’s Choice
Courting the Vicar’s Daughter | Penny’s Yuletide Wish
Stand Alone Romances:
The Captain and Miss Winter | His Unexpected Heiress
A Haunting at Havenwood
Timeless Romance Collection:
An Evening at Almack’s, Regency Collection 12
About the Author
Sally Britton, along with her husband and four incredible children, live in Oklahoma. So far, they really like it there, even if the family will always consider Texas home.
Sally started writing her first story on her mother’s electric typewriter, when she was fourteen years old. Reading her way through Jane Austen, Louisa May Alcott, and Lucy Maud Montgomery, Sally decided to write about the elegant, complex world of centuries past.
Sally graduated from Brigham Young University in 2007 with a bachelor’s in English, her emphasis on British literature. She met and married her husband not long after and they’ve been building their happily ever after since that day.
Vincent Van Gogh is attributed with the quote, “What is done in love is done well.” Sally has taken that as her motto, for herself and her characters, writing stories where love is a choice.
All of Sally’s published works are available on Amazon.com and you can connect with Sally and sign up for her newsletter on her website, AuthorSallyBritton.com.
A Haunting at Havenwood (Seasons of Change Book 6) Page 20
