One Haunted Evening (Haunted Regency Series Book 1)

by Ava Stone

  She clutched his jacket, determined never to let him go. “You can see me,” she said softly, which was a silly thing to say as he could very clearly see and touch her.

  “I can see you,” he affirmed, his gravelly voice warming her from the inside out. She would have shivered, but his arms tightened around her and she’d never felt so safe in all her life. And after the last few days, feeling safe was something she would never take for granted again.

  Callie held on tightly to Braden, afraid that if she let go of him, that she’d vanish once more. She was afraid to blink and discover that all of this was a dream and that she’d wake up in that blackness all over again. But Braden didn’t seem inclined to release her either. He pressed his lips to the top of her head over and over, as though assuring himself that she was really there.

  “Callie,” Cyrus said from somewhere behind them. And then she felt her brother’s hand on her shoulder.

  She glanced up at Braden who reluctantly released her. Callie turned to embrace her brother.

  “Oh, Callie!” Cyrus said. “I’ve never been so worried in all my life.”

  “Me too,” she said, swiping at tears that were beginning to trail down her cheeks. She wasn’t even certain what had happened to her, but it had been more than terrifying.

  Then Cyrus pulled away from her and he glanced at Braden beside her. “Bradenham was a mess with you gone. He truly does care for you. I have no doubt about that.”

  Braden’s hand was on Callie’s back, filling her with the warmth she’d been so absent of these last few days. “I love him too, Cyrus.”

  “I know.” Her brother swiped at a tear of his own. “And if you really do want to marry him, you have my full blessing to do so.”

  She threw her arms around her brother’s neck once more. “Thank you, Cyrus,” she said before pressing her lips to his cheek. “I want that more than anything.”

  And then everyone surrounded her. Daphne, Lila, people she’d never seen before. Daphne hugged her tightly, and Callie hugged her back with equal force.

  “Oh, Daphne,” she began as she pulled slightly away. “You do look lovely in that dress. You should keep it.”

  Her friend choked on a laugh. “Only you could vanish for days only to emerge and tell me to keep your dress.”

  Callie couldn’t help but laugh. “But it looks so much lovelier on you than it ever did on me.”

  “Silly girl,” Daphne laughed as well.

  And then Lila threw her arms around Callie’s neck and hugged her for all she was worth. “I was so scared,” her friend whispered in her ear.

  “So was I,” Callie whispered back. Then she tightened her arms even more around her friend. “What are you doing here? Your father will kill you.”

  “As though I could stay home when we had the chance to find you.” Lila drew back from her and grinned. “Besides, with a bit of luck, I can sneak back through the window and he’ll never know I was gone.”

  Hopefully, that was true. Lila would be in for it if Vicar Southward knew she was out at this time of night. “I’m so glad you were here.”

  “Me too.” Lila squeezed her hand. “But I’d better leave.” She lowered a domino over her face and added, “Please come to the vicarage tomorrow.”

  “Yes.” Callie nodded quickly. “Of course, of course.”

  After one last smile, Lila took off through the crowd and Callie turned on her heel to find Braden still there, awe and wonder shining in his eyes. “Callie Eilbeck, I don’t want to live one more day without you.”

  “Neither do I.”

  Alastair had done his best to distract the guests from the chaos Miss Glace and the others had caused on their way to the gardens, but it was no use. No matter how many times he uttered the words, “I’m certain it’s nothing,” no one seemed to hear him.

  Now he found himself with the crowd of people standing on the verandah, watching this strange ceremony play out. It was hard to tell what was happening from this far away—all he could say for sure was that they were standing in the shape of a triangle, and Brighid’s lips were moving rapidly in what he assumed was a similar chant to the one she’d delivered last night.

  One could have heard a pin drop on the verandah. The guests held their collective breath, and then—

  Alastair could hardly believe his eyes. A cloud of smoke began to swirl in the middle of their triangle. He felt frightened and hopeful all at the same time. Would Callie come back to them? Was Daphne safe out there? Or were they conjuring someone other than Callie? Someone sinister who was truly supposed to be dead?

  His heart raced as if he’d just run the length of Cumberland and back. And just when he was certain he couldn’t take it anymore—just before he barreled down the stairs to retrieve Daphne from this nonsense—a girl in yellow appeared. In flesh and blood, Callie stood in the middle of the triangle, looking whole and hearty.

  After a stunned silence, a cheer rose from the people around him, and it occurred to Alastair that they’d need some sort of explanation for what had just happened.

  “By God, what a splendid show!” he shouted, clapping loudly as he moved to the front of the balcony. “I’d heard Miss Glace had been working with an illusionist, but lud, I never expected this! Bravo!”

  Heathfield, who stood nearby, winked at him as Lady Flitwick, flanked by her friends Mrs. Lockwell and Lady Heathfield, whispered in his ear, “We’ll make sure no one knows the truth, Lord Wolverly.”

  Alastair looked to his friends—the husbands—quite shocked to learn they’d shared the story of the strange goings-on with their wives. Of course, only one of them needed to be persuaded, and he was certain these women were all aware of their persuasive powers. From there, it would have trickled down to the others. But thankfully, none of them seemed terribly fazed by the bizarre circumstances.

  “Thank you,” Alastair whispered back, his heart finally resuming a normal pace. “We are all forever in your debt.”

  No sooner had they taken their leave than he heard a sweet and familiar voice call his name.

  “Alastair,” she said from somewhere behind him, and he whirled to find Daphne standing at the far end of the verandah, so pale and beautiful in the moonlight.

  Although, as he neared her, it became obvious she was more of a frozen blue than a moonlight pale. “My darling, you’re freezing,” he said, divesting himself as quickly as he could of his coat and throwing it over her bare shoulders.

  “Did you see?” she asked, clearly unconcerned with her own well-being.

  He gathered her in his arms, holding her close, breathing in her gentle scent. “I did, though I haven’t had much time to feel the relief I ought to.”

  Daphne pulled back. Her azure eyes blinked up at him, and he almost felt as if he were drowning.

  “Damn, but you are beautiful,” he said before she had a chance to ask whatever question was on the tip of her tongue.

  Color returned to her cheeks as she pushed them up with her smile. “Only because I’m dressed as a woodland nymph,” she countered. “I’m afraid tomorrow I’ll be back to plain Daphne Alcott, the doctor’s daughter, purveyor of rum butter.”

  “And wife to the Viscount Wolverly.”

  Exactly how soon could he marry her? If only they were in London. It would be much easier to get a special license in London. Of course, this far north, they could just head to Scotland. He certainly wasn’t about to wait three weeks for the banns to be read.

  Callie seemed to slump a bit and Braden pulled her back into his arms. “Are you all right, sweetheart?”

  “Starving,” she whispered faintly.

  Of course she was. She hadn’t eaten in days! What an idiot he was. He should have thought of that immediately. “We’ll remedy that right now.”

  He scooped her up into his arms and Callie’s melodic laugh was like a balm to his weathered soul. “What are you doing?”

  “Getting you something to eat.”

  Panic flashed in her ey
es. “Not in the castle.”

  Braden stopped where he stood and gazed down at her. “My great-grandmother is gone, Callie. She can’t hurt you any longer.”

  His great-grandmother? Mrs. Routledge was responsible for her disappearance? “What do you mean she can’t hurt me any longer?”

  Braden heaved a sigh. “Miss Glace banished her last night. Sent her away so she couldn’t ever hurt anyone else.”

  “Brighid?” Callie frowned. How could Brighid do any of that?

  Braden glanced to his side. “Where is Miss Glace?”

  “Fainted,” Cyrus replied. “Mr. Chetwey took her back inside the castle a little while ago.”

  “She fainted?” Callie echoed. “Is she all right?”

  “Chetwey will ensure that she is,” Braden replied. “And I will make certain that you are. And you need to eat something, Callie. It’s been days.”

  She glanced towards the castle and couldn’t help but shiver. “You’re certain it’s safe?”

  “You will always be safe from here on out, sweetheart.”

  The intensity of his hazel gaze convinced her of the truth of that, so she nodded her consent. “To get something to eat,” she stressed. “I don’t want to live here, Braden.”

  He grinned from ear to ear as he started down the garden path with her. “Actually, I was thinking of giving the castle to Quent. What do you think?”

  Callie thought she could never love anyone as much as she did Braden. “Brilliant idea. We can stay at Braewood if you want to visit him in the future.”

  Braden laughed, a rich, rumbling sound that filled Callie with warmth all the way to her toes. “Your wish is noted, sweetheart.”

  Before Callie knew it, she was in a private parlor somewhere in the castle with tea and scones laid out before her. Braden hovered over her like a worried mother hen. So she took a bite of scone and grinned up at him. “I am fine, Braden,” she stressed.

  He smiled, a bit more relaxed, and then dropped onto the settee beside her. His arm settled at her back and she leaned against him, so glad she was able to feel him this time. “I saw you, you know?”

  “You saw me?” he echoed.

  Callie nodded. “From wherever I was. I sat with you in the dungeons and I slept with you one night.”

  He sucked in a breath. “I could have sworn I smelled your scent.”

  “But I couldn’t talk,” she tried to explain. “I couldn’t make any sound. I couldn’t feel you. It was the worst thing I could have ever imagined.”

  His arm tightened on her shoulders. “I’ll never let you out of my sight again.”

  “Nor shall I let you out of mine.”

  He tipped her chin up and pressed his lips to hers. Tingles raced across her skin. His tongue swept into her mouth and Callie grasped the edge of his jacket to steady herself as need washed over her and fire pooled in her belly.

  She could have sat there, wrapped in his arms, kissing him for all she was worth the rest of her days, and would happily have done so if Lord Quentin hadn’t burst into the room singing an uncouth sea shanty.

  Braden heaved a sigh as he broke their kiss and glared at his brother. “What the devil, Quent?”

  Lord Quentin grinned like an errant schoolboy. “I just danced with an angel.”

  “An angel?” Braden echoed, squeezing Callie’s shoulder. “You are foxed.”

  His brother agreed with an incline of his head. “Aye, and happily so.” Then he turned his smile on Callie. “Ah, and welcome back to the world of the living, Miss Eilbeck! You were missed.”

  “Thank you, my lord.” She couldn’t help but grin at him. He was such a good-natured scoundrel.

  “I just danced with an angel,” Lord Quentin said again.

  “You said as much,” Braden replied.

  “And she kissed me.” He frowned a bit. “And then she disappeared.”

  A shiver raced through Callie at those last words. “Disappeared?”

  Lord Quentin moved to the front of his chair and shook his head. “Not like you did, Miss Eilbeck. I saw you disappear right in front of my eyes.”

  Had he? Callie had no idea.

  “No,” he continued, “my angel, she disappeared into the crowd and I haven’t been able to find her. She didn’t come through here did she?”

  “No angels in here,” Braden said. Then he coughed. “I mean, other than Callie.”

  She couldn’t help but giggle. “I am not an angel.”

  “You are to me.” Braden’s hazel eyes held her gaze and she couldn’t look away, not for anything in the world. “Do you think your brother would frown at the idea of us heading to Scotland, Callie?”

  “Scotland?”

  “I have no desire to wait for banns to be read or to leave you to acquire a special license, and—”

  “Kilworth has a special license,” Lord Quentin tossed in from his spot across from them.

  “Kilworth?” Callie asked. She had no idea who that was.

  “Why would he have a special license?” Braden asked, his brow furrowed in confusion.

  “A present from his grandfather,” Lord Quentin explained. “Told him that when he met the right girl, he shouldn’t wait.” Then he laughed to himself. “Hope’s been trying to get her name on that thing. Thought you knew.”

  A muscle twitched in Braden’s jaw. “I didn’t.”

  “I’m sure he’d give it to you,” Lord Quentin continued. “Only keeps it with him because his grandfather made him promise to do so. He can always get another one. It’s not as though he’s in a hurry to use it.”

  “He better not think to use it with Hope,” Braden grumbled.

  “Well, if you have it, he couldn’t now, could he?”

  Braden heaved an unhappy sigh, then glanced down at Callie and a smile lit his lips once more. “What do you say, sweetheart? Should we take a license meant for reprobate and marry tomorrow morning?”

  There was nothing Callie wanted more. She nodded quickly and said, “I only wish we could wake Vicar Southward tonight.”

  Braden kissed her once more and Callie was lost once again, the happiest she’d ever been. She barely heard Lord Quentin say, “Guess I’ll go find Kilworth, then.”

  Murmurs of quiet voices intruded on her conscious and Brighid slowly opened her eyes. Blake was seated next to her, his eyebrows drawn together with concern.

  She opened her eyes more fully and glanced around. She was lying on a settee in what appeared to be the library at Marisdùn Castle. Blake, his sister, along with Lord Patrick, sat nearby. What had happened?

  The memory flooded her mind and she sat up with a start. “Callie!”

  Blake gently pushed her back against the pillows. “Your friend is back and seems to have suffered nothing more than a terrible fright. My concern is with you.”

  “She is truly back and whole?”

  Blake smiled lovingly, his green eyes warm and tender. “Yes. You did it, Brighid.”

  “It wasn’t me alone. It was those who loved her that pulled her back.” She knew deep down that without her friends and Lord Bradenham, she could never have saved Callie.

  “Please let me sit up.” She felt ridiculous lying on the settee when she was perfectly fine. Lord Patrick handed her a glass and she took a tentative sip. It was stronger than wine, but not unpleasant. She assumed it was brandy by the way it burned a warm trail to her stomach.

  “We shall leave you alone.” Laura smiled as her husband escorted her out of the doors to the gardens. Guests were milling about, wearing masks and elaborate costumes and it was still dark. She could not have been unconscious all that long.

  “Is everyone else enjoying the party?”

  “They seem to be.” Blake smiled as he leaned back and put an arm around Brighid. Warm spread through her being. “Braden has taken Callie off somewhere. Garrick, Thorn and Quent are searching for ladies without…”

  “What?” she asked when his cheeks reddened.

  “Nothing. Simply entert
ainment.”

  She took another sip of the brandy. It was quite good. “You do not have to remain here with me. I am sure you wish to join your friends.”

  His arm tightened around her, drawing her even closer. Her skin began to tingle even though clothing separated them. “I would much rather remain here with you.” He looked down at her, “Unless you wish to join in the entertainments?”

  She glanced out the doors again. Everyone seemed to be having a delightful time, but in truth, she was exhausted. These last few days had taken everything out of her. “I would rather stay here, if you don’t mind.” With your arms around me.

  “It is probably for the best.” He winked. “Your incantation drew a crowd. Wolf explained that you had learned a few tricks from an illusionist and they are hoping you will perform more.”

  Alarm shot through her. One of the most important rules was to never, ever practice witchcraft in front of others. What if some didn’t believe Lord Wolverley? What if someone came after her? What if they wanted to burn her at the stake?

  “Relax, Brighid,” Blake soothed. “I can only guess what is going on in your mind by the sheer look of panic on your face.” He chuckled and kissed her forehead. “They believed Wolf. Trust me in this. And none of my friends, or Miss Eilbeck’s will ever reveal the truth.”

  “It still frightens me.”

  He turned more fully toward her. “I promise to never let anything happen to you.”

  She wished she could believe him. “If they came for me, there isn’t anything you could do.”

  His green eyes grew intense. “I will never allow anyone to harm my wife.”

  Brighid blinked. “Wife?”

  He grinned. “That is, if you would do me the honor of marrying me.”

  Joy surged through her. It was what she always wanted. She flung an arm around his neck, drawing him close, and kissed him. Her body came alive as energy surged. He was her destined mate—her strength.

  Blake deepened the kiss and Brighid allowed it, her pulse fairly humming with desire.

  “Ah, she is awake.”

  They jerked apart to find Thorn leaning against the door, a broad grin upon his face.