by Ava Stone
“I thought you were out seeking..um, that is, enjoying the festivities.”
Why did Blake stammer when trying to mention what Thorn was about?
“I had the most delightful encounter.” He sauntered into the room.
“Brighid does not need the details,” Blake warned.
Thorn simply chuckled. “It was all very innocent, I assure you.”
“Go on.”
“There was a charming fairy, gossamer wings and all, with golden hair, sitting apart from the others, sketching, if you can believe it.”
She knew Anna was going to come to the party whether invited or not. She would like to see her friend if she was still there.
“I couldn’t see her face, of course. The colorful mask covered the whole of it, with the exception of her full, ruby lips.”
Blake cleared his throat.
“She refused to dance with me, but insisted I sit for her.”
“Did you?” Anna must have delighted in having someone as handsome as Thorn to sketch.
“Of course! I am not one to deny a lady her desire.” He almost seemed affronted by the question.
This time Blake snorted.
“It took her hardly any time at all and a very good likeness, by the way.”
“Then what happened? Though, I am hesitant to ask with Brighid in the room.”
“I once again asked her to dance, but she begged me to retrieve her a glass of punch.” He rubbed his chin. “She never told me her name and when I questioned her, she shushed me, though she spoke with an Italian accent, so she shouldn’t be this difficult to find.” He frowned. “It is most disconcerting.”
Brighid could tell him who the fairy was but, if Anna wanted to keep her identity a secret, she would protect her friend.
“So why are you in the library and not in the gardens?” Blake inquired.
“When I returned she was gone and I haven’t been able to locate her since.”
For a moment Brighid feared a spirit had taken Anna, but dismissed the idea. The hour was growing late and she probably had to sneak back home before her uncle realized she’d left. She and Lila had probably snuck out together and returned in the same manner.
“You, by chance, haven’t seen her, have you?”
“No, I am sorry,” Brighid answered.
Thorn let out a sigh and wandered back toward the door. “Then I shall leave you two to whatever you were doing.”
Blake chuckled after his friend left. “Poor Thorn. Sitting for a portrait was not how he planned to spend this celebration.”
“It is rather unusual.”
“These past few days have been beyond unusual.” Blake focused on her once again. “But it is the past and, will remain in the past, with only the future ahead of us.”
“What of the remaining ghosts?” she questioned. “I am sure Lord Bradenham would like them to be gone eventually.”
“Braden can go hang,” Blake muttered before taking her lips again.
Brighid stood at the doorway leading to the kitchens of Marisdùn Castle and looked out into her garden. The last three weeks had been a flurry of activity as she prepared for her wedding. Blake was with her every day and well into the evening, leaving her with burning kisses each night as he left her at her grandmother’s door.
She couldn’t believe how many people were attending their wedding. There were familiar faces from Tolbright and Ravenglass, people she considered acquaintances and a few friends. A part of her assumed many would attend to see who the future Earl of Torrington had chosen for a bride, and not the other way around.
It wasn’t that she didn’t know them, but she had always kept her distance, afraid to become too close to anyone, other than Anna Southward. Blake watched her with love in his eyes. Beside him was Patrick, Blake’s brother-in-law, to give witness, as well as Vicar Southward, who frowned. The vicar did not think it was at all proper that the wedding take place in a medicinal garden, especially in the middle of November. Her grandmother had offered a few objections as well, but finally acquiesced. Her brother, Clive, was seated with their grandmother, and beamed with pride. There was a chill in the air, but the sun did shine down upon them and she basked in its warmth.
She started down the path to join her beloved, and those who were in attendance turned, smiling at her. The warmth in their eyes was genuine and she could hardly believe their acceptance.
The guests who had attended the party had believed Lord Wolverley’s explanation about illusionists, but those who were here now, the residents of Tollbright and Ravenglass, suspected the truth. That is all anyone could talk about for days following Samhain and nobody thought illusions had anything to do with Callie reappearing, except perhaps the vicar. More importantly, nobody tried to burn her at the stake.
They accepted what she was and greeted her warmly whenever there was a chance meeting in either town. Had she known this was the way it would be, she might never have denied the truth. But, had the nightmare of Callie disappearing and Brighid bringing her back not occurred, the residents might feel differently.
It didn’t matter. None of it did anymore. Today she would marry her love, and tonight, she would fully realize her magic, the moment she and Blake became one. She shivered with anxiety and excitement.
Blake was waiting impatiently for his wife to finish visiting with Anna when Braden sauntered over and pressed a glass of brandy into his hand. The sun had set and he was anxious to begin their marriage. Thankfully they didn’t have far to go before they could be alone.
“Your wife truly wishes to spend her wedding night in that chamber off of the herbarium?”
“She said something about magic and reaching her full potential.” Blake shrugged. “It matters not to me, as long as I can finally have her to myself.”
Braden chuckled. “Well don’t let Quent, Thorn or Garrick hear you mention things like magic and that chamber. They’ll be bringing all kinds of females here with promises of magical nights.”
His friend glanced across the room to his wife, Callie. She beamed with joy and love, as did Brighid and Daphne, soon-to-be, Lady Wolverly. Who would have thought that when he and his friends hatched the mad scheme to come to Marisdùn and throw a Samhain party, it would result in three of them finding their loves?
He turned fully toward Braden. “Many thanks to you and Quent for allowing Brighid to have the wedding in the garden, and for hosting the wedding breakfast at Marisdùn.”
Braden looked at him as if he were half mad. “Quent and I have already assured her that the garden, her herbarium, and anything else she wishes, are hers without question.”
Of course, that was easy for them to offer since they weren’t going to be living here.
Blake looked back again at his wife and met her grey eyes. He smiled and nodded towards the door. A blush stained her cheeks, but she made her excuses to Anna and glided across the room until she was at his side.
“Thank you, Lord Bradenham, for a lovely wedding.”
He gave a bow of his head. “The pleasure was mine.”
Blake offered his arm and gave the half-empty glass of brandy back to Braden before he escorted Brighid through the corridors of the castle, into the kitchen and then into the herbarium. He quickly shut the door behind them.
“Shouldn’t we lock it?”
“No need,” she smiled and swept her hand across the door. “Nobody will be disturbing us until we wish to be disturbed.”
Blake doubted he would ever want anyone intruding on his time. He swept Brighid up in his arms, carrying her to the sleeping chamber. Candles were lit and the bed turned down, waiting for them. He lowered her to the ground, her body sliding against his. Her arms linked around his neck, drawing him down until their lips touched.
His body heated despite the sudden, yet soft breeze in the room, and he grew dizzy the more they kissed. She had the ability to knock him off his feet when their lips touched. What would become of him once they made love?
Blake pulled back and stared down at her while toying with the fastenings at the back of her dress.
“I love you, Brighid Glace Chetwey.”
“And I love you, Blake.” She smiled, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “Let’s make some magic.”
December 10, 1815
With a fresh blanket of snow covering the ground, Daphne worried that her dearest friends might not be able to make it to her wedding. As a matter of fact, she worried she might not make it to her own wedding. But perhaps it was only nerves that made her worry so about everything. All that really mattered, after all, was that Alastair and the minister made it.
She smiled at her reflection in the mirror. She was certain she’d never looked so elegant in her entire life, and she owed it all to the man who was so irksome to her upon their first meeting. The memory of him following her back home that first afternoon caused a giggle to bubble to her throat. What a silly man.
“Something funny?”
Daphne swung on her tufted stool to find Callie standing in the doorway. Every time she saw her, even though it had been six weeks since she’d reemerged into the living world, Daphne breathed a sigh of relief.
She reached her hands out, and Callie crossed the room. She took her hands and then knelt down beside Daphne.
“You are the most beautiful bride that’s ever lived,” her friend said, and Daphne was forced to swallow over the lump that formed in her throat.
“Well, perhaps for once you won’t outshine me.”
Callie’s jaw dropped, and Daphne couldn’t help but laugh. “I have never outshined you. You’ve always been a prime article.”
Daphne wasn’t so sure about that, but there was no more time to argue with her friend over who was the brighter diamond. “I suppose you’re here to take me to the church.”
“Indeed.” Callie stood to her full height and then pulled Daphne up with her. “Your knight awaits.”
Daphne’s worries had been for naught. Despite the snow on the ground, it seemed practically everyone had turned up for her wedding. She conceded it was quite the thing—a local girl marrying a viscount. Although, her two friends had already paved the way with their own weddings to members of the ton. One would think the town would be bored of such activities by now, but apparently not.
As a simple, lilting tune played out on the pianoforte, Daphne walked down the short aisle toward her fate. There were no ghosts about to haunt them anymore. Only the sweet memories of her parents, whom she knew watched her from above. The pains of the past were just that…the past. And today, with Alastair Darrington by her side, she would begin a beautiful journey toward love and light.
October 31, 1816 – Marisdùn Castle, Cumberland
Callie, the Marchioness of Bradenham, stood beside the very fountain where she’d emerged from the mist the previous year. The memories of her days caught between the worlds of the living and the dead had been ever prevalent in her thoughts ever since she and Braden had returned to Ravenglass this last sennight. But, now, standing where she’d stood the year before, right beside the gazanias, she couldn’t help but suck in a panicked breath.
Oh, Marisdùn had been quite tame the last twelve months. No one had gone missing and the staff vowed that mostly benign spirits remained at the castle. But she would never forget the days she’d spent in darkness, terrified she would be lost forever.
She wasn’t quite sure why she was even here tonight. Braden had insisted she didn’t have to attend Quent’s Samhain party. He had to brave the castle in order to keep a watchful eye on his sisters, and Callie could have remained at Braewood with Cyrus that evening.
But she’d ventured out, determined to prove to herself that there was nothing to be afraid of.
A pair of strong arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her backwards against a man’s chest. “Doing all right, sweetheart?” Braden whispered against her ear.
She nodded, and rested her arms on top of his, still holding her tight. “Perfectly.” Then she glanced at him over her shoulder. “Has your brother had any luck finding his angel?”
Braden shook his head. “Who’s to say the girl even exists? You saw him last year. He was quite deep in his cups.”
He had been that, but Callie didn’t think Quent had dreamed up the girl. “Perhaps she only exists when the veil between the worlds of the living and dead is at its thinnest.” It was a theory Quent had confided in her a while ago. It was the sole reason for the party this year—to recreate, as close as possible, the same events from the previous year with the hope that Quent’s angel would reappear. Though Callie had no idea what her brother-in-law would do with the girl if she did turn out to be from the other side. Still, he’d been quite obsessed with finding her ever since she’d escaped from him the year before.
“Perhaps he should focus on girls who aren’t figments of his imagination.”
“Speaking of girls,” she began, spinning in his arms and sliding her hands up his chest to settle on his shoulders. “I can’t believe you’re not guarding your sisters right now.”
He scowled slightly. “Wolf and Chetwey are watching them at the moment. But if Kilworth takes a step in Hope’s direction…”
“You’ll stick his head on a pike,” Callie laughed. “I know. Everyone knows. You’ve made that rather clear.”
“Have I?”
Callie nodded, then she gestured to the fountain beside them. “This is where we met.”
“Mmm,” Braden agreed. “This is where I fell quite in love with you.”
“And this is where you saved me,” she added.
But Braden shook his head. “No. This is where you saved me, Callie.” Then he dipped his head down and bushed his lips across hers. “I’d have been lost without you.”
They’d have been quite lost without each other. But, together, over the last year, they’d both found all the happiness and joy that life had to offer.
The author of several Regency Noir Romances, Ava Stone first fell in love with Mr. Darcy, Jane Austen and Regency England at the age of twelve. And in the years since, that love has never diminished. If she isn't writing Regency Era romance, she can be found reading it.
Her bestselling Scandalous Series is filled with witty humor and centers around the friends and family of the Machiavellian-like Lady Staveley, exploring deep themes but with a light touch. A single mother, Ava lives outside Raleigh NC, but she travels extensively, always looking for inspiration for new stories and characters in the various locales she visits.
Ava can be found at www.avastoneauthor.com and at Lady Jane's Salon Raleigh-Durham, where she is one of the salon's directors. You can also find her at Facebook and on Twitter.
Ava Stone’s SCANDALOUS world…
A Scandalous Wife
A Scandalous Secret
A Scandalous Pursuit
A Scandalous Past
My Favorite Major
The English Lieutenant’s Lady
To Catch a Captain
An Encounter With an Adventurer
In the Stars
Promises Made (Encounter With Hyde Park)
A Scandalous Deception
And the Regency Seasons Novellas…
A Counterfeit Christmas Summons
By Any Other Name
My Lord Hercules
A Bit of Mistletoe
Jerrica Knight-Catania knew from an early age that she was destined for romance. She would spend hours as a young girl sitting in a chair by an open window, listening to the rain, and dreaming of the day Prince Charming would burst in and declare his undying love for her. But it wasn't until she was 28-years-old, tired of her life in the theater, that she turned her focus toward writing Regency Romance novels. All her dreaming paid off, and she now gets to relive those romantic scenes she'd dreamt up as a child as she commits them to paper. She lives in sunny Palm Beach with her real life Prince Charming, their Princess-in-training and their aristocat, Dr. Snuggle.
Find me at www.jerricasplac
e.com
Other titles available from
Jerrica Knight-Catania
The Daring Debutantes Series
The Robber Bride
The Gypsy Bride
The Stage Bride
The Wetherby Brides Series
A Gentleman Never Tells
More Than a Governess
The Wary Widow
The Bedeviled Bride
The Temptation of the Duke
And Many More!
As a child Jane would more likely be found outside with a baseball than a book in her hand. In fact, Jane hated reading until she was sixteen. Her passion for reading came about quite by accident when out of boredom on vacation she borrowed her older sister’s historical romance. She fell in love somewhere between Florida and Illinois and her love for reading never died.
Jane is lucky enough to be married to her own personal hero. Not only does he offer words of encouragement but has taken over much of the housework so Jane can have more hours writing. She has also been blessed with two fantastic daughters and an awesome son, all of which have brought various animals into the house. Currently the count is one dog and three cats.
Jane can be found at www.janecharlesauthor.com as well as Facebook and Twitter.
A Gentleman’s Guide to Once Upon a Time Series
His Impetuous Debutante
His Contrary Bride
His (Not so) Sensible Miss
His Christmas Match
The Wiggons’ School for Elegant Young Ladies Series
To Walk in the Sun
Ghosts from the Past (coming soon)
The Tenacious Trents
Compromised for Christmas (novella)
A Misguided Lord
A Perfect Gentleman
A Lass for Christmas (Novella)
