One More Haunted Evening

by Ava Stone

  “Was she so dangerous tied up?” David asked.

  “I overheard my parents talking, when they thought I was asleep, that the girl had been able to turn the cross away from her, even though she was tied to the bed, and plunged it into a priest’s chest just by concentrating on it with her eyes.”

  A chill ran down her spine, similar to the one when she first heard her parents speak of it, right before she ran back to her bed and hid under the covers.

  “He lived, the priest, but they had to bring more in, surrounding her bed, taking turns until she was whole again.”

  “Goodness,” Daphne said, sliding closer to Lord Wolverly.

  He placed an arm around his wife, drawing her to his side as closely as he could without her being on his lap, as if to protect her from all the evils in the world.

  “Let’s just hope your uncle doesn’t wake until we get back,” David said.

  That was unlikely, unfortunately, since it would take nearly two days to get to Scotland and back, assuming they found a priest immediately.

  David held Anna close, her head resting on his shoulder as she slept. All of them had drifted off after they stopped at the first town to change horses and purchase bread and ale. After eating their fill and quenching their thirst, the four of them had finally slept. Wolf was awake now, as well.

  “I believed we’ve crossed into Scotland,” Wolf said quietly.

  David glanced out the window. It looked no different than the scenery of England.

  Wolf must have read his mind because he smiled. “There was a sign that Gretna is five miles down this road.”

  David relaxed back against the squabs, happy to know his friend hadn’t suddenly developed psychic abilities. Had he, David would never wager against Wolf again.

  Anna stirred as the carriage began to slow, and sat up, blinking. She looked so lovely and soft, with the morning glow of a good sleep and her hair mussed, as if she’d been tumbled. He couldn’t wait until he was able to look upon her as such every morning for the rest of his life.

  “Are we here?” Daphne asked, sitting up.

  “Yes,” Wolf answered.

  The carriage stopped in the yard of a coaching inn and the four of them stepped out, stretching their sore limbs. Several people stood about, casting them the oddest looks.

  “Perhaps we should have taken time to change,” Daphne muttered under her breath.

  They probably did look a bit ridiculous still in their costumes.

  “Where should we go?” Anna asked, turning slowly, taking everything in.

  A livery boy rushed forward to take the horses.

  “Where might we find a priest?” David asked.

  “Ye donna need a priest.” He grinned, looking them over. “This is Gretna. The blacksmith can marry ye.” He nodded across the way to the blacksmith’s shop.

  “We do not need to be married,” Wolf said. “We already are. But we do need a priest.”

  The young man frowned. “One momen’. Le’ me ask me pa.”

  He ran off before they could ask them anything further.

  “If you’ll excuse me,” Daphne pulled away from Wolf. “I believe I will freshen up while we wait for the young man to return.”

  “I’ll go with you,” Anna said, hurrying after Daphne.

  David looked around. “I believe I’ll just step into the woods for a moment.”

  Wolf nodded. “I’ll wait here and go when you return.”

  When David returned from the thicket, feeling much relieved, he found Wolf speaking with an older man, the livery boy beside him. “He’s jus’ outside of town, he is.”

  Wolf nodded. Had they found a priest this quickly?

  “Grey house with red shutters. Ye canna miss it.”

  “No church?” Anna asked, coming up from behind them.

  “No.” The young man shook his head. “Too close ta the border.” The young man leaned in. “I’m ta tell ye tha’ he isna a practicin’ priest if anyone asks. He goes by the name of Matthew Peters.”

  After the horses were changed, the four of them climbed back into the carriage.

  “Oh, I hope he can help,” Anna said, clutching at her black and red skirts.

  Anna watched out the window for the grey house with red shutters, her nerves mounting with each turn of the carriage wheel. The priest has to help us. He must.

  The carriage slowed as the house came into sight, and her heartbeat increased as the horses slowed and came to a stop.

  “Here we are,” Wolf announced.

  Anna said a quick prayer and allowed David to help her from the carriage. The four of them slowly walked to the front door and David knocked.

  An older woman opened the door and her eyes grew wide as she took in their appearances. “May I help you?”

  “We’d like to see Mr. Matthew Peters,” David announced.

  “Who might I say is calling?” The frown didn’t leave her face as she looked them up and down.

  Anna couldn’t really blame her. If four strangers showed up on her doorstep dressed as they, she’d send them away as well.

  “Lord and Lady Wolverly, Mr. David Thorn and Miss Anna Southward,” Lord Wolverly announced with authority, sounding much like he did earlier as King Arthur.

  “Who is it, Edina?” a man called from behind her.

  The woman stood back and opened the door further as she said their names.

  A tall man, with white hair and kind blue eyes came forward stopping on the threshold. His gentle smile disappeared once he saw them. “Samhain is over. This is All Saints Day and it would please me if you’d leave my property.”

  The man turned and headed back into his home.

  “Please, wait,” Anna called after him. “We need your help.”

  He slowly turned. “I don’t know what this about, but I’m certain I cannot help you.”

  Anna was not about to be put off. She stepped forward, moving just slightly into the house. At least on this side of the door, it couldn’t be slammed in her face. “We need a priest,” she whispered.

  The man stilled and narrowed his eyes on her. “Then find one.”

  “We were told you were one,” David said, coming up beside her.

  The man’s eyes hardened. “Who?” he demanded.

  “We will not say,” Lord Wolverly answered. None of them wished to get the father and son in trouble.

  “We need your help. Please, hear us out.” Anna practically begged.

  Mr. Peters looked them over again, then sighed. “Very well, come back into my library.”

  Anna blew out a sigh as the four of them followed Mr. Peters to the back of the house. Once they were in the library he shut the door. “Quickly tell me so that you can be on your way.”

  No one spoke. It seemed none of them knew quite where to begin.

  “Well?” he demanded.

  Straightening her spine, Anna rushed to tell him what had happened and what Brighid had told her about the ring. David filled in the details about Lord Quentin being thrown against the wall and burning his fingers.

  Mr. Peter’s angry expression changed to disbelief and then fear.

  “This was at Marisdùn?” he asked when they were finished.

  “Yes, sir,” Lord Wolverly answered. “You have heard of it?”

  “Aye, I have.” He shook his head and glanced at Anna. “And Brighid told you about the ring?”

  He said the name as if he was familiar with her, and Anna nodded.

  “Is this Brighid the daughter of Rowena Glace?”

  The four of them straightened. “You knew Mrs. Glace?” Anna asked with wariness.

  A kind smile formed on Mr. Peters’ lips. “There was a, um, situation, some years back, that, required the, shall we say, talents of Mrs. Glace.”

  “You needed a witch?” Wolf asked.

  “Wolf!” Daphne warned under her breath and Anna couldn’t blame her. One did not go about naming witches to Catholic priests because it usually did not end well
for the witch in question. Though Mrs. Glace had passed away, so there was little harm that could be done now.

  Mr. Peters chuckled. “There are many things in this world that are no’ easy to understand. I’ve never believed that because something is unexplained it is necessarily evil.”

  The tension finally began to leave Anna’s body.

  “Mrs. Glace was a generous and kind woman,” he assured them. “As it appears her daughter has inherited her talents, and I know of no Druid priest either, I cannot in good conscience turn you away.”

  “You will help?” Anna needed his agreement that he’d come with them, and not just tell them what to do.

  He nodded. “I need to gather a few things. Something of this importance cannot be approached without proper preparation.”

  “How long?” David asked.

  “It should not take me more than a few hours.” Mr. Peters looked around as he if was already mentally preparing a list of what he needed.

  “Why don’t you return to the coaching inn, have something to eat and rest, and I’ll be along shortly.”

  Anna looked to her companions. She was not at all comfortable leaving to wait. What if he changed his mind, or left? They’d have to start their search all over.

  “I’ll remain and help you,” Lord Wolverly announced.

  “It is not necessary,” Mr. Peters assured him.

  “I’ll feel better if I stay,” Lord Wolverly insisted. “I’ll just get my chainmail and sword from the carriage.”

  Anna choked back a laugh. Did Lord Wolverly plan to intimidate the man with his costume if Mr. Peters changed his mind or threaten him with his sword?

  “I’ll stay with my husband,” Daphne said.

  Well, there really was no reason to leave. “It’s settled. We’re happy to wait,” Anna announced.

  “I’m not,” David said quietly.

  “He does need to prepare,” Anna pointed out.

  “Yes, and that will take a few hours.”

  “It is quicker than I had hoped,” she said. And it was. Her fear was that they’d be traveling through Scotland until they found someone. “We really should give Mr. Peters time if this is to be done properly.”

  “Yes, and the timing is not what I have a problem with,” he said with a smile.

  “Then why are you concerned?”

  David turned toward her fully and took her hands in his. “I’d rather not sit here waiting for Mr. Peters when we could be standing in front of an anvil.”

  She gasped. Did he mean…?

  “This is Gretna. You did agree to be my wife.”

  Anna bit her lip, trying to keep the smile from her face. Was it right to marry without the blessing of her uncle?

  Then again, if Mr. Peters was unsuccessful, she might not ever get his blessing. Further, if they did get her uncle back, David most assuredly would not get his blessing.

  “Go,” Mr. Peters said. “Be married and be happy. We won’t be long and many blessings to you.”

  His mother was going to kill him. Not that she didn’t want David to get married. The woman had been harping about that very issue for the past five years. No, she was going to be upset that it took place in Scotland and that she wasn’t present. He’d smooth things over for her once they returned to London. But, right now, he was standing with Anna, before a blacksmith, about to become man and wife.

  As they had to wait for the priest, they had but three options. Stay at the house while the man packed, go to the coaching inn for a warm meal, or get married. There really was only one option as far as David was concerned.

  Besides, Anna had agreed to marry him and he wanted to take care of matters quickly, before she had a chance to change her mind.

  He chuckled to himself when he looked down at her. Not that he had ever pictured what his bride would one day wear, he was just as certain that if he had pictured it, it wouldn’t have been a black and red Venetian gown from the Middle Ages. Yet, he wouldn’t have it any other way.

  Anna was his and she was beautiful and as soon as the issues with her uncle were dealt with, he was going to take her away where nobody could disturb them so he could make her his in every way possible. It was practically all he’d thought about for a year and it was about to become a reality.

  An older woman, whom David learned was the smithy’s wife handed Anna a bouquet of heather and smiled broadly before nodding to her husband to begin.

  He cleared his throat. “Do ye, Mr. David Michael Thorn, take Miss Anna Elizabeth Southward ta be yer wife?”

  “I do.”

  “Do ye, Miss Anna Elizabeth Southward take Mr. David Michael Thorn ta be yer husband?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do ye both wish ta be married for as long as ye both shall live?”

  “Yes,” they answered in unison.

  “Do ye have a ring?”

  David stilled. He hadn’t even thought about a ring. “I promise to get you the most beautiful ring as soon as we return to London.”

  She looked up at him, her smile brilliant. “It isn’t necessary.”

  “Take one of these,” the Smithy’s wife opened a box containing various sizes of gold bands. They must not have been the only couple to forget this detail.

  David sifted through them and selected a thin, gold band, then held it up to Anna for her approval.

  She gave a quick nod and stuck out her hand.

  “We’ll pu’ it on,” the smithy told him as if David should have figured this out already. It wasn’t like he’d done this before.

  The gold slipped over her delicate finger. A perfect fit.

  At that moment, the blacksmith struck the anvil. “Under the ancient rights and laws of Scotland ye are now man and wife.”

  And with that, they were married. What David had feared most of his adult life, turned out to be the happiest moment of all. Anna was now his. Forever.

  “Well, are ye gonna kiss her?”

  The next day was nothing short of painstaking. Wolf, Daphne, Thorn and Anna had left for Scotland, on the search for a priest who could—God willing—exorcise the demon Celt from the vicar’s body. That left the rest of them to take turns watching over said Celt. If he had stayed unconscious, that would have been fine, but the fact he was awake, and more than just a little angry, made it all the more difficult. One couldn’t even rest their eyes in his presence, for he made such a racket, bellowing and carrying on about murdering everyone once he was free.

  Tilly kept insisting that Sidney go above stairs and try to sleep, but he’d be damned if he was going to leave her alone down here with this monster. Besides, it wasn’t such a hardship to sit on this bench and cradle her in his arms, which was exactly what they were doing now.

  “What are you thinking about?” he asked when they’d been silent for quite a long stretch of time.

  Tilly took a deep breath and then let it out on a sigh. “All sorts of things, really,” she replied. “Do you think Father will remember any of this when it’s all over?”

  “If he’s alive when it’s over,” Sidney began, “my guess would be no. I don’t think he’ll remember a thing.”

  “Good.” Tilly nodded, her eyes fixed on the seething monster. “I think I would wish him death over any memories of this.”

  Sidney couldn’t blame her. Knowing what he did of the vicar, death would be far preferable for him. “I pray it doesn’t come to that,” he said, pulling her closer.

  “As do I. I’m not certain I could bear losing another parent.”

  It wasn’t a topic Sidney cared to talk about much, but it wasn’t something he could keep from Tilly any longer. “I lost my mother too, you know?”

  Her head snapped up and her wide, hazel eyes stared at him in awe. “You did?”

  He nodded. “I was thirteen, in my second year at Harrow. I’d known she was ill when I left for the school year—I even begged my father not to make me go. I wanted to be with her as much as I could before…” He shook his head, as if he
could make the grief and the memories fall right out of his head.

  “Do you miss her?”

  “Every day.”

  Tilly nodded, shifting to face her father again. “Me too.”

  They sat in silence for a long moment, and then Sidney gently grabbed her chin and tipped it up to face him. He wanted to kiss her, but he knew the Celt would only make a scene about it, as he’d done several times in the past day and a half. But really, he just wanted to convince her to go and rest. Darkness encircled her eyes, and her cheeks were sunken in from not having eaten properly.

  “Go upstairs, won’t you?” he asked, praying his tone conveyed the level of concern he felt for her.

  She shook her head out of his grasp and nuzzled herself deeper into the nook of his arm. “You should know that’s a waste of your breath by now,” she said. “I’m not leaving you.”

  “Well, when we are relieved of our duties, you must promise me that you will sleep.”

  “How on earth do you think I’ll be able to sleep with this going on?” She gestured to her father, who continued to struggle against his restraints. Would he never tire of trying to break free?

  Sidney sat quietly, contemplating ways he could get Tilly to go to sleep. Of all the ways—tinctures, lullabies, rocking—he believed there was one fool-proof way to get her to acquiesce to his wishes. The mere thought of it made his trousers tighten, made his breath shorten. Damn and blast, he couldn’t take advantage of her at this time. That would make him the worst sort of cad.

  Voices alerted them to Quent and Lila’s arrival. They appeared a moment later, looking slightly more refreshed than they had several hours earlier.

  “Any news from above?” Sidney asked as they approached.

  Quent shook his head. “I don’t expect them back for a couple more days, at least.”

  It had only been just over thirty-six hours. How would they all survive two or three more days? He looked at Tilly, who seemed as if she was about to wilt to the ground. Damn. He had to convince her to sleep.

  “Any developments with our ancient friend here?”

  “I’m not your friend!” the man bellowed, his voice reverberating off the dungeon walls.

  “I guess not,” Quent said, answering his own question. “There are refreshments in the main salon. Do try to get some rest, both of you.”