by Jane Charles
A flash of irritation lit on Quent’s face. “Fairly certain if my brother wasn’t married to his sister, he’d have brought me up on charges of some kind. I suppose it was helpful that Hope found Kilworth’s body instead of me, though not for Hope. Braden has vowed not to let her leave his or Callie’s sight until they leave Ravenglass.”
Thorn glanced at Anna, who sat worrying her bottom lip, as they tried again and again to no avail to remove the ring. “Anna, tell him what Brighid said about the ring.”
Anna blinked at sat straighter. “Brighid said the ring is evil.”
“Sorted that one out for myself,” Quent muttered.
“It belonged, apparently, to Rufus Flavius and was stained with the final life blood of Cynbel the Celt. And Cynbel has held onto the ring ever since.”
Garrick looked up from his task, meeting Thorn’s eyes. Neither one of them were particularly happy to be this close to the ring.
“After being tortured, after witnessing the death of his wife and children, all of Cynbel’s goodness had been stripped from him. All that was left of him in those final, awful moments was agony, despair and hatred. And that’s what the ring is.”
“Well, that’s perfectly horrifying.” Quent leaned against the cell door.
“Oh, it gets better,” Garrick said, blowing out a breath and raking a hand through his hair. “The ring cannot be destroyed, even if we’re successful in getting the damned thing off the vicar.”
Anna shook her head. “The Druids tried to do so, but they were unsuccessful. It can only be hidden, unfortunately.”
“Hidden in a priest hole until some unsuspecting fellows stumble upon it?” Quent asked in disbelief.
“Someone must have thought it was sacred ground,” Miss Lila Southward suggested.
An unpleasant thought occurred to David. He’d seen the ring, but not the …“We still have that jewelry box, right, Quent? Apparently it needs to be returned to that box and blessed by a Druid priest.”
“Because there are so many of those hanging about in the year of our lord 1816?”
“Not even a partygoer dressed as one,” Mr. Garrick remarked.
* * *
All Anna had been able to think about was that blasted ring and what they would do with it once it was off. Though, it didn’t look like it was going to be coming off any time soon. Mr. Garrick and David had been working on it for hours and the thing hadn’t budged.
Her eyes landed on the axe propped against the wall. They would eventually get it off one way or the other.
Certainly there was a Druid Priest about somewhere. She wouldn’t have thought witches existed, until she met Brighid. Who was to say the quiet gentlemen living next door to her uncle wasn’t a Druid Priest? It was highly unlikely, but she wouldn’t dismiss the possibility either. Not that she was going to go about town asking the residents if anyone happened to be one. Nor, could she explain a Druid Priest was needed to expel an evil spirit and put a ring back into a box.
They’d have her shipped off to Bedlam in a blink of an eye.
Something about spirits and expelling tickled in the back of her mind. A memory that she desperately tried to latch onto. Closing her eyes, she remembered those days in Rome with her parents. That was it.
Anna slid forward on her seat. “What about a Catholic priest?”
“A Catholic priest?” Quent frowned at her. “They’re about a plentiful in England as their Druid counterparts, my dear.”
“We’re not far from the Scottish border. Might be easier to find one than you might think.” Mr. Garrick shrugged. “Why a Catholic priest, Miss Anna?”
She rose from her seat as the memories became clearer. “When we were in Rome, my parents and I, many years ago. I remember hearing a discussion about an exorcism. Only Catholic priests engage in such a thing.”
“An exorcism?” Tilly asked. “That sounds positively awful.”
“It’s to expel a demonic entity from its host,” Anna explained. “Uncle Walter does seem possessed to me.”
Lila winced. “It would be better than chopping off his hand, I think.”
Tilly cringed. “A Catholic priest? I don’t think he’ll ever forgive us.”
“If we don’t do something,” Lila said softly, “he’ll never have the opportunity to never forgive us.”
Chapter 20
David was done. They’d tried every cream, ointment, butter, lard and even a sharp knife to try and cut through the metal, but the blasted ring wouldn’t move. Gathering all the ointments and instruments, he left the cell, locking it behind him. At least the vicar hadn’t woken up. Yet!
Anna stood. “I need a cup of tea.” David needed something stronger, but now was probably not the best time to imbibe. He followed her up the stairs and into the kitchen. The herbarium was quiet and the lights were off. At least Brighid, Chetwey and the babe were sleeping. Who knew how long it would be before they got any rest.
Instead of stopping in the kitchen, Anna continued outside, stopped and took a deep breath.
“I thought you wanted a cup of tea?” David asked, coming up beside her.
“I think I need a walk more,” she sighed. “I can’t stand being down there and seeing my uncle like that.” She turned more fully toward David. “What if none of this works and he’s like that forever?”
“Hush.” David placed his hand against the softness of her cheek. “It will work out. Someone will get Cynbel out of your uncle and get that ring back into the box and it will be as if none of this happened.”
Anna smiled weakly up at him. “I’m fairly certain I’ll never forget.”
Neither would he. Just like last year was still etched in his brain, and being in that dungeon as they banished Mary Routledge.
“Let’s take a stroll. It will help clear my mind.”
David offered Anna his arm. It was good to be out of the castle and in the fresh air.
The continued on the winding path out of Brighid’s garden and around the side of the castle until they were at the front. What few partygoers that still remained were either making their way inside to retire, or waiting for their carriages to be brought around. The party had pretty much come to an end, though he had no idea what time it was.
Wolf and Daphne, still dressed as King Arthur and Guinevere, were off to the side, speaking quietly. Neither stayed at Marisdùn this year because Daphne’s brother still owned a home in Ravenglass and the two wished for more privacy than the castle allowed. Not that any humans would bother them, but they didn’t wish for spirits to be surprise them at inopportune moments. At least, that’s what Wolf had told him in private.
“I don’t mind going to Scotland, but where would we find a priest?” Daphne whispered to Wolf as they approached.
“Ah, Quent tasked you with finding the priest,” David said as they drew up to them.
“I don’t think it is going to be as easy as he hopes,” Wolf grumbled. “But we’ll go and see who we can find.”
“It will be easier than trying to find one here,” David said.
Wolf pinned him a look. “You do know that Catholicism is outlawed in Scotland too.”
David laughed. “Of course, but since when did any of the Scots care about English law?”
“I want to go too,” Anna blurted out.
David studied her. She was serious. “Shouldn’t you be here with your cousins?”
“Why. There is nothing I can do. It isn’t as if they need me to hold their hands.”
True. Apparently they had Quent and Garrick for that now. Just as Anna had him. But he didn’t want her off traveling with Wolf and Daphne. He wanted Anna with him.
“What if the priest doesn’t believe them?” she continued. “Three is better than two.”
Even if they found a priest, there was no guarantee the man would come with them. Wolf may just have to force the man, which he couldn’t do on his own. “Four is even better.”
Anna blinked up at him in surprise.
&n
bsp; “If you’re going to Scotland, so am I.” Before anyone could argue, he strode over to a footman and asked him to tell Quent and Braden where he and Miss Anna Southward were headed so that nobody worried. When he returned, Wolf’s carriage came around.
“We’ll change quickly,” Daphne promised.
David looked down at his clothing. At least he wasn’t really in costume this year. He wore black knee britches, now dusty from being in the dungeon, a black waistcoat, jacket and shirt. As his change of clothing was back at Marisdùn, he’d just need to make do.
“We do not have time to change,” Anna argued.
“I’m not traveling all the way to Scotland in chainmail,” Wolf informed her.
“Just take it off dear.” Daphne smiled up at him. “You’re wearing a perfectly respectable shirt beneath.”
Wolf glowered at his wife, but made no further argument as he knocked on the ceiling of the carriage with the hilt of his sword. A panel opened a moment later. “Yes, Lord Wolverley?”
“Straight to Gretna, as fast as you can make this carriage go.”
“Very good, my lord.”
Anna turned her back to David. “Would you please unhook my wings? They’re rather uncomfortable when trying to sit back.
David set about finding the fastenings on the back of the dress wishing they were alone and could unhook much more than just her wings.
* * *
Anna relaxed back against the squabs, her gossamer wings discarded on the seat beside her. At least she was doing something. Though, not much as she was in a carriage on the way to Scotland, but at least she wasn’t wandering around the castle, wringing her hands, waiting for her uncle to wake.
“What if we can’t find a priest?” she finally voiced her fear.
“I’m sure we will.” David squeezed her hand in comfort.
She blew out a sigh and looked out the window the passing scenery bathed in the moonlight.
“You’re right,” she finally said. She had to believe they’d find a priest and he would know what to do. “I just hope he will come with us.”
“No one would deny King Arthur’s command,” Lord Wolverly announced in a voice of authority.
“Of course not, Dear,” Daphne chuckled.
A smile pulled at Anna’s lips. She’d missed Daphne since she’d married and moved from Ravenglass, and she really missed her rum butter. Her mouth watered and her stomach grumbled. When had she eaten last?
“Hungry?” David chuckled.
“I was thinking about Daphne’s rum butter,” Anna admitted.
“Oh!” Daphne exclaimed. “I have some. I forgot to leave it in the kitchen.” She pulled a basket from beside the seat. “We’ll stop and purchase bread at the first town and will be set until we reach Scotland.”
Anna’s mouth watered anew at the thought of the creamy goodness.
“What made you think of a Catholic Priest?” David asked.
“When I was in Rome, with my parents, a girl not much older than me was suffering from an ailment of some sorts,” Anna began as the memory came back to her. “It is said that she could make things fly across the room without touching them.”
“Like your uncle did to Quent?” Thorn asked.
“I suppose.” Since she wasn’t there to see it, she’d have to take his word on what had occurred. “They say that she spoke with the voice of an old man, but strong and loud.” Anna bit her lip and looked at the others in the carriage. They were watching her with interest.
“She wasn’t always like that. Sometimes, she behaved like a normal little girl, but then would change. It became more frequent until one night, while she slept, they tied her to the bed. When she awoke, she wasn’t herself again and screamed and yelled so loudly that she could be heard nearly a block away.”
Daphne brought a hand to her throat.
“Her parents finally sent for a priest. I don’t know what they did, but it took nearly a week before the girl was herself.”
“A week?” Wolf asked.
“That’s what I remember. My parents didn’t like to discuss is, but I remember them being frightened and concerned. They didn’t want me anywhere near that house. I don’t know if they feared it would happen to me, or the girl would get loose.”
“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.
Chapter 21
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 h
ouse 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.
