Their child.
Aye, they would be a whole family soon.
She’d given him everything he’d ever hoped for, and he was glad he hadn’t allowed himself to be blind to its beckon. He had her to thank for such insight, of course.
For she’d been right in what she said when they first met; no coin or station was better than the beauty of true love.
And he was grateful to have learned so valuable a lesson from so bonny a teacher.
Epilogue
4 years later
The clash of swords rang out, followed by a peal of giggles.
Senara looked up from the small, perfect bundle where she cradled her newborn son. “Be careful now.”
Gavin turned toward her and gave a sincere nod.
She laughed. “I wasna talking to ye.”
Their daughter, Jenny, held Senara’s sword between both her small hands and let it swing wildly toward Gavin. He gave a rich, warm laugh and ducked the assault before plucking her up by her waist. She shrieked in delight and wriggled against her captor.
“Aye, listen to yer ma, lass.” He chuckled and took the sword from her before she could attempt another blow.
Jenny ran toward Senara, blonde curls bouncing around her bonny face. Her eyes were the same as Gavin’s, rich brown and deep with emotion.
Senara couldn’t have imagined a more perfect babe than their Jenny. That is, not until Geordie had been born only days before and she realized two such perfect children could truly exist.
“May I ride Norbert, Ma?” Jenny lifted her brows up and down in silent encouragement for a yes.
Senara laughed. “Ye’re a wee silly thing, Jenny.”
Jenny gave her a wide grin and wisely said nothing.
“Aye,” Senara conceded. “But make sure ye bring him an apple first and let Renny help ye feed him.”
Senara hadn’t thought it possible for anyone to love Norbert more than she – until Jenny, that is. The lass had an affinity toward the old horse that had taken just as quickly to her. They’d been fast friends ever since.
“How’s our littlest one?” Gavin slid an arm over Senara’s shoulder, and her head immediately leaned into the familiar crook of his neck. The scent of spring clung to him, all fresh air and new grass.
Senara adjusted the small bundle in her arms. Geordie blinked his blue eyes open and squinted up with a furrowed brow.
“He’s been a tired lad,” she replied. In perfect sync with what she’d said, his mouth parted into a wide yawn, revealing toothless gums and a small tongue stained with milk.
Senara glanced up at Gavin, and their eyes met with all the love and joy they shared between them. “He’s a handsome one, just like his da.”
“We do make bonny bairns.” He stroked his hand over Jenny’s silky head.
The lass grinned up at him as if he were the sun, the same as Senara had always stared at her own da so long ago.
“Ye rest here with Geordie. I’ll take Jenny to see Norbert.” Gavin caught Senara’s face in his hand. “Ye’re so beautiful, wife. I’m a verra lucky man.” He gave her a soft kiss, a gentle caress of his mouth to hers. “I love ye.”
She smiled against his lips. “And I love ye, my husband.” He winked at her before taking their daughter’s hand and walking toward the stable.
Senara lifted Geordie so he lay against her chest and watched her husband and daughter stroll hand-in-hand. The sweet scent of new baby under Senara’s nose beckoned her to lay kisses on the top of his downy head.
Her father’s sword lay on the ground beside her, destined to belong to Jenny when she was truly old enough to learn. It struck Senara how much it would fill her parents’ hearts to see her so happy. The very thought brought tears to her eyes, but it also carried with it the same kind of peace she’d only ever felt the day Balthasar disappeared.
She hoped Balthasar had found such peace after his wall had been removed and his remains carefully gathered and returned to the MacKintosh clan for proper burial.
Senara’s families would live forever in her heart, the one she’d lost, beside the one she had now, and she’d be forever grateful for having both with her always.
The End
Author’s Note
Castle of Park is an actual castle I was fortunate enough to stay in while vacationing Scotland in August of 2016. The original ghost story for Castle of Park includes two ghosts. One is a monk who was walled up somewhere within the castle. The other ghost is that of a young woman who fell in love with the master of the castle. When it was discovered she was pregnant, she was released of her position and then miserably threw herself out the window. She wore a green cloak when she did this and so the ghost stalking Castle of Park is of a young woman wearing green.
When I first read this, I thought it would be interesting to twist things around a bit. What if the monk sought vengeance on the person who was responsible for his death? What if the young woman fell in love with a good man who made her his wife and the person seeking to hurt her paid the price instead? The twist I’ve written still gives us two ghosts in the end, but everyone walks away vindicated.
I hope you enjoy my twist on the legend of the ghosts in Castle of Park as I certainly enjoyed writing it.
Thank You for Reading
Thank you so much for reading A Ghostly Tale of Forbidden Love. Please know that I read all my reviews and welcome your thoughts on my book.
To find out more information on my books and more about me, please visit my website at www.madelinemartin.com.
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Books by Madeline Martin
Mercenary Maidens Series
Highland Spy
Highlander Series
Deception of a Highlander
Possession of a Highlander
Enchantment of a Highlander
Novella
The Highlander’s Challenge
About the Author
Madeline Martin lives in Jacksonville, Florida with her two daughters (AKA the minions) and a man so amazing, he’s been dubbed Mr. Awesome. Madeline has an affinity for cat videos and wine memes as well as anything Scottish or rippled with muscle and wearing a kilt. She enjoys giving workshops and loves to help promo other authors. Make sure you check out her Facebook page every Friday when she features and gives away a book by a fellow author in her Free Book Friday event.
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The May Fair Princess
Meara Platt
Chapter One
Lake District, England
May 1815
“Oh, dear me!” Lady Winifred Kingsley had never been chosen to be a May Fair princess before, but everyone who lived in the quaint town of Grasmere knew that it was a great honor and never to be taken lightly. May princesses could never be late to the annual fair, for the festivities would not officially start until the queen and her entire court were assembled in the sprawling meadow in the heart of town.
The opening ceremony was a rather silly affair consisting of the princesses dancing around the maypole while Lady Darkwell, somehow always chosen as their queen, sat on her oaken throne with a sour expression on her face, and a piper tootled an ancient tune on his hornpipe.
“My crown!” Winnie stumbled over her own two feet as she hastily scooped up the entwined circle of vivid blue forget-me-nots and thrust it on her head before racing from Kingsley Hall, the tumble-down manor house where she lived with her three slightly dotty godmothers, Harmony, Serenity, and Prudence Merr
idale.
She turned onto the roadway leading into town, her gown hiked to her knees as she increased her stride, already trying to think of excuses for her tardiness. Of course, had she been concentrating on her path and not on those ridiculous excuses, she would have seen the gentleman standing beside her gate and avoided running straight into him.
Unfortunately, she did not notice him until it was too late.
“Oof!” She bounced off his hard chest and would have fallen backwards, tripping over the large pouch on the ground by his side, had the gentleman not caught her by the waist and drawn her close to steady her. Suddenly, she found herself breathless for reasons other than her haste.
She blinked and tried not to stare at his broad shoulders or his golden hair that gleamed in the bright morning sun. “Forgive me, sir!”
But it was impossible for her to turn away, for he was tall and trim, and decidedly muscled. He reminded her of a proud Viking warrior and certainly could pass as one. However, his attire more closely resembled that of a pirate and he did look the part, every detail precise down to the sword in the scabbard strapped to his thigh. All he lacked was a black patch over one eye to complete the roguish portrait. “Did I hurt you?” she asked.
He appeared surprised that she had spoken to him. Perhaps he was surprised she’d asked the question since she had been the one to suffer the impact of their collision.
He said nothing, merely staring at her with the most exquisite blue eyes she’d ever beheld. Winnie let out a tittering laugh that was silly enough to be echoed by a bird perched on one of the nearby trees. Of course, the stranger heard the chirping bird and grinned. Could her humiliation be more complete? “Ah, well. I see that you’re unharmed.” And gorgeous! “I must be off.”
He nodded and released her.
Too bad. She rather liked being in his arms. She’d never been held in a man’s arms before and now understood what all the fuss and lectures were about. Any girl would be easily led astray by this Viking warrior-pirate-gentleman. Oh, dear! Could he tell what she was thinking?
She suddenly felt quite awkward beside him, which was ridiculous since he was likely a commoner and she was a lady, albeit an impossibly disheveled one at the moment. Had her godmothers been home to help her dress, she might have been properly put together and already standing in the meadow with the other princesses chatting about the weather and how perfect it was today.
Alas, the three darlings were off visiting an elderly relation—one she’d never heard of before—and weren’t around to help her out. Neither were their servants, for she had given all of them the entire weekend off to enjoy the fair. If they returned to the manor, it would only be to sleep.
A warm breeze caressed her bare arms as she stood a moment longer staring at the stranger. “Um,” she mumbled, trying to think of something else to say.
He arched an eyebrow, as though questioning why she was still standing beside him and not scampering away as she’d just indicated. She truly wished to be off, but her legs refused to cooperate. Very well, to be truthful, not a single limb or organ appeared to be cooperating.
She turned away to avoid his steady gaze, pretending to concentrate on the soft rush of water in the distant stream as it meandered into Grasmere. Then she feigned fascination with the dazzling array of flowers on its bank, the vivid blue, gold, and pink petals daintily spread across the lush expanse of green grass beside the water’s edge.
Finally, Winnie tipped her face to the sun, noting the yellow ball against a cloudless blue sky. “Glorious day,” she muttered, daring to glance at him once more. Still gorgeous! “Well, I really must be off.”
The crown of forget-me-nots perched atop her unbound hair chose that moment to slip off her head and fall to the ground. Since the stranger was no longer looking at her but suddenly staring at the woods on the opposite side of the stream, she shrugged and bent to pick it up. She’d just dusted it off and placed it back on her head when she heard a soft growl emanating from those woods. “What is that sound?”
“Trouble,” the stranger replied in a husky rumble, speaking to her for the first time. “Run. I’ll hold them off.”
She turned toward the Kingsley manor house, but he caught her by the elbow and nudged her in the opposite direction. “No, to the May Fair. You’ll be safer amid the crowd.”
Her heart caught in her throat. “What about you?”
He withdrew the gleaming steel sword from its scabbard and twirled it as though it weighed no more than a delicate meadow flower. “I’ll find you once I’ve chased the demon away.”
“Demon, indeed,” she muttered, for peering back at her through the silvery green leaves was what appeared to be a pair of blood-red eyes. In the next moment, she heard the crack and splinter of branches as the wild creature tore out of the woods and lunged straight for her. Why me? She let out a shriek, tripping over her own two feet as she backed away and fell in an unladylike sprawl on the ground.
I’m a May princess! I can’t die today!
She tried to roll to her feet and run, but the hem of her gown tangled in her delicate slippers and she was left thrashing on her back unable to get up as the foul-smelling thing came perilously close.
“Hellfire! You’re a clumsy little thing,” the stranger muttered, obviously exasperated with her, although his voice was deep and remarkably comforting. “Stay down and don’t move.”
He sliced his sword blade through the air with lethal precision as though experienced in battle. Had he fought against Napoleon on the Peninsula? No doubt he must have participated in several major naval battles or other perilous engagements, for this was a man who understood danger and knew how to meet it head on. Winnie closed her eyes and covered her head as though that alone would protect her from harm.
The menacing growl suddenly became a chorus of growls as more creatures—a pack of wild dogs, perhaps—lunged at her savior, who now stood in their way. Those growls quickly turned to shrieks as the animals fell upon the stranger’s blade.
Winnie heard thrashing sounds, and then all went silent but for the soft whoosh of the wind rustling through those silvery green leaves in the thicket of trees. She dared to open her eyes as the silence persisted.
“Princess, are you hurt?” The stranger knelt beside her to help her up, but must have thought better of touching her and eased back slightly instead.
Her heart was still racing as she struggled to her feet, and her hands trembled as she began to wipe dirt off the delicate outer layers of lilac and blue sarcenet veiling that adorned her gown. “No, I’m quite well.” Her voice cracked. Fear of being ripped apart by those animals had turned her throat dry, but as she glanced around all appeared serene. One would think the encounter had been nothing more than a bad dream, for there were no injured dogs and no sign of blood. “Thanks to you. Just a bit shaken, that’s all. I’ve never been saved by a pirate before.”
He laughed as he rose along with her and secured his weapon in its scabbard. He held out her crown of blue forget-me-nots, which had once again landed on the ground. “Forgive me, I was almost too late.”
She gazed at him in surprise. “There’s nothing to forgive. You saved my life.” She looked at him, really noticing him now that she was regaining her composure. Her heart caught in her throat once more.
Indeed, the man could only be described as magnificent. A warrior from another time. It was merely a costume, of course. Or had he just returned from a long sea journey? She shook her head and sighed. Everyone wore costumes to the May Fair. But he truly looked the part of a battle-hardened warrior, a mix of pirate and Viking at that, with blond hair that fell to his massive shoulders and arms that were… yes, decidedly muscled.
Since the top of her head barely reached those wondrous shoulders, her gaze naturally settled on his broad chest. She felt the heat of a blush creep up her neck and onto her cheeks, for his shirt of sturdy white cotton was open at the collar and she could see a dusting of gold hairs peeking from his bro
ad chest. He wore no jacket, only a vest of black leather that hid little of his incredible body. Black trousers hugged his trim waist and long, firm legs, and black leather boots completed his outfit.
She tilted her head upward to meet his gaze and inhaled his light, spiced honey scent. A sweet, yet masculine scent. Perhaps a mix of exotic fragrances from the other side of the world. His eyes were quite extraordinary, the color of blue crystals. A deep and vibrant blue much like the sparkling waters of Derwentwater, one of the nearby lakes. Were her cheeks still flaming? “I’m Lady Winifred Kingsley.” She held out her hand expecting him to take it and drop a light bow before politely releasing it.
“I’m… er, Captain Ardaric Mariner, late of His Majesty’s navy.” He merely stared at her offered hand, so after an awkward moment she dropped it to her side.
She laughed softly and shook her head. “A pleasure to meet you Captain Ardaric Mariner,” she said, mimicking the deep and resonant timbre of his voice. His Majesty’s navy indeed! Did he think to fool her with that obviously made-up name? Mariner. In the King’s navy. “Or shall I merely refer to you as Captain Mariner?”
In truth, the man was quite dashing and did have the look of a privateer. However, he had saved her life so she supposed even such scoundrels could be honorable at times.
“Yes, Captain Mariner will do. A pleasure to meet you, Princess Aurora.”
Her laughter faded. “Why did you call me Aurora?”
He took a step toward her, his hand lightly resting on the hilt of his now-sheathed sword. “That’s your name, isn’t it?”
“My middle name is Aurora,” she admitted. “No one knows that.”
Romantic Legends Page 50
