Hell and Back

by Patricia Blackmoor

  “He’s grieved long enough!” Roderick scoffed.

  Annabelle fixed him with a cold stare. “There can never be a ‘long enough.’ You know that. Stop acting like you know nothing of grief.”

  “Again, Annabelle, you are right,” Lester said. “However, you know the rules just as well as I do. If Jasper doesn’t have an heir by age thirty, his brother can attempt to usurp him. And you know Seth. The minute the clock strikes midnight on Jasper’s thirtieth birthday, Seth will be petitioning the elders for a regime change. And that’s not something any of us can afford.”

  Annabelle sighed, looking around at the men’s faces in the soft candlelight. “Fine. But I’m not happy about it.”

  “No one asked you to be,” said Roderick.

  Annabelle narrowed her eyes at him for a moment, then turned back to the others. “I think you’re all forgetting one key factor. We can talk about how Jasper needs a wife all we want, but that won’t actually mean he’ll go out and get one.”

  “He will if it means retaining his duchy, right?” Adam asked. He was the youngest of the men, with wide eyes and an attempt at a mustache growing slowly over his upper lip. He rarely spoke, keeping his place as the newest member of the council.

  “Grief can do funny things,” Annabelle mused.

  “Perhaps we just need to get him in the right situation to meet someone,” Merrill suggested.

  “That would be easier if Jasper actually left Wolf’s Peak,” Roderick said. “When was the last time he went out for something that wasn’t business?”

  “That’s a fair point,” Adam said, leaning back in his chair. “I’ve tried to get him to come into town with me multiple times. He always declines.”

  “What if we threw a ball?” Stephen asked.

  “A ball?” Annabelle asked him, as she again readjusted her son in her arms.

  “Well, that’s how you and I met.”

  “And look how well that worked out,” she said, rolling her eyes. Then she jumped. “Ow! Daniel Isaiah Randolph, don’t you bite me!”

  “He’s starting early,” joked Roderick.

  Annabelle wasn’t amused. Instead, she turned to her husband. “I’m worried that a ball might be too overwhelming for Jasper. You know how he is. Too much socializing and he begins to shut down.”

  “That’s true,” Peter said, taking another drink from his glass. “We’ll never find him a wife that way.”

  “I disagree,” said Roderick. “What girl wouldn’t want to marry a duke?”

  “Am I the only one concerned about his well–being?” Annabelle asked the men. “We should find him someone who likes him for who he is, not his title.”

  “That may not be possible,” Stephen said. “At least, not in his own duchy, not in Faolancaster. Maybe if we go into the city.”

  “Well, what if we set him up on dates, one at a time?” Annabelle asked. “Each of us can find a girl, and he’ll meet them until he finds one he’s attracted to.”

  “That could take a long time, though,” Adam said.

  “What if we compromised?” Lester asked. He had a faraway look in his eye, a look he got when he was thinking hard.

  “You’ll need to elaborate, Lester,” said Annabelle.

  Lester returned his attention to the group. “Jasper would be overwhelmed by a ball, but one–on–one dates could take too much time. So, what if we compromised?”

  “Yes, you said that,” Annabelle told him. She knew that his years had made him wise, but she was beginning to grow concerned that in his advanced age his mind was becoming a bit dodgy.

  “What I mean to say is that we do what you suggested—we each find someone we think Jasper would like. Someone to help him move on from Cecilia. No offense meant, Annabelle.”

  “None taken.”

  “But instead of setting him up one–on–one, which could take weeks, we bring them here. Just them. Jasper doesn’t need Wolf’s Peak to be full of people. We bring the young women here to meet him, in a more relaxed, more comfortable atmosphere for Jasper.”

  “All at the same time?” Adam asked.

  “Precisely. We have a… what’s the word? A cattle–call.”

  “We are not calling it that,” Annabelle told him. She thought for a moment. “However, I do like your suggestion. We each bring a girl here. Allow Jasper to get to know them for a few days. When he’s ready, he can choose whomever he feels the best connection to.”

  “You know, in my day, you had no say in who you married,” Roderick said.

  “I know,” said Annabelle. “Your wife was far too sweet for you.”

  “What if he doesn’t like who we bring?” asked Adam.

  Annabelle looked around the table. “We are the ones who know Jasper best. I’m sure between the seven of us we can find someone.”

  “Seven of us?” Roderick sneered. “You think you’re bringing someone?”

  Annabelle raised an eyebrow. “Oh, I know I am,” she said. “After all, I know his type.”

  “Yes, but we’re men,” said Roderick. “We know what other men look for.”

  “All right,” Annabelle said, crossing her arms. “Well, what if we make it interesting?”

  Roderick leaned across the table. “What did you have in mind, love?”

  Annabelle bristled at the endearment. “Fifty pounds. Each. When he picks a bride, whoever brought her gets to keep it all.”

  The men gaped at her. Roderick snickered. Adam and Lester whispered to each other before Lester finally said, “I’m in.”

  Stephen shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “Annabelle, I don’t know if that’s such a good idea. That’s one hundred pounds I’d be giving up.”

  Annabelle leaned over to speak in her husband’s ear. “Darling, you won’t be giving up anything. I promise I’ll win.”

  Stephen looked around the table at the other men. Their eyes were bright; they seemed almost excited. Annabelle certainly had made things interesting. “Are you sure?”

  “I’m positive.”

  “Are you two done conspiring over there?” Roderick asked.

  Annabelle sat back up straight. “We’re done. Ow! Daniel! One more bite, and I swear, I will cut you off.”

  Stephen leaned down and kissed the top of his son’s head. “Be careful. She means it.”

  “You’re not funny,” she told her husband.

  “I think you’re all forgetting something important,” Merrill said.

  Everyone looked at him expectantly. Merrill took another drink from his glass. “We need to convince the duke of all of this. We can’t just spring this on him and expect him to take it in stride.”

  “He’s right,” Stephen said.

  Annabelle shrugged. “Very well, then. I’ll tell him.”

  “I thought you didn’t agree with this,” Roderick said.

  Annabelle grinned. “Well, yes, but now we’ve made it fun. In addition, I’m the only one here who isn’t terrified of him.” She paused for a moment. “Perhaps that’s not true. Daniel seems to like him.”

  “The only reason you’re not afraid is because you’re a woman,” said Roderick.

  “Damn right.”

  Roderick huffed at her. “That’s not what I meant. I mean, you aren’t afraid because, as a woman, you know that Jasper wouldn’t hurt you. We don’t have that luxury.”

  “In addition, I’m the only one who can break the news to Jasper with any bit of sympathy.”

  “What news?”

  The entire table turned toward the heavy double doors on the far side of the room.

  Jasper, a suit coat slung over his broad shoulders, strode in with a wide gait. His face, with its strong jaw and full lips, held a look of suspicion. “What are you talking about?”

  Everyone was quiet for a moment before Annabelle spoke up. “Jasper, we’re going to find you a wife.”

  Jasper froze in the doorway, his mouth set into a hard line. “I’m sorry?”

  Annabelle handed Daniel off to h
is father and stood up, crossing the room to where Jasper stood. His jaw was square, cheekbones sharp in the dull light of the fire. Anger burned behind his eyes, and his hands were taut and clenched at his side. The last time Annabelle had seen him with this mixture of anger and betrayal was the last time his brother had come to town, and that had not ended well. She put a gentle hand on his arm and he turned to her, his eyes filling with angry tears.

  “How could you?” he whispered.

  “Jasper, I miss Cecilia just as much as you do,” Annabelle said, rubbing his arm gently. “But right now, you need to put aside your personal feelings and do what’s best for your duchy and your pack.”

  He stared down at the floor, quiet for a while, his jaw still set in a hard line. Indecision flickered behind his eyes as the others waited in silence. Finally, he spoke, looking out over his council. “You think the best thing is to force me into marriage?”

  “The best thing is for you to have an heir, and unfortunately, we’re beginning to run out of time.”

  “This whole thing is ridiculous.”

  “I know.”

  Jasper began to cross the room, his body bristling with anger. He reached his arm, lashing out at an elaborate blue vase. It shattered to the floor in a pile of porcelain, but Jasper didn’t stop.

  “That was from the Ming Dynasty,” Annabelle said quietly.

  Jasper pretended not to hear her. “Our kind is living longer than ever now. I mean, look at Lester! He’s eighty!” he growled.

  “I’m eighty–one,” Lester said, puffing his chest up with pride.

  “Right,” Jasper bellowed. “He’s eighty–one. So, this rule that I need an heir by thirty… it’s ridiculous!”

  “I know that,” Annabelle told him. “You don’t need to convince me. You don’t need to convince any of us. We all know the rule is dated. You need to convince the elders.”

  Jasper sunk down into a chair in the corner, shaking his head. “I can’t do that,” he said, his head in his hands. “Do you remember Malcolm? They coated him in silver just for suggesting that perhaps the elders should be elected.”

  “They did what?” Adam asked. He looked sick.

  “Those were the days,” Lester muttered.

  “No, Lester, be quiet,” Annabelle said, wagging a finger at him.

  “You know, in my day, women didn’t have such smart mouths.”

  Annabelle responded with some very choice words that were generally thought inappropriate for a woman of her stature. Then she turned back to Jasper.

  “Jasper, I’m not suggesting that you take on the elders. However, since we are under their control, we must follow their rules. And that means that you need to produce a legitimate heir in the next twenty–four months.”

  “Twenty–three,” Stephen interjected.

  Annabelle rolled her eyes. “Right. Twenty–three.”

  Jasper rubbed at the back of his neck before folding his arms across his chest. He stared out at the roaring fire, contemplating, while his audience waited with bated breath. “All right. What’s your plan then?”

  Annabelle wrung her hands, hoping that revealing their plan wouldn’t send Jasper spiraling back into resistance against them. “Each of us will choose a woman that we think will strike your fancy. We’ll bring them back here, and you’ll have a chance to spend some time with them. Then you can choose whomever you like the best.”

  “And what happens if I do not like any of them?”

  Annabelle came and sat beside him. “Jasper, do you really think that between all of us, we can’t find you someone? We know you better than anyone.” It was the same answer she had given earlier, but saying it to Jasper, a knot twisted in her stomach. What if this backfired? What if he turned away group after group until their time was up?

  Her worry was unnecessary; Jasper seemed satisfied by this answer. “All right,” he said. “I suppose at the very least it’s worth a try. When is all this happening?”

  The councilmen and Annabelle exchanged looks. They hadn’t gotten far enough to discuss this yet.

  “I suppose it should be soon, so as not to interfere with the moon,” Stephen said uncertainly.

  “Next week,” Annabelle decided. “We’ll bring the girls here, and then you can spend the weekend getting to know them. And that gives us enough time to find someone suitable for you.”

  “So it’s decided.” Jasper’s jaw was still set.

  “Yes,” said Annabelle, her voice portraying much more confidence than she felt.

  “Fine,” Jasper sighed, throwing his hands up. “Now, are we going for a run tonight, or not?”

  “Of course,” Stephen said. He handed Daniel back to Annabelle, and the infant snuggled up to his mother. The men began to strip down, and Annabelle busied herself with her son so as not to see anything indecent. However, out of the corner of her eye, she glanced over at her husband and smirked. Perhaps if he didn’t come home too late, she could make him strip for her in private.

  Annabelle was walking Daniel around the room when something soft brushed against her. She looked down to see a familiar, hulking brown wolf.

  “Are you all ready?” she asked. The wolf nuzzled her hip, and Annabelle turned back around. She walked with the pack down the hallway to the large double doors at the back of the castle. She pushed them open wide, letting in the cool night air. Her brown wolf nuzzled her again and Annabelle knelt so Daniel was at eye level with him. The wolf licked his face, and Daniel giggled, grabbing fistfuls of tawny fur. When Annabelle stood up, the wolves took off into the night, the quarter moon shining down brightly as they disappeared into the forest.

  Miles away, in a small shack in a nearby city, Christine’s father took a shuddered breath. In two hours, she would be an orphan. In two weeks, she would be the wolf’s wife.

  Enjoy this sample of Ghosts of Glenwood Isle, a standalone paranormal romance.

  .

  Prologue

  The storm outside Glenwood Isle was just beginning, but inside, it had been simmering for a long time.

  The thunder crashing across the sky drowned out the sounds of the first gunshot, and the second, and the third. The servants now dead, the gunman stalked farther down the hallway toward the family, where he made his fourth shot. This one did not go unnoticed.

  The woman of the house bolted upright in her bed, the fifth shot ringing out moments later. Both the children were dead. He was coming for the parents next.

  Without ceremony, he burst into the master bedroom.

  “What have you done?” Clara asked, her voice drowned by the whipping wind and crashing waves.

  “What I’ve had to,” was the simple reply.

  “Please,” she whispered, a tear sliding down her cheek.

  “I’ve already taken the children.”

  A scream slid from her throat, high and anguished, overwhelming the thunder and wind and rain. The scream never finished, cut off by a bullet to her forehead, blood splattering against the wall as what remained of her head slid down the headboard.

  Finally, the gunman turned the gun on Roger and pulled the trigger.

  The Chesters were dead, and their spirits would linger for a long, long time.

  Chapter One

  I pulled up to the massive iron gates and turned off the car. Reaching into the cup holder beside me, I rummaged until I found the overfull keyring and the key labeled Main Gate in a thin scripted lettering. I pushed the door open, my tired feet hitting the ground, and I slipped the skeleton key into the lock. The doors were heavier than I expected. One of the first things I was going to have to do was put a new electric lock on the gate. Maybe something Bluetooth or Wi–Fi–enabled.

  I left the gate unlocked as I drove through onto Glenwood Isle. It was a bit of a misnomer, but Glenwood Peninsula didn’t have the same ring to it. The island was connected to the mainland by a thin strip of road, with Lake Superior lapping at both sides. Sometimes, if the snow melted too fast or if it rained too much, the road
would flood, and then it really was an island.

  I guided the car down the curved driveway and pulled to a stop at the front door of the mansion. Even the thirty–eight–room house wasn’t big enough to fill the nearly four–acre property. The surrounding grounds included multiple gardens, a carriage house, a beachfront, forests with hiking trails, and a cemetery. All of them needed work, but I’d be starting with the mansion.

  I searched the crowded ring for the Front Door key. Once the door was unlocked I pushed it open, the smell of dust and mildew hitting me. It had been a long time since anyone had been in here, evidenced by the plastic–covered furniture hiding in the shadows. I reached over and used a chair to prop the door open. I’d have to be careful; the chair was as old as the house.

  I stepped from the darkness of the house to the bright sunlight and began unloading my SUV. Because the house came furnished, I hadn’t packed much. Many of the smaller pieces from the estate had been sold when the city was trying to raise money for the upkeep of the mansion, so in addition to my clothes and toiletries, I had brought my own kitchen and bathroom accessories. In all, I had maybe a dozen boxes as well as my mattress. I had rented out my house in Minneapolis to a friend on a month–to–month basis. I didn’t know exactly how long I was going to be here. It depended on how long it took to fix this place up and sell it.

  The entrance to Glenwood Mansion gave merely a taste of the elegance the manor held. Though the house was dark, I could see the walls were covered in intricate wood paneling, and the hardwood floors were covered with rugs as crimson as blood. Just inside the door to the right was a small room. The paper map in my hand labeled it the Receiving Room. In front of me, the hallway split, leading to shadowed rooms. The hallway to the left led to the kitchen, dining rooms, and servants’ rooms. The hallway to the right led to the library, living room, and study. In front of me, a staircase stretched up to the second floor, accented with an ornately carved banister and stained–glass windows on the landing. Under the stairs was a door with the same stained glass that led out to the balcony. The furniture here, couches and loveseats and tables, was covered with dusty plastic that lent to the feeling of abandonment in this place.