by Ava Stone
“Not even a partygoer dressed as one,” Garrick remarked.
“What about a Catholic priest?” Anna suggested, sliding forward a bit in her seat.
“A Catholic priest?” Quent frowned at her. “They’re about as plentiful in England as their Druid counterparts, my dear.”
Garrick shrugged slightly. “We’re not far from the Scottish border. May be easier to find one than you might think.” Then he turned his full attention on Anna. “Why a Catholic priest, Miss Anna?”
She pushed off the bench and said, “When we were in Rome, my parents and me, many years ago, I remember hearing a discussion about an exorcism. Only Catholic priests engage in such a thing. Brighid used the same word tonight.”
“An exorcism?” Matilda Southward echoed. “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 at hearing that, and her gaze sought Quent’s once more. “It would be better than chopping off his hand, I think.”
“A Catholic priest?” Miss Matilda cringed. “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.”
Quent nodded in agreement. “All right. We’ll find a Catholic priest one way or another.” And if he had to crawl all the way to Edinburgh or Aberdeen or swim across the Irish Sea to Dublin to do so, he’d drag a Catholic priest back to Marisdùn, himself. He’d do anything Lila needed, anything at all.
He just wished that he was able to have a private conversation with her about all sorts of things, starting with the fact that he knew she was his angel and ending with a confession that he was desperately in love with her. But it wasn’t the time, not with her clutching her sister’s hand in one of his subterranean cells, keeping watch over her Celt-possessed father, and as worried as Quent had ever seen her. So sharing his heart would have to wait. It just wasn’t the time.
So he turned on his heel out of the cell, and up the stone steps that led to the main part of the castle.
As soon as Lord Quentin left the dungeons, Lila glanced down at her lap and sighed. This was, without doubt, the single worst night of her life. Her father had become possessed and Lord Quentin—
“Did you tell him?” Tilly muttered softly.
Lila glanced at her sister. “Tell him?”
“That you’re his angel. Did you tell him?”
“You’re Quent’s angel?” Mr. Garrick asked, tugging on that cursed ring to no avail.
Lila’s gaze shot up to the gentleman to find him staring at her. Blast her sister for saying that in front of Mr. Garrick and Mr. Thorn. And blast Marisdùn’s dungeons for magnifying the words loud enough for the gentlemen to overhear.
“Are you really?” Mr. Garrick continued, as though he had no idea of the anguish Lila was going through.
“I’d really rather not discuss it,” she muttered.
Mr. Garrick quirked a smile in her direction. “Did he fall over when he found out?”
No, he’d stared at her, then turned on his heel and fled the gardens as fast as he was able, not that Lila wanted to make her humiliation and heartbreak public knowledge. “Pardon me, I just need a breath of fresh air.” She stumbled to her feet and then rushed from the cell without another word or a glance backward.
She hastened up the steps, rounded the first corner and would have bolted right out of the castle, if the sight of Lord Quentin in the middle of the corridor hadn’t stopped her in her tracks. He was talking in a hushed voice to King Arthur and Guinevere, or rather Lord Wolverly and Daphne who were dressed as the fated pair. Daphne glanced up and spotted Lila, and her friend waved her hand in the air.
“Oh, Lila!” she said softly.
Lord Quentin turned from his spot to better see her. “Lord and Lady Wolverly have offered to leave for Scotland,” he told her.
“Thank you,” she breathed out.
“Yes, yes, of course.” Lord Wolverly agreed with a nod of his head. “Anything we can do to help.”
Daphne smiled sadly. “We’ll be back as soon as we can, I promise.”
Then her husband draped an arm around her shoulders and quickly led her towards the castle’s entrance, while Lord Quentin started towards Lila. Her breath caught in her throat, she couldn’t help it.
Once he reached her, he tipped her chin up with the crook of his thumb until she met his gaze. “I’m so sorry,” he said gently, and tingles raced along her skin from the contact. “This is all my fault, Lila, and I’ll understand if you never forgive me.”
Forgive him? For what? She shook her head. “You’ve done more than I could ask for, my lord.”
“I had no idea you were here. I’d have never woken your father, if I’d realized, I—”
“You woke Papa?” she asked, blinking up at him. Why in the world had he done that? And after all the chamomile and marjoram Anna had slipped into his tea to ensure he wouldn’t wake on his own.
“I was looking for you,” he said and then shook his head as though it didn’t matter any longer. “This is the wrong time for this conversation, I know that, but I have waited a year for this...” And then he dipped his head to her and very softly pressed his lips to hers.
The tingles racing across Lila’s skin increased tenfold and her eyes fluttered closed. He was kissing her? Lord Quentin, her Lord Quentin, was kissing her, right in the middle of his castle for anyone to see. But Lila didn’t care. After the night she’d endured, after the panic and angst she’d suffered through, the momentary euphoria from his kiss washed over her; and for the first time in days, hope flitted about her heart.
He lifted his head and smiled down at her. “Sorry, I know I shouldn’t have done—”
Lila clutched the edge of his coat in her hands, pushed up on her toes and pressed her lips back to his, silencing the apology she never wanted to hear.
Lord Quentin’s arms slid around her waist and he held her close, just like he had on that fateful night a year earlier. And she’d never felt safer than she did in his arms in that moment, even with all the insanity swirling about them.
He growled slightly in his throat and his hold on her tightened. His tongue touched the seam of her lips and Lila opened for him with a sigh. He swept inside her mouth with an urgency she had never experienced. She wasn’t certain where they were, what time it was or even her own name at the moment. And she’d have given anything in the world for Lord Quentin to never stop kissing her.
But after a moment, he lifted his head once more and his hazel gaze heated her from the inside out. “Dear God, Lila,” he whispered.
She was light-headed and her chest heaved with each breath she took.
“Do you know I’ve wanted to do that since the very first day we met?”
Had he?
“And I would have if Callie hadn’t been present.”
Lila couldn’t help the smile that spread across her face. “You wanted to kiss me that first day?”
“And every day since,” he replied.
But that wasn’t true, was it? She shook her head and slid out of his arms. “We both know you were searching for someone else, my lord.”
“Quent,” he said, taking a step towards her. “No more ‘my lording’ me, Lila. And I wasn’t searching for someone else. I was searching for you, as you well know.”
“No.” She shook her head again. “You always knew where to find me. But you went back to London last year, and didn’t give me a second thought.”
“I thought about you every day.” He frowned.
But he hadn’t thought about her, he’d thought about his angel, the mysterious girl who’d kissed him and run off into the night. “No. You thought about a girl who doesn’t exist, Quent.”
“Oh, she exists.” A muscle twitched in his jaw. “And she haunted my dreams and kept me awake night after night over the last year; but you’re t
he one I love, Lila.”
Love? Had he really just said that word? “You love me?”
He shook his head like he was embarrassed. “When I saw you tonight, I knew I could unmask you, answer the question that had plagued me for a year but…” He heaved a sigh. “In that moment, I didn’t want some mystery girl I didn’t know the first thing about, I wanted you, Lila Southward, for all time and eternity which is why I went to the vicarage as fast as I was able and why I woke your father in my attempt to tell you so.”
She blinked at him in surprise. “In the middle of the night?”
He shrugged rather boyishly. “Once I was certain what I wanted—a life with you—I didn’t want to wait a moment longer than I had to...”
He wanted a life with her? Did he really? Lila’s heart pounded wildly in her chest.
“…I wanted your father’s blessing, which he refused to give me, by the way. So I rushed back here, hoping to find you before he could order you to never see me and then…” Quent winced. “And then all hell broke loose—Kilworth, your father, that damned ring. And it’s all my fault, Lila, every bit of it. If I’d just stayed here…”
Lila slid her arms around Quent’s middle and buried her head against his chest. “You were looking for me? I thought you were angry and running from me.” A sob lodged in her throat. But he hadn’t recognized her in the gardens, he hadn’t been running from her, he’d been running to her…She just hadn’t been home.
“I can’t imagine ever being angry with you.” He smoothed his hands down her back. “I love you, Lila. And when all of this is over with, I want you to marry me. I want to spend the rest of my life with you right by my side.”
Life was so very surreal. Her father was possessed by some ancient evil entity, chained up in the dungeons below. And now Quentin Post loved her and wanted to marry her. “When all of this is over with, the only thing I want to remember is you.”
He tipped her chin up one more time. “Is that a yes?”
Even with her life falling completely apart, Lila nodded. “I fell in love with you, Quent, that very first day when you carried me back to the vicarage. I spent a year away from you and I don’t want to ever do that again.”
And then he lowered his head once more and brushed his lips against hers.
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.
“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.�
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“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.”