Once Upon A Haunted Castle: A Celtic Romance Anthology

by Eliza Knight

  There was something tense in the air for a moment.

  Gavin narrowed his eyes. “Ours are.” He slid Senara a glance she couldn’t read and then set off with Renny and the horses.

  Lady Edana ignored their departure and turned toward Senara. “I’ll show ye to yer room. Ye are expected to unpack after I’ve been put to bed.”

  Senara nodded. It seemed a hasty request, especially when Lady Edana had been so obviously displeased with her early arrival. Regardless, Senara bobbed a quick curtsey in reply and followed Lady Edana into the massive castle.

  Inside, the sun was entirely blotted out and left Senara momentarily blinded until her eyes adjusted to the absence of light. The air was cool and spiced with the scent of cooking herbs. Large tapestries hung from the walls and picked up flecks of the scant light coming in through the windows with their gilt thread.

  Senara tried to discreetly observe her surroundings while still keeping up with Lady Edana’s quick, gliding pace. After all, she’d have plenty of time to study the rich interior’s beauty in the coming months of her employment.

  Three flights of stairs later found Senara on the uppermost floor. Gone were the fine tapestries and pieces of heavy furniture and resplendent paintings which had flavored the rest of the castle. A plain hallway stood in front of her with several simple wooden doors. They made their way to the one at the far end.

  “Ye’re fortunate to have yer own room,” Lady Edana said. “For now, at least.”

  She pulled a great ring of keys from her pocket and unlocked the door.

  Inside, the room was barely wide enough to hold two small beds with a narrow table set between them. Senara felt a smile grow on her face.

  Her own room.

  Her very own room. Even temporarily, it was a luxury beyond anything she’d imagined possible. A single window glowed on the opposite wall, with a beam of golden sunlight shining through. Senara walked toward it and set her traveling bag on the bed while peering out.

  The land stretched as far as she was able to see, all green treetops and splashes of purple heather.

  Had she ever seen the world from so high up?

  Giddy excitement sped through her to observe such beauty, all for her personal enjoyment in her very own room.

  “If ye’re done with yer things…” Lady Edana’s voice was impatient, and only then did Senara realize she’d frozen in front of the window.

  Senara spun around toward her new mistress. “Forgive me, my lady. I’m ready now.”

  Lady Edana gave an approving nod and beckoned Senara to follow.

  Senara pulled in a deep breath and held her smile. Life on her own was about to begin and, so far, it all looked magnificent.

  Why, then, did a sudden shiver of trepidation squeeze its way down her spine?

  *

  “Will there be a wedding to celebrate soon?”

  Gavin lifted his head from where he’d been reviewing some correspondence he’d received in the time he was away to find Edana standing in front of his desk.

  How was the woman so damn silent?

  Irritation pressed at him, but better now than when she finally pestered the reply from him later. “It isna to be. Her father wouldna hear of an alliance.” Gavin folded the parchment in front of him, following the thickly indented seams of how it’d been folded previously.

  Edana’s mouth disappeared in a hard purse. “Ye’ve put this off too long already. Ye should have listened to me when ye were younger and wed then.”

  Gavin said nothing. She had been right, something he hated to admit. But there was no sense in discussing the topic further when it couldn’t be changed. He could not undo the past.

  “Ye need an heir.” Edana’s sharp tone further pricked at his ire.

  “I know that.” He gave her a hard look, which she returned in equal measure.

  She’d never looked at his father thusly, spoken to him thusly. Gavin wondered for the countless time if his father would have made the request he did had he known.

  “This is no’ a fertile family,” Edana continued. “Ye know it took my parents over ten years to conceive yer father and me.”

  “I know that.” Gavin repeated.

  And he did know that. In fact, he was immensely aware of how infertile his family had seemed to be. His grandparents had tried for a child for over a decade before finally having twins, both his father and Edana. No more children followed.

  His grandparents had apparently lamented their limited children, especially when one had been simply a girl.

  Before them, his grandfather had taken even longer to conceive.

  Already, Gavin was eight and twenty. How long would it take him to have an heir once he began the effort?

  Edana’s deep sigh hissed through her nostrils. “Ye have no heirs and I’m too old. When ye die, everything goes to the king. He’ll make it all like England, the land he’s so—”

  “Enough.” He said the word low and even, a deep unspoken threat lingering in the benign delivery.

  He pushed aside her valid points and tried not to think of what truly would happen to Castle of Park if he were to die. The king would get it, of course, and most likely leave it and the people unattended as he did the other castles in his care.

  Gavin lowered his gaze to an additional piece of correspondence. It was a rude dismissal of his aunt. One he knew she would get and obey, even if grudgingly.

  After a long moment, the rustle of her silk gown whispered her departure.

  Finally, he allowed himself to look up.

  Beyond the large shelf of colorfully-spined books, the day was slipping away in red-gold light streaked with purple.

  The streaks of purple made him think of the way Senara’s delicate hand had skimmed over the heather. Not for the first time, he wondered how the rest of her day had gone.

  But he did not have time for such idle thought. Not when he needed to ready himself for the feast everyone had prepared in honor of his return.

  He started down the stairs, his mind tangled in thoughts of how necessary an unwanted wedding was, when someone crashed headfirst into him.

  Beautiful green eyes met his and widened. “Ach, I’m sorry, laird, I dinna—”

  “Senara.” He felt himself smile as he said her name. “Dinna worry yerself.”

  Her cheeks reddened to a bonny flush and he had the sudden desire to run his thumb over her cheek, to see if her skin was as soft and warm as it appeared.

  “Has Castle of Park treated ye well?” He studied her, wanting to hear her say yes, wanting her to enjoy his home, his world.

  A lovely smile lit her face. “Oh, Gavin, it’s all so beautiful. I feel as though I’ve become a princess to live in such a grand castle.”

  He knew he ought to remind her to call him laird, but then he had introduced himself to her as only Gavin. And if they were only in private, it did not matter. Perhaps it even had something to do with the way she said his name, her voice sweet and tinged with the light of her happiness.

  “I’m glad ye’re enjoying it,” Gavin said truthfully. “If ye need anything, ye come to me, aye?”

  Senara smiled up toward him, her face beautiful and open and truly filled with gratitude. “Thank ye.”

  “I’ll see ye at dinner.” He inclined his head toward her and she bobbed a curtsey.

  He waited on the stairs a moment longer than necessary, prolonging the brief meeting with the fascinating woman. She kept her gaze fixed on his and climbed the stairs with their eyes still locked until she rounded the corner and disappeared from sight.

  Only then did the fragile spell curled around his heart loosen and leave him free to descend the stairs toward his chamber to ready himself for the feast.

  It was unfortunate Senara did not still hold a title, and a greater one than a knight’s daughter at that. She would be a woman Gavin could see himself not only tolerating in marriage, but even enjoying.

  At any rate, it was not uncommon for Gavin to dance with th
e servants at feasts. While he could not wed Senara, he decided he would at least seek her out for a dance. With the resolve of his decision lightening the burden on his chest, he realized he did not so much dread the upcoming feast – in fact, he was looking forward to it.

  Chapter Three

  Senara had never attended a feast in a castle.

  Or at least none she could remember. Her parents had been held in high regard with the king when she was but a girl. Perhaps she’d been then, but surely she would have remembered the gaiety of it all.

  Fine food flavored the air with the most delicious scents of freshly baked bread and simmered meat so tender it fell away when merely looked at. Music coursed through the great hall, like a beating heart that filled the castle with the pulse of vivacious life.

  Senara moved about the mass of gathered people with ease, timing her steps and the swing around people to the thrumming beat. Her cheeks ached from smiling, and she could think of no better reason in all of Scotland to ache.

  Lady Edana sat high on the dais beside Gavin, her deep burgundy gown freshly brushed and her dark hair plaited beneath the hood she wore. She’d seemed pleased with Senara’s attendance of her preparation that evening, which had in turn pleased Senara.

  Her gaze slid to Gavin for the countless time.

  He leaned back in his chair with an ease which spoke of his comfort among his people. He wore a saffron leine and a belted kilt of green and rust, the colors smattering the landscape. A smile hovered at his lips and his eyes crinkled at the corners. There wasn’t a person in the room he hadn’t spoken to, nor one which hadn’t appeared happy to see him.

  Something soft bumped against Senara’s hip. “If ye keep staring at him all night, he’s bound to notice.”

  Her face flared with heat and she spun to find Anice, one of the kitchen maids, watching her with a blatant grin. The candlelight caught her red hair and made it gleam like copper.

  “I canna blame ye for yer stares. He’s a fine man.” Anice’s gaze rested on Gavin and slid over him with appreciation. “Aye. Verra fine. But dinna get yer hopes up, lass. He’s no’ ever taken one of us to his bed.”

  Senara’s mouth fell open. “What? No, I dinna—I wasna planning to—”

  Anice winked and put a hand on her narrow waist before making her way back to the kitchens, her curvy hips swaying in time to the beat of the music.

  “Senara.” Edana’s voice rose over the music.

  Grateful for something to distract her mind from the embarrassment of the conversation she’d just shared with Anice, Senara quickly made her way to the dais and kept her gaze fixed only on Lady Edana.

  Her lady held out an empty goblet with a plaintive expression. “I want more of my wine from France.”

  Senara nodded, but her mind scrambled through all she’d learned in the brief day she’d been there. Nothing of the lady’s wine surfaced to memory.

  “In the kitchens,” Lady Edana added with a hard smile. Her bared teeth were all flat, as if she’d spent a lifetime gritting them down.

  Senara bobbed a grateful curtsey and left the great hall. Outside, the chatter of the crowd fell away and soothed her mind with the sudden silence. She turned down the hall toward the kitchen and was met with a wave of cool air.

  It was heavenly.

  Perhaps it was due to nerves and serving, or perhaps it was still the latent heat from her inappropriate conversation with Anice, but Senara hadn’t realized how very hot she’d become. She closed her eyes and stayed where she was a moment, reveling in the cold caress against her overheated flesh.

  When she opened her eyes, she noticed a fine sifting of mortar at the bottom of the far right wall. Curious, she wandered closer to inspect. The nearer she got, the colder the air became until all traces of heat had fled her cheeks and palms.

  She pressed her hand to the wall over a flat piece of stone. It was chilled beneath her fingertips, but that wasn’t what made her jerk her hand back. No, it was the way the stone seemed to vibrate beneath her touch, shifting and humming as if it meant to rupture.

  “Senara,” a voice called from the kitchen.

  Senara snapped upright and hurried toward the sound of the voice. Her palm still tingled with the chill of the stone, the weird sensation of it shuddering against her hand.

  A buxom kitchen maid passed Senara a finely sculptured pot. “Anice usually handles this, but I see she’s finally got a real lady’s maid.” She nodded her obvious approval. “Lady Edana is no’ best kept waiting, lass.”

  The heady scent of wine rose from the pot and plucked at the memory of how her father had surprised her mother once with a small cask of rich red wine. Her mother had been delighted.

  Senara’s tongue prickled with the memory of how the dryness had puckered her mouth when she’d been allowed a sip and how sharp it’d been going down.

  The kitchen maid lifted her gray brows. “Away wi’ ye.” She waved her hands toward Senara, urging her from the room.

  By the time Senara arrived at Lady Edana’s side, displeasure carved the lady’s features downward and made the loosened flesh at her cheeks appear shriveled, like an apple left too long in the sun. “It certainly took ye long enough.”

  Senara leaned over the table and poured the wine. “Forgive me, my lady.” Wine glugged out from the narrow neck of the flagon and splashed gracelessly into the goblet.

  Lady Edana straightened away from the cup as though Senara had sloshed it toward her and the costly dress she wore. “Careful, ye little fool.”

  Senara’s face went hot once more and she longed to be in the hall with the strange, cold stone.

  Away from her lady.

  Once Senara had lifted the pot from the goblet, Edana snatched it up and took a long swallow. Her head snapped up and she slowly turned to Senara. “What is this?”

  Senara studied the pot in her hand, which was heavy against her palms, the clay now hot from her discomfort. “The wine ye asked for.”

  Without warning, Edana rose with such suddenness the chair she sat upon clattered backward and caused all in the room to cease their conversations and stare.

  Senara clutched the pot harder in her hands to keep from dropping the costly wine in her surprise.

  “Ye ridiculous chit.” Lady Edana’s face tinged red and her eyes seemed to bulge from her face. “How difficult is it to grab a bit of wine?”

  Then her hand drew back and, too late, Senara realized the lady meant to strike her.

  *

  Gavin was out of his seat with Edana’s thin arm locked in his grip before he realized what he was doing.

  His heart knocked hard in his chest with the desire to bestow upon Edana the same lack of mercy she’d intended for Senara.

  “Calm yerself,” Gavin said through his teeth.

  Edana jerked her arm from his grasp. “I am calm.” She glared at him for a moment and her nostrils flared, a clear sign she was anything but calm.

  “It’s wine.” Gavin looked toward Senara, who still clutched the flagon to her chest, as if she sought to protect it above herself.

  Her eyes were wide with surprise at his aunt’s outburst, her face soft with shock, and he knew she’d never been spoken thusly to before. Here, in his home, she had encountered her first moment of true hatred and bitter ire. He could not help the rise of humiliation and disgust at his wayward relation.

  Anger burned through him, and he found himself wishing Edana were a man so he could let his rage unfurl and flare.

  But she was a woman, and the one he had been sworn to keep close and safe.

  “We dinna beat servants in Castle of Park.” Gavin spoke slowly and in a voice low enough to keep his anger from boiling over. “If I ever hear of ye beating a servant, I’ll have ye beaten in kind.” He drew in a deep, steadying breath, though it did little to calm the roaring of his blood.

  Edana met his level gaze with one of her own. A challenge. She was the only person in all of Banff who dared look at him in such a manne
r.

  Gavin became aware of the stares around them and the silence of the hall. It was so powerful that the absence of noise left his ears aching.

  Edana turned to her toppled chair and glared at the nearest servant. “Fix this.”

  A lanky man snapped from his daze and rushed forward to right the piece of furniture. She dismissed him with a wave of her hand and plunked down into the seat with her arms resting on the sides, her fingers curling over the edge like the talons of a resting harpy. Her chin lifted to an over-proud tilt, but she said not another word.

  At least she did not verbally challenge him in front of his people.

  Finally, he turned back to his clan and put an easy smile on his face. “I think we’ve all had enough food for one night.”

  There were a couple of uncomfortable chuckles, and several men smacked their ale mugs to the flat wooden tables with a bellow of agreement.

  “Shall I choose a lass to start the dancing?” he asked.

  The quiet gave way to a riot of cheers and whistles.

  Gavin carefully took the flagon from Senara’s clutch. She released it with great hesitation and her gaze flicked toward all the faces now resting on her once more.

  “Lady Senara, will ye do me the honor of dancing with me this evening?” He bowed low and arose with his hand held toward her, palm up in invitation.

  She glanced toward Edana, and the small act of her obvious fear slipped into Gavin’s heart like a blade.

  “Dance wi’ him!” a woman shouted from somewhere behind them.

  “Dinna worry about her,” he said quietly to Senara. “I willna let her punish ye.”

  Senara put her fingertips to his palm and a tentative smile hovered at the corner of her lips. She gave a slow nod. “Aye, I’ll dance with ye.”

  A cheer rose up and spots of color showed on her cheeks.

  Gavin led her toward the cleared area of the great hall while the musicians readied to play once more with random notes peppering the air intermittently.

  When they arrived, they faced one another and put their palms together. Senara’s pulse thrummed wildly against his own.