The Haunted Knight 0f Lady Canterley

by Patricia Haverton

  “I know that you are right. Were it not for Grace, she would have left a long time ago. Once she has discharged her oath to our mother to care for Grace there will be nothing left for her here.” Jonathan sighed, his sorrow etched into every line of his face. “As much as she loves me, it is not enough to hold her here, nor would I wish it to be.”

  Tristan’s heart went out to his friend. “No matter what happens in the days to come, my friend, remember that you are never alone. We are here for you and always will be. When you are in need or simply wish to be reminded that you are loved, call upon me, and I will come. We may not be brothers of the blood, but we are most certainly brothers of the heart.”

  “Here, here,” Henry raised his glass in agreement.

  “I thank you both, but I can handle Father. He has never treated me or Grace as he has Amelia. I will miss them both, but I only want what is best for them. I bear the guilt of so many years in which Amelia suffered in silence. I did what I could for her, but it was not enough. It will never be enough. Father is a good man, but he demands respect and perceives Amelia’s independent spirit as disrespect, a refusal to conform to the excepted norms of society.”

  “The lass was nae meant for such things,” Malcolm remarked quietly studying Amelia’s face. “Sometimes when I look at her or hear her speak, I cannae help but think that she was meant for a different place and time entirely, a place and time where lassies are free tae do as they please just as we men are.”

  Jonathan snorted. “A fantasy land that will never exist.”

  “I would nae be so sure. ‘Twill be lassies such as she that will make it so.”

  “You are an odd man to be sure, Malcolm Maxwell.” Jonathan shook his head in disbelief, but there was a look in his eyes that told Tristan that Jonathan wished such a thing were so for Amelia’s sake.

  “Aye, there is nae doubt about that,” Malcolm smiled knowingly, “but I am nae wrong.”

  “She deserves such a fantasy to be true,” Jonathan murmured gazing at Amelia, pain in his eyes, “but it is not the way of things.”

  “Aye, but it should be.”

  “As it is, she is seen as little more than a beautiful disaster in our father’s eyes. ‘Tis nothing but a never-ending war of hearts and wills between them, one that is becoming clearer by the day she will not win.”

  “Then it is settled. We will all do everything within our power to see that she comes to live with Grace and I, until she is ready to choose a husband to wed herself, preferably Tristan.”

  Tristan smiled at that. Malcolm nodded his head in agreement. “Aye, if e’er there was a lad the lass should be wed tae ‘tis His Lairdship.”

  “She loves you, Tristan. She just needs a little more time,” Henry reassured him in quiet earnest.

  “Then I shall wait until the end of time if necessary,” Tristan promised, meaning every word. “She is worth the wait.”

  Chapter 27

  Amelia awoke to a cacophony of masculine snoring. She opened her eyes and found Jonathan, Henry, Fergus, Malcolm, and Tristan all sleeping in chairs sitting in a half circle around her. The two Scotsmen snored so loudly that Amelia feared they would permanently damage something anatomical. She attempted to sit up and grimaced in pain, her hand flying up to the bandage that covered her head. Memory of what had transpired between herself and her father flooded back awash in pain.

  She groaned and lay back upon the chaise lounge unable to bear anything resembling an upright position. She closed her eyes again and prayed for the pain to cease. She felt as if someone had stabbed her through the skull. Close enough, she admitted, silently remembering the iron fire poker her father had wielded with such fury. He had blamed her for putting Grace’s life in danger by her disobedience, an offense he was unable to forgive.

  The touch of someone’s hand startled her and her eyes flew open in fear of who it might be. “’Tis no one but I,” Tristan’s voice reassured her apparently seeing the panic in her eyes. “Your father is sleeping off the brandy in his bedchamber.”

  Amelia relaxed upon hearing his words of reassurance. “Good,” she croaked out, frowning at the atrocious sound. Tristan moved to get her a glass of water and brought it back, holding it to her lips for her to get a drink. “Thank you,” she whispered.

  “Of course. You have been out for some time. Mrs. O’ Boyle saw to your wound.”

  “I must thank her at the earliest opportunity,” she attempted to speak once more with a bit more success.

  “I am sure that she is already aware of your appreciation for all that she does, but I will be sure and relay your gratitude to her.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Not at all.” Tristan reached up and brushed the hair from her face to examine the bandage. “The bleeding appears to have stopped. I see no signs of seepage.”

  “That is good.”

  Tristan smiled. “Yes, that is very good.”

  Amelia looked up into his eyes and felt her heart turn over in her chest. “I am sorry,” she whispered, not trusting her failing voice to construe the true extent of her sorrow over how they had parted.

  “As am I,” he murmured. He reached out and caressed her cheek. Amelia turned her face into the palm of his hand and closed her eyes drinking in the feel of his skin upon her own. His touch was better than any medicine could ever be to ease her pain.

  “You did nothing wrong,” she admitted, opening her eyes to meet his. “’Twas I that caused harm, not you.”

  Tristan took his hand from her face and grasped her hand between both of his own. He brought it up to his lips and kissed it tenderly. “You had your reasons.”

  “Yes, I did, but that is no excuse for all that I have put you through.”

  “There is time enough for that later. For now, you rest and concentrate on feeling better.”

  “But…”

  Tristan shook his head interrupting her arguments. “When you are ready, I will be here.”

  “That does not seem fair to you after all of this time.”

  Tristan shook his head again. “Life is not fair, I came to terms with that long ago, and time matters not when compared to eternity.”

  “Eternity? Will not death be a bit of an impediment to such lofty aims?”

  Tristan chuckled and kissed her hand once more. “Eternity is how long that I will be blessed to love you. What is something as medial as death between us? Whatever may come, whether in life or in death, my love for you will not change. If it takes a lifetime for you to be ready, then that is how long I will wait. In the meantime I get to love you and that is enough.”

  Amelia felt dizzy, but she was not sure whether it was Tristan’s words, or her head wound that caused the world to move about in such a chaotic manner. “Tristan, I…” her words caught in her throat and she did not know what to say.

  “I will be here,” he whispered the promise into her skin sending tingles of sensation from her fingers to her torso.

  “Amelia,” Jonathan’s voice broke through the haze of her mind. Tristan moved back and Jonathan knelt down beside her taking his place. “I am so sorry that I could not protect you.” Tears of guilt and worry glistened in his eyes.

  Amelia reached up and laid her hand on his cheek. “Do not fear for me, brother, all will be well in time.”

  “We have come up with a plan and I want you to listen to it in its entirety before you interrupt,” Jonathan informed her anxiously.

  “I am listening,” she agreed.

  Jonathan proceeded to lay out a plan to convince their father to allow her to go and live with Henry and Grace once they were wed, where she would remain until she had chosen a husband for herself. Amelia’s eyes unwittingly turned to Tristan and he smiled down at her nodding in encouragement. “Is this something that you could tolerate?” Jonathan asked, his eyes begging her to accept the plan and not run away again.

  “He will never agree to it,” she informed him.

  “But if he did?”

 
“Then yes, I would do so.”

  Jonathan’s face broke out into a relieved grin and he kissed his sister’s hand. “As soon as Grace is returned to us, I will speak with Father on the matter.”

  Amelia looked back at Tristan again, her eyes saying what her mouth could not. There was so much to talk about, but it was never the right time to do so, even now. Turning back to Jonathan she licked her dry lips and attempted a regular voice. “Have you heard anything about Grace?”

  “Not yet, but I have a feeling that we will soon.”

  Amelia sighed nodding at her brother’s words but stopped short at the pain that stabbed through her skull. “Welcome back,” Henry’s voice sounded somewhere behind Jonathan. Amelia turned her head and smiled in greeting at her future brother-in-law.

  “’Tis good to be back, I think,” she winced as another pain coursed through her head.

  “A bit of brandy will set you to rights.” Jonathan arose and poured her a drink. “It should take the edge off of the pain.”

  “I am addled enough without the aid of spirits, my dear brother,” Amelia quipped in a weak effort at humor.

  Jonathan smiled and nodded in acknowledgement of the effort. “Even so,” he replied handing her the drink, “perhaps just a sip or two.”

  Amelia acquiesced and did as bidden, then handed it back closing her eyes unable to keep them open for very long at a time. “Rest,” her brother admonished patting her hand. Amelia lay with her eyes closed and allowed the harmonizing snores of her two favorite Scotsmen to lull her back to sleep under the watchful eyes of her most-cherished guardians.

  * * *

  When the ransom letter finally came it had been so long expected and yet denied that they all just stood around it for a moment unable to move or speak. It was Jonathan who first broke the silence. “She is alive.” He handed the letter to Amelia and waited silently as she read the words for herself. Amelia devoured the letter with her eyes taking in every detail.

  “She is alive,” Amelia breathed in confirmation. “Assuming they are telling the truth.”

  “If they lie, they do not get paid,” Jonathan pointed out.

  Amelia handed the letter to Henry for him to read. “It is time,” he solemnly murmured. She could tell that he too feared a trap built of lies.

  “I will go and tell Father,” Jonathan offered, then turned to climb the stairs. The Viscount had kept to himself since the incident in the library, apparently too ashamed of his behavior to face the rest of them. It had been for the best as it had allowed Amelia to recover in relative peace.

  When Jonathan returned to the library, the Viscount followed close behind. Henry handed him the letter and they all waited quietly for him to respond to its contents. “Very well,” he murmured. “We will prepare to leave at once. It is a few days’ ride to the meeting place.”

  Jonathan and Henry exchanged a look of concern. “Henry and I were speaking on the very subject and think that perhaps it might be best if he and I were to deliver the funds for Grace’s return. In the event that it is a trap, the head of our family should be ready to take immediate legal action against those responsible.”

  The Viscount considered this in silence for several moments. Jonathan looked as if he were holding his breath, not sure whether to expect an angry outburst or acceptance. “Yes, I see the wisdom of your plan,” the Viscount nodded slowly. “You are perfectly correct in your thinking, but I must insist that you take at least two armed guards with you to the exchange.”

  “I will go,” offered Tristan.

  “Nay, my boy. This is a family matter. My children were wrong to include you in it. The ransom letter was quite clear on that point,” the Viscount rejected the offer. “Take two of the servants. Fergus and the new man you hired… What’s his name? The other Scotsman?”

  They all exchanged looks with one another silently agreeing not to correct him in his misunderstanding of Malcolm’s role in the entire ordeal. “Malcolm, Father,” Jonathan answered instead.

  “Yes, Malcolm. They both appear to be familiar with the use of firearms.”

  “They are,” Jonathan nodded in confirmation.

  “Very well. The kidnappers cannot object to that. A nobleman should never travel without at least one servant at his disposal.” The Viscount turned to Tristan. “I thank you for your aid in our family’s time of need, but I think it would be best if you returned home now. As I said this is a family matter and our Grace will need time to recover from her ordeal in quiet once she is safely returned to us.”

  Tristan’s brows raised at being so dismissed but having no choice as it was the Viscount’s household, bowed in reluctant acceptance and turned to leave. “I will be at my country manor house if anyone needs me.” He gave a pointed look at Amelia, letting her know that he meant he was there for her protection and safety, then left the room.

  Amelia, fuming, wished for nothing more than to admonish her father for his poor manners, but managed to remain silent with great difficulty. She turned away so that he would not see her thoughts upon her face, but she was too late. He had already noticed. “Amelia, it would be best if you retired to your room to rest, while the men of the house discuss what must be done.”

  Before she could say a word in response, Jonathan moved next to her and took her arm. “I will see you to your room, sister. We would not want you to fall down the stairs as you are still recovering.” He looked down into her face with an expression that said to remain silent. Amelia allowed him to lead her out of the library toward the staircase.

  Amelia tried to jerk away. She turned glaring up at him. “How could you agree with him after everything we have been through together?”

  Lowering his voice, Jonathan drew her nearer to him. “Do not rile him. There will be no one left here at Canterley to protect you from his wrath. While I am gone, you must stay out of his way. Remember, we must convince him to allow you to go with Henry and Grace upon our return.”

  Amelia’s anger softened and she nodded slowly. “I will do my best,” she promised, though she still very much wished to tell her father exactly what she thought of his opinions on the place of women within the household.

  “One day you will be a great lady in charge of your own household with a loving husband who respects you enough to let you have your own way.” They both knew there was only one man who fit that description. “Be patient and someday soon you will be free of our father’s ire.”

  “Wed well and all will be well between us,” Amelia snorted in derision.

  “Yes, my dear sister, that is very much the way of it, but there are worse things than marrying a man who loves you and who, if you are being honest with yourself, you love as well.” Jonathan reached out and rubbed his thumb along her cheek bone, before extending his arm to her. “Shall we climb?” he asked gesturing toward the stairs.

  “I suppose we must,” Amelia sighed and took his arm. Someday soon, she promised herself, I will be free, one way or another.

  Chapter 28

  When Henry and Jonathan set out for the rendezvous point with Fergus and Malcolm in tow, they were not at all certain what awaited them on the other side of their journey. They were not pleased that the meeting had been set so far from Canterley, but it was at least within reasonable riding distance from Slantonshire. This proximity to Henry’s estate made them all the more suspicious that it was someone from his own estate that was the instigator of their woes.

  “Do not worry, my friend,” Jonathan reassured Henry. “We will discover those responsible and bring them to justice no matter where they may hide themselves. Tristan has set everything in motion for their discovery and capture with his friend in London.”

  “I noticed that you kept that a secret from your father,” Henry remarked, more to make conversation and fill the empty spaces in his mind and heart than anything else.

  “Nay. Tristan and I felt it best not to anger him further by our involving another person outside of the family. We can tell him all
about it when it is over. Once he has Grace back safely, then he will not care who we involve as long as we are discreet and do not cast a shadow on the family reputation.”

  “A wise decision,” Henry agreed. “Once our Grace is back, all will be better for everyone concerned.”

  “Indeed,” Jonathan nodded his head in agreement. He frowned creating a furrow in his brow as he surveyed the horizon.