The Lady Unmasked Page 16

  Lila glanced up at the only man she’d ever fallen in love with. “Don’t tell me you’re afraid of Papa?”

  “He was quite adamant that night. He said I was the last fellow he would ever let marry you.”

  Papa had been his usual charming self, hmm? It didn’t matter what Papa had said before or even what he said now. Lila wasn’t about to lose Quent, not now, not ever.

  “And then,” Quent continued with a wince, “I shackled him to the wall of my dungeons for days.”

  “That was for his own good. For the safety of him and everyone else.”

  “Yes, well, you’re reasonable, but…”

  She turned to face him fully, pushed up on her tiptoes and pressed a kiss to his lips. Very soft, very short, just a reminder that she would stand by his side no matter what. “We need to at least see him before we settle on Gretna.”

  “All right.” He nodded, though he still looked just as concerned as he had a few moments before. He heaved another sigh and then led her towards the white salon.

  They stepped over the threshold, hand in hand, but Lila stopped in her tracks when her eyes landed on her father. His face was bruised with awful gashes, but his eyes were back to their icy blue color instead of the black that had stared at her with such hatred the last few days.

  “Papa,” she whispered. “Is it really you?”

  “The demon is gone,” Father Matthew said, from just a few feet away, and it was then that Lila realized the white salon was quite filled with Tilly, Anna, and a number of Lord Quentin’s friends.

  “There was no demon,” Papa grumbled. “And I won’t have some Catholic priest saying there was.”

  Father Matthew shook his head, looking rather exasperated. It was a feeling Lila had experienced many times when dealing with her father. “I ken ye remember some of it, Mr. Southward, even if ye doona admit as much to anyone else.”

  Papa’s gaze flicked to Quent and his usual look of condescension was firmly in place. “I think I’ve been perfectly clear about my feelings in regards to you holding Lord Quentin’s hand, Lila.”

  Quent squeezed her fingers as Lila straightened her spine. “I’m marrying Lord Quentin, Papa,” she said evenly. “We can wait until I’m twenty-one and we won’t need your approval. Or we can ride for the Scottish border…”

  Papa glanced very briefly in Anna’s direction and Lila was wishing she and Quent had gone along to Scotland to find Father Matthew all those days ago.

  “…Or you can marry us and show my future husband how…” What was the word Quent had used? Ah yes, “…reasonable you can be.”

  “I, um, do have a special license,” Quent added softly.

  “Over my dead body,” Papa grumbled.

  And then inspiration hit Lila. Or perhaps it was just renewed bravery. Papa was such a stubborn man, but she thought she knew how to use that to her advantage all of a sudden. She turned her attention to Father Matthew and said, “We could ride back to Gretna with you, sir. If you wouldn’t mind doing the honors once we cross the border?”

  A Catholic priest and a Scotland wedding. Papa would have an apoplexy at just the suggestion. He did start to cough.

  “The last thing I’m going to do is let him marry you.” Papa glared at the Scottish priest.

  “Does that mean you’ll marry us yourself, Mr. Southward?” Quent asked, warming to Lila’s tactic.

  “I won’t have it said that my daughter was married by a Catholic priest,” he almost growled, which was as good as an acquiescence, at least as far as Papa was concerned.

  “Wonderful,” Quent continued, as though Papa’s demeanor hadn’t affected him in the least. “We’ll let you do the honors today then, before Father Matthew has to head back home.”

  Papa folded his arms across his chest, but he didn’t refuse to marry them, and that was as good as it was likely to get.

  Twenty-One

  Quent didn’t like leaving Lila alone with her father, but he did need to retrieve that license. And he did owe Father Matthew quite a bit of thanks for helping to bring Mr. Southward back to his grumbly old, but no-longer-possessed, self.

  He begged a minute of the Scottish priest’s time as he headed off towards his study. “I can never thank you enough for coming to our aid as you did.”

  Father Matthew smiled softly. “I’m not done yet, Lord Quentin. This castle is practically teeming with spirits who all need to cross over to the other side.”

  In recent days, the spirits had been practically nonexistent. “It’s been so quiet with the other ghosts, I almost forgot Marisdùn was haunted.”

  The priest shook his head. “They’ve been hiding, waiting for Cynbel to be dealt with, my lord, but they are still present, have no doubt.”

  “They’re mostly tame,” Quent said as they rounded a corner. And mostly they were.

  “They need to be freed. It’s unkind to keep them trapped between these worlds. They need to pass on to the other side to find their redemption or salvation once and for all.”

  “Freed?” Quent echoed. “How does one go about freeing ghosts?”

  “Every room in this castle needs to be blessed, my lord. I mentioned that upon my arrival, and it’s what needs to be done.”

  “You want to bless every room?”

  Father Matthew nodded. “And I want to take possession of that jewelry box of yers. I doona think ye want anyone else stumbling upon it as ye and yer friends did.”

  Quent stopped in the middle of the corridor. He certainly didn’t want to hold onto the thing. He wished he’d never found it in the first place. But why would Father Matthew want it? “What are you going to do with it?”

  “Hide it,” the man said simply. “Hide it and keep anyone else from findin’ it.”

  That sounded like a decent plan, but…“How can you make certain no one will ever find it? I’m sure whoever hid it in that priest hole thought they’d found the perfect hiding place.”

  “There are places for such…artifacts. I’d like to send yers to Rome. Have the contents detailed and then sealed away for safe keepin’.”

  “Have the contents detailed?” Quent asked. “You mean the box would be labeled with a warning for anyone else that should come upon it?”

  “Precisely.” The priest agreed with the nod of his head.

  “There’s a place for such things in Rome?”

  An enigmatic expression flashed across the vicar’s face. “I’m not really at liberty to discuss these things, Lord Quentin.”

  Then Quent wouldn’t press for more. After all, he owed the man quite a bit as it was. “I trust it will be safer with you than whatever we might come up with.”

  “Good,” He smiled slightly. “And if it’s all right with ye, I’d like to get to blessing the castle this afternoon. It’ll take a while, but we’ll cleanse Marisdùn Castle so it’ll be safe for ye and yer bride for many years to come.”

  “I do like the sound of that.” Even if Lila never wanted to step foot in the place when all of this was said and done.

  Quent could only stare at Lila across from him in the great room. How perfect it was that she’d decided to wear that same sparkly white dress that had first enchanted him the previous year. Of course, Lila had enchanted him long before he’d stumbled upon her at last year’s Samhain masquerade. He’d just been too foolish to acknowledge it.

  She smiled up at him, soft tears shimmering in her eyes as Vicar Southward begrudgingly pronounced them man and wife.

  Quent drew Lila to him and gently brushed his lips across hers, while all of their friends and family cheered them on….Well, all except for Vicar Southward. But Quent didn’t really care what Lila’s father thought about the situation or even that his angelic bride had essentially blackmailed her father into performing the ceremony. All that really mattered, all that would ever matter, was that she was his from now until the end of time.

  Tilly, Anna, Callie, Hope, Grace and Patience all rushed forward, each hugging Lila and offering th
eir congratulations. Quent winked at his bride, wanting her to enjoy this bit of celebration after the last few trying days they’d experienced. And then he left her to the ladies and made his way to where his brother stood by the giant hearth.

  Braden lifted a tumbler of whisky up in a mock toast. “I truly didn’t imagine this would be the result when we headed up to Ravenglass again.”

  Neither had Quent, though he couldn’t be happier for the outcome.

  “I suppose it’s all right that you never found your angel,” his brother whispered.

  Quent’s gaze darted back to Lila across the room. “She’s my angel, Braden, never doubt that.”

  His brother clapped him on the back and smiled. “Much better choice than a figment of your imagination, hmm?”

  “Much better,” Quent agreed, not wanting to reveal that last secret to his brother. Braden was much happier thinking he’d been right all along. Besides, Braden was right. A living, breathing Lila Post was better than a thousand mysterious angels.

  His new wife appeared at his side a moment later, her silvery eyes gazing at him with such adoration Quent’s heart nearly flowed over. “You left me?”

  “Only to the throngs of ladies wanting to gush over you, my lady. I think I was in the way, if Grace’s pointy elbow was any indication.”

  “You could never be in the way,” she replied softly.

  “No, but apparently I am,” Braden muttered and then he excused himself and started for that very same throng of ladies.

  “Father Matthew said he’s cleansing the castle of all its spirits.”

  “Freeing them, he told me,” Quent agreed.

  “It will be so odd not have people refer to this as haunted Marisdùn Castle any longer.”

  “People are superstitious. They’ll probably call this place haunted until the end of time.”

  “Probably right.” She agreed with a nod of her head. “Is that your plan then, Quent? Do you want to stay here in Ravenglass?”

  “I want whatever will make you happy, love.”

  “Ravenglass has always been my home. You wouldn’t find it boring with no ghosts and no Samhain masquerades?”

  He quirked her his most rakish grin. “I’m fairly certain that my wife will keep me entertained no matter where we are.”

  When she blushed, he drew her closer and captured her lips, and that same magical feeling he’d first experienced in her arms washed over him anew. He could drown in that feeling and never come up for air….Except he did have to breathe air. Quent lifted his head slightly and said, “Am I to take it you want to stay, then?”

  “I don’t know what Papa would do with all of us gone. And I do run Mama’s charity. And…”

  “Then welcome home, Lila Post.” He grinned.

  Epilogue

  December 10, 1816 – Marisdùn Castle, Cumberland

  * * *

  The last six weeks had been, with a doubt, the best in Quent’s life. As strange as it was to believe, the castle really had been quiet and calm, the furthest thing from haunted, ever since Father Matthew had blessed the place. It felt lighter as though a fog had been lifted. And even though they’d remained in Ravenglass and his now-father-in-law still wasn’t terribly fond of Quent, Vicar Southward had been quite preoccupied with Sidney Garrick’s courtship of Tilly to pay Quent much attention at all, not even on Sundays, which was a blessing, indeed. But mostly, the best part of Quent’s new life was Lila.

  Just the thought of his angelic wife brought a smile to his face, as he sat there alone in his study, looking over Marisdùn’s ledgers. He’d spent so much time avoiding matrimony that he’d never considered how wonderful his life could be with a wife. Well, of course, how wonderful his life could be with the perfect wife. And Lila was most definitely the most perfect wife. She was kind, intelligent, passionate, beautiful and as in love with Quent as he was with her.

  He glanced down at his pocket fob and noted the time. Four o’clock. She’d just be leaving her Dorcas Society meeting and heading back home. He smiled again and could hardly wait for her walk into the castle so he could wrap her in his arms, press kisses all across her brow and sweep her up into his arms and into their bedchamber. It was, after, all the best possible way to spend any afternoon.

  “This just arrived for you, sir,” Bendle began as he stepped over the threshold into the study, lifting a missive out towards Quent.

  He frowned as he took the letter from the butler and noted the Bradenham crest pressed into the melted wax seal. Braden wasn’t the most frequent letter writer, so the missive was slightly alarming, especially as they’d recently discovered that Callie was expecting their first child. Of course that letter had come from Callie to Lila as Braden, true to form, was a terribly correspondent.

  Anxiety crawling down his spine, Quent dismissed Bendle and then tore the letter open.

  Dear Quentin,

  I do hope that you and Lila are doing well. Callie sends her love and best wishes to both of you. For the most part, she is in good health. Her health will be better when I successfully expunge a certain kitten Patience has brought into Highfield, but that is another matter for another day. In regards to our sisters, I am certain they would send their own love if they knew I was writing to you. However, it is on their behalf that I am writing this letter.

  Good God! Had something happened to one of the triplets?

  I have recently been in communication with our stepmother’s uncle, the Duke of Danby, who does appear to be as crafty as reports of him have previously indicated. Danby has taken special interest in our sisters and their respective futures. He will be sending a summons to our stepmother, demanding her attendance and that of the triplets at Danby Castle in Yorkshire this Christmas. He has assured me that he has Grace, Hope and Patience’s best interest at heart and would like to see each of them settled to decent, respectable men within the next twelve months.

  Within the next twelve months? Damn it all. Did the duke already have candidates for Quent’s sisters already picked out? That seemed hasty. Shouldn’t their sisters enjoy the same opportunity to find true love just as Braden and Quent had done?

  After the scene Hope caused last season, the idea of seeing her settled to a decent and respectable man seems like a dream that may be too good to come true.

  Well, Braden had a point there. And after all the nonsense with Kilworth this past year, it could very well be a miracle for any decent man to look past her reputation. Did Danby really think he could find a decent man for her too?

  However, Danby is certain he can chart a course for each of them and that we will be satisfied with the end results. I do not think it is wise to reject his offer, and if he is as true to his word as I believe him to be, our sisters could not have a better benefactor as Danby is still one of the most powerful men in England.

  Terrifying as many found him, the duke was powerful. That was for certain. Still, it seemed less than sporting to let the old duke select husbands for the triplets even considering Hope’s idioic missteps.

  Our stepmother has yet to receive the duke’s summons, but when she does, I will insist upon the four of them attending Danby this Christmas. In a perfect world, I would travel with them and see to the duke’s plan myself, but in Callie’s delicate condition, I cannot ask her to travel to Yorkshire. The return home from Ravenglass last month was quite miserable for her, and I am certain you would not want her to travel in her condition at this time either.

  As you are much closer to Danby Castle than I am at Highfield, I would ask that you and Lila also celebrate this Christmas in Yorkshire. I do hate to drag you both from Marisdùn during your first Christmas together, but I am certain you will share my concern for our sisters. While I do believe that Danby has their best interests at heart, no one is as devoted to them or loves them as much as you and I.

  It was good Braden hadn’t decided to turn everything over to the duke, Quent supposed. And if they did go to Yorkshire, he’d make certain that no matches wer
e secured without his sisters’ approval. They should have a say in their own futures, after all.

  Please pass on my love to Lila. I do hope the two of you will have a delightful time in Yorkshire this holiday, and with any luck one or more of our sisters will have the happiest of Christmases. God speed and safe travels.

  Your devoted brother,

  Braden

  * * *

  Quent dropped the letter to his desk. Well, that was certainly not what he’d expected to learn when he’d torn open his brother’s letter. And while he would truly like to remain in Marisdùn for his first Christmas with Lila, they would have many more Christmases together in Ravenglass in the years to come. But how was he going to convince his wife to leave her father and sister for Christmas? That was going to be the chall—

  “Bendle said a letter arrived from Highfield,” Lila said from the doorway. Her cheeks were rosy from the chilly outdoor temperatures and her silvery eyes were filled with concern. “Is everything all right? Is Callie—”

  “Callie’s fine,” he assured his wife, pushing out of his chair and navigating his desk to draw her into his arms.

  She fit against him so perfectly, and Quent held her tight. If he lived another hundred years, he would never tire of holding this woman in his arms. She pressed up on her toes and brushed her lips across his and Quent couldn’t help but growl in response. She still heated his blood as much now as she had the day they married and the entire year before that.

  Lila giggled against his lips. “I do love you.”

  “Good thing.” Quent squeezed her a little tighter before releasing her completely. “You’re stuck with me now.”

  She blushed slightly as she grinned up at him. “The only man I ever wanted to be stuck with.”

  Quent grinned back. “Even if that man, hypothetically, wanted to whisk you away to Yorkshire, away from your family for Christmas? Would you still be happy to be stuck with him, then?”