One More Haunted Evening Read online

  Quent shrugged. “None yet, though I am hoping my sisters will be able to help find her for me.”

  Sidney shook his head. “Why the devil did you tell them about her?”

  “I’ll take all the help I can get,” he replied with a grin. And then, with a slap of his thighs, he leapt from the sofa. “Enough about that, though. We’re going to the ruins for a picnic tomorrow morning. I do hope you will join us, so that I’m not quite so outnumbered by the fairer sex.”

  Sidney quirked an eyebrow. “Surely you can handle your sisters alone.”

  “That depends on the day, but I also invited Lila Southward to join us, which would leave it at four against one if she manages to make it. And that would leave me quite outnumbered. You wouldn’t do that to your old pal, would you?”

  Quent knew it was never a hardship for Sidney to spend time with the ladies. “It will be difficult, but I could never send a soldier into battle alone.”

  The wide, enigmatic smile that the ladies of London loved so much spread Quent’s lips. “Splendid. Meet me for a drink in my study and tell me about your travels?”

  “Bloody hell!” Who was pounding at the door at this time of the morning? “What is it?” Thorn yelled out, not bothering to get out of his bed.

  “Time to go,” Chetwey announced after sticking his head inside the door.

  “Go? At this time of the day?” His friend had gone mad. “The sun’s barely up.” He glanced to the window. “Correct that – it isn’t up yet at all.”

  “Which is why you need to get dressed now. Cook is packing a breakfast and your horse is being saddled.”

  “You’re kicking me out?”

  “Of course not.” Chetwey laughed. “Brighid is.”

  “Not for good,” she called from the other side of the door, not that David could see her, which was just as well since he was lying in his bed naked with the covers down to his waist. “You can come back later, but you must leave now,” she assured him.

  “Why? And, where am I to go?”

  “The coast!”

  “It will be there later, I assure you. It hasn’t moved in centuries,” David answered as he fell back against his pillows. Those two were more disturbing than the ghosts at Marisdùn. At least the spirits never woke him at the break of dawn.

  “You must go now!” Brighid ordered and David pulled himself up, resting on his elbows.

  “Why?”

  There was whispering on the other side of the door, but he couldn’t make out what the husband and wife were saying. “A premonition,” Brighid finally called out.

  “Premonition? Your wife has premonitions, Chetwey?”

  His friend stepped back inside the door and just shrugged.

  “So, what did this presentiment reveal?” He couldn’t believe he was actually having this conversation. Those two belonged in Bedlam.

  “You might possibly find a certain person there.” Brighid’s voice sang out from the hall.

  His heart stopped, just for a moment. “My artist?”

  “Possibly,” Brighid hedged.

  Possibly was a hell of a lot closer than what he had yesterday. “Fine. I’ll be out in a moment.”

  David wasted no time getting out of bed and dressed, and paused only long enough to look into the mirror. Should he shave first? What if she was there? He should look his best. But, if he dallied, he might miss her.

  Why would she be at the coast this early?

  His golden-haired fairy should be snuggled in slumber, not out by the sea at this ungodly hour. But, if Brighid, a witch, believed she’d be there, who was he to question her?

  Instead of shaving, David pulled a comb through his hair and headed out of his room. Brighid and Chetwey were waiting for him in the foyer. Both still in robes, as if they had every intention of returning to bed after he departed. If he didn’t hope to find his artist, David would return to his, but he wasn’t about to ignore the witch’s premonition.

  Brighid held out a basket to him with a grin on her face. “There’s enough for two.”

  “Two?” Did she expect them to enjoy a breakfast picnic along the shore?

  “Of course. You wouldn’t want to not share.”

  “Thank you,” he grumbled under his breath as he took it from her. He’d enjoyed many picnic lunches with desirable young ladies, which usually ended quite pleasantly, but never a breakfast. If he’d ever shared a breakfast with a woman, it was because they woke in the same bed after a very enjoyable night, and they partook of the meal while still beneath the covers. “By chance did your premonition reveal where I might find her?”

  Brighid grimaced. “No. Just the water, beach, near an outcropping of rocks.”

  He nodded. That could be any portion of the miles long coast. But he’d search every inch of it if there was a chance he’d find his sketching fairy.

  “I know, Freyja,” Thorn patted his mare’s neck. “You’re anxious to run and so am I.” He glanced about, looking toward the sea. Until a short time ago, it was too dark to see in the blackness of the waning night. David had been riding carefully, and slowly, not willing to risk injury to his mare on the unfamiliar road. But now the sun was finally starting to rise and the sky was beginning to lighten.

  Freyja could barely contain her energy. A racehorse at heart, but without the necessary speed to win a race. Her bloodlines, on the other hand, had rung true and Freyja’s son won him more than one purse this past fall. “What do you say, girl. Shall we race?”

  The mare tossed her head in answer and David leaned forward, loosening his tight hold, and let her go. With little encouragement, she took off at full speed, down the road, taking him further away from Torrington Abbey. Her hooves pounded the road, kicking up dirt in her wake and David couldn’t help but grin. He hadn’t ridden like this in a few weeks. It hadn’t been possible with all the travel, and when he was on an open road, there were other conveyances about too. This early in the morning, it was just Freyja and him.

  Giving Freyja free reign, he let her go until she decided to slow, growing tired from the exertion, and then David straightened in his saddle and looked around. They were miles down the coast, and this promised to be a brilliant day, especially if Brighid’s predictions came true. But, before he looked for his fairy, he needed to rest his horse. After spotting a clump of trees a bit up the road, he led Freyja toward it. With this much greenery there must be a fresh water source close. It didn’t take him long and soon he found a gentle stream that led toward the sea. He led Freyja forward and allowed her to drink her fill, then rest before continuing on his search.

  Taking her reigns in his gloved hands again, David led the mare back to the road and then toward the sea. Brighid had said beach and as the tide was going out, he decided it was better to ride along the water’s edge instead of trying to see down from the road since it often curved away from the sea.

  Slowly they picked their way down the jagged rocks until reaching sand and then he and Freyja turned back in the direction towards Torrington and the two rode along the beach as he searched the area for a golden haired fairy.

  “I’m beginning to believe the little witch’s premonition wasn’t accurate,” Thorn said as he patted Freyja’s neck after they’d covered half the distance they’d originally traveled. Though Brighid couldn’t exactly be considered little at the moment, not that he’d ever say such a thing to Chetwey or his wife. She was a witch, after all.

  The mare tossed her head and neighed as if in agreement.

  Though disappointment was beginning to settle around him, David couldn’t be upset about his early morning ride. It’d been pleasant to be out in the cool, early morning, practically alone in the world with his mare. The only life around him were the bird’s chirping and the few fishing boats that dotted the horizon. Peaceful.

  An outcropping of rocks jutted into the water just up ahead, with barely enough room to ride his horse around. Jumping from Freyja’s back, Thorn took her reigns and led her through the s
hallow water and around the stone to the beach. He studied the area and wondered if maybe he shouldn’t have taken the road instead. What if he missed her from being down here?

  After letting go of the reigns and hooking them around the saddle, confident Freyja would not run off, Thorn climbed the rocks until he stood atop a boulder. More waves were coming in and Freyja wandered further onto the sand. Shielding his eyes against the glare of the rising sun on the sea, David turned slowly, and halted.

  There she was. His fairy, minus the gossamer wings, wearing a pale muslin dress. Her golden curls danced on the wind and she was seated in tall grass in front of an easel, staring out at the sea.

  The wind picked up and his artist pushed the hair from her face.

  Just as he turned to get down from the rocks so that he could go to her, a wave crashed into it, soaking his legs and making the stone slippery as ice. And before he could find his footing, Thorn tumbled into the sea.

  “Was that a horse?” Anna was certain she heard the whinny of a horse and glanced behind her, but nobody was on the road. Then she looked to the beach. Sure enough, a lovely brown mare was standing there, saddled and nosing about the few grasses growing along the rocks.

  “Where on earth did you come from?” she asked, even though it was impossible for the horse to hear her from there, let alone answer.

  She put her paints aside and stood, stepping away from the log that had been her seat and started for the beach only to be brought up short as a man emerged from the sea. “Goodness.” Surely he didn’t decide to take a swim fully clothed. Had his horse thrown him?

  All she could see of him was a dark head of wet hair because he was looking down as he tore the jacket and waistcoat away from this body before tossing them onto the dry sand. Her heart stilled and the breath caught in her throat at the sight of the white shirt plastered to his chest and arms.

  Never had she seen such a sight. At least not in the near flesh. The contours of his muscles, the way they moved beneath the linen, was more than she could ever imagine from the stone statues she had viewed once upon a time.

  Surely not all men were built so gloriously, and if they were, then someone needed to redefine fashion so such visions were not shielded from the appreciation of women such as herself.

  Oh, this was so improper. There was a very good reason women and men dressed as they did. It was to safeguard them from sin, such as those of the flesh that her uncle liked to preach about. And Anna could clearly see why. Even though the morning was still cool, she was warm. Very warm indeed and she fought the urge to loosen the buttons at her throat and perhaps free a few more above her breast so that she could breathe normally again.

  Her cheeks heated with embarrassment. A virtuous woman would turn her back or at least hide her eyes. And even though Anna’s virtue was certainly not in question, she was also an artist and extremely curious.

  The man shook his arms and head, droplets of water flying in every direction and then he looked up. Anna’s heart stopped before her pulse started pounding. It was him. He was back.

  When his eyes locked with hers everything stopped. The sea behind him faded away, as did the sound of the birds that had filled her ears before. He stood there, looking at her, and she could not tear her eyes away from him.

  A strong wind whipped her hair in front of Anna’s face and she quickly swiped it away, afraid that when she looked again, he’d be gone. But he wasn’t. He was moving toward her.

  Waves crashed in the distance, reminding her where they were and the awareness of the wind awakened her from the state she’d been in only a few moments before. Grabbing the blanket she had brought with her, Anna raced toward the beach.

  David ignored the cold wind – which wasn’t nearly as cool before he’d been tossed in the sea – and strode toward the woman. He kept her in his sights, not about to let her get away from him a second time. She might be the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. Powerful and glorious, standing upon the hill, her golden hair flying on the wind that pushed the light muslin dress against her body, outlining each lush curve. When she bent to grab something, he feared she was about to run off. Instead, she lifted what looked to be a blanket and then hurried toward him.

  She didn’t have a direct path to the beach, so David met her at the edge of the outcropping then placed his hands about her waist, sinking his fingers into her softness as he lifted her down to the sand.

  “Are you quite all right?” Her green eyes filled with concern.

  “Very well, indeed.” Better than he’d been in a very long time despite the fact that his boots and clothing were now completely ruined and he was probably going to freeze his arse off before he made it back to Torrington Abbey. Not that any of that mattered now that he’d found his fairy.

  “Here, wrap this around you.” She held out the blanket.

  That’s not what David wanted. Her arms, on the other hand, would warm him quite nicely. “I don’t wish to ruin your blanket.”

  “And I don’t wish you to catch your death.”

  Neither did he actually. “A fire.”

  “Yes, we need a fire.” She turned, looking about. “I believe there is some wood near where I was sitting.”

  “I’ll gather it,” David insisted. He jumped up onto the small ledge and began walking to where she’d been sitting. The wind was colder up here, but soon he’d be back at the beach, in the curve of the cliff and enjoying a cold breakfast with the young woman. If she didn’t run off first.

  He hurried and collected every piece of wood he could find until he couldn’t carry anymore and then tossed them down to the beach before returning for more. Though he didn’t plan on making a large fire, he certainly wanted enough wood to keep it burning for as long as she remained.

  By the time he returned with a second armful, his fairy had already arranged them in a small triangular stack and was stuffing dried grasses beneath the broken limbs. “Do you have a flint?” she called up.

  “In my saddle bags,” Thorn answered as he jumped back to the beach, his sodden boots sinking into the thick sand.

  While his artist went about stacking the rest of the wood away from the future fire, David trudged over to his horse and retrieved the packet. Without being asked, she came up behind him and held her skirts out to block the wind until he was able to get the dried grasses to catch. Soon, flames licked at the wood.

  David dusted off his hands and stood. “Perhaps now would be a good time to introduce ourselves.” He grinned. “Mr. David Thorn, at your service,” he said with a bow.

  Why did she gasp at his name? Surely his reputation hadn’t reached this far north. Not in this village. He’d only been here once and had behaved himself for the most part. Well, except for that first night when he, Garrick, and Quentin had gotten foxed in town, and he had ended up walking on his hands in a pub, causing a stir, but no women were ruined or even involved.

  “Your name is truly David?”

  He’d had many reactions to his name, but that was usually when they heard Thorn. Nobody had ever said David with such awe. “Yes. Might I have yours?”

  “Anna. Anna Southward.”

  “It is my greatest pleasure to finally meet you, Miss Anna Southward. By chance have you breakfasted yet?”

  Her green eyes widened with confusion before she blinked at him. “Breakfasted?”

  “Yes, breakfasted. I had it on the greatest authority that you might be somewhere around here this morning and given the hour, I thought sustenance would be in order.” She didn’t need to know that the picnic wasn’t exactly his idea.

  This time she frowned at him. “Who told you I’d be here?”

  “Ah, I cannot reveal my secrets, but a certain young woman had a premonition that I might just find you here.”

  “Premonition?”

  He dearly hoped she wasn’t going to repeat everything he said, although she did seem rather confused. Goodness, his fairy wasn’t simple, was she? He couldn’t think of anything t
hat could be more distressing. “Her words, not mine.”

  Anna took a step back and narrowed her green eyes on him. “By chance have you recently visited Mr. Chetwey and his wife?”

  “Ah, you have guessed the visionary that has led me to you.”

  “Brighid may be many things, but visionary is not one of them.”

  Ah, so she didn’t know, or possibly didn’t believe Chetwey’s wife was a witch. David decided to keep that bit of information to himself.

  “I mentioned to her yesterday that I would be here,” she added.

  So the witch and her husband lied to him. All that nonsense about premonitions, sending him from the house before the sun was up when she knew before they even dined last night where Miss Southward would be this morning, and he’d fallen for it. As much as he’d like to be angry with his friends, it was impossible because he had, finally, found the one he sought.

  If Brighid were here, right now, Anna was certain she’d hug her dear friend. How had she guessed that it had been David Thorn who had sat for her last year? Anna hadn’t known his name or even met him. Had Mr. Thorn said something to Brighid or Chetwey? If so, why hadn’t she told her? If not, why would Thorn ride out, this early in the morning, simply because Brighid told him to do so?

  Several questions rumbled around in her mind, but she didn’t dare question her good fortune.

  Not that any of that mattered right now, because here they both were, quite secluded and she could study him without anyone knowing. It was a shame he’d fallen into the water, and she truly hoped he didn’t become ill from it, but she was thrilled as well. When else would she get a chance to study the male form?

  The linen was wet and clinging to his body, outlining each ridge and line of every muscle in his arms, chest, stomach and back. Goodness he was finer than any statue she’d ever seen.

  And, his name was David. It was as if fate had set him in her path, twice, and she was not going to run away a second time. “Would you please excuse me?”