Married By Midnight (8 page)

Peace
. It was something Garrett could not even begin to fathom, for his head was swimming in regret for his own actions in Greece, not so much those of his father’s years ago.

“
Thank you, Doctor. You’ve been very helpful—a voice of reason in all this madness.”

Dr. Thomas regarded him with understanding, and something about the man struck a chord in Garrett—something strangely familiar. He inclined his head. “Pardon me for asking, but have we met before?”

The doctor stared at him for another thoughtful moment, then a smile reached his eyes. “As a matter of fact we have. You would have been too young to remember, but I treated you when you were a small child.”

“
What was wrong with me?”

The doctor’s brow creased, as if he were struggling to describe the illness. “It was nothing out of the ordinary. Just a fever, but your mother feared it might be serious. She was very concerned.”

“
How old was I?”

“
You were four.” Dr. Thomas looked down at the fire.

“
I see. Well.” Garrett stood up. “Thank you again, Doctor.”

Dr. Thomas stood up as well. “I am happy to be of service. If there is anything else I can do for you, do not hesitate to contact me at any time.” He handed Garrett his card. “I promise complete discretion.”

Garrett looked down at the card and was thankful to have it. He admired this doctor, and trusted him. Perhaps he would be helpful in other ways, for Garrett often felt he had no one to talk to or confide in—especially since the accident.

He was still surprised he had confessed it to Lady Anne... Perhaps because she, like the doctor, was an outsider.

As Garrett walked out of the library he contemplated why it was easier to confess things to strangers. He supposed one could say what one wanted to say, and then never have to confront the issue again—for that person would be gone from one’s life.

Lady Anne...

Would he really never see her again after they spoke their wedding vows? Something inside him already regretted that, and wished it did not have to be so—but still, he did not want a wife. That is not why he came home.

* * *

The duke and duchess placed their glasses on the silver tray and said their good nights. For a few minutes after they left the drawing room, conversations were quiet. With the help of a bottle it soon picked up again.

“
I do not know what to believe,” Anne said with laughter as she held out her glass for more of the finest brandy she’d ever tasted. “Charlotte assures me that the palace is haunted and the ghosts are a wild bunch of rogues, but you men say otherwise.”

Charlotte, who was seated beside Anne on the sofa, also raised her glass to allow Blake to pour more from the sparkling crystal decanter. “Our ghosts are most definitely a terrible band of scoundrels. I have not set foot in the catacombs for years. Why...I still have nightmares about those wretched howls, and the dark enclosed spaces that seemed to go on forever with no way out. Many times I thought I’d met my maker down there.”

Anne decided to play along. She regarded the men with horrified umbrage but spoke sympathetically to Charlotte. “How dare they presume you were imagining it? I think there is something to these legends. Is it not true that a monk was murdered here?”

Garrett sat down beside her and casually lounged back on the sofa. “Be careful, darling, you are dredging up the shocking details of our family’s dark history. We have wicked beginnings, and in fact, ghosts are not at all out of the question. Perhaps we are all better off not knowing the truth.”

Darling?
The teasing in his voice sent flames of excitement shooting into her veins. She could not help but turn her body in his direction. He was sitting very close and she could feel the thrilling challenge in his blue eyes.

She spoke flirtatiously. “You should know better than anyone that I am not the sort of woman who hides from the truth, no matter how shocking or scandalous. Therefore, I challenge you to prove whether or not there are ghosts, otherwise I’ll likely believe it was just you and your wicked brothers taunting your poor sister all those years ago.”

She became aware, suddenly, of the others in the room who were staring at them in silence. Anne looked up at them.

Rebecca smiled. “Count me in. I wish to join you in the challenge.” She turned to face Devon. “Darling, you have never once taken me into the underground. Your father has gone to bed. Now is the perfect time.”

Devon tipped his brandy back and swallowed the contents in one gulp. “Very well, then. If you ladies are brave enough to venture into the deepest guts of this house, how could we not oblige your curiosities?” He turned to Blake and Garrett. “What do you both say? Should we shield them from the otherworldly forces by remaining here in the drawing room, or escort them into the fray and act as their protectors?”

“
I say we escort them into the fray,” Blake replied, “though I doubt any of them will require our protection. They all seem rather confident.”

Charlotte stood up. “My sisters-in-law and soon-to-be sister-in-law do not yet understand what they will be facing when we venture below ground. I think perhaps we should bring that decanter of wine.”

Devon immediately picked it up by the neck. “I have it. What else shall we take with us? Think carefully now, in case we do not return for a time.”

“
What exactly constitutes a time?” Anne asked playfully as she stood up. “Should I bring a change of clothes?”

Garrett moved to pick up a small candelabra. “I do not believe that will be necessary, for you shall have very capable protectors at your side. We shall all emerge unscathed; I am almost certain of it.”

“
Almost
certain?” Anne chuckled as she followed him out of the drawing room. “Perhaps this is too great a risk and we should all behave like sensible adults and go straight to bed.”

“
And let them continue to think I never really heard those ghostly howls all those years ago?” Charlotte argued. “No, I think not. I require witnesses to prove I was not a silly little girl with an overactive imagination. Anne, you believe me, don’t you?”

“
Of course I do,” she replied, linking her arm through Charlotte’s and realizing she had not had this much fun in a great many years.

Charlotte picked up a second candelabra from the side table by the door and carried it into the corridor. Together they moved quietly and stealthily to the staircase and descended to the main floor.

“
Perhaps we should be doing this in the daylight,” Rebecca nervously suggested.

“
Then we wouldn’t see any ghosts,” Charlotte replied, “because they only come out at night. At least that is what Father claims.”

Anne, Charlotte, and Rebecca all joined hands to follow the men to the rear door that led out to the old cloister. “We will have to go outside for a moment to cross to the chapel,” Devon explained. “It will be cold. Are you ladies prepared?”

“
What if the chapel door is locked?” Anne asked.

“
It’s never locked,” Devon explained. “It was always one of Father’s strictest rules for as long as I can remember. Prepare yourself. There is a frigid wind tonight.” He opened the palace door and the candles flickered wildly as the group dashed outside onto the icy ground of the cloister and ran laughing to the chapel. Garrett was the first to reach the door and he held it open for all of them.

Once inside, they each took a moment to recover from the biting wind on their cheeks.

Anne could not ignore the fact that it was the first time she had set foot in a place of worship since her very public fall from grace.

She glanced uneasily at the others who were smiling and laughing, then looked up at the high arched ceiling and felt a wonderful rush of joy to be there without being judged a harlot.

She closed her eyes and took a few deep cleansing breaths, then opened them and looked around.

It was a small, private chapel that would seat fifty people at most, but it was an inviting space with fine oak paneling and tapestries behind the choir stalls. She slowly made her way up the center aisle, running her fingers over the backs of each empty pew.

A stained glass window provided an ornate backdrop for the altar, but she could not make out the colors or details in the glass for there were only a few candles to light the way.

“
What a lovely place,” she said, deciding to return at some point to see it in full light. She would be married here after all. It was an almost inconceivable notion.

“
I haven’t been here in years,” Garrett said. “It seems smaller than I remember.”

She watched his eyes settle upon the white statue of the Virgin Mary at the base of the arched window and wondered what he was thinking as he held the candelabra high over his head.

Meanwhile Devon had already found a secret door behind the pulpit. He unlocked it with a key that was stored beneath a loose stone in the floor.

“
I wasn’t sure if the key would still be here,” he said, handing it to Garrett who slipped it into his pocket. “Are you ready ladies?” Devon asked. “If you’re frightened, it is not too late to change your minds.”

“
Frightened?” Charlotte replied, aghast. She was the first to join him at the door. “We most certainly are not. In fact, I will go first.”

Anne and Rebecca followed, but Anne stopped suddenly when she peered into the darkness. “Oh, my. I didn’t imagine anything quite like this.”

A steep set of stone stairs led down to the underground tunnels beneath the chapel, but it was pitch black beyond the meagre light provided by their candles. A dank, musty smell reached her nostrils and her heart began to race at the prospect of venturing into those dark unknown depths.

“
Perhaps it
would
be better to do this during daylight hours?” she found herself suggesting, just as Rebecca had earlier.

“
It wouldn’t make any difference,” Charlotte replied. “It’s just as dark down there during the day.”

None of them said a word.

“
Where do the tunnels lead?” Rebecca asked.

Devon slid an arm around Rebecca’s waist. “The corridors twist and turn, and fork off in different directions. It’s rather like a maze down there, but there are only two ways out, as far as we know. Here in the chapel, and another door a few hundred yards away in a thick grove of junipers.”

“
We couldn’t possibly return that way.” Rebecca said. “It’s too cold outside and we’re not dressed for it.”

“
We will retrace our steps back to this door,” Devon replied.

Charlotte turned to explain more to Anne. “Some say the corridor was dug out by the canon who wished to sneak out to meet his lover in the village.”

“That’s devotion by any standard,” she replied. “Imagine how long it took him to tunnel such a distance.”

“
That’s just a romantic legend,” Garrett said. “The passages have been here since ancient times, probably as an escape against invading Vikings or Norman conquerors. Though I don’t doubt the canon used it to meet his paramour. How else could he have managed the affair without anyone learning of it until the woman gave birth to a child?”

Again they fell silent as they stared down the steep steps and Anne contemplated the lengths the canon had gone to in order to be with the woman he loved.

“
Shall we march on?” Charlotte asked. “I am brave enough if the rest of you are.”

That was a challenge none could refuse. Anne nodded gamely at her future sister-in-law, and together they led the way.

The deeper they went, the chillier and damper it became.

“
What’s that smell?” Rebecca asked. “It’s rather disgusting.”

“
It’s just your husband,” Garrett whispered, and laughed as Devon shoved him into the wall of the stairs.

When at last they reached the bottom, Charlotte held up her candle. “The passageway goes straight for some distance, then it forks to the left and right. Shall we proceed?”

Anne winced as a cold drop of water went plop on her forehead. There were a number of shallow puddles at her feet, but at least they weren’t frozen solid.