Return to Rhonan (2 page)

‘That’s a bit eerie.
It’s the stuff of Gothic Romance – tragic.”

Nathan interrupted, ‘It’s bloody tragic for you too.  You’ve inherited all this, and it could be taken away – just like that.’  He turned his head to Pevensey.’ What if my brother did the renovations? What then?’

‘Oh it would still revert to the true heir. You may be able to claim some of the money back for the time and effort spent on the work done, but I can’t really advise.’

Nathan swung around to
Douglas,
who sat silently his eyes narrowed, brows almost meeting. ‘What are you going to do?’

‘I just can’t walk away can I?’

CHAPTER 2

The young woman leapt up through the surface of the lake, a nymph among water lilies, her hair, scarlet threads, weaving over white skin. As she turned to him, the sun splashed light into her green eyes. With an impish smile, she called out, ‘Come in
Duncan; I
dare you.’

He rose to her taunts shucking off slim fitting pantaloons.  His strong strokes brought him swiftly to her.  Instantly, she dived down disappearing among the reeds, feet kicking, her white chemise billowing.   Pushing away the green fronds snaking around his arms and legs, he grasped the girl’s ankle, pulling her to him.  Bubbles escaped from her lips, as she turned, lithe as an eel, her legs clinging to him, kissing his chest, his mouth. Then, rising like an arrow in flight, she shot up into the light sparkling through pale green water.

Reaching the shallows, he hefted her up into his arms carrying her to the grassy bank.  Teasingly, she bit his ear, pulling at his black hair, wet and glossy on his shoulders as, he lay her down gently on the blanket, throwing himself beside her.  Stroking away the scarlet strands from her face he said, ‘Such beauty and all mine.’

Nuzzling her throat, he found her lips, her tongue.  Responding she pushed into his body, curves flowing into angles.  His mouth found the buds of her nipples hardening, as her body arched to his kisses, his tongue following the line of her quivering muscles. 
Gently,
Duncan massaged the calves of her legs, feeling her tense as he reached the top of her inner thigh.  Lowering his head, he felt her fingers pull gently at his hair as his mouth teasingly flitted over the sweet triangle of red curls, the inner folds, soft as velvet.  Groaning, she lifted her body towards him, her hands now clutching his back, nails digging into his flesh, urging him on.  His heart hammered as her long legs wrapped around his buttocks pushing him closer to her.  Raising himself up to kiss her, his tongue flicked inside her cheek as he penetrated.  Hearing her gasp, feeling her shudder, he pushed deeper. Time ceased to exist in a rhythm beyond words or sound. Light melted into an exquisite darkness as ecstasy took them over the edge.     

Pulling away, Muriall lifted herself onto her elbow to stroke his
hair.
He was gorgeous, looking more rake than
a gentleman. 
However, she knew he was faithful to her.  She fell in love with him when she was all of two years old, a foundling brought into the household. 

Looking up into those emerald eyes he said, ‘You seduce me with a look. I swear you’re a Siren.’

‘I am not.  I am all woman – tis a human heart beats in here.’

‘A lovechild no less
,
and love is what you were made for.’

Muriall’s eyes clouded.  ‘Do not jest with me Duncan. Tis no joke. I will never know—’

‘My darling, I am so
sorry; I
would cut my tongue out if it hurts you. Here take the riding crop, whip me.’

Muriall wiped her eyes, a smile tugging at the mouth. ‘It still hurts me Duncan.  I just wish I had known my birth mother. I long to—‘

He stopped her words with a tender kiss. Reaching for her, he held her close, kissing the slender neck, nipping at her ears until she squealed.  He found her mouth, tasting the honey sweetness, smelling the lavender, her favourite flower. Flipping her over, he held himself up by muscled arms, gazing down at her pert rounded breasts, at the rosy aureoles of her nipples. 

Laughing she touched his lip with her finger. ‘Have you not had enough my Lord.’

Groaning, he rolled onto his side and lifting himself up on his elbow, played with the tendrils of red hair.   

Hearing a cluster of birds flutter from the nearby tree, Muriall turned away to see a man watching from the trees.  The sun glinted on the dark blonde hair; his foppish face held a scowl whilst his hand clutched the scabbard of his short sword.  Muriall’s eyes narrowed; it was Maximillian, damn rakehell. How long had he been there?  Seeing the hatred in his eyes, she knew he would run Duncan through with his sword if he could, even though he was his brother. She bared her teeth at him, willing him to retreat. Smirking he raised a hand in greeting, before turning on his heel, disappearing noiselessly through the trees.

Her heart
lurched; Maximillian
lived only for his cups, horses and the turn of a card; a despoiler of young women, he was without scruples.

‘Dammit, Max was watching. He knows we are lovers – I dread to think what he will do.’

Rising to his feet, Duncan stood, hands on hips ‘Then I must needs seek him out and deal with it.’

’But say he informs the Earl? I would be banished – ruined – cast out.’

‘Never, whilst I live.  Worry not my sweet this will be sorted.  If he informs the Earl, then I shall be forced to call him out.’

No, you can’t do that. He’s evil – a Satanist – he’d raise some demon—’

‘
S
urely you do not believe in such nonsense?

Irritated, Muriall punched him lightly.
‘You’ve heard the rumours, animals missing, ghostly lights
– howling
in the ruins at night, talk of sacrifices.’

‘
Now you are joking.’

‘How about the girls who are missing? You can’t
argue with that?’

‘What Jenny
B
arber
?
  You know what she’s like
.
Many a
pair of pantaloons has
dropped for her. And as for
Alfreda – need we go into that?’

‘So just because they are women of ill-repute you do not question their disappearance? For all you know they may be stretched across some altar
right now, being raped
or eaten alive by some demon.’

‘Now you are getting dramatic.  They are most probably in some buck’s bed as we talk.’

‘Please Duncan – listen to me – don’t call him out – don’t fight him.  We must think of another way.
Why, oh why does he hate us so?’

‘He’s jealous – always lusted after you.  Not only does he want my inheritance – he wants you. Telling my father is a way of getting both.’

‘He knows I have nothing but contempt for him. I despise his very presence.’

  Muriall scowled, trying to rise to her feet. ‘
I fail to see why any wom
a
n would want him.’

‘Aye, a scoundrel but few marry for love, my sweet.   One has a duty to carry on the title and ensure the estate.’

Her eyes grew pensive as she said, ‘The Earl looks upon me as his daughter
even t
h
ough I am his ward,
but I fear his wrath should he ever find out.’

‘He is in his dotage. He leaves the running of the estates to me. Maximillian does not stir from his bed until noon, and would gamble the whole estate away if he could.’

‘D’you think you can persuade the Earl to spare the farmers? Tis a dreadful business Duncan. Already the sea folk are beginning to starve. Droves of people are
being driven
to the coast from the other estates.  Now the seas are over fished and the seaweed scarce.’

‘I will damn well try.
There is a meeting with the other estate owners tomorrow night
.
Maybe we can find a way to stop the evictions.’

‘So who will be present at the meeting?’

‘So far, tis the Duke of Glennard, the Marquis de Mendane and Viscount Fletcher.’

Surely, they can do something to stop this treachery, this misery?’

‘
The Duke yes, but the others
don’t have the tenants’ rights at heart. Like Max, all they care about are horses, cards, and mistresses.
’
 

‘I just wish I could attend the meeting – it’s so unjust Duncan.  Women are treated like pets to be fondled and fed.’

‘Not you my love, you have claws.’

CHAPTER
3

Douglas felt his stomach tighten as they neared Rhonan Town.  Six million pounds was serious money but would it cover the cost of renovation?

Nathan broke through his thoughts.  ‘Cheer up.  You’re Lord of all you survey and a multi-millionaire.’ 

‘Yeah, but the Manor’s in a hell of a state.  Pevensey said the surveyors estimate it’s going to cost at least two million to renovate it. Make a good hotel. We’ll have to live in a caravan though.’    

‘We?’

Douglas looked over smiling. ‘Yeah – you and me.  Partners – we share everything. I’m going to draw up papers so that your name is on everything.   What about it?’

Nathan whooped
,
throwing a fist in the air.  ‘Yeah – I could kiss you Bro.’

‘Don’t – don’t even try.’ 

Rhonan was a Regency town, with broad streets and wide pavements.  The shops huddled together behind mullioned windows and arched wooden doorways.  Jars of brightly coloured sweets beckoned, alongside the tempting smell of freshly baked bread and pastries.  Wooden mannequins stared with painted eyes beside leather saddles, riding hats and whips.

‘There’s the sign over there.’  Nathan pointed to a sign indicating Rhonan Manor was the third turning to the right at the roundabout.

Douglas swallowed
,
as he looked up at the entrance to the estate, consisting of three Gothic arches, complete with gargoyles.  The ornate wrought iron gates covered in ivy listed to one side. 

Rhododendrons hung precariously over the drive, whilst hydrangeas flowered in wild abundance.  Douglas strove to avoid the wreckage, stopping to gaze at the purple splendour of copper beech trees contrasting with the bright yellow of larch.

Nathan whispered, ‘
L
ook over there, the castle.’

Douglas muttered, ‘Well it’s certainly a ruin.  I can’t see us doing that up for a few years.  But, it will be a good draw.’
He slowed down as they caught sight of the M
anor
sparkling white, rising from a hill before them.

Nathan pointed to the lake,
‘
Look there’s the island - must be over forty metres wide.
’
 

Douglas muttered, ’Pevensey was
right; it
is Palladian style, late eighteenth century. It has a lot of history here.  It will draw people in as well as the castle.’

***

On the first floor of the Manor, dust motes spiralled slowly around the translucent form of a young woman, a few clumps of scarlet hair clinging to a putrefying scalp.  Her hand lifted the ragged edge of the curtain, the light shining through flesh hanging in mouldering strips from delicate bones.

Douglas’s heart sank
,
as he saw the crumbling pillared front stone porch, the colonnade of columns lining the terraces and portico, chipped and cracked.   He said, ‘Some of the windows are open to the elements. God knows what it’s like inside.’ 

Nathan glanced up at the second window on the left on the first floor. ‘Did you see that flash of red?  Looks like someone moving up there – look there on the first floor?’

Douglas squinted. ‘No – nothing there.  Must have been the light catching the glass, or what’s left of it.’

‘Huh, might be the ghost of Muriall.’

‘A ghost is the least of our worries.  This is a damn ruin let alone the castle.’  He caught his breath, as they stepped into the central hall, although again sadly in need of repair. It must have been magnificent, as it soared up the whole height of the Manor into a cupola with pillars decorated in trompe l'oeil.  Far above them, the figure moved to the door listening, softly sighing, ‘Stay....’

Looking up Nathan whispered, ‘Did you hear that?  D’you think it’s her?’

Douglas grinned, ‘You’d love it wouldn’t you?  But, sorry Bro’ it’s the wind. It’s a big old draughty place. Honestly, that imagination of yours.’

As Nathan pushed the door open
walking
into what appeared to be a sitting room, at least sixty feet long by thirty feet wide, he was unaware of a woman’s skeletal hand
on his shoulder.
‘Wow this would make a fantastic restaurant.’