The Ghost of Castle Ravenswych by Charlotte Louise Dolan

Author:Charlotte Louise Dolan [Dolan, Charlotte Louise]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Regency Romance Novella
Publisher: Belgrave House
Published: 1992-07-14T16:00:00+00:00

Epilogue

The hour was late, the guests had all gone home, and the study was quiet at last. Sitting there on Marcus’s lap in front of a crackling fire, Rowena was so comfortable she saw no need to move.

Although the celebration afterward had lasted for hours, with toast after toast drunk in honor of the Lord of Castle Ravenswych and his new Lady, the wedding itself had been quick—a matter of driving to Newcastle for a license, and then exchanging their vows in the parish church.

To be sure, it had taken a week of loving before either of them had been willing to leave his bed, which was now definitely their bed, but none of their guests had known that interesting little detail.

Drowsily, Rowena watched the flickering flames dancing in front of her. Never the same, the images formed and reformed themselves.

Out of the corner of her eye she noticed Uncle Timothy sitting beside her in his chair, and she felt an overwhelming contentment with life.

Uncle Timothy?

Turning her head, she stared at his chair, which of course was empty.

“What’s wrong?” Marcus murmured sleepily, his arms tightening around her.

“I must have been dreaming,” she said. “I was looking at the fire, and out of the corner of my eye I saw—I mean I thought I saw—Uncle Timothy sitting in his chair.”

Feeling a twinge of regret that it had all been a fantasy, she turned her head back and stared once more at the fire.

Once again she was positive she could see Uncle Timothy out of the corner of her eye. Jerking around to see, she was disappointed anew.

“If you are going to keep fidgeting, you will have to find another place to sit,” Marcus said, making no move to release her.

“Marcus,” she whispered, “it is so very odd—every time I stare at the flames, I can see Uncle Timothy out of the corner of my eye, but when I turn my head, he is not there.”

Marcus shifted position slightly, and then gave a low whistle. “I can see him, too. Good lord, there is a ghost here in the castle after all.”

“What do you suppose he wants?” Rowena whispered, and then the words came into her mind as if she were actually hearing them.

I want to apologize, dearest child, for having made such a terrible mistake—for having so misjudged Hewley’s character. Will you forgive me?’’

“Of course I forgive you, Uncle,” she said, not feeling the least bit ridiculous talking to a ghost.

I did the best I could to rectify my error.

Vivid images filled Rowena’s mind—an image of Hewley’s sash coming untied while he was chasing her down the hill, an image of Marcus’s candle being blown out when he discovered her in the music room, an image of a bramble bush reaching out to catch her cloak.

With a smile, she related it all to Marcus. “Did Uncle Timothy speak to you, too?” she asked.

To her surprise, Marcus looked somewhat abashed.

“Well, did he?” she said, wondering if Uncle Timothy had decided to play the role of heavy-handed chaperone.

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