Page 126 of Rogue of My Heart

Passion’s Lasting Promise

A REGENCY CASTLE ROMANCE

AMANDA MARIEL

One

Northumberland, Summer, 1815

* * *

Lady Rebecca Sumerville could scarcely believe her eyes. Her gaze was fixated on the faint flicker of light coming from Almerry Castle, like a beckoning siren, dancing within the slender lancet windows of the second-story entry hall. She couldn’t contain her astonishment and whispered to her twin sister in hushed urgency, “Phoebe, do you see that?”

“See what? And why are you whispering?” Her sister slanted a curious stare at her.

Why indeed? Rebecca hesitated. Perhaps it was the fear that any abrupt sound might scare the mysterious light away that compelled her to whisper. With a reluctant glance away from the castle, she turned her gaze to her sister and said, “Over there,” pointing at Almerry with trembling fingers, “the light.” Her heart sank as she looked back at the castle, now barely visible against the night sky, only to find the mesmerizing glow had inexplicably vanished.

“I see nothing.” Phoebe shook her head, chestnut curls flouncing about her neck and face.

“It was there. I saw it. A flickering glow coming from the lancet windows.” Rebecca turned, her green eyes fixed on Almerry Castle, yearning to witness the elusive flickering glow once more. She frowned, a sudden unease gripped her, and she pressed a trembling hand to her abdomen.

Her family’s Northumberland estate bordered the ancient stone castle on the opposite side of a small creek. In the light of day, the castle’s imposing silhouette was clearly visible from their home. Throughout her life, Rebecca had spent countless hours gazing at the formidable keep, letting her imagination roam free, weaving stories within its ancient walls.

The great keep peeked out from behind high walls, encasing the sandstone structure. She’d snuck over to the castle on more than one occasion, though she’d never entered its walls. Most frequently, she strolled around the outer wall, studying the stone. On some occasions, she’d sat near the postern gate. Each time she laid eyes on Almerry, she created tales in her mind about the castle and its legendary occupants.

According to local lore, no one had lived there for hundreds of years. Not since Sir Ariston Beauchamp and his beloved Lady Isabel Staunton passed away. Rebecca imagined what the couple must have lived like and spun her own stories about their life and love.

Phoebe laced an arm through hers. “Let us return to the party.”

Rebecca smiled at her sister. “Not just yet. I want to watch for the light to return. What do you suppose caused it?”

“I don’t know. Mayhap it was your imagination.” Phoebe tugged on Rebecca’s arm. “Come on, before Mother sends a search party to look for us.”

Rebecca’s chest tightened as she stared back at the castle. Had she imagined the flickering glow? She didn’t think so.

Phoebe tugged again, pulling Rebecca forward. “Please be sensible. Even if you saw a light, it was likely just the moon’s glow. There is nothing to be gained by remaining here. Let us return now.”

She supposed her sister was right. By now, mother had surely noted their absence. Should they dally much longer, they’d earn her scorn. After all, tonight was about them. Mother had gone to great efforts to arrange the house party. She’d invited the most sought-after families along with their bachelor sons, hoping to make a match for at least one of her eligible daughters. She’d have their hides if she took notice of their absence.

“If we must.” Sighing, Rebecca followed Phoebe toward the house. “Though I do find this party rather tedious.”

Phoebe squeezed her elbow. “Come now, it is not all that bad.”

“Perhaps not for you.” Rebecca grinned. “Which gentleman has your fancy?”

“Do not tease me.” Phoebe swatted Rebecca with her fan.

The quartet’s music drifted from the house as they drew closer. Light spilled out onto the lawn, casting the front gardens in a glow. Rebecca reached for Phoebe’s dance card. “Shall we see who awaits you, dear?” She flicked her mischievous hazel gaze over it. “Lord Owens claimed two dances. Might I find you as Lady Owens before the summer quits us?”

Phoebe jerked her wrist away. “Stop jesting. I do not find you at all amusing.”

With their arms hooked together, they reentered the ballroom. Noting the light flush upon her sister’s cheeks, Rebecca stifled a laugh. “Very well, if you insist.”

Phoebe released Rebecca’s arm. “Here he comes now.”

Lord Owens strolled toward them, his eyes sparkling. He did not wear his soldier’s uniform as he had on previous occasions, but a pang of upset raced through Rebecca all the same. How could Phoebe have designs on such a man after what had happened to their brother? “Does it not bother you that he is a soldier, Phoebe?”

“No, and do hush. He might hear you and take offense.”