Page 3 of An Enchanted Knight

Setting her journal aside, she scanned the room, but her mind was elsewhere—on the impossible, and the hauntingly familiar face of a man who shouldn't exist.

Her host’s words repeated over and over in her mind.

Did the woman truly believe her ancestor to be alive? Was Edith convinced that he’d survived more than three hundred years trapped in a supposed enchantment?

The assignment could prove to be more difficult than she expected. She would help, but perhaps not in the way Edith expected.

That Tristan McRainey lingered in this world meant he had yet to accept he was dead and therefore was a restless spirit. It was her duty to help wayward spirits, and she would do just that.

Once she helped the dead man move on to the next plane, then she’d have to explain to Edith that it was not possible to bring the dead back to the land of the living.

Still considering everything they spoke about, she went to the small but well-appointed bathroom and made quick work of washing her face and brushing her teeth.

The entire time, Tristan’s searching gaze formed in her mind. She’d have to hand it to Edith, the spirit was certainly compelling. Not only was he visibly emotional, but somehow he was strong enough to communicate with her.

Gwen let out a breath. She was tired, had only been in Scotland a pair of days, which meant it wasn’t the time to put full trust in anything she may have perceived.

Finally, with a book in hand, she slid into the plush bed hoping to read until sleepy. Unfortunately, her mind would not settle, thoughts swirling in her head until she gave up and put the book down.

It wasn’t uncommon that she get excited at the prospect of a new assignment. She lived for the times when it was possible to get away from the drudgery of her nine-to-five job at a publishing company and head out to faraway places like Scotland to see about pesky apparitions.

For some reason, thinking of the ghost of Tristan as an apparition felt wrong, but it was the truth.

Although most of her work was exciting and interesting, this one would certainly be one of the most interesting.

Once again she pulled out her notes, considering how for several hours Edith had regaled Gwen with an elaborate tale, confiding in her the entirety of the McRainey family legend regarding Tristan McRainey. She’d enthralled her, telling Gwen an account that consisted of conquests, wizards, and enchantments. If Gwen didn’t know any better, she’d call the woman crazy for believing in the fairy tale.

Yet.

Edith believed every bit of it to be true and Gwen wished deeply that she could also believe it, because it was a sad, but magical tale.

Gwen could not make herself believe Edith was crazy. Maybe, after hearing the story of the enchanted knights all her life, the woman grew up believing Tristan McRainey was alive and truly imprisoned in an alter-world.

For a long moment Gwen studied the ceiling. How would Edith take the news that he was a ghost? Better yet, how to explain it in a way without making the woman upset.

Tristan McRainey and his men had undoubtedly died over three hundred years ago. The story of the five brave knights captured by a wizard was someone’s notion after they’d disappeared. Perhaps the story had helped the grieving families cope with the loss of their men.

Gwen had to admit that after seeing the man for the second time since arriving, she herself almost believed him to be real, not a ghost. The apparition had been so clear, the emotions that he projected so tangible.

The ornate lamp on the bedside table flickered and the bulbs went out darkening the room. Gwen didn’t bother getting up, she’d already decided reading was out of the question tonight. Tomorrow she’d ask Edith for a replacement light bulb.

The apparition’s piercing sea-green eyes formed in her mind. They were truly an astonishing color, the likes of which she'd never seen before. Who had Tristan McRainey been? She sighed. They didn’t make men like that anymore.

So much masculine power emanated from him. Just the way he carried himself, with authority, an assurance that came from being a true alpha male, the leader of his clan. Good-looking too—the man was a total hottie.

Gwen closed her eyes and pictured life so long ago. What had his life been like all those years ago, when he’d lived there in Scotland during the time of honorable knights? No doubt women flocked to him.

The intensity of Tristan McRainey alone was a turn-on.

What if he was really trapped in an enchantment?

If for some unimaginable reason it was true, then Gwen would be totally out of her element. Not by a bit, but by miles, hundreds of miles.

Although her mother, Iona, had taught her and her two sisters many spells and protection wards, Gwen didn’t recall that she’d ever mentioned enchantments.

“Dear Lord, why am I here?” Gwen grumbled aloud.

“You are here to free me.”