Page 1 of Haunted Hearts

One

MEDIEVAL ENGLAND, 1300S

The dark lordof Skull Manor watched her intently with haunting eyes, and Lady Lillith Bonnel found herself unable to look away.

Growing up together, Lord Blaze Payne, her family’s neighbor, had always seemed to be able to read her mind. But today was different. Seeing him again after so long, even from across the graveyard, it felt as if he were able to look into her very soul.

“Lillith, turn around,” whispered her mother, dabbing her tears with a hand cloth, taking a hold of Lillith’s arm for support. Serena, Lillith’s younger sister by two years, held on to her other arm. Her mother’s handmaid, Posy, stood behind them, crying. A priest stood in front of the group of people from Alderwood Castle, praying over the coffin of her father that had just been lowered into the ground.

This all seemed like naught but a dream to Lillith. A nightmare, actually. She couldn’t believe her father was really gone. Henri Bonnel had suffered from a bad heart that made him sweat and cough, sometimes having a hard time catching his breath. He’d turned to ale to ease his pain, and because of it was often well in his cups.

His mistake had been going out to hunt in his soused condition. That is what caused his demise. He’d gone riding at dusk and with only the page, Milo. Two went out, but only one returned.

Lillith had been told he’d been riding recklessly and ended up falling off his horse and onto his own blade.

Everything seemed to be happening so quickly. Her father’s brother, Arthur was at the castle at the time, and insisted Henri be buried right away. Sadly, Lillith and Serena had been visiting the Baron Edward Bancroft, and had never even had the chance to say their final goodbyes to the man who’d sired them.

Their feuding neighbor from Skull Manor, Lord Blaze Payne, hadn’t been invited to this grief-filled gathering, yet here he was, acting as if he belonged. The man had such gall to show up during this trying time in Lillith’s life. Blaze watched every movement from a short distance away, not saying a word. He was not unlike his pet raven that lurked from the branch of a dead tree overhead, acting like it was looking for carrion.

Earlier, Lillith swore she saw a slight smirk lift up the corners of Blaze’s mouth. Was he laughing at them and their misfortune? Had the feud between their families turn Blaze into a cold and cruel man through the years? He looked so arrogant as he leaned against the headstone of his own father’s grave. It was almost as if he were silently saying her father had suffered the same fate now as his, and that he deserved it.

Blaze’s father, Sir Roger Payne had died just last week of complications from an old wound he received in battle while fighting for the King years ago. Or at least that is what Lillith heard from the alewives and their wagging tongues.

Both Lillith and Blaze’s fathers had been knights and lords who fought on the same side, for the English King Edward III. Those battles were justified, she supposed. But a part of her still wondered if the feud between their families that had lasted for five years now, should ever have happened at all.

Lillith’s heart sped up just seeing Blaze this close, since she’d been forbidden to speak to him or even to ride past his manor ever since the feud began. She was told he and his family were witches and very dangerous indeed.

Dark clouds filled the sky as a storm brewed, quickly approaching and blocking the warm rays of the sun. The wind picked up, causing a rustling noise as dried leaves scurried across the ground like souls from the graveyard trying to escape their destined fate.

It was getting very close to All Hallows’ Eve, the holiday that frightened Lillith. Being in a graveyard around this time of year was not where she wanted to be. It was said that the veil between the land of the living and dead was at its thinnest at this time of year. On All Hallows’ Eve, supposedly dead souls could pierce that veil and rejoin those in the land of the living for a short time.

A shiver ran through Lillith’s body. She wasn’t sure if it was from the cool autumn air nipping at her nose, the stories of the dead coming back to life, or from the fact that Blaze had been staring at her ever since she arrived at the graveyard. It made her jittery, anxious, and on edge.

Ever since the feud began five years ago, Lillith had been hearing that Blaze was a witch - or warlock as the men of their craft were called. His mother was said to be a witch who even practiced dark magic. Lillith’s father had believed the stories and convinced most in his family these stories were true as well. It is what started the wretched feud between them.

Henri Bonnel blamed Blaze’s mother, Minerva for cursing Lillith’s brother, Robert. One day he just disappeared. It was said he went mad and jumped from a cliff to his death. Witnesses swore they saw him, but Lillith’s family never recovered his body, only his hat, which they found floating in the sea. Her father was certain Robert’s body was taken by the forces of evil.

Robert’s death had been foretold by Minerva, Blaze’s mother, just hours before he disappeared. Lillith didn’t want to believe all the awful stories, because she’d been good friends with Blaze growing up, and never thought of his family as wicked or dark.

Then again, her strong infatuation with Blaze might have made her miss the blatant truth.

Not able to help herself from looking at Blaze again, Lillith peeked back once more. This time, he nodded at her, causing her to gasp. Lillith’s heart jumped and her head snapped back around to stare at her father’s coffin. She needed to stay focused. If Blaze truly was a warlock like everyone said, he might be controlling her mind. She couldn’t let him do that. As hard as she tried to think about nothing but her father, thoughts of her past filtered back into her mind of her time growing up with Blaze.

They were best friends at one time, going on explorations in the woods together, or horseback riding down to the river where they’d walk barefoot in the creek and skip rocks across the water. They’d also spent lots of time up on the hill where the Paynes’ livestock grazed. Lillith would pick wildflowers and watch clouds, while Blaze practiced with his sword, always wanting to be a knight like his father. Blaze was always either at her home of Alderwood Castle, or she was at his, at Skull Manor. Those were happier times when life was simple and her only worry was if Blaze was going to try to kiss her or not.

They had kissed. Once. It was on her fifteenth birthday. It was only one little kiss, but it had made her feel special, excited, and extremely hopeful. She had wanted more than just a friendship with Blaze someday. She had wanted to become his wife. But now that she knew he was a warlock, those dreams changed.

Her head turned once more to see Blaze, her odd obsession with him like a moth to a flame. The moth knew it was going to its death, but couldn’t stop itself from approaching the flame. Why couldn’t she stop looking?

Was he really a warlock and his mother a witch? It made her truly wonder. And did his mother curse and kill her brother, Robert? If so, she wanted nothing to do with them and hoped the Paynes all rotted in hell. Lillith purposely glared at him this time, wanting Blaze to know that things could never be the same between them. Not after he’d lied to her and kept such dark secrets to himself.

The hostility that started growing within her quickly flew from her mind once his cloak opened in the breeze and she got a better look at his body. Blaze had always been a handsome boy, but in the past five years he seemed to have turned into a full-fledged, desirable man. Being three years older than Lillith’s age of twenty, Blaze was now the same build and height of most of her father’s knights.

Lillith watched from the corners of her eyes as he stretched out one arm over the top of the tall gravestone, showing little to no emotion at the death of her father. That made her wonder if he’d even shed a tear when his own father passed away. Emotions were never abundant with Blaze. He was always in control with every aspect of his life, never becoming the least bit unsettled no matter what happened. Had he even been affected by this horrific feud? Had he missed her at all? Sadly, she would never know the answers to those questions now.

Blaze slowly slid his arm off the gravestone and crossed his arms over his chest, fully aware that she was watching him, but too proud to look away. That made her wonder why he had even come to the funeral at all.

The dark lord’s pet raven swooped down to settle itself on top of the head stone of Blaze’s father, watching her with eyes just as dark and dangerous as its master. Pagans couldn’t be buried on consecrated ground. However, it seemed Blaze convinced someone that his father was Catholic. Mayhap he was controlling minds after all.