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Prologue.
Mariah.
Mariah stared at the vision in front of her. It was similar to one she’d spent holidays in, yellow-coloured square-cut blocks with a heavy thatched roof. Three chimneys and diamond-shaped leaded windows also adorned the property. The Black Cat was long and wide, with sleeping upstairs and a converted barn out back. A heavy wooden door with two small glass windows had a particular charm to them, and the inn was set in a beautiful country lane. A river crossed the back of the property, and fish swam in it. She’d seen canal boats passing by and guessed those who sailed the barges would visit once the inn was open.
Wildflowers grew rampant, and trees hung over the lane. At the side of the Black Cat was a woodshed, which was empty. An aura of neglect hung over the building, but Mariah knew it could again be a beautiful home. Her living quarters were downstairs, tucked away in an annexe attached to the rear of the property. The garden was extensive enough to create a beer and private garden. Mariah could almost taste the barbecues they could offer out there.
Parking was opposite the inn, a field converted into a tarmacked car park. There was plenty of space for those staying overnight and for locals to park. Luckily, it was hidden behind huge hedges and trees. There was a wider entrance at the far end, which appeared to be part of an old stable block converted into part of the Black Cat. It would be an ideal entrance for disabled customers in wheelchairs.
Mariah patiently waited for the estate agent to arrive and give her the keys. Her move had been easy. She’d literally fled her hometown on the premise of her boyfriend cheating on her. Mariah had called him a few choice names since she’d discovered him with her cousin. Called her cousin some vicious names too, come to that.
A sleek Jaguar crawled down the lane, and Mariah sniffed. She’d already paid to have the lane cleared of anything that could damage a vehicle and had the road re-laid, so it was pot-hole free. A man pulled up and jumped out. He strolled over to her, and Mariah took an instant delight.
“So you’re the lady who bought this old place,” he called, stopping and waiting for her to come to him.
“Are you the estate agent?” Mariah asked, not moving. Bugger if she’d ever dance to another man’s tune.
“No, my name is Klaus Anderson. I’d like to make an offer to buy this place.”
Mariah blinked. Had she heard right?
“I’ve not even moved in,” Mariah said.
“All the better. I can write you a check right now. Say twenty per cent over the asking price?”
Mariah’s eyes narrowed. Something was wrong, and Mariah didn’t like him.
“Sorry, the Black Cat is not for sale.”
“Miss, you know the rumours about the Black Cat? It’s haunted and supposedly has a devil too. Nobody will visit your inn,” Klaus sneered.
“That’s okay. I’ll open the Black Cat as a haunted inn. There’s a niche in the market for them lately. Or I’ll just keep it as my home,” Mariah said.
Klaus’s eyes narrowed, and he stepped towards her. Suddenly the lane filled with menace, and Mariah jumped. It wasn’t coming from Klaus, although he clearly considered himself a threat. It came from behind her, the Black Cat. Shivers ran down her spine, and Mariah slowly turned her head and saw nothing. There were no faces or figures, but the aura was blasting from the inn.
“Perhaps you need to leave,” Mariah murmured. She turned her head back and saw Klaus striding back to his car.
“When you’re forced to sell, remember this day and my offer. It won’t be so generous next time!” Klaus called and sped away. No sooner had he left than the lane filled with brightness again, and the menacing threat disappeared.
“What on earth was that about?” Mariah wondered out loud as she saw another car heading towards her and prayed it was the estate agent this time.
Chapter One.
Benedict
Benedict watched as Klaus Anderson fled down the road. He snorted in amusement. He did not like the popinjay whatsoever. The Black Cat had reacted to his anger at seeing Klaus and the silent threat he’d posed to the young woman below. Benedict cocked his head as he studied her. He guessed this was the new owner, and, once again, he’d chase her away within twenty-four hours. He reached out with his senses, and the Black Cat joined him and agreed their prisoner was safely asleep in the cellars. Just as he had been for nearly three hundred years since his death that night in seventeen-sixteen.
The woman was cute, Benedict decided. Not a stunning beauty, but sweet and, he supposed, adorable. She had brown hair trapped in a ponytail and a curvy figure. Her face was rounder than he went for, but she had piercing dark brown eyes and rosebud lips. She wasn’t tall or short, about five foot five, and wore a blue sundress.
Klaus had been about to threaten the young lady, and while Benedict didn’t want visitors, he was aware she was alone. He reacted as any gentleman would and moved to protect her. His home responded at once and trained all its negativity on Klaus. The guy paled and fled as the stranger turned to stare at the inn, shocked. Her brows drew together in confusion as Benedict released the Black Cat, who sent him a ribbon of amusement.
Another car swept down the lane, and Benedict watched as a scruffy man exited. A slow smile crossed his face. He was terrified of the inn. A chuckle escaped his lips as the fellow stayed well away from the Black Cat and sent worried glances at it. Benedict wondered whether he should behave.
Mariah
Thankfully, this time, it was the estate agent. A young man named Thomas Marks. He babbled nervously as he greeted me and kept sending wary looks towards the inn. What on earth was going on? Mariah thought.
“Your keys are right here, ma’am, if you could sign,” Thomas said.
