The Haunting of Lady Sophie Read online

  The Haunting of Lady Sophie

  The Dragonwyck Legacy, Book One

  By Marly Mathews

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This e-book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Copyright © 2015 by Marly Mathews

  www.marlymathews.com

  Cover Design by Melody Simmons from Ebookindiecovers

  http://ebookindiecovers.com/

  All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  Author’s Note: The Isle of Dragonwyck is a fictional island located off the South Coast of Devonshire, in the English Channel. The magic of the FitzCharles Family has turned it into an island of wondrous beauty.

  Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Epilogue

  Prologue

  Castle Rayne, The Isle of Dragonwyck

  Off the South Coast of Devonshire, England, 1894

  Lady Sophie FitzCharles steeled herself against the wild winds buffeting around her. The winds were of a supernatural origin and would have scared most witless—fortunately, she was not like most people. She was a witch born with the unique ability to see spirits, both good and evil.

  Her twin sister Sylvina was caught somewhere in the fray fighting against whatever otherworldly force had created the gale like winds that swept around them.

  “Sylvie,” she called, her voice sucked away by the wind.

  She knew in her desperately raging heart that her sister could not hear her, and even if she could, she wouldn’t deviate from her course. When Sylvie had her heart and mind set on something, nothing could sway her.

  They had come into this world together. Sylvie was a mere ten minutes younger than she and now on this wild and terrible night, Sophie feared Sylvie would go out of this world without her by her side.

  She intoned a prayer, hoping that someone would hear it. Sophie and Sylvie were the only members of the family staying at Castle Rayne, as the rest were in London taking in the merriment of the Season.

  There were the servants in residence at the Castle, but they would be of no help to them, as they had no magical talent to speak of.

  Sylvie was terribly shy and preferred staying at Castle Rayne so she could continue her magical education far from the prying eyes of those in London. Their great aunts were usually helping them with that education, but had been called away the day before to nurse a sick friend.

  They were alone. No one would come to their aid, none but those who had already passed from the living world.

  Their family ghosts Seraphina and Lloyd had summoned her just minutes before from her deep slumber to come to Sylvie’s aid, and had abandoned her in order to see if they could help Sylvie in her absence. Whatever force had been summoned was determined to keep Sophie from reaching Sylvie, knowing that Sylvie was vulnerable without her twin.

  As the wind howled mournfully one last time, she felt a slice of pain that made her drop to her knees. Gasping for breath, she closed her eyes, as tears welled and slid down her cheeks. She was too late.

  Sylvie was gone.

  Sophie’s life had been ripped in half. She struggled for breath, and prayed that whatever force had taken Sylvie from this world would come to claim her too.

  Distantly, she heard a man’s voice calling to her. It was Rupert. The man she had promised to marry, the man who had set Sylvie on this foolhardy course in the first place.

  Numbness spread throughout her. She couldn’t move to meet him. Strong arms lifted her from her kneeling position, and she fell limply against her beloved, as the heavens opened up and drenched them.

  “You will be all right. I am here with you now.” His low voice was of scant comfort to her.

  “My life will never be the same again. I have lost a piece of my soul,” she whispered mournfully. She looked up into his tumultuous green eyes. They mirrored the deep sorrow she felt.

  “Oh, Rupert… she is gone…I failed her,” she moaned.

  “It will be all right, my love,” he murmured, kissing her forehead. She shut her eyes, against the pain thundering inside of her.

  “I will never marry you. I don’t deserve happiness,” she opened her eyes and stared at him, “I was too late—Sylvie lost her life because I didn’t save her.” She closed her eyes again, and let the beckoning darkness sweep her away into blessed nothingness.

  *****

  The other agents of Her Majesty’s Magical Intelligence Agency stood around Rupert. “What is to be done now, Lord Redding?” Lord Templeton asked.

  “We shall have to wipe their minds and replace their memories of tonight with memories that won’t make Sophie doubt or blame herself.”

  “Couldn’t we just travel back and make sure none of this ever happens?”

  “If this had been brought about by one devoid of magic by enlisting a dark arts user then, yes, we could alter the events of tonight. Alas, this was caused by a witch who bit off more than she could chew. We have no right to change what happened this night. Lady Sylvina brought death upon her this eve, and we need to let fate have its victim.”

  “If Lady Sophie ever finds out, she will hate you for it,” Lord Templeton pointed out.

  “That is why she shall never find out. I love her, but I won’t change the Laws of Magic for her. No, in time she will move on. She will recover from this devastating loss.”

  “You heard her, she said she had lost a piece of her soul. She will never recover, and if her father and mother ever find out…”

  “Be quiet, Lord Templeton. I am the ranking agent here. What I want goes, and right now, I don’t feel like explaining to my superiors why I broke one of our cardinal rules.”

  “If we alter her memories, the part of her that remembers you might just disappear from her mind. And if that happens, we shall have to play with the heads of everyone in the ton, for they all know you were set to be wed in a fortnight.”

  “We shall have to perform a blanket memory spell to alter the memories of those who knew about Sophie and me. I guess I shall have to wait to marry her. The Dragonwyck Ruby brought us together once—it will bring us together again.” Pain circled his heart. He had made many sacrifices for the greater good of the British Empire, and losing Sophie for an unforeseen amount of time was one of those sacrifices.

  They had so looked forward to married life. He had loved Sophie from the first moment they’d laid eyes on each other. He drew in a sharp breath, and looked at the destruction that surrounded them. “Now, let us set to rights what wildly uncontroll
ed magic has undone.”

  *****

  “Oh that terrible beast,” Seraphina said. “We can’t let them do that to our Sophie and the rest of our family, Lloyd! We need to stop them, and if we cannot stop them, we’ll have to do whatever is necessary to restore their memories!”

  “No, Aunt. We let them have their way. They are right. We shouldn’t meddle when it comes to this. Sylvie’s spirit has already moved on—we have no right to undo what’s been done. Our darling Sophie will recover in time—and she will fulfill her destiny. Right now that is our only responsibility. We have to make sure she breaks our family curse.”

  “I do not like it. I do not like it one bit, Lloyd.”

  “I know, neither do I. But we do not have to like it, we just have to make sure that Sophie never finds out how her twin actually died. It will be easier for the wee one that way.”

  “I shall not let him hurt her again, Nephew.”

  “That is your prerogative, my darling Aunt, but you know as well as I do that the Dragonwyck Ruby always gets its way. That is why we are chained to this Earthly Plane.”

  “I know,” Seraphina said. “Regardless, I shan’t let that blackguard break her heart again!”

  “To be fair, she was the one that told him she wouldn’t marry him. He is only buying himself the time he needs to win her heart again, by creating a clean slate between them.”

  “He shall have her over my dead body,” Seraphina said.

  “That is rather pointless, dearest. You needn’t worry, we shall continue to do what we have always done for our family. We shall watch over them and make sure that no supernatural force hurts them ever again.”

  “We failed Sylvie.”

  “Aye, and we shan’t fail Sophie. Come now, Aunt Seraphina, let us return to the Castle. Tomorrow morning will be a grievous time for us all.”

  Arm in arm, the two family ghosts floated back to their ancestral castle. Life for those within the FitzCharles Family would never be the same again.

  Chapter One

  Mayfair, London, England, 1897

  “However did I get myself into this dreadful situation, Pamela?” Lady Sophie FitzCharles sighed, staring worriedly at her reflection in the cherry wood cheval mirror.

  “Your mother insisted you accompany your younger sisters and cousin, as she is feeling quite poorly tonight and cannot go with your Papa. You know how very much your father delights in attending Lady Huntingdon’s gay soirees.”

  “Her dances are so merry and Papa likes having fun above anything else. He is king of the merrymakers!”

  She just wished her mother hadn’t insisted she go. Her father could have handled the duties of chaperone quite nicely, but of course her mother wanted to be secure in the knowledge that there was someone at the ball who would watch over her children as well as she would.

  “Oh, you do make quite the beautiful picture in your ball gown, my lady. You don’t give yourself enough credit, you are going to outshine Miss Simone tonight. I daresay you will have all the lords and gentleman rushing to fill your dance card.”

  Her stomach dipped nervously, and the floor felt as if it wobbled beneath her feet. That was what she was afraid of, she hated having to dance. Generally, she hid herself away in the refreshment room, praying that no one would engage her in conversation or ask her to dance with them.

  In fact, she really didn’t have to worry about such things as most of the men in the ton wouldn’t consider asking her to do anything with them, for she was known as being as barmy as a mad tinker.

  Her ability to see and interact with the ghosts of Mayfair had earned her that unfortunate reputation, and no matter how hard she tried to appear normal to the rest of her peers, one of the ghosts always wrecked her good time by making her seem to be as silly as the village idiot!

  Since she had lost Sylvie, any sort of social event seemed unbearable to her, and she only decided to go after seeing how sad and sick hearted her mother looked. This was a hard time of the year for everyone, as they were all keenly reminded of how much they had lost.

  She stared at the black silk and sequin dress she wore. She had originally wanted to wear a lavender coloured silky concoction, and had briefly wanted to wear a dress of crimson red, but she hadn’t been able to break away from the mourning black when it came right down to it. The enchanting ebony ball gown had been designed and made by the Enchanted Design House of Fairchild.

  She fought every day to wear different colours aside from the mourning black. On rare occasions, she won the battle, but she mainly went for more sombre colours like sapphire blues and dark greens. Sometimes, she opted for lilac, mauve or lavender.

  Instead, of the beautiful lavender concoction, she wore a gown she had worn before and though it was one of her favourites, others at the ball would probably recognize it. She could barely breathe, but the corset was giving her a beautiful shape.

  The sparkly sequins against the sombre ebony, made her look as if she was walking around wearing the night sky, for the sequins closely resembled the sparkling stars in the sky.

  Her glittering Whitby jet chandelier style earrings and jet cross necklace complimented the dress perfectly, and served a dual purpose, not only was it breathtakingly beautiful but it would help to guard against any evil spirits wandering Mayfair, and since she was a magnet for ghosts, she needed it.

  She had a slight train on her gown and prayed it wouldn’t end up tripping her up. She dare not dance while at the ball and hoped she would somehow be able to avoid anyone asking her to take a turn on the dance floor.

  Simone and Charlotte would have longer trains on their gowns, and they always looked so lovely when they danced, lifting the train up by the hook, they would glide around the dance floor like fairies.

  Though she disliked Simone at the best of times, she had been blessed with the FitzCharles grace when it came to dancing. Many that knew about their illustrious family history would say they danced with the grace of the Raynes, a powerful family from a faraway enchanted realm.

  Sophie Rayne, Princess of Dragonwyck had come to this realm during the time of the Protectorate, searching for the man who was her true love. She had found him in the form of King Charles II, and had assisted him in reclaiming the Kingdom of England. Her love affair with Charles produced three children, one son, and two daughters. Their branch of the family descended through their son, Henry.

  Because of her enduring love for Charles, Sophie had remained in England, and he had bestowed the title of Duke of Dragonwyck on their son, making her father the 5th Duke of Dragonwyck. Since then, the eldest daughter of the Duke of Dragonwyck had been named Sophie in honour of the sweet and beautiful, Sophie Rayne.

  “I love that bracelet, my lady. Why I think it was one of the prettiest pieces you own,” Pamela said.

  Sophie stared down at the pink hard stone cameo bracelet surrounded by jet. She wouldn’t sparkle quite as much as Simone would when she wore the beautiful ruby necklace and matching earrings her father had given her on her last birthday.

  Sophie had the emeralds that her father had given her on her last birthday, but she didn’t want to wear them tonight, as they always reminded her of Sylvie. Sylvie had adored emeralds.

  “I do believe that Papa thinks he shall find someone suitable to marry Simone tonight,” she whispered thoughtfully.

  “With the way you are glowing this evening, my lady, he is more likely to find you a husband. In fact, he just might have to wrestle them away from your side. Do not forget your gloves,” Pamela said, handing her the elbow length black gloves that would finish her mourning ensemble.

  She pressed her hand nervously to her abdomen, “Do you think I could still act faint and stay behind?” she asked, as Pamela fussed a little more with her elaborately upswept hairdo decorated with sparkling jet hair combs. “I… I just don’t know if I can do this! These events always remind me of Sylvie, and though some say I have had plenty of time to mourn…I haven’t gotten over her loss. I don�
�t think I ever will. This isn’t right. I am going to stay home.”

  In the years after Sylvie’s death, Sophie had struggled to get past the loss. Every day she woke up, she lost Sylvie again, because for a few blissful seconds, she believed that Sylvie was alive and well.

  Balls were especially hard for her, because everyone was so happy there and deep down, no matter how hard she tried to put on a brave face, she knew she would never be that happy ever again. If they had lost Sylvie differently, if the Craft hadn’t been the reason for her death then maybe she could move on. Maybe she could make sense of it all.

  “No,” Pamela said firmly. “You must attend the ball, and rain a little bit on Simone’s prissy parade. She plays the eldest sister far too much and takes away the limelight that should be focused entirely on you. Since Lady Sylvie’s passing, you have let Miss Simone get away with far too much.

  “I don’t fancy her raising herself above you like that. I could understand if she was as sweet as Lady Charlotte, Lady Alexandra or you, as she is the eldest, but she is so sour at the best of times, and she looks down her nose at the lot of you. Why, she entirely forgets that she is in this house on the kind charity of your parents!

  “You will go to the ball, and you will enjoy yourself, Lady Sophie, not only will you enjoy yourself but you will make Miss Simone enjoy herself a little less, and you will bring me back lots of juicy stories about your night out. Lady Sylvie will be smiling down from heaven, knowing that you’re going to have the time of your life tonight!”

  The firm tone of Pamela’s voice set a smile on Sophie’s face. No matter what, she could always trust Pamela to be on her side, for she disliked Simone as much as Sophie did. And Pamela was right. As the personal maid to both she and Sylvie, Pamela had taken Sylvie’s death almost as hard as the family had.

  If only Sylvie hadn’t been so keen on making up new potions. The potion that had exploded and killed her could have been her greatest creation. Instead, it had led to her demise. They had told the rest of the ton that Sylvie had died from a mysterious illness that had claimed her hard and fast while staying at Castle Rayne on the Isle of Dragonwyck.