Page 2 of An Enchanted Knight

“He’s never reappeared so soon. It was just yesterday morning you spotted him for the first time.” With a bright smile, she waited for Gwen to speak.

Gwen couldn’t help but smile back. Edith McRainey was a likable woman and her Scottish lilt enchanting.

“Ms. McRainey, I don’t know if it was him or not, but there is definitely an entity in this house.” She glanced toward the window where he’d stood and resisted the urge to move closer to the spot.

“If only you had the portrait, it would be helpful in confirming that the man I just saw is indeed your ancestor, Tristan McRainey.”

“Oh dear.” Edith’s eyebrows pinched together. “I have no idea what happened to Tristan’s portrait and why it’s suddenly gone missing.”

The slight woman shook her head, her face sagging. “Tomorrow when my nephew Derrick arrives, he is bringing a photo of a portrait and a miniature of Tristan that my brother, his father, kept. Perhaps Derrick can also shed some light on where the larger portrait is. Always fielding calls, he ended our conversation earlier on the phone, before I could ask him.”

Edith slid past her to the hallway entrance and peered at a bare spot on the wall, a large anchor the only visible evidence that a portrait hung there.

“Tristan McRainey’s portrait has always been in the same place, here in the hallway outside the sitting room, just as he instructed in his Last Will and Testament. Perhaps, it’s been gone for a while, and because I’ve gotten so used to it being there, I didn’t notice it was missing right away.”

She pressed her hands into her chest and shook her head. “I’ve failed him.”

Gwen approached the woman and patted her shoulder in an effort to reassure her. “I’m sure you’ll find it. There has to be a good explanation for its disappearance.”

They moved back into the sitting room, and Gwen couldn’t help but look at the window again. Why had the apparition stood by the window both times? It had to be Tristan McRainey, the long-since deceased laird of the castle she now visited.

Edith must have ordered tea, because just then one of the home’s staff members came in with a tray of tea and placed it down on the coffee table. The young girl smiled shyly at Gwen and waited to serve them. After they sat, she proceeded to pour for them and left.

“Thank you, Lizzie.” Edith McRainey watched Gwen expectantly while sipping her tea.

Gwen took her journal and pen out of her tote bag and opened the book to a fresh page.

“Mrs. McRainey,” she began.

“Please call me Edith. Since you accepted the assignment in the matter of Tristan McRainey, to help free him, you’ll be here for some time, getting to know my family background quite well. We might as well be on a first-name basis.”

“Okay then, Edith.” Gwen smiled at the woman who didn’t resemble the ghost in the least.

Gwen wasn’t sure the male she’d seen earlier had smiled often while he’d lived. He seemed more the brooding type.

“Edith, can you describe Laird McRainey? What you remember from the portraits, of course, since he died a long time before you were born.”

Gwen wrote the date and time at the top of the page before adding, “It’s helpful for me to know as much as possible about him. It’s imperative that you give me as much information as you can, so that I can help him move on and finally be at peace.”

“At peace?”

“Yes, I assume you hired me to do what I do best. Help Tristan McRainey move past where he has been. In limbo... perhaps not a good choice of words.” Gwen searched for a better explanation, not quite sure why words eluded her. “I help people who’ve passed away find their path, move to the beyond, where they can find eternal rest.”

“Oh no dear. You misunderstand. He’s not dead,” Edith replied, alarm tightening her face. She set her teacup down so hard the cup bounced in the small saucer.

Meeting Gwen’s gaze, she gave her an expectant look. “I haven’t hired you to expel a ghost. Quite the contrary—you’re here to free the Laird McRainey. Release him from the enchantment.”

“Release him? I don’t understand.”

Edith's clear eyes locked onto Gwen’s. “You, dear girl, are his only hope for rejoining the living.”

Chapter Two

Aman trapped in an alternate world, imprisoned by a dark wizard, waiting for a woman to cast the spell that would free him—it sounded like something from a fairy tale. Yet, her hostess, Edith, insisted it was all true. More than that, Edith was certain Gwen’s repeated encounters with Tristan McRainey meant one thing: she was “the one” destined to break the curse.

As Edith recounted the story—what little she knew—Gwen scribbled notes furiously, her mind spinning with disbelief and curiosity. Could any of this be real?

Later, Gwen retreated to the second floor, her thoughts still tangled in the bizarre tale. The bedroom was a serene contrast to the chaos in her head, with its muted tones, queen-sized four-poster bed, and antique tables. The floor-length curtains matched the duvet, offering an elegant but comforting atmosphere.