Free Meet Me At the Castle by Denise A. Agnew Page A

other man at the gathering had such long hair.
    “Damian?” Elizabeth voice faltered and trembled. “Damian…how…”
    “You are well?” His eyes grew serious and worried. “You called for me. I knew you needed me.” He swallowed hard as he kissed her forehead. “I knew you needed me and then I was here.”
    “I…I thought you were…” She faltered, her limbs trembling. “I’m well enough. I think.”
    “You are pale.” He brought her closer, looking down at her with such rapt attention she felt the warmth of his regard steady her, remove the illness.
    “I’m well now that you have come to me.”
    He smiled. “At your service, mistress.”
    In Elizabeth’s happiness she did not question how he came to be there, that he was as solid and as real as anyone. She took his hand and enjoyed the warmth of his palm, the heat reminding her of their lovemaking.
    “I thought never to see you again,” she said.
    “And I you.”
    For too long her life had been full of mysteries that could not be explained. “You are the Damian in the tale Lady Deaning was just telling me about. You’ve been dead for all these years?”
    He winced slightly. It was several moments before he nodded and answered. “Yes.”
    The music swelled. A waltz flowed around them like a wave, brushing against them with beautiful strains, invading their hearts and minds. She relished his hard arms about her, heedless of propriety, caring nothing that they might be discovered. She savored time that might at any moment be taken from them.
    Elizabeth simply looked at him, taking in the sculpted curves of his face. The dazzling light from the ballroom illuminated his male beauty. Heaven help her, he was more handsome than any man had a right to be.
    The melody finished, and Elizabeth feared he would disappear, and she would find herself sitting by Lady Deaning and that he had never been there at all. Or she would wake from sleep and find herself in her bed at Penham Manor and their time together only a dream.
    But as he held tight to her hand, he remained solid and warm.
    The chill of night did not penetrate her clothes. Her happiness was too distracting, her heart too complete to care. Damian was here. He was alive. And he had come to her when she needed him.
    “If God is willing, I shall never leave you again,” he said.
    Before she could take a breath his mouth touched hers. Warm, tantalizing, brushing, and stroking her. She wanted him instantly with the fierce desire of one who had been denied their lover’s touch. When he broke the kiss, he drew back only slightly.
    “I can touch you. I can feel you against me and it is all real.” He laughed and lifted her with his strong arms, twirling her about like a top. “Then it is true. I am free.”
    “Free from what?” she asked.
    “From the torture of my prison. For as much as I loved Cromar, it became my prison in death. I have not moved from Cromar since I died.”
    She clasped him tightly about the waist and laid her head on his chest. “But how is this happening to me? I have so many questions. How is it I never heard such rumors of you before?”
    “I cannot answer them all, my sweet. I do not understand all of it myself. I know only that when I died and my body was taken away, my soul remained behind. Perhaps I was cursed by a family member of a man I killed. My household left Cromar, what was left of my family departed and scattered to the winds. I do not know what happened to them. Over time the castle decayed, and I was forced to watch it every minute, every day, deteriorate into what it is today. A deserted, forlorn hulk of rubble.”
    Within his gaze she felt mesmerized. For their dark depths held a love so strong she knew nothing would harm her again. In her welled the strength she had always possessed but never knew of until now.
    “Damian, it has never been deserted, so long as I was there. Perhaps when I was a child I felt you, and your spirit was kindred to mine. Both of