BY ELIZABETH ELLEN CARTER
The Ghost Bride
WHO IS THE WAILING WOMAN WHO HAUNTS A SMALL SOUTH DEVON TOWN?
Can Montague Rhodes save Jemima Douglas before she meets the same fate as Isabeau du Bois?
Originally published in the anthology, Upon A Midnight Dreary, a USA Today bestselling collection of haunted Historical Romance novellas from Dragonblade Publishing. Now available as a standalone novella.
May 1867
Jemima Douglas, a travel correspondent for a London ladies’ magazine, goes by train to a village in South Devon to research an article about the emerging popularity of visiting romantic ruins and historic sites. Of particular interest to her is one Gatcombe Castle.
En route, Jemima meets handsome and charming Montague Rhodes, an historian at Cambridge who has been invited to Stanton to visit an old friend. The new deacon of the parish, he has uncovered a mystery about an old local church.
There’s a spark of attraction between Jemima and Monty – but even before they can get to know one another, events overtake them.
On the platform of the local railway station, Jemima has her first shocking encounter with a strangely dressed wailing woman – a wraith who is part of local folklore.
Excerpt
On the opposite platform stood another woman dressed quite unusually in white with a strange sort of head covering – a veil? – obscuring her features.
It seemed impolite to stare, so Jemima retrieved a small hold-all from her carpet bag, and extracted the letter from the inn confirming her booking and the approximate time of arrival. She set them away before pulling out her late father’s fob watch to check the time against the station clock. It was twenty-past three. The train had been ten minutes early so her transport should be here shortly.
She put away her watch and glanced across the tracks. The woman opposite had not moved, her head still lowered. Was something wrong? Was she ill?
Jemima frowned. There was something amiss…
She approached the edge of the platform, intending to call across when, unprovoked, her chest tightened in a constricting band. She could do nothing but stand and stare. The veiled figure’s head slowly rose.
A visage more skull than face revealed itself. There were voids where the eyes ought to be, but the creature found hers unerringly enough. It took one step then another, walking off the platform itself seemingly on air before opening its lipless mouth wide in a high-pitched, unearthly scream. Jemima felt the sound go through her. It went on and on, filling her ears until she could hear and see nothing but the nightmare before her.
Her head spun, only to realize her body had spun with it. Masculine arms held her tightly, pulling her back from the edge of the platform just as a steam engine barreled past, its piercing whistle replacing the specter’s scream in her ears.
“Miss Douglas!”
Jemima looked up at her rescuer. Montague Rhodes stared back at her, eyes wide in shock. Over his shoulder, she saw the portly station master approach them at a clip.
“You almost stepped in front of that train, Miss!” the man yelled.
Jemima nodded, not trusting herself to speak, but allowing Rhodes to help her keep her feet, accepting his support to reach a bench. She gingerly lowered herself onto it.
“Get the lady some water!” he instructed the station master before turning back to her. “Are you all right?”