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The Sea Witch: The Ghost of Somerset Castle
The Sea Witch: The Ghost of Somerset Castle
The Sea Witch: The Ghost of Somerset Castle
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The Sea Witch: The Ghost of Somerset Castle

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Lierien Stornaway embarks on the voyage of her life when she marries the captain of the Sea Witch from her grandfathers Herne Dennor Castle in Scotland. She travels through spellbinding adventure, dangerous seduction , kidnapping and pirate attack in their trading journey through the Mediterranean Sea in the 1850s. Little does she know how her adventures will tie into her return to her husbands estate in Cornwall and the Ghost of Somerset Castle, where she must right an ancient wrong to solve the mystery.
LanguageEnglish
PublisheriUniverse
Release dateMay 16, 2013
ISBN9781475911480
The Sea Witch: The Ghost of Somerset Castle
Author

Daphne Dunn

I have traveled 14 countries, staying to live, work or study some years in Geneva, Paris, Motala, Trondheim, Florence and East. Cultural relativity thus gleaned, has bred compassion and admiration in me, for the heights, depths and brilliance of the universal human spirit. I’ve sailed the Atlantic on both Queen Elizabeth and Queen Mary, visited new borders to the rhythm of a thousand trains, flown in old prop planes, jets and on my thumb, trusted buses, donkeys and horses; and ridden the rails on freight trains with the hoboes through deserts and forests and cities. I live in the Pacifi c Northwest, a country of strong mountains, powerful seas and ancient forests. I’m a musician, artist and mother, enlightened by my beloved children who have taught me to laugh all my laughter and cry all of my tears. My life in enriched with friends and dogs, cats and angels. Nowadays I do portrait art, landscape design, run my dogs, dance, cook and work on three upcoming manuscripts. Still I long to re-visit Kashmir, Nepal, Venice, Istanbul… thousands of years of history accumulated wisdom; architecture of inexpressible beauty and symmetry, await within their ancient streets, our hushed voices and echoing footsteps.

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    Book preview

    The Sea Witch - Daphne Dunn

    Copyright © 2013 by Daphne Dunn.

    All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

    This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

    iUniverse books may be ordered through booksellers or by contacting:

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    Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

    Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

    Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

    ISBN: 978-1-4759-1144-2 (sc)

    ISBN: 978-1-4759-1148-0 (ebk)

    iUniverse rev. date: 04/18/2013

    Contents

    CHAPTER I Herne Dennor Castle Scotland

    CHAPTER II THE WEDDING

    CHAPTER III ALGIERS

    CHAPTER IV PIRATE ATTACK

    CHAPTER V Catherine Of Malta

    CHAPTER VI Kidnapping In Greece

    CHAPTER VII Constantinople

    CHAPTER VIII Somerset Castle

    CHAPTER IX The Ghost

    CHAPTER X Herne Dennor

    Epilogue

    Lieren Stornaway embarks on the voyage of her life when she marries the captain of the Sea Witch from her grandfather’s Herne Dennor Castle in Scotland. She travels through spellbinding adventures, meets with dangerous seductions throughout the Mediterranean, including kidnapping and pirate attack. Little does she know how her adventures will tie into her return to the mysterious ghost of Somerset Castle, her husband’s estate in Cornwall, where she must right an ancient wrong to solve the mystery.

    CHAPTER I

    Herne Dennor Castle Scotland

    I shivered in the wind from the sea upon my high craig at dawn; I was covered in blood and muck from shoulder to boots and wore an ancient slicker and souwester in the powerful ocean wind.

    There were no selkies in the dawn; they only came in at twilight with their beautiful eyes and evil tricks. I had just helped deliver twin lambs and had a bucket of rich milk from the sister ewe for Granfer’s breakfast. I was bone tired though the work never ended in this mouldering old castle of which we now only occupied two old suites besides the kitchen space. The rest of this age old pile of stone held only ghosts and memories and Holland covers.

    Granfer had scraped enough to send me to London and Paris for further education with the hopes I would also seize upon a love match or nay, to recoup our dwindling affairs. But I was fey and considered strange and even though my name was ancient and my lineage bright fair, no one captured my fancy. I was built like the Fair Folk and my dusky curls cascadedto my waist but my head was filled with adventure and old sea tales. I wanted something real, something more, something I couldn’t name but I longed for.

    As I looked over the haze of the harbor I perceived the masts of a beautiful shadowy brig with the figurehead still indecipherable; but I was fey. And I knew this ship would figure in my life; as sure as I was covered in the birthing blood of the ewe, as a benediction.

    I must hurry to draw water and clean myself and get Granfer’s breakfast. He did enjoy his breakfast and I had the news of new twin lambs to cheer him with. In the cobbled courtyard I cleaned away the blood and muck and running up to my rooms I shivered myself through my ablutions and brushed endlessly at my tangled curls, and rolling them into a simple filet. Then I donned a thick velvet gown of mauve and hurried to stir the fire and put the kettle on the hob. When it was boiling I arranged a tray laid with fresh baked bread and marmalade, porridge, three soft boiled eggs and carved a peach.

    From the bubbling kettle I brewed strong tea and for myself the coffee I had come to love in France. I ran outside and picked some yellow and violet crocuses and placed them in a blue willow cup for his tray, for I had always loved things of beauty in nature and so did Granfer.

    So ye’ve not forgotten your old man then my beauty?It’s ravenous I am this morning girl. And the ewe?

    Small ewe, it was a tight fitmy hands are small and I was lucky, Grandfer. One of the twins was a ram, too.

    I wanted nothing so much as to learn and all experience was my bread and butter. But I was female. I could not be mate on a ship and travel to foreign lands like Byzantium, Istanbul and Greece and mingle with their peoples. Granfer’s huge globe of the world had filled my head with dreams of adventure and mysterious new knowledge and horizons. And I wanted to paint these far places and peoples, paint as I’d never done before; and I was good.

    Granfer had raised me as if I were equal to a man in mental acuity. The Belgian nuns may have taught me beautiful embroidery, horticulture, and fine arts; but none of the masculine education that radiated from Granfer: mathematics, physics, astronomy, fencingand husbandry of farm and stock. He knew and accepted the weight and responsibilty of the Sight which I had inherited from my Grnadmere and hers before her. He fostered my belief in mysticism and acknowledged the basics of all religions as separate but similar pathways to the same divine and compassionate Creator.

    I told him of the feeling of recognotion accompanying the unknown ship straining at her mooring anchor in Fowey Harbor, far below us.

    I feel it will figure in our lives in a way both bad and good. It unsettles me.

    You are overtired perhaps little dove. Later at market you’ll see her and be asking questions weel enough; keep from strangers, now."

    Yes sir… I said rather wistfully.

    I mean it. You are too beautiful by far for me to rest easy when a new ship pulls in; be home quick then. I went to my tower room where I had my paints and easel. My loom was set up and here I wove the beautiful wools into soft warm cloth. I was completing a thick wool cloak to keep the winter’s chill from Granfer when he walked by the sea with me and the wind tossed the birds in the sky and tore our words away. After it was lovingly folded and I had begun the fine embroidery around the sleeves I made ready for market. The sun was well up and I strolled the parapet to gaze out and down on the harbor.

    I caught my breath at the beauty of the ship, foreign to this place. She was luxurious and graceful and perched, sails furled, like a great swan landed upon a lake. The figurehead was a curiously beautiful woman, enchanted perhaps; there was both a power and knowing in her face, the eyes especially. Had she been fashioned after an ancient sorceress? The ship was the Sea Witch.

    I hurried for my basket and deep blue velvet cape, bundling my hair again into the filet and pinning it securely against the ocean wind, though curly tendrils always managed to escape around my face. I bought fresh mussels and crabs and a brisket for a hearty broth along with shallots, carrots, green beans and tomatoes. I gathered celery and asparagus and cress, garlic and herbs along with a crusty loaf. We had our own new potatoes and onions, curly red lettuce and peas in the garden; also parsley thyme and rosemary.

    As I was planning Granfer’s dinner and thanking God for the safe delivery of our new twins my eyes were caught and held by the piercing gaze of a man my senses were captured with knowledge of—though I had never seen him before. had I? I barely noticed the three at his side; we could not pull our eyes from each other. His were quicksilver with tangled black lashes and his hair was nearly black.

    Finally I tore my eyes away and whirled to go but he most improperly but gently grasped my hand as I hastened away. First tell me your name beautiful lady, his rather gravelly voice beseeched.

    Lieren of Herne Dennor Castle. I whirled and was away.

    We shall meet again Lieren of Herne Dennor;for I will arrange it no matter.

    Granfer and I continued reading Homer in the Greek that night before dinner. We were always studying when the day’s work was done and two candelabra had been placed in the library and a fire lit. Huge shadows played against the walls. Granfer’s old batman Colin, who had been forty years with him since the war, came to announce a visitor. As we had several erudite old friends who came occasionally during these comfortable sessions for a pre-dinner sherry or claret, in order to absorb the atmosphere and poetry of words, we were not surprised.

    Captain Penn Stornaway, announced Colin.

    Captain Stornaway bowed. Complete silence reigned as Granfer rose to his feet and with a friendly smile motioned our guest to a large chair and offered him sherry or claret; he smiled charmingly and accepted the claret. You read the Greek then, he smiled enchantingly.

    It is so much more beautiful in the original, we think, said I a little shyly.

    I so agree, smiled Captain Stornaway, and the conversation was launched. I could see that Granfer was truly enjoying himself exchanging sea stories of voyages, places, and memories. I hadn’t seen him so animated in many a day.

    The captain had wasted little time; he accepted our invitation to dine and I jumped up to lay another place and put the adjustments on the supper. After sampling the savory brisket, simmered with shallots and carrots and mushrooms; accompanied by asparagus and a flower-beautiful crab and mussel salad with crusty bread, he was enamored with my cooking

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