Christmas at Tremayne Court

By Natasha Neuzerling

Christmas is not shaping up how Ciarán Darcy planned. Newly married to David 'Kastle' Kastellanos, they’re spending the season with Ciarán’s extended family at their estate in Northern England, and everyone has an opinion on the suitability of his new husband. The only person whose opinion Ciarán cares about is Lucius, the first Tremayne Veilwalker and someone Ciarán has learned a great deal about, but much to his annoyance, Lucius wants to test whether Kastle is a worthy husband for Ciarán...
Kastle isn’t inclined to be concerned by the thinly-veiled threats of a spirit casting judgement on those who marry into the Tremayne family, but finding a mysterious bundle of letters by his bed with the message 'find the miniature' is something else entirely. A ghost in the castle wants him to find something... but why?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Natasha Neuzerling
• Release date: Dec 22, 2019
• ISBN: 9780463923818

Natasha Neuzerling

Hey, I’m Natasha Neuzerling, though I’ve also written under Cinnibar Rose, Rose Irons and Rose Lane (choosing a pen name is hard). I was born and grew up in a relatively normal family and relatively normal suburb – which is lucky, because there is little that is normal about myself. I would describe myself as a cat in human form: I prefer to watch rather than participate, I’m quiet, on the independent side, curious, rather vain, and if I let my body have its way, I’d sleep 12 hours a day. Luckily for my ambitions, I don’t let it do that.I’ve been writing short stories and planning longer projects for as long as I can remember. Though my childhood was primarily focused on fantasy, my current interests lie in mysteries and the paranormal.I hold a Bachelor of Arts, majoring and minoring in writing and children’s literature, respectively, and as of 2019 I’m working towards a Masters in Information Management. When I’m not writing or studying, I’m probably reading Agatha Christie or dealing with the antics of my two cats.Come along on my writing journey with me!

Book preview

Christmas at Tremayne Court

Copyright 2019 Natasha Neuzerling

Published by Natasha Neuzerling at Smashwords

Smashwords Edition License Notes

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Table of Contents

Welcome to Northrope

Mirror Speak

Mysterious Findings

Decorating and Investigating

A Nocturnal Adventure

A Problem

Revelations

The Dower House

Lucius

Christmas Day

Denouement

About Natasha Neuzerling

Connect with Natasha Neuzerling

Welcome to Northrope

Kastle

The moorland sloped up ahead of us, up to a low stone wall and wrought iron gate that creaked open as our car approached. A row of barren plane trees lined the main driveway, a road so long, and well lit, I was half-afraid a plane might try and land on us. Once I saw our destination, I kind of hoped one would.

The grey stone walls of the mansion loomed out of the darkness, at least three stories high and surrounded by a million floodlights. Turrets rose from its corners to punctuate the night, the silhouette of the roof high and pointed like some kind of church. Ivy clung to the stone in places, some only skeletal stems but most still in full green.

You didn't say anything about a castle! I spluttered, mouth gaping as we drew closer. I could start to make out the shapes of tall windows and a sweeping balcony on the top floor. My brain conjured up images of guards in military-grade gear standing at them, just waiting for the chance to take out anyone who posed a threat. I shifted in my seat and tried to look insignificant; with that monstrosity looming ever nearer, it wasn't that hard.

I am quite sure we did, beside me, Ciarán was smirking at my expression. Several times.

We even showed you pictures! Brigid added from his other side.

Pictures don't give you the scale of the place, I told her. I wasn't expecting it to be so damn... big!

In the front seats, Lady Electra and Stephen Brennan snorted. I know the feeling, Kastle, Stephen said. I felt tiny the first time I came here after we married. I still do.

Welcome to Tremayne Court, Electra added.

Some welcome, I muttered, slumping against Ciarán's shoulder. He gave me a pitying smile and a pat on the cheek that was only slightly sarcastic. I glared at him half heartedly, and glanced back out the window as we broke from the avenue.

The road ran in a wide semicircle around the front of the house; surrounded by immaculately groomed grass and a few tall trees. Like the plane trees behind us, all of the trees were bare in the winter. Silhouetted against the night sky, they looked rather skeletal. I shivered.

A sudden flicker of light caught my attention. Tearing my eyes from the castle, I looked around to the left and found another house next to a copse of what I thought were dormant fruit trees. The house was smaller, but still a pretty substantial size as far as I could tell, lit as it was by only a few lights. The door was firmly closed and the curtains were drawn tight. Except for one, at the front of the house.

A light flickered inside, on and off.

What the hell? Brigid muttered, leaning around Ciarán to get a better look. Is someone in that house?

The dower house? Electra said, looking away from the road for only a moment. There shouldn't be.

The three of us in the back seat shared a look. Ghosts already, and we had barely been in Northumberland for an hour!

We came to a stop alongside the steps up to the front doors, which were every bit as big and impressive as the castle itself. Brigid opened her door first and a blast of frigid air swept inside. Persephone, who had up until this point been quite happily sleeping on my lap, gave an unhappy meow and tried to climb into my coat. You're a spirit; you don't feel cold, I told her, pushing her down.

Mrow! Persephone disagreed. Loudly. Sighing, I bundled her up in my arms and braced myself before opening the door. Malakas, it was freezing. Back home, the temperature had been sitting around forty degrees when we got on the plane. I wasn't sure this was an improvement.

I wonder if we'll get some snow, Brigid idly speculated. Another car emblazoned with the crest of the Tremayne family cruised up behind us, carrying the bulk of our luggage. None of the five of us could travel light, not for a week away.

In the lowlands? Unlikely, Ciarán said, sliding out of the car and pulling his coat tighter against the chill. It fell halfway down his calves with what looked like a short cape around the shoulders. He had been positively giddy about being able to comfortably wear it. We might see some snowflakes if we are lucky.

I'll ask Grandpa what the weather forecast is, Brigid decided, fluffing her petticoats and adjusting her caplet. Much like her brother, who had added an array of Victorian accessories to his usual look, the different weather had let her go crazy with her dress, a red velvet construction dripping with gold embroidery and fur trim. It's damn colder than it was the last time I was in Britain during winter, even dressed like this.

Her words reminded me of the reason we were in England; to spend Christmas with Ciarán and Brigid's extended family at the family seat. I wasn't much of a fan of Christmas at the best of times - when you read the minds and memories of anyone you touch without gloves on, the closeness of the season becomes one hell of a trial. At least with my family, I knew what to expect.

But the Tremayne family? Consisting of the Marquess of Northrope, the Earl of Avonlee and a bunch of other extremely powerful aristocrats?

I was so screwed.

You're not screwed, Brigid said, making me wince. Did I say that out loud? Grandpa will love you, and since he's the one who actually has all the authority in the family, he'll keep everyone else in line. And if he doesn't, well, Ciarán can always put the fear of the Veil into them. Or I can punch them.

Brigid, Electra warned, frowning disapprovingly.

Yes Mum? Brigid said innocently. The effect was very much ruined by the smirk on her face.

No punching people, Electra said firmly. But there was a twinkle in her eye. Not when your language would have the same effect. Stephen tried to cover up a laugh and Brigid tried to look offended. Neither were particularly successful.

Ciarán just smirked, but I was well accustomed to his body language after four years of dating followed by two months of marriage. His shoulders had grown tense - well, more tense, anyway. Ciarán had been perpetually tense ever since his mother stopped by to announce that her father was hosting the family Christmas this year - and that I had been invited as well.

This should have been a good thing. They could have ignored me entirely - for being a commoner, a psychic, or a man. But just because the Marquess didn't seem bothered by any of those things didn't mean the rest of the family would be the same. Big families never shared all of their opinions - they just didn't.

I brushed the back of my hand against Ciarán's arm. He glanced sidelong at me and interlaced our fingers, rigid spine relaxing ever so slightly. We could handle this. We had spent the last five years dealing with increasingly aggressive ghosts and worse humans. By comparison, a couple of snobby nobles should be a piece of cake.

In theory anyway.

Electra nodded as a man wrapped tight in a heavy coat came out to help unload the cars. Come on, Dad will be waiting for us.

The back of my neck suddenly started to prickle. Was someone watching us? I peered closer at the castle. With the spotlights throwing contrasting light and shadow everywhere, it was hard to make anything out, but I thought I could see a figure, paler than