Curse of the Dark Shadows: Book 2 the Lion Roars

By Gloria Marshall

The saga of Geoffrey Garland continues as he returns to England to claim his inheritance as Lord Brightwood. His exploits in India gave him great wealth and two young sons who were rejected by their mothers. He is desperate to give his sons the happy childhood he was denied. The curse of the dark shadows dogs his every step. A loyal servant from India arrives to ask a favor, and Lord Geoffrey cannot refuse. His beautiful sailing vessel takes him back to the dark and mysterious continent. Danger lurks in every corner, and Lord Geoffrey's ship is attacked and his two sons abducted. Only one man can save them. A mysterious sheikh offers his help. Thrown into an unknown land of strange customs and language, Lord Brightwood finds himself entrapped by a new master who is more mysterious and ruthless than Lord Liam. Fast-paced adventure, suspense, forbidden love fill every page. Will the dark shadows finally consume him, or will he find the peace he desperately seeks? The poignancy of Lord Geoffrey's dark tale ends hauntingly. An unexplained longing will stir your senses.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: May 24, 2016
• ISBN: 9781524503284

Gloria Marshall

Gloria Marshall, author, poet and painter, loves to spin a tale sprinkled with history and suspense. Her characters are cast in off-the-grid, remote locations. Her travels open doors to adventure and wonder. Curse of the Dark Shadows is a two book eulogy that pushes the boundaries of our senses. A history buff and avid researcher, her historical fictions carry a grain of truth to stir one's mind. Gloria lives in Halifax, Nova Scotia, where she enjoys her passion for writing and painting.

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Copyright © 2016 by Gloria Marshall.

Cover Illustration by Gloria Marshall

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

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.

Rev. date: 02/28/2017

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Contents

Acknowledgements

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Six

Epilogue

Afterword

I love you as certain dark things are to be loved, in secret, between the shadow and the soul.

. . . Pablo Neruda

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

First and foremost…

To Sara, my free-spirited friend, whose insight and encouragement, led me to higher dimensions of inspired creativity.

Secondly and with great appreciation…

My support team at Xlibris for their constant attention and advice. To name one would be to overlook many who have worked together to make this experience as satisfying and fulfilling as possible. My success with this novel will be the result of your hard work. Thank you for a pleasant experience!

Thirdly and most importantly…

My family who stand beside me while I explore my creative instincts. Whether it be pen or paintbrush, you have always supported my desire to step outside the boundaries and take a path least travelled. I am humbled by your faith and love.

PROLOGUE

I open the dark wooden door and look at the steep stairs. They are just as I remember when I climbed them forty years ago. Now the cobwebs string across their expanse forbidding anyone to enter. Huge spiders lie in wait. They have not been disturbed by a human hand for many years. I search for a broom or a stick so I can sweep them away. Even now I quake at the thought of ascending these well-worn and dark stairs. Memories are flooding my mind. They are taking me back to my first night in this large mansion. My heart still leaps with fear as the memories come alive.

. . . I am a little boy of three years old. I have been yanked from my family in the middle of the night by a government worker. There was no warning; only a knock on the door. I close my eyes and the memory of my sick mother comes to me. She is crying and pleading to keep her children. The government says we must go to foster homes. Our father has too many children. I am the youngest and the lady pulls me kicking and screaming from my mother’s arms. She brought me here to a big scary house with dark shadows everywhere. A kind man said I would live with him and his lady until I go to school. Now I am being sent to bed. And I follow a strange man with a lamp up these scary stairs. I do not like it here but I fight back my tears. I go past many closed doors until we reach the end of the hallway. It is very dark. The strange man whom I am to call butler opens a door and pushes me into the dark room…

As I climb the stairs and my riding boots echo in the silence of the darkened hallway, I shudder with the memories. I now own this large mansion. I am the master of this estate, Lord Geoffrey Brightwood. I look at the closed doors and decide this must have been the servants’ quarters at one time. I go to the end of the long hallway until I reach the last door. I gently turn the handle and the hinges creak as the door swings open. There are no windows and the room is very musty from being closed up for so long. I swing my lantern around so I can see how small the room is. A tiny bed and table are the only pieces of furniture. It is as I remember it from forty years ago. Did I spend four years here in this little room?

. . . I see a bed with real bed clothes and a table. A jug of water and a basin sit on the table. What a wonderful room this is I think. I am only three years old and have had to sleep with my siblings in one bed. My older brothers sleep on the floor. We are a large family and very poor. The strange man called the ‘butler’ pulls off my clothes and I stand naked in the cold room. I scream and cry. But he pays no mind and pulls a nightdress over my head. I get into the bed and cover my head. He leaves and takes the lamp with him. The room is dark. I peek out from the thin blankets. I cry for my mother but no one comes…

The bed is as I remember it. It is so tiny yet every night a grown man sat on it in comfort. He came to make love to a little boy. He played a game called soldier and I get a warm feeling even now forty years later as I remember how happy I was. Now I see the lord for what he was. A rich lord with a dark secret. A beast controlled him and he played with me every night for four years. He stole my innocence and then my manhood. In my young mind this was a father’s love to a scared three year old. I sit on the bed and listen to its aged creaks. Now the memories fill my mind.

. . . It is dark and I hide under the covers. I cry myself to sleep. Cold air hits my naked body and I sit up. I am confused. A man is sitting on my bed. It is the kind man with a smile. ‘I will show you a game called ‘soldier,’ he says in a kind voice. He rubs his warm hands over my naked belly and legs. I scream. My father never touched my naked body. ‘Hush now, little master. I am going to show you how to love a man and give him pleasure. You will love me every night this way.’ . . .

I had put these memories to sleep many years ago. What I thought was love as a little boy I now know is a horrid act by a sick man. This is when the beast came to live inside me. This is where the dark shadows found me. I will rid this estate of the memories. I will burn this horrible bed and table. I will close up this section of the house and the ghosts will never hear a human voice again.

Angry and frustrated, I move toward the door. The light from my lantern casts a shadow on the wall where a faint outline of another door can be seen. The layers of dust has revealed a secret. Curious I move closer. I have no memory of this. My hand pushes hard and it slowly swings open to reveal a dark tunnel. It is very narrow but I can move freely along the passageway. I knew these old mansions had many secret doors and tunnels. It seems like a long walk until I come to a solid heavy oak door. I carefully try the latch and it creaks open. Rusted over the years from lack of use, it slowly opens. I cautiously enter the room and find it to be the master bedroom. I am numb with shock. Then I remember how my master always appeared and disappeared into my room. I was just a little boy but I remember asking him one day.

. . . ‘little master, these things are not your worry. Know that I protect you and I love you. Nothing bad will happen in my home. This I can promise.’ He would say in his deep rich voice…

I push the forbidden door closed. I study it carefully as it looks just like the rest of the dark wood panels. I remember the hidden room where I played soldier with my master during the day. It is off the master’s library. It was my favorite room as a child. Now I wonder how many other hidden doors and rooms are in this mansion. Perhaps my inheritance is more sinister than I first thought. Perhaps my sons are not safe here.

A servant knocks politely on my bedroom door. My lord, your dinner is ready. Your family is seated and waiting.

I turn to wash my hands before joining my family. The excitement of returning to my estate in London now dims. A strange dread fills me. My dark shadows will thrive here. My heart is heavy as I descend the beautiful wide staircase that will take me to the extravagant dining room. Tomorrow I will thoroughly inspect every room in this house. Especially the servants’ quarters. I shudder at the daunting task. As a child, I only knew a few of the hundred rooms in this huge mansion.

* * * * *

CHAPTER ONE

All shadows whisper of the sun.

. . . Emanuel Carnevali

The carriage comes to a stop in a cobblestone courtyard. I step out of the rented carriage and my curious eyes take in the massive mansion. Its white colonnaded portico stands out from the grey stone exterior; the beauty of the mason work is breathtaking. I take in the many windows facing the courtyard where a magnificent fountain with a nude boy posing as a water spout stands. I remember none of this when I lived here. It was dark when I entered the door to this mansion and I saw none of the beauty I am now staring at. I was only three years old; a scared little boy who lived here for four years but never once passed through these magnificent doors again until I was seven years old. I was held captive with invisible chains. I shake my head and push the memories away. I left this house a pauper and now I return a wealthy lord. I own this estate. The rich lord whose sick love for me ended in his untimely death at the bottom of a deep ocean gave me his wealth and his estate. He gave me much more. He gave me the curse of the dark shadows that have dogged me all my life. Yet I return with such excitement.

My servants are lined up on the stairs of the mansion waiting for me to enter. They do not know the dark past I bring with me. When I learned of my inheritance, I employed a retainer in London to manage my property. I was enjoying my adventures in India and had no mind to return to this place with its forbidden memories. His instruction was to disperse the current staff and replace them with fresh faces. I wanted no reminders of my past. This new staff stare at their employer for the first time. One of them, the head butler by his dress, comes forward to greet me. Lord Brightwood. Welcome home! He bows formally. Your luggage, milor’? Your family, milor’? He looks around curiously.

My two sons sleep as they are tired from their long sea voyage. I come without luggage for I left in haste from my estate in India. Is the children’s wing ready? I turn as my friend’s carriage comes into the courtyard. The head butler pales as Tensing steps from the carriage. My loyal friend smiles and his dark eyes look at the luxury displayed before him. I could have no truer friend than Tensing. Our eyes meet as he steps forward.

Milor’, your servants must use the left wing entrance. That is the servants’ quarters. The head butler waves his arms as if he were shooing away a wild animal. We both laugh. Tensing’s wife, heavy with child, and her sister disembark from the carriage. Milor’, this is most unfitting. I beg you instruct your servants. His accent speaks of old country ways. His family in service for many generations.

Allow me to introduce you to my friend. He is my guest and his wife and her sister will be staying with me for many months. You will address him as ‘sir’. His nobility is of another land. They come from India and are expecting their first child. Please arrange a wing for their comfort and personal servants for their needs. I speak politely but firmly. I will not have gossip in my servants’ quarters. I know all the secrets of great mansions. I know the hidden life they harbor. I have learned much on my travels.

I reach into my carriage and gently shake my sleeping son of three years. He opens his blue eyes and smiles. Papa, are we home yet? He is the happiest little boy and he holds my heart. I lift him out of the carriage and set him on the cobblestones. The sun and wind on the ocean darkened his skin. His black curls bounce as he shakes his head in wonder. The head butler looks at him in disbelief. I smile. There are more shocks to come. I gently wake Geoffrey, my five year old son. His royal upbringing was filled with servants. I watch as the head butler almost faints when my golden-haired son steps from the carriage. An audible gasp is heard from the servants standing on the steps. He has a presence and he still wears his fine royal clothes. The jewels shimmer in the late afternoon sun. I did not stop in Calcutta long enough to buy him English clothes. He stands beside his brother and takes his hand. My little princes! I smile proudly.

I speak to the head butler. My sons. Master Geoffrey and Master William. They are to be addressed as such. Their wish is your command. They require a nanny and personal servants. I assume you have prepared for them as I instructed. I take pleasure in his confusion. He waves his thin arm toward the line of servants.

We received your instructions, milor’. We have prepared the mansion as you requested. He steps aside as I move toward the entrance. I wear the finest of English clothes made for the nobility. I lead my entourage proudly but secretly I know we are an unusual sight in England. News of this day will make the rounds in the strict English society. I will receive many invitations to parties. The mystery of a wealthy lord from far-off lands will open many doors.

I step through the wide doors and view the familiar black and white tiled floor. Memories of forty years ago flood my mind. For a brief moment, I am that scared three year old stepping on those shiny tiles for the first time. I look down at my three year old son. My God, was I that small? Alone and scared? My steps falter and my heart jumps. Am I wise to come here? Do I want to walk this path again? Will I stir the dark shadows hidden in its corners? I move forward from the vestibule to the withdrawing-room where a fire will take away the late afternoon chill. I have come home!

William tugs on my arm. Papa, can we see the hidden room where you played? His blue eyes shine with excitement as he looks around at the well-appointed room with its many windows. They have been polished until they glisten. I am pleased that my retainer followed my instructions.

Later, my son. First we must have a late lunch as we are too hungry to wait for dinner. Then you can explore our magnificent home. I look down at my sons. Their laughter will chase away the dark shadows that lurk in the corners. Their childish pranks will light up the empty rooms. Their footsteps will chase away the memories that linger. The lonely mansion will come alive again. How good to be home again!

* * * * *

I sit in the library and listen to the children’s laughter outside the window. We have been home for four months and everyone has settled in. I am uncomfortable in the large master’s bedroom so I had it closed up and settled for a smaller suite of rooms closer to the children’s wing. This suite was for the lady of the house and with a few adjustments, I made it quite comfortable. Tensing and his wife are in the west wing where their first born daughter was born just two weeks after we arrived. It was an eventful night; everyone was excited. The baby arrives with very little help from the doctor I had arranged. Tensing bursts with pride as he looks at his daughter for the first time. I stay in the shadows and watch with interest. William became an uncle that night and his chest puffs up with importance. He is the first to hold the precious bundle after she had been swaddled and nursed. A sleeping dark skinned baby was placed on his lap with an anxious father standing close by. Our hearts are filled with joy that night. I have been getting a steady flow of invitations to various social gatherings. I send my regrets. I have no desire to meet the nobility class yet. My life is full and my days are spent with my two sons. A knock on the library door disturbs my thoughts.

Yes, you may enter. I call out. I watch the head butler as he enters with the morning mail. He places it on the desk in front of me.

Sir, you wish any refreshments? he asks. I am quite pleased with his employment. My retainer was very attentive with the servants he had hired. A fresh glass of lemonade, perhaps?

Yes, that would be nice, Jacks. Thank you, and will you ask the nanny to bring the children to the playroom for their studies, please? I reply. He nods and then bows on his withdrawal.

I glance at the stack of mail and give a big sigh. More invitations! I know I have to put in an appearance soon but I savor the seclusion my estate offers. As I pick through the sealed envelopes, one name stands out. Lord and Lady James Fullham. My heart jumps. I quickly break the waxed seal and pull out the fine quality parchment. I read the invitation with interest.

Lord and Lady James Fullham requests your presence at a party in honor of their first wedding anniversary. To be held at the Fullham Estate at seven in the evening. R.S.V.P.

It is a surprise to learn he had married when he returned to England. I ponder the invite. My mind drifts to Assam where James and I were so happy. That fateful day I rode off in search of my son Liam he was devastated yet he stayed until that dreadful night my master found him. I put a dagger in my master’s heart for destroying James. I still feel the pain of the remorse I felt when I killed the only man who truly loved me. I think of James’s gentleness when we made love. I never loved him but I missed him when I returned and found him gone. So here he is living only a few streets away from my estate. I quickly find the head butler and tell him I will be going out this evening. It is time to make my appearance in the circle of society’s wealthiest lords.

I dress in my finest clothes. My long hair is pulled back to contain the curls that frame my tanned face. I glance at the massive Fullham mansion as I leave my extravagant carriage. I summon my courage as I am greeted at the door by well-dressed servants. I take in the crowed ballroom of Lord Fullham’s mansion. As I look around noting the knots of perfumed overdressed ladies clustered in various sections while groups of men gather to discuss the politics of the day, I shiver in trepidation. When the head steward announces my presence, all heads turn to see the mysterious Lord Brightwood for the first time. I smile as I make my way to a group where I see Lord James. The men with their powdered wigs and faces watch with interest but the women flash brazen smiles hidden behind their fluttering fans. I don’t like powdered wigs or faces so I stand out with my blond curls neatly tied back in the current fashion and my tanned face. A few ladies are brave enough to curtsy as I pass them and I nod as etiquette requires but I do not stop. Lord James has recognized me and is frozen in shock.

Gentlemen, I bid you good evening. Lord James, my sincere congratulations on your marriage. I smile as I speak and my eyes fasten onto his shocked face. He has seen a ghost. The other gentlemen look from him to me waiting to be introduced. Finally, a fleshy hand is thrust forward and introductions begin. "You must be the nabob we have heard so much about. I say, my lord, does India flow with as much wealth as rumored?" An overbearing lord pushes his flushed face closer to mine. His eyes show their greed. I know this game well. I shrug my shoulders and smile. Questions are hurled at me so quickly I barely have finished answering one before another is waiting. My years in India are of great interest to these men. They know of the rumors of the wealth I acquired in my years at the tea plantation.

Gentlemen, if you will excuse us, I wish to speak with Lord Brightwood in private. My library is to the right, sir. Lord James moves away and extends his hand to show me where I am to follow. He finally recovers from his shock but all color is drained from his handsome face. I notice an overly dressed lady catch his eye and nod in silent agreement. I study her carefully as this must be his wife. I find her pretty in a rather plain way but her eyes stare at me in disdain. I can only assume that James told her of our life in Assam. He closes the door to the library quickly and turns to me. Is it really you, Geoffrey? ’Pon my word, I thought you were dead! He studies me for a long moment before moving to the cabinet and pouring two full glasses of whiskey.

I raise my glass to his. To the love we shared and lost, James. I told you I would come back to you, my voice is hushed. I tip my glass and swallow the contents. The warm liquid strengthens my resolve. Tell me, my dear friend, how did you end up married? His brown eyes hold mine. The spark is still there.

He refills my glass and offers me a chair. I wait for his story and I am quite shocked by his tale. My marriage, he snorts. A sham although we do share a marital bed. Odd as that may seem. Most ladies would be happy to escape their marital bed! I was broke and she had money. Quite simple really. How could I love another after you? In Assam, I waited well over a year and one night I had a most unusual dream. It still haunts me. I was so lonely and that damn monsoon humidity! Stirs the senses ’til you go crazy. He refills his glass and sits down. I never had an experience like it, ’pon my soul. It was so dark. I felt I was being taken somewhere and the passion that stirred inside of me. By Gad, what a sensation! He closes his eyes as if to relive it. When he opens them, he stares at me intently. T’was you that came to me in my dream? I felt I was awake and yet I knew I was dreaming. And then the whisper in my ear that you were dead. I died that night. He looks at me and I see the pain in his brown eyes. Jimbob probably told you when you returned that I left with the tea shipment and never returned. First I planned to stay in Calcutta and wait for a few months. I knew you would come looking for me when you returned. I gambled and drank. I got in with a bad crowd. I lost everything except this estate in London. I did have a small sense of pride to keep that. When I got back here, I owed huge debts. A new widow was seeking a husband with a title and I foolishly stepped into those shoes. It was the only way to save my family estate. She was very wealthy. Oh, she fulfills her duty as a wife but this is her passion. Lots of parties to show off her title as Lady Fullham. He stops in his narration and looks around the luxurious library. He grabs the whiskey bottle and passes it to me. It is like old times in Assam. A whiskey bottle and two lovers. My heart breaks. Geoffrey, I sold my soul for this! He waves his arm and his eyes take in the dark panelled walls. My head is getting fuzzy and I know it is time to put the bottle away. It is almost empty. I try to stand and feel myself stagger. We both laugh and fall into each other’s arms. I shudder to think what might have happened had a knock on the door not pulled us apart. His wife enters and views us with distaste.

My lord, our guests grow anxious. They wish a chance to meet our guest that you have impolitely stashed away. She glares at me with her beady eyes. She is angry. I think of James getting into bed with this despicable creature every night. I politely bow to her as she turns to leave. When the door closes, we both burst into laughter. We always read each other’s thoughts. In our drunken state, we make our way to the door. I have decided I have had enough socializing for one night and prepare to leave. I have lost my love for English nobility and their false friendships. I learned all their dirty secrets while I was in Calcutta. I look back and see Lord James standing in the doorway watching me depart. He knows I will not come to any more parties at his mansion. The pain is too great.

Lords crowd around me begging for my ear. I offer my excuses and push through the mass of richly attired bodies. I did not see her when she stepped in front of me. My attention was on the lonely figure of Lord James as he joined his loveless wife. When I collide with a dark red haired lady, I instinctively reach out for her. But the collision is too great and we both go sprawling to the floor. I find myself lying on two most delightful breasts and staring into shocked green eyes. My whiskey numbed brain does not register and I stare deep into eyes as green as the clear cold lakes in the Himalayas. She pushes up against me with her hips to get away. I can feel her soft body beneath me. I am shocked she does not wear the heavily boned corsets most ladies wear.

You rude man, I demand you get off me this instant! She screams. I notice an accent other than English. She pushes me harder but my weight is greater. I am too drunk to move quickly and her soft body is stirring my sleeping root. Her hair gets caught in the buttons on the collar of my dinner coat as she struggles. Heavy tresses had been wrapped in small pearl ropes which break releasing great lengths of dark red hair. It falls over her shoulders while the pearls bounce everywhere around us. I am oblivious to the voices around me until I hear Lord James. He is as drunk as I am but he bends over to take my arm. She has felt my root harden and her eyes widen with surprise. I finally come to my senses and move off the sensuous body beneath me. Lord James helps me to my feet. His face is filled with concern.

A very distraught and embarrassed lady gets to her feet. She angrily throws off helping hands and stands before me. Her hair has fallen to her waist and her green eyes flash with her rage but I see the desire in them.

My lady, my deepest regret. Are you injured? I did not see you and I admit I am a little drunk. Please forgive my unspeakable bad manners. My blue eyes are full of mischief and I flash her my best smile. She is so desirable. I start to bow but she waves her hand to move away.

You, sir, are not a gentleman! You seem to have brought the wildness of India with you. I expect this behaviour from my fellow highlanders. They are wild and lack manners but here in London I expect much more! She shakes her head as she turns to leave. My brain fog is clearing a bit and I note her beautiful body matches her beautiful face. I am fully aroused by now and her eyes drift downward as she vents her anger.

Lord James steps forward and pleads, My lady, Lord Brightwood is the finest of gentlemen I can assure you. This was an unfortunate incident. My deepest apologies. Were you leaving, Lady Catriona? Can I arrange a carriage then? He looks at me strangely before he breaks out in laughter. He knows me well. His eyes are glued to a familiar bulge. When he catches my eyes, I see his hunger. Quickly I collect my scattered senses and move away. I have made a total fool of myself on my first social outing as Lord Brightwood. The social circles will wag of this night. I turn to make my farewell to Lady Fullham who has quietly watched this incident play out in front of her. None of her previous parties has been so violated.

When I finally step out in the fresh air, I breathe a sigh of relief. Another cloaked figure steps out on the steps and I turn to see the unfortunate Lady Catriona. She looks up and sees me. Her face pales and she steps away too quickly. I grab her arm as she slips on the first step in the low lamplight.

My lady, you seem to fall a lot. Is this your usual manner? I am coy. I wait for the slap on the face as most ladies would deliver. Instead she takes my offered hand and I help