Earl Nevermore

By Corinne Bell

There is a legend that tells of a princess, long ago, in a kingdom now gone. None could surpass the princess in skill and beauty until she died a most horrific death.

Constance lives in Victorian London. Her parents are poor, and she works in a factory just to survive, until one day by chance she meets a mysterious manthe Earl of Nevermore who captivates Victorian Society.

This chance encounter leads her on a journey and a path of darkness, making her not only question her past but also her heart.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse UK
• Release date: Oct 25, 2014
• ISBN: 9781496994745

Corinne Bell

Corinne Bell has always been interested in writing and in anything creative. This is her first novel, which she started writing at least two years ago, but life just kept getting in the way. Being the creative person that she is, after enrolling into drama school, she went into the world of film and acting but now wishes to pursue her writing career and make her dream finally come true.

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© 2014 Corinne Bell. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

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

Published by AuthorHouse 10/22/2014

ISBN: 978-1-4969-9473-8 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4969-9472-1 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-4969-9474-5 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2014919077

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.

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.

Contents

Prologue   The Dream – Germany 1400

Chapter 1   Times Changing – London 1839

Chapter 2   The Girl and the Raven – London 1839

Chapter 3   The house of Secrets – Hertfordshire 1839

Chapter 4   The Disappearing Earl – Hertfordshire 1839

Chapter 5   Lady Katarina Cometh – Hertfordshire 1839

Chapter 6   Past Repeating – London 1840

Chapter 7   Legends and Fairytales – London 1840

Chapter 8   The Devil’s Book – Hertfordshire 1840

Chapter 9   Death and Love – Hertfordshire 1840

Chapter 10   The Final Truth – Hertfordshire 1840

Author’s Note

About the Author

To my mum, grandparents, and dad. Love you guys always.

Prologue

THE DREAM – GERMANY 1400

The moon hung above the snow-covered land. The landscape glistened silver; a deathly silence reigned. The snow had stopped falling. A girl ran through the trees, her midnight blue cloak flying out behind her. As she ran, drifts of snow fell from the trees, her hood fell back releasing her long golden plaited hair, but she didn’t slow.

Her breath created a cloud in the air, and her lungs hurt as a deep chill settled in them. Her face felt like an icy mask. An owl hooted from somewhere in the trees, and she heard the rustle of small animals scurrying away from the unnatural darkness. The moon suddenly disappeared behind a veil of clouds. The path before the girl disappeared with the light. She grabbed hold of a tree as her heart beat frantically; she felt a cold tear run down her cheek, freezing against her skin almost instantly. Closing her eyes tight, she remembered the many stories that had been told about this ancient wood. The locals never went in, fearful from tales of wolves that turned to humans, monsters who fed on darkness, and demons that ate souls.

Trying to calm herself, she took a few deep breaths and opened her eyes slowly. The moon had reappeared, lighting the way again, but suddenly a figure formed out of the blackness. He stood before the girl, the most handsome man she had ever seen. His hair shone as black as night in the silver of the moon; it was long, flowing down to his waist like water. His eyes seemed to change colour, first gold and then silver. He was dressed in black from head to toe.

He gave a slow smile, and it was the most enchanting thing the girl had ever seen. His voice was the most beautiful she had ever heard. Don’t be afraid. He held out his hand to her. Not remembering why she had been afraid in the first place, she walked towards him and took his hand.

What does your heart desire, little one? His eyes swirled with colours, constantly changing. His hand was cold to the touch, and she felt herself shiver. He pulled her cloak closer around her, smiled, and spoke again. What is a young lady doing in these woods? Do you know they are very dangerous? She found she couldn’t answer him. She felt herself being pulled into the darkness of the trees as they walked hand in hand away from the moonlit path and into the deep forest.

Chapter 1

TIMES CHANGING – LONDON 1839

C ONSTANCE AWOKE with sweat pouring down her face. The sheets were damp as well. Sitting up, she wiped her brow and shook her head, waiting for her trembling heart to slow. Her mother appeared, holding a bowl of stew. How are you feeling, Constance? She set the bowl on the table next to the bed and put her hand on her daughter’s forehead. Hm, you still have a fever. A worried crease appeared in her face.

Mother, I am fine. Constance pulled aside the covers and tried to get out of bed, but her mother pushed her down gently.

No, you are not going anywhere. You must promise me that you won’t go anywhere!

Constance sighed, admitting defeat. I promise.

Her mother kissed her head. Well, I am off to the factory; your father has already gone. If you need anything, your grandmother will help you. I will leave your stew here. She nodded towards the table. Constance felt her stomach groan at the delicious aroma. Her mother gave her another longing look, kissed her gently on the cheek, and left, speaking to the grandmother briefly in hushed tones. They whispered too quietly for Constance to hear.

Constance’s grandmother came to the bed slowly and took a seat. Will you do my hair, child? she asked, her voice slightly shaking. Constance nodded in silence. She unbraided her grandmother’s silver hair, which fell in waves down to her waist. Her grandmother had retained her beauty even in her old age. Her skin seemed to glow and her eyes were a deep blue. You had that dream again, didn’t you, child? Constance stopped dead; her fingers trembled as she saw the man pulling the child into darkness. Not speaking, she continued to plait.

He is real. The legend of the princess is real, Constance.

Her fingers stopping again, Constance whispered, Shush, you remember what mother said. She told you never to speak about it.

Her grandmother snorted. Your mother is an idiot. Never had Constance heard her grandmother say that. I am sorry, child, but she is. The legend is true.

Constance sighed. There was no point in arguing with her grandmother. After all, she was as stubborn as her mother. Constance wished she had never told her grandmother about her dreams because, ever since she had, her grandmother had told her the same tale of a princess who fell in love with a demon. Her grandmother claimed that their family was connected to the princess from long ago. Her mother thought it was all a load of rubbish, and whenever her grandmother started to speak about it, she would sigh and walk out of the house.

Despite her fever, the day went quickly for Constance, and she watched as her father came home exhausted after his eighteen-hour shift at the factory. He was the factory foreman, so he got paid quite a bit more than the average worker, but the hours were harsh and the environment was tough. The factory made items as diverse as perfumes and tableware, and its products were all the rage in London. The Nevermore name was famous not only in England but the whole world, partially attributable to the owner, the handsome bachelor Earl Nevermore.

Every woman in London wanted to be his wife, and every man wanted to be him. He even had the ear of the Queen and seldom was seen in public aside from when the Queen forced him out of hiding.

Constance sighed as she heard the bells toll in the distance, sounding out midnight. A carriage rattled past the little house. Her parents were poor, for all their hard work; they could just barely afford living in this cramped house, where she had to share a room with her mother, father, and grandmother. The fire in the corner went out, but in the light of the moon, she could make out her mother’s rising chest. She relaxed as the sound of her mother’s breathing – slowly and steady. Constance closed her eyes. As she did so, the image of the man standing in the pool of moonlight floated into focus. His jet-black hair billowed gently in the breeze. His eyes focused on her, swirling silver and gold. A cruel smile curled his lips. Her breath caught and her heart skipped as his gaze captured hers; then he turned back to the girl Constance had seen in her dream, and he dragged her away into the darkness. Constance screamed, desperately trying to reach