Cursed

Cursed

Cover Art: Purchased from Jimmy Thomas
2013

Cover Art Designer: Neil Reese 2013

Proofreaders:
Sarah Willoughby, Sara Marion, and Anna
Rhodes

Copyright, Aubrey Brown. All rights
reserved.

Image Copyright, Aubrey Brown 2013

No part of this book may be reproduced in any
form or by any means electronic or mechanical, including
information storage and retrieval systems, without the prior
written consent of the author.

Exceptions will be made for reviewers or
bloggers, who may quote short excerpts in reviews.

Contact:
[email protected]

Cursed is a work of fiction.

Names, characters, places, and events are
purely the imagination of the author.

A Note from the Author:

It takes many months of long, hard hours to
create a novel like this.

Please respect the work of the author and all
those who support me

by purchasing additional copies if you wish
to share.

Thanks, and enjoy!

In loving dedication:

To my Husband, David, you put up with a lot
of neglect from my staring at my computer

screen, and I thank you for that.

I love you so very much, Husbear!

To the most awesome cover designer ever:

Neil Reese

To the best Facebook Pages, which have helped
promote my work:

Sarah’s Book Blog, Marie Lavender, and
Paranormal Romance and Authors who Rock!

And my entire followers on Facebook!

https://www.facebook.com/pages/Author-Aubrey-Brown/461280683926616

If you would like more information about me,
you can visit my above Facebook's page or

www.aubreybrown.yolasite.com

Prologue

Scotland, near The Valley of the Tweed,
Campbell Manor, 1825

Addie Myra Campbell sat in distraught anger
as her best friend’s father sat in accusation over her intended’s
dealings with his unwed, pregnant daughter. She had always been
afraid of the man, for he had a horrid scar that ran along his left
cheek.

Addie tried in vain to see her friend,
Beatrice McIntosh’s eyes, but as ever she would never meet them.
Feeling the tears well up her own eyes, she remained silent, for
her betrothed was being persecuted for fathering her friend’s
baby.

“Ye mean tae say, boy, tha’ ye didna’ tup me
Beatrice?!” Mister McIntosh bellowed.

“I ne'er touched yer daughter, McIntosh. The
lass be lyin’,” Conall insisted.

Whimpering came from where Beatrice sat, and
Addie could take no more. She stood from the settee and quit the
room, to a chorus of denials and orders to stay. She could not
simply sit there any longer knowing there was ever a possibility
that the love of her life and future husband, had fathered a baby
with her childhood best friend.

Addie Myra Campbell had been engaged to the
Highlander, who lived on the other side of the loch for as long as
she could remember. Their families had come to financial
arrangement years ago when Addie was in her cradle, and Conall was
in his educational years.

Her family being of firm influence in London
and her father a viscount, they required a strong match in the
Scottish Highlands. Her brother marrying a woman of Irish decent
two-years ago, left Addie to wed her Highlander.

She entered the great attic of her father’s
massive home and curled her knees under her chin in the farthest
corner across the room and let the tears of anguish fall. She had
fallen in love with him on first site of her youngest memory. The
man was tall and muscled bound with hair that was long and dark
brown, and eyes the color of the loch during a storm, green and
turbulent. She chased him across the country side to his chagrin.
When finally at the end of the summer, going into her seventeenth
year, she decided, upon returning home, she would change her form
of behavior. She was clearly acting foolish and youthful and Conall
was older than she. He needed a more cultured wife, and she had
lessons befitting her station in life. Perhaps now was the time to
put practice into actions. No longer would she smile largely at
him, nor would she stare at him in wonderment. She was not to be
obsessed with her Highlander.

He, on the other hand, ignored her until this
last visit when he had seen the beautiful woman she had grown into
it. Addie had developed into her figure and stood tall in her
carriage. She had long raven-black hair, peaches and cream skin,
and violet-colored eyes. The moment they reunited, Conall said he
was instantly enchanted with her. He began courting her, befitting
a woman of her station. It did not take long for her to acquiesce
to his suit and declare their mutual love.

Sometimes she felt she loved him so much that
her heart was about to burst forth from her chest. That was why
when Beatrice found herself with child and claimed her betrothed
the father, she had been in absolute torment. She and Conall had
not spoken upon the subject for she had been avoiding his company.
She thought she was depleted of tears, but apparently she was
not.

The room was stifled and too hot for her
itchy skin, so she stood and opened the great window looking out to
the deadening fall of the grounds of the massive Manor. The
highlands were lush and green, even in the dark of the night. As a
child, she loved running through the lands and watching as the
animals came to and fro on their property. The same place she and
Beatrice played as children. Now it would seem she was betrayed by
two people whom she thought loved her. Beatrice had never said a
word about her and Conall, but Addie had noticed her act
suspiciously lately cancelling teas and nature walks.

The wind caressed her wet face as she gasped
for a breath in a vain attempt to steam her tear flow. How could
this have happened? She loved him, why would Beatrice claim he
fathered the baby if he had not? She felt weak and unsure.

“Ach, sweetin’, please donna' carries on sa.
Ye ken I wouldna’ e'er tup, Beatrice.”

Feeling her spine snap into place she turned
toward the voice of her current affliction.

“I want to believe that, Conall. However, why
would Beatrice say you had intercourse with her, and then came up
expecting? I love you so much, that I feel as if my heart is
breaking into two shredded pieces. My resolve has been cut to
ribbons.”

Breaking down and starting to cry yet again,
she heard her Highlander curse in Gaelic and walk over to her
crumpled position, pick up her slight body, and enfold her into his
massive arms.

“Addie, angeal, ye canna' carries on sa. I
lo’e ye with all o’ me heart. Ye ken this much. I didna' touch her.
Ye ‘ave tae believe me.”

Addie stopped her shaking and looked deeply
into his green eyes and saw nothing but sincerity and love. She had
no choice but to believe him. However, her heart was still broken
over the fact her best friend had lied about Conall. Why would she
do such a thing?

“Why would she tell a false truth, Conall?
Why?”

“I donna' ken, bu’ I lo’e ye,” was his only
reply.

He then placed his sweet lips upon hers to
seal his avowal of love.

“Isna’ this a cherished moment.”

Addie and Conall looked up to see Beatrice in
the doorway with her father who just spoke.

Conall stood and helped her to her feet. He
then pointed his finger at Beatrice and said, “Ye ken I didna’
touch ye. Why would ye put Addie through this?”

“Father, he be no’…” Beatrice started.

“Enough! Ye will wed me daughter an’ do right
by her bairn,” he bellowed.

Addie began to cry once again as Conall left
her to walk over to the other man. Beatrice was crying as well.

“Ye ken this canna' be a true, yer own
daughter was jest abou’ tae refute yer claim.”

“The lass donna ken wha’ she be sayin’,” he
replied.

“I willna’ marry her. I intend tae marry,
Addie,” Conall stood firm.

“Ye, lad, be makin’ a grave mistake,” Mister
McIntosh exclaimed.

The room began to take on a Hellish glow as
the older man began to chant in a crazed tongue.

“What’re ye doin’?!” Conall bellowed.

Addie heard herself screech just as Beatrice
exclaimed, “Father, no!”

The massive manor shook as an eerie mist
began to circle Conall’s legs. Addie tried to run to him, but she
was thrown back against the wall. Winds from inside the room began
to whip against her face as she watched the spot where her
betrothed once stood, was now empty, devoid of any life.

“Father, wha’ ‘ave ye done?!” Beatrice
screamed.

Addie ran to where Conall once stood and
crumpled upon the floor where the charred wood was the only
evidence of her beloved.

“He said he wouldna’ marry ye. I had tae do
wha’ any da’ would ‘ave done,” he explained.

Addie was beyond reaching. She was far from
any emotion she had ever felt before. Where were her father and
mother? She needed them as she needed her Conall.

“He was no’ the father. I told ye tha’, bu’
ye wouldna’ accept, Ian’s suit.”

Feeling her heart break over again at the
lies and deceit of her best friend and her father, she screamed to
the heavens.

As she watched shame fill Beatrice’s eyes,
she looked to Beatrice’s father and asked, “Where is he?”

“He be dead an’ gone, Addie. Ye be better
off. Ye needs a strong man,” he stated.

Feeling angry, she stood and began to beat
her fists against his chest.

“How could you? How could you? Where are my
mother and father?”

“They be entranced in the parlor me dear.
‘Twouldna’ do fer ‘em tae sees me special talents.”

“Father, oh, father. Addie, I am sorry. So
vera remorseful," Beatrice ended in a whisper.

Feeling dead inside, she walked over to the
window and let the tears fall. She looked down to the ground of the
land she played on as a child during her summer months. The days
she spent running after Conall, the nights she spent dreaming of
being his wife. It was too much. All of it was so overwhelming.

She felt her body pitch forward as a scream,
and a bellow followed. Whether she fell or was pushed, she had no
care. She was as dead as her intended was. She would never come to
terms with her loss.

As the wind rushed through her hair, she
swore she saw Conall by her side, screaming for her. It was
fanciful, for he was gone, and so was she.

Watching as the earth came quickly to meet
her, she breathed in deeply and said, “Conall.” And that was her
last thought.

Chapter One

America, New York City, present day,
International Airport bound for Scotland.

Addie Renee Campbell sat in her airport seat
waiting for her flight number to be called. She could have never
guessed that she would discover she was the sole owner of a manor
in Scotland near the Valley of the Tweed. Her uncle had passed away
leaving the entire estate to her. He had no children, and she was
his sole surviving relative.

Addie was an author trying to come up with
her third best-selling novel. However, she found since she broke up
with her boyfriend, that her spark and muse were completely gone.
So when she received the letter and title to the lands, she jumped
at the chance to go to Scotland and stay within the old walls to
find inspiration. Her publisher and agent were breathing down her
neck to produce her next novel.

Her break up with her boyfriend had been
nauseating enough to send any creative process into a tail spin.
Apparently, her avowal to stay a virgin until her wedding night was
met with a deep discord from Steven. It was enough to send him into
the arms of Stacy. Her best friend since she applied for college or
her now ex-best friend.

When she had been taking things, she had
purchased for his new space, the hooker in question dressed, as
Steven pleaded with her. Telling her they had been drunk, and it
was a mistake. Stacy had of course run out of the apartment as
Addie ignored her pleas to not be angry. However, when you walk in
on your boyfriend and best friend doing it doggy style while said
boyfriend was slapping said best friend’s ass, it was hard to see
beyond his massive family crest ring leaving an M impression on her
reddened skin. The son of a bitch, was enjoying it so much they had
not heard her walk in until a plate hit the wall next to them. That
was the moment Steven started acting contrite.

His words were still ringing in her ears,
“You cannot expect me to stay sexless, while you decide whether or
not you want to sleep with me before we get married. That is not
acceptable. We have been dating for over a year!”