Gatehaven Read online

  A dark, gothic novel with interesting characters and a strong Christian thread woven through it. Gatehaven is a wonderful read for lovers of gothic novels, and I am one. Thank you, Molly Noble Bull, for this page-turner.

  —LENA NELSON DOOLEY IS THE MULTI-AWARD-WINNING AUTHOR

  OF THE MCKENNA’S DAUGHTERS SERIES AND

  LOVE FINDS YOU IN GOLDEN, NEW MEXICO

  I never read fiction . . . until I read Gatehaven. I invite you to take the journey of this adventure. You will go places and even learn something along the way. It is enjoyable reading, and I especially liked the adventurous settings and spiritually enlightening plot. A definite hit and one book you will want to read!

  —JEFF HARSHBARGER IS THE FOUNDER OF REFUGE MINISTRIES

  AND HELPED OCCULTISTS COME TO JESUS CHRIST FOR OVER

  A DECADE. AS A FORMER SATANIST, HE AUTHORED DANCING

  WITH THE DEVIL (CHARISMA HOUSE) AND FROM DARKNESS

  TO LIGHT (BRIDGE LOGOS). HARSHBARGER HAS APPEARED ON

  TBN, DAYSTAR NETWORK, THE 700 CLUB, AND THE MIRACLE

  CHANNEL. HIS WEBSITE IS WWW.REFUGEMINISTRIES.CC

  Molly Noble Bull certainly knows how to grab the reader right from the start. While her previous books were directed mostly at Christian women, her plot line in Gatehaven seeks a broader audience through arcane mysteries, spiritual intrigue, along with her telltale use of romance to satisfy her fans. New readers, as well as old, will be fascinated by her relatable characters and well-conceived plotline where a young Christian girl, caught within Europe’s nobility, must face down “the wiles of the devil”—advanced through centuries-old occult rituals, crystal ball gazing, and amidst gothic imagery of medieval castles with the hidden secrets of the Knights Templar lurking about. Well done, Molly!

  —S. DOUGLAS WOODWARD IS THE AUTHOR OF POWER QUEST:

  AMERICA’S OBSESSION WITH THE PARANORMAL,

  AND SIX OTHER BOOKS ON ESCHATOLOGY,

  ALTERNATE HISTORY, AND SPIRITUAL WARFARE

  Gatehaven by Molly Noble Bull is a dark and scary Gothic novel set in Europe and the state of South Carolina in 1784. Gatehaven will keep you reading to the very end, and yes, Molly is a distant cousin. But I would have read her exciting book anyway.

  —PHIL NOBLE IS A FAMILY HISTORIAN AND AUTHOR OF ARTICLES

  AND SPEECHES ON THE NOBLE AND CALHOUN FAMILIES

  FROM HIS HOME IN CHARLESTON, SOUTH CAROLINA.

  Gatehaven is an award-winning book and it’s not hard to figure out why—just read the first few chapters. It has a strong plot and strong characters, clean and tight writing, drama, suspense, and a style and drive that keeps the reader turning page after page after page. If this is your first introduction to Molly Noble Bull, you’re in for a lot of good reading and a lot of excitement. Highly recommended.

  —MURRAY PURA IS THE AUTHOR OF

  THE WINGS OF MORNING AND ASHTON PARK

  GATEHAVEN by Molly Noble Bull

  Published by Creation House

  A Charisma Media Company

  600 Rinehart Road

  Lake Mary, Florida 32746

  www.charismamedia.com

  This book or parts thereof may not be reproduced in any form, stored in

  a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form by any means—electronic,

  mechanical, photocopy, recording, or otherwise—without prior written

  permission of the publisher, except as provided by United States of America

  copyright law.

  All Scripture quotations are from the King James Version of the Bible.

  Design Director: Bill Johnson

  Cover design by Nathan Morgan

  Copyright © 2014 by Molly Noble Bull

  All rights reserved.

  Visit the author’s website: www.mollynoblebull.com.

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data: 2013951544

  International Standard Book Number: 978-1-62136-400-9

  E-book International Standard Book Number: 978-1-62136-401-6

  While the author has made every effort to provide accurate telephone

  numbers and Internet addresses at the time of publication, neither the

  publisher nor the author assumes any responsibility for errors or for

  changes that occur after publication.

  Put on the whole armor of God, that ye may be

  able to stand against the wiles of the devil.

  Ephesians 6:11

  DEDICATION

  This novel is dedicated to Charlie, Bret, Burt,

  Bren, Bethanny, Hailey, Dillard, Bryson, Grant,

  Grace, Jana, Linda, Angela, and Kathryn.

  But to God give the glory.

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  Author’s Historical Notes

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Contact the Author

  AUTHOR’S HISTORICAL NOTES

  FRANCE WAS A traditional ally of the Scots, and some French Protestants, called Huguenots, resettled in Scotland, marrying into Scottish clans. Eventually they found themselves in the middle of an uprising between the Scots and their enemy, England.

  After the union between England and Scotland, some Scots, called Jacobites, fought to undo what had already been done. However, their cause was finally lost on a moor at Culloden in 1746. Afterward, the Clans were forbidden to wear kilts and tartans. They were not allowed the playing of pipes or to own weapons of any kind. The Huguenots living in Scotland might have wondered what would be next, and it is not surprising that some searched for a new land where they could practice their religion in peace.

  Some Huguenots settled in Luss, Scotland, and Gatehaven is set in Luss in 1784. In the heart of Loch Lomond country, Luss is a real place and quite ancient—perhaps a thousand years old. However, most of the novel takes place in a haunting mansion in northern England, and the story ends in America and the state of South Carolina.

  Between 1754 and 1763 the English colonies, including South Carolina, were at war with the Indians and the French. The Long Cane Massacre of 1760 took place near present-day Troy, South Carolina, and it was mentioned briefly in Gatehaven.

  CHAPTER ONE

  A country estate in Northern England

  Early January 1784

  MONSIEUR ETIENNE GABEAU wasn’t his real name.

  His name was Leon Picard. But Etienne Gabeau was the only name he’d answered to since making England his home.

  He stood at a window in his sitting room, smiling inwardly as he looked out. “The haunting presence that surrounds your mansion always amazes me, my lord.”

  The young earl made no reply.

  “Christians who read the Bible might say the atmosphere at Gatehaven is quite the devil’s doing. We both know why.” Leon/Etienne’s laugh had mocking overtones. He pulled his dark cape closer to his thin, shriveled body. “It’s a bit chilly tonight. Surely you must have noticed.”

  “Of course I noticed.” The earl laughed from across the r
oom. “An icy rain was coming down when I arrived. You might have to put me in a spare bedroom for the night, Monsieur. And why did you mention the Bible? Who among our circle of friends pay any mind to it?”

  “A point well taken.” The Frenchman pushed back a curl from his eyes.

  His thick mass of dark curly hair had more white strands than black, making Leon look older than his forty-five years. But twenty years ago, he was called handsome.

  “Still,” Leon continued, “to the local villagers your estate is quite mysterious. It reminds me of structures I saw in France, growing up. And who can forget the red gate which gave Gatehaven its name?”

  “When did you learn of the red gate, Monsieur Gabeau?”

  “I learned the secret when your late father was the earl. You were but a boy then.”

  Lightning cracked the night sky. Thunder boomed.

  “I saw it again, my lord.”

  “Really?” The earl’s weak smile indicated that he was mildly interested. “What did you see?”

  “Gatehaven . . . during that flash of lightning.”

  Someday I will have Rachel and own Gatehaven as well, Leon vowed mentally.

  The earl cleared his throat. “I’ve decided not to go to Scotland after all, Monsieur.”

  “Not go?” Leon turned around in order to face him. “You must go.” Leon Picard limped to his high-backed leather chair near the fireplace, tapping his cane on the pine floor as he went. “You will go.”

  “I beg your pardon.”

  “I said that you will go.” Leon hooked his cane on the arm of his chair.

  Then he sat down and reached for the portrait on the small table beside him. “I demand it.” Leon’s words, spoken with his usual French accent, hung heavy in the air.

  The earl didn’t answer.

  Leon thought that Edward Wellesley, the Earl of Northon, looked stiff—as if he’d suddenly turned to stone. At last the earl gazed at Leon from a chair facing his.

  “Demand?” The muscles around the young earl’s mouth slowly relaxed. “You have crossed the line, sir. Besides, I cannot go to Scotland. I have pressing business here. However, a French gentleman like you should enjoy such a journey.” His smile was edged in sarcasm. “Why not go yourself?”

  “On these crippled legs? I think not. Besides, she would never receive me.”

  “I am sorry. But it would be impossible for me to leave the country at this time.”

  Leon turned, gazing at the fire flickering and popping in the hearth. “You want the money, do you not?” He looked back at the earl like a hungry cat that cornered a mouse.

  “But of course. You know I need money to pay my gambling debts.”

  “Precisely.” Leon didn’t miss the fleeting expression of fear that crossed the younger man’s face. “I recently bought all your debts. I will destroy them all, but only if you do exactly what I say. At dawn on the morrow, you will set out for Scotland. And do dress warmly, my young friend. It will be cold out.”

  The earl’s forehead wrinkled. “You say her last name is Aimee, and she lives in the village of Luss. But how would an English earl meet a Frenchwoman living in Scotland?”

  “I believe your family owns a hunting lodge near Luss, does it not?”

  The earl shrugged. “Even if I saw her on the street or near the Loch, I would never recognize her. What is she called?”

  Leon’s quick laugh held a trace of mockery. “In France, she was called Rachel. I see no reason why that would not be her name today.” Leon grabbed the pearl handle of his cane with his left hand, leaned forward, and handed the portrait to Edward. “Look at this portrait carefully. Burn it into your brain. When you have brought her to me, your debts will be paid in full—and not a moment sooner.”

  “But how can I convince her to come to England? I don’t even know the woman.”

  “You are a fine-looking young man with your gold-colored locks and blue eyes. I am sure you will find a way.” Leon rubbed his aching knee. “Romance her. That should meet with success. Tell her you love her and plan to marry her. Women like that. And my spies tell me that she is not wedded at the moment.”

  “You have known me long enough to know, sir, that I am not the marrying kind.”

  “Have you no wits about you?” Leon sent the earl a harsh glance. “I don’t want you to actually marry her—only promise that you will.”

  “I cannot see how . . . ”

  “Tell her you want her to come to England to meet your family before the engagement is formally announced.” He smiled. “Yes, that would be the thing. She is a peasant woman, but well educated. Apparently, at one time her father was a teacher and a historian of sorts; she will understand that you must have your mother and grandmother school her in the ways of the quality before she becomes a part of it. And do smile a lot, Lord Northon. Let her see those sparkling teeth of yours.”

  “I will do as you say. But I doubt it can possibly work.”

  “It will work. Or you could find yourself in debtor’s prison.” Leon sent the earl another smile—long and slow and filled with hidden meanings that only Leon and Lord Northon could know. “And on your way back to England, stop by the chapel near Edinburgh your grandmother told you about. Do you know the one I mean?”

  “Of course.”

  “I should like to hear the latest news from there. One can never learn too much about the craft—as I am sure you would agree.”

  CHAPTER TWO

  Luss, Scotland—four months later

  MAMA, PAPA.” SHANNON Aimee stood with her back to the fireplace—barely able to hold in her desire to shout her good news from the housetops. “I have been offered a proposal of marriage, and I accepted. He is coming here on the morrow to ask for my hand.”

  “So, Rachel Shannon.” A quick smile lighted her father’s face. “Ian Colquhoun finally asked you to be his wife.”

  Why did her father always call her Rachel Shannon? Mama was Rachel, and he knew she liked to be called Shannon. And why did Papa assume she was marrying Ian?

  “Tell Ian that your mother and I could not be more pleased.”

  “And about time, too.” Her mother smiled. “Ian has loved you all your life.”

  “I have no wish to marry Ian. He plans to become a man of the cloth, and I would never make a pastor’s wife.” Shannon took a step toward her parents, seated side by side on a blue settee so faded with age its color had all but disappeared. “With your permission, I hope to marry the earl—the Earl of Northon—as soon as my baby sister or brother is born.”

  “The Earl of Northon? When did he ask you to be his wife?”

  “Last night, Mama, after the service at our church. You saw me talking to him in plain sight. And I promised to travel to England with him to meet his family.”

  “No!” Her mother popped up, her hands trembling. “That is out of the question. I will not allow it.”

  “Will not allow it?” Shannon couldn’t believe what she had just heard. What could have caused her mother to be so upset? “Why, Mama? I thought you and Papa liked the earl.”

  “I said the English earl was handsome. But Ian Colquhoun is handsome, too.”

  “Did you refuse to let me go to England because you want me to marry Ian? Is that the real reason?”

  Her mother shook her head. “I cannot allow you to go to England because I cannot go along as your chaperone—even if the baby were not on the way. It is much too dangerous.”

  “Now Rachel.” Her father reached out and took her mother’s hand. “What happened in England was a long time ago.” He gently pulled Mama back down to the settee. Then he put his arm around her. “I agree with your concerns. But England should be safe for any of us now.”

  “But Javier.”

  “Do not worry, my love. With the baby coming and all, it would not be good for your health.”

  Mama crossed her arms over her chest. “I cannot stop worrying.”

  Papa gazed at her mother with gentle, comforting eyes. �
�Have you forgotten that we are under the shadow of the Almighty and that one day we will enter the pearly gates of heaven?”

  His voice sounded as kind as he was. But Shannon noted a wrinkle on his forehead above his dark eyebrows.

  “We moved here because we thought Scotland was a safe place for Huguenots to live,” her father said. “But Scotland is not fit for Scots or Huguenots since the British took over. Were it not for the fighting across the sea, we would have moved to Charles Towne years ago—where your Uncle Henri lives today. Henri thinks we should emigrate now, and I want us to leave as soon as possible.”

  But did anyone care what Shannon thought or wanted? She’d made it clear that she wished to marry the earl and move to his estate in England. But was anybody listening?

  “In the colonies, we will practice our faith in peace.” Her father hesitated before going on. “I have known some good Englishmen and some who are bad. Now I also know the earl.

  “With a few exceptions, I have no love for the British or the earl you say you love, Rachel Shannon. He talks to you before and after church meetings but seldom speaks to us. But even if I approved of him, I would never allow my only daughter to make such a journey without a chaperone.” He gazed down at her mother’s large belly. “Obviously, your mother cannot travel now. Your grandmother would not be of much help either since she speaks mostly French. Besides, as I said, we plan to sail to the colonies as soon as the baby is able to travel. We expect you to go along with us.”

  “Papa, you know I would never consider going to England until after my baby brother or sister is born. I made that clear to the earl. His aunt, Miss Foster, lives with other members of his family at the earl’s hunting lodge near here, and she has promised to serve as my chaperone. Miss Foster is coming with the earl when he comes to ask for my hand, and I know you will like her. She and her personal maid will ride along in the carriage with us. So as you can see, everything has been arranged.”

  “Why must you go to England?” her mother asked. “It seems to me that the proper thing would be for his family to come to Scotland—to meet us.”