The Hidden Legacy Read online

  Table of Contents

  COVER

  COPYRIGHT

  TITLE PAGE

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  PROLOGUE

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Copyright

  Copyright © Ellen Dugan 2017

  Edited by Katherine Pace

  Editing and Formatting by Libris in CAPS

  No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any other form or by any means electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise without the express written permission of the publisher.

  Published by Ellen Dugan

  All rights reserved to the Author

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

  The Hidden Legacy

  By

  Ellen Dugan

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  A special thanks goes to my family, crew of editors, and beta readers.

  For the fans of the Legacy Of Magick series. As requested, here is Hannah’s story as a standalone! I hope you enjoy the little side trip to Massachusetts, meeting another magickal family, and learning about the Osborne and Pogue legacies.

  Other Titles by Ellen Dugan

  THE LEGACY OF MAGICK SERIES

  Legacy Of Magick, Book #1

  Secret Of The Rose, Book #2

  Message Of The Crow, Book #3

  Beneath An Ivy Moon, Book #4

  Under The Holly Moon, Book #5

  The Hidden Legacy, Book #6

  Spells Of The Heart, Book #7

  Sugarplums, Spells & Silver Bells, Book #8

  A Legacy Of Magick Novella (October 2017)

  Magick & Magnolias, Book #9 (Coming 2018)

  THE GYPSY CHRONICLES

  Gypsy At Heart, Book 1

  Gypsy Spirit, Book 2 (Coming 2018)

  The Posey Ring Charm

  For the true of heart, the poesy ring is but a boon,

  For all others, the emerald surely spells their doom.

  If your lover is untrue, the stone turns a cloudy green,

  Should the jewel stay bright and clear, then many blessings will it bring.

  To a steadfast soul the legacy passes, heavy though it may be,

  To become bewitched and beloved, blessed by the moon, stars, and sea.

  -Ellen Dugan

  The Hidden Legacy

  The human heart has hidden treasures, In secret kept, in silence revealed;

  The thoughts, the hopes, the dreams, the pleasures,

  Whose charms were broken if revealed.

  -Charlotte Bronte

  PROLOGUE

  “Only the true of heart can hold the ring.”

  I blinked in surprise at my grandmother, her comment had been out of the blue. Alone in the hospital room with her, I debated whether or not I should call my parents back in or buzz for a nurse. It was a horrible thing to see the woman, who’d been so feisty and tough, brought down to bedridden and frail.

  Was the medicine they’d given her earlier causing hallucinations? I wondered. She’d been ill for weeks and the doctors had advised us to say our goodbyes.

  “It’s okay Grandma,” I said, keeping my voice low and soothing. “Don’t push yourself. Try and rest.” I sat beside her on the bed and laid my hand gently on top of hers.

  “I’ll have plenty of time to rest, soon enough.” Her eyes opened and she focused on me.

  “Hi Grandma Oz.” I smiled at her.

  Janet Osborne’s blue eyes were lucid and aware. “Hannah, it will come to you. You’re the next in the Osborne line.”

  “Sure, okay,” I said, trying to soothe her.

  “Watch for the pirate,” she said. “You’ll know him when you see him.”

  “Do you mean Eli? He dresses like a pirate every day,” I reminded her. “Your great-grandson sleeps in his pirate hat.”

  “I love that little boy,” she said of my soon-to-be four year old. “You’ve done well there.”

  “He’ll be here to visit you this afternoon,” I promised, brushing her hair back from her face.

  “The pirate, Hannah. Watch for your beloved.”

  “I will. Absolutely.” Poor thing, they must have whacked her up with some really good drugs, I thought.

  “It’s not the drugs. I am not hallucinating, I’ll have you know,” she snapped. Outside the hospital, a storm began to gather.

  Thunder rolled and I smiled. “I never said you were.”

  “No, but you thought it.”

  “Stay out of my head, Grandma,” I said automatically.

  She managed to glare at me. “If there was ever a time to be indulgent of an eccentric old Crone, it would be now.” Her gown slid off of one shoulder and revealed a faded butterfly tattoo.

  I automatically straightened the gown and glanced around to double check that we were still alone. “The Crone is a respected and revered aspect of the triple goddess,” I said quietly. “You taught me that.”

  “You’re strong. Always have been,” she said. “You use your gifts and intuition well, assisting your friend Edmund with his investigations...”

  “I’d like to think so.”

  “I know so,” she said, “and I’m thankful I was here long enough to see you go from Maiden to Mother.”

  The wind picked up and howled past the window of her room. I tilted my head towards the window and the wind that rattled the glass. “Is that you?” I asked, trying to make her smile.

  My grandmother shut her eyes. “I don’t have the control over my powers that I used to...”

  I focused on the wind screaming outside, and the intensity lessened, and the rattling stopped. “There,” I said. “That’s better.”

  “You’ve come into your own in the past few years. I’m proud of you. I only wish I had longer. I would have liked to see Eli grow up.”

  I tried to smile. Tried to be brave. “Grandma, don’t talk like that.”

  “You need to pay attention to me now,” she insisted, her voice going up.

  “Don’t get upset,” I said. “I’m right here. Do you want me to call Mom back in?” I shifted, planning to go and get my mother.

  “Listen to me!” Her hand clamped down on mine. “It won’t go to your sister, or your brother,” she said. “The legacy must be handed down to you.”

  “What legacy?” I asked, easing back down beside her.

  My grandmother coughed a little and I offered her some water. I held the straw to her lips, waited while she sipped. “Better?” I asked.

  She nodded her head. “The Osborne legacy,” she said, sounding desperate. “It all started with an ancestor named Felicity…and our family kept it hidden and safe for two hundred years. From my grandfather to my father, to me, and then to your mother. She’s been holding it these last few months. But now it’s your turn. Your duty.”

  “My turn? My duty to do what?”

  “It’s your responsibility to hold the jewel now.”

  “The jewel?”

  “The emerald. It’s enchanted...bewitched and set in a silver ring,” she said, and I felt a jolt go all the way to my toes.

  “I’ve never seen you wear an emerald ring.” My mind raced as I considered what she was telling me.

  “It’s not merely a ring, Hannah. It’s our legacy. There’s a charm, a spell that was laid upon it over two hundred years ago.”

  “By whom?” I asked, trying to clarify.

  “Felicity,” my grandmother insisted as rain began to beat against the windows. “You must remember.”

  “Felicity,” I repeated. “I’ll remember.”

  “Mark my words.” My grandmother took a careful breath. “The poesy ring, for the true of heart is but a boon,” she chanted. “For all others, the emerald surely spells their doom.”

  The hair rose on the back of my neck. “Go on,” I said.

  My grandmother’s gaze was steady as she linked her hands with mine. “To a steadfast soul the legacy passes, heavy though it may be; to become bewitched and beloved, blessed by the moon, stars, and sea.”

  The summer storm broke. Lightning flashed and thunder shook the building. The monitors at her bedside began to beep and ring. The shrill sounds had my heart racing. My parents came rushing back into the room, and I heard my father shouting for a nurse.

  “Grandma!” I squeezed her hands. “Stay with me!”

  “I love you Hannah,” she said.

  They were the last words she ever spoke.

  CHAPTER ONE

  I stood in the bright summer sunshine on the high hill that overlooked the harbor of Danversport, Massachusetts, holding my son’s hand. It was one month from the day that my grandmother had died, and my family was still adjusting to a world without Grandma Oz in it.

  I was still adjusting to it. I thought, and bent down to place a bouquet of daisies on the grave. A yellow butterfly fluttered past and I smiled. My grandmother always had a real affection for butterflies. She’d been an Air Witch, and had surrounded herself with all things associated with that element. From the canaries she had as pets,
to the butterfly garden she’d planted for my mother, the bees she’d kept, even the tattoo she’d had on her shoulder.

  “Mama?” Eli asked, tugging on my fingers. Today he was wearing a pirate themed t-shirt, denim shorts, and sneakers. His tricorn hat was clutched respectfully over his heart as we stood beside the grave.

  “Yes, baby?”

  “Is Nana Oz watching over us?”

  I smiled, watching as the butterfly flew farther away. “I’m sure she is.”

  “That’s what Pops said.” Eli swung our hands back and forth.

  I grinned down at him. “Well if Pops says so, it must be true,” I agreed, thinking of my father.

  “I like seeing the boats!” Eli smiled at me. His first baby tooth had come out the week before. He squinted up at the sun, his pale blonde hair waved in the breeze. His eyes, the same denim blue as mine, were curious as he viewed the old cemetery and out to the port below.

  “Is my daddy buried here?” he asked casually.

  Caught off guard, I glanced down at him. “No. He’s not,” I said, trying to answer him as simply as he’d asked.

  “He’s in ‘lington?” Eli struggled to pronounce the word.

  “Arlington,” I said.

  “Cause he was a solider.” Eli nodded.

  “That’s right,” I agreed. “He was a soldier.” Eli didn’t remember his father, he’d only been a baby when John had been killed in action. I ran my hand over Eli’s bright sunny hair, shades lighter than mine. The pale blonde tresses my son had inherited from his father.

  John had been a good father to Eli for the short time he’d had with him. I sighed, and wondered for the millionth time if I was doing everything right. Being both mother and father to my little boy.

  My worrying seemed for nothing, as Eli changed topics in the blink of an eye. He tucked his hat under one arm, pulled his little spy glass out of his back pocket, aimed it at the port below and chattered on about boats, the upcoming fourth of July fireworks, and his all consuming obsession, pirates.

  “Ready to go, sailor?” I asked him.

  “I’m watching the ships, mom,” he answered. “The bad guys might be planning to plunder the port.”

  I rolled my eyes. I really needed to have a talk with my father about watching old pirate movies with Eli. It was only making the pirate fixation worse. “That’s a good idea,” I agreed. “But maybe we should take a walk down at the marina.” Eli’s head snapped up at my words. “That way you could be sure that we are prepared, in case of an invasion.”

  “Aye, aye!” He clapped his hat on his head and scrambled for the car.

  The drive to the marina was a short one, and I’d barely put the car in park before Eli had unbuckled himself from his booster seat.

  “Hang on,” I warned him.

  I went around the car and opened the door for him. He hopped down, still wearing his hat, grabbed my hand and began tugging me along towards the marina. We walked along the little boardwalk and viewed the boats in dock. There were all sorts of boats here. Pleasure boats, yachts, fishing boats, house boats, sailboats, and cabin cruisers.

  Eli beamed as he walked along. I kept his hand in mine, and movement out of the corner of my eye caught my attention. A man stood on the deck of a fancy sailboat, checking the rigging. His dark blonde hair was tousled, curly, and he had a mustache and goatee. He wore long khaki shorts and an unbuttoned blue chambray shirt which framed a strip of very nicely tanned and toned chest.

  “Wow,” I said under my breath, doing my best not to ogle the eye candy that was a few yards away.

  “Mama,” Eli breathed. “It’s a pirate!” He pointed directly at the same man I was pretending not to stare at.

  “Eli.” I gave his fingers a light squeeze. “He’s just a man working on his boat.”

  “Nuh-uh.” Eli shook his head. “That’s a pirate.”

  The man looked up at Eli’s words. His sunglasses shielded his eyes, and he flashed a lopsided grin, but it was gone almost as quickly as I’d caught it.

  The breeze blew past him and towards me. As it washed over me I picked up on the scent of the harbor, and the tiniest bit of psychic information about the man. Intelligence, shrewdness, and maybe...destiny. My stomach flipped.

  Eli stood and stared at the man. I tried not to do the same. Instead, I shook off the psychic information, sending a friendly smile in his direction. The man nodded in response. Then he returned his attention to his boat.

  I felt a momentary pang at not being striking enough to hold the man’s attention, but I shrugged it off, reminding myself to be happy with what I had. Neither short nor tall, I was a curvy five foot seven. My hair tended to misbehave, so I let it grow past my shoulders, and its only redeeming quality was that it was a nice shade of honey blonde. My eyes were a denim blue, nothing exotic, and nothing that inspired men to passion.

  I was comfortable with my looks, but they were dead average—apparently all the gorgeous genes had gone to my older and younger siblings.

  The breeze shifted and the aroma of fried food wafted over me. “How about we go get some lunch, at Mona’s?” I tried to distract Eli.

  “Can I have chicken fingers?”

  “Yes, you can.”

  “Let’s go!” Eli tugged me along to the little dockside lobster shack down from the pier. We walked to a simple building clad in weathered wood faded to silvery-gray. It faced the marina and boasted a smattering of umbrella covered, rustic picnic tables. A huge bright red lobster was painted on the side of the building. Mona’s Lobster Shack had been around forever, and what it lacked in style, it more than made up for with the food.

  The glass window slid open. “What can I get you?” asked the teenager working the front.

  After placing our orders, Eli and I sat under the shade of a picnic table umbrella, enjoying the cooler breeze off the water. The seats gave us a great view of the port, and I could also still see that man working on his boat in the distance. Not that I was interested anyway...I’d learned my lesson about mingling with outsiders. Very few could accept anything beyond what they considered the norm. The wind toyed with my hair and I tucked a few wayward strands behind my ear.

  But still, I tried to remember the last time any guy had made me perk up and notice him. It had been a while. The only men in my life these days was my father, my best friend Edmund, and of course the little one currently wearing a pirate hat and using his toy spyglass to watch the horizon.

  “Keep a weather eye…” Eli mumbled to himself.

  I grinned at him, snuck my phone out of my purse and took a few pictures of my boy with the marina in the background. He was so damn cute. And growing up so fast. I tried not to feel sad that in a year, he’d be starting Kindergarten.

  “Here you go.” Mona Trask, owner and cook of Mona’s Lobster Shack, dropped off the baskets herself. “Chicken tenders and fries for Eli, and a lobster roll and coleslaw for you.”

  “French fries!” Eli set his spyglass on the table and pounced on his lunch.

  The scent of the lobster roll hit, and my mouth watered. “Thanks, Mona.”

  “Would you tell your folks I’ll be in to pick up my spice order tomorrow before the holiday?”

  “Sure,” I said, and proceeded to squirt ketchup on the fries for my son.

  “Your sister Kayleigh is the only person I trust to mix my spices for my recipes,” Mona said.

  I smiled. “She’ll be happy to hear you say that.”

  “Seriously,” Mona said, “your parents have the best spice shop north of Boston.”

  They did indeed, I thought. What had started as a tiny little store front when I’d been Eli’s age was now a booming local business. My parents specialized in bulk spices, teas and custom blends of spice mixes. “I’ll remind Kayleigh and she’ll make sure they are ready to go.”

  “Both the seasoned salt for the fries and the spices for the fish batter.” Mona reminded me.