Castle Walk

by Melissa Bowersock

  The last sips of tea were taken, the empty cups and few crumbs whisked away by the staff. When all trace of refreshment was cleared away, Peter stood, and the eight of them silently made their way to the west residence.

  As Harley unlocked the door, Sam produced two smudge sticks.

  “I’ll need you to help,” he told Lacey. “It’s a big area.”

  Lacey didn’t hide her surprise. You could have given me a little warning.

  Sam just grinned at her.

  Just inside the door, Sam motioned for all the others to stay put. “Lacey and I are going to purify the residence first,” he explained, “then we’ll address Cornelius directly. Please remain here for now, and I’ll let you know when we can all move into the bedroom.”

  With his small pocket lighter, Sam lit the first smudge stick, letting the flame blacken and curl the loose fibers as he blew on it gently. Once the fire caught and settled into a constant smolder, he passed the stick to Lacey and lit the second one.

  “You good?” he asked her softly.

  She hesitated, knowing he was asking if she was confident in the process. Cardinal points and corners, she thought.

  “Yes.”

  “Okay. I’ll take these rooms,” and he motioned toward the living room, dining room and kitchen, “and you take those.” The bedrooms.

  She swallowed. “Okay.”

  He touched the back of her hand with his fingertips. “You’ll be fine.”

  Sam went one way and she went the other. She held the smudge stick up at shoulder level so she could monitor the fragrant blue smoke. As she walked, it trailed behind her like a smoky veil. She moved into the first bedroom and put all her attention and intention into her actions.

  She started with the east, purifying that corner as she silently blessed the space, the room, the air. She offered up prayers to whatever powers that be to aid her and the spirits they sought to free, and was mindful about painting the room with smoke. From the east to the south to the west and north, she offered the smoke, offered her prayers and offered her love and good will to all who dwelled here. When she had made the circuit, she stood and scanned the room, leaving herself open to any sense of what else she might do.

  Nothing came to her.

  With some trepidation, she moved into the second bedroom. Rosalyn’s room. She moved into the easternmost corner and lifted the smudge stick high, letting the smoke float and dip around her. It coiled lazily and drifted up to the high ceiling.

  Lacey imagined it carrying love, forgiveness and redemption.

  Again she moved to the south, the west, the north, and repeated the procedure. At every stop she painted the air with the fragrant smell of cedar and watched the tendrils of smoke seek out every nook and crevice. Then she moved to the center of the room and blew smoke gently across the bare floor where Sam had said the bed was. She imagined it there, the place of secret, stolen love, the place of unbearable grief and guilt, the place of tortured death.

  Sighing, she turned back toward the door.

  The skin at the back of her neck prickled, the feeling of eyes on her. She pivoted slowly and stared intently through the gloom and the remnant smoke.

  Cornelius stood before her. Tall and straight, his black suit a sharp contrast to the stark white shirt, he might have been a soldier at attention. But although his demeanor was rigid, stoic, his eyes were soft and pleading. The dark gray orbs were starred with unshed tears.

  Lacey’s heart broke for him.

  Beyond the doorway, she heard the shuffle of many feet.

  “Sam,” she hissed out the side of her mouth. “Get in here.”

  She felt more than saw Sam in back of her, just behind her right shoulder. Why didn’t he step forward?

  “Talk to him, Lacey,” he said close to her ear.

  “Me?” Her voice was a squeak.

  She heard his soft chuckle. “Yes, you. You know what to do. Go on.”

  Swallowing, Lacey licked her suddenly dry lips. She cleared her throat to make sure she could project her voice.

  “Cornelius Trent,” she called out firmly. The gray eyes widened. “Yes, Cornelius, we know your name. We know who you are. We know your story.”

  On impulse, Lacey took a step closer to the ghost. “We know you loved Rosalyn. And we also know that love was returned, and was consummated.”

  The furtive look of surprise was clear to see, even on the hazy face.

  “It’s all right, Cornelius. You loved her, and she loved you. It’s natural for two people. The only thing you had between you was the arbitrary class distinction. But love is not contained by such things. Love crosses boundaries; it brings people together, regardless of the labels we apply to keep them apart. Love is pure, honest, all-encompassing.”

  She paused and dropped her voice to a softer tone. “Cornelius, Rosalyn had your child. You had a son, Liam. Your line lives on, even today, hundreds of years later. I hope you can find some solace in that.”

  The chamberlain’s eyes registered shock, confusion, and deep thought. Lacey felt sorry for dumping so many revelations on him in such a short time.

  “Cornelius, we know you felt guilt for going behind your lord’s back. That guilt shows your strength of character. Not weakness, but strength. But it was no match for the strength of your love. Andrew never knew about your love for Rosalyn. He knew you to be a loyal and dependable servant. So do we. You were all that, and more. You were also human.”

  She pulled in a long breath.

  “We know how deeply you grieved. We know how, when Rosalyn married, you lost all hope. We feel your pain, and we grieve for your loss. We know you ended your own life. A sin by some standards. But, Cornelius, God knows. God understands. God forgives.”

  She stepped closer again. If she raised her hand, she could touch him.

  “Let go, Cornelius. Let go of this prison. You’ve done your penance. Rosalyn has moved on; it is time for you to go, also. Let go, Cornelius. Let go, release your grip on pain and grief, and move on. With God’s help, you’ll find a way to redeem yourself. Of that I have no doubt.”

  She reached out carefully, as if she might stroke his cheek. “Move on, Cornelius. More love awaits you. Rosalyn awaits you. Move on, and go with God.”

  As her last words echoed away in the dim room, the gray presence just beyond her hand flickered once, then began to fade. The eyes, so full of sorrow and pain, closed slowly, then reopened. Lacey saw wonder there, and hope. His gaze slid from hers and looked outward, toward the window, toward the world outside.

  Then he was gone.

  Lacey lowered her arm. The smudge stick, in her other hand, continued to put up fragrant blue smoke that swirled about the empty room. Even her shallow exhales set it to dipping and floating. Some of it danced toward the window.

  Sam stepped up behind her and put a hand on her shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze.

  “You did it, Lace,” he said softly. “You set him free.”

  She turned to face him, the look of wonder morphing into a shy grin.

  “I did, didn’t I?” She laughed out loud. “Who knew?”

  ~~~

  NINETEEN

  As everyone settled around the Ellsworth’s dining room table, voices were hushed and bits of conversation were murmured. Harris, Aileen and Mercy served silently, but Lacey caught Harris’ shining eyes, a shy smile on Mercy’s face. Aileen, on one trip past Lacey, put a hand briefly on her shoulder and grinned. Lacey ducked her head to hide her own muffled laugh.

  The pork loin was tender and juicy, the mixed vegetables sweet and the baby red potatoes flavorful and buttery. Lacey snagged a piece of the thick brown bread and spread it with plenty of butter.

  “So,” Peter said, finally lifting his voice to take in everyone in the room. “He’s gone?”

  “Yes,” Sam said. “The residence is clear.”

  Peter cut a bit of pork, frowning down at it. He speared it with his fork, but did not bring it to his mouth. “I, uh, owe you
an apology.” He raised his eyes to Sam.

  “Thank you,” Sam said, “although there’s no need. People don’t often stay in the boxes ascribed to them.” He shrugged. “Human nature.”

  Peter did not look mollified. He put the bite of meat into his mouth and glanced around the room furtively. Lacey noticed he did not make eye contact with any of the servants.

  “Do you know where they go?” Mavis asked Sam.

  He smiled grimly. “Your guess is as good as mine. The Navajo believe that it is not for us to know, not until we get there ourselves. I don’t try to figure it out.”

  She glanced over to Lacey. “But you speak of God to them. What God do you mean? What religion?”

  Lacey looked to Sam, but he tilted his head to her. Go ahead.

  She met Mavis’ gaze. “Any of them. All of them. It doesn’t really matter. I know we here on earth tend to get all balled up in the details, but from what Sam and I have witnessed, it’s much less complex than that. God is love. The universe wants us to grow, to learn, to share what we’ve learned and help others. We’re all heading the same direction, even if it doesn’t look like it, and no one wins until we all get there together.”

  Mavis’ mouth hung open slightly. When she realized, she pulled it shut. “That is, uh, remarkable,” she said softly. “So simple, yet so… elegant.”

  “It certainly works for us,” Lacey said. Under the table, she took Sam’s hand. “Simple is good.”

  Mavis smiled. “Yes, I would say so.” She shared her smile with everyone in the room and turned back to her dinner with quiet delight.

  “So you’ll have one last day on our enchanted isle,” Peter said. “What will you do? Go back to Dublin? Explore Trinity more completely?”

  Lacey was about to say they had no plans, but Sam forestalled her. “Actually,” he said, “we have a project that’ll take most of the day. But maybe we can do a little more sightseeing on the way back.”

  “A project?” she repeated.

  Sam nodded. “Harley will have the car out front for us in the morning. What time, Harley?”

  Harley leaned forward so he could meet both Sam’s and Lacey’s eyes. “Will nine o’clock serve?”

  “Sure,” Sam said. “That’ll do.”

  Lacey frowned at Harley, then turned her distrusting eyes on Sam. “What have you cooked up?”

  He grinned at her. “Not telling.” He squeezed her hand. “Don’t worry; you’ll like it.”

  “Humpf,” she grumbled.

  To her consternation, it seemed that everyone was enjoying her pique. Everyone but her.

  ~~~

  TWENTY

  Shortly after breakfast, the three of them piled into the Land Rover and Harley headed toward Dublin.

  “When are you going to tell me where we’re going?” Lacey asked.

  “You’ll see,” was all Sam would say.

  Harley’s mustache twitched, but couldn’t hide a smile.

  They rocketed through Dublin, then back out into the green countryside. Before long, Harley turned off on a lane that looked familiar. They wended through low hills, and Lacey turned in her seat to stare at Sam in the backseat.

  “The abbey?”

  “Ding, ding, ding, we have a winner,” he joked.

  Harley parked in front of St. Michael’s and led the way inside. “Let me find Brother Jonas,” he said, leaving them in the entry.

  Lacey fumed quietly. “Can’t you tell me now?”

  “Patience, Lacey.”

  “Patience, hell,” she grumbled.

  Finally Harley returned with Jonas. He greeted them warmly. “So good to see you again so soon,” he said, pumping their hands. “I’ve got everything ready for you in the back. This way.”

  They strode down the long hall to the back door, and Jonas led them out into the morning sun, a bright shock after the dim interior of the abbey.

  “Here’s a wheelbarrow,” Jonas said, pointing out the bright yellow conveyance. “I didn’t want to mix the concrete until you were ready. I’ve got trowels and gloves. Even aprons if you’d like to try to stay clean. No guarantees, though.”

  Lacey stood as if dumbstruck. She looked from the wheelbarrow to the other implements: a shovel, two hoes, a couple of spades. Then sister Catriona burst through the door.

  “Hallo, hallo. Nice to see you again. We’re going to make a day of it, eh?”

  Now Lacey was getting mad. She put her hands on her hips and glared at Sam.

  “We’re cleaning up the cemetery,” he told her. “You and Sister Catriona can do the weeding and cleaning up around the graves. Jonas and Harley and I are going to fix those broken places in the rock wall.” He angled his head at her. “I just thought your second great-grandmother could use a little TLC.”

  A slow smile replaced Lacey’s frown. “Really?” She laughed. “That’s a terrific idea.”

  “I thought so,” Sam said smugly. “Here’re some gloves. Come on.”

  It was a gorgeous day for working outside. The sun was warm but a gentle breeze cooled the air. Lacey and Catriona worked tirelessly, pulling weeds, raking the grounds, replacing rock borders that had fallen into disarray. After a good hour of work, they stopped and looked around. They had a third of the cemetery cleaned up, and it looked great.

  “Wow,” Lacey said, noting the clean, neat graves. “What a difference.”

  “Aye, it looks very nice. I’m going to go get water for everyone. I’ll be right back.”

  Lacey wandered over to where the men were working on a section of wall. Sam was scooping up the cement with his trowel, slapping it down on the existing wall, and Jonas and Harley fit rocks into the breach. Harley had shed his tweed jacket and Jonas worked in jeans and a short-sleeved shirt. They both had sweat running down the sides of their faces, while Sam looked unaffected.

  “You guys are doing a great job,” Lacey said.

  “This is our third fix,” Sam said. “I think we only have one more, right, Jonas?”

  Jonas stopped and leaned back, stretching his lower back as he scanned the wall.

  “Aye, that place down there,” he said, pointing to another tumbled wall. “We’re making right good progress.”

  Catriona re-emerged with bottles of water for everyone, and they all took a break to rehydrate.

  “When we finish with the wall,” Sam said, “we can help you two with the rest of the graves.”

  “It’ll look so very much nicer,” Catriona sighed. She turned a beaming smile on Sam and Lacey. “You two are angels to do this for us.”

  Lacey blushed, but pointed at Sam. “It was his idea. I had no clue.”

  “Eh.” Sam shrugged. “It seemed like a nice thing to do.”

  After their break, they all returned to their work in earnest. Lacey and Catriona ended up with a large pile of weeds, which Jonas said they would cart off later. The men finished the last repair to the wall and cleaned up their implements, although they were all a little mud-spattered. With their help, the cleanup of the last of the cemetery went quickly, and it wasn’t long before they all stood and surveyed their work.

  “Oh, my,” Catriona said, leaning on her hoe. “It hasn’t looked this nice since… I don’t know when.”

  “I daresay this will be the impetus for us to keep it looking nice, as well,” Jonas said. He turned and stuck his hand out to Sam. “Thank you. This gift of time and labor is beyond measure.”

  Sam accepted the praise gracefully. “Glad we could help.” Then he turned to Catriona. “Do you have the…?”

  “Oh, aye. Let me get it.” Setting her hoe down against the wall, she scurried back to the abbey, the length of her veil flapping in the breeze.

  “What?” Lacey asked.

  “You’ll see,” Sam said.

  She huffed a breath, but couldn’t be too annoyed. She knew whatever else he’d secretly arranged, it would be good.

  Catriona reappeared holding a tall jar that looked like a devotional candle. The candle had be
en used up long ago, however, and had been replaced with a bouquet of wildflowers. She handed the ersatz vase to Lacey.

  “For your ancestor,” she said.

  Lacey took the vase and flashed a look at Sam, feeling tears pricking her eyes.

  “When we get home,” he said, “I’ll make a vase just for her and send it over. For now, this will do.”

  Lacey nodded, not trusting her voice. She walked to Colleen’s grave and set the vase on the stone ledge at the base of the marker. Then she stepped back and surveyed the grave.

  “Nice to meet you,” she whispered. “I’ll tell your great-grandson all about you. And maybe someday he’ll come over and meet you himself.”

  ~~~

  TWENTY-ONE

  The three of them were quiet in the car. Tired, but supremely satisfied with the morning’s work.

  “Any place you want to stop on the way back?” Harley asked.

  “Actually,” Lacey said, “I’d love some fish and chips. Can we buy you lunch?”

  “I know just the place.”

  The corner restaurant was long and narrow, with chrome stools and round tables. The fish was delicate-flavored and flakey, the chips crunchy on the outside but soft inside.

  “We’re going to need to have more fish like this when we get home,” Lacey said. “This is great stuff.”

  “Which reminds me,” Harley said, “the Ellsworths would like you to join them for dinner this evening. A farewell dinner as it were, since we must be up and gone early in the morning to the airport.”

  “Of course,” Lacey said. “It’ll be nice to get home, but this week has just been phenomenal. So much more than I would have guessed.” She flashed a smile at Sam.

  “I think I can safely say that it was that way for all of us,” Harley said. “Watching you two work was… amazing. It was lovely to see the caring way you led the ghosts to move on. The level of compassion and kindness was gratifying. After what those two souls endured, it was particularly satisfying to know they are free. And I daresay both have a legacy they might not have had before. We will all remember both Cornelius and Jemma.”