The Haunting of Castle Dune - A Novella: Book 10.5 of Morna’s Legacy Series

by Bethany Claire

  “So, ye will be arriving tomorrow then? And checking out when?”

  I waited as she typed in my details and reserved my room for the next three weeks.

  “The best airport to fly into is Glasgow. ’Tis still a bit of a jaunt from there to here, but we do have a car service that will pick ye up if ye wish.”

  “That would be lovely. I don’t have a flight booked yet, but I’ll do that right after I get off the phone with you and then call you back.”

  “That will be just fine. I’ve one last question for ye, and then I’ll be ready for yer card. On Sundays, we’ve a ferry boat that takes tourists out to see the puffins on Perry Isle. There is no one booked on it yet, but our lad will make the trip even if there is only one who wishes to go. Can I put ye down?”

  She was really good at the upsell. I shrugged as if she could see me.

  “Sure. Why not? I’m not sure if I’ve ever seen a puffin.”

  “Ach, they’re worth seeing to be sure. Now, for yer payment, miss, whenever ye are ready.”

  I read off my card number. As she processed my deposit, I asked her the question that had been on my mind since receiving their information.

  “Can I ask how you got my address? Surely, you guys don’t send brochures to everyone in Boston. It seems a strange choice of marketing all the way from Scotland.”

  There was a brief pause before her answer, then her voice popped back on the line with the same friendly tone as before.

  “Sorry for the delay. I just wanted to make sure I was correct before I told ye what I suspected, and I was. It looks like ye were a referral. A Kate from Boston gave us yer info.”

  I smiled at the sound of my former patient’s name. Surely, it was her way of letting me know she’d stayed in Scotland and was doing well.

  After thanking Marilyn for her help and writing down my confirmation number, I hung up the phone and continued my last-minute preparations.

  By the time my flight was booked and my bag was packed, Brodie seemed a distant memory.

  Chapter 3

  Isle of Dune, Scotland — 1640

  * * *

  He’d let his wounds sit for too long. He could feel the infection spread through his veins—he could see it too. While the flesh on his arms had turned ugly and red with infection, his face, that which he could see from underneath his beard, was now pale and gaunt from pain. The dark circles under his eyes brought out the bones beneath his skin. He knew before long, that’s precisely what he would be—a pile of rotting bones all alone in his isolated castle.

  He couldn’t be saved from his injuries. Relief was all a healer could offer him. But he must row himself to the mainland one last time. He had to make certain that Sorcha would keep her promise for as long as she could. Surely, she still cared for him enough for that.

  He would speak to her, would obtain what relief he could, and then he would return home to die. Alone...as he knew he must.

  This had to end with him, but now that death was near, all he wanted was to run from his duty—to leave this place and never return.

  He wouldn’t give in to his cowardice. All of this was his fault, and he would set things right.

  The others didn’t see it—those who’d passed before him. They clung to their own lives too strongly to see the duty they now owed to those who might try to make the castle their home.

  He would help them see. With time, once he had passed and joined their ghostly chorus, they would agree to serve alongside him, to make certain that no others joined them in their everlasting purgatory on this isle.

  This terrible torture wouldn’t last forever, and he would gladly pay the debt with his own misery if it meant no others ever settled on the isle.

  Each breath took more of his energy than the last. It wouldn’t be long now.

  He would leave tonight and return to the isle by morning.

  He wouldn’t have to bear this fear much longer. Within three days’ time, he would breathe his last breath. It would be over.

  He would be the last ghost on the Isle of Dune.

  He would spend his entire afterlife ensuring that it was so.

  Chapter 4

  The Inn at Warton Shore, Scotland — Present Day

  * * *

  “Ye’ve made it!”

  A little over twelve hours after the decision was made, I stood in front of the check-in desk of the loveliest little inn I’d ever seen and was welcomed by Marilyn.

  “Yes, I did. Please tell me you’ve had a few hours off since I spoke with you on the phone.”

  She smiled as she extended a key in my direction. “Aye, I did. Ye called in at the end of my shift. How was yer flight over?”

  I laughed as I reached to take the key from her hand. “I must have needed a vacation even more than I realized. I slept the entire flight.”

  “Lucky ye. I can never sleep on planes. Now, ye must make certain ye stay awake the rest of the day, or ye will have a much more difficult time adjusting.”

  The door behind me opened and closed as I watched Marilyn look past me.

  “Ye must be Morna and Jerry. What luck ye’ve arrived just after Eleanor.”

  I watched as she walked around the counter and toward whomever had entered. Following her voice, I faced them.

  Just inside the door stood the cutest older couple I’d ever seen. The man stood a hair taller than his wife, and their hands were interlaced as they smiled back at me.

  Marilyn hurried to introduce us.

  “Ye’ve all come to us during our low season. For the time being, ye are the only ones checked into the inn. Ye’ve both booked extended stays, so I thought it might be good for ye to meet one another, especially seeing as ye are all booked on tomorrow’s ferry ride out to see the puffins.”

  Jerry extended his hand first. “’Tis a pleasure to meet ye, lass. I’m sure we will be seeing a lot of each other. What brings ye to Warton Shore?”

  “It was kind of a split-second decision really. I’m in need of some good, old-fashioned rest and relaxation.”

  The old man snorted as I released his hand. “Good luck with that now that my wife is here, lass.”

  I couldn’t imagine what he meant, but I immediately hoped that their arrival didn’t mean I would have neighbors who planned on interrupting my vacation every time I turned around.

  Morna quickly swatted her husband on the arm as she stepped forward to greet me. She didn’t bother shaking my hand. Instead, she went in for a hug with a familiarity that made it impossible for me to dislike her.

  “Doona listen to a word he says, lass. ’Tis lovely to make yer acquaintance. Eleanor, is it?”

  I nodded as she stepped away from me.

  Marilyn spoke once again. “Morna and Jerry, the bellhop will bring yer bags inside in just a moment. In the meantime, I’ll show Eleanor to her room. I’ll be back to fetch ye shortly.”

  I bid farewell to Morna and Jerry as Marilyn reached for my bag.

  “Have a lovely evening. I suppose I’ll see you bright and early for the ferry ride?”

  They both nodded and waved me off as we left them.

  “She is just as lovely as I knew she would be.”

  Jerry shook his head at her as he moved to open their balcony door. “And ye shall reward her loveliness by ensuring that ye doona see puffins tomorrow and instead end up in a haunted castle some distance from here. She’s all alone, lass. Do ye truly think it necessary to terrify her so? Canna ye at least warn her of what we may find in the castle?”

  “I can warn her, but I’ll do nothing to protect her from the castle, at first. She needs to see it, or she willna wish to listen to what I will need to tell her later.”

  “And what makes you so sure that she will wish to help, even after she’s been terrified into believing?”

  “Helping is what she does, Jerry. Few men have ever needed help as much as Monroe Dune. Once she sees that, she willna have it in her heart to say no.”

  Sleep eluded me. It
was as if my brain and body didn’t know what to do when out of my normal work routine. I went for a walk around the inn at two a.m.; I meditated; I counted sheep; I lay on the floor and put my legs up against the wall. Nothing helped. The more I tried to sleep, the less sleepy I became. By the time sunrise came, I was so ready to be out of my room that I was down in the dining hall before they’d even set our table.

  “Well, ye are up rather early. Did ye have a difficult time, lass?”

  I started at the sound of Morna’s voice behind me. I’d not expected to see the inn’s other guests for some time still.

  “Difficult would be an understatement. It wasn’t the room. The bed was comfortable, the temperature perfect. I think my body is just in shock. Let’s just say it’s been a while since I took a vacation.”

  Before Morna could respond to me, Marilyn appeared in the doorway.

  “Well, look at the both of ye. Ye keep making my job easy. I was just on my way to phone yer rooms. It looks as if bad weather is expected this afternoon. Roby is willing to take ye out early if ye wish, but ye must leave soon so that ye may be back before the tides turn ugly if that is yer choice.”

  I nodded. “That’s fine with me. I’m not much of a breakfast eater anyway, so as soon as Morna and Jerry have eaten, I’m good with leaving early.”

  Morna agreed. “Aye. Ye doona need to feed us, Marilyn. The older Jerry gets, the less I can get him to eat. If ye have some coffee to help wake him, ’twill be all we need until we return.”

  Marilyn clapped her hands together in glee. “Oh, good. I was worried that such an early morning would displease ye, but the puffins are well worth the trip. Coffee is already on. I’ll let Roby know of yer decision and then I’ll prepare travel mugs, a cooler full of lunches, and snacks for the day. Ye can meet him by the boat. It says ‘Roby’s Boat’ on the side so ye canna miss it, whenever ye are ready.”

  Chapter 5

  Whatever weather report Marilyn and Roby had seen before sending us out on the water couldn’t have been more wrong. While everything seemed fine for the first few minutes, the moment we got away from shore, a thick fog covered the air around us. I could barely make out what was right in front of my face.

  “Roby?” I called out to our captain in concern.

  “Aye, lass?”

  “Do you have any sort of directional equipment on this thing to help you see where you’re going?”

  The fog continued to thicken to the point where I could no longer see anyone else in the boat with me.

  He laughed, and the confidence in his voice helped to ease some of my worry.

  “No, lass. Roby’s Boat is too old for any of that, but I could find where we are headed in my sleep. Doona worry.”

  An hour later, with the fog still heavy over the ocean, Jerry called out to Roby to mirror my concern.

  “Dinna ye say the puffins were only thirty minutes away from the inn, lad?”

  This time when Roby answered, I could hear the unease in his voice.

  “Aye. I canna make sense of it. We should have neared the docks by now, and the lights should have illuminated it.”

  A sudden whoosh passed through the boat. It was eerie enough to make the small hairs on my arms stand up. But as the wind ripped through, the sun began to peek through the clouds, and the fog lifted.

  Just ahead lay an island. A crumbling castle loomed up from its shores.

  Everyone else sat silently, but my confusion urged me to speak. “Is…is this where the puffins are?”

  “No, lass.” Roby’s voice shook as he answered me. “We are some distance from the puffins now. That be Castle Dune, one of the most wretched places in all of Scotland. I’ve never set foot upon it in my life, and I’m loathe to do so now.”

  “Do we have to? Now that the fog is gone, shouldn’t we just turn around and correct course?”

  I glanced over at Morna and Jerry. Everyone seemed to understand something I couldn’t yet see. Morna pointed to the water behind us.

  “The storm is here, lass. We doona have time to make it back. We must dock here until it has passed.”

  The expressions on their faces set me on edge.

  “Does someone live here? Surely, they won’t mind giving us shelter for a few hours.”

  Roby’s voice was just above a whisper as he directed the boat to its shores.

  “No one has lived here for decades, lass.”

  “Why? Why did you say it’s wretched?”

  As our boat pulled to a stop against the castle’s decaying dock, Roby faced me.

  “’Tis haunted by the last laird to dwell here. Some believe other spirits roam these halls, as well, but none as mean-spirited as Monroe Dune. They say he was mad, wild, and murderous. He lived alone here for a decade before his mysterious death, only rowing into the mainland to harass the bride that jilted him.”

  “Mysterious death?”

  Roby shrugged as he glanced over his shoulder at the castle.

  “No one knows how he died. Story goes that the lass who jilted him became worried for him after some time passed without a sign of him in the village. For months, she begged townsfolk to ride out and check on him before she found someone to agree.

  “They found his corpse propped up in his bed, nearly rotted to the bone.”

  I shivered as the sky opened up and it began to rain.

  Morna stood up in the boat and slung the bag filled with our lunch over her shoulder. She didn’t seem bothered by Roby’s story in the least.

  “This storm willna pass until morning. I can feel it in my bones. Best we get inside and make the best of it.”

  Jerry looked much less eager than his wife to explore the towering structure before us, but he must have sensed how frightened I was, for I saw the moment he steadied his expression and moved to offer me his arm.

  “Come, lass. If all Scottish ghost stories were real, there wouldna be a place in all of Scotland that was free of them.”

  I smiled, and the movement did much to ease the nerves that had settled inside me.

  “I’m a woman of science, Jerry. The mind is a powerful thing. Ghosts only exist in here.” I pointed to my head to emphasize what I meant.

  He nodded as we walked across the deck of the boat and allowed Roby to help us onto the dock.

  “I couldna agree more, dear.”

  The castle may not have been lived in for decades, but it was evident on entry that someone had tried not all that long ago. It was wired for electricity that, blessedly, worked. To all of our surprise, it also had running water, although none of it was hot.

  It didn’t look haunted, but I couldn’t deny that there was something about the air of the place that felt heavy and alive. While I knew it was probable that Roby’s story had caused my mind to look for things to convince me of its truth, I couldn’t shake the feeling that we were being watched—that someone or something was just waiting for the perfect moment to make itself known.

  After making our way inside and exploring as a group for the better part of an hour, we moved into a sitting room on the castle’s main level where we all worked together to clear the furniture of dust.

  Once the room was clean enough to sit in, Morna opened up the cooler of goodies Marilyn had prepared and passed around egg-salad sandwiches, potato chips, and bottles of water.

  “Won’t Marilyn be worried? I’m sure she will send someone out to look for us.”

  In answer to my question, lightning struck somewhere close outside, and Roby jumped at the noise.

  “Not a sailor in all of Scotland would be foolish enough to come and look for us now. Marilyn will assume we made it to the puffins and were stranded there. She will be worried, but she willna panic.”

  I hoped he was right. While I supposed there was some reason to worry for us, I hated the thought of Marilyn sitting around thinking the worst.

  “Roby, what happened after they found Monroe’s body?”

  He jerked in his seat before chiding me.


  “Doona say his name, lass! Do ye wish to summon him? He is probably already looking for a reason to torture us.”

  Morna laughed, and I glanced over to see her shaking her head dismissively.

  “Ach, come now, lad. I would think ’twould make him glad to know that history hasna forgotten his name, if indeed his ghost is here at all.”

  With the same speed with which the fog had lifted, the temperature in the room dropped fifteen degrees. I gasped as my hands began to shake.

  Morna seemed unperturbed.

  “’Tis only a draft. Now do ye wish to hear the end of Roby’s story or not, lass?”

  “You know, I’m not so sure I do want to know after all.”

  In a gesture so kind that it nearly made me cry, Jerry got up from his place next to Morna and moved to sit next to me before wrapping his arm around my shoulder as Morna spoke once again.

  “Well, we must speak of something, lass. Ye must remember that there are many different tales about this castle. ’Twas so verra long ago, no one knows the truth of it for sure. But there are records that show us that Monroe Dune left this castle to the woman who broke his heart, and that she passed it down to her daughter. So it went for four generations. For over a century, Sorcha and her descendants prevented anyone from living within the castle. But eventually, as time went on, the promise she’d made him meant less to those who came so many years later, and the castle was sold.

  “It has changed owners many times since then, lass. Many have tried to fix and restore the castle. Many have lived in it for a time, but all have left. Everyone had the same story to tell once they left.”

  I was too intrigued not to ask. “And what was the story?”

  “That even in death, Laird Dune claims dominion over this castle. He willna allow any others to make this castle their home. He will do anything to assert his will.”

  Woman of science or not, I had no desire to test my disbelief in the supernatural.