Once Upon A Haunted Castle: A Celtic Romance Anthology

by Eliza Knight

  Oliver came into the courtyard. “I found this on the floor.” He held out a smelly, sooty linen.

  Jamie took it from him. He caught a whiff from the rag and his head snapped back is if he’d been slapped.

  “Deadly nightshade. Did the attacker say anything to you? Did you see anything? Hand? Clothes?”

  “No. The room was dim. He stood in front of the door. The glare behind him made it impossible to see more than a silhouette.”

  “Organize a search party and look through every room in the castle for an intruder. Report back to me.” Oliver hurried off.

  “Mrs. Turner, take Laura to her room and stay with her.” He held up his hand to ward off Laura’s argument. “I need to know you’re safe while I work with Oliver. Besides, someone should be with you until we’re sure the effects of the poison are gone.”

  “I’m fine. Really. I can help you.” She stood up on wobbly legs. Jamie grabbed her before she fell.

  “I’ll tell you everything we find, but I need you to be safe.” He brushed her hair out of her eyes. “Go with Mrs. Turner,” he said softly.

  She grabbed Jamie’s sleeve. “Don’t let anything happen to you, do you understand?” His hand caressed her face and she closed her eyes at his soothing touch.

  “I will do as you command, Lass. I will always do as you command.” He kissed the top of her head.

  “Come with me,” Mrs. Turner said. “I’ll get you cleaned up and comfortable. The whiskey will help, but you need rest. You gave me a fright.” The woman steadied Laura as she stood, struggling on weak legs.

  “I gave me a fright,” she mumbled.

  “Before you leave, did you find anything in the room?” Jamie asked.

  “Only this. The intruder tried to get it from me.” She opened her hand.

  Jamie removed the rag from the pin. He stared but a moment at the jewel with the black gem in the center before he handed it to Laura. He opened the rag.

  Laura gasped. In the center was a bloody handprint. The little finger on the left hand was crooked. Evan’s?

  Chapter Eight

  In a fitful dance, Laura either buried herself under the covers to get warm or threw them off to cool down.

  Faces loomed before her, the innkeeper’s wife’s treacherous glare, Mrs. Turner’s watchful eye, Bryce’s down his nose scowl, bloody handprints on clean white linen, Mother’s concern, and Sonia’s anxious expression.

  The touch of a cloth cooled her forehead, a trickle of water eased her parched throat, and a soothing baritone spoke to her even though she couldn’t make out a word.

  She tried to rouse herself several times only to be pushed back onto the pillows and fall into a fitful sleep.

  The thud of a falling log in the hearth startled her awake. Groggy, she took a deep breath and screwed up her nose at the nauseating odor that she couldn’t get out of her head.

  In a misty daze, a movement by the door caught her attention. She lifted herself onto her elbows and forced her eyes to focus. Slowly, Evan’s ghost took form by the door. Another one way conversation. The poor boy looked different today, the troubled expression about his eyes screamed the situation was urgent.

  “I don’t know what to do. We’ve spoken to everyone.”

  He didn’t move. Did that mean he understood? That he forgave her for failing? She couldn’t fail. He started to fade.

  “Don’t go. I must have more information. I vow I won’t give up until I know who murdered you and Angel.” She collapsed back onto the bed. Breathing hard, she glanced at him.

  He shook his head. With a soft smile on his lips, he tapped his head with his forefinger.

  “Think, what do you suppose we’ve been doing?” she moaned.

  He grew larger or did he step forward? He tapped his head more insistently.

  “Think?” She tried to sit up, but was too weak. “Are you telling me I have all the information?”

  He nodded then faded away tapping his head. Her eyes too heavy to stay open, she fell into an exhausted sleep.

  Laura looked at the ceiling and worked to remove the cobwebs from her head. She threw her legs over the side of the bed and sat waiting for her eyes to focus. Finally, she got out of bed on wobbly legs and walked around the room with care. After a few minutes, she commanded the dizziness away. An hour later, feeling more like herself, she started to dress.

  “Lady Laura.” The housekeeper rushed to her side in a panic.

  “Help me finish dressing. Where’s Lord Jamie?”

  “He’s in the solar. He’ll be glad you’re awake. I didn’t expect you to be out of bed after such a fever.”

  “A fever? Have I slept long?” She held on to the back of a chair to steady herself as she slipped on her shoes.

  “Three days.” Mrs. Turner straightened the back of her skirt.

  Laura whipped around. “But—”

  The housekeeper turned her back and draped a wool around her shoulders. “Let me finish.” Mrs. Turner fastened the wool with the black gem pin she found on the table. “There. You’re ready. I suspect you’re hungry. I left fresh chamomile tea and bread in the solar.”

  The short walk down the hall tired her, but she refused to complain. Three days wasted.

  “You look well this morning.” Jamie stood as she entered the room. Was that relief she saw? She straightened and took a moment to steady herself. He didn’t hover over her. His silent encouragement was a more powerful medicine.

  Jamie, on the other hand, didn’t look his usual self. Dark patches circled his eyes and he moved a bit slower.

  “Why did you let me sleep so long? Three days.” She forced her sluggish mind to function. How many days since they left Glen Kirk? “That means we must find the answer before… midnight tonight.”

  Jamie’s disbelief was written on his face. It wasn’t worth arguing. That didn’t mean she was giving up. They stood at the window and watched the activity at the tinker’s wagon. She had no right to be disappointed. He let her know from the beginning he wasn’t a believer.

  “We kept you awake until we were sure the effects of the poison had worn off. Then you came down with a fever. Lord Jamie kept watch by your side. He wouldn’t anyone near you,” Mrs. Turner said and poured Laura a cup of tea and left the room.

  Laura turned to him. He gave nothing away although she thought he looked relieved.

  He handed Laura the cup of tea and glanced out the window with her. They stared at the tinker’s wagon for several moments.

  “Oliver made sure you weren’t mentioned in connection with the fire. The ghost is already blamed. The last thing we need is a rumor the ghost is deadly. It would start an uproar and would have Evan’s family in the middle.” He ran his hand through his hair. “We need to resolve this before Herbert returns. He’s in danger, too.”

  “Did you speak to Holger?” She sipped the warm liquid.

  Jamie shook his head and looked at her with guilty eyes. “I had other things on my mind. I never should have left you alone. What would I tell… Darla and Wesley?”

  Is that what drove him to protect her while she fought the poison? For a moment she hoped… Childish dreams. She swallowed hard.

  “It was as much my fault,” her voice dropped. The wave of nausea that hit her wasn’t from the poison. That was long gone. She breathed deeply to calm her stomach as much as her thoughts.

  “If we spend time placing blame we’ll never get anything done.” She put the tea on a nearby table and stepped toward the door.

  “Where are you going?” His voice was soft with alarm.

  “There’s no more time. I’ll speak to Holger.” She turned too fast and stumbled. Jamie rushed to her side and caught her.

  “Are you sure you’re recovered?”

  She straightened her back and brushed the wrinkles out of her skirt. “Yes. I’ll be fine.”

  “I worry about your health. You almost—”

  “When you report to my family, you can tell them I’m quite well.
” She let out a deep breath and turned to storm away. His arm shot out in front of her against the window jamb barring her way. Her lungs filled with air as she tried to object. He stood so close she could see the vein pulse in his temple. His eyes, dark green, with… passion.

  “It’s not your family I’m concerned about, it’s you. I could’ve lost you. I won’t let that happen again.” Her heart hammered in her chest. She closed her eyes to savor the moment. The frightened exhilaration she experienced when they flew through the air nestled warm between her legs.

  Jamie bent close. He covered her mouth with his and captured her lips in a passionate possession. Heat swept away the remnants of her anger. In a moment, panic coursed through her veins, then disappeared in a rush of desire.

  He released her lips and held her close, cradling her head on his chest. A smile played across her mouth and broadened. His heart pounded as hard as hers. How often she’d dreamt of his touch, his kiss. It was better than she imagined.

  “We must find Evan and Angel’s murderer.” She pulled away enough to look at his face.

  Jamie smoothed back her hair then kissed her on her nose.

  “Yes, Evan and Angel. Are you sure you’re recovered?” She wanted to kiss his worried wrinkles away. “I’ve never felt better.” He took her by the elbow and directed her down the stairs.

  “While I slept, the ghost told me we have all the information we need. We simply need to put the pieces together. He had a troubled expression, as if there was no hope. We can’t let that happen.”

  “Your ghost said you had all the information.”

  “Yes.” She stopped in the middle of the courtyard. “We must be overlooking something. We both agree Evan and Angel were murdered.” He nodded.

  “And the attack on me is tied to their murders.” Again he nodded.

  A broad smile lit her face.

  “Why don’t I like that smile?”

  She looked up at him.

  “I trust you more than anyone. You know that.” She kept her tone even, controlled, convincing.

  “Yes? I still don’t like the look in your eye.” His brow wrinkled.

  “I know how to get the murderer to expose himself. I have something he wants.” She touched the black pin.

  “Oh, no. You’re not going to be bait.” He was adamant.

  She knew it would be hard to persuade him there was no other way.

  “I think you’re right. The pin has to belong to the murderer, pulled off accidentally when he removed his bloodstained shirt. We can leave it somewhere and watch who takes it or I’ll wear the pin.” He held out his hand.

  She took a step back from him.

  “It’s our one chance. We can’t have him take it and not capture him. As for you wearing it, you’re as big as a tree. He’ll lay in wait and kill you. It must be me and it must be done today.”

  “I don’t like this. Everything in me says not to do this.”

  “No, Jamie. I wear the pin and let him find me alone. You, of course, are not far away.”

  “We may need to get this solved before Herbert returns tomorrow, but how could you think I would allow you to be put in such danger? I’ll let it be known that the pin’s locked in Herbert’s desk and I’ll station myself there. You and I will get the murdering bastard together. I promise. Don’t look so miserable.” His voice turned low with concern. “Your idea was a good one only it needed a bit of adjusting.”

  “A compromise,” she said. “We’ll have a nice walk through the courtyard and ask people if they know to whom it belongs. If they want to look at it again, they should speak to you. It will be in Lord Herbert’s desk.”

  “I’m not sure I like this compromise, but it does keep you out of danger and accomplishes what we need to do. While you dine, I’ll keep watch.”

  Laura gave him a nod. She grinned, quite satisfied with herself. He took her hand and they moved on to their little conspiracy.

  The weather was crisp. She pulled the wool tightly around her as they approached the tinker’s wagon.

  “Lord Jamie, can I help you?” the tinker asked.

  “Holger, yes two things. We’ve found a jeweled pin that Lady Laura is wearing. Do you recognize it? We’d like to return it to its rightful owner.”

  Holger looked at the pin and shook his head. “It’s a pretty piece, but I can’t say that I’ve seen it before? Is there something else I can help you with?” Holger pointed to the wagon.

  “I’m looking into the deaths of Evan and Angel.” Jamie glanced at the man’s hands. No crooked little finger on either one.

  The man pulled his cap off and averted his eyes.

  “Bad thing that was. And I thought they were such a loving couple.” The man’s unconvincing sing-song voice and insincere words struck her. Laura touched her beads, cold as the biting breeze.

  “Tell me what happened.”

  “What happened?” The tinker glanced at Laura. Jamie stepped in front of her. Laura moved away to look at the wares on the wagon. A panicked expression washed over the man.

  “Thomas said you were in the pantry when he entered with Brian and Jermyn.”

  Holger stiffened for a moment.

  “Yes. It was awful. I went to put a barrel of salt into the pantry when I heard them arguing something fierce. She wasn’t any angel with the words she tossed about. I didn’t want to interrupt them and decided to go back when they were gone. When I returned with Mary they were both dead.”

  “What did they argue about?” Laura stepped closer to hear the man’s response to Jamie’s question.

  “It may have been a lover’s spat. All I heard was noise. She probably accused him of being unfaithful and he denied it, of course. What else would a woman argue about? I’m sorry I can’t give you more information.” His voice was unconvincing. Her beads confirmed his words were a lie.

  “If you remember anything else, make sure to let me know.” Jamie stepped over to Laura. She put her hand on his outstretched arm and walked through the market.

  “You didn’t want to question him about the argument? With all we know about Evan and Angel, you don’t really think they had a lover’s spat?” She was about to tell him about the beads and thought better of it. She didn’t want to upset their new found closeness.

  “Not at all. He got a good look at the pin. His faulty memory doesn’t mean he’s the murderer. We’ll continue with our plan.”

  “No one recognized the pin. Not even a hint,” Laura said, disheartened after traipsing through the market.

  “Did you think the murderer would hold up his hand and say, it belongs to me? No,” he snorted. “I’ll take you into the hall then go lock the pin in Herbert’s desk as we planned. Hopefully, before supper is over, we’ll have the murderer with a full confession and you’ll be able to put Evan to rest. Now, to supper m’lady.”

  Chapter Nine

  Laura sat on the dais at the high table. Warm bread and a baked salmon, the second course of the evening meal lay untouched in front of her. Her stomach in knots, she glanced out the window across the courtyard for the hundredth time. She let out a large sigh of relief that Jamie was well hidden and there was no commotion. Much depended on the murderer revealing himself.

  Laura’s unrest didn’t distract the others from their meals. Every seat was filled and while the conversations were tempered, the din echoed in her head.

  Again, she looked across the courtyard, her anxiety building. This was ridiculous. She put down her linen and rose from her chair.

  “Can I get you something?” Mrs. Turner asked, holding a full platter of meat.

  “More ale, Mrs. Turner.” A pitcher was held high in the air. The housekeeper searched the room, but her staff was busy.

  “No, I don’t need anything. I’m a bit restless this evening. I’ll take the pitcher down to the well and get you some fresh water for the ale.” She tucked her chair under the table.

  “No, you needn’t go. I’ll send one of the girls. They’re accu
stomed to climbing the steep steps in the dim light.” Mrs. Turner had enough to contend with this evening. She didn’t want to add to her burden.

  “You can’t be everywhere.” Laura grabbed the empty pitcher. “While you finish here, I’ll bring the pitcher to the kitchen and tell them more ale is needed in the hall.”

  Mrs. Turner gave her a wide smile. “Take care on your way to the kitchen. Crates have been stacked there. The passage is narrow.”

  Laura hurried out of the room. The passageway was choked with people running between the kitchen and the Great Hall. She sidestepped around servants rushing out with hot food and others returning with empty platters. She took special care to avoid the stairs that went down to the well and finally reached the kitchen.

  “More ale is needed,” she said as someone took the pitcher from her. There was no time for pleasantries.

  The kitchen was controlled chaos with one cook carving the roast while another rushed to get fowl off a spit. The cauldron that hung in the fireplace bubbled with an aromatic stew. She breathed in the wonderful aromas.

  Out of the noisy commotion, a baby toddled toward her in tears.

  “Where are you going, little one? It’s not safe here.” Laura picked up the child, afraid she tumble down the stairs. The child squirmed and cried louder.

  “She’s cutting teeth and is a bit out of sorts,” a woman said carrying a platter of vegetables hurried behind the baby. The woman looked around and finally handed the platter to one of the servants to bring to the hall.

  “Not to worry, dear. Mummy’s here.” The baby unexpectedly dove toward her mother, but got her arm caught in Laura’s necklace.

  The baby, safe in her mother’s arms pointed to the beads and laughed as they bounced on the floor.

  Laura scrambled to collect the beads but only managed to catch two. She put them into her pocket and looked everywhere to see where the others had landed.

  Consequences. Lose a bead lose something precious to you, that’s what Lisbeth warned. A cold chill ran up her back. Jamie was most precious to her.