11
I slapped the lid down on the slow cooker and clapped my hands. “Okay, now we wait for about four to five hours to let the sauce and sausage bubble and for the flavors to meld together. Then we’ll assemble the lasagna and bake it.”
“Great. You ready to check the video yet?”
“Yes! It’s been nagging at the back of my mind since I woke this morning.” I followed Davey into the living room, where he’d already turned on my laptop and added another laptop next to it on the side table.
“I hope you don’t mind me working while you watch it. I need to make a few phone calls and send emails.”
“I don’t mind at all.” I sat beside him, picked up the laptop, and tucked my feet to the side. For several long minutes, all I heard was his soft breathing and the tick of his keyboard.
The room’s recording stayed the same for thirty long minutes after we went to bed. I paused the video when his home phone rang.
“Dan speaking,” he continued, and I could tell it was a business call from his side of the conversation. Dan stood and casually walked the room with the phone to his ear and his free hand gesturing as he spoke. I couldn’t help but let my eyes follow his every move. To see him in his element was attractive. Most of what he said I didn’t understand because he talked about software products in lingo known to the technology world. He didn’t stutter once and it had me thinking why. Did I make him nervous?
He turned and caught me staring. I lowered my eyes back to the video and hit play again. Warmth crept up my neck into my cheeks. He ended his call and sat back on the sofa to type another email.
He ran his fingers through his hair and dropped his hand onto my foot. “Whoa, your feet are like ice cycles. You really should wear socks in a drafty castle, or your feet will freeze.”
“Yeah, but I’m too lazy to go get a pair from my room.”
“Give them here.” He took one foot in both his hands and rubbed warmth into them. The action both soothed me and awoken an animal instinct to kick my leg in pleasure—or climb on him.
He did the same with the other foot and set them down again. “Better?”
I cleared my throat. “Yes. Thanks.” Oh, thank goodness my voice sounded normal.
Two minutes later, the video on my laptop showed the curtain in the room swaying right before the video stopped. “Hey! It only captured a couple hours, but look.” I clicked back to show him the last second of the recording.
“Strange. Maybe we should go check it out.”
“I think we should.”
Danny helped me stand and acted reluctant to let go. “We’ll
stop by your room and pick up some socks on the way.”
“Kay.” The journey to my room revealed nothing unusual. All the lights worked, even the ones down the hall that hadn’t worked the day before.
“What do you think we’ll find in there?” I asked as I edged nearer to him the closer we got to the blue room.
“I don’t know. Most likely, it was a malfunction in the camera itself.”
“But how do you explain the curtain moving?”
His hand rested on the door for longer than necessary. “Wind.”
“Oh, no you don’t. You can’t blame any of it on the wind. Not since you saw what happened last time.”
He shrugged one shoulder. “Let’s see for sure.”
On instinct, my hand lashed out and I grabbed his belt loop. As he opened the door, he reached around, took hold of my hand and held it tight. The lights in the room were out, and Danny flicked the switch repeatedly, but it didn’t help.
“Hold on. I’ve got a torch.” He let go of my hand and immediately I latched onto his belt loop again. His light flickered on and waved around the room. “Everything looks normal.”
“Yeah, except my camera. Look.”
We shuffled closer and he bent down to inspect. “Looks like it fell and the battery popped out.” He stood and showed it to me.
“It didn’t just fall. Look how far it is from the desk you set it on.” My hand moved to his arm and clung on.
“For someone who thrills in seeking out ghosts, you sure act terrified.” He tugged on my arm. “Come on. Let’s go see if it still works. You’re shaking too much for my nerves.”
Back in the living room, I could breathe evenly and relax.
What am I doing to myself? I’m going to have a heart attack.
“Are you okay?” Danny asked as he plugged the camera into the outlet and turned it on.
“I’m fine.”
“You don’t seem fine. Before, you were bouncing at the prospect of something happening, but now you just looked frightened.” He watched me as I folded my arms and sat back on the sofa.
“I don’t know why. It’s a different feeling since last night. Now, I’m not so sure I want to help these ghosts. They aren’t as harmless as I thought they would be.”
“Why do you say that? What happened last night?”
“I kept having dreams that scared me spit less, but I could never remember them when I woke. The last time this happened, I couldn’t breathe. It felt like someone was sitting on me, trying to suffocate me. When I reached out, there was nothing there, but I heard someone laugh.”
“Laugh?”
“Yeah, like a deep man’s crackly smoker’s laugh.”
He rubbed his chin and lowered to the seat beside me. “There’s no male ghosts. Ask Bridgette. She only speaks about the female ghosts. Not one of my relatives ever mentioned a male ghost.”
“Well, that’s what it sounded like.” I ran my hand through my hair until I reached the ends, where I noticed a group of split ends to pick at.
“There. It’s working.”
I glanced up to see him pointing the camera at me. To lighten my mood and see his smile, I puckered my lips and batted my eyes dramatically at the camera. I fluffed my hair and wiggled my eyebrows as my lips protruded outward. “For the second time today, I feel like a movie star.”
“Do movie stars in the States talk with their lips out like that?” he asked as he chuckled.
“Of course. The Brits don’t?”
“No. Don’t you watch British television?” He turned the camera off, and I relaxed my lips.
“No. I hardly have a chance to watch anything.”
“We should watch some tonight.” The last part of his sentence died off, and his shoulders drooped.
“What?”
“I forget that our only telly in this house is in my room.”
“So?”
He rubbed the back of his neck. “I only have one bed.”
Understanding dawned on me and the dots connected. “Oh.” My mom would murder me if she knew I’d already spent the night in his bed. Not that anything happened. But climbing into his bed again? Forget about it. I’d be in deep doo doo. Then again, why am I worried about what Mom thinks?
On the other hand, he lives thousands of miles away from me. I can’t have him ‘til death do us part, so I can’t have him at all.
“We should get this set up in the room again.” Danny held the camera up and stood.
“Would you mind doing it alone? I kinda need a break from it for a minute.” I gave him my best smile, regardless of feeling down.
“Yeah. Maybe you should rest.”
“I’m not tired.” I sat. “Actually, I’d like to start looking for the journal the lady at the store mentioned.”
“Okay. I can point you in the right direction.” He helped me up and guided the way into the library close to the great hall.
“I thought British libraries are supposed to be huge and grand,” I said as I entered. The entire room could be no bigger than my 1,000 square foot apartment at home, which is still big, but not as big as a library should be. A fireplace with a marbled mantle was set up on the left wall, like every room in this castle. Two suede leather chairs faced the fireplace with a round side table between them. Directly across from the doorway were two thin arched windows letting in the midday light, and between them were bookshelves reaching up and over the windows, then continuing around the room to fill the wall on the right and around the fireplace on the left.
“I would agree, but it wasn’t the way of the times when this castle was built.” He pressed his hand at the small of my back to direct me to one corner of the room. “This will be where you most likely will find it.” He pointed above my head and took hold of the rolling ladder, placing it in front of me. “Those books are the oldest.”
“This will take a month of Tuesdays.”
“I—I—I was s—serious when I said you could stay as long as you like.”
My brows rose a tad higher, but I chose to pretend like his comment never happened. Was he that desperate for company to have someone he wasn’t attracted to stay with him that long?
“Uh, b—b—but it s—shouldn’t.”
Crap. I’ve gone and made him nervous again.Before I could voice one word to ease his discomfort, he left the room. I slapped my forehead. “Stupid. I should’ve laughed or said something. He was probably joking.” I mumbled, climbed the ladder, and read book spines.
Jessica
“Rats. This is just a journal someone put together about seeds and plants.” I slapped the book closed and coughed at the dust ball I’d created in front of my face. I added the book to the rejected pile and carried it back up the ladder to replace it where I found them.
I glanced toward the door on my way up the ladder, not for the first time, wondering if Danny would come to either help or sit beside me while he worked. Maybe he’s too shy to face me after I made him feel awkward.
I hadn’t searched every book, only those without a title on the spine and ones that appeared handwritten. This narrowed it down by a lot. I found that after three hours of hunting I’d gone through all the old books. The newer ones stayed undisturbed.
“Well, that’s that.” I made my way back to the living room, stopping at heated words coming from the kitchen. I tiptoed closer, placing my arm and elbow against the china cabinet and crouching down. What’s going on?
“... see why she’s of your concern...” It was Danny’s voice. He sounded wounded and upset.
“She’s not yours.”
Ron? Was that Ron practically growling through his teeth?
“What has come over y—you? Since when did you care so much ab—bout her—”
As I attempted to get closer, my stupid elbow knocked the glass in the china cabinet beside me. Feet shuffled, and a door slammed shut. Get out now, or I’m caught! I twirled around and got on the other side of the door from the china closet to the dining room and hallway. What was that all about? I counted to sixty, then ten more for good measure. Back in the kitchen, Danny lifted the lid to the sauce in the slow cooker. A spoon was held ready in his hand.
“Ah ha! Caught you! Put the weapon down.”
He froze with his back to me. “You’ve caught me red-handed. I must face my judgment. What will my sentence be?” He lowered the spoon and slowly turned around.
A smile spread on my face. I loved his playful side. I sauntered over to him with my head held high. “You think I can just hand out sentences willy-nilly? These things take serious consideration.”
“Fair enough. If you choose to torture me by withholding my penalty, then I’m forced to bite my nails to the bone, pull out my hair, and go mad with worry.” He glanced at the pot of simmering sauce with a hungry look in his eye and swallowed. “I’ll be in my room. Just remember, I didn’t follow through on my intentions. That at least should lighten my conscience.”
He started walking away, but before he took three steps, I grabbed the back of his belt and pulled him to a stop. “Oh, no, you don’t. I’m assembling the lasagna and I want you to learn how to do it.”
“Will this be my punishment?”
“Of course not. I still need time to think it over. Now hand me a large bowl to mix the cheese in—wash your hands first!”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Like a big-time chef on the Food Channel, I gave Danny directions assembling a lasagna. With each instruction I gave, I added a country drawl or an absurd French accent to make myself sound more star-worthy. I sounded ridiculous. Near the end, I ran out of clever ways to present my work and dropped the act to start a normal conversation. Sometimes my weirdness overwhelmed me.
“We’ll eat in just over an hour. Will Bridgette and Ron be joining us for dinner?” I asked, sprinkling the last bit of cheese over the top.
“I’ll invite them, but don’t be surprised if they don’t show.”
“Why? Don’t they like me?”
“I’m sure they like you just fine. Well, Bridgette is sensitive to the spirits in this house, and I think she’s a little protective of the place.”
“And Ron?”
“I don’t know. He’s been acting odd lately. Normally, he’s a quiet, passive person. Never liked confrontations or being in the spotlight.” Danny retrieved his spoon from earlier and gestured with his head toward the leftover sauce stuck to the side of the pot.
“Yes, you can.”
“So, what’s Ron like now?”
“He’s ... he’s like someone completely different. He’s opinionated about everything I do or how the castle should look. He just argued with me for ten minutes because he wanted to tear down the cottage to build a gazebo. That cottage is his home and has been there for years—long before he was born. It doesn’t make sense.”
I thought back on the conversation I’d overheard between the two. Could they both have referred to the cottage as she or her? Like a car? Maybe they weren’t talking about me at all.
“So, tell me what you’ve found?” Danny asked between licks of his spoon.
Assuming he spoke of my search for the journal, I answered, “Nothing,”
“Don’t get so down. I’m sure you’ll find something.” He set the spoon in the sink and licked his lips.
I wonder what his lips taste like.I shook the thought from my mind and glanced away briefly before speaking, “I get the feeling I’m looking in the wrong room. Would you keep a journal in the library?”
“No. But if my great-great-grandchildren found my journal, I’m sure they’d think it important enough to add to the library. Or perhaps in the historical national archives if I were important enough.”
“I guess you’re right. But I don’t think it’s there.”
“Should we try the study upstairs? Or there’s the bedrooms?”
I slid the dish into the oven and set the timer. “Yeah. Will you go with me?”
“Of course.”
I pointed at his shirt just under his collar. “You’ve dripped on yourself.” I flicked his nose when he looked down. “Fell for the oldest trick in the book!”
I wasn’t expecting his quick reflexes to attack and tickle my sides. I yelped and ran from the room to the bottom of the stairs, where I slipped and fell hard against the stone floor.
“Jessica!”
Trying to save myself from hitting my face, my hands caught me and slapped so hard against the ground I thought I might’ve caused an earthquake in China. Luckily, my face didn’t hit, or I could’ve resembled a prized boxer after a fight. My hands, left knee, and elbow took the brunt of the fall, and they’d hit with such force it brought immediate tears to my eyes.
“Oh, Jessica. I—I—I—I’m so s—sorry!” Danny scooped me off the ground as if I weighed no more than a feathered pillow. He cradled me in his arms and set me on the sofa in the sitting room.
I held my red hands out in front of me—thankfully, they were still attached. Danny’s lamentations drew my attention to him. His drooping brows and frown hovered over me as his hands jerked and moved about as if he didn’t know where to touch or how he could help me. The sight of him looking so distraught brought on a fit of giggles. With tears blurring my vision, I laughed energetically.
“You should see your face! Ha ha!”
His shoulders shook, and he struggled to keep a smile from his lips. “Well, I don’t think you getting injured is a laughing matter.”
“Then why are you laughing?”
More tears flowed down my cheeks from the laughter within and from his deep, resounding burst of elation. It took several minutes before either of us could speak, and each time we tried, it would only escalate.
Danny’s chuckles died down to resemble a dying motor to where he could speak. “Look at us. A couple of giddy children. Almost as if we were—” His cheeks pinked and my breath caught.
A wave of attraction washed over me, and for a moment, I thought his soul might be telling me something important.
He lowered his eyes to my hands. “Let me see.”
His touch hurt and made my hand scream in pain. “They sting a bit, but I think my elbow and knee might be sporting a bruise tomorrow.”
“And a small scrape on your knee.”
“Awe, that’s nothin’. Once, I crashed on my bike and had road rash from my ankle to here.” I indicated above my knee.
“So, crashing on bikes is a common occurrence with you? I see now where I went wrong in asking you to ride with me in the first place.”
“It’s all your fault,” I said and winked.
He motioned to my leg. “Would you like me to put some ointment on your knee?”
“Nah. It’s hardly a scratch at all. Any idea how long before my hands will stop stinging?” I held my hands out, afraid to touch anything with them.
“Not sure. I can rub some ointment into them if you’d like.”
Just the thought of him rubbing my hands stirred the blood and warmed my cheeks. “Uh ... I think I’ll wait a few minutes until I can stand to touch anything.”
He brushed the hair behind my shoulder and I nearly sighed aloud. “Are you sure you’re fine?”
“Yeah.” I stood, and the blood drained into my hands which intensified the throbbing pain. To hide any discomfort, I headed out of the room. Danny gathered up the camera and cord and followed me to the stairs.
At the top, Danny gestured down the hall toward the staircase leading to the third floor. “You might want to try some of the rooms upstairs. I remember seeing more books in those rooms. The rose room would be best to start with. From what I understand, it’s where honored guests would stay.”
“Sounds good. I’ll follow you.” Each time I’d traveled the stairs and hall with him to the blue room I’d had the privilege of holding his hand. I wiggled my fingers and decided against it, even though it would ease the creepies away.
He led me to the door of the rose room and turned to make his way back to the blue room. I paused, watching Danny walk away with his shoulders back and caution in his eyes.
“Good luck.” I waved.
“You too.”
I thought it wise not to shut the door behind me. I hadn’t seen this particular room yet, so I explored more in-depth. A single canopy bed with drapes flowing to the floor sat between two narrow windows. The post and arch over the bed had been delicately carved to resemble a vine of roses climbing to the top. Gold touched each tip of the roses, and the rest remained polished wood. The nightstand to each side of the bed matched the same gold-tipped rose. A couple sitting chairs in the right corner near a fireplace held faded rose-colored pillows and on the opposite side of the room, there stood an oval full-length mirror next to a writing desk. An open door in the far corner led to what looked to be a dressing room.
The only books in the room were shelved on both sides of the grand fireplace and mantle. Perhaps only twenty in all. I knelt beside the books and pulled the first one out to check its insides. A wave of goosebumps prickled up my spine. The temperature in the room dropped a few degrees. Someone was here.
The door behind me leading out creaked. I turned my head but saw no one there. “Hello?” No answer.
A book to my right, only three feet away, fell from the shelf, landing with the pages open. Another fell, then another. One by one, the books tumbled, two of which fell on my head. I gasped and stood, holding my hands over my head.
A flickering, dim figure stood at the end of the bed. The woman’s black hair flowed down her shoulders, almost touching her waist, and her nightgown waved around her floating, translucent feet.
I backed into the corner, holding the book like a shield. Enraged, she peered down at me. Holy smokes! If looks could kill! Fear froze me, remembering how the night before I’d been near to death of strangulation.
Wind picked up the dust in the room and swirled about the ghost. She raised her hand as if to strike me. My voice found its way out of my throat, “Oh, please don’t hurt me! I’m trying to help!”
Her image dimmed and she lowered her hand.
I took encouragement from this and continued, “I’m here to help you—t—t—to find out why you died and help you pass on to the other side.”
The wind ceased. She studied me for a moment before lifting her left hand and pointing at the wall between the fireplace and the door to the dressing room.
“Do you want me to go?”
A moan escaped her lips, and it sounded almost as if she tried to speak. Her words were unclear.
“You want me to leave? But I—”
She shook her head and thrust her pointed finger at the wall again.
“You don’t want me to leave?” Holy freaking cow! I can’t believe I’m having a conversation with a ghost!
She shook her head again and moved in one solid motion to the wall, disappearing right through. With a click and a creak, the wall moved on its own so slightly that I could tell that there was something different. I eased toward it and touched the decorative trim that connected with the molding. A rose had been carved at each intersecting trim but one, the odd one, had a rosebud instead of a full-bloomed flower. I touched the bud and found it gave way ever so slightly. I pressed on it, and the wall creaked open an inch at the edge of the trim.
I breathed out a “Wow” and opened the wall all the way. Its length only went from my hips to just over my head and only a foot and a half wide. In the dim, electric light, its depth could only be a foot or two. An old bridal veil appeared as if spiders and bugs had used it for a home. Lying on top was a pile of old jewels, and to the right of it sat a leather-bound book.
My heart raced at the thought of it being the journal the woman mentioned, but taking a closer look, the idea of it being the same journal seemed impossible. This little cubby in the wall couldn’t have been disturbed in decades. If anyone had found this place since the person who’d put the things there, then the jewels would’ve been gone, and it would’ve been emptied.
I touched the book’s spine and shivered when my fingers brushed a web. Now’s not the time to get the heebie-jeebies because of some spiders. Get a grip! I counted to three, reached in, and quickly pulled it out, then dropped the web-covered book on the chair behind me. I rubbed my fingers on my clothes and danced around to get the creepy crawlies off of me.
“Are you done?”
I simultaneously jumped, screamed, and flung around to see Danny’s wide blue eyes watching me. “Don’t scare me like that!”
“S—s—sorry.” He came into the room and stood next to me.
“Wow. I never knew this was here.”
“I found this book in it.” I held my hand over my erratic heart and chuckled. “It’s weird that you managed to get me to scream, but the ghost I just met hadn’t.”
“You met a ghost?”
“Yeah. After I told her I wanted to help, she directed me to this hole in the wall.” I gestured behind me.
He entered, stopped next to me, and peered in. “I wonder who’s jewels and veil this is?”
“I’d be willing to bet we’ll find out by reading this book.” I shivered, still trying to not creep out about the spiders. “Could you brush off the webs for me?”
“Sure.” He wiped the book clean, handed it to me, and stepped closer to the cubby, attempting to reach in.
“Don’t!”
He jumped, holding his hand over his heart. “What?”
“Leave the items be. There’s a reason this is here, and I don’t want to disturb or do anything with them until I read the book,” I said, and added, “out of respect for the dead.”
“Good idea.” He closed the cubby and brushed his hands off on his jeans.
“Let’s go downstairs and see if you have any herbal teas to calm my nerves.”
“Good idea,” he said again.