Chapter Five #2
“Ghosts don’t exist.”
The woman’s laughter trickled over her body, giving her goosebumps. When she finally spoke, Elizabeth was confused as to how she understood her.
She was pretty sure it was in Gaelic.
Granted, that was one of the languages she understood some of, but it was still odd to understand it so well. It seemed to flip back and forth from Gaelic to English, and that English had a THICK Scottish accent.
“A’ve been waiting for ye tae arrive.”
Elizabeth wasn’t sure what this was all about, but after Gryphen and Ian telling her all about the place, and the ghosts there, she would be lying if she didn’t have a million and one questions.
Oh, she really was screwed on this one because the investigator in her was ALWAYS going to win.
Yep.
Hella.
Curious.
“Have you?” she asked.
The ghost nodded.
“A’m Ceit. A’m the lady o Ravensmire, or a wis. A see ye’re here now. We look alike.”
Yeah, she’d noticed.
It wasn’t like she could miss it. Elizabeth was sporting an oversized T-shirt, the one she went to bed in, and Ceit was in a tartan skirt, and linen-like shawl.
The tartan skirt was bright colors, and very pretty.
Other than the opposite attire, it was pretty much like looking in a mirror. There were slight differences, like Elizabeth was older.
Ceit was barely twenty—if that.
“Are you a ghost?” she asked. “Legitimately?”
Ceit laughed.
“Ay, a’m as dead as they come, Lass,” she said, tossing her hair over her shoulder.
It was longer than Elizabeth’s, but there were the same riotous curls.
Oh, boy.
There was no freaking way this was happening. What Elizabeth wanted was to freak out.
“Why are you here still? They put you to rest. They told me you were put in the crypt after they found out your father murdered you in cold blood because you wanted to go home.”
The woman moved closer.
“Thon’s a long story. Ma heart hurt bein here. Walk wi me, will ye?” she asked. “We can talk.”
Elizabeth was trying to translate even though it was in English. Apparently, Ceit wasn’t educated, but then again, back then, women were nothing more than cattle to be traded for their fathers.
That made her sad, too.
“Okay,” she said. “What do you want to talk about?” she asked, curiously.
The woman had her full attention.
It wasn’t like she could race out of there with bare legs and just a T-shirt on.
Now, could she?
Yep, she was a captive audience, ironically in her own castle. Yeah, she was definitely killing Callen and Chris—or giving them a harshly worded lecture.
This was what happened when you bought an abandoned castle from the sixteen hundreds.
This.
Right.
Here.
As they walked, Ceit directed her toward the other rooms, and Elizabeth followed.
“A’m no at peace.”
Uh, well, she wasn’t the only one, clearly. Because Elizabeth had been sound asleep, and comfortable. That was until the things went bump in the night really went bump in the night.
This was a whole hell of a lot weirder than Trey haunting her house.
For.
Sure.
At least he had the common sense not to wake her ass up and just haunted her phone during the daytime.
“Ma heart is still broken, Lass.”
Elizabeth understood that.
Hers was a little worse for wear, too. It appeared they had that in common.
“Ye miss yer husband?” Ceit asked.
Elizabeth was caught off guard, but she still answered because yeah, she did. Actually, she missed all of them, but what went down with Ethan plagued her mind most of the time.
“Yes.”
Ceit led them down the hallway, and toward the foyer. When she got there, she pointed up at the painting that was sitting there.
“Ma heart is blue. A wish a could find it.”
She was confused.
“You want to find your heart?”
She nodded.
“Isnae thon why ye’re here?” Ceit asked, still staring up at the painting. “Tae find ye heart?”
Elizabeth wasn’t sure how she knew why she was there, but then again, she was talking to a dead person so…
Who was she to question anything?
Clearly, she was out of her goddamn mind, and this was the first part of her breakdown.
“Yes,” she said. “My husband broke my heart. He lost faith in me.”
Ceit sighed.
“Men. They are troublesome creatures. A lost ma love. Death kept us apart.”
She was confused.
“Duncan was your love. He came home but you were dead. Your father killed you.”
Her smiled turned sad, and the laughter was gone, and in its place was sobbing.
“A lost our son. He wis taken from me. No aw words are truth, Lass.”
What the hell did that mean?
Only, she was overwhelmed. Now, Elizabeth felt her sorrow. It hit her in a wave as the sobbing echoed around them.
As a mother, she understood that fear, and that pain. Losing a child…
It was horrific.
“A wis supposit tae give him thon child. His child. I didnae. No before A deed.”
Elizabeth listened to the words. They weren’t only sad, but they were sing-song, and melodic.
Now, she was curious.
“What do you need for peace? There’s a curse here, supposedly, and I’d really like my castle not to be cursed, if you know what I mean.”
Ceit laughed.
“Oh, the curse. The only ane wha can break it is me. A must get ma heart back.”
Elizabeth lifted a brow.
Honestly, she wasn’t sure what any of this meant. It was so damn confusing, not only what she was saying, due to the slang, but also because she gave Duncan a son. She gave him his child before she died.
And what did she mean by ‘no aw words are truth’?
What words weren’t the truth?
As they started walking again, she wasn’t sure where she was bringing her. They were going deeper into the bowels of the castle.
Yeah, and it was getting chillier.
Yep.
She didn’t like this.
Now would be a good time for Michael to hear the sounds going on in the castle, and help her.
Someone forgot how to be a light sleeper. Tomorrow, she was busting his ass.
“How do I break it for you? Because I don’t know if you’re aware or not, Ceit, but you’re deader than a doornail. You’re nothing but bones now.”
She looked over at her.
“Ye’re a micht sassy, lass. A like thon.”
Yeah, well, she liked being a sassy lass, too. That’s why she did it. That was part of her vibe. In her world, she was taking a stand against the hyper-masculine bullshit that tried to break her for so many years.
“Again, how do I break the curse. What do I have to do to help you? Can you just break it?”
At first, she didn’t answer, but instead, kept the haunted tour continuing.
In fact, they walked toward a gated wall, and speaking of vibes, Elizabeth didn’t like it.
This place felt…heavy.
That’s when she put two and two together, and realized where Ceit had taken her. She was now deep in the bowels of the castle.
Oh, shit.
This was going to be the crypt.
She’d bet money on it.
Finally, Ceit answered her.
“Ye find me heart. It will give ye the answers ne neit to figure it oot.”
Oh, Lordy.
Again, with the heart.
Elizabeth wasn’t sure what she meant by that. Ceit was dead for a long time. If she meant her literal heart, someone was shit out of luck.
Ashes to ashes.
Ceit was dust.
“Where is it?” she asked, using her investigator big brain to keep questioning her so she could put this jackassery to bed.
Once.
And.
For.
All.
All she could think about was her kids or The President of the United States being here, and the place being filthy with ghosts.
Now, if they wanted to haunt Callen and Chris…
Well, Karma was a real thing.
Now, Ceit was standing by the three stone sarcophaguses that were UNFORTUNATELY in her castle.
Gently, she ran her hand over her own crypt, and Elizabeth watched her. It was odd how she avoided Duncan’s crypt.
And Ciarán’s.
Like.
The.
Plague.
“He stole it. A always haed it, until he took thon from me tae.”
She was confused.
“Who took it from you?” she asked. “Duncan?” she asked.
Ceit sadly shook her head.
“Na, his heart belongit tae another. Dinnae believe the words,” she said, and there was more sobbing.
She was confused.
Not with that again.
All around Elizabeth, the room got very cold, and that sent chills through her body.
“Okay, I have to find it. Again, where is your heart? I need more than ‘he took it’. Give me a bit more,” she said. “Because I need to break this curse and put you to rest. No offense, Ceit, but girl, you can’t be haunting my castle. Unfortunately for me, Ravensmire is mine now.”
As she said it, Ceit began getting misty.
“He lockit away.”
As the room went misty, Elizabeth tried to focus, but she was suddenly so tired. Everything around her all of a sudden got heavy—her arms, her legs, and her whole being felt like it was four hundred tons.
Now, all she wanted to do was get some sleep.
God.
She needed to sleep.
Maybe she’d just lay down for a few seconds to rest. Clearly, she was exhausted, because she didn’t think she could make the walk back to the Master’s Suite.
Seeing the flat stone slab, she climbed onto Ceit’s tomb, and laid there. She was so exhausted that the location didn’t even freak her out.
Elizabeth planned on a catnap on top of a dead woman’s bones in a crypt.
“Find ma heart. Then ye will find me.”
And with that, Elizabeth closed her eyes so she could find something more important.
Sleep.
Only, she didn’t realize that she’d never really woken up. She was still asleep.
In a room that NEVER slept.
Meanwhile…
So far, she was safe.
As Elizabeth walked down the hallway, they followed her to the foyer, and once there, she stood in front of the grand fireplace, staring up at the painting.
And not a word was said between her and them. She appeared to be out of it still, as she took some tour of the castle. Hopefully, she’d stay asleep because if she woke up, she was freaking the fuck out.
“That’s creepy,” Graham said. “She’s in a trance or something. She came right to that portrait.”
Yeah, he agreed there with what his husband had just said. This was so out of character, and he still didn’t know what to do.
Should he call Chris?
Get some medical advice?
Make her see a doctor?
An exorcist?
What?
“She’s clearly dreaming,” Michael said. “Or quite possibly possessed.”
Yeah, that was terrifying.