“There was Mary Queen of Scots. She was held prisoner here.”
Simms clarified. “Not so much held prisoner as taken into protective custody.”
“Right you are. Anyway, on the darkest of stormy nights, one can hear her wailing in the walls of the keep.”
Jane cocked her head. “You have heard Mary Queen of Scots wailing in the walls?”
Carver shook his head. “Not so much Mary, but her ghost.”
Simms held up a finger. “And not so much wailing, but a low steady groan.”
Jane frowned. “A low steady groan? As if wind blowing through old stones?”
Simms beamed. “Exactly.”
Hester lifted her hand. “Why would the ghost of Mary Queen of Scots roam these grounds? She was beheaded much farther to the south.”
Carver shrugged. “As we are not experts on ghosts, it remains a mystery to us.”
Adam shook his head. This seemed a dead end, so to speak. The line of the letter mentioned a king, not a queen. Still, he wondered. “Did she perhaps escape? Take flight, as it were?”
Carver and Simms exchanged a glance. Simms offered explanation. “Not so much escaped as she was moved to another castle.”
“I see. So, she was not really a prisoner here, she did not die here, and she did not really escape from here. I fail to see any reason for her ghost to haunt the place.”
Carver nodded agreement. “What you say is true. In fact, the other ghost has far more reason to haunt the castle.”
Jane stepped nearly nose to nose with the startled soldier, perhaps running short on patience. “What other ghost?”
“Why, the ghost of King David, of course.”
“King David? Of the Bible?”
The soldiers laughed and Simms waved a dismissive hand. “No, miss. To my knowledge, that King David never visited Carlisle.”
“Or England, for that matter,” said Carver. “I speak of King David the First of Scotland.”
Adam grunted. “I hesitate to ask, but why would King David’s ghost haunt the keep?”
Carver stared at Adam as if he were a simpleton. “Because, sir, he died in the prayer room of the keep.”
Realization struck. He turned to find Jane staring at him, and together they spoke identical words. “Prostrate to pray where a king’s soul took flight!”
In his moment of exuberance, he grabbed her gloved hands and pumped them up and down. “This leaves little doubt as to the letters’ accuracy! And we appear to be at the right place!”
He wondered briefly why Jane did not share his joy but instead stared at him with wide eyes. When she dropped her gaze to their intermingled hands, he rediscovered reason. He snatched his hands away from hers as if dropping a hot poker.
“My apologies. I forgot myself.”
Her expression of surprise slowly faded into the barest of smiles. “So it seems. Very unbecoming of an enemy, wouldn’t you say?”
He could not help but note the color in her cheeks. “Indeed.”
Mercifully, Hester stepped between them and grabbed her niece’s hand. “Come, Jane. We must find a ghost.”
“Right,” said Adam. “Our fine escorts will show us the way.”
The soldiers exchanged a mortified glance. “Must we?” said Carver.
