He glanced back at the Castle. “They say that dozens of ghosts inhabit Castle Keyvnor. Is it true?” He had never seen one but it was widely accepted that the castle was bursting at the seams with entities while others found places outside that they enjoyed haunting.
“Oh, there are.”
“Is it their unhappiness at being a ghost?” he asked. “Are they discontented from not moving on?”
“There is maliciousness in some.” She gave a shiver. “Those who might be the most dangerous have been bound, likely by a witch, to keep from hurting anyone. The rage is loud, a pounding noise of offkey notes, screeching strings on a violin. It is really quite painful to hear.”
He tugged on her arm to hasten their passing and crossed the border of the estate before anyone else. It was only when they reached the curve in the road leading down into Bocka Morrow that she finally relaxed.
“Well, that was rather unpleasant,” her mother said coming up from behind them. “I do not look forward to our return.”
“It is odd, I did not hear it as loudly when I first arrived at Nightshade Manor, or at any time that I have gone back and forth into Bocka Morrow,” Samantha wondered aloud.
“That is likely because we used a different road,” her mother offered.
“The one directly from Nightshade Manor still runs along Keyvnor lands, but there is also a larger separation filled with fields and woods. Perhaps it is the distance from the castle that lowers the volume,” Cassian suggested.
“Yes, that must be it. Therefore, on our return, I will be taking the longer route,” her mother insisted.
“As will I,” Samantha agreed and Cassian would be the one escorting her.
“I am surprised it bothered you as much as me,” Samantha said to her mother.
“Anger and evil are not as easily ignored or blocked,” her mother offered then walked ahead.
Cassian wanted to know what she meant but they had arrived at Christ Church where others had gathered and were entering to take their seats. While those who had lived in Bocka Morrow for generations had strong suspicions if not downright knowledge that Nightshade Manor was the home to witches, it was not spoken about in public, just as everyone pretended that there was no smuggling. However, the ghosts of Castle Keyvnor were not only known far and wide but discussed openly.
He followed the others in and then watched as Samantha stood in the aisle while others filed past her until only one seat remained on the end, which she took. As there was no place for him beside her, Cassian found a place to stand in the back along with the other men from Nightshade Manor, leaving the available seats for the women in the sanctuary that tended to overflow on holidays such as this.
Why had Samantha avoided sitting in the middle with her family and friends?
Church services, especially those that occurred to celebrate a religious holiday, were always difficult. Samantha had done her best to prepare but halfway through the service and even with the hymns that usually brought her joy, it became too much and she had to leave. Only when she stepped outside did she let the tears fall from heartache and mourning. It wasn’t until she reached the road and far enough away did the pain lessen and she was able to wipe her tears.
With a sigh, she sank down on a bench as exhaustion took hold.
“Is all well?”
She looked up to find Cassian standing before her.
“It is now,” she offered a weak smile.
“Why did you leave?” He sat down next to her. “Did the vicar say something upsetting?”
“No.” She shook her head. “This is a difficult time of year for many people.”
“Christmas?” he asked in surprise.
“Most of the parishioners may appear to be happy, but it is because they do not want anyone to worry, or lessen the spirit of others, and some are too private, but the pain is there.”
“What pain?”
“Parents who are missing children who live too far away, or longing for a time when they were still young, a broken heart, mourning a loved one, loneliness,” she explained. “This is a holiday of peace, joy, hope and most are surrounded by love and family. But for those who have lost someone or are alone, it can be very painful.”
“You heard their music?” he asked quietly.
“Yes. It is often heard louder because pain is often felt stronger than joy and I had to leave or I would have burst into tears. I would not draw such attention to myself, nor did I want to make an excuse to a stranger who might approach out of concern.”
“Or nosiness.”
