Chapter Seven
Darach watched Tess’ green eyes darken with displeasure. Clearly, her opinion of him supporting Emily’s claim of seeing a ghost was far less than flattering. While Darach attempted to banish the ghost from Tess’ house, she likely planned the same, for him.
He tried to tell himself ’twould be for the best if he left now. He’d be free of his growing attraction to her. Free of his growing attachment to Emily.
The thought put a hollow, empty ache in his belly.
But regardless of his personal fate, he bloody well dinnae intend to face eternity wondering what had become of these two lassies or what terrors they’d endured because he’d abandoned them in the face of potential danger! ’Twas already beyond bearing to carry the responsibility for leaving both his, and his friends’ mithers to face their fates alone.
By the saints, he wouldnae make that mistake again!
He needed to banish the intruder before Soncerae appeared and took the timing of Darach’s leavin’ out of his hands.
“Why don’t we finish exploring, Em, while Darachspeaksto Jack?”
Irritation edged Tess’ words, but Darach kenned it a necessary price to pay. “Aye,” he patted Em’s shoulder. “See what ye can find while I try tae come tae an understanding wi’ Jack about where he belongs.”
“Yes,” Tess gave Darach a hard look. “A clear understanding of our rightful places would be good for all of us.”
“Come on, Aunt Tess.” Emily tugged on Tess’ hand, pulling her down the gallery to their left. “Let’s find the bedrooms. I want to choose mine.”
“Don’t start picking paint colors quite yet, Em. As much as I want this place to work for us, there’s still a lot to consider.”
“Well,I’mvoting to stay,” Emily announced. “And then I can have the puppy you promised.”
“I said you could have one,once we were settled. We’re still a long way from…” Tess’s voice faded as they entered one of the rooms.
Smiling at the mental image of Emily playing in the restored garden with a bouncing, adoring puppy, Darach turned right and stepped up to the door the ghost had disappeared through. He drew a determined breath and tried the handle.
Locked.
Had he really expected less? He glanced down the corridor to be sure Tess and Emily were out of earshot and leaned close to the door. “Listen up, laddie, I dinnae ken what brought ye here, but ye cannae stay. As one ghost tae another, I’m tellin’ ye true. Ye’ve no place here. Ye must take yer leave.”
A chilling blast of cold air swept beneath the door, prompting a surprising shiver to course through Darach. “Och! Ye’re daft if ye ken yer wee tricks will scare me off! A ghost cannae frighten a ghost.”
Silence and another blast of cold air.
He allowed his mounting impatience to color his words. “Give over, man, and open the door before I break it down around yer stubborn, shadowy arse!”
His answer was a stronger burst of air accompanied by a faint, creaky rattle.
“That’s the best ye can do?” Darach grumbled. “Ye’re no’ verra good at this are ye?” He gave a derisive snort. “So, ’tis only wee lassies ye’ve the courage tae challenge, then?”
A moment of silence then a soft click and the door opened a couple of inches, enough for Darach to see a narrow slice of the light-filled room. He stepped inside and closed the door behind him.
The room wasn’t large, but the sun shining through the wide, bare window bathed the yellow walls, creating a golden glow. A stark contrast to the dim, shadowed areas of the house he’d seen, thus far.
Near the far corner, the ethereal shape of a fellow highlander stood with arms folded and shoulders bunched. Mayhap his surly expression was meant to intimidate, but ’twas easy for Darach to recognize the mixture of anger and anguish after living with them himself and observing them for centuries in the majority of The 79.
He nodded toward the man’s familiar plaid. “Clan Macpherson. I fought wi’ some o’em at Culloden. Braw lads, they were.”
“Aye!” The man’s expression turned indignant. “Tae a man!” He stood straighter and gave Darach a thorough inspection before he snorted. “Bah! A liar, is what ye are! What can a mortal possibly ken o’ Culloden? Stories and hearsay. Ye couldnae truly ken the caliber of men, nor the carnage at Drumossie Moor unless ye were there.”
He turned his head and shoulder away in disgust, then slowly turned back. “By what sorcery do ye, a worldly human, see and hear me?”
“I’ma ghost, the same as ye. I’ve been given this mortal state for a short time only, due tae thesorceryof a wee witch.” Darach challenged. “Idiedon Culloden’s battlefield. Are ye sayin’ ye did the same?”
“Aye,” the ghost grumbled, eying Darach warily.
