Page 13 of Highland Ghost

“I – I saw a g-ghost,” she said, crying and struggling to breathe.

“Now, calm down, and stop this,” he said in a calm voice. “Ye are shakin’ like a leaf, lass.” He took her over to his bed, helping her to get settled atop it. He had yet to change for the night and still wore his clothes, the same as she.

“Y-ye’ve got to believe me!” The girl was frantic, and Ian now regretted not forcing some of that damned Mountain Magic down her throat earlier. If he had, at least she’d be sleeping soundly instead of creeping around the corridors at night, sneaking into rooms where she didn’t belong.

“I do believe ye,” he said, putting his arm around her, sitting next to her. He pulled her closer to him and gently rubbed her back as she hid her face against his chest. His leine was unlaced, and he felt her wet tears against his skin.

“Y-ye do?” Looking up at him with wet, wide eyes, she sniffled.

“Aye,” he said, reaching for a hand cloth on the table next to the bed, and using it to dry her tears. He couldn’t keep this secret from the girl any longer. It was only going to be a barrier between them once they married. That was not at all what he wanted in a wife. “Caitlin, there is somethin’ I should have told ye before the betrothal document was ever signed.”

“W-what is that?” she asked, her arms closing around him for protection.

“I . . . I havena been totally honest with ye. Regardin’ the ghosts, that is.”

“So, I was right! There really are ghosts in this castle.”

“Aye. There are.” He let out a sigh, still holding her close, feeling her shaking starting to subside. “I think ye saw them tonight. Didna ye?”

“I – I saw a piper with no fingers playin’ the bagpipes out in the garden.”

“That’s Bernard,” he said with a nod.

“And I also saw a paintin’ of a woman wearin’ this same dress that I have on. She then turned into a ghostly figure and flew at me. I was so scared!”

“Yep. Ye saw my grandaunt, Sylvia MacBain.”

“S-she’s dead?”

“Aye. And so is her lover, Bernard.”

“W-what happened?”

“Well, I didna want to tell ye about this, because I thought ye’d be scared off like the rest of the castle’s occupants.”

“I need to ken. Please tell me everythin’ and leave nothin’ out.”

“I will. But first, I want ye to relax.” He got up to leave, but she held on to his arm tightly.

“P-please dinna leave me, Ian MacBain.”

“I’m only goin’ over to stoke the fire and get some whisky.”

“Och, I dinna want that potent brew.”

“Dinna worry, the Mountain Magic is all gone. I only have regular whisky. I’ll be right back, I promise.” He walked over and stoked the fire, and then grabbed a bottle off the table and returned. “Here,” he said, uncorking the bottle and handing it to her. “Take a swig before I begin the story. Ye’re goin’ to need it.”

“All right,” she said, not fighting him this time. She took a small drink and made a face, coughed, and handed the bottle back to him.

“One more,” he said, holding her hand as she took another sip. Then he took a long draw from the bottle, corked it and placed it on the bedside table. “Lie back on my bed and relax, Caitlin.”

She looked apprehensive to do so.

“I promise ye, yer virtue is safe with me. I willna touch ye in that way. I only want ye to be comfortable.”

“I believe ye,” she said, looking down at her gown once more. “But first, I dinna want to wear the gown of a ghost anymore.”

“I agree,” he said, getting up and walking over to a trunk, flipping open the lid. “I dinna think Sylvia likes that ye have on the gown she died in.”