“It’s always the quiet ones who manage it. Before you know it even began to happen, you’re already wrapped so tight around their finger, you can’t get loose.”
This was absolutely true.
“Good thing is, you don’t want to,” Angus finished softly, grinned his manic grin, turned on a whirl of his kilt and stomped out.
“Do I?” Belle asked softly and Jack looked from the door to her.
“Have me wrapped around your finger?” Jack asked back and she nodded. His arms got tighter as he answered, “Absolutely.”
“How did I manage to wrap criminally handsome James Bennett around my finger?”
Criminally handsome James Bennett?
Jack smiled through his response. “If you don’t know, poppet, it’s not me who’s going to tell you.”
Her eyes drifted to his shoulder as she murmured, “I’ll ask Mom.”
Rachel wouldn’t know.
Jensen would.
Jack didn’t tell her that either.
He gathered her closer, dipped his head and at the tightening of his arms, hers tipped back.
Then he kissed her.
She kissed him back, she did it without delay, it got heated to the point she moaned sweetly into his mouth and in so doing Belle Abbot wound Jack Bennett even tighter.
* * * * *
Lewis and Myrtle
“Lewis! What’s happening?” Myrtle screeched as, powerless, they were pulled from their hiding place and they materialised in the eastern turret, Lewis standing strong, his arms wrapped tight around his quivering little sister.
She had her face tucked in his neck but Lewis looked around.
The witch was there. The Scot too, in his kilt. Two others were there, a brother and sister, like him and Myrtle, Lewis could tell.
And Belle.
They were all staring at Lewis and Myrtle, gentle looks on their faces.
But Lewis felt it coming from the red-headed siblings. The man was standing, feet planted apart, arms crossed on his broad chest. The woman had her hands on her hips. But Lewis felt their power.
They were holding him and Myrtle there.
When they arrived, though, it was only Belle who moved.
Coming toward them and crouching down, her pretty, soft grey eyes on Lewis’s, she whispered in her musical voice, “Hello, my darlings.”
Lewis closed his eyes because her talking to him in that voice, that look on her face, it reminded him of…
“Belle.”
That was Myrtle. Lewis felt her turn her head and rest her cheek against his collarbone. He opened his eyes and tipped his chin down to see his sister shyly looking at Belle.
“Yes, Myrtle. I’m Belle. I know who you are and I know who Lewis is. What I want you to know is, you’re safe. All these people,” she threw her arm out, “and I are here to help you.”
“We know,” Lewis told her.
She dropped to her knees then rested her bottom on her calves as she tipped her head to the side and asked, “You know?”
Lewis nodded.
“If you know we’re here to help, why have you been hiding?” she went on gently and Lewis pulled his sister closer.
Then he looked to the red-headed woman before his eyes went to the man. “Let Myrtle go.”
“Lewis, darling, we need to talk to you,” Belle stated and he looked to her. “Don’t be scared. We’d never, ever harm you. Not one of us.”
“Please,” he whispered, “let Myrtle go.”
“I want to stay,” Myrtle said quietly.
“She has to go,” Lewis demanded, his back going straight, his gaze moving again to the red-headed man.
The man stared him straight in the eyes then looked to his sister and nodded.
Myrtle disintegrated in his arms.
Lewis drew in a ghostly breath.
“You’re protecting her, right, laddie?” the older Scot asked and Lewis nodded again. “She doesn’t know you saw him,” the Scot went on and Lewis nodded again.
“Who is he, sweetheart?” Belle asked and Lewis looked back at her.
“The bad man.”
She scooted forward on her knees toward him, he held his place and she settled again. “Who’s the bad man, Lewis?”
“You know,” he replied.
He watched her pull in a soft breath then she queried, “Miles?” and Lewis’s ghostly brows came together in confusion.
“Miles?”
“Is he the bad man?”
Lewis shook his head and Belle’s eyes darted amongst the others in the turret before coming back to him. “Who’s the bad man, then, darling?”
Lewis looked to the floor, shuffled his see-through toe through the floorboards and muttered, “Hurt Mum. On the cliff. Saw it. Watched it. But Myrtle and me were already dead.”
“Oh sweetheart,” Belle whispered, her voice trembling with an ache that felt a lot like what Lewis felt deep inside whenever he thought of it the many, many, many, many times he remembered it over the years.
“Matey,” he heard and his eyes went to the witch, “was Miles there the night the bad man hurt Belle?”
Lewis kept her gaze and nodded but replied, “Shimmered through.”
“The bad man took control,” the witch said. “He took control of Miles.”
Lewis nodded yet again.
“You saw him, through Miles,” she pressed and Lewis nodded again.
“Shimmered through,” he repeated. “And he saw me.”
“Oh God,” Belle whispered and Lewis looked to her then leaned into her with ghostly, childish fervour.
“I wanted to help,” he whispered back fiercely and her face melted in a way that both hurt to look at and made him feel really nice. “I wanted to help, I tried but there was nothing I could do.”
“I know you did, sweetheart.”
“He took your baby away.” Lewis kept whispering and this time Belle nodded. “I’m sorry,” he finished so quiet, he could barely hear his ethereal words.
“Me too,” she returned in a whisper just as quiet and he saw her eyes get wet. Then he watched her pull in another breath, this one trembling and she continued, “But we’re not here about that. We’re here to help you. We just don’t know how and we need you to help us help you.”
“You’re here to send us home,” Lewis stated and Belle nodded again.
“Yes, Lewis, we just need to know how. We’re all ready. Jack and me with all this help from Angus, Cassandra, Lachlan and Lorna. Everyone’s ready. You just need to tell us what we need to do.”
“Don’t know,” Lewis told her and her head tilted again.
“You don’t know?”
“Only know it’s you.”
Belle’s eyes quickly darted to the others again before she looked back at Lewis. “Do you maybe have an idea?”
Lewis shook his head.
“Does Myrtle?” Belle asked.
Lewis shook his head again.
“Well, darn,” Belle muttered, looking at the floor.
“You need to beware of the bad man,” Lewis told her quickly and her eyes came back to him.
“I know, darling.”
“He wants to hurt you.”
“I know, Lewis. We’re taking care of that.”
“If something happens to you, Jack will never be happy. He’ll never be happy again. And we’ll never go home,” Lewis kept going.
“Nothing’s going to happen to me, Lewis,” she said gently.
“Poppa was never happy. He smiled and he pretended. Sometimes, with the others, his other children, the ones he had with his new wife, it looked real. But when he was alone, we knew. Myrtle and me, we knew. He was always at the window, looking at her cliff. And when he did, his face was sad.”
He watched the tears gather in her eyes as she scooted even closer and lifted her hand up, palm toward him and she whispered, “Stop, Lewis. Stop thinking about that, darling. Nothing is going to happen to me. I promise. Nothing. And we’re going to get you
home. I promise that too. Do you believe me?”
He held her eyes as he watched one tear fall and slide down her cheek.
Then he nodded again.
“Put your hand up, sweetheart, up against mine,” she urged.
“You can’t touch me,” he informed her.
“Yes, I can. Put your hand up, Lewis, up against mine,” she repeated and he did as he was told.
Just as he thought, his hand went through, melding partly with hers but when his eyes went from their hands to her face, he saw more tears, her lips quivering and a tenderness so deep, so familiar, so beloved, so longed for in her eyes, if he had breath, it would catch.
“I promise, darling,” she whispered, her voice scratchy, “I’m going to get you and your sister home.”
“I believe you, Belle,” he whispered back and he did. He saw it. He felt it.
“Think, Lewis, if you have any ideas, you let one of us know. You’re safe with all of us. Anyone in this castle.”
He nodded.
“You can’t appear before Jack,” she stated but it was a question.
He shook his head.
“Do you know why?” she asked.
He shook his head again. “Just that, something bad will happen.”
She nodded. “Okay, Lewis. Jack understands. He’d like to talk to you, meet you, but he understands.”
Lewis knew that. Jack was very understanding.
“Myrtle is going to be scared. Can I go to her now?” he requested.
“Of course, sweetheart,” Belle replied.
He drifted back a few feet and she dropped her hand.
“I’ll think, Belle, I promise,” he told her. “And I’ll tell you if I figure something out.”
“Okay, sweetheart. Give Myrtle a hug for me.”
Lewis screwed his face up and Belle smiled at him, dashing her hands on her cheeks to dry her tears.
“You were just holding her a few minutes ago,” she reminded him.
“I just do that when she’s scared,” he informed her.
“Well, for me, give her a hug just because,” Belle ordered gently.
“Oh, all right,” Lewis gave in.
“Go to your sister, darling,” she urged on another small, sweet smile.
He nodded.
Then he looked around at the gentle eyes on him.
Then he disappeared and went to his sister.
* * * * *
Belle
“I told you so,” Jack’s quiet voice that held a hint of humour rumbled through her and Belle, lying in the window seat between his bent legs, her upper body pressed to his, her cheek on his chest, lifted her head to look at him through the dark.
“Be quiet,” she whispered.
She saw the white flash of his smile as his hand came up, his fingers sifting into her hair at the side and he pulled it gently back. “It’s going to be okay,” he assured her and she nodded.
“I felt it, Jack,” she reminded him of what she’d told him earlier that evening. “When Lewis touched me, I felt it. I don’t know what it was but I felt it.”
“That just means you can help, poppet.”
She drew in an unsteady breath.
Then she nodded again and rested her cheek back on his chest, giving him a squeeze with her arms that were wound around him.
Jack’s hand left her hair so both his arms could close around her and he returned the squeeze.
She studied the inky night out the window.
After some time, Jack repeated on a murmur, “It’s all going to be okay, my love.”
“All right, Jack.”
“Can we go to bed now?” he queried.
She nodded again, her cheek sliding on his chest.
Jack shifted, moving her with him. Picking her up in his arms, they exited the window seat and he carried her to bed.
The dogs settled on her side.
Jack settled curled into her.
“Sorry our Sunday was ruined, honey,” she muttered into the night.
“It started brilliant and it’s not ending all that badly. You’re upset about Lewis and Myrtle but you’re also right here,” his arm around her tightened, “and that works for me.”
She smiled into the pillow. That worked for her too.
Then she sighed.
After that, she whispered, “I love you, Jack Bennett.”
“And I you, poppet,” Jack replied.
Belle blinked into the dark room.
On the third blink, her eyes didn’t reopen and she drifted into sleep in the protective embrace of James Bennett.
Chapter Twenty-One
Possessed
Belle
Belle sat in the chair in the bay window in Jack’s study as Jack sat behind his desk.
She had her sketch pad in front of her but her eyes were trained on the view.
She wasn’t seeing the view though. She was thinking of the last four days through all of which nothing had happened.
Not one thing.
Well, not exactly
She woke up with Jack, she went to bed by Jack and she loved doing both. Jack also made love to her and, sometimes, he was adventurous in a gentle way and she loved that too (maybe even more). She always had breakfast with Jack and usually, due to the hour, they were alone and she also loved that. If he was at home, she usually had dinner with Jack, though they were never alone but were surrounded by family so she loved that as well. And Jack always came home in time for both of them to take Baron and Gretl for a walk and she loved that too.
She also went to work but spent half her time working, half her time trying to convince Belinda that Dirk was not her prince charming come to St. Ives to sweep her off her feet except he didn’t know it and had to be convinced. Belle was failing in this endeavour just as Dirk was failing in that same endeavour. This made work interesting and sometimes amusing if it didn’t help to get it done.
Her father was still there which meant anything could happen but luckily he was behaving himself and mostly spending his time sightseeing, sometimes alone, sometimes with Rachel. This meant, if he was (or they were) causing mayhem, it was luckily somewhere else.
But although she’d seen and spoken to Myrtle and Lewis several times since Sunday, it was only to get to know them. And the more she got to know them, the more she liked them and the more determined she was to get them “home”.
Other than that, nothing had happened. No great stroke of genius hit her as to how to release the children to the next plane. Lewis hadn’t come up with anything. And neither did any of the Ghost Helpers.
“Calm before the storm, love, enjoy it,” Jack had muttered when she’d shared her impatience with him.
And he was right. Something was coming.
She just wished it would get there so they could deal with it, she could take care of those children and everyone could move on.
But she currently had something else on her mind and that was the fact that Joy had finally talked Miles into having a chat. She, Cassandra and Lorna were with him at Yasmin’s as Belle sat in Jack’s study at The Point not seeing the view.
So she was also worried.
“Belle,” Jack called.
“Yes?” Belle answered the view.
“Love, look at me,” he ordered gently, her head turned to him and her eyes caught his green ones. “It will all be fine.”
As ever, he knew her thoughts and he knew when she needed his reassurance.
That said, she wasn’t exactly reassured.
“You keep saying that, Jack, but nothing’s happening,” she reminded him not remembering you should be careful what you wish for because just as she said it, she heard the door fly open.
Jack’s head whipped to it as he swiftly rose from his chair and Belle leaned and twisted to look around the back of her own.
Angus was advancing, looking agitated.
“Laddie, we got a –” he started to tell Jack but didn’t finish.
This was because Miles s
tormed in after Angus, his face red and his expression murderous.
With just one look at his face, not even fully taking in his threatening gait, Belle’s body froze solid.
“I cannot fucking believe you!” he shouted, stalking straight toward the desk and thus Jack.
Angus moved in front of him and Belle gasped and jumped from her chair, tossing down her sketchpad and pencil as Miles put his hands on Angus, threw him bodily to the side and Angus went flying, kilt awhirl, arms wheeling.
At that, the room became a bustle of action.
Jack quickly rounded his desk, growling, “Belle, do not move,” just as Lachlan, Cassandra, Joy and Lorna came flying into the room, in that order.
“Miles, calm down,” Jack ordered and Miles stopped in front of Jack, lifted a hand, planted it in Jack’s chest and pushed off but Jack stood solid and didn’t even sway. However, he did lift an arm to shove his brother’s hand from his chest.
“Jesus, I cannot believe you. I cannot…” Miles leaned in, his face getting redder, “fucking… believe you!”
“Miles, I will repeat, calm down,” Jack said in a low, even voice.
“Did you tell Belle that shit?” Miles bit out. “Did you tell Belle like you told Mum that I fucking pushed your woman down the stairs?” he bellowed the last words in fury.
Oh goodness gracious!
Suddenly the room again filled with action as Miles didn’t pause for an answer but aimed a punch at Jack.
Belle gasped and took two steps forward but stopped when she saw Jack duck and Miles missed him. At the same time, Angus and Lachlan sprang forward and Lila, Rachel and Jensen raced into the room, Lila shouting, “What on earth is going on?”
Miles recovered, aimed another punch, Lila and Rachel gasped loudly and Dad ran toward the brothers as Lachlan latched onto both of Miles’s arms and yanked them hard behind his back.
“Please, don’t hurt him!” Joy cried, throwing a beseeching arm toward Lachlan and Miles while her other hand went to her chest.
Miles ignored his mother, struggled against Lachlan’s hold, his eyes locked on Jack and he shouted, “I did not push Belle down the fucking stairs!”
Angus got close and said in his soft burr, “You didn’t, laddie, the spirit inside you did.”
Still jerking against his captor, Mile’s enraged eyes sliced to Angus and he spat, “That’s what that brunette bitch told me, old man, and that’s fucked up.” His eyes then cut to Belle. “I did not push you.”
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