by Haley Harper
Shannon nodded. Packing is done, house is organized, and Edgar is in the car ready for his sleepover with Grandma.”
“Wonderful,” Myra nodded. “I’m looking forward to having him.” Burt sat quietly as the two women exchanged greetings.
“You don’t mind dog sitting do you, Burt?”
“Not one single bit. The old guy and I have become great pals. He is quite taken with my collection of old footballs.”
“Just don’t let him ruin anything.”
“No worries.” Burt waved his hand in the air. “I only give him the ones I want him to have.”
“Good,” Shannon nodded. “He can be a little mischievous at times.”
As the waitress came to take their orders, Shannon felt her cell phone vibrate in her pocket. The screen indicated that she had a text message from Kevin. She glanced at the message quickly and then responded that she was out to dinner with her mom and would text him as soon as she got home.
“Looks like our romance isn’t the only one blooming,” her mom smiled. “How is Kevin?”
Shannon felt the color rush to her cheeks. “He’s just fine. He’s coming to Virginia the week after I get back.”
Her mom beamed at the news. “Well that’s really good news because Burt and I have something special planned for when you return.”
Shannon raised her eyebrows. “Oh yeah? And what might that be?”
Myra reached across the table and took Burt’s hand in hers again. “Oh, just a simple little wedding ceremony.” Shannon felt her jaw drop. For a second, she was speechless.
“You guys are getting married?” She watched as they both grinned and nodded. “That’s fantastic. I’m so happy for you.” She turned sideways in the booth to hug her Mom and then stood and reached across the booth to do the same to Burt. “And the date is already set?”
Myra nodded. “Sept. 28. The Saturday after you get back, so don’t extend your stay.”
Shannon laughed. “Don’t worry. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
“Good. And I hope you will do me the honor of standing up with me. Burt’s son James is going to be his best man.”
“I would be honored,” Shannon smiled.
Their food arrived and the rest of the evening was spent discussing wedding plans, honeymoon possibilities and Shannon’s trip. Three hours later they exchanged hugs in the parking lot once Edgar had been transferred from Shannon’s car to Burt’s truck, and said their goodbyes.
Shannon drove home with a happy heart, thinking about all the good things that were going on in her life right then. She suddenly couldn’t wait to get home and text Kevin, so she could share the news about her mom.
Really wanting to hear his voice, she decided to call rather than text. She was trying to keep her expenses down since the advance on this book had been very small, but that wasn’t going to stop her from splurging on one little phone call!
Kevin answered on the second ring. “Hi, babe,” he said cheerfully. “I thought you were watching your pennies. This is a long distance call you know.”
“Want me to hang up?” she teased.
“Don’t you dare. I’ll send you some cash if need be, just keep talking. The sound of your voice just made my day.”
“What a sweet thing to say,” Shannon laughed. “I have news. Mom and Burt are getting married the week I get back.”
“Awesome! Are you happy about it?”
“Absolutely! You should see them. It’s so cute!”
“I can’t wait. I feel privileged to be meeting them for the first time for such a happy occasion. Now all you have to do is get your research finished up and get back home so we can all celebrate.”
They chatted for a few more minutes and then reluctantly said goodbye. Shannon promised to keep in touch as best she could, and to stay away from any murder investigations.
She hoped that she would be able to keep that promise, but so far her record on that subject was not very good.
Chapter Two:
Shannon eased her rental car to the side of the road, and pulled out both her guidebook and the road map. The man at the car place had assured her in a thick brogue that this map would get her anywhere she needed to go.
“Very detailed”, he'd said. “Easy to read,” he said. Now Shannon let out a little bleat of frustration. She was tempted to pull out her phone and turn on the GPS, but who knew how expensive that would be. Her phone bill was going to kill her when she got home.
The castle she was staying at was supposedly down a little country lane off a slightly larger county road, miles away from any main thoroughfare. At least that’s where it was supposed to be according to the website.
As she stared at the map, she had no idea where that could be, and it wasn't like there were any gas stations or convenience stores to pop into to ask for directions. There didn't even appear to be any houses in the area, she thought as she peered out through the foggy windshield.
The gun metal gray clouds had started to break toward the horizon--she thought it was the western one--and rays of golden light burst through in places. Shannon sat back in her seat, and admired the view for a moment. So far Ireland hadn't been exactly what she had expected, but that was alright. She had plenty of trip left for “sparkling blue skies above pristine, vibrant green fields.” They didn't call it the Emerald Isle for nothing, she hoped.
Off in the distance something moved catching her eye, and she sat up straighter. There were actually several “somethings” moving. They looked like sheep, though they were only tiny white dots at the moment.
Behind the fuzzy blobs another shape moved along at a steady pace, but this one seemed to be walking erect on two feet. Shannon's heart jumped for joy. Another human who could direct her to the castle!
She put the car back in gear and started inching the little car forward. As she navigated the tiny lane, she considered using this current experience in one of her next mystery series. Her heroine could be stranded in the Irish countryside, only to be rescued by a handsome stranger who had a dark and mysterious past.
Slightly cliché, but she might be able to work with it. She chuckled to herself, thinking how her mind was always on the next book or the next project. She was amazed at times that she ever got her current projects finished.
The book she was writing now was about ghosts, not one of her mysteries. It was a landed contract, one that would pay the bills for a while and she had to get it done on time. This was her last research trip and she knew she needed to stay focused.
Shannon came to the crossroads just as the sky clouded over again. Within a matter of minutes rain began to fall again, and she sighed. There would be little chance she'd make it back up this hill in a deluge. Her tires had just barely fit into the ruts of the lane, and she feared that the road would wash out. She peered into the dusk like darkness for the sheep and their shepherd but she didn't see anything. Could they have turned a different way?
From the corner of her eye, Shannon caught a flash of movement. It looked like a flash of gray fabric. Could it be that the infamous “Lady in Grey” had left the castle and was roaming the countryside? Out here in the fog and rain she suddenly felt as though her imagination was going wild. First sheep and now ghosts? She knew that she needed to get a grip. But the stories she had read about the The Lady in Grey had been quite haunting.
This story went that a woman--in some stories called Eleanor, in others called Eliza--had been married to a duke or a count or some other titled landholder in merry old England in the late nineteenth century. The two had an apparently magical marriage, like something out of a fairy tale. But much like those stories this one had a dark cloud hanging over it. The otherwise happy couple was not able to conceive a child. Ell, as Shannon referred to her, sank into a deep depression. The good husband tried everything he could to pull his beloved wife from her despair but nothing worked.
Not long into their marriage, the good baron passed away. Some stories say it was illness, o
thers state that it was one of his own greedy relatives that did him in. At any rate, the young and beautiful Ell inherited his estate.
Unfortunately, the grieving widow wanted nothing to do with it, and returned home to her family in Ireland. They had had a falling out when she married the Baron and she hadn’t spoken to them since. She hoped in her heart that they would forgive her and welcome her back into the family.
But alas, tragedy lay in store for the poor lady once again. She arrived only to find that her family home had burned to the ground, and all of her family had perished in the fire.
Legend has it that she went insane at that moment. She began to stalk the small village in her black funeral attire, which over time faded to gray. Hence she became known as the Lady in Grey. As time went on, her mental state continued to deteriorate. She stalked the village streets, ranting and raving in her madness, sometimes terrorizing small children and weeping hysterically on people’s doorsteps. Some reports say she was seen on several occasions stealing food from unlocked kitchens in the middle of the night.
Then one night the Lady in Grey was found impaled on the gatepost of the Castle Moran. No one seems to know how or why she ended up there, but she is said to haunt the castle to this day.
Before the castle was purchased by Braden and Maeve O’Toole, it was run as an inn with guests and ghost hunters seeking it out for adventure. Many report strange things happening throughout their stay, like cold air on their necks, or objects floating about the room.
Others told of thefts that couldn’t be explained, where the items were later discovered in the possession of someone in town who would have had no way of obtaining them.
But these were ghost stories, after all, and who knows how much of what a spooked out person says is truth.
“You have to take it all with a grain of salt,” her mother would say. As a self proclaimed medium, her mother was able talk to spirits, or so she claimed. Shannon took all of her words with a grain of salt as well. At any rate, there was no ghost out here in the Irish countryside and she really needed to get to the castle. Kevin would be waiting for her email and she didn’t want him to be worried.
She let her mind wander to thoughts of him for just a second. It was hard to believe that they had met just a few short weeks ago on her trip to Maine. It seemed to her sometimes like they had known each other forever. After getting off to a bit of a rocky start their relationship had become easy and exciting all at the same time.
She was looking forward to her stay here in Ireland, but it was different travelling when your heart was somewhere else. This was the last trip for research on her latest book and then she would give serious consideration to her move to Maine. Right now, she needed to get to the castle.
As the rain continued to fall, she peered out through the windshield hoping to see the sheep and their master again. Sure enough as she was squinting through the gathering gloom, she saw the fluffy white creatures crest the next ridge followed by a man carrying a satchel and a staff. She was so excited to see an actual human being that she flung the car door open, and stepped out into the drizzle.
The slip on loafers she had worn for travel were no match for the muddy and rutted path. She could feel the backs of her shoes sinking into the fresh mud. The path curved down to the base of the hill, and as she came around the corner Shannon was confronted with the mass of wooly white.
“Hello there,” a voice called.
Distracted by the bleating animals that had begun to move around her, Shannon glanced up at the man who had called to her. She smiled and waved. “Hello. I’m lost. Do you think you could give me directions to Castle Moran?”
“You’re almost there,” the man said with a laugh as he came closer. He was just a bit taller than she was, and despite his slightly elfin features, he was handsome with a shock of red hair touched only here and there by grey. Bright green eyes sparkled in spite of the gloomy day and gave the impression he had probably been quite a mischievous lad in his younger days.
He was exactly the clichéd vision of an Irishman that Shannon had read about. She guessed him to be in his mid fifties, but she wasn’t a very good judge of age.
“I’m Sean Shepherd.”
Shannon burst out laughing, but reined in her mirth when she saw the puzzled look on his face. “Oh, you’re serious. Sorry. It’s just here you are walking with the sheep, carrying that stick and looking like a shepherd….then you say your name is….oh never mind. I’m sorry. That was rude of me. I’m Shannon Porter,” she said as she extended her hand.
He took it and chuckled. “Just joshing you. My name is really Sean Sheppard, but I’m not really a shepherd. I’m just helping to get these meandering balls of wool back home. I actually work at Castle Moran.”
“You do?” Shannon could feel herself lighting up, relieved that he was friendly, and especially happy that he was from the castle.
“I’m head groundskeeper. Might not sound too glamorous but I enjoy it”
“It sounds great actually. So, can you tell me how to get to the castle? I’d say I’d just follow you there, but I’m driving and you obviously have to walk,” she said waving her hand in the direction of the sheep, and trying not to laugh at his joke all over again.
“Sure,” Sean said. “When you get back to your car, stay straight on the road for about a kilometer. The drive is to the left. Then you go another kilometer in, and there you’ll be.”
Shannon had to mentally convert kilometers to miles. “Thanks. I appreciate the help. Maybe I’ll see you later?”
“I’m sure I’ll run into you,” he said with a grin.
“Good luck with your sheep,” she called over her shoulder as she began the walk back up the hill. The rain had intensified slightly, but she’d been so wrapped up in her conversation with Sean that she hadn’t realized how wet she was. She was soaked to her skin, and she started to shiver.
Rivulets of water ran through the ruts in the road, and she walked on the edge to avoid getting her shoes even muddier. When she glanced over her shoulder she saw Sean herding the sheep across the road. He looked up just as she was ready to turn away, and gave her another grin. Back in the car, she turned the heat on as high as it would go.
She carefully navigated down the hill the way Sean had indicated. By the time she passed the spot where he had been, both he and the sheep had disappeared around another curve of the opposite hill.
Just as Sean had said, within a few minutes, the castle drive came into view. The grounds were expansive, slipping off in every direction as far as she could see. When she came through a tunnel of trees, thickly bloomed with dark green leaves, the castle itself rose in front of her with its’ turrets and ornate design. She half expected to cross a moat before she could enter the premises.
Chapter Three
She parked beside several other cars, and climbed out. The rain had lessened to a light drizzle, but her clothing hadn’t dried all that much on her short drive so she still felt clammy and cold. Retrieving her suitcase from the trunk—the boot, she reminded herself—Shannon approached the castle with a sense of awe over the immensity of what lay before her.
The heavy doors opened easily, and she entered a grand foyer with an atrium that rose two stories. She assumed that the glass dome at the top wasn’t original to the castle, but it was breathtaking nonetheless. The wood paneled walls gleamed and a winding staircase dominated the center of the room.
No one was at a large oak desk just inside the entry so Shannon set her bag down on the floor, and walked over to the opposite wall to examine the photographs that hung there.
Most of the pictures featured the same woman whom Shannon recognized as the owner of the castle. Shannon could tell that she had lived much in her sixty plus years, and she was still running the business to this day in fact. She reminded Shannon a lot of her mom.
“You must be Shannon Porter.”
Shannon turned toward the sound of a lilting Gaelic accent, and came face to fa
ce with the woman in question. “I am. You must be Maeve O’Toole.”
“That I am,” Maeve said as she reached out to shake Shannon’s hand.
“This place is amazing,” Shannon said as she returned the greeting, and then followed the woman to the desk.
Maeve pulled out a guest register that was at least two inches thick. The older woman flipped it open until she came to a fresh page, and handed Shannon a pen. “Just fill in your information, sweetie, and I’ll have my son take you up to your room.”
Shannon smiled as she signed her name and wrote down her address. “Thank you. I’m so glad to be here and I’m anxious for us to chat about your resident ghost.” Maeve patted Shannon’s hand.
“’I’m looking forward to that too, dear. Perhaps we can find some time after dinner, which will be served in the formal dining room at seven o’clock. I’m sure you have oodles of questions, you being a writer and all.”
“Well, yes,” Shannon confirmed, it seems to be a curse that I live with, always asking questions. Castle Moran and its’ ghost are going to add a lot to my latest book.”
Maeve smiled and waved her hand absently as if to dismiss her. “Why don’t you go unpack, dear? We’ll have plenty of time to chat later.”
Shannon nodded, a bit taken aback at the abrupt change in conversation. Maybe the woman had other things to attend to. But she quickly rallied, and tried to regain a positive attitude.
“Ah here’s my son, Aidan, now. Aidan, be a dear and help Shannon here with her bags. I’ll see you both at dinner.” Maeve waved her hand at them as Aidan picked up her largest suitcase.
“Um, thank you,” Shannon stammered as her hostess walked away. Seeing her confusion, the middle aged man in front of her smiled.
“My mother can be a little scattered at times,” he said apologetically, “and she insists on running this place the way it has always been, formal dinners and all.”
“I think it’s charming,” Shannon said as she hurried to keep up with him. They headed up the huge flight of stairs that curved up from the atrium to the second floor. The castle was amazing, and Shannon felt slightly breathless as they continued down the hall.