Chapter 5
“Are you alright, my love?”
I turned to Miss Akin, who was busy kneading dough on the kitchen counter. Since returning to the house some twenty minutes before, I hadn’t left her side. Honestly, I was afraid to. Not that I believed the ghost could hurt me, but she had unsettled me in a way that would make falling asleep tonight tough.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” I said to pacify her. I was far from fine. I could still see the ghost, those dark eyes—that terrifying stare and the dread that had filled me when I’d noticed her sitting on the cemetery stone wall.
I glanced out the window, half expecting her to be there, staring back at me. Would she dare come in?
Did Ian know her? I mean, was it possible for two ghosts to exist and not be aware of the other? I chewed my bottom lip. But why would he not see her and I could?
“So, did you and your brother go to the castle?” Miss Akin asked.
My heart gave a jolt. “Yeah, I wanted Shane to see it.”
“I figured that’s where you must be coming from. It’s lovely, isn’t it?”
“I don’t know if I would call it lovely, but it has elements that are,” I said, and Miss Akin laughed, immediately lifting my somber mood.
“I suppose it’s more formidable than beautiful, but the setting is quite unique,” she said in the castle’s defense.
“Do you know anything about the castle’s history?”
Miss Akin nodded. “Sure, what are you curious about?”
I couldn’t very well just come right out and ask about Ian or the picture of the woman hanging above the fireplace in the castle’s dining room without blowing the fact that I’d broken in. “Well, it’s kind of a creepy place and I’m wondering if there are any scary stories.”
“You mean ghost stories?” she asked, lifting a brow.
Anticipation built within me. “Yeah.”
She grabbed a rolling pin from a cabinet and went at the dough like a maniac. “Any dwelling that has been around for as long as the castle is bound to house a few ghosts. One story is about a man known as Hanway, who was the MacKinnon’s most ardent enemy, and who made a large sum by stealing cattle right beneath his victim’s noses. Hanway and his sons stole upwards of forty head of cattle from Laird MacKinnon one night. A servant keeping guard saw him, shot him, and he fell from his horse. The servant brought Hanway to his master, who in turn saw to his wound, and when the man was well enough, he was promptly imprisoned in the castle dungeon.”
“How long was he imprisoned for?”
“A year, I believe.”
“A year? That seems like a long time for stealing a few cows.”
Miss Akin snorted. “Perhaps to you it might sound like a long time for such a deed, but given the fact they used to hang people for such offences, I say he got off lightly. However, Hanway did not take to his imprisonment very kindly, and each night everyone from miles around could hear his screams. Rumors suggest he was tortured, which I do not believe to be the case since Laird MacKinnon was known for being a fair and just ruler. Others say Hanway was slowly losing his mind, screaming for his family and loved ones. Well, one night, the screaming ceased and Laird MacKinnon checked the dungeon and found the man dead as could be, his nails ripped off and his fingertips bloodied from where he had clawed at the door. There are some who say his spirit still roams the castle, and visitors have commented on hearing a scratching sound coming from the basement, which happened to be used as the dungeon.”
Thank God I hadn’t seen the Hanway ghost while I was at the castle. Or maybe I had. Maybe the dark shadow in the dining room had been his spirit? “Are there any others who died at the castle?”
Miss Akin’s brows furrowed. “Well, let’s see, during the eighteenth-century the castle laird had been killed during a bloody battle with a rival clan, and his cousin, who was living on the Isle of Skye, moved into the castle with his new wife. It is said that the woman’s beauty was talked about all over Scotland. They had four children, all of whom resembled their lovely mother. The eldest boy was truly a handsome young devil, and the girls from the village and beyond took notice of him. Many believed he would marry a family friend, the daughter of a wealthy landowner named Murray, who lived in an adjoining county.”
“Why didn’t they marry?”
“This is where the story turns tragic. You see, there was a young servant girl who worked in the castle, along with her father, and she became enamored with the young MacKinnon.”
My pulse skittered. “Do you remember his name?”
Her brow furrowed. “Let’s see, there were two sons. I think the names were Ian and Duncan, and if I’m not mistaken, Ian was the eldest.”
The hair on my arms stood on end. Now we were getting somewhere. Plus, for the first time ever I was getting validation about the spirits I was seeing.
“This servant girl fell desperately in love with Ian, who in turn was expected to marry someone of his own station. This would be common knowledge of the time, but this did not stop the servant from falling in love with him. So when it came to pass that the young MacKinnon began spending time with Murray’s daughter, a woman who would be considered a suitable match for a laird’s son, the servant became so jealous she poisoned him. Ian died right there in front of his devastated family.”
“What happened to the servant?” I asked, sitting on the edge of my seat.
“The family had her hanged from a tree on the castle grounds.”
I swallowed past the lump in my throat. What if the ghost I had seen had been the servant who had killed Ian? “Do you believe in ghosts, Miss Akin?” I asked, shifting in my seat as I waited for her to answer.
She watched me for a long, uncomfortable minute before responding. “Yes, I do, and I take it you do as well given your questions.”
I nodded.
“Let me ease your fears, my dear. I have never heard an instance where a ghost has harmed a human. True, they have scared a fair share of the living nearly out of their skins, but as far as doing true harm, that can never be.”
I was ready to question her more when I felt a strange vibration race through me. A familiar quickening that made me aware someone was with us.
I stood up. “I just thought of something,” I said. “I uh—might need to switch a class.”
“If there’s anything I can help you with, let me know, my dear,” Miss Akin said, but I was already heading for my room.
· · · · ·
I opened the door to my bedroom and found Ian sprawled out on my bed, his arms pillowed behind his head. He looked entirely too comfortable, and I was absolutely ecstatic to see him.
“Make yourself at home,” I said, and he turned to me, a heart-melting smile on his gorgeous face. Not taking my eyes off of him, I shut the door behind me and walked toward him, intent on finding answers.
“I did not think you would mind, Riley.”
I liked when he said my name, the way he rolled the R. “I don’t mind,” I said, sitting down on the edge of the bed. I tried not to let his good looks or close proximity get in the way of the questions I had, but I couldn’t ignore the sudden racing of my heart. “So…I went to the castle today.”
He sat up on his elbows. “Yes, I know.”
Now that surprised me. “How?”
The sides of his mouth curved in a boyish grin. “I have my ways.”
I hated that I was being serious and he wasn’t. I was happy he was here, but also wary that he hadn’t been straight with me about the servant. “I think I saw the girl who killed you today.”
He immediately dropped his gaze to my comforter, and ran his hand over the material, tracing the filigree pattern with a long finger. “I didn’t want you to be afraid of her.”
“Have you been able to see her all this time?”
Sliding off the bed, he walked over to the window, looked out. “Yes, but Laria stays near the graveyard, away from me…and I stay away from her.”
No wonder I h
ad felt such a creepy sensation when I first saw that cemetery. “When was the last time you saw her?”
“It’s difficult to say,” he said, turning to face me again. “You see, time is not the same for you as it is for me.”
I frowned. “What?”
“Time in the spirit world is different than time as you know it.”
What did that mean, anyway? Frustrated, I ran my hands down my face. “Should I be afraid of Laria?”
“You should be wary.”
“Miss Akin said ghosts can’t harm the living.”
I could tell by his expression that he felt differently, and that made me nervous.
“I believe Laria is as dangerous in death as she was in life,” he replied. “Perhaps more so. I don’t know if it’s her connection to the Black Arts that makes her so powerful, but you must be careful.”
Black Arts? As in witchcraft? “How much harm can she do? I mean…she’s dead.”
“You would do well to remember that she’s the one who cursed me.”
“I’m not afraid of her,” I said, even though I actually was. Laria made me really nervous. And I could tell by Ian’s reaction that I needed to be worried. “I wonder if there’s a book about witchcraft and spells that can help end the curse?”
“It’s generous of you to try and help me, but I can’t ask you to put yourself in harm’s way.”
“I want to help you,” I said, pulling off the elastic band from around my ponytail and running my fingers through my hair. Ian’s eyes followed my movements, and when our gazes locked again, he smiled.
I felt that smile all the way to my toes.
Tossing the hair band on my nightstand, I blurted, “Maybe I could check the library or the Internet. I mean, my dad promised to have the computer up and running by the weekend, but I really don’t want to wait that long, you know?” Oh my God, I was rambling, but I couldn’t help it. The way he was looking at me made me kind of nervous, but not in a bad way. Rather, an excited, I-can’t-wait-to-see-what-happens-next kind of way. “Maybe we can go to the library after lunch.”
He nodded, but looked hesitant for some reason.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, almost afraid of his answer.
“Are you sure about this, Riley? Perhaps you should think about what you are truly getting into first.”
I wanted to tell him that there was absolutely no going back. “I want to help you end this curse, Ian. What Laria did to you was wrong and you deserve to have peace.”
He stared at me for a long minute, saying nothing––just watching me with a soft expression that made my insides tighten.
“Thank you, Riley,” he finally said. “Thank you.”
The Deepest Cut, (MacKinnon Curse series, book 1) Page 5