Aunt Toffy and the Ghost

by Linda Lea Castle

  “No, Grandfather, we won’t.” Rawly poured himself a whisky and tossed it back. “Sit down, we need to have a talk.”

  Basil seemed on the verge of exploding in anger, but he sat. It helped that Rawly refilled his whisky yet again.

  “Firstly, Molly was not compromised. I made sure she has been properly chaperoned the entire time she was at Dullinmuth. There is no way she was left alone to be a victim or a perpetrator in such scandal—you may rest easy on that score.”

  “But—”

  “Nay, Grandfather, but me no buts.” Rawly chuckled, pacing in front of the chair where Basil sat. He was ticking off points on his fingers. “Secondly, she only invented this ruse to be able to marry the man she loves—which in case it escaped your notice—is not me. She hatched a plan to thwart your match-making and assure her parents’ cooperation. I should’ve expected her to do what she did, but frankly, I thought the lass was more conventional than to risk her reputation entirely. Still I admire her for seeking love over all else. I would like to marry for love—”

  He held up his hand to silence Basil who had taken a deep breath as if to launch another tirade.

  “Someday,” he continued. “If and when I marry, and that is not going to be any time soon—I would like to think it will be a love match and not simply to satisfy some need for an heir.”

  “But the heir! Dullinmuth!” Basil nearly rose from his chair.

  “Dullinmuth is in no danger, I assure you.” Rawly stopped in front of his grandfather and smiled affectionately. “You have worked yourself into a lather for no reason at all. I have some news for you. News you would have had much sooner had you not been so stubborn—”

  “Stubborn? I am the most reasonable man—”

  He might have said more, but at that moment Bart Rawlings walked into the parlor from his stroll to the castle. He stood in the doorway, clearly unsure of his reception. He held his hat, turning the brim round and round in his fingers.

  “Grandfather?” He took a tentative step.

  “So you have come to your senses and returned? I’m prepared to forgive and forget if you are. Aye, well then—if Rawly is determined to continue his foolish wandering, then maybe Mrs. Miggins will assist us and we can find you a wife before much more time passes!”

  Basil was red in the face, but he continued to speak, allowing nobody to interrupt him.

  “Dullinmuth needs an heir, and I’m fair tired of all this dilly-dallying! I’m getting no younger—all these months of planning for naught!”

  “Actually, I believe I can do more than assist you, Basil.” Adorna left her chair and went to stand at the bottom of the stairs. “In fact I think I can make all your wishes come true immediately.”

  “You Mrs. Miggins? Are you saying that you are looking for a husband? Will you marry one of my grandsons? If that is the case, I can have the banns posted at once.”

  Adorna was shocked at the idea, but she did not speak. She held out her hand and took Mary’s as the woman descended the last tread, finally coming into Basil’s line of sight. She brought her into the parlor, aware of her trembling and unease. She gave her fingers a little squeeze of encouragement.

  “Basil, let me introduce you to Mary Rawlings—Bart’s wife. And as you can plainly see, your much wanted heir is well on the way.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  “Wife?” Basil sat down as if his legs would no longer hold him. “When? Where? How?”

  Rawly refilled his grandfather’s glass and handed it to him. Basil tossed back the whisky. His color slowly returned to normal. Adorna thought he must be well on his way to complete intoxication after the amount of whisky Rawly had given him.

  Perhaps that was the point?

  Bart took a step toward Mary. “Grandfather, I wrote to you, but Rawly tells me you put my letter to the fire.” Bart handed his hat to Crosbie and offered Mary his arm for support.

  Basil flushed a little. “I—well—I have been foolish—that I do admit—but you pushed me, lad. The bairn—when is the bairn expected?” His voice was soft with wonder.

  “I think when the weather turns cold and snow is on the ground. Mary has yet to see a physician.”

  “What? You canna neglect the lassie’s health. This is something we must remedy immediately. I will send for Edinburgh’s best. He will of course attend you at Dullinmuth. The nursery there has been empty far too long.”

  “Dullinmuth?” Mary looked to Bart with a question in her eyes. She looked like she might be a bit overwhelmed with the rapid events.

  Basil coughed and sputtered as if the next words were hanging in his throat. “That is, if you would consent to live there—I dinna want to force you, I canna force you, I can but ask. ’Tis a fine home in need of a woman’s touch. And a bairn! Och, a bairn after all this time—I’m asking you to think about it—please—think about living at Dullinmuth.” He sounded wistful and sniffed a little, rubbing at his nose.

  “I don’t think I can stand to see you blubbering like a bairn, Grandfather—it would completely unman me,” Bart said with a grin. “So, aye, Mary and I will be happy to come to Dullinmuth. I said as much to you in my letter.”

  “I ken what you are saying, Bart, that if I had read your letter I would have been spared some worry and sadness.”

  “Aye, and Rawly would’ve been spared your clumsy attempts at matchmaking. You have made a haggis of everyone’s life, Grandfather,” Bart chided him gently.

  Rawly smiled and winked at Adorna. “So, Mrs. Miggins, since I have been released from the marriage market, will it be possible for me to continue lodging here at your house as a confirmed bachelor?”

  “I think that would be easily arranged, Rawly. Breakfast will be laid at seven on the morn. Now, would anyone like tea and biscuits? I think Basil could use something besides whisky. He is beginning to sway on his feet a bit.” She smiled at the old man.

  They all looked at Basil who was wearing a silly grin, shuffling from one leg to the other, clearly in his cups, a wide smile on his face, a dreamy look in his eyes.

  “Crosbie, please ask Cook to prepare us a large tea. Scones, biscuits, clotted cream—some of the sliced roast from the larder—”

  “And don’t forget the bannocks,” Toffy said with a wink toward Rawly.

  ****

  “I would like to plant a tree in the back garden,” Toffy said between bites of bannock.

  “What kind of tree?” Adorna asked.

  “Italian plum, I should think.”

  Rawly and Adorna both looked up, their gaze fastening on Toffy.

  “Yes, after we have finished our meal, I think I will spend a little time in the back garden.” Toffy looked off into the far distance, and Adorna was sure she was seeing Meridius nearby.

  “May I join you?” Rawly asked and it was not difficult to see his excitement.

  ****

  The afternoon sun slanted over the stone wall into the back garden. Bees buzzed from bloom to bloom. Toffy had tender young herbs and medicinal plants growing in the kitchen patch but her pride and joy were the roses and other posies in the south corner. She was happy to have Adorna pick them for Mr. Miggin’s grave.

  Rawly and Adorna sat on a stone bench watching as Toffy walked around the garden, tilting her head from time to time as if she were listening to a quiet song that only she could hear.

  “Is she trying to decide where to plant?” Rawly whispered.

  “I think she is listening to Meridius. Toffy said he had been spending a lot of time in the garden over the last few weeks, but she didn’t seem to know why.”

  Suddenly Toffy looked up. She was nodding her head as if in agreement. She walked toward them smiling.

  “Meridius says we need to dig here.” She pointed to a spot in the turf.

  “This is not the best spot for a tree I think—” Rawly was cut off by a gust of wind that tore at his hair, lifted Toffy’s bonnet, and ripped leaves from the nearby flowers.

  “He cares not. We a
re to dig here. And I believe he wants you to start digging quickly.”

  Rawly did not argue. He found a spade in the garden shed and plunged it into the green turf. It was strange how the wind curled around him, shoving at him at seemed, as if urging more speed. He booted the blade deeper and deeper, a small pile of dirt beginning to grow beside the hole. Then suddenly he heard the sound of metal hitting metal.

  He crouched down and used his fingers to clear away the soil. It felt good to have his hands in the earth after so many days of inactivity at Dullinmuth.

  He felt the edge of something—

  “What is it? Pull it out.” Toffy was excited, she still nodded from time to time as if she were hearing a conversation nobody else could hear.

  Rawly probed deeper with his fingers, finally revealing a piece of metal. He was able to draw it out, cleaning much off as much as he could.

  He stared at the object in disbelief.

  “What is that?” Adorna was fascinated. And strangely the wind had died down as the object was brought out of the earth.

  “It is the breast plate of a horse,” Rawly said softly.

  “What are those markings? Can you read them?”

  “Aye, I can read them. They are Roman,” Rawly whispered.

  “What do they say?”

  “They say the horse belonged to Quintas Petillius Cerialias, Roman Commander and Legate of Scotia.”

  “Isn’t that the man you have been searching for?” Adorna asked.

  “Aye.”

  “That man was leading Meridius when he left Rome,” Toffy said with a sigh. “That is why he has been spending so much time in the garden—something has been drawing him here.”

  Rawly whirled around and stared at her, his mouth agape. After a heartbeat or two, he scrubbed his dirty hands through his hair. “Do you mean to tell me that Meridius was with the Ninth Legion of Rome?”

  Toffy tilted her head and listened. Then she nodded slowly. “He says it was known as the Legio nono Hispana.”

  “That is it—that is the Ninth Legion. That is what I have spent the last two years searching for.”

  “Then you and Meridius have something in common, Rawly, but his quest has been going on for a much longer time, for he has been searching for them since he died,” Toffy said with a sad smile. “I think I’m ready for tea. We can decide on the tree tomorrow.” And having said that she turned and walked away.

  Rawly stared after her. The metal in his hand was warming where he had been holding it.

  Could it be? Could it be her Roman ghost was a soldier in the Ninth? Had he stumbled into the solution to the long sought after puzzle? But what of the miniature he had found on Ard Na Said?

  He had so many questions.

  “Come along, Rawly, I think you need a cup of tea as well. You seem to have become quite pale.” Adorna slipped her arm through his and guided him to the house.

  ****

  Rawly sat mutely staring at the cup of untouched tea. Finally, Adorna could stand it no longer. She walked to the side board and grabbed a decanter. She dumped out some of the tea and topped off the cup with whisky.

  “Drink.” She thrust the cup toward his mouth.

  He blinked at her as if waking from a dream and obediently took the cup into his own hands. He tipped up the cup and drained it.

  “What a fool I have been,” he said.

  “How so?” Adorna sat down at the table and picked up a bannock. She nibbled at its edge while she waited for Rawly to speak. Toffy watched him with her brows raised, a small smile playing at the edges of her lips.

  “How long have you known?” he asked Toffy with a brittle edge to his voice.

  “I never really know anything—but I had begun to wonder why you and Meridius seemed to be on a collision course and why your endeavor and his death were the only things he didn’t seem to be able to delve into. It made some sort of sense that the two were connected.”

  “Well, you should take some comfort in knowing you are on the right path.” Adorna sipped her tea and watched the play of emotion on Rawly’s face.

  “How do you mean?”

  “Does anybody else living know—absolutely know—that the Ninth Legion was in Scotland?”

  His eyes widened. “No, they don’t. Most scholars have maintained that the Romans never went this far north. It has been a hotly debated topic.”

  “You know that is not true. Admittedly you will not be able to have Meridius show up to give a lecture to the experts in some drafty hall or university, but you have it on the very best authority that the Romans did come this far north.”

  “You are right. By heaven, you are right!” He stood up and began to pace around the room. “Toffy, what does Meridius remember?”

  “It is jumbled. Either I canna understand or he really doesn’t know. As near as I have been able to determine, he became ill. There were times when he was carried on a sort of litter. He would wake in one place, the physician that marched with the legion would give him something—milk of poppy, I think—and he would wake somewhere new.”

  “Is that how he died?”

  “He doesn’t know how he died. That is what devils him so. He doesn’t know how he died, where he was, and worst of all for him, where his bones lie. They were beset by illness, cold, and fierce painted men.”

  Rawly turned to look at Adorna and Toffy, a look of steely determination in his eyes.

  “Ladies, I have a proposition for you. If you will allow me to lodge here, I will offer my assistance to you in all your new inquiries.”

  “And what do you want in return?” Toffy asked.

  “I want you to be my intermediary with Meridius. I want you to help me—and him—find the answers to what happened to the Ninth Legion.”

  “I will have to ask him and see if that is what he wants,” Toffy said.

  Rawly looked at Adorna, his eyes were fastened on her face. “I apologize—I should have asked what you want, Adorna.”

  She blinked twice. “Nobody has ever asked me that before. I have always done what was expected, or what was necessary. I don’t think I have ever had the opportunity to do what I wanted. I’m not sure I know what I want.”

  “You are a respected, and respectable widow. You have your own income now—you can do whatever you want—and judging from that grand sign hanging from the front of your house, I assume you want to solve mysteries,” Rawly said with a grin. “Help me solve mine.”

  “I do want to solve mysteries. All right, I agree. We will be a trio—no a quartet—you, me, Toffy, and Meridius. We will solve mysteries and perhaps along the way we will discover the answers to the questions that plague you and Meridius.”

  “I think we should seal this pact with a dram,” Toffy said. “I will pour out some wine for you, Meridius,” she said into the air.

  They moved to the parlor. Each was no doubt lost in their own train of thought.

  “I wonder what happened to them? The Ninth Legion. That is a lot of men to simply disappear,” Toffy mused as she lifted her glass to toast.

  “Over five thousand men…it could have been anything—disease, a fever, a wound. At that time there was nothing here but mist, wild men, fierce animals, and any manner of death,” Rawly said.

  “To us—” Adorna said raising her glass.

  “To knowledge,” Rawly said.

  A knock at the door was heard and then Crosbie appeared.

  “Ma’m, there is a couple to see you.”

  “We were not expecting anybody,” Adorna began.

  “They were looking for a lodging house, but they saw the sign, ma’m. It seems they are in need of rooms, and they have a mystery that needs solving.”

  “Ah, the sign will be bringing people unannounced.

  We have our first case!” Rawly said jumping to his feet. “Show them in, Crosbie, show them right in.”

  A young woman in a three wheeled chair being pushed by a handsome man appeared. He had a bandage around his head and her leg
was splinted and elevated. They both had a haunted look in their eyes.

  “Please, can you aid us?” the young girl asked without introduction.

  “What is your problem?” Toffy motioned them into the parlor and gestured for the man to sit.

  “We were in a terrible accident, and my companion here cannot remember who he is.” The girl burst into tears.

  “Come in my dear, let me get you a cup of tea—or perhaps a whisky and you can tell us what you know,” Adorna offered with a smile. “We love mysteries…

  A word about the author…

  Linda Lea Castle is the award-winning author of romance, historical, and women’s fiction. She makes her home in northern New Mexico with her husband and a Great Dane named Viking Rogue. Linda loves reading and crafts, including painting and knitting. She has recently researched the genealogy of both her and her husband’s bloodlines. She discovered some roving rascals in her roots and Scottish royalty in her husband’s. She hopes both will lead to more exciting stories in the future.

  Thank you for purchasing

  this publication of The Wild Rose Press, Inc.