‘Quickly lad,’ instructed the voice, as the torchlight drew nearer. ‘She’s still alive.’
As she felt fingers pressing into her neck, Riane came to focus on the man hanging over her — it was the old historian who had warned her about driving the highland road at night. ‘How?’ she mumbled.
‘There’s not so many guest houses along this road,’ he explained, raising her up into a seated position. ‘When we called and you hadn’t arrived at any of them, we suspected the worst. And we are not the only ones looking for you … your boyfriend, Geoff, was also concerned when he never got your call.’
Riane had forgotten all about her dirty weekend in the highlands and now that she’d been reminded of what reality held in store she recoiled from the warmth of the old man’s body. ‘No!’ she cried. ‘Marcus!’
‘I thought the boyfriend’s name was Geoff,’ commented one of the other men who had reached her, and being a younger man than the historian, he swept Riane up into his arms.
She tried to resist being moved, but she had no strength to fight. ‘Marcus, please, Marcus …’
‘Who the hell is Marcus then?’ The young man made a move to carry the mumbling woman back to the road.
The old historian gazed around at the ruins, spooked. ‘A coincidence perhaps,’ the historian granted, as he walked beside the lad, ‘but the lord who last frequented this manor, early last century, went by the name of Marcus MacCloud.’
‘What happened to him?’ queried the young man and Riane’s ears pricked up.
‘He was reported lost at sea,’ the historian began, ‘and after being missing for several years, the woman he was to have married, Bethany McGlen, became betrothed to his younger brother, Jasper MacCloud … who was more of a playboy than a businessman by all accounts. On the night of the wedding, Marcus returned home, and remorseful because of her marriage vow to his brother, Bethany threw herself off the cliffs not far yonder.’ He pointed off into the darkness. ‘Grief-stricken, in a drunken stupor, Jasper took his automobile out for a spin, which ended in a fatal accident.’
It was Jasper who ran me off the road! Riane went into silent shock. It was Jasper who wed Marcus’s love in his stead! No wonder Marcus was paranoid that I would fall victim to his brother’s charms.
‘And Marcus?’ queried the young man. ‘What became of him?’
‘He locked himself up in this manor and slowly withered away to nothing. The maid, who raised both the MacCloud boys, also haunts this place. She lost her will to live once both her charges were dead, and poisoned herself in order to join them.’
‘Christ, that’s tragic,’ said the lad, and having reached the highland road, he piled Riane into the back seat of a car and covered her with several blankets.
‘These mountains are rich with such tragedies,’ commented the historian as he closed the car door. ‘Hence the abundance of lost souls who haunt the place, for ghosts are always victims of tragic deaths. Foreigners just refuse to be warned.’ He gazed in through the window at Riane. ‘We’d best get this young lass to some shelter, before she becomes another sad statistic.’
‘Leave me,’ she mumbled, although her plea was inaudible and with her next breath she fell unconscious.
The modest room in the Olde World Hotel was a grim contrast to the fairytale existence that had been denied her. The bed had an electric blanket, and a small radiator glowed brightly in one corner of the room, heating the air beyond. Effective as these heating arrangements were, they couldn’t hold a flame to feeling Marcus close. Vegetable broth warmed her empty belly and yet it seemed tasteless after the delights of the phantom realm. Here, in the real world, Riane had thought her delightful sojourn from reality would seem like nothing but a flight of romantic fancy; instead, it seemed like real life was the nightmare, and soon she would awake to find herself still wrapped up in her would-be lover’s arms.
‘Oh, please let me wake.’ She made a soft plea to God, Marcus, or whoever else might assist.
Riane had been doing her best to push aside everything that the waif had said to her, although some of the prophecy was already ringing true. She did feel liberated from the emotional treadmill so far as men were concerned: no man would ever live up to Marcus and if she couldn’t have him then she’d rather be alone. She had no desire to see Geoff again. As interesting and as attractive as she’d found him a week ago, the thought of making love to him now made her skin crawl — and he was a nice guy. In fact, his phoning around looking for her had probably saved her life.
‘Damn me for finally finding a man who actually gives a shit.’ She rolled her eyes thinking it was ironic: if it wasn’t for Geoff, she’d still be with Marcus.
So help me God, if I survive this day I shall kill myself tomorrow and pray my damned soul can find its way back to you. Her parting vow to Marcus presented itself as a way out of her dilemma.
‘Ghosts are always the victims of tragic deaths.’ She spoke aloud what the historian had said, and then scampered out of bed.
In the small en-suite bathroom, Riane searched the cupboards for pills, a razor blade, or anything that might help to end her life. There was not so much as a bottle of detergent, and she seriously doubted that eating a cake of soap would end her days.
‘Although it would be tragic,’ she mumbled, leaning in the doorway to consider her next move. ‘Time to check out,’ she decided, rushing to change into some clothes and gather her belongings.
‘You’re not going back up there alone are you, missy?’ The historian gaped at Riane over his half-consumed pint that was rested on the bar. ‘Your boyfriend is on his way down to see you. You must —’
‘I seriously doubt that.’ Riane politely cut him off.
‘But he seemed very concerned, I —’
‘Look,’ Riane became more adamant. ‘Geoff is not my boyfriend. My boyfriend is waiting for me … elsewhere.’ She was unable to prevent a smile of delight forming on her lips. ‘I am very grateful for all you’ve done for me, really I am, but the weather is fine and if you could tell me where I might find reliable transport, I shall be on my merry way.’
‘Mick, at the local petrol station, towed in your wreck,’ he grumbled, bemused by her persistence. ‘He’s an agent for a rent-a-car mob and reckons he can fix you up with something.’
‘You’ve made my millennium!’ Riane kissed the historian’s cheek. ‘Thanks again.’ She waved to all the patrons as she fled the pub as quickly as she was able.
‘Bloody tourists … never listen,’ the old historian grouched and finishing up his beer, he ordered another.
Riane chain-smoked for the entire drive, as if hoping the packet might live up to its claim and kill her. She considered it odd in retrospect that she hadn’t even thought about smoking during her stay at the manor. Still, her time there had been so blissful, that there hadn’t been any need to dull the stress or calm her nerves — unlike now.
‘Oh God, where is the friggin’ driveway?’ She began to fret that she might not find it, that Marcus had created another illusion to prevent her tracing her way back to him. ‘It has got to be along here somewhere.’ The area was very distinctive due to the light patch of forest — very rare in the highlands. ‘Come on, Marcus, don’t lock me out.’ Tears of desperation were forming when she spied the parting in the trees. ‘Yes!’ She steered into the driveway and followed it all the way to the manor gates.
Even the ruins of the house appeared enchanting as a light snow fell down to coat its grand remains.
As she entered through the gate her head filled with memories of ballgowns and music, feasting and finery, laughter and love. ‘God, I want to be back there.’ She drew a deep, resolute breath ahead of scaling the front steps and entering through the void where the front doors had once been.
Inside walls had collapsed, making the entire structure very unstable. All the finery had gone. Past all the rubble of the collapsed staircase and down the corridor of rising damp, the tower room of Marcus’ study still
appeared to be intact, barring the windows, doors and furnishings that she recalled. The beautiful timber in the ceiling had also been ripped out, and thus Riane concluded that the place had been ransacked, rather than having fallen into ruin via natural causes.
‘A crying shame,’ she mumbled to herself, as she eyed over the cold remains of her nirvana. But, somewhere between life and death, the manor still existed untouched by the ravages of time, and Marcus still awaited her in this very room.
‘I told you I’d be back, and this time I’m staying until the end.’ Riane began to strip off her clothes. ‘My death will be no accident, it will be my will and therefore suicide.’ Having stripped off her outer layers, Riane began exposing bare skin. ‘I will be a ghost, if that’s what it takes to be with you.’
Having stipped to her underwear, Riane lay down on her discarded attire to await her certain death. Was this how Velvet, Rochelle, Marion and Arabella had been found? Were they the girls the historian had originally reported missing?
‘Of course they were.’ Her teeth chattered violently and she decided to refrain from speech. And now I shall become a ghost story in these parts. They will tell of how I was rescued from this place, only to return here and commit suicide the next day. She smiled as she recollected telling the local historian that she was off to meet her boyfriend. Maybe he would put two and two together and expand on her legend, to tell of how she’d fallen in love with the ghost of Marcus MacCloud and died to be with him.
The colder she felt, and the more pain, the broader she smiled. The sensation of a warm entity, the size of a man, bearing down upon her freezing form, startled her to delight. ‘Marcus, thank God.’
Guess again. Jasper’s naked ghost manifested to smile broadly at her. Marcus is not going to come. He’s wimped out on you, I’m afraid.
‘No, you’re lying!’ Riane scampered away, dragging her clothes along with her and as soon as she was clear of Jasper she dragged on a shirt and trousers.
That’s the way it is, sweet thing. He claims he loves you too much to condemn you. Jasper stretched out on the floor and began toying with his fully erect penis. But I can get you where you want to go, and unlike my brother, I’ve got a proven track record. He winked and flashed a cheeky grin.
‘I’m waiting for Marcus,’ she insisted.
Then you’re a dead woman. He forced a smile and sat up, cross-legged, leaving his penis to wave around aimlessly at attention. If Marcus was coming don’t you think he would have beaten me to you? And, quite frankly, I’ve got better things to do than to run around liberating frigid women in distress. Do you want out of the reincarnation loop, or not?
‘Well, quite frankly, we frigid women have got better things to do than be run off the road by sexually demented corpses.’ Riane folded her arms, defiantly.
So you figured it out, finally. Jasper smiled to confirm her statement. But you never would have met Marcus if I hadn’t, so no hard feelings, hey? We can still party.’
‘If you wanted to claim me, like you claimed those others girls, what was the point of letting me even meet Marcus?’ Riane protested.
I didn’t like to see him alone, and I had to make sure he liked you before I initiated you into our fold, Jasper explained. I knew Marcus wouldn’t have the guts to claim you himself, but once you’re with us, he’ll come round.
‘No, he won’t!’ Riane strongly disagreed. ‘He never came around after you took Bethany from him.’
He never got the chance … I went and killed myself and so did she!
‘But you’ve tried setting him up with a girl before, haven’t you?’ Riane was confident about this, although admittedly it was a theory. ‘You initiated Arabella with Marcus in mind, but he wouldn’t have a bar of her after she’d given herself to you.’
No … Jasper assured her, she just wasn’t his type is all. But this time I made sure you were to his liking, so I’m willing to take the risk if you are?
Riane rolled her eyes, as Jasper was impossible to try and talk round. ‘If Marcus wants me, he will come for me and I shall wait.’
Well, he’s a very moral lad, our Marcus. I daresay your wait will be in vain. Jasper gave her a despairing look and his smile became more sincere. And if you’re not claimed by Marcus or myself before you freeze to death in this hole, then, sadly, you’ll be on your own, my lovely. This, he motioned to the ruins around him, will be your home for all eternity, which you will spend in solitude. He gave her a wave and dissolved into the shadows of reality from whence he’d come.
The front wheel drive on the hire car was handling the slippery road conditions rather well. Still, the demister on the windshield wasn’t the best and thus Geoff grabbed a dirty T-shirt from his bag and gave the inside of the driver’s side window a wipe.
‘Not too much further to the village now,’ he said to himself, casting the wipe aside. ‘Shit!’
In the split second he’d taken his eyes off the road, a dark haired woman in white had suddenly appeared in his way.
Geoff swerved the car to miss her, and fully expecting to collide with a tree, he was surprised to find himself careering along a driveway.
By the time he regained control of the sliding vehicle and brought it to a stop, he was even more surprised to find another car parked outside the old ruins — perhaps it belonged to the woman he’d nearly hit?
Out of the car and gasping for breath to calm himself, Geoff ran back to the road to make sure the woman in white was unharmed, but she’d vanished without a trace. Even her footprints in the snow were absent. ‘Am I seeing things? This is too weird.’ He headed back to the cars; perhaps she’d sidetracked around him somehow and was back there.
Inside the car, Geoff found a handbag that looked vaguely familiar to him.
‘No wonder,’ he muttered, as he found Riane’s driver’s licence.
The rules of this suicide wish just seemed to get more and more complicated all the time. The absence of Marcus’s presence was his way of saying he wanted her to live. But surely he would claim her, if push came to shove, to save her from a grim eternal solitude?
What about how I feel about this? Don’t my wishes mean anything? She wanted to believe it was a test: that Marcus was just waiting until her final moments to claim her spirit to ensure she gave up life of her own will.
She hadn’t moved for a while and her breathing had become very shallow, as it hurt to take deep breaths of the icy air. In fact, it hurt to try to move. Please, Marcus, have mercy. I’m not leaving this place. I love you, only you and only ever you.
Riane was suddenly gripped by panic as it took several attempts for her to draw a tiny breath.
Call my name, lass, Jasper urged. You’re out of time and you know it.
Suddenly life seemed too precious to waste, damned in this harsh abode, but rather that than to become another of Jasper’s whores. Don’t let me be damned alone, my love. She no longer had the energy to fight the cold and fell unconscious, barely breathing.
The white waif stood on the moonlit cliff edge, gazing out over the site of her demise, her long dark hair and glistening white gown dancing in the temperate night wind.
The tall, dark man comes to stand at her side and they remain focused on the horizon. I want to thank you, Bethany, for helping get Riane out … she would have been lost if not for your intervention.
I did have more motive than just doing you a favour … I was hoping that Riane’s love might set us both free of this curse. Bethany dared to look at the cause of her torment and spiritual entrapment.
The lord hung his head as her words touched a sore point. I’m sorry I locked you out, Bethany. Fate dealt us a formidable hand, and if I could do it all again I’d have forgiven you long ago. Understand that at the time, my grief consumed me. I thought I’d never love again but I was wrong about that. Marcus looked her in the face for the first time since that dreadful day of his homecoming. I don’t blame you for marrying Jasper, neither do I hold you responsible for his death.
Our actions were our own, and I hold no malice toward you.
Thank you, Marcus, and bless you for seeing reason, she said, deeply gratified by his forgiveness. It is our understanding and compassion that sets us free.
The two spirits of Bethany and Marcus began to glow as their bodies filled with light. Could freedom be so simple? Marcus was overjoyed, briefly, before panic set in. What will become of Jasper?
Jasper’s situation became more complicated when he decided to take advantage of those dying women. If he can sacrifice his own pleasure and take responsibility for his actions he, too, can resume his place in the higher scheme of things.
Marcus did not appear hopeful of this happening in the near future. Perhaps the girls will come to their senses and reject him, and then Jasper will be forced to find a way beyond his Limbo. The lord’s light-filled body was losing definition. And what of Riane … is love always to elude me?
All things in creation are connected. If you can fall in love with this woman a century after your death, then surely finding her again is not so improbable. God speed you, Marcus MacCloud.
And you, Bethany MacGlen.
The two figures on the hilltop had reduced to nothing more than two masses of pure white light that swooped off in different directions.
A rush of warmth, and then Riane became aware of a body pressed close alongside hers.
You’re going to be just fine, my love, Marcus whispered. And so am I. Thank you for making it so.
At the sound of his voice Riane’s eyes darted open, to find she was being hugged close to him. ‘I was scared you wouldn’t come for me.’
‘Well, if I hadn’t been diverted off the road, I might not have found you in time.’
Riane gasped and pulled away. She wasn’t in Marcus’s study; she was back in the hotel room and it was Geoff and not her love that held her.
The Limbo of Luxury Page 5