by C. J. Bahr
“I thought you said it was the best room?”
“Well, it may be, but you have to be a fan of the Ghost Hunters show, like you and Bethy, to really appreciate it. She mentioned the two of you never missed an episode.”
“Grant, I told you not to say anything,” Beth admonished.
“Ghost Hunters? Ah, Beth, is there something you forgot to tell me?”
“Now you’ve done it,” Beth scooted out from under her husband’s arm and shot him a dirty look. “It was supposed to be a surprise. Be gone. I’ll deal with you later.”
“Is that a promise?”
“Grant!”
He faced her with a sheepish smile. “It’s really nothing, Laurel. It was great to meet you. I’ll see you again after you’ve settled in. Drinks before dinner.” Grant walked away whistling as he entered the office.
“Beth?” Laurel caught a mischievous glint in her best friend’s eyes.
“Later. It’s a surprise. Wait until you see the room.”
“Oh, my suitcase...”
“Don’t worry, Ian will bring your bags up and park your car. Just give me your keys and follow me.”
Laurel exhaled and shook her head as she handed over her car keys. What had she gotten herself into? But that was Beth—instigator, troublemaker galore. For someone so petite, Beth had the affinity of leading them into trouble. Mostly harmless escapades, but it was usually Laurel who ended up with the egg on her face. How they had managed to stay friends all their lives, she couldn’t guess. Probably because, deep down, Laurel admired Beth’s adventuresome spirit, something she sorely lacked.
She followed Beth up the stairs to the second floor, through carpeted hallways and past several doors.
“You’re at the end of the hall. You’re going to love it. There’s only one room at this end of the house, so it’ll be nice and quiet.”
Beth led her to the final door and in a grand gesture flung it open. Laurel stepped past her and into history. Or at least, what she thought a room in a manor house would look like from the Regency Era. Mister Darcy, indeed. The room was wide and open. The far wall held a bank of large windows, including one with a window seat. Thick carpet in a dark green lined the floors. There was an antique writing desk, lots of comfortable looking chairs, and a couch. It even had a fireplace. The room’s vibe was masculine, but inviting.
“Beth, it’s fabulous, but, ah, where’s the bed?”
“Knucklehead, it’s the room off to your right.”
Laurel went through the door and walked into the bedroom. It was just as wonderful as the sitting room. Maybe even better. Decorated in warm autumn colors like the other room, the bedroom had only minimal furniture. The reason for this was obvious. Straight in front of her stood the biggest, comfiest bed she’d ever laid eyes on. A large oak, four-poster with a down comforter and pillows galore. Just looking at it made Laurel want to take a nap and never get up again.
She dragged her gaze away from sleep heaven to study the rest of the room. To her left were more sets of large windows along the wall, but instead of a window seat there were a pair of glass double doors. She walked over and pushed aside the long white filmy drapes and opened a door. A cool breeze entered bringing with it mist as she stepped outside onto a small balcony. The fog was still too thick to see the surrounding area.
“Wait till the fog clears,” Beth said as if reading her mind. “The view is spectacular. On a super clear day you can see across the plain to the ocean, which looks like it touches the sky. There’s nothing like the bright blue Scottish sky. You’re going to love it here.”
Laurel was sure she would. Scotland had been a dream of hers—now a reality, and much better than staying in Chicago facing the broken dreams of a shattered love affair.
“And that’s not all,” Beth interrupted her depressing thoughts, “you’ve got to see the bathroom. We’ve just remodeled it. Very twenty-first century.”
She allowed herself to be tugged along to the opposite side of the room. Beth was right, the bathroom was gorgeous, and the only thing modern about the suite of rooms. White granite with dark variegations lined the floor and counter tops. The claw-foot bathtub beckoned her to take a deep soak, and a built-in corner shower which contained the clearest glass it almost appeared there wasn’t any, would make getting ready quickly a snap. The interior had some sort of stone, with multiple showerheads and even a stone bench. And for a romantic touch, candles of all shapes and sizes were strategically placed in various locations. The whole room looked like a Poseidon paradise.
Her jet lag began to set in, as did her reason for being here. “I need this, thanks so much, Beth.”
They hugged.
“I’m glad you came. I’ve missed you so much. Relax. Take a good long bath, then meet me for tea. We have a lot of catching up to do.” Beth gave her another quick hug and a kiss on the cheek, before departing, leaving Laurel standing in the bathroom door a bit dazed and exhausted.
Like a robot, she walked into the bathroom and turned on the faucet to the tub. Keeping her fingers under the water until the temperature heated to almost hurting, she then plugged the tub. She noticed the plush robe on the back of the door and plenty of towels. Her luggage hadn’t arrived, but there certainly was no reason not to get naked.
By the time she added some lavender oil to the water, organized towels, robe, and shed her clothes, the water almost reached the tub’s rim. Turning off the tap, Laurel tentatively dipped a toe and winched. Hot, but a good pain.
Steeling herself, she stepped into the tub and sank with one swift movement up to her neck. A gasp escaped her throat, as she closed her eyes against the heat. With a few deep breaths, her temperature and the water regulated, and a contented sigh passed her lips. She took another breath, inhaling the lush lavender aroma. Tension from the past month and the long travel day oozed away, sending Laurel into an almost sleep state.
Derek’s image floated through her mind. Handsome, milk chocolate brown hair and vivid green eyes stared back at her. When she’d first laid eyes on him in the museum, she couldn’t speak. Never had she reacted so physically to a guy. Simply gorgeous. Her heart had actually raced. In no way, not in a million years had she suspected he’d developed any interest in her. Although three years ago, Laurel still vividly remembered when he approached her and asked her out for coffee.
A single tear escaped from behind her closed eyes. Damn it, no. She wasn’t going to torture herself. Her eyes snapped open. Enough. It was over, and she was done with crying. Her toes sought the plug under the water. Finding it, she pulled. The water glugged then started to empty. She watched the whirlpool swirl down the drain, almost like a replay of watching her dreams of a loving relationship, a true partnership, disappear forever.
Chapter Three
Laurel knocked on the door one floor directly above her own room. Beth answered and invited her in. The room was decorated more femininely and much larger than hers. A tea service rested on a table in front of the couch.
Beth led the way. “You’re looking much better. You were fading there. The soak helped.”
“The tub was wonderful. I can’t believe I could submerge myself to the neck and stretch out! I’d kill for one at home. Did you have to custom order it?”
Beth laughed. “Nope. Apparently they grow large men in the Highlands, the tub was a stock item. Awesome, huh?”
They reached the couch and sat. Beth picked up the beautiful teapot decorated with pink heather, and poured tea into two similar hand-painted china cups.
“It’s Earl Grey with lavender,” Beth explained. “Let me know if you like it.”
Holding the steaming cup, Laurel sniffed the fragrant steam before tentatively taking a sip. Happily, she discovered it wasn’t too hot to drink.
“Mmmm, it’s really good.”
“I knew it. Now,” Beth set her cup down and met Laurel’s eyes directly. “How are you really doing?”
She sighed. “I’m okay.” She saw her frien
d’s skeptical look. “Really. I put Derek out of my life. Moved on.”
Laurel knew she was kidding herself. She had taken Beth’s invitation to visit as a chance to escape Derek. She needed time away to heal her broken heart and figure out what to do next. The added benefit of visiting Scotland was hanging with her best friend who knew her so well. Beth even knew when Laurel was currently lying to herself.
“Honey, you were with that skeeving lowlife for three years, with no ring, no commitment, and apparently no monogamous understanding. It’s okay to hurt.”
“Yeah, I know. Why do you think I took you up on your offer of a vacation getaway?” Laurel took a long sip of her tea then stared into the cup. “The long flight helped put things into perspective. Derek is a loser. He always was. Apparently all looks and no substance. I just romanticized him, and apparently wore blinders.”
Romance. What a fickle emotion. She might be in one of the most romantic places on earth, but too bad, no more faux relationships. Derek had fooled her, and broken her heart. She really needed to change the conversation before she started crying.
“My family says ‘hi’. They want to know when you’re planning on coming back for a visit.”
Beth smiled. “Even your brothers?”
“Well, Tom thinks you’re insane for marrying a foreigner, but forgives you and would love to see you.”
“Ah, the one that got away,” Beth laughed. “He was never interested in me when I practically lived in your backyard, seriously crushing on him. How are the other two hooligans, Sam and Chance?”
“When they heard about Derek, they, as well as Tom, wanted to go beat the shit out of him,” Laurel grinned, remembering the argument.
“You should have let them, that’s what protective brothers are for.”
Air escaped from Laurel’s lips in a sigh. How in the world did they get the conversation back to Derek again?
Time for a new topic. “All right, spill the beans. Is my room haunted? It has to be if you won’t book it during your busiest time. The room’s amazing, and being in the middle of nowhere, I figured you’d want to fill it with an actual paying guest.”
“Trying to change the subject, are we? You’re transparent as a window. I’ll let you get away with it for now, but by no means are we finished,” Beth challenged. “Yes, your room is probably haunted.”
Laurel grinned. Her love for the supernatural, shared equally with Beth, was well known. She couldn’t wait to hear more. “So, give me the 411 on your spooky Casper. I assume it’s not harmful or anything, unless you have a desire to off me that I don’t know about?”
“Nope. Sorry, still want you around. No worries. Our ghost is harmless, and pretty much quiet. It’s weird, though,” Beth added. “It’s like a seasonal haunting or something. Our ghost appears to love the summer, but then again who wouldn’t, especially this far north?”
“Summer? Are you only getting activity when it’s warm?”
“July, actually. Only the month of July,” Beth replied with a slight frown.
“I’ve never heard of a ghost haunting for only a month at a time. Bizarre. So what are the claims?” Laurel held her breath for the answer. She’d tried to stay in a couple of haunted hotels before but walked away with no personal experiences.
“Well, it’s nothing bad, just some noises, and occasional misplaced objects. Sometimes people complain about it being cold, or a feeling of being watched, but that’s it. Honest.”
“Ah, where’s TAPS when you need them.” Laurel chuckled, thinking of “The Atlantic Paranormal Society”, whose show, Ghost Hunters had been her and Beth’s perennial favorite television series.
“Are you freaked out? I can move you if you want, but you’ve told me about the other haunted places you stayed. You never had ghost sightings with them but maybe this room will be the one. Grant’s owned the hotel for several years and swears it haunted, but I’m not so sure. I’ve been here a year now and nothing’s ever happened around me.”
“Ha, you sound like Jason or was it Grant? I can never remember which one of the Ghost Hunters, kept refusing to list a place haunted. I guess we should just keep it listed under paranormal activity?” Laurel paused for a moment, when she realized something. “Hey, wait a sec. You married a Grant! Is there some weird coincidence or fetish going on?”
“You wish. Nope, nothing weird or abnormal, just your everyday coincidence,” Beth replied. “And honestly, if you’re uncomfortable, we’ll put—”
“Absolutely not!” Laurel allowed herself a half smile. “You know me too well, especially after I saw the rooms there would be no way I’d back out. I’ve never stayed any place so fancy. I adore my room and even more now with a chance for a spectral encounter.”
Beth smiled. “Yeah, well, you are the history buff, and we’re not best friends for nothing. And speaking of that, how are you handling seeing Derek all the time?”
Laurel inwardly winced. How neatly her friend brought them back to their original topic. “Not great, but I’m hoping time away will make things easier. I know it’s silly, but seeing the cheating sleaze on a weekly basis, hasn’t been great for my work,” she admitted. “Your timing was perfect. I was driving myself insane. He’s an ass, and I’m determined not to let him interfere with my life.”
“I’m glad. You deserve so much better,” Beth reached over and gave her a quick hug. “And I have just the solution to help you,” a mischievous grin lit her face. “A handsome Highlander to take your mind off your troubles.”
“Oh no, Beth, absolutely not.” Laurel was so not ready to dive into another relationship. She promised to swear off men, cold turkey it for a while, not get back into the dating pool after only two weeks. Her friend was insane.
“Too late and too bad. It’s already done,” Beth countered. “He’s perfect for you. You’re going to love him.”
“Really, no. I’m not ready for this.”
“Stop freaking yourself out. Look, there’s no commitment. If you don’t like him, don’t date him. If you do, have some holiday sex. I’m not asking you to marry him, though he’s certainly a keeper,” Beth argued. “I’m hosting a small dinner tomorrow, which he is attending. His name is Alex MacKenzie, a neighbor actually. You’ve got a lot in common. I really think you’ll like him. Please, just give it a try?”
Oh what the hell. Laurel sighed as she nodded. Her life wasn’t over. Maybe a Highland fling was just the thing.
Chapter Four
Cleitmuir Manor
February 1809
The wind blasted into his face carrying a sheet of icy rain, as Simon and his horse carefully picked their way onto the plateau. He urged his mount into a trot, then a canter, all the while praying the gelding was sure-footed. It was madness to be out in this storm.
Yet he had been gripped by insanity since the dreaded news had reached him on the Continent. “The Earl of Cleitmuir is dead, you are needed at once.”
What had happen?
He immediately sold his military commission in order to return home and take up his duties as the new Earl. The war against Napoleon wasn’t his problem any more. His responsibilities to his mother and sister took precedence. He regretted leaving others to do what Simon wanted to accomplish, but he shirked his family long enough. It was finally time to return home. Simon found the first ship headed north, but sailing around Cape Wrath had been a nightmare of violent currents, wild winds, and lashing waves when the ship ran into a winter North Atlantic storm. The Captain and crew deserved a medal for reaching port at Balnakeil Bay intact.
Simon wasted no time in Durness. He grabbed a meat pie, bought a horse, and then rode south. Only a few minutes into the ride, he had been soaked through and chilled to the bone. His pace was forced to a crawl by the storm, but none of this mattered. He needed to reach his home. He needed to see his family and to find out what happened.
So he rode. Lifting a hand from the reins, he shoved a wet hank of hair from his eyes, and then through the heav
y mist and dense rain Cleitmuir Manor appeared in the far distance. Home at last, its warm glow a safe port in the dark storm.
Simon urged his mount faster, eyes fixed on his goal. He knew this land like the back of his hand. He approached the manor from the rear and thundered up to the stable. He leapt off his horse and took hold of the reins to lead the gelding into the stable.
He barely crossed the threshold when the stable master greeted him. Brian showed his age with thinning gray hair instead of the busy thick red of his younger days. He had been stable master since Simon was born, even taught him how to ride. Brian was always there for Simon, comforting him when as a wee lad felt he had nowhere else to go. No judgment, only sternness when needed, and comfort always.
“Simon, ah, I mean my lord, we weren’t expecting you so soon. Here, let me take him.”
He passed the reins, and ran his free hands through his soggy hair pushing it away from his face. “Thanks, Brian. I couldna stay away.” He glanced worriedly over his shoulder back to the stable’s entrance in the direction of the manor. “Are they well?”
“As to be expected, sir.”
“Right,” he sighed. He gave a quick pat to the tired rain-soaked horse. “Treat him like royalty. He has a stout heart and iron will. We’ll have to think of a name...” Simon hesitated. What was he doing? He should be running to the house, not bantering with Brian, who stood staring at him.
The stable master gave him a sad smile. “Go on now, lad. The beast will be well seen to. Your family needs you.”
With a brief nod, Simon left the stable. The cold wind hit him as the rain continued to pelt down. He broke into a jog, following the path to the manor. He was running by the time he passed under the trellis and sped through the garden. He reached the kitchen door and yanked it open.
The door had barely closed behind him when he heard a shout.
“Simon!”
He scarcely managed to open his arms and catch his sister, Jean, as she flung herself at him. His arms wrapped around her, both heedless of his soaking clothes.