Frowning in annoyance, Kyle paced back and forth, his steps agitated as he crossed the battlement time and again. Then he stopped, braced his palms on the ancient brick wall and stared at the bright blue sky filled with large white clouds. “Come on, Rollie, old chum. Help me here, would you? Guide my path to join you, I beg of you. Or if that is truly not possible, then show me the way to stay here, to spend the rest of my life with your cousin.”
Kyle dragged a hand through his hair and drew a deep breath.
Nothing. Not that he had expected a response. What had he expected? He dropped his arms back to his sides and kicked at the loose rocks on the tower floor, sending them in a cascade over the edge of the battlement staircase.
Listening to the sound of the stones careening off the steps, he looked again to the heavens.
Kyle wasn’t sure there even was an answer to that question. Lately, it seemed all his questions were going unanswered, especially the one that would end his time on Earth.
Chapter Seven
Devin paced across the large office, her steps muffled in the thick wool rug that encompassed three quarters of the room. Time and again she walked one way, then the next. She couldn’t get this room out of her mind. For some reason, she felt as though there was something here she was missing. There had to be something she was overlooking, something that might aid in her search for answers. All morning long, it had nagged at her, until Devin finally gave in to the feeling and headed back to Rollie’s office.
Staring at the wall behind the massive desk, Devin noted the portrait right where Kyle had said it would be, and the safe nestled behind. The only surprise was that the safe held no lock to secure the contents. Devin swung open the small gray steel door, unsure of what she would find within.
Would it be information to help Lord MacLay pass on? Or perhaps something more? She smiled at the cache contained within. A large crystal bowl full of gold foil covered chocolate coins. Rollie’s favorites, she remembered fondly. Shaking her head ruefully, Devin gently closed the door on the treasures. Leave it to Rollie to make a splash with everything he did, from the castle, to the chocolates.
Moving back to the desk chair, Devin slowly sat down and surveyed the many drawers before her. Drumming her fingertips on the leather blotter, she contemplated her next move. Where to start? What to look for?
Starting with the top center drawer, Devin pulled it open and sifted through the contents: bills of lading for products bought from the States, receipts for items purchased in Scotland, and paperwork for repairs that needed to be made to the castle.
Knowing what a neat freak Rollie had been, Devin was careful to replace the bills where she found them. In the next drawer, she found a manila file folder full of postcards and letters she’d sent Rollie over the years, each one a painful reminder of her failure to visit. If she had, would the outcome be different than it was today? Of that, she wasn’t sure.
Putting the file back, Devin moved on to the third drawer and found Rollie’s To-Do list. Some of the items were crossed off, others remained.
“Arrange for stone mason to repair steps on battlement, talk to Vicar about annual Easter Egg Hunt on back lawn. Change furnace filters, re-caulk the windows on the main floor. Contact Lord Con…” The rest of the name was blurred on the paper. Devin held it up to the light to try and see the words but to no avail. Whatever had been spilled on the notepad had erased all vestiges of the word. Who was Rollie going to contact and why? The first part was Lord, so it must have been someone important. As for the rest, who knew? She would never know.
Such simple tasks, and yet, she couldn’t see Rollie working a caulking gun no matter how hard she tried. Devin smiled. But talking to the Vicar about the Easter egg Hunt…quite possibly she could carry on that tradition at the castle. If only all her problems were as easily solved as the ones on Rollie’s list.
Devin made a mental note to ask Mrs. Goode for the Vicar’s number, and then noticed the rolodex in the drawer. Possibly the numbers would be there for who she could call to accomplish the other tasks on the list.
Swinging around in the chair, Devin noticed for the first time an enormous mahogany armoire positioned in the corner of the room. Walking over to it, she admired the intricate carvings that graced the doors. Upon closer inspection, she found them to be bagpipes, etched into each raised door panel.
Opening the double doors, Devin found a state-of-the-art sound system contained within. A stereo receiver, compact disc player, and a column of compact disks that reached from the base of the cabinet to the top.
Pressing the power button, Devin listened as the strains of Louis Armstrong filled the room. Jazz…Rollie’s favorite type of music. She remembered how she loved to tease him about his jazz. The “old fart’s music,” Devin snorted in recollection. He had merely smiled and shrugged off her jibes.
Thumbing through the C.D. collection, she replaced the one playing with one from the stack and hit the play button. The deep husky strains of Elvis soon filled the room and her head.
She closed her eyes and let the music wash over her, swinging and swaying along with the tempo. For the first time in a very long while, Devin felt free to indulge her mood.
“Everybody in the whole cell block…” She joined in with Elvis and pivoted in circles about the study.
“What is that infernal racket?” Lord MacLay’s voice cut into her thoughts.
Opening her eyes, she found him standing mere inches before her. “Nice of you to pop in. This happens to be classic rock and roll, I’ll have you know.”
“Sounds like someone stepped on a feline quite repeatedly.”
“Everyone knows Elvis. He’s the King of Rock and Roll…a legend in his own time. So lighten up, Lord Lucifer. I’m sure you’ve heard of him.”
He cocked his head to one side. “That thing you were doing before,” he gestured with his hand. “Circling the room by yourself.”
Devin sighed. “If you must know, I was dancing, slow dancing, actually.”
“Like the waltz?” he queried.
“Sort of, but not as stuffy. How do you know the waltz?” Devin questioned.
“I have seen many things during my lifetime, and that was one of them. Now, show me this slow dance you were doing.”
“Well, I don’t know…” Devin bit her lower lip, unsure of what to do next, remembering how their last encounter had ended.
“Afraid of me, Lady Noone?” He arched his eyebrow and grinned at her.
“Never.” Her look defied him, as she nervously tried to quell the butterflies in her stomach.
He moved toward her, slowly, one step at a time, then halted directly before her.
Devin gulped and lifted her hand to his shoulder, then placed her other hand in his. For the first time in her life, Devin was grateful for Miss Milliken and her formal dance lessons. Though she dreaded them in sixth grade, right now she silently thanked the woman for her fortitude in enforcing that Devin be an accomplished student.
“Like this?” His back ramrod straight, he looked ready to march rather than dance.
“Less stiff, more fluid. Now, put your hand on my waist. That’s it. Now, move your feet back and forth, as though you were shifting your balance from one foot to the other. Feel the music. Let it guide you.”
The strains of Love Me Tender reached her ears—a slow song, and very powerful emotionally. Unfortunately, it was always one that turned her insides to mush every time she heard it.
Her nearness set his senses on fire. The touch of her hand nestled in his was doing crazy things to Kyle’s brain.
“Never let me go,” Devin sang the lyrics softly, her eyes closed.
The feel of her breath against his neck raised the hairs on his skin. At that moment, Kyle could think of nothing better than to hold her captive in his arms forever, just as the song proclaimed.
Without thinking, he lowered his mouth to hers and took her lips in a gentle kiss.
Devin’s arms tightened abo
ut him, drawing him near as she leaned closer. Her warmth stole into him, bringing light to where darkness once prevailed. He deepened the kiss, willing it to go on forever.
“Yes,” she breathed softly against his mouth.
Kyle obliged, crushing her mouth beneath his, his tongue taking possession of hers, teasing and taunting, promising so much more if she would let him.
Sweeping the inside of her mouth, he felt her tentative touch in return. His soul on fire, his hands slid down her arms, gliding over her shoulders and lingering at her breasts. Unsure of how to proceed, Kyle paused.
She moaned under his touch, and arched her back. An unspoken acquiesce.
A shiver coursed down his spine as Kyle took what she offered and allowed himself to touch her intimately. His thumbs caressed her breasts through the heavy sweater. Even with all the layers of clothing between them, he could feel the tiny nubs harden. His own body tightened in response.
“Milady,” he groaned, lowering his lips to her throat and feeling the erratic beat of her pulse beneath his mouth. His hands pushed at the heavy folds of material until he found skin. Warm, feminine bare flesh. Cupping her breasts in his hands, he continued to tease the buds beneath his fingers until she gasped.
Kyle lowered himself in the desk chair and pulled her down to his lap. Pushing the sweater up, he lowered his mouth to her breasts, laving first one, then the other.
“Do you like this?” He asked, nipping and teasing her with his lips.
Devin buried her fingers in his hair, urging him on, pressing her body to his, squirming against his lap in order to get closer.
“More please, more,” she begged, her voice shaky.
Eager to obey, Kyle suckled gently, then harder, hearing her cries echo throughout the room. He stoked the flames higher and higher. Capturing her other breast in his hand, he palmed the weight of it as he toyed with the rosy crest, giving her what she wanted and needed.
His lower body throbbed as blood rushed to his groin, a welcome contrast to the years of emptiness he had endured.
Devin ran her hands over his shoulders, down his chest and across his back. Touching him, igniting him, offering herself to him.
He wanted her, but knew this was neither the time nor place to consummate their passion. But more importantly, if the opportunity presented itself, could he make love to her? Kyle wondered.
Slowly, with unsteady hands, he reluctantly lowered her sweater back into place and lifted his gaze to hers.
“Later, milady. Not here in the study, not now. And most definitely not like this.”
Devin stared at him as though seeing him for the first time, then clamped her hand across her mouth.
Scrambling from his lap, she backed toward the opposite wall. “Not again,” she whispered, crossing her arms over her chest.
Kyle stood, his arousal unmistakable.
Devin blushed. “We can’t keep doing this, Lord MacLay. We can’t.”
“We can and we did, milady. And it was most pleasurable,” he said quietly.
Yes, it was, she thought inwardly. It was very pleasurable.
This time it was her turn to flee the room.
****
A tiny voice inside her head scolded Devin for allowing herself to get caught up in the moment again. Twice in one day. This couldn’t be happening. What was she thinking?
That was the problem. She wasn’t thinking, at least not with her head. She was thinking with her heart. Kyle was a man and she was a woman. Correction, he was a ghost and she was a woman. No…okay, what difference did it make? It shouldn’t have happened regardless of the circumstances.
Shoving her fingers through her hair, she groaned and leaned back against the wall in the hallway.
But it had felt so good, and so right. What was the harm in that? She wondered. They were enjoying each other’s company, she was teaching him to slow dance and then…then it became something totally different. Something real, vibrant and passionate.
“Urgh,” she mumbled. “That’s the problem. It was passionate.”
How could you feel passion for a ghost? For that matter, how did he manage to have such an enormous erection?
She felt her cheeks warm at the very thought. The bulge in his pants couldn’t be missed. Nestled against her thigh, it felt wonderful. Powerful, throbbing, alive. But he was dead and no power in this world could change that one single, solitary fact.
“Darn it all,” she groused. “This isn’t supposed to be happening. Come on, Rollie, help me out here.”
“Wait a minute,” Devin paused. “This better not be your idea of a good time, Rollie,” she wagged her finger to the heavens. “I am not going to fall in love with a ghost. No way. No how. And that’s final.”
With a quick look back at the study door, Devin headed for the kitchen, more confused than ever.
Pushing open the swinging door, Devin stepped in to the room. All activity instantly ceased and two very surprised faces turned in her direction.
“Your Ladyship,” the young serving girl stammered, rushing forward to drop a curtsy. “It’s an honor.” She bobbed up and down, eyes wide and a look of awe on her features.
“Off with you, Galene. I’ll see to her ladyship,” the Cook intoned, sending the young girl off with a brisk nod.
“Yes, ma’am.” The girl dropped another quick curtsy and scurried for the door.
“I did something wrong again, broke another protocol rule,” Devin sighed. When was she ever going to do the right thing at the right time?
Cook smiled and shook her head. “Not at all, milady. It’s been awhile since we’ve had visitors to the kitchen. Please, sit down.” She gestured to a chair at the table.
Devin moved further into the room and glanced around. She remembered briefly passing the kitchen on the day she arrived, but not since. A massive brick hearth dominated the room. A cheery blaze burned within, warming the room to a toasty level.
The appliances were all stainless steel and spotlessly shiny. Everything seemed very modern and up-to-date, neat and tidy, no crumbs to be seen at all.
“His Lordship Roland had the kitchen remodeled immediately after he moved in,” Cook informed her proudly, as though reading Devin’s thoughts. “We now have a microwave, dishwasher and a little spigot that spouts hot water instantly.”
“It’s wonderful,” Devin murmured, trying to take it all in.
“Your cousin had a penchant for late night snacking. He used to come down and whip up some of your fancy American concoctions. We had some very interesting chats and I know I gained a few pounds from his treats.” She patted her middle. “He would entice the entire staff to come join him, singing, dancing about the room. Had us all in stitches that he did. Such a dear man. I’m sorry, milady.” She sniffed. “But enough of my blathering on like an idiot.”
“No, please. I’d love to hear more,” Devin prompted. “Do you think it would be all right if I came and visited the kitchen? But I’m a lousy chef. And I promise not to wake anyone up. I wouldn’t want to disrupt your routine or get anyone in trouble.”
“Milady, by your hand alone would be the only way we would be in trouble.”
“Oh,” Devin was confused.
“Still having problems getting the hang of all this, aren’t you?” Cook patted Devin’s hand.
“Big time. What with the rules of being a lady, finding my way around the castle, and Lord MacLay.”
“Begging your pardon if my question is out of line, but is his Lordship giving you fits, Milady?”
“He’s…he’s…I don’t know what he is,” Devin concluded.
“How about we have some tea and cookies, lass? And a little chat as well.”
“I’d really like that,” Devin replied, watching as Cook efficiently poured two cups of tea and assembled a heaping plate of cookies within seconds.
“Now, where were we? Oh yes, Lord Rollie and the Laird. They were quite a pair. Didn’t dare turn your back on either one. Great practical jok
ers as well. Whether on each other or the rest of the staff.”
“You’ve seen Laird MacLay?”
Cook chuckled. “Many times. Still do. Not everyone does though. Only the ones he chooses to reveal himself to. My gran told me stories when I was but a small girl, way back when, the Laird even then a ghost, would visit the kitchens and drop a kiss on the poor unsuspecting serving girls cheeks, or he might pat their rumps, causing them to spill their platters of food. All sorts of mischief. Shook their wits that it did. Never meant any harm by it. I’ve been kissed a time or two myself.” Cook stopped and looked at Devin, as though she were peering deep inside her, and could see something Devin couldn’t. “But with you, it’s different.”
Devin ducked her head, and picked up her tea cup, hoping her blush wasn’t a dead giveaway. “Why do you say that?”
“Well, since your arrival the Laird hasn’t popped in at all. Too preoccupied with you, would be my guess.”
Devin groaned. “What am I going to do? He’s a ghost.”
Cook reached across the table and took Devin’s hands in hers. “Do what your heart tells you to, lass.”
“If only it were that simple,” Devin replied shakily.
Chapter Eight
After leaving the kitchen with the words of the Cook dogging her thoughts, Devin once again found solace in Elsbeth’s journal—the only thing that made sense to her since her arrival here in Castle Loch Haven.
April 7th, 1602
Diary, we are here! The castle is enormous; I fear I will get lost trying to locate my quarters. The land is beautiful. Everything is so lush, so green, and so vast. The water is smooth, and the shoreline is dotted with many birds.
The Laird’s holdings are immense, as you can see for miles. The people have been so friendly and kind in welcome. They waved and smiled at me as our traveling party passed through their tiny village. Young girls brought me bouquets of wildflowers that had picked themselves along the roadway. The older women heaped gifts of wine, cheese and handmade linens upon us as we slowed our progress to accommodate their welcome. It brought me to tears, Diary, their fondness for their Laird and his happiness.
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