Bloody Moor: A Ghost Story (Taryn's Camera Book 8)

by Rebecca Patrick-Howard

  “To hell with all that,” Miriam cried at once, slapping the table with her hand. “I say we all play a game of pool and then give ourselves a hand at the karaoke. I’m off tomorrow and quite in the mood to get my drink on!”

  The other women sent up a cheer and Taryn smiled. Now that she could agree on.

  As they all stood to make their way to the pool table in the back, Taryn handed Miriam the handful of change she’d found in her pocket.

  “What’s this for?” Miriam asked, looking genuinely confused.

  “For my drink,” Taryn explained.

  “Don’t worry about it. You’ll buy the next round!”

  Later, when Taryn watched the way the rest of the women took turns buying the rounds, she felt embarrassed. She also knew that she couldn’t afford to go out often. There were eight of them. She could only afford one round a night and, at the rate they were going, that wouldn’t be nearly enough.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  STILL WEARY AND HUNG OVER, Taryn sat with her head up against the cool glass of the passenger seat’s window.

  “Did you sleep okay last night?” Miriam asked.

  Taryn felt greasy and jet-lagged. Miriam, on the other hand, looked as fresh and bright as a daisy. She was clearly superior to Taryn in the drinking department.

  “I might just take a nap when I get home,” Taryn confessed. “Thanks for letting me spend the night with you, though.”

  “It’s no problem,” Miriam laughed. “I couldn’t have driven in the shape I was in anyway. Oh, and good job on the singing. You got two standing ovations. Well done you!”

  Taryn preened before remembering that her second one had come at two in the morning, long after everyone else in the pub had lost their good sense.

  “Miriam, I wanted to ask you about something,” Taryn said. They were nearing Ceredigion House’s driveway and she needed to talk fast. “Someone told me about a man who lived here in the eighteenth century. A story about him sneaking out in the middle of the night? Maybe leaving without anyone knowing? I think it was during Iona’s time.”

  She wasn’t comfortable enough with telling her how she knew about it. Miriam looked nonplussed, however.

  “Perhaps it was Amlodd?” she ventured.

  “Amlodd? I don’t know him,” Taryn said.

  “A friend of the family’s. There’s a big family story about his betrothal to Iona. It didn’t go through but he was here for quite some time,” Miriam explained.

  “Did he die here?” Taryn asked.

  “Not here, but he did pass on not long after he returned to Somerset. Or what we know as Somerset today.”

  “Did she get blamed for that one?”

  Miriam grinned as she pulled up in front of the house. “In a sense. Not for his death, however. He was in line to inherit a good deal of money. Married to Iona, his wealth would have increased, thanks to her land. It was an arranged marriage, you see. Supposedly, however, while here there was some question about his legitimacy. It seemed to have risen out of nowhere. The marriage was called off in a hurry, he returned home to fight for his inheritance, and he passed on one week later.”

  “Is there any place where I can learn more about that?”

  Miriam nodded. “In Aberystwyth, at the uni, there’s archives. They have a copy of Iona’s journal. There’s not much in there. I believe most is about the house-the taxes, the sales, things like that. But I heard she wrote about him. You could start there.”

  Taryn was so excited when she left the car that she could barely feel her throbbing head.

  ***

  Someone had been in Taryn’s room. She could feel it as soon as she walked through the door. The feeling that someone had only just been in there seconds before her filled the air. Taryn breathed in deeply and looked around. Their scent, sickly with raw anger, still lingered in the air.

  It made her extremely uncomfortable. Rather than hanging around, she dumped her purse on the bureau and changed clothes. Then she went to seek out Nicki in the garden.

  Nicki was sitting cross-legged under a tree, making notes and sketching designs in a spiral bound notebook when Taryn approached her.

  “Hey you!” Nicki cried, jumping to her feet and throwing her arms around Taryn’s shoulders. “I was so worried!”

  “I’m sorry,” Taryn apologized. “It just got to be so late. I didn’t want her out on the road.”

  “I just missed you,” Nicki said. Then she actually did a little dance and jumped into the air. “I’m just so excited that you’re here!”

  The last anyone had shown such enthusiasm for Taryn’s presence was when she was in kindergarten. It was kind of nice.

  “What are you working on?” she asked.

  “The garden is coming along a lot more slowly than I thought it would,” Nicki complained, pointing down at her notebook. “There was a lot going on in this one and there are almost zero indications of what was originally here.”

  “It looks like you’re off to a good start, though,” Taryn said. She was also meant to paint and sketch the garden. She was hoping Nicki would be able to help her out. Taryn’s landscaping skills were nonexistent.

  “In the past,” Nicki explained as she pointed to a large stretch of scraggly grass, “they would have used this area as a kind of promenade. A place to get out and exercise and socialize. Probably would have even brought household furniture out here to sit on.”

  Taryn nodded her encouragement.

  “But on back here, starting at this slab of concrete in the ground,” Nicki pointed, “there was a real working garden with fruits and vegetables and things for the house. So even though this was a formal garden, it had a lot of different purposes.”

  “I love this place,” Taryn breathed as she looked around. “Don’t you feel like it’s kind of…”

  “Romantic?” Nicki suggested, eyes sparkling.

  Taryn laughed. “I was going to say ‘mysterious’ but ‘romantic’ works, too.”

  “Without any else here but us, I kind of feel like it’s our own secret place. Like nobody but us knows about it,” Nicki confessed. “I am kind of dreading it getting renovated and other people imposing upon it.”

  “I know what you mean,” Taryn said.

  “I talked to Shawn last night,” Nicki said. “He brought me up some ice cream and we watched a movie in my room. We were wondering where we go from here, the three of us with the house. Wondering what you thought we should do.”

  “I think the house wants something,” Taryn said. “It’s showing us these things for a reason. I haven’t figured out what that reason is just yet.”

  “What if it’s trying to tell us that the place really is cursed and that we need to get out before something happens to us?” Nicki’s eyes were so big and bright and her voice so sincere that, for a moment, Taryn wondered if perhaps she was right.

  “I’ve been warned before,” Taryn said at last. She thought of her Aunt Sarah in a cheap motel room back in Kentucky. She’d had a warning then. This didn’t feel the same. “I don’t think that’s what this is.”

  “Something hidden here?” Nicki suggested. “Something we’re meant to find?”

  Taryn quickly filled her on the journal kept at the university in Aberystwyth. “Miriam said it didn’t have much in it but, I don’t know. There might be something useful. It’s all we’ve got at this point anyway.”

  “I’m game,” Nicki said. “How about the three of us take the day off tomorrow and go over there? We can have a good meal, eat some ice cream, go paddling in the sea, and read the book.”

  Taryn frowned. “It’s sixty degrees here. I am assuming the British form of ‘paddling’ is different from the American? Because I am not feeling much like a swim or boat ride.”

  Nicki laughed. “It just means going for a little wave. I promise.”

  “Oh, good.”

  Taryn was halfway across the garden, almost to the gate, when she paused and looked back over her shoulder. “He
y Nicki, you know a lot about these things. Are you familiar with Amlodd?”

  Nicki looked up from her notebook and grinned. “Of course,” she replied. “King Arthur’s grandfather.”

  Taryn started to correct her, to explain the difference between that Amlodd and Iona’s. But then she stopped. She could tell Nicki about him later.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  “I’M NOT SURE I LIKE ALL THE DRINKING,” Matt said.

  Although there was nothing accusatory in his voice, Taryn’s back bristled. She’d had two glasses of port and two glasses wine during the entire time she’d been in Wales. It wasn’t as though she were turning into a slovenly drunk.

  “It’s fine,” she said cheerfully. “I haven’t blacked out in at least twenty-four hours.”

  Matt did not appear amused.

  “So tell me about work,” she cajoled him. “Any new interns?”

  He chattered on for the next few minutes, telling her about his latest research project, the long nights he was pulling with his students, and about his upcoming trip to Houston.

  “Is there any chance they’ll send you there permanently?” Taryn asked. For some reason, the thought of living in Texas was much more exciting to her than moving to Florida. She had nothing against Florida, but she had a lot of love for cowboy boots and country music.

  “It’s always a possibility, I imagine,” Matt replied. He sounded neither for nor against the idea.

  Taryn took a moment and let herself consider this. If Matt were transferred to Houston, would she be more likely to go with him? To start over there? Maybe for her, the idea of moving down to Florida with him lacked luster because he was already there. He had a life there, a house, friends, and a job. His favorite places to eat, his stores, the movie cinema he frequented. Everything was already “his” and she’d simply be trying to slip into them to make them work for her. In some ways, she’d be giving things up but his world would continue on as normal. But if they were to both move to Texas and start over…would that be different somehow? She wasn’t sure.

  “Is there anything I can do for you?” Matt asked at last. “Usually, at this stage of the game, you’re throwing some research or at least some pictures my way. It’s been kind of quiet on your end.”

  Now he sounded hurt and Taryn really did feel bad. “Actually, there is something you could look up for me,” she said. “I want to know more about my ancestors, where they came from. I know we’re Welsh on my mother’s side and I’m really interested in our genealogy. If I send you some names, can you look them up for me?”

  “Sure,” Matt replied. “I can do it.”

  He had really missed his calling as a reference librarian. If there was any information out there, Matt could find it.

  Technically, Taryn didn’t need him look anything up for her; she was perfectly capable of doing it on her own. However, Matt liked to feel a part of things. He have never really gotten into the photography aspect of things and could care less about old houses but he was all about supporting her and helping her where he could. He couldn’t stand celery but he’d spend the day digging them out of the ground and then stand in the hot sun at a roadside stand and sell them if he thought it would benefit Taryn.

  ***

  “Let’s play ‘lady of the house’,” Nicki had suggested.

  So, acting like children playing dress up, they’d donned the fanciest dresses their suitcases held, curled their hair and piled it atop their heads, and retired to the main parlor after dinner.

  “Tea for the ladies?” Shawn called. He danced into the room balancing a tray of teacups in his hand.

  Taryn laughed and accepted what he offered.

  “I make a mean cuppa,” he grinned. “I’ve been learning from the best here.”

  “Oh, Nicki,” Taryn asked. “I was wondering what it’s meant by a lock out. Or lock in. I see the signs on the pubs all the time.”

  “Oh,” Nicki began as she took a cup of tea. “It’s where, at a certain time of night, the pub locks the door and doesn’t let anyone out.”

  Shawn did a double take at her and then broke into peals of laughter. “Man, if you weren’t so cute,” he howled. Shaking his head, he turned back to Taryn. “They don’t lock you in, they lock other people out. If you’re already in there then you can stay but nobody else can enter.”

  Nicki didn’t look bothered. “Well, I knew it was one or the other,” she shrugged.

  Taryn laughed. Sometimes she was absolutely convinced that Nicki was one of those young souls on their first incarnation.

  “So we were going to talk ‘The Mists of Avalon’,” Nicki prodded. “What did you think?”

  Taryn leaned back in her chair and sighed. Shawn had gotten a fire started, after clearing it with Paul, and the glow and warmth of the flames relaxed her as well as any glass of wine. In her “fancy” dress she felt sophisticated and refined leaning back in the Rococo style chair. And now she was talking about a book. It was one of the best evenings she had in awhile.

  “Okay,” she began, “I just want you to know that, other than the old Disney movie ‘The Sword in the Stone’, it’s the biggest introduction I’ve had to King Arthur stuff.”

  “Well, it’s the best,” Shawn said. “Even I’ve read it.”

  “Are you all religious?” Taryn asked, looking back and forth from Nicki to Shawn.

  “Kind of pagan here,” Nicki answered.

  “Not at all,” Shawn replied.

  “Neither am I,” Taryn admitted. “Don’t tell anyone or else I’ll lose my southern card.”

  “I grew up going to church,” Nicki said, “but as an adult it’s been difficult. I’m just not sure I believe in a lot of things the Bible says or that I can get on board with one religion being superior to another.”

  “I am spiritual I guess,” Taryn agreed, “but as far as following any one particular doctrine…I just can’t. I like a little bit from all of them.”

  “So do I,” Shawn agreed. “I believe in ghosts, reincarnation, going straight to Heaven-all of it.”

  “It’s something I’ve struggled with since seeing the past and being with the ghosts,” Taryn confessed. “Before it happened, I had kind of stopped believing that there was anything after life. My fiancé died in a car crash and I never had a single sign that he was still around. Same with my grandmother. I have basically resigned myself to the fact that this was it. I wanted there to be more, but I didn’t believe it.”

  “I’m sorry about your fiancé,” Nicki said sadly. “I didn’t know.”

  “Me too,” Shawn said, all humor fading from his face.

  “Thank you,” Taryn said softly. “I tried so hard to look for signs from him but they were never there. But then the pictures happened and well…”

  She let her voice trail off as she watched the flames flicker in the hearth. She didn’t know if she could go on. What she was about to say was so personal.

  “I guess I started to believe again, something I hadn’t been able to do in a long time.”

  Nicki nodded her encouragement.

  “I’ve read lots of religious manuscripts and books over the years,” Taryn continued shyly. “But nothing has ever affected me as powerfully as the spirituality described in this book. I’d honestly never thought of women as being so integral to the spiritual aspect of religion and I was drawn to that. It made me feel…”

  “Like a part of the bigger picture?” Shawn asked. Taryn nodded. “I understand. Apparently, that book is based on a lot of different sects of paganism and not necessarily one branch but it’s very heavy in goddess worship. I liked it, too.”

  “Have you been to Glastonbury?” Nicki asked.

  “No, this is my first time to the U.K.,” Taryn replied.

  “You should go,” Nicki said. Shawn nodded his reinforcement. “The Abbey, the Chalice Garden, the Glastonbury Tor…I think you’d get a lot of out of it.”

  “Lots of old energy there,” Shawn added, “and many differen
t religions represented. Christians go there for pilgrimages to see the yew trees and the abbey. To drink from the well. Pagans go for the Avalon stuff. I’ve been. I’m nowhere near a religious person and I felt closer to whatever creator is out there. I don’t mean to sound corny, but I did.”

  “I think I’ll go,” Taryn said slowly. “I’d like to see some of the places from the book but it’s also where Amlodd was from. Well, Somerset anyway. And where the Grail is apparently being held now. Lots of connections to us here. It might help.”

  What Taryn didn’t add was that she needed to get some distance for a bit-distance from the house, from Nicki and Shawn, and from work. She was loving spending almost every minute with them and Ceredigion House was even starting to feel like home in an odd sense, but Taryn was beginning to feel attachment to them all. She’d be leaving eventually. Like all the other friends she’d made on the road, they would grow apart, only linked by the occasional Facebook tags and status updates.

  Taryn didn’t think she could bear that; she was already starting to grieve.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  “SO WHEN YOU HEADED TO GLASTONBURY?” Nicki asked.

  It felt good to get out of Lampeter. Even though she had grown fond of the small town, Taryn had really not seen much of Wales since her arrival at Ceredigion House. Now, as Shawn sped over the narrow roads that looked little larger than driveways, she was able to sit back and appreciate the countryside. They drove through one tiny village after the other, some of them no bigger than a wide place in the road. She saw stone barns and graying pubs and farmers out in the fields with their lambs. Way off in the distance, she could even occasionally glance the sparkling blue water of the Irish Sea. The bucolic scene was peaceful and relaxing.