Page 124 of Once Upon A Haunted Castle
Chapter Two
It had beennearly two years since Laura had seen Cousin Herbert, his wife and children. For years, Herbert worked on constructing his new Caerlaverock Castle, the old one prone to flood. These last years with the work nearing completion, the family held off travel to Scotland.
“Is Cousin Herbert well?” Laura asked sitting next to Lisbeth at the table. The enjoyment of visiting her mother’s Maxwell family was well worth the torture of a four day carriage ride.
“Cousin Herbert regrets they couldn’t be here, pressing obligations at the Parliament in Scone. Besides the completion of the castle, these are hard times at Caerlaverock. The late season crops did poorly. Grain is rationed and winter will be here soon enough. People look somewhere to put the blame.” Jamie took a pull on the ale. “Excellent, Sir. Excellent.”
Everyone enjoyed Glen Kirk’s ale. Only her father and his brewer knew the full list of ingredients and their proportions. Her father enjoyed that his friends and sometimes his adversaries tried to get the recipe out of him. That usually required drinking a lot of ale. Her father always had the last laugh. He walked away, not always steady, but he left them to sleep on or under a trestle table, no wiser.
“I’m glad you’re enjoying the ale. Now what is this about blame? Everyone understands no one’s responsible for a poor yield.” Her father, who hadn’t had an appetite for days did more than pick at his food and she was grateful.
Her mother glanced at Jamie and gave him an appreciative nod.
“The crops did poorly. Of course, you’re right. It’s not one’s fault, but the people want to blame someone. They think they’ve found their suspect, the ghost.” Jamie took a gulp of ale and then another.
To Laura, it didn’t appear that he was in any rush to continue the tale. Her ankles crossed under her chair and her foot wagged. She tore a piece of bread from the loaf with a bit more force than planned.
“Ghost? What ghost? Caerlaverock doesn’t have any ghosts. The stones are barely completed,” her mother said as if ghosts were an everyday occurrence.
Ann carried in a platter of meat pies.
“Our ghost is a new addition to the castle family. Several people have witnessed it including Herbert and his wife.” Jamie closed his eyes. She watched as he spent several moments enjoying the aroma of the platter of meat pies in front of him.
“Are you going to inhale the meat pie or put one on your trencher and eat it?” Laura asked. She glared at Lisbeth who didn’t try to hide her smirk and daintily took a pie off the platter.
“Cousin, you have no idea how wonderful Ann’s meat pie smells. For weeks, we’ve had nothing cooked with grain, but I won’t bore you with my trials and tribulations.” He took a pie and bit into it.
“Tell me more about this ghost,” her mother asked. After days of worrying about her parents, Laura was glad to see them both engaged in a lighthearted conversation.
“It’s a thorny issue. It appears to be a love story gone wrong,” he said between bites. “Evan, a footman, was betrothed to Angel, a housemaid. You may remember them, Darla.”
“Yes, a pretty and lively young woman. She helped me several times when I stayed with Herbert,” her mother said. “Herbert planned to elevate Evan to the castle Marshal.”
“You’re correct. He gave Evan the position when they moved into the new castle. Evan and Angel have been part of the castle staff since they were children and grew to be very much in love, so I’m told. With the recent concerns and difficulties, their wedding was a welcome distraction.” Jamie went on for several minutes, devouring a piece of venison.
“Go on, don’t stop telling the story now,” Laura demanded. “What has that to do with the ghost?”
He let out a heavy sigh, put the meat on his trencher, and turned to her. “After a rather loud argument, a castle servant found Evan dead, stabbed in the chest.” He took another bite of meat.
“And?” Lisbeth asked.
He ignored her outburst.
“And?” Her voice held a warning.
He drained his tankard dry then turned toward her.
“They found Angel’s dead body under his. Apparently, he killed her. Would you please pass the ale?” he asked Laura with a smile.
“Jamie, please. No more teasing,” her mother said.
He sat back in his chair. “The rumor is Angel learned Evan tainted the castle grain. She approached Evan to get his confession. They argued then fought. He killed her. Distraught over what he’d done, he killed himself.
“Not long afterward the ghost appeared. Those who have seen the apparition believe the ghost is Evan’s. No one has any idea how to put the spirit to rest. Personally, I think they’ve all had bad ale. Nothing compares to yours, Sir.” He lifted his tankard to his host.
Her father smiled with a small chuckle. He raised his tankard in salute then continued to eat.
“I don’t believe the story. Evan would never hurt Angel. I remember them clearly. She was sensible and reliable. And Evan was devoted to Herbert. He would never be unfaithful to the family. Something here is amiss. When did the deaths occur?” her mother asked.
