Always and Forever (2 page)

He stared at her for a minute realizing that his seduction was going to have to wait since as much as he wanted to sample that lush, little body he sure as hell had no intention of sleeping on the damn floor. Maybe after a day or two she'd come to him eager for a soft bed and a warm body to snuggle up to. Being a gentleman, he would certainly oblige her.

"All right. I'll check on you in a few days," he offered before he started towards the car. "If you need anything, call me."

"Okay."

Quinn watched until Derek turned the car around and disappeared down the hillside before grabbing her bags and walking the distance back to the castle. Once inside, she placed everything in the hall before she started to roam around. She knew how every room looked and realized Derek had a point. Because the castle was left abandoned, people had looted it through the years and most of the furnishings were gone but it made no difference to Quinn.

The front door opened into a little vestibule that led into the great hall where two walk-in fireplaces flanked the room. She knew the fireplaces vented outside the castle walls, modern thinking for the builder of the time, and had on more than one occasion lit a fire to keep herself warm during her visits.

On the walls were tapestries, though their colors had long ago faded, and as hard as she had studied them she had never been able to recognize their images. There was an old rectangle trestle table that sat upon a dais with two long benches that could easily fit ten large men on each side. She walked past the table into the buttery where the kegs of ale would have been kept and further down into the large kitchen.

It was a very modern kitchen for the day with two fireplaces, large butcher block tables for food preparation, a pantry dug into the dirt floor where the temperature would be colder to keep food from spoiling as fast. On the back wall of the kitchen was a door and as she stepped outside she always imagined a kitchen garden planted where herbs and root vegetables grew.

She turned and headed back to the great hall and took the stone steps up to the next level. On this floor, Quinn knew there was a receiving room, a morning room, the lord and lady's solar, and a music room. There was a long hall to the right that led to countless guest rooms and another circular stone staircase that led up to a large round room with windows all around the perimeter.

Every time Quinn entered this room she felt a wave of yearning so strong she had to stop and collect herself. She stepped up to one of the windows, pushed open the wooden shutter and looked out at the beautiful landscape that lay before her: one that she could see with her eyes closed. In the distance, she saw the small village and watched as the smoke from the cottage chimneys curled up into the cool evening air.

She closed the shutter and headed back downstairs where she wandered down another hall that led to the Lord and Lady's bed chambers: two enormous rooms linked by a common dressing area. One room was empty as it had been that first time she'd seen it. The second room, which she believed to be the Lord's chamber, had a massive carved oak bed, a few paintings, a fireplace and a beautiful rug covering most of the stone floor. Quinn always wondered why this room, unlike the rest of the castle, had not been looted. It was her guess that people feared the room because they felt what she felt whenever she stepped over the threshold, a presence, or if she was being fanciful, a ghost.

Whose room was it, for surely someone had called this place home once upon a time? The furnishings were consistent with the early 18th century. Had they been happy, had there been hordes of children and lots of family? And what happened here that it was abandoned, that everyone just up and left leaving it to suffer the years that followed in total isolation?

Quinn liked to make up her own theories. One such theory was that the place was haunted: the ghost she felt was the mistress of the house, murdered by an enemy of her husband, who roamed the halls looking for her lost loves. Or maybe aliens set down, since really aliens weren't limited to the future as Stonehenge was evident, and abducted everyone and the whispered rumor of the abductions kept people away. Or maybe it was something less dramatic. When the castle was in the midst of being built, maybe tragedy struck, the owner and his family were killed, and it left a dark cloud over the site that kept people away. It was really kind of sad because it was beautiful and someone at some time had spent a lot of money and time to build what should have been a home to his family for generations to come. Instead it had become a forgotten memorial to all those lost hopes and dreams.

She always stayed in this room when she visited because she felt closer to the past here and, in truth; she liked the ghost, always felt oddly content in its presence. Once her sleeping bag was setup with her battery operated lantern next to it, she made her way to the privy: had gotten pretty good at using it during her countless stays. She wondered, briefly, what environmental laws she was breaking but then dismissed the thought. She climbed under her sleeping bag and reached for her book but the long hours of traveling finally caught up with her as she shut off the lantern and fell into a deep sleep.

She woke the following morning eager to get started. She brushed her teeth and washed her face with a bottle of water that she had brought with her before changing into a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. She had yet to travel into the village since she never journeyed too far from the castle during her previous stays. This visit, though, was work and she needed to interview the locals.

There were two villages within walking distance and, wishing to avoid another encounter with Derek, Quinn opted to walk to the village where he wasn't staying. The walk was a bit over two miles but the views were positively gorgeous and when she reached the heart of the town she was struck with how quaint it seemed. There were no paved streets and the buildings looked like the thatched cottages that one would see dotting the landscape in Ireland. There were no electric street lights or stop lights and no cars. The center of the village was rather small but there was a grocery store, which she planned on visiting to stock up on nonperishable items.

Across the street from the grocery store was a small pub and already she could hear the voices carrying out into the street. She entered and all heads turned in her direction curious about the newcomer, no doubt. She smiled absently as she made her way to a stool at the bar. A large man, built like a linebacker with a shock of red hair and wearing a white apron, stopped just before her.

"What can I get you, lass?" the giant asked.

"Scrambled eggs, a side of rashers and a cup of coffee please."

"Sure thing. You the one looking at the old place down the road?"

"The castle, yes. I'm Quinn and my organization is researching the history of the place."

"Jack O'Shea. Quinn, nice Irish name that."

A smile curved her lips before she added, "Quinn Shaughnessy."

At that announcement the man pulled his head back as his laughter echoed around the pub.

"I don't suppose you have any stories about the castle?" Quinn inquired.

Jack rubbed his chin before answering, "That I might. Let me call your order in Quinn Shaughnessy and then I'll tell you what I know."

"Great, thanks."

Jack returned shortly later with her breakfast. He set it in front of her and grabbed the coffee pot, pouring them each a mug, before he settled back against the far counter and crossed his thickly muscled arms over his massive chest.

"So, you're looking into that accursed place are you?" he wondered aloud, "Alone?"

"Yes, well, no I did have a partner but upon first inspection of the castle he was completely uninterested." Quinn took a quick bite of her eggs and couldn't stifle the moan of pleasure at their creamy, herb flavor.

"These are delicious," she offered.

"My secret recipe."

She took another bite of eggs giving Jack the opportunity to share with her what he knew.

"I've always been told the place was cursed."

Quinn was surprised to hear that. "Why?"

"The people in this village don't move much so many of the families living here now had ancestors then and the stories passed down say that the owner and his family met with foul play but the odd thing is no one knows how exactly. Whatever happened it was bad enough to have the people of the time fearing the place so much that it was abandoned almost immediately and left, forever, in an incomplete state. In fact, some of our more colorful residents have hinted to rumors of magic and witchcraft surrounding the castle and that's what has kept the place empty and forgotten, turning it into our own haunted castle of sorts."

She could certainly attest to it being forgotten, remembering the first time she had seen it standing majestically on its little patch of the world untouched by time or people. Jack continued on.

"In truth, no one really knows what specifically happened and, what I've always found strange is, no one knows the name of the family that lived there. How could their deaths be rumored about and yet not their names? It's all very creepy and I think it's the inconsistencies, more than anything, that has fueled the rumors about the place being cursed and what has, ultimately, kept people away."

Quinn had been staying in the castle on and off over the past seven years and, besides feeling a deep sadness for an unrealized dream, she hadn't felt anything sinister or dark. She had to agree with Jack, about the oddity of the story, since she knew first hand that there were no documented records at all on the castle. How was that possible? It was incredibly odd that such a physically prominent piece of the area's history was not only left abandoned but actually forgotten, and that no one was interested in studying the secrets the castle held. Regardless of what had happened there, the castle was a link to the past and its stories could help form a more clear understanding of life back then. The lack of interest and neglect was so contrary to her own way of thinking that she found it very hard to understand.

Quinn finished with breakfast, Jack coming over in between waiting on people to chat. He leaned over and whispered to her just as she was preparing to leave.

"There is someone in the village that can tell you more. Her name's Maude and she lives right outside of town in a cottage in the woods." He stopped for a moment and looked a bit nervous before he continued.

"She's an odd one and the things she knows, well, it's a bit creepy but she's harmless, I think."

Quinn covered his large hand with her own.

"Thank you." And then she tilted her head and studied him as a red flush covered his cheeks. Realizing he was blushing, Jack stood up and growled. "Go on, get out of here." But he wasn't able to keep the smile from his lips.

"Thank you. I'll see you tomorrow," Quinn said.

He watched her leave before he removed her dishes and stuck them in the tub behind the bar wondering if he had done right by her when he told her about the crazy old lady in the woods.

Quinn was intrigued by the woman Maude and definitely planned on paying her a visit, but first she needed groceries. The bell jingled as she opened the door and stepped inside. The store was dimly lit but she could see well enough to spot the small selection of vegetables arranged neatly to her left and on her right the refrigerator section of meats, mostly venison and duck. Just in front of her there were aisles of canned and boxed goods. She grabbed a linen bag and walked up and down the aisles filling her sack with tuna and canned chicken, soups and cereal, a few bars of chocolate, water bottles and a six pack of diet coke before she went to the register which was being manned by a short, plump woman with gray hair pulled up into a bun. As Quinn emptied her sack, the woman just stared at her and when Quinn really looked at her, she thought she saw fear. The woman quickly lowered her head and started to ring up the items and, once her groceries were bagged and paid for, Quinn started for the door.

"Thank you."

The woman offered nothing so, chalking up her odd behavior to shyness, Quinn left the shop and started walking through town. She reached the town's edge and spotted the worn path in the underbrush that went deeper into the woods. Suspecting this was the way to Maude's, she followed it. A faint glow up ahead beckoned her forward until the trees magically cleared to reveal a small stone cabin. Wisps of smoke from the chimney were curling up into the bright blue sky. A smile touched her lips.

"Lovely."

Before she could knock, the door opened and there stood an old woman with a face so wrinkled that she could easily pass for over a hundred years old but her eyes, a robin's egg-blue, were sharp and alert. Quinn was just opening her mouth to introduce herself when the woman's greeting left her speechless.

"So you have finally come. I've been waiting." With that she turned and disappeared into the cottage leaving Quinn gaping at the now empty threshold. The thought that she should turn around and walk away popped into her head but she dismissed that and stepped into the cabin. Inside a warm, crackling fire burned brightly in the stone hearth. The floors were wood, but smooth to the touch. Colorful wool braided rugs dotted across the living area. Iron torches, burning fire, were anchored around the room. The walls were lined with book shelves that spilled over with leather bound works. In front of the fireplace sat a long sofa of walnut wood and the warmest brown silk. A tabby cat was curled up on the floor by the fire snoring softly.