Haunted Ground (21 page)

Meg smoothed the coverlet around her mother’s shoulders and lightly kissed her forehead so as not to disturb her sleep.  She was fading fast, reduced to only a few moments of consciousness, which came on her mostly at night when she called for Brendan and begged Meg to put her out of her misery.  Nan Carr was only forty-four, but she looked like a woman twice her age; her sallow skin stretched tightly over the bones of her face; eyes sunken into her skull and glazed over with pain.  Meg had no idea what illness was devouring her mother from within since there was no physician within twenty miles of their village.  The closest city was Lincoln, and there was sure to be a medical man there, but he wouldn’t come so far for someone like her mother.  Physicians were for the powerful and wealthy, not for the likes of them.

Meg covered the chamber pot with a cloth to keep the stench from making her nose burn and eyes water, and left the room, quietly closing the door behind her.  At least Jasper wasn’t in the house.  Meg hated to be around him these days, although he didn’t pay her much mind.  He was too preoccupied with the running of the estate and his search for Brendan.  He didn’t tell her about it, but she knew he’d sent a man to Uncle Caleb’s house to enquire about Brendan’s whereabouts.  Thankfully, Brendan wasn’t there, and Uncle Caleb swore that Brendan never passed that way. 

Meg sighed as she made her way carefully down the stairs so as not to disturb the contents of the pot.  When had a selfish and mischievous boy become a conniving and ruthless man?  Meg knew Jasper had planted the evidence on the bodies of the men; she’d seen him take the prayer book, and the ring had been on his finger when he left the house, but gone once he got back.  She had to admit that Brendan had always been her favorite, but she loved Jasper when he was a boy, and always defended him against their mother who called him “the spawn of the Devil,” if only in jest. 

They’d had a happy family once, but now everything was different.  Their father was dead, possibly murdered; their mother wasting away, Brendan missing, possibly injured or dead, Meg’s own husband gone, and Jasper now the head of the family.  Next week, Jasper and Mary would be wed, and Meg’s position would become even more untenable.  Meg and Mary were friends once, but now Mary would be the lady of the house, and Meg’s position would be precarious as the widowed sister of her husband.  Meg depended on Jasper’s generosity for her family’s survival, and she needed to be on hand to care for their mother.  Mary wouldn’t do it, but she wouldn’t like Meg constantly there, undermining her authority. 

Meg sighed.  Her mother would be gone soon; that was clear enough, and her only chance for any happiness lay in getting married again – and soon.  She was barely twenty-six, and although she’d borne two children, she was still fairly comely with a good figure and a fine house.  But, as head of the family, Jasper would have to approve her choice, which could complicate matters since he wanted full control of the estate.  He’d want Meg to marry a man he could rely on, and dominate, not someone who would stand up to him and speak his own mind.  A man to suit them both would be hard to find.

Meg was so preoccupied with her thoughts that she barely noticed the two men watching her from under a leafy oak at the bottom of the yard.  She emptied the chamber pot into the privy out back and stepped back out into the crisp October morning, gulping air after the noxious interior of the outhouse as two men approached her on foot.  Their faces were obscured by the brims of their hats, but she was sure they weren’t local.  Their clothes, although fine, were travel-stained, and swords hung at their hips, swinging as they walked toward her.  Meg froze, unsure of what to do.  They hadn’t done anything to frighten her, but she felt a shiver of apprehension snake down her spine, pinning her feet to the ground and driving breath from her lungs.  She prided herself on her good instincts, and her instincts were screaming bloody murder.

“Good morrow, mistress,” the older of the two men said, giving her a brief nod and raising his hand to the brim of his hat in a casual greeting.  “Fine day, is it not?” he asked, his eyes never leaving hers.  He had a handsome face despite a faint scar that ran down the length of his cheek from temple to chin, but his eyes were strangely cold, light and narrowed as he cocked his head to the side, his mouth stretching into a humorless smile.

“Yes, it’s pleasantly warm for October,” Meg replied, praying that Jasper would come sauntering into the yard.  If ever there was a time she’d be happy to see him, it would be now.  “Is there something you wanted, gentlemen?”

“A cool drink would be most welcome,” the older man said, still smiling.  “Allow me to introduce myself.  My name is Edward Sexby, and this is Will Barrett, an associate and brother-in-arms.  We have some business with your brother.  Would we find him at home, mistress?”

So, they were looking for Jasper.  Meg allowed herself to exhale and wiped her sweating brow with the back of her hand.  “I’m afraid you’ve missed him, sir.”

She turned toward the house, dismayed to see them follow her. 

“Perhaps we can wait for him?”

“I’m afraid he might be out all day.  He has business on the estate.  Maybe you can call around suppertime.  I’d be happy to give Jasper a message,” she offered, hoping they would just leave.  The younger man hadn’t said a word, but there was something in his expression that scared the wits out of her, and she didn’t scare easily.

“Jasper?” Sexby asked. 

“Yes, my brother Jasper.  Mayhap you have the wrong house.”  Meg stopped before going into the house, reluctant to let them in, but Sexby was already pushing the door open and maneuvering his way inside.   Meg was backed up against the table as the younger man positioned himself by the door, blocking her escape.

“It’s your brother Brendan we are looking for.  Brendan Carr.”  Sexby’s eyes were narrowed as he watched Meg.  She suspected that any lie she told would be recognized immediately.

“Brendan is not here, Mr. Sexby.  He left weeks ago and we haven’t seen him since.”  Meg inched backward, her hips pressing against the wooden table as Sexby advanced on her. 

“And where would he have gone, mistress?”

“I don’t know.”  Meg was taken completely by surprise when Sexby’s gloved hand slapped her across her face with enough force to rattle her teeth. 

“Shall we try this again?  Where’s Brendan Carr, mistress?”

“I dddon’t know,” Meg replied, stammering with fear.  “I truly don’t know.  Jasper doesn’t know either.  He’s been searching for him this whole while.”  Sexby hit her again and this time she fell, her head just missing the corner of the table.  Meg rolled into a ball, covering her head with her hands, but Will Barrett dragged her to her feet and drove a fist into her stomach. 

“Speak, woman,” he growled. 

Meg briefly thanked the good Lord that her boys were nowhere near the house.  At least they would be spared.  Whatever these men wanted, they meant to have it, and they would probably kill her to get it.  She only hoped Jasper would take care of her children, being their nearest male relative. 

“I don’t know,” she cried again.  “I don’t know.  Please, don’t hurt me,” she begged as she covered her face in anticipation of another blow.  She instinctively felt Barrett get closer and raise his hand, but Sexby spoke before Barrett hit her again.

“She doesn’t know, Will,” he said, “leave her be.  Perhaps we’ll have better luck with Jasper.”

Meg nearly jumped out of her skin as Sexby took off his glove and brushed a strand of hair from Meg’s face, carefully tucking it back into her cap.  He brushed his fingers across her bruised cheek, his eyes suddenly warm and full of humor.  “How about that cool drink now?  And something to eat as well.  Bread and cheese will do, but if you have something heartier, it’d be most welcome.” 

The men settled themselves at the table, looking for all the world like welcome guests.  Meg didn’t even try to pour the ale since she knew she’d spill it all over the table with her shaking hands.  She just set the pitcher on the table and pushed two cups toward the men, before getting a fresh loaf of bread and a hunk of cheese that she’d been saving for the midday meal for her and the boys.  Sexby’s eyes traveled to a sausage that was hanging above the hearth.  “That, too.”

Meg reached for the sausage and wished she could use it to whack Sexby over the head, but a sausage was no weapon against two men with swords and fists.  She just pushed it toward them and let them cut it up with their daggers.  They ate slowly, enjoying their meal as if they were in a tavern and not in the home of a woman they’d just threatened and beaten. 

Meg knew she should keep her mouth shut, but she didn’t think they’d hit her again, and she needed to know.  “What do you want with Brendan?” she asked carefully, taking a step back just in case.  Sexby’s amused expression wasn’t lost on her.  He enjoyed making people cower, that was clear, and he could sense her fear like a dog. 

“Your brother is to be taken back to Scotland and tried for desertion.  You do know he deserted, do you not?” Sexby asked conversationally, his hand playing with the dagger he’d used to cut the sausage.  He drove it into the wooden table, gratified by Meg’s shock.  “Deserters are hanged.”

Meg felt suddenly very cold despite the warmth of the hearth glowing behind her.  She didn’t know what to say or do, so she backed into a corner and sat on a low stool she’d used for nursing when her boys were small.  She wanted to disappear into the stone walls and become invisible to these men, but all she could do was fold her hands in her lap and stare at the floor, praying that they would just leave. 

Meg nearly jumped out of her skin as the door burst open, letting in a gust of cool air.  The wind had picked up, and the house was momentarily filled with the smell of autumn which dispelled the revolting smell of the two men who likely hadn’t bathed in weeks.  Jasper stood in the doorway, surveying the scene.  He had a dagger at his belt, but it would do little good against two armed men; a fact that he perceived very quickly. 

Sexby and Barrett rose to their feet, the food forgotten.  “You better step outside, mistress,” Sexby said to Meg without turning around, “for your own safety.”  Meg bolted from her spot in the corner and darted outside.  She wanted to run home as fast as her feet would carry her and make sure that her children were safe, but she had to stay close to make sure Jasper was all right after the men were done questioning him.  She was sure that Jasper didn’t know where Brendan was, but that didn’t mean the men would believe him. 

Meg slid to the ground beneath the oak tree and wrapped her arms around her knees, resting her forehead against them.  She was shaking with fear
—
for herself, Jasper, but mostly Brendan.  They wanted him dead.  “Oh, Brendan,” she whispered, “what have you done?”

It seemed like an hour, but it was no more than ten minutes later that Sexby and Barrett walked out of the house, their hats on their heads and their swords sheathed and on their belts.  They tipped their hats to Meg and wished her a good day as if she were a lady at court and not a quivering mess with a tear-stained face and wild hair, crouching beneath a tree.  Meg finally willed herself to get up once the sound of hoofbeats died away, and shuffled on shaking legs toward the house.  Jasper was calmly sitting at the table, a piece of sausage speared on his dagger and a cup of ale in his hand.  He smiled indulgently at Meg and took a deep pull of his ale before pouring her a cup.

“You look like you need this,” he said, studying her bruised face.  “Did they hurt you?”

Meg just shook her head, amazed at Jasper’s calm.  He didn’t have a scratch on him.  “What did you tell them?”

“The truth.  I have no idea where Brendan is.”  Jasper took a bite of the sausage and chewed thoughtfully, his eyes still on Meg. 

“So, how is it that they didn’t hurt you?” asked Meg suspiciously. 

“Oh, I told them that I’m getting married next week and need to look my best.”  He chuckled at his own joke and tore off a chunk of bread.  Meg suddenly felt her knees go weak.  If the men simply left Jasper in peace, that could mean only one of two things: he either told them where to find Brendan, or he made some kind of deal with them.

The Present

I woke up to find the sky a pale blue, washed clean by yesterday’s rain.  The breeze blowing through the open window was fresh and cool, the sun just barely above the horizon, spreading a golden glow above the tree tops and tinting the walls of my bedroom a peachy pink.  I expected to feel depressed, frightened, and angry after yesterday’s ordeal, but what I actually felt was joy.  I was almost giddy with it.  I had gotten very lucky that Aidan came when he did, and I wasn’t about to allow Colin to make me feel like a victim.  What he actually made me feel was a hunger for life.  Yesterday’s incident reminded me how life could turn on a dime, and I didn’t intend to spend another minute wallowing in self-pity.  I wanted to live every day to the fullest, and I would start with today, but first, I wanted to take a nice, hot bath to wash away any trace of what happened from my body.  I turned on the taps and rummaged around for my iPod.

The water was almost scalding, the delicious scent of lavender bath salts drifting up in soothing steam as I turned on my favorite playlist and closed my eyes.  I felt as if I were floating, the water gently lapping at my breasts and the heat drawing out every bit of tension from my body.  Images of Aidan floated in front of my eyes as my hand unwittingly strayed between my legs, my body suddenly no longer relaxed, but coursing with desire.  Yesterday’s kiss had awoken something which I had been suppressing for a long time, and I was suddenly vibrating with desire, desperate for it to be fulfilled. 

My eyes flew open in alarm as something softly touched my arm.  Aidan was standing above me, desperately trying not to let his eyes stray from my face.  Oh, God, how long had he been there?  I thought I’d locked the door, but here he was, seeing me in all my soapy glory.   I pulled the earbuds from my ears and smiled guiltily.

“You didn’t answer, so I got worried,” he explained, his gaze drifting over my body.  “I’ll just go now.” 

He sounded strangled, and I could see my own desire reflected in his eyes.  I didn’t say anything, just rose to my feet in the tub.  My skin glowed from the heat and droplets of water slid between my breasts and down my thighs, but I didn’t bother to reach for a towel.  I smiled at Aidan as I stepped from the tub and stood a few inches away from him, my face flushed with heat.  Aidan was transfixed, his eyes asking me for confirmation that this was what I wanted.  I couldn’t blame him after what happened yesterday.  He needed to be sure, so I pressed my body against his and raised my face to receive his kiss.  That was all the prompting he needed as he scooped me up and carried me back into the bedroom.  Erotic scenes of slow seduction that played out in my mind before were pushed out by a need so strong, that I couldn’t bear to wait another second.  I grabbed for his belt buckle, but Aidan playfully pushed away my urgent hands.  “Not yet,” he whispered, “not yet,” as he pushed me onto the bed and pulled off his shirt.

I was momentarily shocked by the bruises to his ribs and stomach, but Aidan didn’t seem bothered.  “It’s nothing,” he whispered as he kissed me, leaving me breathless with desire. 

“Close your eyes and let me love you,” he asked, and I did, giving myself up to him with total abandon.  As Aidan’s hands and lips explored every inch of me the words of an old-fashioned vow sprang to mind, “With my body I thee worship,” and worship me he did.  If I had any doubts about his feelings for me, all my uncertainty fled as he put his feelings into kisses and caresses.  I hardly noticed as he pulled me to the edge of the bed and pushed my thighs apart, getting on his knees in front of me and paying homage to that most womanly part of me.  Wave after wave of unbearable pleasure flowed over me, the orgasm leaving me shattered and utterly reborn in equal parts.  I felt like molten gold, fluid and shimmering as I finally descended back to earth. 

When I reached for him this time, Aidan didn’t stop me, and I freely gave as much as I’d received, finally guiding him into my body and holding him there as the ancient rhythm of love overtook us, leaving us joined body and soul, and utterly fulfilled as Aidan gave me a kiss of unbearable tenderness and rested his head on my shoulder as his breathing finally returned to normal.

Now that the moment had passed, I was suddenly embarrassed by my wantonness.  I’d never done anything like this before.  All my previous sexual experiences had been initiated by the men, and I generally wanted to date for a while before letting things get that far.  This was completely out of character for me, but Aidan didn’t know that, and might think that I was some slut who threw herself at every guy she found attractive.  I averted my gaze from him, but he gently turned my face back to meet his eyes.

“Don’t turn away, mo gradh.”  I had no idea what that meant, but judging from his expression, I knew it was a declaration of love, or at least intense desire.  He rolled onto his back and pulled me to him, his lips brushing my temple in a butterfly kiss. I was torn between unbearable joy and uncertainty, and had no idea how to express to Aidan what I was feeling, but he did it for me, putting my mind at rest.

“I can’t remember the last time I’ve been this happy,” he mused.  “Funny how sometimes we don’t even realize how miserable and lonely we are until someone reminds us what it feels like to love.”  Aidan lowered his head and kissed me again.  He looked so peaceful and sated that I just wrapped my arms around him and pulled him down on top of me, kissing him with all my heart.  I wasn’t ready to say the words, but I wanted him to know how I felt.  Aidan slid his tongue into my mouth as I felt his body responding to my advances, and I gasped with pleasure and surprise as he slid into me again, moving slowly and deliberately this time until I was floating on a cloud of sensation, my heart humming with the knowledge that it had found a home.

I was abruptly brought back to earth by the opening and closing of the front door, and the sound of footsteps on the tile floor of the kitchen.  It was the equivalent of a bucketful of cold water being poured over me just as I got warm basking in the sun. 

“Oh, God, it’s Dot,” Aidan said as he tried to suppress a giggle.  “Can you just imagine her face if she finds us like this?”

I could, and I could also imagine how well-informed the entire village would be within a quarter of an hour.  I wasn’t ready to share my newfound happiness with anyone, least of all Mildred Higgins of the Gossip Shop, so I shoved Aidan out of bed and grabbed for my dressing gown. 

“You certainly don’t look like someone suffering from bruising and a concussion,” he observed as he pulled on his T-shirt, covering up the ugly purple welts on his torso.  What did I look like?

I sat up and studied my reflection in the mirror above the dresser.  My hair was all mussed, my lips swollen from bruising and Aidan’s kisses, and a few love bites bloomed on my neck.  But what really gave me away was the blissed-out expression on my face.  I looked like a woman who’d been properly…  I couldn’t even think the word to myself without wanting to giggle.   

“Lexi, are you up?” Dot called as I heard her walking up the stairs.  “I came to check up on you.  I hope you don’t mind; I let myself in with the spare key.”

Aidan dashed out the door before Dot had a chance to see him in my bedroom, and I pulled the blanket up to my chin in the hope that Dot wouldn’t realize that I was naked beneath the dressing gown.  She poked her head in the door and gave me a bright smile. 

“Are you feeling any better, dear?  You certainly look much improved.”  She gave me a knowing look as Aidan appeared in the hallway, looking for all the world as if he had a peaceful night in his sleeping bag. 

“She looks well,” he announced with a wicked grin, “wouldn’t you say, Dot?  I took good care of her.”

“No doubt you did, you scoundrel,” she replied with a smile.  “Away with you.  I’ll look after her.”

“I don’t need any looking after,” I tried to interject, but no one was actually listening to me.  “I’m perfectly well.”

“Perfectly well, she says,” Dot grumbled as she retreated. “Back into bed with you,” she ordered as I made to sit up.  “Dr. Delaney said a few days, did he not?”

I lay back on the pillows and allowed myself to enjoy the afterglow of my interlude with Aidan.  Dot was here for now, so I might as well just let her take care of me.  I had to admit that I felt a little lightheaded, whether from the concussion or from the treatment I just received at Aidan’s hands.  I tried to suppress a silly grin as Dot appeared again, carrying a breakfast tray.

“Where’s Aidan?” I asked, wishing my contractor was still my nurse. 

“Sent him packing, I have.  You should have called me last night and I would have been here to look after you.  This is no place for the likes of him.”  I didn’t bother to ask what the likes of him were and just obediently accepted the cup of steaming tea. 

“The whole village is buzzing,” Dot informed me as I took a bite of toast.  “To think that Colin would be capable of such a thing.  And to pull a knife on Aiden… And he always seemed like such a quiet lad.”  She shook her head in confusion and disgust as she watched me.  It reminded me of all those perplexed people who found out that their quiet next-door neighbor actually kept sex slaves in his basement for years and no one ever suspected a thing.  Strange how people only saw what they wanted to see.

“Mildred was shocked that Aidan would volunteer to look after you,” Dot continued, “it’s not exactly appropriate under the circumstances.  Is it?”

“Oh?  What circumstances are those?” I asked, not really caring to know.

“Well, Colin works for Aidan; so for all intents and purposes, it was all Aidan’s fault.  Should have known better.  I suppose he wants to get on your good side so his business doesn’t suffer.”

“It wasn’t Aidan’s fault,” I retorted. 

“And him staying with you last night… there’ll be talk.”  Dot said that with such gravity that I nearly burst out laughing.  She probably had the scarlet letter all ready to stitch to my bodice, although technically, I wasn’t an adulteress.  Maybe Dot had a ‘T’ handy for “Tart.” 

Aidan poked his head through the door, his smile full of apology.

“Away with you, I said,” Dot commanded, sounding like a general about to engage in battle.

“I’m going, I’m going,” Aidan replied with a laugh.  “Sorry about the new regime, Lex,” he quipped, giving Dot a pointed look.  “It was a hostile takeover.  I’ll be back later to smooth any ruffled feathers.”

“Looks like you surrendered without a fight,” I countered, giving him a warm smile and already counting the moments until I would see him again.

“I know when I’m beaten.”  With that, he blew me a kiss, since Dot was manning the door like a fire-breathing dragon, and left.  I had to admit that Dot’s concern was kind of endearing.  She appeared to be one of those women who wasn’t happy unless she was taking care of someone, and at the moment, I was that someone.  It was kind of nice to have someone fussing over me, especially since my mother was thousands of miles away and couldn’t be there to baby me. 

Spending the day with Dot reminded me of being sick as a child.  I got the gold star treatment.  Dot popped in every so often to make sure I was all right and bring numerous cups of tea, food, and the latest gossip from the village, but she didn’t hover over me and left me to my own thoughts, which kept straying to the room in the cellar.  Colin had interrupted my exploration, and I longed to go back and have another look at the coffin.  I was fascinated by it, and desperate to find any clue that might help me figure out what happened to the mysterious Brendan Carr.  The thing was that I didn’t want to share my secret with Dot.  I didn’t want anyone in the village to know about the room, not because I wanted to keep the history of the place to myself, but because stories of skeletons in the proverbial closet could scare away future custom; although, on the other hand, they could also increase it.  For every person who was put off by something spooky, there were ten more who’d welcome the opportunity to stay in my haunted mansion.  In either case, I’d wait till Aidan came back.  I didn’t fancy going down there by myself, especially after what happened yesterday.  At the very least, it would be nice to have someone hold the flashlight.