The Ghost Who Loved Me (28 page)

Yorkshire, England

March 4th, 1848

Elizabeth arrived to the Dowager’s residence with little Jamie dozing in her arms, handing off her six month-old son to his doting great grandmother the minute they entered her house. Lady Eldora was tearful as she remarked on how much Jamie resembled her own son Robert.

Elizabeth made no comment, knowing Lady Eldora knew very well he didn’t. It was one of those unspoken rules in the family. They didn’t ask who fathered her son and she would never tell of it. She put Jamie down for a nap and joined her grandmother for tea in the salon, tired from the long trip.

“We have guests joining us for dinner, Elizabeth.” Eldora smiled apologetically at her granddaughter’s displeased expression as the maid served them tea. “As you know, Daniel has been doing our family history all of last year. He found a distant cousin of ours who is also a Carlisle by marriage. Isn’t that tremendous news? He and Mr. Percy are in Scotland, chasing ghosts in old castles, of all dreadful things. He just wrote to say he finished the Westerleigh history but found some serious discrepancies in his travels. He said he will speak with you more about it when they arrive next week.”

“Half of the nobility in Europe are related in some way or another, Gran,” Elizabeth pointed out with an indulgent smile. “So this is some distant cousin of mine and Edward’s?”

Eldora nodded and beamed brightly. “Lord Cairnmore has been corresponding with me for many months. He is as fascinated as I am with studying ancestry. I saw no harm in inviting the man and his young daughter here. They live in Scotland, very near Edinburg. He is also a Scottish peer and a widower going on five years, my dear. You have much in common. He lost his wife after his daughter was born. So very sad. I simply had to meet Lord Cairnmore. He says he has something of great excitement to show me. Apparently we share an ancestor in common whose portrait hangs upon the wall of his gallery at Cairnmore Castle. He brings it here to show me.”

“Gran, you are not matchmaking, are you?” Elizabeth sipped her tea and eyed her grandmother reprovingly. “I didn’t come to Yorkshire to seek a suitor.”

“As if you would ever find one in Wales, my dear.” Her grandmother sniffed in disapproval. “You are quite young yet, Elizabeth. You cannot hide yourself away at Westerleigh for the rest of your life. Edward is gone well over a year now. You are free to live your life. I admit the thought did cross my mind after writing to the Earl of Cairnmore these many months. I find him quite interesting. And I did invite him knowing you would be here. The rest is up to you, my dear. I only ask you be polite. He is our cousin, though I do forget how many times removed. I suppose it doesn’t matter. Family is family, is it not?”

Elizabeth eyed her sternly. “While you are on the subject of family, when will you and Mama mend your fences? George and Marian tire of being in the middle. Can you not just try to get along now that you don’t have to? That alone should be reason enough. Papa would roll over in his grave to know how you both go at one another.”

Lady Eldora scowled into her tea. “Margot started it! It is she who owes me the apology!”

“She said the very same thing when I stopped over to visit her in London,” Elizabeth commented dryly. “Can you not just reach out to her and put all aside? You are getting no younger, Gran. Mama is dreadfully unhappy, even if she has many new friends in London. It is her quarrel with you that she feels is what is troubling her most. She is as proud as you and finds it hard to admit when she is wrong. She expressed regret of you being at odds.”

“She said that?” Eldora sipped her tea thoughtfully. “Unhappy you say? Well, maybe I’ll send her a note and see how she is getting on in London.”

Elizabeth smirked into her own cup, pleased she found a way to get them both talking. She went to lie down before dinner, dreading having to contend with the Dowager’s guests that evening. She hadn’t slept well of late. She had an odd habit of getting up in the night and checking on her baby, marveling over him while he slept.

Elizabeth stared at her image in the mirror above the vanity critically, pulling at the dark rings she imagined under her eyes, feeling grossly unattractive even knowing she looked no different than before.

Perhaps her grandmother was right?

Maybe she needed to spend more time in the city and reacquaint herself with her former friends. The thought of being away from Westerleigh depressed her, feeling James’ absent in every room, though certain he lingered on in some way though she was given no sign of it.

Elizabeth made a face at her image, knowing James would mock her reclusive nature, reminding her of the promise she made him to live her life and not squander it when he was gone.

Tears sparkled in her eyes to think of him once more, pushing her sadness away when her new maid named Lottie arrived to help her dress for the evening.

Elizabeth was pleased when Lottie finished with her hair, curling her it into fashionable ringlets she pinned into an elaborate waterfall down her back. The gown was new, a recent purchase made in London at her favorite dressmaker’s shop.

It was as deep a blue as her eyes, cut fashionably tight at the bodice with a flaring skirt supported by hooped crinolines underneath. Such was the rage, she was told.

Elizabeth went down to the dining room and found it empty. Wallace, her grandmother’s butler, informed her Lady Eldora and her newly-arrived guests were in the salon.

She walked to the room and stepped inside, confronted with the back of both her grandmother and a very tall man dressed in a dark evening suit. A dark-haired young girl peeped out from around his legs and smiled. She was missing both of her front teeth. They both turned around at once hearing her arrive.

Elizabeth felt lightheaded. The world began to swim, staring at the man before her that could have easily been James’ twin. She felt flushed and struggled to breathe, not hearing a word either said in her racing mind.

Her eyes widened even more to see the large portrait of Lenore on an easel in front of them. She felt herself fainting just as she was caught in a pair of very strong arms and blackness descended upon her.

~ ~ ~

“What has happened?” Elizabeth opened her eyes and stared around her, lying on the settee in the salon. “Oh dear me, I’ve fainted.”

The little girl grinned toothlessly from over the back of the settee. “You swooned dead away, my lady.”

“I didn’t swoon,” Elizabeth protested softly and sat up quickly. “I never swoon.”

“Good,” the little girl said with another dimpled grin. “My father says women only swoon to get attention from men so they look defenseless.”

Elizabeth felt mildly embarrassed to see the little girl’s father standing across the room. He had a look of concern in his unsettling golden eyes as they met hers. She was grateful he didn’t mock her, feeling foolish as her grandmother arrived too late with the smelling salts to remedy the situation.

“I’m truly fine, Gran.” Elizabeth smiled despite her mortification before rising from the settee. “It was all of the travel, I fear. I failed to take luncheon when we got off of the train.”

Her eyes clung to the portrait, stepping towards it with trepidation and then staring at it in fascination.

“You look just like her,” the man at her side remarked quietly, his pale golden eyes tracing her face. He spoke in a deep rich voice, with only a hint of a soft Scottish brogue. “It’s a remarkable resemblance you share with her, Lady Westerleigh.”

“Please, you must call me Elizabeth,” she insisted, lost in the warm amber gaze, startled to feel her growing attraction for a man she only just met. It was disconcerting the way he stared at her, as if they met before when they hadn’t.

Her eyes took in his appearance out of the corner of her eye. He was extremely tall, standing at well over six feet in height. His finely-chiseled features were handsome and young.

His age was no more than thirty. His raven hair was kept neatly short, his arresting face sporting a well-trimmed goatee. His smile was ready and his deep golden eyes held a trace of humor in them she found charming. His clothing was modern and well-tailored.  He could have been the same man. The only differences between them were the eyes.  

“And you must call me Gavin,” he insisted warmly with a melting smile that tore at her heart, reminding her of James again only too painfully. “That rude little monkey you just met is my daughter Claire. I apologize if she has offended you. She often speaks before she thinks.”

“I thought she was only repeating what you said, Gavin,” Elizabeth pointed out with a flirtatious smile that came out of nowhere. “You truly believe women only swoon just to get a man’s attention? To make themselves appear defenseless, you say?”

Gavin smiled down at her, his amber eyes holding a hint of teasing. “All but one, dear lady. I see nothing defenseless about you.”

Elizabeth was immediately charmed into silence. She was grateful when Wallace announced dinner. She retreated to the dining room as Gavin escorted Claire. Her grandmother was eyeing her knowingly from the head of the table, seemingly pleased.

Gavin was quite an entertaining dinner guest. He had them all laughing as he spoke of his home in Scotland and the people who lived on his estate. He spoke of his home with such reverence Elizabeth was touched by his words. He told them of how he discovered the portrait was a Carlisle relation they shared in common by accident.

A matron once acquainted with Lady Margot years before from Yorkshire visited Gavin’s mother. She noted the startling resemblance to Lady Elizabeth Surrey in the portrait.

Daniel did the rest for them, researching all known records and tracing Gavin Campbell to Edinburg, learning through that branch of the family that Miss Lenore Hampton married the third Duke of Westerleigh, James Carlisle, in 1546.

They had five children; three sons and two daughters. One of the older sons wound up in Scotland fighting for Mary Stuart years later. And that was where Gavin’s branch first began.

Elizabeth was short of breath upon listening to the tale, unable to shake the feeling that something was very wrong here. The history she knew to be true was that James Carlisle died in 1546.

But here this man sat before her, telling them that his great grandfather many times back was James and Lenore’s oldest son Michael Carlisle. He won an earldom in his tireless efforts to put Mary Stuart on the English throne in 1567, shortly after she was forced to abdicate and was arrested by her cousin Queen Elizabeth I.

A female Carlisle descendant married their Surrey relation a century later. And here they all were dining together while she struggled to accept the fact that something drastically changed the night they helped James escape Isabelle’s spell.

Could it possibly be true?

Was her premonitory dream of James riding back to Hampton Court after he left her in the clearing even possible? She forced back the tears of happiness to know he got another chance at life, even if he couldn’t remain with her in the present.

“Elizabeth? Did you hear what Lord Cairnmore has asked you? He asks if he may call upon you tomorrow to ride the grounds of Camden Downs.” Her grandmother frowned at her distraction. She inclined her head meaningfully in Gavin Campbell’s direction, a knowing smile curving her lips.

Elizabeth met those startling amber eyes, an answer already poised at her lips and a burning hope in her heart. “Of course, I’d be delighted to take Gavin to tour the grounds. Should I send a note to the headmistress of the school to let her know of our intentions?”

Her grandmother smiled widely. “You need not bother, my dear. I have assumed that position. I can assure you that you won’t disrupt the classroom activities in the least.”

Elizabeth stared at her in disbelief. “You are the headmistress at Camden Downs School for Ladies? When did this come about, Gran?”

The old woman drew herself up proudly. “Since the board approached me and asked me to head the school, my dear. I find it quite stimulating to teach young women such necessary skills as comportment and etiquette. And it does not hurt the school having me as its figurehead. Times have indeed changed, Elizabeth. We must change with them.”

“Yes, it seems they have,” Elizabeth said and eyed her grandmother with something akin to admiration.

“Take Lord Cairnmore, for instance,” The wily Dowager went on with an encouraging smile. “Before he inherited his father’s estate and title, he was already a renowned architect of some acclaim, my dear. He has designed several buildings in downtown Edinburg. You must see some of his sketches. He also realizes the value and importance of an honest day’s work.”

“Your grandmother is far too kind to me,” Gavin interjected with a shake of his dark head, his handsome face flushed under her praise. “I only did what was necessary. Though I do admit, the challenges I faced when my father died were enormous. Cairnmore was in a sad state of disrepair. The cost of the renovations alone made it necessary I continue with my work and I do enjoy it.”

Elizabeth nodded politely, starting to feel more admiration for Gavin Campbell the more she learned about him. He was neither prideful nor resistant to the changes facing a man of his class. Instead of becoming indolent and remaining affixed in the past, he used his own skills to keep his estate flourishing.