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Authors: Karolyn Cairns

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BOOK: The Ghost Who Loved Me
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Percy and Daniel separated and started investigating the shelves, finding many books and glass vials of various substances. The men avoided looking at what they saw around them, determined to finish this quickly.

Elizabeth was too shocked to do more than gape around her, her fear palpable as she stood rooted to the spot, looking around with wide incredulous eyes. She swallowed hard to see some of the human skulls were tiny, likely children.  She shook, her terror mounting in waves of incoherent disbelief.

Several animal’s skeletal remains decorated a wall where sat a large iron chair with tall candelabra’s seen next to it with partial candles still present. It appeared a throne of sorts, to her nearly hysterical gaze.

“Here it is! I’ve found something,” Percy said from across the room, holding up a dusty old handwritten book. “This looks to be a book of spells. It’s in Old Welsh but Daniel can translate it. We take all of it, I don’t relish coming back down here.” Daniel and Percy then began dumping all of the books into a satchel.

Elizabeth was still in shock, riveted upon the throne. She walked near it, knowing it played some significance to its former owner. Isabelle sat there while her followers tortured and killed children.

She shuddered as she stood before it, her hand covering her mouth to keep from screaming to see a necklace made out of tiny human teeth dangling from the arm of the chair.

She backed away slowly, feeling bile rising in the back of her throat. Her boot caught on an upraised stone on the floor, causing her to trip. She went down hard, grunting in pain as she hit her elbow smartly on the stone floor. Daniel was at her side in seconds, helping her up. She stared down at the floor where the loose stone was seen. An opening was seen underneath it.

Percy approached and pried up the stone. He peered into the hole, handing the lantern off to Daniel as he reached inside. He pulled out another large book. Elizabeth saw lights before her eyes, feeling queasy to see it was bound in human skin.

“Your Ladyship, come we must go and quickly,” Daniel advised solemnly as Percy stuffed the book into the satchel. “I have a really bad feeling about this.”

“I don’t like it as well,” Percy whispered, his eyes going to the lantern where the flame began to flicker strangely.

They all smelled it at once, coughing from the strong odor of perfume suddenly emanating within the room. A large shadow suddenly formed on one of the walls, making all three moved backward in fright.

Percy dropped his lantern. The oil and flames covered the stones. They watched as the shadow grew larger before their terrified gazes. They all saw the specter of the woman appear as if in slow motion, her long white blonde hair matted and hanging to her skeletal hips in the tattered robe.

Her face was sunken in, her nose merely a socket. Her fleshless mouth opened and an evil hiss escaped.

“Your Ladyship, when I tell you to run, you must run,” Daniel whispered harshly to her under his breath, never taking his eyes off the demon as he removed a bag of rock salt from his pocket. “You will go first, Percy will follow, and I will test this salt to see if it works.”Elizabeth nodded, her eyes wide with terror, watching the demon as it moved towards them quickly, screeching in a wail that made their ears ring. “Run! Now!”

Elizabeth turned and bolted out of the chamber, Percy fast on her heels, keeping to the left of the passage openings. Daniel threw down the rock salt at the opening of the room’s doorway just as the shadow leapt at him.

The demon’s face was ravaged and fierce, with maggots and spiders crawling in and out of her nose socket and mouth. She screeched loudly, an awful sound that echoed within the chamber. Those deadened blue eyes met his in anger as the rock salt prevented her from crossing the threshold. She whispered something to him, her fetid breath making him gag. Daniel wasted little time in running after the others.

The specter smiled as she looked down and saw the blood droplets on the stones at her skeletal feet. She reached a bony manacled hand down to swipe at it, bringing it to her fleshless lips, sighing in pleasure at the heady taste of blood after so many centuries.

~ ~ ~

Elizabeth had a stitch in her side but kept running, Percy and Daniel right behind her. She heard the loud screeching below and knew who occupied that room.

It was Isabelle.

She shuddered to think such evil was so close at hand, knowing James had no idea his wife haunted the passageways.

The room below was where Isabelle and her followers went to worship, her church of sorts. The fact they trespassed upon it wasn’t lost upon Elizabeth, relieved the demon had no power anywhere else in the castle.

They slowed as they passed through the last passage, following the hay left upon the floor of the tunnel left by Daniel. The screeching became even fainter as they arrived back at the wine cellar. James was waiting for them, his expression filled with relief to see them all back unharmed.

“It was her! It was Isabelle!” Elizabeth told him in a rush as the two men dusted themselves off. “She has a room below. We found many books there, some hidden in the floor, before she arrived.”

“Did she say anything to you?” James stared at Elizabeth grimly.

“No, but she seemed intent upon following us. Daniel kept her there with rock salt.”

“Rock salt?” James frowned and shook his head. “It doesn’t work long enough. That is only temporary. Gunpowder works much better. The only reason why you got out of there was because she let you escape.”

Elizabeth shook her head and gestured to Daniel. “Tell him it worked! She couldn’t cross the threshold. Tell him what you saw!”

Daniel looked around warily, looking for James. “I threw it down and she stopped just short of the salt. I can’t say it worked. I thought I heard her whisper something to me.”

“What did she say to you?” Elizabeth stared at him intently.

Daniel swallowed hard. “She said ‘you will all die before I let him go’.”

James said nothing, leaving them without a word. Elizabeth dusted herself off, rubbing her smarting elbow where the skin was scraped off and blood smeared her skin. She invited both men to the library to study their finds, promising luncheon and refreshments.

They all left the cellars quickly after that, not seeing the apparition that arrived just short of the cellars from the tunnels below. She tried to follow but was held in check. She looked down to see the gunpowder in a thin line put down there curiously. Blue eyes filled with smug satisfaction before the figure disappeared back down the passage.

Chapter Sixteen

 

Percy and Daniel poured over the books for hours, jotting down notes and referencing all of the other writings. Elizabeth had little stomach for it after their horrifying discovery. Now she understood why Edward’s ancestor blocked off the passages.

Her grandson discovered the room below.

Edward’s descendant feared it would be found out that their grandmother was a follower of witchcraft. It was the late 1500’s by then, when such things were causing mass hysteria throughout England and America.

Elizabeth stared at the book in front of her on the table. They discovered it was Lady Isabelle’s diary. Percy decided it was not their place to read it, but hers. They both worked on translating the other books trying to unravel her spells.

“What are you afraid of?” James spoke at her back, eyeing the book before her thoughtfully. “You already know the worst of it. You saw what she did down there. I would know everything.”

“You heard what she said to Daniel,” Elizabeth whispered under her breath, not wanting to interrupt the two men studying diligently at the next table. “What if we aid her by doing this? I also wonder if she allowed us to get away just to help her cause.”

James nodded thoughtfully. “She only finds that after three hundred years, she needs the living to help her unlock her own disastrous spell. I don’t think you need to worry, Elizabeth. If she meant to harm you, she would have. You three would have never made it back. I put down gunpowder at the opening. She is going nowhere until we figure all out.”

Elizabeth released a trembling breath. “Isabelle let us take those things. It’s as if she is manipulating us for a purpose.”

James indicated the book before her. “Isabelle couldn’t have wanted you to find that or she wouldn’t have hid it in the floor before she died. Somewhere in it you will find the truth. You must read it, Elizabeth, for I cannot touch it.”

She nodded and cringed to touch to soft, leathery-feeling book, opening it to the first entry. It was dated September 21, 1545.

Today is my wedding day. I dread it, and the one that Henry chose for me. James is neither soft, nor malleable, and seems to see through my every guise. I have tried to play the part but I find it difficult to be in his presence overmuch.

I long for my lover who was sent to fight in Italy while I face this newest dilemma on my own. Father and the others were executed just last week. I pray all that I have done has died with them.

None suspect me but this marriage only reminds me that what I wanted most is now to be denied. My spells didn’t work. I knew as soon as I found the doll in Katherine’s bed. And Henry’s children yet live. I discovered why and rage that I can’t remain to deal with the cause. She lives among the household, the one who stands in my way. All that I do, she manages to thwart me. She is stronger than me. My magic was useless against hers. She protects them all. I will discover who she is before I leave here. I waited for her to come forward when Father was accused. She is no better than I. She let them all die.

Elizabeth read it aloud, seeing James’ face darken to hear Isabelle’s own words proclaiming her guilt, but not a bit of remorse to have blamed all upon her father and two other innocent individuals.

“Who does Isabelle refer to here?” Elizabeth eyed him closely. “She says there was another woman living in the queen’s household that undid all of her spells. Those dolls weren’t there to harm Henry’s heirs, but to protect them from Isabelle.”

“It could have been any of Katherine’s ladies,” James remarked and shook his head in confusion. “Isabelle was sent from court just a few days following our wedding. I went on to Italy for the next six months, returning only twice to Westerleigh, before going to the north to quell the uprisings there. It is doubtful Isabelle learned who it was before she left. Thank God for whoever stopped her, or history might have been far different than we know it.”

  Elizabeth read on, cringing to hear the ruthless tone of this heartless woman who so often referred to Satan as her master. She spoke of how easy it was to turn those at Westerleigh from their faith.

She spoke of doing no more than tricking them into believing her with the use of petty magic and spells that promised much but delivered little. They soon became her slaves. All but Father Creaton who refused her time and time again, clinging to his faith in spite of her show of power.

“It pleases me to know the man held fast,” James said much later as he digested the news. “He was there that night. I saw him watching all of it. He just stood there and did nothing.”

Elizabeth sighed and closed the diary. “He could do nothing to help you, James. She would have killed him too. From what I read from his papers, he remained there only as a witness. It all makes sense. He went along only to figure some way out of it to save them all. After your death, he was burned alive in his church. I hardly see he was rewarded for his loyalty. More like murdered to keep him silent.”

“So you think Isabelle’s followers killed him to keep him silent of what happened? She couldn’t leave the grounds by then. You might be right. Keep reading. She might tell of it yet.”

Elizabeth read on, learning a great deal about why Isabelle did as she did. She looked up and saw James reading over Daniel’s shoulder and gestured to him to come over. He floated near, his silver eyes meeting hers with worry in them.

“I discovered who the imposter was. It was your retainer Sir Edmund Sheffield. He was her lover,” Elizabeth said quietly, seeing his silver eyes glow with rage. “They planned it all from the start. She was trying to get Henry to set aside his marriage to Katherine. When her father was accused of treason, it changed everything. She was married to you instead. She intended to use this spell she discovered to allow Edmund to take Henry’s place once she was queen. The spell claims the persons inexplicably become the other. She never performed it before you arrived home. And we all know that it failed for Edmund never traded places with you. When the mask came off that night, he was the same man. He didn’t have your face as she believed he would.”

James glared at the book, shaking to learn his most trusted retainer betrayed him. “So I have Edmund to thank for siring all of these imposters? Does she say why the spell failed?”

Elizabeth leafed through the old, yellowed pages. “Isabelle found the book of spells in her father’s rooms at Hampton Court. He once studied at a monastery years before. He came across the book in their archives and stole it. He was a scholar, not a true follower of witchcraft. He read it for whatever historical value there was to be had in it. He never knew until his trial that she took it from his room until it was too late. He never spoke out against her. That is how she learned to do her magic. She claims no reason she can think of why the spell failed, but cites a non-believer in the circle that night might have been the cause.”

“Father Creaton, you think?”

“I think it’s possible. Father Creaton allowed her to think he believed in her power, and caused the break in the circle, the reason she believed the spell failed,” Elizabeth explained quietly. “For years she tried to undo it. She commanded the servants to lure unwary travelers to the castle and seek all those they might. The villagers who lived after that night also helped her try to find another worthy sacrifice. She killed hundreds of people over the years to undo the spell. We saw their bones embedded in the walls of the chamber. She was never able to reverse it to free herself from Westerleigh. And then Edmund became ill. She sent her children to live with her cousin after that. She died years later of starvation, not the wasting sickness as you once thought. Her last entry was that her grandson caught her sacrificing a village girl down there. He chained her to the rock slab and sealed off the passages. We saw the bones where she was chained. And we know the rest. The tower was also boarded up. Edmund’s ancestors tried to hide it from ever being known.”

James wore a tense expression. “Does she reveal where my remains are buried on the grounds?”

Elizabeth looked away from his piercing stare. “They burned you in the bonfire. After they took your remains and buried you down there after the ritual. Your bones join those in the walls.”

“All but what is in that damned box,” James added with a derisive laugh. “We are no closer than we were before!”

Elizabeth paused and shook her head. “That’s it! She didn’t understand the delivery of the spell. She kept your heart in that box as some sort of memento. She mentions it at length in her diary, how she wanted some piece of you to remember her victory by. That is why it didn’t work!”

James frowned. “I fail to see how that is relevant, Elizabeth. I’m afraid a heart cannot survive on its own. I was dead! What difference does that even make? ”

“Don’t you see? She cut out your heart and you died, yes. It was part of the ritual. After they burned you, but she kept the heart. She should have burned it too that night. Don’t you see? That is why you are both trapped. Why we can’t open the box. I think it’s very obvious. It also explains why you can’t enter either place. Both were where your remains were kept.”

“What do we do to reverse it?”

“We must sacrifice your heart, using the very same spell,” Elizabeth said softly, seeing his troubled look. “It’s the only way! That one piece of you has kept you both here. It’s almost All Hallow’s Eve, James. We do it on the anniversary of it, or the moment is lost for another year.”

“I thought we had other plans that night,” James eyed her strangely, seeing her blush at his sensual whispered words. “Or have you changed your mind of me coming to you?”

Elizabeth met his heated look with a sad smile. “It appears we don’t have as many hours as we both would like. It has to be done before dawn, or we wait yet another year. I cannot say what Edward plans for me in the future. Don’t you see? I’m as trapped as you are, James. Both of us need not be.”

“I think I have something you might wish to see, M’lady,” Daniel called over to her, interrupting them.

Elizabeth went over to where Daniel and Percy both studied the book of spells.

“Look at the dates that are recorded here, M’lady,” Percy said smugly as he held up Isabelle’s spell book. “It was a leap year in 1546. That means tomorrow night is the actual night this happened three hundred years ago.”

James grinned at the man’s discovery. “It looks as if we have our hours back, my sweet.”

~ ~ ~

Annie stood outside the servant’s hall and listened to the others talking within, her brow furrowed. Mr. Pettigrew was addressing the servants, waiting until she left to speak to them.

“As you know His Lordship wrote to me and will be joining us very soon. From the date of this letter, it is likely tomorrow he arrives. We must all be on our best during his stay. If you want a good reference this is paramount. Under no circumstance do any of us mention what Her Ladyship and her visitors have been doing in the catacombs if asked. We will merely say the gentlemen from London are Her Ladyship’s guests. Is that understood?”

“What if he finds out that they been down digging in the tunnels?” It was Mrs. Abbot who asked. “It seems to me if we lie, we won’t get a reference either way.”

Mr. Pettigrew sighed tiredly. “Since when have you ever seen His Lordship deign to go into the cellars to retrieve his own wine? He won’t know if you say nothing of it.”

“Why are you covering for Her Ladyship now, Mr. Pettigrew?” It was Mrs. Gates who spoke up. “She has brought all of this on herself! I think the first of us to tell of what she has done the most certain to get a reference.” Many echoed her statement, much arguing within.

“Listen to me! All of you!” Pettigrew got them to be quiet once more. “We were wrong. She’s not mad! I overheard her talking with His Lordship in the library. The men believe her. They seek to help him now too. The two men are experts in this field. I think the less we say of this the better. The duke’s arrival is sudden, but by no means do we further his belief that his wife is losing her mind. Are we clear? If not, you will find yourself dismissed before he arrives.”

Annie walked away from the doorway, scurrying back up the stairs to the servant’s wing. She tiptoed into her mistress’s room, looking around with wide eyes, wondering if what all Pettigrew said was true. She swallowed hard, finding it difficult to believe it.

She laughed off her lady’s telling her of James Carlisle’s ghost speaking to her and coming to her in the night. She privately thought her mistress was indeed succumbing to madness, and now this. She shook her head, muttering under her breath, pleased His Lordship would arrive soon. She dearly wanted to leave this place.

~ ~ ~

  The maids arrived at eleven that evening, none questioning why Her Ladyship demanded such a large late supper, setting two places at the table as she requested.

Elizabeth bathed and changed into a silk peignoir and lit candles, illuminating the room in a seductive glow. She added more wood to the fire, pleased at the overall effect.

She was nervous, staring at her appearance in her vanity mirror. She brushed her freshly washed hair until it was soft and hung in sable waves to her hips. She touched cologne to her throat and wrists.

James was in his own apartments, waiting for the change to happen before he joined her. She smiled as she imagined the evening ahead, of at last knowing what it meant to know a man intimately. Elizabeth trembled to think of being with James, of his making love to her in the actual flesh.

BOOK: The Ghost Who Loved Me
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