Page 48 of Wed to the Highlander

It was Fiona’s turn to look at her sharply. “Someone told you about her?”

“She did. I found her journal hidden in my room.”

Fiona’s jaw dropped before she whispered, “I thought that was naught but a myth.”

“It’s very real. I read it yesterday. She was clearly terrified of someone named Cairn.”

“Cairn MacPherson, her laird husband,” Fiona supplied. “As the story goes, she thought he was trying tae kill her and locked herself and the bairn in the north tower.”

“What happened then?”

“I…uh…thought ye read the journal.”

“Her entries became almost unintelligible and then abruptly stopped.”

“I should nae be the one tellin’ you if Duncan hasna. But I can tell yer frightened.” She hesitated almost too long before stating, “Anne fell tae her death from the top of the tower.”

Maggie gasped, her hands flying to her mouth. “Did she jump?”

“No one can say for sure, but that has long been suspected. Cairn was despondent. He blamed himself for no’ protectin’ her and the bairn.”

“What happened to the child?”

“They searched for him, but he was never found.”

“That’s heartbreaking.”

“Aye.”

A hush settled between them as the wind blew leaves across the yard and sent ripples across the puddles left by the storm.

“Are there secret rooms in the castle?”

“Of course. There are passageways behind the walls and a postern gate, too. They were used to escape if the castle came under siege. Why?”

Maggie shrugged as if it was neither here nor there. “Are they common knowledge?”

“To those livin’ here for any length of time.”

She hadn’t inspected the room thoroughly. It was narrow and could be a wide part of a passageway. Maggie didn’t want to think of someone lurking behind the wall or listening at the door—especially when she was alone with Duncan.

Next, she asked her most burning question. “Do you believe in ghosts?”

Fiona met her gaze. “I believe grief clings to a place.”

“You sound like my mother,” she said quietly. “Have you experienced anything odd in the castle?”

“Never in my seven years here. But visitors often tell stories.”

“Of whispers and shadows?”

“You’ve seen something,” Fiona concluded.

Maggie nodded. “I’ve felt cold spots and heard things.”

“Have you told the laird?”

“Yes, but he’s a practical, educated man—”