Chapter Seven

A bigail sat in the barn as the day wore on, the iron skillet, washed of blood, next to her. Waiting. Listening. Trying to ignore how hungry she was. Boo kept her company, curling up in her lap as if knowing she needed her closeness. It had been hours since Kerrick left with William draped over his horse.

The sound of hoofbeats made her stiffen, and she stood, ready to hide.

“Back again.”

Abigail released her breath when she heard Kerrick’s voice. When he’d left to haul William’s body out on the moor, she remained outside the castle where Rohaise roamed. The whole day had left Abigail cold and weak. I’ve killed a man.

He was going to kill you. If not today, then soon enough.

Her justifications did little to ease her conscience.

Kerrick rounded the door to lead Leum into the barn, making the kittens scatter into the corners which were growing thick with shadows. The day was waning. Soon Samhain would be over, and Rohaise would not be quite as frightening.

Kerrick saw Abigail and paused. “Are ye well?”

She took a full breath. “My middle name is Grace,” she said. “When I escaped Aberdeen, I started using it and made up the last name Winfield. I swore to myself that I would use it for the rest of my life so William couldn’t find me.” She blinked, trying to decipher his face, but he gave nothing of his thoughts away. “I would have told you before more happened… between us. I was afraid that even speaking my name into the world would somehow alert him that I was here.” She shook her head. “I know that sounds insane. I—”

“Ye did what ye had to do to protect yourself,” he said. Kerrick led his horse into its stable, and Abigail watched as he removed the tack, his strength making easy work of it. Leum began to munch on hay, and Kerrick came out, sliding the latch shut.

He turned, stopping before her and met her gaze. “I had time to think on the moor.” He shook his head. “I have never been in the type of jeopardy ye were in,” Kerrick said, his voice deep and soft. “I have fought men as a man, as a soldier, or as a brother on equal footing.” His hand came up to rest on her shoulder. “As a woman, ye must feel hunted, easily entrapped, and at the mercy of those stronger than ye.”

She nodded but didn’t speak, feeling the press of emotion in her chest.

“It was foolish to grow angry at ye,” he said, dropping his hand. “My father told me often that I was easily fooled, especially when I joined Cromwell’s army. ’Twas my issue, not yours.”

“I am sorry.” Her remorse filled each word.

He pulled her closer, and she went into his arms willingly. He kissed her forehead. “Do ye want me to call ye Abigail or Grace?”

“Abigail,” she whispered, relief coming out with the word. “Now that William is dead.”

“Ye can claim your inheritance now,” he said, “back in Aberdeen.”

She hadn’t even thought of that, her mind had been so wrapped up with the grim events and worry over Kerrick not forgiving her.

“I have crates of books there,” she said, taking a long deep breath that filled her with hope, something that had been missing for so long. “If I add it to yours, Delgatie will have a fine library indeed.”

His hand found hers, his fingers weaving through her own in an intimate hold. They walked together out of the barn, Boo following. The sun had started to lower toward the horizon.

“Has Rohaise been about?” he asked as they walked through the broken gate.

“I’ve been hiding out here, so I don’t know. I left the skillet in the barn, just in case.”

“Ye are wise,” he said.

Total destruction lay within the four walls of the kitchen. Flour, wine, and blood mixed on the stone floor. Tankards scattered and dented. Dishes and glassware shattered. Without a word, he guided her into the great hall where he lit several sconces along the walls.

“What do we do now?” she asked, her voice small.

“I think we stay out of her way while it is still Samhain. The sun should set within the hour, but we can return to town to sleep.”

She nodded, looking down at the blood-splattered green gown. “I need to change into my other stained gown,” she said. Thank goodness she’d scrubbed most of it clean. “It’s in my room. I’ll be right back.”

“Grab whatever else ye need for the night,” he called as she hurried up the stairs.

In the front room she’d used before, she slipped out of Rohaise’s green gown and threw a clean white smock on over her head. Abigail turned and gasped, her heart pounding.

Rohaise hovered by the wall behind the bed’s headboard. Tap. Tap. Tap . Her knuckles hit the wall.

“You scared me,” Abigail said, feeling all the hairs on the back of her neck rise.

’Tis still Samhain . Rohaise floated closer to her. I need you to free me from the wall .

“Free you?”

I am imprisoned there. My father tired of my weeping for my love. He put me in the wall .

Abigail pressed a hand to her chest. “That is horrible.”

You can help me. Go to the wall, Abigail. Help me like I helped you .

“I will get Kerrick. He will—”

Help me now! A breeze blew around Abigail as Rohaise whipped behind her, a rock held in her ghostly hand. Crack . A blinding pain shot through Abigail’s head, and blackness engulfed her before she hit the floor.

*

Kerrick stared at the mess in the kitchen. If anyone came up from town and saw it, there would be an inquiry. They needed to clean some before going to the inn. Grabbing a crate, he began to toss shards of pottery and glass into it.

He heard steps in the great hall. “I’m in here,” he called to Abigail through the open door.

“And I am in here for ye, Kerrick Hay.” The oddly accented voice shot warrior’s energy through his blood, like when he’d been about to fight on the battlefield. He turned sharply. Abigail stood there, her shoulders bare, wrapped in a sheet. Her smile was full of mischief.

“Abigail?” he said, but despite the outward appearance, he knew she was not the sweet, clever woman who had just gone above to change her dress.

“I have wanted this for a very long time,” she said taking more steps toward him.

Hiss! Abigail’s kitten leaped onto the counter, her tiny ears back, her hair standing on end to make her look twice her size as she arched her back.

Abigail ignored Boo and continued her advance toward Kerrick. He’d been stalked by brazen lasses when he was part of Cromwell’s army, but this was different. There was a hunger in Abigail’s face as if he were that apple Rohaise had devoured earlier.

She stopped several feet from him. Her fingers unfolded one by one until the sheet dropped to the floor, leaving her completely naked. His breath lodged in his chest. The waning sun shone through the small windows, revealing her smooth skin over gentle, soft curves. Abigail’s smile grew, and she slid her hands over her full breasts, pinching her rosy nipples before traveling lower to stroke her own softly rounded abdomen, her fingers reaching toward the dark patch between her legs.

“Rohaise?” he said, trying to keep his voice even.

Her smile grew to show her teeth. “Aye.”

“What have ye done with Abigail?”

She glided over to him, and he saw that her blue eyes had darkened to brown. Kerrick grabbed her upper arms, and her smile faltered. “She is here, inside with me.”

Reaching forward, he pressed his fingers against her neck and inhaled fully at the strong pulse there. She’s alive. Kerrick stepped around her and grabbed up the sheet, draping it over her shoulders. “What are ye doing in her body?”

Her smile returned. “’Tis Samhain, and once I saw I could enter that villain’s dead body on this day, I tried with this very much alive one,” she said, and shook off the sheet.

Kerrick caught it. “Damnit, Rohaise,” he said, wrapping it and tying the ends in a knot over her shoulder. “Ye need to leave her body now .”

She pouted and shook her head. “I was meant to marry a Hay, and now I can. I will truly be the lady of Delgatie Castle. As it should be.”

He looked deep into her dark, flat eyes. Did Abigail know what was going on? “Abigail?” he asked.

Rohaise frowned. “She is sleeping.”

“Leave her body. Now.” His voice filled the dismantled room.

Abigail’s face pinched into a sinister mask. “Nay, milord,” Rohaise said through the tight clench she held with her stacked teeth.

Kerrick grabbed her arms, shaking her. “Leave her.”

Rohaise’s head snapped back. “What ye do to me, ye do to her.”

Kerrick yanked his hands away, and Rohaise straightened, staring directly at him. “Human bodies are fragile, milord. I could trip and fall down the stairs. They are quite steep.” The look of tightly held anger turned to satisfaction as she watched him. “As long as ye keep us safe, Abigail Lindsey lives.” She raised her hand to his face. “And in this body, I can give ye such pleasure.”

He remained still as her fingers traced down his cheek, the touch making his gut twist in on itself.

“I can have your children, Kerrick Hay. This body is young and beautiful and vigorous, everything a man of your endurance can use for his delight.”

She reached up on her toes to kiss him. She smelled of Abigail, the flower scent remaining on her body, but the feel of her lips on his made cold dread roll through him. This monster would never be Abigail, despite the outward appearance.

Rohaise pulled back, a smile across her face. “And when Samhain is over,” she said, “I’m certain I will be able to stay within this body permanently.”

Bloody hell. The sun was sinking fast. Once it was below the horizon, Samhain would be over for another year. “How do ye know that?”

“Before you came to Delgatie, while she slept, I tried to slip into this woman, and I couldn’t. But with the barrier between life and death thin on Samhain, I was able to easily.” She shrugged Abigail’s straight shoulders. “So once the barrier shuts, I will be able to stay.”

The thought ripped through Kerrick. “Ye helped Abigail. Why would ye hurt her?”

“I am not hurting her,” she said, walking away from him to stretch her arms over her head. “She is still alive, and I know she desires ye.” Her smile turned teasing, and she reached down to touch between her legs. “She is wet for ye, milord.”

Dammit . “Can I talk to her?”

Rohaise crossed her arms over Abigail’s breasts. “Nay. She is sleeping, and that is where she will stay. She will keep this body living with all the workings that God gave her, but I will rule everything else.” Abigail would be caught in a nightmarish sleep, unable to control herself.

He needed a plan to expel Rohaise without jeopardizing Abigail. And he needed to execute it fast. He stared at her, his mind running through scenarios. Rohaise had acted independently for centuries. How would she react to being controlled by another?

“I am thirsty,” he said. “As my wife, ye will be required to see to all my needs.”

She smiled broadly and tugged at the knot he’d tied at her shoulder, letting the sheet drop. “I will, milord.”

He looked away from Abigail’s lush body. “I am thirsty, and ye will obey your lord. Tie that sheet around ye and fetch me ale.”

Her brows lowered, and she pouted as she wrapped the sheet around herself. “Ye would not rather bed me?”

“Ale. Now, woman.”

Boo hissed as Rohaise walked gingerly through the broken glass past her, the kitten running out the back door.

“Ye will be modest outside my bed chamber, Rohaise,” he said, his voice hard. “And ye will clean up all this mess and cook me some food.”

She frowned but walked over to the table, avoiding the blood and wine. “We will hire maids for that,” she said, bending to find a cask that hadn’t been smashed.

“I may use a maid or two if they are bonny enough, but ye, wife, will see to my needs, including keeping my castle clean and my belly full.”

She jerked upright, frowning. “I will not tolerate mistresses, milord.”

The sun was nearly set. How much longer did he have to save Abigail?

He stalked to Rohaise, grabbing her arm hard enough that Abigail would likely have bruises. ’Tis not Abigail right now . He frowned down into her face, piercing her flat brown eyes. “Ye will tolerate anything I desire, wife. I am the man, and ye are here to comfort and bring me pleasure and children, nothing else. And certainly not your opinion about the mistresses I keep.”

Rohaise pulled her hand back, cocked to slap him. Kerrick easily caught it and smiled wickedly as she struggled to yank it back. “Ye are not strong in Abigail’s body, Rohaise. As my wife in this weak body, ye will do what I say or suffer the consequences.”

“I will kill her then,” she said, her upper lip curling as if she growled.

He met her stare. “If ye kill her, ye will be trapped in this body, dying too.” He had no idea if that were true but neither did the spirit. “I don’t see God looking too favorably on ye for killing an innocent woman.” Rohaise’s eyes opened wider. “Your soul will burn in Hell’s fires,” he said, hoping he found something, anything that she feared.

She shook her head as if casting off his words. “God knows of my turmoil. He will judge me worthy of his angels.”

Damn . His plan was not working. The sunset cast an orange glow in the room. Oh Lord, Abigail. He couldn’t fail her.

Kerrick slid his hand up Rohaise’s throat, resting under her chin just enough to show his dominance. “Ye will cook and clean all day and take my pleasure at night when I am not with my mistresses. Ye will smile and be the good wife ye wished to be, no matter what I do.” He leaned in. “Even if it gives ye pain or disgusts ye.”

Her eyes widened as he let his words paint terrible pictures in her mind. “Ye are a monster, then. Like Abigail’s William,” she said.

Kerrick did not loosen his hold on her and shrugged. “I will be your husband, and ye are too weak in this body to do anything about it.” He leaned into her ear. “Ye may find ye like being tied outside with your arse in the air for me to—”

“Nay!” She jerked her face away, shoving against him, her arms trying to break free of his fierce hold. But she was unable to escape while stuck in Abigail’s body. With a wild shriek, Abigail suddenly went limp, and a great wind whipped through the room.

Kerrick caught her, lifting her in his arms. Rohaise had left her.

He tore through the back kitchen door, Abigail pressed against his chest. Smashing through the broken wheelbarrow, he ran a direct line out of the gate. Past the boundary of the wall, he raced to the barn, setting Abigail down gently on the floor against a hay bale. Boo jumped up next to her as if on guard.

“Abigail,” he said, his hands brushing her hair from her face. “Abigail, please.” Kerrick lowered his ear to her chest as his fingers sought the pulse in her neck.

Thud. Thud. Thud . He closed his eyes, staying there for a long moment, taking in the steady deep thud with relief. “Thank ye, Lord,” he whispered. His hands explored the back of her head where a bump swelled, the crustiness of blood indicating that Rohaise had hit her.

Kerrick grabbed a wool blanket from Leum’s back and covered her. “Abigail,” he said, sliding his thumb over her bottom lip.

“Meow.” Boo rubbed against her.

“Kerrick?” Abigail murmured.

“Aye, lass.” He swallowed, his breath ragged.

“Rohaise…” she said, her voice weak. “She hit me. I had the most horrible dream.” She reached up to touch his face and he grabbed her hand, kissing it. “It wasn’t a dream, was it?” she asked.

“Nay.”

“I… I did and said things…”

“It wasn’t ye, Abigail.”

He pulled her into his arms, holding her there as she shivered. “And you said… you—”

“Said terrible things I did not mean to get her out of ye.”

“I know,” she said, hugging him. “You are very clever, Kerrick Hay. I could feel her lust turn to loathing.”

He huffed, kissing her forehead.

“I am not going back in there until after Samhain,” she said, trembling.

“It comes every year,” he said. “And even as a spirit, Rohaise haunts this place. She is a constant threat.”

“I think terrible things happened to her,” Abigail said. “We must look inside the wall that she taps. When she was… in me…” She paused and pressed a hand to her chest, “there was this terrible trapped feeling, and such anger and betrayal.”

But Kerrick felt no pity for the spirit that had taken Abigail over. “She needs to go,” he said. “Tonight. If the veil between the living and the dead is at its thinnest, she is most vulnerable.” The sun had not yet vanished.

“What will you do?”

Kerrick inhaled. Seeing Abigail taken by Rohaise proved once again how deadly she was and how important Abigail had become to him. There was no way to live peacefully with the ghost. “I will set her free.”