Free Loving A Highlander by Aileen Wells

Juniper wafted around her.
    “This room is perfect.” She placed the container back in the cupboard and turned to Gerard.  He was leaning against the far wall and in spite of his earlier talk of ghosts, appeared completely relaxed.
    He shrugged.  “I always thought it was a bit dark and gloomy myself.”
    “Ah, so you are afraid of ghosts,” she teased.
    A smile twitched his lips.  “No, lass, I’m not afraid of any spirit that may roam the castle.  It is flesh and blood men that I worry about.  A ghost won’t slit my throat in my sleep, but a man will.”
    Isabella wondered if he was talking about men in general or if he had a specific man in mind.  She had witnessed the dark look that had passed between Gerard and the soldier in the Great Hall.  Something told her the two men were far from friends.
    She crossed the room to stand beside him.  “Is there more than one ghost?”
    Gerard’s grin was wicked as he reached out to caress her cheek with the back of his hand.  “Aye, there are many.  It is rumored that the old cook still haunts the kitchen.  The serving maids swear that if you walk into the kitchen in the middle of the night, you will find a cauldron over the fire and a spoon stirring as if by an invisible hand.”
    Isabella shivered and took a step closer to him.  He surprised her by wrapping a strong arm about her waist and pulling her snugly to his side.
    “And then,” Gerard said, warming to the subject, “there is the ghost of the stable boy who was hung outside this very window.  On windy nights, some say you can still hear his gurgled scream as he slowly choked to death.”
     
    Isabella’s eyes widened as she looked around the small room.  She believed in spirits, of course.  She had even seen one a time or two and even though she believed them to be harmless, she still didn’t relish the idea of coming face to face with one.  Especially in the dead of night when shadows loomed and a person’s imagination had the tendency to run wild.
    “Scared, Bella?” Gerard murmured as he wrapped her in his arms and stole a kiss. 
    Isabella leaned into him.  She could hear the beating of his heart underneath her cheek.  It was slow and steady, telling her that he wasn’t scared of encountering any wandering ghosts.
    Feeling foolish, she took a step back.  She looked toward the window.  She wondered about the stable boy and how long it had been since he had met his demise.
    As if reading her mind, a slight grin tugged at the corners of Gerard’s lips.  “Did I say it was this tower?” he drawled.  “My mistake.  I meant to say the other tower.  The stable boy was hung from the south tower.”
    Isabella arched her delicate brows.  “Was there a stable boy?” she asked, beginning to doubt him.
    Gerard chuckled.  “Aye, lass, there have been plenty of stable boys at the castle, but none has met such a gruesome fate.  Tis a story, nothing more.”
    As if her feet had a will of their own, Isabella took a step closer to him, so close they were almost touching.  “I will be sure and keep far away from the kitchens during the nighttime.”
    A shadow moved in the corner of the room and she shivered as the temperature dropped.  The room may not be haunted by the ghost of a stable boy, but it did come with a ghost, of that she was certain.
    Gerard chuckled as he once again draped an arm around her.  His fingertips grazed the curve of her breast but didn’t linger there.  “You would be wise to do that, Bella.”
    Isabella knew she should step away from him, but she found herself leaning against him as her eyes scanned the room.  A bed, barely large enough for one person, sat against the wall closest to the window.  As if the room’s former occupant liked to keep the shutters open at night so that she could see the moon and the stars.
    “I believe I would like to sleep here, tonight,” she murmured.
    Gerard’s teasing smile vanished.  He grasped her chin and forced