Free The Ghost Who Loved Me by Karolyn Cairns

other men in his acquaintance never came looking for him was never explained. This imposter stayed close to Westerleigh those eighteen years.
    No portrait of the man was ever commissioned either, giving James no means to identify the thief who stole his life. Isabelle was careful of that. The only portraits in the gallery were those of her and her children.  
    Nothing explained to him how the imposter managed to hide all from the servants, villagers, and Father Creaton.
    And what of his own personal retainers?
    Those loyal men who fought in battle bravely beside him were another matter. How could they have stood by and done nothing? Sir Edmund Sheffield would have cut down any man or woman that dared to kill his lord or so one would think.
    Such never happened leaving him with a sinking feeling all was not as it seemed and further frustrated him to not know what happened that day.
    There was simply nothing in the books to tell him how someone could steal his life and make it their own and go unchallenged by any. James had to work quickly if he was to discover how to free himself from this coil.
    The changes that were coming to Westerleigh in the future made it necessary before the castle was closed forever and any answers with it.
    James knew there was no way to give him back what was lost to him that fateful day. He was infuriated that some unknown man stole his life, passed his heirs off as his for centuries. He was determined to learn the truth.
    The helpless anger he felt to know he was cheated out of his life made him lose his own reason at times and rage against those injustices.
    The sadness he felt was overwhelming at times too, remembering the past with such vivid detail that last day he was alive. He recalled how it seemed so ordinary as it began, even mundane, and yet unappreciated when he looked back on it.
    If he had only known it would have been his last day alive.
    What would he have done differently if given another chance? Would he have swung his mount around, raced back to Hampton Court to steal his lady away? Would he declare her his heart of hearts and let all say what they would? Would he have willingly incurred Henry’s wrath for forsaking Isabelle?
    He would never leave here to know the answer to any of it.
    For another curse was to be tied here and be unable to leave the castle grounds. The alarming fact that he could not travel beyond the borders of Westerleigh was another trial to contend with over the centuries.
    He tried time and time again to leave. An invisible force kept him bound here, unable to leave to see this new world growing up all around him. Only the lucky living could cross that threshold beyond Westerleigh.
    But he alone was trapped here, left behind to watch them go year after year with a bitter feeling of loss to forever be unable to follow.

Chapter Four
     
    Elizabeth righted herself on the seat as the ominous sight of Westerleigh Castle came into view. It was a mammoth grey stone structure boasting four towers on all sides. She squinted in the distance to see the flag of the Carlisle family’s impressive coat of arms flying from the parapets.
    She knew from her reading during the journey the castle was enormous, with four towers on each side, their rooms made into a sewing room, a solar, a hawking station, and the fourth was closed off for repair. Four spacious wings comprised thirty-six bedchambers, multiple sitting rooms, a nursery, upstairs servant quarters, and a laundry.
    The first level housed a huge ballroom, a billiard room, a library, a formal and informal salon, a study, meeting rooms, a large portrait gallery, the kitchens, a servant’s hall, a downstairs laundry, and another wing of servant’s quarters.
    Below ground housed the vast wine cellars and a catacomb of old passages, some boarded up due to the dangers of a cave-in over the years.
    The stables and outbuildings were just behind the castle. The small cluster of buildings comprised workshops, tool sheds, a