Page 24 of Highland Ghost

“Nay, Caitlin,” he told her. “Ian’s instructions are that ye are no’ to open it until tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” she asked. “I dinna understand.”

Finn’s mouth turned into a frown, and he looked as if he’d lost his best friend. Sadness painted his features. “I promised Ian that I’d make sure ye didna open it until then.”

“All right. I willna,” she said.

“But of course, I didna promise him that anyone else wouldna open the missive.”

“What? I dinna ken what ye mean, Finn.”

“North, let’s go. It’s goin’ to rain soon and I want to get home,” Nash shouted as he directed the wagon over the drawbridge.

“Guidbye, Finn. Pay our regards to Laird MacBain as well.” North turned the horse and sped away, not even enabling Caitlin to question Finn further about his odd behavior, or the fact that Ian didn’t come to see them off.

Ian watched fromhis solar window as Finn gave Caitlin his missive, and then his once-betrothed sped away atop the horse with North MacKeefe. He had wanted to say one last goodbye to the beautiful Caitlin, but he realized it would be too hard to do it in person.

All he wanted was for her to stay. For her to marry him and love him with the same love he’d been feeling for her for days now.

It didn’t matter.

She’d made it clear that she wouldn’t marry him after he’d deceived her. Besides, he didn’t want her to marry him anymore. It was too risky. If the spirits of Sylvia and Bernard didn’t decide that Ian and Caitlin were in love, Caitlin would lose her life along with Ian.

Ian would gladly stay single and just worship Caitlin from afar if it meant keeping her safe and keeping her from dying. But today was different. Today was his twenty-fifth birthday and he was still single. What that meant was that today was the day we would die because of the MacBain curse. If only he’d found out about this latter part of the curse earlier, mayhap he wouldn’t have to die. If only he had more time – time to make Caitlin fall in love with him. But he didn’t. Love was something earned, not bought or forced. He thought Caitlin cared for him, but he wasn’t sure. Certainly, she didn’t love him.

There came a small knock at the door and then Finn poked his head inside. “Ian?”

“I’m here,” said Ian, still staring out the window as Caitlin left him forever. “Did she say anythin’ when ye gave her the missive?”

“She just wondered why ye didna do it yerself.” Finn entered the room.

“Ye told her no’ to open it until the morrow, right? Please tell me ye kept yer promise and did no’ tell her what I wrote.”

“I told her to wait until the morrow,” said Finn, hanging his head, looking like he was about to cry.

“It’ll be dark soon,” said Ian, slowly closing the shutter since it hurt too much to watch Caitlin leave. “Have Ewan bring out the gourds carved by the children, and light the candles inside of them at nightfall to ward away the evil spirits of the night.”

“Ian, I highly doubt that a few faces carved into gourds are goin’ to frighten away Sylvia and Bernard.”

“Nay, they willna,” he said, staring at nothing in particular as he spoke. “Make a big bonfire in the middle of the courtyard for the All Hallows’ Eve festival tonight.”

“Ye’re still goin’ through with this?” Finn looked up in surprise. “Even with yer . . . death tonight?”

“Even more so,” said Ian. “The children who returned to the castle will be excited to eat the soul cakes that Flora and her daughters have been bakin’ all day. I willna deprive them of that. Besides, I’ll need ye to eat a soul cake for me tonight as well.”

Soul cakes were palm-sized round shortbread biscuits mixed with lots of spices. They had currants on top forming the shape of a cross. They were usually given to beggars, or children who went door to door, begging on All Hallows’ Eve. The receiver of the soul cake would say a prayer for the dead souls. With each cake eaten that night, one soul would be saved. Ian had done this tradition for many years, ever since his childhood. But now, Ian would be the one who needed his soul saved instead.