He frowned, disliking the idea. “I’m afraid I have a prior engagement.”
Her clear blue eyes gazed into his. “I’m not afraid, are you?”
Harry raised his eyebrows slightly, nettled because she pricked his masculine pride. “I doubt there’s really much to fear except catching a cold. A chilly, dirty place. And I planned to look up an old friend this afternoon.”
“May we go tomorrow, then?” she persisted undaunted. “After church?”
He widened his eyes. “You are an insistent young woman, Miss Dunstable.”
“Pushy, you mean,” she said with an unrepentant grin.
He laughed and shook his head. Benny grew restive and dragged on the lead. “We should go back.”
“You haven’t said you’ll go there with me.” She pouted delightfully.
“Very well, if your mother agrees.” Harry was pretty sure Mrs. Dunstable would pour cold water on the idea. “We’ll enjoy the walk at least, although it’s quite a climb. Let’s say, two o’clock tomorrow, after luncheon.” His mother always served a delicious roast dinner after church.
They returned to the park gates, while Harry examined his feelings. He had to admit, spending time with Cecily would outweigh his disquiet about venturing into the castle. And somehow, he knew she would be there waiting for him tomorrow at two.
He watched her narrow back and neat waist approvingly as she went indoors.
In the entry hall of his parent’s home, Harry removed Benny’s lead. The house smelled of mouthwatering frying bacon. One of his mother’s ample breakfasts awaited him. As he washed his hands and combed his hair, he looked forward to the afternoon when he would call on his friend, Brian Crosby, who worked for the local newspaper. He would know much about what went on in the area, including the castle. If there was anything. It was possible the castle had been closed for the winter season. He frowned. He’d come round to the idea of going up there because he wanted to spend time with Cecily. But in a few days, he would be back in London in his dreary digs and the strict routine of his days.
*
The next morningat church with her mother, Cecily saw Harry come in with his parents. He raised his eyebrows, and she nodded. She felt a little guilty that she hadn’t asked her mother. Mother always read the Bible in her bedroom on Sunday afternoon and usually fell asleep. She expected Cecily to do the same. Cecily hated being shut in. Life was passing her by. On her knees in the pew, she prayed. “Oh Lord, forgive me. This will be my one indiscretion.”Soon Harry would leave, and my chance at happiness will go with him.“I promise to become a dutiful daughter again,” she whispered.
As they left the church, her mother stopped to talk to the Johnsons. Harry discreetly drew her apart. “I spoke to my friend yesterday. Brian knows all about the castle. We recalled some of the ghost stories we’d heard as children. Apparently, a lady wearing a white dress is sometimes seen in the tower and the forecourt. She was Lady Margaret Pomeroy, who’s believed to roam the dungeons of St Margaret’s Tower, where she died after being starved to death by her jealous sister, Lady Eleanor, who loved the same man.”
“Oh! So that is your lady in white,” she cried.
“It doesn’t necessarily follow,” he began, obviously disliking the notion.
“Oh, but that’s so evil!” Cecily said, ignoring him. “The poor thing. How very sad. I wonder why she roams about?”
He gazed at her, amusement in his eyes. “Does she need a reason?”
“They say ghosts can’t go to their rest until someone helps them.” She stared fiercely at him. “We must help her. We are going up there, aren’t we?”
He eyed her carefully. “You wouldn’t prefer a pleasant picnic by the lake?”
“No,” she said firmly, although it did sound enticing.
He sighed. “You still want to go.”
“Yes. I do.”
“What does your mother say?”
Cecily glanced at her mother, who chatted with Mrs. Johnson. “I… haven’t broached it with her. But it will be all right.”
His eyes twinkled as if he doubted her. “I’ll wait at the end of the street at two o’clock. If you don’t come, don’t worry. I’ll understand.”
She lifted her chin. “I’ll be there.”
“Cecily?” Her mother had left the Johnsons and waited at the gate.
“Coming, Mother.” With a firm nod at Harry, Cecily hurried to join her.