“No one’s making you remember, poppet,” Jack said softly.
“I know,” she whispered.
“What you did was extraordinary. You couldn’t have done any more,” Jack told her.
“I know,” Belle repeated.
“Clear your mind, love,” Jack advised.
She nodded against his neck and pressed even tighter to him, feeling his arms do the same.
She took in a ragged breath and asked, “Do you think we could do anything for Myrtle and Lewis?”
She felt Jack’s body go solid under hers then it started shaking.
Her head lifted and she looked at his shadowy face.
“Jack?” she called then heard his chuckle and it was her turn to go solid. “What’s funny now?”
“Poppet, you just shared an inspirational but unbelievably terrifying story considering it was you who did what you said you did. I love that you’re the kind of person who would do something like that. What I don’t love is the thought of you giving yourself hypothermia and likely nearly drowning while saving a busload of kids, no matter how heroic. I also don’t like the trauma you have to endure when you think of it. Therefore, after witnessing that trauma less than a minute ago, I’m not overly enthusiastic that you’re willing to throw yourself into another heroic endeavour to save the souls of two nonexistent ghosts.”
She pulled away slightly and looked in the direction of his face. “I doubt it would be dangerous.”
“Belle, they don’t exist,” Jack retorted with what she could tell was waning, if amused, patience.
“I saw them. Mom saw them. Joy’s been seeing them for years!” Belle reminded him kind of loudly.
“No offense, love, but you’re a little emotional at the moment and our mothers aren’t exactly the kind of women who live lives ruled by logic and reason.”
Belle’s eyes narrowed. “Are you saying I saw two ghosts, ghosts many others have seen before me, because of hormones?”
She heard his chuckle again and went solid at it again before he said, “No, I’m saying a lot has happened to you, some of it you just shared with me and that you’re willing to believe in something in order to keep your mind off something else that distresses you.”
“So, you’re saying I’m seeing ghosts because of post-traumatic stress?”
“Perhaps.”
“So what about everyone else who has seen them?”
“Poppet, the story of the murders of Joshua Bennett’s family is famous. The resultant whisperings of the ghosts of his children haunting this castle is just as well-known. You might not remember having heard them but you likely have. Myrtle and Lewis are lore in this area of Cornwall. Your mother, likely the same. My mother, definitely the same. She knew of them before she moved into the castle after she married Dad.”
Belle found she was aggravated, not shy, not retiring, not meek, nor mild but straight out annoyed.
At Jack, who, she noted with irritation, was stubborn.
And a bit of a know-it-all.
Therefore, she asked tartly, “Okay, since they don’t exist then you won’t mind me doing… whatever… to help them on their way.”
Jack was silent a moment then he replied, “Knock yourself out, love.”
Belle smiled but Jack’s arms gave her a small shake.
“Just as long as you or your mother, who I’m assuming gave you this idea and is in on it with you, or your grandmother, who also disappeared after dinner, or Mum and Yasmin, who, if they get wind of this will want to join in, don’t put yourselves in danger.”
“We won’t put ourselves in danger,” Belle assured him, still smiling.
“I want you leading the pack,” Jack demanded. “I shudder to think what your mother would have up her sleeve.”
“Don’t worry, Jack. Mom will listen to me,” Belle kind of lied.
She might get her mother to listen to her.
She also might not.
Jack was silent another moment before he muttered, “I get the feeling I’m going to regret this.”
“Everything will be just fine,” Belle promised cheerfully.
Jack’s hand lifted and his fingers tangled in her hair.
“Can we go to bed now?” he asked, his voice dipped low and sexy and Belle’s belly did a flip.
Bed, with Jack, would be good.
Although bed, with Jack, could also be a place where things could get even more complicated.
Belle’s heart and soul were already ready for that.
Belle’s mind, however, wasn’t quite there yet.
Therefore she requested, “Can we watch the storm a while?”
Without hesitation, something else that helped convince her mind, just not entirely, Jack shifted her so her back was no longer to the window but she was facing it.
Then he lifted his knees and she fell between them.
His arms resumed their place around her, her torso twisted, she wound her arms around Jack, placed her cheek to his chest, her lower body curled between his legs and Belle lay in the protective shell of his large frame.
Thus, they watched the storm.
The thunder had long since died, as had the lightning but the rain slammed against the panes.
Belle relaxed in Jack’s arms and, there, she fell asleep.
* * * * *
Lewis and Myrtle
Myrtle stood invisible in the corner of the room as her beloved Jack lifted her newly beloved Belle and carried her to bed, Jack’s dogs jumping up to follow close at his heels.
Jack rested her in bed, carefully took off her dressing gown then pulled off his shirt and Myrtle blushed but she didn’t move.
She watched Jack join Belle in bed as Gretl settled on her side but Baron, although he lay down on his belly, watched Myrtle.
Myrtle gave the dog a friendly wave and Baron let out a gentle woof.
“Quiet, Baron,” Jack ordered softly and instantly Baron put his jaws on his front paws but he didn’t take his blinking eyes from the girl-child ghost.
Myrtle walked backwards, melting through the wall and once through, she zoomed to where Lewis was hovering at the window in the eastern turret, watching the storm.
“Lewis, Lewis, Lewis! Belle’s going to help us!” Myrtle cried upon reaching him, grabbing his arm to give it a good shake.
Lewis turned to look at his sister.
“She can’t help us, Myrtie Mine,” he replied, using the nickname their mother had given Myrtle so many years ago. “She has to be –”
“She saved a bunch of children from drowning. I heard it. She told Jack the whole story,” Myrtle explained excitedly.