Tall, Dark and Kilted (40 page)

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Authors: Allie MacKay

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“Orbs are specks of dust.” Mindy tried not to roll her eyes. “Everyone knows that.”

Margo sniffed. “There are orbs and
orbs
. What I got on film was spirit energy. I’m telling you”—she let go of Mindy’s arm and tossed back her chin-length blond hair, a style and color both sisters shared—“you can put this place on the paranormal map. People will come from all around the country to ghost-hunt and—”

“Oh, no, they won’t.” Mindy flopped down on a chair, her head beginning to pound. “There aren’t any ghosts here. Hunter was sure of that, and so am I. And”—she aimed her best my-decision-is-final look at her sister—“the only place I’m putting this miserable old pile is on the market.”

“But that’s crazy.” Margo sounded scandalized. “Owning a haunted castle is the chance of a lifetime.”

“Yes, it is.” Mindy sat back and folded her arms. “It’s my chance to go back to the airlines and move to Hawaii. I can invest the money from the sale of the castle and what Hunter left me, and live off my flight-attendant salary. It’d be no trouble at all to commute from Oahu or even Maui. And best of all”—she felt wonderfully free at the thought—“I doubt there are many Scotsmen in Hawaii. They can’t take the heat.”

“You’re not thinking clearly.” Margo picked up her purse and moved to the door. “I’ll come back in the morning after you’ve had a good night’s sleep. We’ll talk then.”

“Only if you’re ready to help me find the right real estate agent,” Mindy called after her sister’s retreating back. “I’ve already spoken with a few.”

And each one had sounded more than eager to list MacNeil’s Folly.

Mindy smiled and reached for the mint chocolate wafer she’d almost eaten earlier. Then she helped herself to another and another until the little bone-china plate was empty. Chocolate was good for the soul.

And there weren’t any ghostly souls spooking about the castle.

Not disguised as orbs or otherwise.

Her sister was crazy.

And
she
was going to Hawaii.

But first she needed some sleep. Margo was right about that. Regrettably, when she left the drawing room, she found the rest of the castle filled with a thin, drifting haze. Cold and silvery, thready wisps of it gathered in the corridors and snaked past the tall Gothic window arches. An illusion that surely had everything to do with the night’s full moon just breaking through the fast-moving rain clouds and nothing at all to do with the orbs that her sister claimed were darting around the long gallery.

Or so she thought until she neared that dreaded room and caught the unmistakable strains of a bag-pipe. A haunting old Gaelic air that stopped the instant she neared the gallery’s open door.

A door she always took care to keep closed.

Mindy’s stomach dropped and her knees started to tremble. But when she heard footsteps on the long gallery’s polished wood floorboards and the low murmur of many men’s voices, she got mad and strode forward.

It wouldn’t surprise her if Margo and her crazy New Age friends were playing a trick on her.

A notion she had to discard the minute she reached the threshold and looked into the angry faces of Hunter’s Highland chieftain ancestors. There could be no doubt that it was them, because with the exception of Bran of Barra’s portrait at the far end of the long, narrow room, the ferocious-looking clansmen’s large gold-gilt portrait frames were empty.

She also recognized them.

And this time they weren’t just following her with their oil-on-canvas eyes.

They were in the room. And they were glaring at her.

Glaring and floating her way.

Some even brandished swords.

“Oh my God!” Mindy’s eyes rounded and she clapped a hand to her cheek.

Heart thundering, she tried to slam the door and run, but a handful of the scowling clansmen were quicker. Before she could blink, they surrounded her, their huge kilted bodies blocking her escape.

Kilted, plaid-draped bodies she could see through!

Mindy felt the floor dip beneath her feet as they swept closer, their frowns black as night and their eyes glinting furiously in the moonlight. Soon, she feared, she might be sick. She wished she could faint.

Her sister wasn’t the crazy one.

She was.

Or else she was about to meet a gaggle of real-life ghosts.

And since the latter seemed more likely than that she’d just lost her marbles, she took a deep breath and lifted her chin, peering back at them as if they weren’t a pack of wild-eyed see-through Highlanders.

Then she folded her arms and waited calmly. It was a trick she’d learned in airline training.

How to keep cool at all times.

She just hoped they couldn’t tell she was faking.

She was sure she didn’t want to know what would happen if they guessed.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Allie Mackay
is the alter ego of
USA Today
bestselling author Sue-Ellen Welfonder, who writes Scottish medieval romances. A former flight attendant, she spent fifteen years living in Europe and still makes annual visits to Scotland. Proud of her own Hebridean ancestry, she belongs to two clan societies: the MacFie Clan Society and the Clan MacAlpine Society. Her greatest passions are Scotland, medieval history, the paranormal, and dogs. She is married and lives with her husband and Jack Russell terrier in her home state of Florida. Visit her on the Web at
www.alliemackay.com
.

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First published by Signet Eclipse, an imprint of New American Library,
a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

First Printing, November 2008

Copyright © Sue-Ellen Welfonder, 2008

eISBN : 978-1-440-60223-8

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Table of Contents

Title Page

Copyright Page

Dedication

Acknowledgements

Epigraph

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Epilogue

Teaser chapter

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

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