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his head to study her.
    “Let’s pretend ghosts are real,” he said, startling her.
    “You don’t think they are?”
    “I don’t know what I think,” he admitted. “But let’s pretend ghosts are real. Why wouldn’t they want to appear before us?”
    “Because it’s painful.”
    He didn’t say anything for a moment. “Painful?” he finally asked.
    “Perhaps they remember being alive, and being around the living reminds them of life.”
    “You’ve given some thought about this.”
    She nodded.
    “Perhaps they can only see certain people, such as relatives or friends or loved ones,” she said.
    “Or,” he said, adding to her list, “they only appear to those who wish to see them. Otherwise, they’d frighten people.”
    She shook her head again. “I don’t think so. Sarah, one of the maids, won’t go near the East Tower. She swears the Green Lady came to her when she was cleaning the chapel. Sarah most definitely did not wish to see a ghost.”
    “The Green Lady?”
    She glanced over at him.
    “She was confined to her chamber when her father discovered she’d planned to run away with her love. It’s said she lived there alone for three years until she couldn’t bear it anymore and threw herself out the window.”
    He didn’t say anything again.
    When he still didn’t speak after several long moments, she said, “But Sarah is a little flighty and may have only imagined seeing her.”
    He turned his head again. “Do people think you’re flighty, for wanting to see a ghost?”
    She smiled, more to herself than to him, because he couldn’t see her.
    “Yes,” she said.
    Every single member of the staff at Ballindair thought she was more than flighty. They thought her a little barmy. Catriona had spread the tale, thinking it a great jest.
    She loved her sister, but there were times when Catriona tried her patience.
    “How many ghosts do you know about?” he asked.
    “Twelve,” she said. “But the only ones I’m truly interested in are the Herald, the Green Lady, and the French Nun.”
    “I wanted to see the first earl,” he said. “He was reputed to be quite a swaggering figure.”
    He had a bit of swagger about him as well, but that was a comment she wisely didn’t make.
    For a few long moments they didn’t speak, simply listening to the silence. Ballindair was so large, so filled with people, it was unusual to find any peaceful spot. The moonlight streaming into the gallery anointed this a hallowed place. Here, ghosts might walk with mortal man, and even stop to tell a tale or two.
    “The French Nun,” she found herself saying, “fell madly in love with the 2nd Earl of Denbleigh.”
    He glanced at her again. She wished she’d taken more care with her hair, rather than just tossing her night braid over her shoulder.
    “She’d already taken her vows when she met him, of course. Nor did she want to fall in love. At least, that’s what the book on Ballindair’s ghosts says. But she left her convent in France and traveled to Scotland because none of her letters had been answered, and she was worried for him.”
    He didn’t speak, which was just as well. How did she tell him the rest of the story, or did he know it?
    She continued, pushing through a barrier of reluctance. If he chided her afterward for saying things about his ancestors, then she would just simply have to accept the rebuke.
    “When she arrived at Ballindair, it was to find her love had married. She was ill from the journey, and the laird took her in, of course, but she died not long afterward.”
    “Where did she die?”
    He already knew or he wouldn’t have asked.
    “The North Tower.”
    “The Laird’s Tower,” he said.
    She nodded, then reminded herself he couldn’t see her in the darkness. “The very same.”
    “So that’s what you were doing there,” he said.
    What had she done? She was certain to be dismissed now.
    He surprised her again by only saying, “Not an honorable man, the second earl, was