Read Online Haunted Ground by Irina Shapiro - Free Book Online

England had either a clipped, precise way of pronouncing things or a cockney-like accent that I found difficult to understand.  Aidan Mackay’s rounded vowels sounded more warm and natural, and surprisingly easier to comprehend.
    I filled him in on my plan as we walked through the house, Aidan taking notes and measurements as we went.  He seemed to understand exactly what I wanted, making helpful suggestions and shaking his head when I mentioned that I wasn’t about to put TV’s in the guest rooms.
    “I understand that you want to re-create an eighteenth-century atmosphere, but there’s not much to do here in the evenings.  Your guests might get a bit bored, unless you’re planning on holding poetry readings by candlelight, musical soirees, or card games that go into the wee hours as they would have during that period,” he said, smiling sheepishly.  “People are very attached to their gadgets these days.”
    “I know, but that’s a risk I’m willing to take.  I want this place to look and feel as authentic as possible.  Some people might enjoy being disconnected for a few days.” 
    Aidan gave me an understanding smile, but wouldn’t concede his point entirely.  “Well, I hope you’ll at least have Wi-Fi,” he suggested, moving on to the next room.  “I can give up the telly for a few days, but not my phone and computer.  If you force people to go cold turkey, they might just retaliate by giving you bad reviews, and bad reviews are bad for business.”  He had me there.
    “Yes, I think I will,” I replied with a grin and followed him down the stairs and out the front door.  I liked the fact that he wasn’t afraid to argue with me to make his point.  Many people would just agree with whatever I said to get the contract, but Aidan wasn’t just talking to me as a prospective contractor, he was giving me his insight into the running of a business, and that was something I appreciated.  Despite my education and work experience in a major hotel, I’d never actually owned one, or made decisions that might make or break my business.  It was nice to have someone to bounce ideas off.
    I was surprised when instead of heading for his truck, Aidan walked around the south side of the building toward the overgrown back garden.  The path was nearly impassable with weeds and brambles, and the trellis choked with ivy that had grown unchecked for years and intertwined with climbing roses which were fighting for their place in the sun.  Flowers bloomed among the weeds, their brilliant colors adding a festive touch to the unkempt garden that was crying out for the loving hand of an enthusiastic gardener.
      “It would be nice to put out some tables in the garden once it’s been set to rights.  You can serve breakfast there in the summer or tea in the afternoon.  The view is wonderful, especially at sunset.  You have the advantage of having this unspoiled landscape,” he mused, looking out over the lush meadow that stretched toward the line of trees behind the ruin.  “I bet that hill looks much as it had hundreds of years ago – no cell towers, no factories, and no council flats.  Just a meadow, stream, and trees as nature intended.”
    “And the ruin,” I added. 
    “The ruin is an added benefit.  To some it’s a tumbledown eyesore; to others, a passage to the past steeped in romance and history.  Would be good if you had a story to go with it.  Do you know anything of who lived there or why it went to pot?”
    “No, but I intend to find out.”
    “Better yet, make up a tale of yer own if there’s nae historical import to yon old croft.  Might add a wee bit air o’ mystery.  Might be ye’ve seen a restless ghost or some fairy folk?”  He said this in a thick Scottish accent that made me laugh.  I had a feeling he turned on the Scots brogue for the ladies, as it was irresistible.
    I nodded, pleased with the idea.  I almost told him about the man I’d seen in the ruins the other