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‘Not really, I had such vivid dreams.’

‘Really?’

‘Yes, it’s always of this guy−‘

What?  Missing your partner already?’

Realizing he was fishing to find out if she was single, Jessie decided to tease him. ‘Err – no, I don’t know him. Funny how you can dream of complete strangers.’

‘Really – tell me.’

Jes
sie grinned. ‘Oh no – it was much too intimate.’

Douglas watched as the tip of her very pink tongue flitted over her moist lip. He felt a tingle dance down to his groin.  God she was sexy.

Catching the gleam in his eye
,
Jessie laughed.  ‘If you want to know – I don’t have a partner.’

‘Err –Glad to hear it. Maybe I could show you around some time. There are lots to see here.’

‘I’d like that.’ Her expression became serious as she said, ‘Actually we’ve only just split up.  We’d been together for nearly
eighteen months,
but things weren’t working out.’

‘Oh I see – so you’re okay?’

‘Yes – it was just upsetting you know.  Peter’s a free lance journalist.  He’s often called away to
Europe, 
hot spots in Africa and the Middle East. We didn’t get to spend much time together.’

‘Dangerous places to be.’

  ‘Yes I know. I never knew where he would be next. I spent most of our relationship worrying about him.  Still do really. We’re good friends.’

‘That’s quite difficult to achieve – I mean to end something amicably.’

‘I’ve always remained friends with boyfriends or partners.’

He raised his eyebrows. How many relationships had she had?

She continued. ‘Saying that I’ve only had three
boyfriends,
and I’m now twenty-
nine
and single again.’

‘I must say I’m happy to hear that.’

His arm tightened around her shoulders.

Realizing the passion in that grip she said hurriedly, ‘I just want to relax now – have fun – sort myself out. How about you?’

Douglas’s smile faded, ‘How could he tell her? It was too soon.  Maybe she wouldn’t want to get involved when she knew.

CHAPTER 1
6

Nat watched Douglas talking with Jessie, saw the interest in his eyes, the way he lightly gripped her shoulder.  Maybe his brother was ready to get involved.  It was about time. He had been too long on his own, too long yearning and fighting for little Marnie.  The court battle for half-custody of the child was still raging.  As he suspected his ex-wife now aware of his inheritance was fighting for half share of the money and estate. It looked like she could possibly win. It just didn’t seem possible.  After all, she was the one that left Douglas for another man, tore his heart and life apart, taking his little daughter as well.

Seeing his brother’s interest in Jessie, Nat thought it was time to get to know this beauty, time to nurture a budding relationship. ‘Ah so you’re the artist who’s renting a studio with us?’

‘Psychologist really and I try at art – psychic art that is.’

Dinah interrupted, ‘Come on Jessie. You're well known – sold many paintings in
America
and Europe.’

Jess grimaced. ‘I think they sold mainly because they were portraits of dead relatives. I just hope I get it right.’ 

Nat raised his eyebrows. ‘My brother’s an artist – you two should have a lot in common.’

Douglas  smiled, ‘A thwarted artist. That's why I taught it; oh and history, mainly fifteenth to twenty-first century.’

Changing the subject, Jessie said, ‘I must say this place is beautiful.  I was so amazed when I first saw it.  I mean I know it’s in the brochure but in real life, it is incredible.  I’ve put it on Twitter already.’

Dinah now resting back on George’s shoulder, said, ‘So have I.’

Looking at Nathan, Lucy said, ‘I’m sure I can get my group to tweet it as well. The lake is particularly gorgeous with the lily pads, reeds and bulrushes and then there’re the moorhens, swans; the ducks are cute. I’ve even seen a hummingbird - absolutely beautiful.’ 

Jess turned to Douglas .  ‘Talking of the lake that reminds me, I saw the girl again. You know the one I told you about earlier?  Well, she was standing right by the Mausoleum. I could just see her through the trees.  It was a beautiful shot with the sun streaming through the stained-glass windows onto her hair.  Here, I’ll get it for you.’

Reaching into her bag she took out the small digital camera and switching it on gave it to
Douglas.  
‘There are two, so just stroke across.’

Studying the shot, he scrolled across to see the other, his eyes narrowing. ‘I’m sorry. I can’t see anything. It’s a great picture of the lake and the mausoleum but there’s – no girl.’

Jessie frowned.  ‘That’s peculiar. I’m sure I saw – absolutely sure. I even dreamt of her today.  She is so like the woman in my dreams. In fact, I’ve been dreaming of this couple, for years.  They’re lovers actually, in the nineteenth century.  The girl always looks like me and the guy has your colouring and looks.’

Dinah laughed, ‘So Muriall and Duncan could be you and Douglas in a Past Life.’ Then he’s handsome, this dream lover.’

‘He’s not my lover. Wish he was.’  The words slipped out before she had time to retract them. 

‘Muriall?
Duncan? 
You know their names?’

Remembering his tense reaction earlier to the name of Duncan, Jessie decided to play it down. Her therapist’s intuition told her it was taboo territory, and she would not be pulled in.   ‘I didn’t think it was important – it’s trivial really, just a dream.’

Unaware of Jessie’s deliberate evasion of the subject, Dinah interrupted, ‘Yes, but one that’s been haunting you for years.’ Looking at Douglas, she said, ‘That’s one of the reasons we’re here to find these lovers.’  

Nathan sensing the rising tension, said, ‘Yeah well it’s a well-known rumour, even a legend about them, Duncan drowning himself in the lake and Muriall disappearing.’

Nudging Dinah with her foot, Jessie said, ‘I don’t really know too much about the names or places.’

Douglas tensed looking at Jessie, ‘So, you’ve dreamt of Muriall?’

‘It’s all a bit vague really – I can scarcely visualize Muriall now.’

Sensing Jessie was hedging, Dinah kept quiet.  Something was going on here, an undercurrent.

Trying to smile, Douglas said, ‘Funny you should know the names though.’

Jess gave a short laugh.  ‘I really don’t remember too much about it. You know what dreams are – I usually only recall fragments.’

Douglas  felt his heart slump.  This was getting too close now.  Jessie was referring to actual names, dreams.  What else was to come?  Would she claim some entitlement to the estate? He needed to find out more.  ‘So what were the fragments?’

Dinah frowned. He seemed a really nice guy, so friendly but something was
wrong; his
voice was lower, tighter. Of course, Jess remembered the dream; she’d told her everything over dinner in explicit detail. She was obviously trying to tone down the importance of the lovers, of Muriall, especially. She was trying to hide something.  Why?  Jess nudged her under the table, stopped her saying anything further.  Why hadn’t she said anything? She decided to change the subject about the lovers. ‘You know Muriall is quite a common name in
New York.
So many of the Scots  moved there in the early eighteen hundreds. The Landlords forced thousands of them to emigrate.’

Nat just prayed these two gorgeous girls were not frauds leading up to a claim on the estate. It was too much of a co-incidence that they knew both names. But
,
to be polite he said, ‘We know about that. There’s a museum about an hour’s ride from here.  It gives the history in detail along with early lithographs, videos, newspaper articles, and letters.  It’s harrowing, something you never forget.  The landlords were vicious, so I understand – forced the tenants to the Coast, in the early years many were forced to
emigrate.

To her surprise, she heard Douglas  speak quietly to Jessie, ‘Have you been to the portrait gallery?’

Jessie shook her head, puzzled. ‘No, haven’t had time really.’

‘Oh it’s just that there are portraits of Muriall and Duncan in there.’

Jess felt her stomach sizzle. There was something so wrong here. Douglas really had a thing about these two long dead people.  Was there some ghastly secret he was trying to hide?

Hurriedly, feeling awkwardness, Dinah said, ‘Jessie is a medium you know. She could have picked up their spirits. Maybe they’ll make an appearance.’ She laughed awkwardly. 

‘No I’m not
Dinah; I'm
a psychic artist.  I only draw the spirits. They can’t come through me.’

Hearing the irritation in Jessie’s voice, Douglas breathed deeply from the diaphragm. He had to get a hold of himself.  He really was getting paranoid about people claiming to be the
long-lost 
heir of Duncan and Muriall. He had so much to lose, not only the estate and the hotel but Marnie, his baby.  Her little face loomed before his eyes, those plump rosy cheeks, large dark eyes, and hair curling to her shoulders.

He became aware of the bewilderment in Jessie’s eyes.  What was wrong with him? Here was a lovely young woman, breathing innocence, absolutely gorgeous
,
and he was going on about Muriall and
Duncan
.  He had to stop it, stop the obsessive thoughts. She had no need of money, was a multi-millionaire for God’s sake. Besides, he was deeply attracted to her, wanted to get to know her, wanted his hands on her.  Yet, he couldn’t help himself. ‘So you’ve never read of them then?’

Jessie felt a ripple of irritation, in clipped tones she said, ‘I’ve told you about Duncan, and as Dinah said, Muriall is a familiar name in
America
among the Scots. It’s only a dream though.’

He saw the green eyes flash, a fiery female – went with the hair. So, she wasn’t the vulnerable woman he’d thought. He could sense she was
annoyed,
and he didn’t blame her.  But, he couldn’t explain his irrational behaviour; go into the will and the fraudulent claims – not here, not yet. It would look as if he suspected them.  He would surely lose her before they’d even started.  ‘I’m sorry it’s just that what you’ve said has shaken me. We were not sure that Muriall and Duncan were even lovers.’

Nat murmured, ‘Yeah me too. You see
Jess; Muriall
was purported to be Duncan’s mistress or wife – but no-one really knows, and then you come all the way from
America
and confirm they were in love if not lovers sexually. Well at least you’ve dreamt it. It’s uncanny. Her suite is still here with the original name – the one you are staying in. Well, we presume it to be hers.’

Feeling somewhat mollified with their explanation, she still felt her body shiver. In the dream he called Muriall his little mermaid. ‘You mean I’m staying in the same rooms?’

‘Yeah.  As I said, it had that name painted on it when we moved in, so we kept it.
’
Father O’Reilly swears blind they are Muriall’s old rooms.’

Lucy interrupted, ‘I’ve heard she’s supposed to haunt the Manor.  Father O’Reilly carried out the exorcism to try
to
banish her didn’t he?’

Nat felt his body grow cold, ‘Oh God, he’d told Lucy about the
haunting,
mainly because they’d arrived a couple of days before the exorcism. He saw Douglas’s lips tighten.  Jessie was terrified of ghosts; what the hell would happen now? 

Jess frowned, her hand going to her neck. ‘Haunted?  You mean she actually haunts the Manor
,
  and  I’m staying in her suite? Not bloody likely.’ She glared at
Douglas.

CHAPTER 1
7

August, 1810.

The Lady Brianna Rhonan,

Rhonan Estate.

Cornwall, England.  

My dear Brianna,

Thank you for your most welcome letter. I read and reread it. I am so pleased that little Felicia is pleased with her new doll.  It took Aunt Flavia weeks, stitching and embroidering the tiny clothes.  Then she spent so much time searching for a suitable tea set for her.  The tiny porcelain cups are quite exquisite. Uncle actually grinned when he watched Peters pack Edward's drum and drum sticks. The little hussar uniform was delightful. He must look very handsome in it. Nevertheless, as you say dear Brianna, the money for the toys should have gone to the tenants. Do not feel guilty; there is nothing you could do. However, the money you sent will definitely provide clothes for the impoverished cott
a
rs’ children. I would like to say
toys,
but we need every penny we can get for food. However, I have a thought here; I could raid the attics for some. I know we put so many of our own toys up there over the years.