“Aye, she was the daughter of Laird McKenna,” Archie said. His brogue seemed to get thicker with the telling. “She was supposed to marry Baron Mulvaney, who resided in the castle at the time, but she died tragically before the wedding. It’s said she haunts the castle in her bridal garb to this day.”

A shiver rippled up my spine with icy fingers. We were in a haunted castle. I could not wait to tell Viv.

Mr. Carlton’s face grew cautious and he said, “The Waverly Castle Society doesn’t like the staff to talk about the ghost. They feel it misrepresents the history of the place. I’d appreciate it if you didn’t mention this conversation to anyone.”

I nodded and said, “Of course, we understand completely. Nice to meet you, Mr. Carlton.”

A low grumble in his throat was his only response. Harry and I hurried out of the library without a chance to look around. Darn it.

We were in the bowels of the castle, but Harry must have had some swank ancestors in his family history because he navigated the long corridors, full of antiques and art, as if he were born to it, and we soon found ourselves at the front of the castle. We slipped through the great room, which I barely glanced at, and out the front door.

I was trying to appear casual, but my posture was definitely similar to that of an escaping convict. Harry was much cooler than me. He strode down the steps as if he belonged there. How did he do that? Being an American had my impostor syndrome raging.

Harry took me in his arms for an emphatic kiss and a comforting hug. I could have stayed like that all night. When he released me, he held me by the upper arms, stared into my eyes and said, “I would never tell you what to do, but it occurs to me that you might consider avoiding Archie Carlton and the ‘staff only’ tunnel. And I definitely think you want to avoid doing any ghost hunting.”

“Don’t you worry,” I said. I smoothed his shirt over his shoulders. “I am sufficiently freaked out by the forbidding Scotsman to not venture where I don’t belong.”

The corner of Harry’s lips ticked up. “So, if I speak in a brogue, you might listen to my warnings more?”

I laughed. “I’m more likely to ask you to put on a kilt and let me take advantage of you.”

Harry blew out a breath and his face turned a delightful shade of pink. “You’re something, Scarlett Parker, you know that?”

“So, I’ve been told,” I said. I kissed him quick and released him.

“Be good,” he said.

“Always.”