“Before the Treaty of Union in 1707, the Scots were their own nation and Baron Douglas Mulvaney, the resident of Waverly Castle at the time, decided it was advantageous for himself, a titled landowner, to align himself with one of the more powerful lairds in Scotland through marriage. He offered to marry Laird McKenna’s daughter, giving the laird access to the southern portion of England in exchange for a hefty dowry and a young woman who would bear his children.”

“Seems normal for the times,” Andre said.

“It was,” Dominick said. “Women were a sort of currency back in the day.”

Viv and I emitted low growls in our throats and Dominick smiled. “I agree completely. Also, according to the records, Baron Mulvaney was fifty-three years old at the time whilst his would-be bride Brigit McKenna was at the tender age of fourteen. You can imagine her dismay that he was not exactly a handsome young swain.”

“He was thirty-nine years older? The horror. So, what happened?” I asked. I was impatient to hear the details, not that I believed in the curse, but I was extremely curious.

“Brigit refused to marry the baron,” Dominick said.

“I’m guessing that was frowned upon,” Viv said. She nibbled at a scone with cream.

“It was,” Dominick said. “Along with other unsavory punishments, they locked her in the castle tower until she complied.”

“It’s always the tower,” Andre said. “I’m guessing she didn’t comply.”

“No,” Dominick said. “Instead, she cursed the baron to remain childless his entire life.”

“Fitting,” I said. I liked Brigit’s spunk.

“She also cursed any matrimony that should take place in the castle, stating if a person was forced to marry against their will, may they escape such a fate in death.”

“Well,” Andre said. That was all he said, as if he’d run out of words. I was right there with him. Could Dooney have died because—

No. I shook my head. I didn’t believe in curses. Ghosts, maybe. But not curses, not ones left behind and not from the other side of the veil.

“Which is why my assumption was that if it was the curse that caused the groom—Dooney, did you say?—to pass, then he was the one who didn’t want to marry,” Dominick said.

He calmly helped himself to a finger sandwich as if he hadn’t just told us there was a vengeful ghost haunting the castle that we were presently staying in.

The conversation returned to millinery, and Andre and I listened while Dominick and Viv became best friends for life over their shared passion. I started to get antsy when we’d been gone more than an hour. I did not want our absence noticed.