A few notes for this one. The USS Hornet and crew as described in this story do not exist, but it's a Wasp Class ship (which does exist). There are plenty of images on the internet should anyone wish to look up where the events are taking place or to check the facts I ascribe to her. Today there are media areas rather than a cinema, but I assumed in 1991, without the internet we have today, that simply wasn't an option and an alternative would be provided. References to British food items either hard to come by or not good enough are down to experiences I had living in the northern US in the same time period. The wool store mentioned is real, but the cardigan they sell today isn't an exact match for the one in the show. I have never shopped there so no endorsement should be implied. The wedding dress is a description of a real, Civil War era dress I found on the internet that looked ideal for my purposes. The secret pockets in the Captain's uniform are based on the fact they existed in Union army officer's uniforms, as described. Murphy's is the Eire version of Guinness, and CO2 gassed beers will bite back if you don't treat them with respect (as described). I am absolutely NOT a seaman in any way, shape or form. Consequently, the events that take place in the storm had to be researched and there doesn't seem to be any consistency in people's opinion of how to deal with the conditions I described. I took sections from several different sites and hope I did not make any egregious errors. However, should the reader be rather more informed and see something that is utterly stupid, please let me know what it should say and I will correct it. I am also not American (as my spelling testifies), or a lawyer, so Claymore's claims as to his rights are almost certainly spurious under any state law, but this is Claymore we're talking about and he seems to make things up as he goes along. I ask the reader's indulgence on that one. If you've not read 'Double, Double, Toil and Trouble' you are going to find this one a bit confusing, so you might be well advised to check that one out before you read 'part two', which is what this is.
Characters you recognise belong to 20th Century Fox and R. A. Dick, others are mine and any similarity to persons, spirits, etc. living or dead are entirely coincidental.
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Daniel Gregg's insistence on 19th century protocol was going to drive Carolyn Muir out of her mind. Since he permanently took over the body of Sean Callahan – with the latter's blessing – he had danced with her, kissed her, swept her off her feet but stubbornly refused to share a bedroom with her until they were married.
"You know, things have changed since your day," she insisted as he paced the room. "It's the 1990's, not the 1860's. It's perfectly acceptable for a couple to sleep together before marriage. It's positively encouraged in some quarters to ensure physical compatibility."
He paused and stared at her. "Madam!"
"Carolyn, remember?" she answered with a smile, watching his reflection in the mirror as she brushed her hair. "You can call me that, now."
His shoulders dropped and a rueful smile crossed his face. "Carolyn, I understand things have changed, but I have not. The only women who slept with men outside marriage in my day were ladies of the night. I cannot, I will not treat you as such."
"I'm not suggesting you do, just…relax a little."
"I am perfectly relaxed!" he insisted, the tension across his shoulders and in his voice belying his claim.
"Uh huh. Tell that to your face."
"There are certain things that are simply not done. They are…disrespectful." Folding his arms his seemed to think that ended the discussion. It didn't.
"Daniel, I promise, I would not feel disrespected in the slightest."
Shaking his head he returned to his pacing. "You seem to forget I have over 150 years of training and habit when it comes to how to treat a woman." He paused and rounded on her, leaning over the chair in which she sat. "Imagine if you suddenly found yourself in my time and had to behave as a lady then. Would you fare any better?"
She thought for a moment, remembering what she had read of how women of any standing above working class were mostly seen as ornaments to be revered, but denied their own opinions or rights to be heard. "No, I guess I wouldn't. Still, plenty of men weren't so stiff about it."
"I am NOT 'stiff'!"
"That could be taken in more than one way," she chuckled.
"Madam!"
"Why Captain," she said, turning to face him, "I believe you're blushing!"
"Why you… I don't…Women! Why do you have to be so… infernally female about it?!"
"I thought you liked female women?"
He threw his hands up in the air, completely at a loss.
"We can discuss this later," she placated, realising there was no point in continuing when he was in this mood. Finally getting a body hadn't improved his temper. She pointed to the paperwork on her desk.
Since the Captain and the spirits of the castle had managed to remove the ancient ghost that had caused murder and mayhem for hundreds of years, Carolyn and Daniel – the latter having to do so under the name of Sean Callahan – had been working to sort out the castle affairs so they could go back to Gull Cottage. An Taisce, the Irish National Trust, had been disbelieving when the Captain, as Sean, had telephoned and told them he wanted to sell the castle to them. When he had explained he was getting married and moving to America they had been thrilled and a representative had arrived the very next day. Today, another hurdle had to be overcome.
"He'll be here in an hour. How are you going to explain your sudden recovery?"
"A miracle?"
"He'll want to run tests and put you through the wringer."
Sean Callahan had been dying of cancer when Mrs Muir arrived less than a week before. Thanks to some magical intervention, the body was now free of it and looking twenty years younger, as well as holding a different occupant.
The Captain indicated his face. "This might take a bit of explaining, too. However…" He closed his eyes and focussed. In moments he transformed to the way Sean had looked when they first arrived.
Carolyn leapt to her feet. "Daniel, are you all right?"
Instantly he was restored to his former appearance. "Merely an illusion. I take it from your reaction, a convincing one."
She shuddered. "Horribly so." She placed her hand on his cheek, feeling the softness of his neatly trimmed beard. "I much prefer this face."
"As do I," he replied, his voice a gentle rumble as his fingers lightly brushed across her restored features. "You look just as I remember you when you first came to Gull Cottage. But," he continued in a firmer voice, "we had better accustom ourselves to a different look, at least until we can explain away our apparent youth."
He guided her to a floor length mirror that stood in the corner of the castle's master bedroom. While he wouldn't stay there overnight, now they were dealing with the day he had no more trouble occupying it than he did his cabin at Gull Cottage.
Putting his arm around her he pointed her to the mirror. "Remember, it's just an illusion. Inside we will still be ourselves, but we don't have to look exactly as we did. Some graceful ageing, perhaps?"
As she watched, their faces and bodies changed in the mirror, reflecting advancing years. It was somewhat disconcerting, but when she looked up at Daniel by her side his face remained the same as it always had. He smiled down at her. "We will see each other as we really are. The outside world as we wish to present ourselves."
"What about when we're apart? This is your power, not mine. Can you keep this up when we're not together?"
"I plan on being by your side for the rest of our lives," he assured her, gallantly.
"That's a lovely sentiment, Daniel, but I don't think you'll want to sit next to me at the hairdressers for an hour, or stand outside."
"I hadn't thought of that," he admitted, stroking his beard, "but no matter. So long as I will it, the illusion will remain provided we are within a reasonable distance of each other. Probably about 5 miles, perhaps more although I have yet to test it."
"I thought you said it was a strain?"
He waved his hand. "Not so bad. I've been practising. It seems it's like a muscle. The more you exercise it, the stronger it gets, and you know, I was the strongest man in New England and a very powerful spirit."
"A modest one, too," she grinned. "What about when you sleep?"
"There, I will admit, you have me. We will just have to ensure the door is locked so none can wander in and discover our secret." He indicated the mirror. "What do you think?"
She looked at their reflections. Greying hair and lined faces looked back at her. She put her head to one side, noting one difference. "The eyes. They still look young."
"The eyes are the windows of the soul. There is nothing I can do to change them."
"I think I've got fewer lines than I had when we first arrived."
"A minor liberty. Do you mind?"
She smiled. "No. I think we can get away with that."
He looked at his watch – a necessity he had never considered before, but the modern world didn't allow for the relaxed schedule he had adhered to in the past. "We had best go downstairs. I will admit, I'll be a lot happier when we get back to Gull Cottage. This castle is too big and there was a fierce draft in my bedroom last night."
"That was probably Sean or possibly Rowena trying to persuade you to drop your chivalrous 19th century mores."
"Another reason I cannot wait to leave," he replied, holding the door open for her. "At least back in Gull Cottage it will be just the two of us."
As they entered the Great Hall they saw a breakfast spread fit for a king. "What the…? Sean!"
The spirit in question materialised. "You bellowed?" he asked sweetly.
"What in blazes are you doing, man? The pill-roller will be here shortly. If he sees this he'll know something is up."
"Ya still have time." The Irishman replied calmly, "and Rowena worked hard. The least ya can do is thank her by enjoying it."
Rowena walked through the wall, shaking her head. "It was his idea, Captain, but he's right. We can watch out for the doctor while ye eat some breakfast. This can be cleared away in a second."
"Oh, Maria would love you," Carolyn replied, helping herself to coffee. She took a sip and sighed. "Rowena, this is the best cup of coffee I've ever had. How did you manage it?"
"Sean was quite particular when he was alive. There are beans and a machine in the kitchen."
"I'll have to grab some of those before we go."
The Captain had helped himself to a 'full English' breakfast, liberally enhanced with Worcestershire sauce. At the first mouthful he let loose a groan of delight. "Magnificent! Something else to add to your shopping list, my dear. Trying to get this," and he held up the bottle of Lea and Perrins, "in America is next to impossible. I remember the first time I tasted it. I was in Liverpool in 1865. The war was over and the last Confederate ship, the CSS Shenandoah, had surrendered in those docks the day before. I knew when I returned home I'd be leaving the navy and was thinking about what I would do with my life. One taste of this and I knew a merchant ship, bringing the best of the old and new worlds together, would be my career."
Carolyn picked up the bottle and sniffed it. "What do you do with it? I mean, apart from drown your eggs and bacon?"
"Stews, meat pies, soups, any number of things. It should be in every pantry." He stuffed another forkful in his mouth, an expression of bliss on his face, then washed it down with a cup of tea. "And some decent tea. Why, in this age of international travel at the drop of a hat, the only tea you can get in America tastes like weak bilge water I have no idea."
"Well, once the sale goes through we'll have enough money to buy whatever you want. Sounds like we might have to invest in a shipping line!"
"Now that's not a bad idea," the Captain replied thoughtfully. "After all, I have to do something. Sean Callahan may be a writer in Ireland, but in America I have the feeling he might be changing his focus. One writer in the family is more than enough, and what I don't know about shipping you could fit into an oyster and still have room left for the pearl."
"What you know about shipping in the 19th century. Things have changed a bit," Carolyn observed, tucking into her own breakfast. "Besides, you're a very good writer."
"Thank you," he smiled, "but I have kept up with developments ever since that sorry excuse for a barnacle Blair put in an appearance in that motorised dinghy of his."
"It's certainly worth thinking about. But Captain, does this mean I'm going to be alone at Gull Cottage while you roam the seas again?" There was a wistful note in her voice.
He shook his head, quick to assuage her fear. "I think we may have our own yacht we can sail together, but my days of being gone from home for months at a time are long behind me. Don't forget, before I had little reason to come home. Sailing the high seas wasn't just my career, it was a distraction. Now I have every reason to stay ashore." He reached over and squeezed her hand.
"It's going to be strange, having money and a husband again. Not that we were that wealthy when Bobby was alive, but it was a lot more stable than the last twenty odd years."
"Some wise investments and Candy and Jonathan will be set for life… and, perhaps, our own child?"
She choked on her coffee. "Captain, we may be able to do it, but don't you think it would look strange if a post-menopausal woman suddenly gets pregnant?"
"Post meno-what?"
"I've passed the age of having children, Captain. There are limits, you know. I went through that last year."
"Yes, but now…" he waved his hand at her, indicating her restored youth.
"Watch out!" yelled Sean from his position floating by the main window that overlooked the drive. "The doctor's coming up to the gate."
In an instant the breakfast vanished and the table was cleared. In front of the Captain was a bowl of something unidentifiable. "What in blazes…?"
"That's all I could manage towards the end," Sean informed him, floating down to the ground. "Got to keep up appearances. Mind, if I were you, I wouldn't touch it."
The Captain sniffed the bowl and pulled a face, placing it firmly away from him. "I'm inclined to agree. And what is this?" he added, pointing to the contents of his cup.
"A wee dram to deal with the pain. The doctor doesn't approve but I always had it when he visited."
"At breakfast?"
Sean shrugged. "Pain doesn't go away according to the time of day."
The Captain opened the massive pill container that had also appeared, marked with days and times. "How many of these were you supposed to take?"
"They're all marked, but ya needn't worry. They look the same but I made sure they're nothing but sugar pills. The stuff I was on would kill ya." He stood next to the Captain as a loud rapping was heard at the door. "I was terrible for takin' them, so the doctor'll be surprised if you've done it before he arrives. Just make a show of it for him."
"Hmm. Carolyn?" Carolyn paused en route to the door. "I'll have to change and I know it disturbed you before. Perhaps you might want to stay outside until the doctor leaves."
"I thought you said we'd see each other as we really are."
"For the ageing, yes, but this is a whole body transformation. I won't fool a doctor unless I go all out."
"So long as you can restore yourself afterwards I'll manage. After all, I managed before."
"I saw you in your room when you first arrived. I know how it made you feel," he said softly.
Sean turned smartly. "Did I upset ya?" When she had to give an ashamed nod he shook his head. "I'm sorry, me darlin'. I'd forgotten how bad it was towards the end."
"I guess I wasn't ready for it. I'll be all right this time."
Another rap at the door and Carolyn went to answer it. Closing his eyes the Captain focussed deeply and morphed himself into Sean's cancer-ridden appearance. After a moment's thought he made some tweaks and then waited. When Carolyn walked in with the doctor she paused at the door, her face showing her struggle. He gave her a small smile and a wink and she recovered.
"Dr Carlisle here to see you, Sean."
"Thank ya, me darlin'," he smiled, easily switching accents. He turned to the doctor but, mindful of Sean's illness, kept his seat. "Doctor."
"Good morning, Sean. And how are you feeling today? Have you reconsidered my suggestion that you go into a hospice?"
"He wants ya to move to a care home," Sean said helpfully. "I told him to get lost."
The Captain narrowed his eyes at the doctor. "This castle is me home. I'm stayin'," he replied firmly. "In any case, I feel a wee bit better today."
"Cancer can do that, sometimes. Good days and bad days. We'll do your blood tests and see what the lab says, eh?" He eyed the cup. "I see you're still using your own medication rather than the ones prescribed."
"Can ya blame me?" he replied, picking up the cup and sipping. It was strong and quite rough for an Irish whiskey and the Captain had to fight not to choke on it. Luckily the resultant coughing fit was entirely appropriate for someone in his condition.
"All right, shirt off," the doctor said when the Captain had managed to calm his cough. He turned to Carolyn. "Could you leave us for a minute?"
"Of course. I'll be outside in the gardens D…dearest Sean."
The Captain gave her a subtle grin behind the doctor's back at her recovery and then waited until she'd left before undoing his shirt buttons.
"A charming lady. Is that the Carolyn Muir you told me about?" the doctor asked, beckoning to a couch at the side of the room.
"Aye, she's visiting from America." Removing his shirt with feigned difficulty, the Captain shuffled over to the couch, obeying the doctor's instructions to breathe in and out and then lying down as the man tapped and prodded.
"Hmm, the liver infection doesn't seem as bad as it was. Surprising, given the gut rot you're making it cope with."
"Told ya I was feelin' better."
"Let's take some blood and check. Hold out your arm." While the doctor rummaged in his bag for the appropriate needles and containers, the Captain peered at Sean who held out his left arm, palm upwards and pointed to the inside of his elbow. He promptly followed suit. The doctor fitted a strap and tightened it, then tapped a few times where Sean had indicated. "Hmm. Interesting. The veins seem to have repaired themselves rather better than usual."
Sean slapped his forehead and the Captain shrugged. "As I said…"
"You're feeling better. I know." He removed the protective cover from the syringe's needle and positioned it. "Small pinprick," he said before pressing it home. "Got it first time. Won't take a minute." He swapped tubes until he had several filled with blood, then removed the needle and put some cotton wool on the spot. "Hold that there firmly while I put these away." The Captain rolled his eyes at the fuss over such a tiny hole, but did as he was told. Behind the doctor's back Sean pointed to the bottles with a questioning look. The Captain winked at him and shook his head. The doctor tore off some tape and put it over the cotton. "Leave that on there for at least an hour. Now, do you want a morphine injection to kill the pain?"
"No, not today. Maybe next time."
The doctor raised his eyebrows. "You really are feeling good today. Well, all right. I won't be back until next week when we get the results of the blood tests. Are you sure you can cope until then?"
"If I can't I can give you a call."
"You'll manage better if you take your medication. You can put your shirt back on. How's the rest of you? Waterworks OK?"
The Captain frowned and Sean chuckled. "He means can ya pee. Tell him yes."
"Yes, everything there is fine."
"And the other side? I remember the medication was causing some upset before."
The expression on the Captain's face was priceless and Sean struggled not to burst out laughing. "A dose of the runs. Nothin' ya can't cope with."
The Captain repeated Sean's comment with some distaste and the doctor nodded. "I'm afraid it's the price we pay for the medicine. Now, let's see you take those pills. I'll get some water from the kitchen. Don't drink any more of that rubbish! If you must use whiskey as a pain-reliever, the least you could do as a good Irishman is get something decent. I'll be right back."
Once the doctor was out of sight the Captain quickly did up his shirt and tucked it in, relocating himself to the table.
"What about the blood tests?" Sean asked.
"Miracle cures that happen over-night tend to cause problems. I toned down the results. I did some research knowing the doctor would be visiting. It's a good thing you managed to find your last tests. They will find a small but significant reduction in the markers."
"Sure, but you are a wiley one, Captain Gregg!" Sean said admiringly.
"Years of practice," the Captain replied, schooling his features when the doctor re-entered the room.
"Here you go. Down the hatch."
The Captain swallowed the mass of pills. "I should rattle," he commented.
"Everyone says that. Now," and Carlisle sat back, "how about in yourself? I imagine having Mrs Muir visiting has done you the power of good."
The Captain smiled easily. "She has," he agreed. "Having her around has made all the difference in the world."
"Isn't that the truth?" Sean commented.
"She seems quite taken with you."
"We've known each other a long time and collaborated on work. She did some extra research for me for the Great Ghost Gregg."
"Now there's a man I would have liked to meet, man or ghost. He sounds like quite a character in your book. Brave, fiercely protective, loyal, quite the charmer but honourable with it. We could do with more like him, 'though perhaps without the… what did you call them? Temper squalls? In any case, if it really is possible for people to carry on after they die, knowing that would be a great boon. I think it's the not-knowing what happens next that makes death so terrifying."
The Captain smiled, pleased with the doctor's assessment of his character. "All I can tell ya is the Great Ghost Gregg had a fine old time with me. Death holds no fear for me now."
"Good. That's good. Well, you've beaten the odds for so long now I hesitate to even make an educated guess. I'll know better once the blood tests come back. Who knows? Miracles do happen."
"Speaking of which…" the Captain began.
"Hmm?"
"Carolyn was telling me she was beyond childbearing age."
"How old is she?"
"Mid-fifties."
"Usually hits around that time, though some still get pregnant in their sixties. It's a strain on their body, of course, and most don't come to term. Why, were you planning on leaving a last-minute heir?" The doctor grinned. "I admire your positivity."
The Captain wasn't used to doctors like this. The pill-rollers and bone-saws of his day were arrogant and often ignorant, best avoided except in dire need. This man had detected all the clues the Captain had left for him in seconds, was quietly efficient, allowed for human frailty and took time to check on more than just the physical. If this was an example of how medicine had changed he might have to reassess his opinion of the profession.
"It's not impossible," the Captain replied, carefully. "Once you get the results back we can talk. If they're as good as I think they'll be, then I've a new life opening up for me."
"Oh?"
"I'm thinkin' of moving to America."
The doctor raised his eyebrows. "I'd hold hard on that for a bit. Medicine in America is a lot more expensive than it is over here. Right now you're covered by the National Health Service because you have cancer. Over there you'll have to pay for everything and these drugs," he tapped the pill box, "don't come cheap. I'm not going to dampen your mood, but you've been fighting this for two years. That you've lasted so long is a miracle in itself. At the start I'd've given you six months at the outside and you've blown that out of the water. Unfortunately, I must tell you that at this late stage the chances of recovery are practically non-existent. That's not to say miracles don't occur, but I wouldn't make any long-term plans just yet. Let's wait and see, eh?"
"Want some easy money?" Sean commented. "Ask him to put a bet on it."
"Mrs Muir said she'd gone out into the gardens, I believe?"
The Captain nodded, doing up his cuff. "Why?"
"Do you mind if I go and have a word with her? I take it she'll be staying here for a while?"
"So long as I'm here, she'll be here."
"If she's going to be looking after you she probably needs some guidance. She's not from round here, so I'll quickly cover the bases with her. I could still send you a nurse if you want?"
"No, I'm happy with Carolyn, thank you."
"All right. Can I leave my bag here?" When the Captain nodded the doctor headed out the back door.
"He's familiar with the place," the Captain observed to Sean once the door was closed.
"Been me doctor since before the cancer hit. We've taken many a walk in the grounds in the past."
"I wonder what he wants to say to Carolyn?"
"Mrs Muir!"
Carolyn turned to see the doctor walking smartly towards her. "Doctor? Is something wrong?" She felt panicked. Although she knew Daniel was just giving the appearance of severe illness, the doctor's hurry seemed to suggest something else had happened.
He smiled. "No, I just like to take the exercise where I can. Can I talk to you for a minute?"
"Of course."
Side by side they walked through the landscaped gardens.
"Unusual, you know, to have such extensive landscaping by such an old castle," he said by way of small talk.
"I gather it was the previous owner. I think he must have had quite the romantic streak," Carolyn replied.
"Hmm, not that I'm complaining. Many a time I've walked here with Sean. Rather relaxing."
She nodded and waited. When the doctor seemed disinclined to continue she prodded him. "You wanted to talk to me?"
"Yes, I'm just having a hard time deciding how to say it."
"Straight out tends to work best, in my experience."
"Very well. You know he's dying?"
"So he told me."
"And you know lung cancer is a particularly nasty one?" She nodded, wondering where he was going with this. "He seems utterly convinced he'll be moving to America."
"Well, it's all right to let him dream, isn't it?"
"Perhaps, but the let down when things don't go well can be devastating. What I'm saying is you might want to put the brakes on him a bit."
She turned to him. "Doctor Carlisle, I've known Sean for over twenty years. In all that time I've never known anyone to 'put the brakes on him' as you put it." That was true. Substitute Daniel for Sean and the doctor didn't know how true.
"I'm concerned there might be a relapse."
"Well, if it happens, it happens. We'll deal with it if it comes."
"I must say, you're remarkably sanguine. Most people are in rather more of a state when someone they care about is close to dying."
"Don't think I don't care, doctor, it's just I have a feeling things aren't quite as bad as you believe."
"Mrs Muir…"
"Doctor Carlisle, I appreciate your concern, really I do, but how about we wait for the tests to come back? If things look bleak then we can discuss it, but over the last two weeks he has rallied in ways that are quite remarkable." Actually, it was more over the past five days, but she knew the doctor hadn't seen Sean for two weeks so she stretched the point.
He raised an eyebrow. "Do you have some kind of magic wand? I will admit he does seem better, but cancer can be funny that way. Apparent recovery can be followed by a relapse that hits twice as hard."
"I know." She'd seen what had happened to Martha. The whole idea of a similar disease taking Daniel was unbearable. "I lost a very dear friend to it."
"Are you all right?"
"I will be." I'll be just fine when we can end this charade and get back to living.
"You know he asked about having children with you?"
She laughed. "Well, it's a positive mind-set, you have to give him that."
"I should point out that even if you've hit the menopause it's still possible to get pregnant for a while."
"Thanks for the warning. I'll keep it in mind." Not that there's the slightest chance at the moment she added to herself.
"He obviously loves you, even if he doesn't say it. You have it within your power to make things easier for him. If you need any help with Sean…" He pulled out a leaflet and handed it to her, "these are the contact details for the hospital, doctors and emergency services." He pulled out a second one. "These are for you. People you can talk to if things get too much and you need to vent. They're good people, all of whom have had to deal with this personally at one time or another. They volunteer to help others and they can offer an understanding ear, a cup of tea or practical help if you need it." When she tried to wave it aside he pushed the leaflet into her hand. "They want to help. You don't have to feel guilty calling them. At least… keep it somewhere safe, just in case."
Carolyn felt a terrible fraud. She knew Daniel would be fine, while the people who used these services were facing a certain, painful end and without her awareness of the possibility of life after death. That others who had already dealt with this nightmare would offer their support and counsel, even though it would surely remind them constantly of what they had lost, said a lot for them. She felt tears welling up, not because of her situation but because of theirs.
The doctor, clearly accustomed to emotional roller coasters, pulled a packet of tissues from his pocket and handed them over.
"I'm sorry," she whispered.
"That's quite all right. It's to be expected." When she tried to hand the packet back he shook his head. "Keep them. I always carry spares."
She gave a half laugh. "I can imagine." Once she'd wiped her eyes a thought came to her. "You say they're volunteers. How is this financed? Even if they work for free there must be telephones, use of cars, leaflets like this..."
"Oh, lots of ways. Parish council support, charity boxes in the pubs and shops, bake sales and coffee mornings, standing on street corners, and in supermarkets when it's wet. We also get bequests from time to time. Unfortunately, for a lot of people, once their loved one has died they don't want to be reminded of it and they cut all ties."
"Well," she replied, clearing her throat. "That won't happen here, I promise you."
"Mrs Muir, that's not why I came out here today…"
"I know it wasn't," she replied quickly, "but I want you to know… We'll make sure there's some money sent to support you, whatever happens."
"Then that's very kind of you, but I won't expect it. The main thing is that you have the numbers. Day or night, if you need help, please call." He looked at his watch. "Now, I'd better get back. I'm afraid I have a few other patients who aren't feeling as good as Sean today and I'd best get to them."
"Of course. Go, please!"
"Are you sure you're all right?"
"I'm fine, really. Go. They need you more than we do at the moment."
He patted her hand gently and headed back to the castle. A little while later she heard his car drive away. The Captain, now looking his old self, came out into the garden to find her. When he did she was sitting by the fountain, staring into the water, her make-up smeared from her tears.
"Carolyn? What's wrong?"
"I can't keep this up! Isn't there some way we can get this recovery over faster so we're not getting in these people's way? Dr Carlisle has two other patients to see and they ARE dying. He shouldn't have to come out here for you when we know you're going to be fine."
He quietly sat beside her. "My dear, I understand, truly I do, but think what would happen if I was suddenly well again. People would think a miracle had occurred and yes, it has, but not one that can be repeated. We can't give them false hope. Back in Schooner Bay thirty years ago I could have easily manipulated the memories of the town to forget certain things and none would be the wiser. Here, today, those blood samples will be sent off to a hospital somewhere, records are kept all over the place… I cannot change so much. If I could, believe me I would. I am moving this as fast as I can. Any faster and we'll have people coming here looking for a cure we cannot provide. It would only cause them more pain at a time when that is the last thing they need."
She nodded. "I know, I know. I just… I feel we're taking advantage."
"Perhaps we can make it up to them when this is all over."
"I was thinking about that…" and she told him about the volunteers. Daniel listened, putting his arm around her when she found herself welling up again. "I'm sorry, I don't know why I'm crying. I'm one of the lucky ones."
"You're crying because you're a caring and compassionate woman who can put herself easily in someone else's shoes. And because you have been through this, with Martha."
She grunted, the tears coming heavily now as she remembered her housekeeper, friend and ally. Daniel held her tightly, quietly supporting her until she had vented. She'd gone through all the tissues in the packet by the end and was still sniffing.
"For goodness sake, look at me. This is ridiculous. I haven't even got any tissues left!"
"Then it's a good thing I carry a spare handkerchief," and he handed it to her.
She blew her nose and then laughed. "Did you do that before?"
"Would have been of little use. Spectral handkerchiefs only work for other spirits and we are not prone to tears."
"Did you never cry as a spirit?"
"I did, once or twice. Mostly I vented through anger. The important thing is to get the emotion out, and tears are less likely to hurt others. I was not so considerate as you."
"It's easier to get mad."
"Aye, it is that." When she'd sorted herself out he stood and offered his hand to help her to her feet.
"I'm younger than I look, you know. I can stand up."
"My dear, you look beautiful, and I was merely being a gentleman. As for the other thing," he added as they walked, his arm across her shoulders and hers around his waist, "I agree with you. With the money from the castle there'll be plenty left over to support that worthy cause. However, I suggest we do it anonymously."
"I want Dr Carlisle to know I didn't break my promise."
"Then we will tell him, but no one else."
A week later, when the doctor returned delighted to report the tests showed some remission, the Captain merely smiled and said, "I told ya so."
"Whatever it is you're doing, keep it up."
The Captain patted Carolyn's hand where it rested on his shoulder. "I intend to."
"Mrs Muir, you're a wonder."
"I keep tellin' her that," he agreed.
Carolyn demurred. "Sean's doing all the hard work. I just hold his hand."
Doctor Carlisle looked Sean up and down. "And you look even better still. I know we only did a blood test last week, but would you mind if we did another one?" When the Captain frowned he added, "At the very least it will allow us to confirm the previous results. I'm sure they're correct – just looking at you is proof enough of that – but it never hurts to check."
With a shrug the Captain rolled up his sleeve and as the doctor grabbed stuff from his bag he focussed internally, making a few more minor tweaks to ensure a steady improvement was recorded.
This went on for another five weeks until the doctor announced he was in full remission. This time the Captain had greeted Doctor Carlisle outside the wicket gate and he clapped him on the back as the doctor read off the results.
"Told ya! So, d'ya think movin' to America is now acceptable?" He waved at Carolyn who had pulled up after the doctor from a food shopping trip.
Carlisle shook his head in wonder. "Sean, seems to me you can do whatever you want. So, when's the happy day?" he added, watching Carolyn as she collected bags from the car and headed towards them. The Captain stepped forward to help.
"The sooner the better!" Carolyn replied, having heard that last comment. Putting the shopping bags on the ground she linked her arm through her fiancé's. "This old-fashioned idiot is determined there'll be no extra-curricular activities until we're properly married."
The doctor looked at the Captain in shock. "Sean? This must be serious. You never needed a piece of paper before, as I recall."
The Captain cleared his throat. "There's a difference between temporary company and the person you want to spend the rest of your life with," he insisted gruffly.
"Now Sean," she said, the slight emphasis on the name a reminder to the Captain of who he was supposed to be and to stay in character. "There's no need to feel uncomfortable. I know you've had many ladies in your past." That went for both Sean and the Captain as she well knew. "I'm just glad I'm the last one!"
"In this life and for all that lies beyond, whether it be on the earth below or in heaven above, I neither want nor need any other but you," he whispered, his focus completely on her.
"Always the poet, Sean," the doctor observed with a grin. "So, will you be getting married here or in the States?"
"I've been thinkin' about that," the Captain replied. "It'll be a while yet before we can get all our affairs in order, and I will admit I'm as loathe to wait as my future wife." He turned to her. "Don't you think the children would enjoy a wedding at a real castle?"
"I'm sure they'd love it, but it's not going to be easy for Jonathan to get leave." At the doctor's curious look, she explained. "Jonathan, my son by my first marriage, is a Commander aboard a navy ship. I think he's presently in the Mediterranean."
"So long as he's not on manoeuvres I'm sure his Captain can be persuaded for so important an occasion… and I might be able to pull some strings there," the Captain replied.
"Oh?" the doctor said, curious. "I didn't know you had naval connections."
The Captain waved a dismissive hand, quickly fishing around for an explanation, "the Captain Gregg story attracted quite a bit of attention from seamen around the world."
"Nice catch," Carolyn muttered.
"Well, I hope I get to see the event."
"Doctor, of course you're invited," she quickly reassured. "We couldn't have it without you!"
"Isn't that the truth of it?" the Captain replied, winking at his fiancée. With that he collected the shopping bags and ushered them all into the Great Hall for some afternoon tea.
"Ya needn't worry yourself," Sean assured him after the doctor had left. "I'll make sure Jonathan gets here. From the sounds of things he's well on his way to the admiral's position."
"Oh no," the Captain said, shaking his head. "He's no pen-pusher. If the lad's any sense, once he gets his own command he'll stay there."
"But that will be his decision, Daniel, not yours," Carolyn insisted, giving him a sharp look.
"Of course."
"I called the church," she continued. "They're happy to accommodate us since you're a local. There's some paperwork I have to complete and the usual for both of us but there shouldn't be any problem."
"There'd better not be," the Captain growled, looking at Sean.
"It'll be smooth sailin', I guarantee it," the latter smiled. "You name the day and I'll get to work on getting ya son some shore leave."
