The Haunting - Chapter 13


Fall 1892


He had always found the onset of autumn a magical time of the year. It was fascinating watching the trees change colors, from green to browns, yellows, and oranges. It was a time of change, and change was always interesting. However, this particular autumn was going to prove to be rather challenging for the lawyer turned author Richard Castle. Jameson Rook's Improbable Guide to Other Realms, the sequel to the popular, bestseller, Jameson Rook's Fantastical Guide to the World of the Unexplained, was set for release, and Black Pawn Publishing wanted Castle to embark on a tour to promote the book, and to do some readings and signings with his ever growing base of admirers.

The reason for Richard Castle's anxiety and uncertainty over the trip stemmed from a beautiful and charming spirit, whom he had a rather unorthodox romance with. Consenting to the book tour would mean leaving the brownstone—in essence, leaving her—for almost half a year, while he traveled across the country to attend various events to promote the supernatural love story of the intrepid reporter Jameson Rook and his ghostly love, Nicole. It was not a prospect with which Castle found very agreeable. He loathed the very notion of being separated from her.

Katherine Houghton Beckett was everything Castle had ever wanted in a woman—beauty, intellect, and a rapier wit that kept him on his toes. The only problem was she was dead. Needless to say, it was undeniably difficult to have a relationship with someone who was deceased. To many the mere idea would be unfathomable, if not also a little insane. Despite that, Castle had no regrets falling in love with the ghostly beauty, but it was one area of their relationship that he struggled with.

He loved Katherine with all his heart and soul, and he would never complain about what little they could share. But he was still human, with human needs and desires. He still craved the warmth of another body beside his at night. Miss Gina Cowell had been the only other woman whom he had had any sort of romantic relationship with in the past two years. However, it had been different with her. Miss Cowell was the daughter of a wealthy and influential shipping magnate, part of the social elite, and she had had a reputation to maintain. Even if she did express the desire for physical intimacy, she had always held back, only allowing his hand to wander on occasion, but never letting it stray too far.

Castle wanted so much more with Katherine. There was still a tiny part of him that questioned his sanity when it came to this relationship with a woman from beyond the veil. Despite the intense and passionate kisses and embraces they had managed to share when Katherine could manifest herself into the realm of the living, they could never really do what others did.

Two weeks ago, while visiting Constable Kevin Ryan at the precinct to check on any new leads into Katherine's murder, Castle learned the young Irishman and his wife, Jennifer O'Malley, were expecting. The child was due in the Spring. Castle was happy for his friends, and he took them out to one of New York's more prestigious restaurants to celebrate. But afterwards, he could not help but feel envious. He would give anything to have the same with Katherine. But that was impossible. It was not even something worth dreaming of, because it was something that could never be. She must have sensed his mood when he had returned home from the festivities, and had then decided it was best not to disturb him, because he had gone to bed that night without so much of a glimpse of his ghostly ladylove.

As a result, their relationship had become somewhat strained. It was unintentional, but unavoidable, as the realities of the world began to sink in. And now, Castle found himself preparing to depart on a six-month journey across North America to promote his book, a voyage that would part him from the woman he loved for longer than they had ever been separated before.

That afternoon, he entered the brownstone with some trepidation, still uncertain how to broach the subject with Katherine. He suspected that she knew something was amiss. Their conversations over the last few weeks had been brief and stilted. Even their romantic embraces had seemed affected by the cloud of reality that hung over them. He wished with all his heart that things could just return to normal. But even for them, 'normal' was a relative term.

He sighed, and removed his hat and coat, slowly placing them on the hooks by the door, before cautiously stepping out of the foyer and into the study, where he would usually find Katherine nowadays. He could still vividly remember the first time he had returned home to find an opened book hovering above the divan, as if an invisible person were holding the book up as they reclined against the backrest. Katherine loved to read. She was insatiable. And she was ever so appreciative of the fact he was willing to purchase a vast quantity of books for her to consume. The study had become a monument to the written word, with towers and columns of books stack high and low, a literal forest of books.

But this today, when he wandered into the study, he found the room oddly empty. Though that was how it appeared most of the time, even when Katherine was there, Castle knew immediately that upon this afternoon the room really was empty. It lacked the special feeling of her presence. He called out her name, wondering if perhaps she was haunting some other room, but alas got no response. He searched the upstairs rooms, and lingered in her bedroom when he could find no trace of hers. Eventually he gave up, figuring he had upset her with his aloofness and she was avoiding him, literally giving him the cold shoulder.

Castle ventured into his office, intent on writing a letter to Katherine, explaining his impending departure. He would never really give the letter to her, because that was not what it was for. For him, it was a method he sometimes employed when he needed to get his thoughts out before having the actual conversation. But when Castle walked dover to his desk, he was surprised to find a note, written in her elegant handwriting, awaiting him on the desktop.

She had never written him a letter this long. It was almost disconcerting. His heart fluttered with dread as he picked the letter up in trembling hands. There were some smudges in the ink, as if from tears, and he touched the smears with reverence, absently wondering how her tears had managed to become corporal, contact and soak into the paper as she had written it. He heaved in a deep breath, and dropped down into his seat, holding the parchment up in his hands, tilting slightly to catch the light of the oil lamp sitting on his desk. His brow furrowed in confusion when he read the note. He had to read it several times before it sunk in.

Dearest Richard,

Knowing you has been the greatest thing to have happened to me—in life and in death. I never thought such joy was possible. You proved me wrong. You have been my shining light in a world of darkness. You repaired that which I did not think could be mended.

However, over the last month, a dawning realization has come to me. Things have become strained. And I know why. You are not as good a liar as you think you are, my love. I do not blame you. It is just how it is. How it must be. Our time together has been unforgettable, but as with all good things, it must end.

I cannot continue to torture you with hope when there is none. It would be selfish of me to do so. It pains me greatly, but we can never truly have what we both want. For your own sake, I must leave. If you are to find any semblance of happiness in this world… it cannot be with me. I am but a shade, a pale shadow of what I once was.

I do not regret loving you. I never will. However, we both knew that this was just a dream. It could never be. I am sorry, Richard. So very sorry. I do not seek your forgiveness for leaving you like this, as I do not deserve it. My only hope is that in time you will understand.

I love you, Richard Edgar Castle, with all my heart and soul. Perhaps we shall meet again in another life.

Forever Yours, Katherine Houghton Beckett.

Castle heaved in a gasping sob. He could not believe it. However, it explained a few things. Not counting their awkward conversations and embraces, Katherine had been acting strangely for the last couple of weeks, as if she was hiding something from him. He had been worried that his melancholy reaction to the Ryans' joy had somehow infected his relationship with her. Occasionally he had been concerned that something had happened to change her feelings, or that something on the other side had been calling to her. He had never intended to make her feel any form of guilt over the fact they could never really have what his friends had. Tears leaked down his face as he slumped back in his chair, remorse and regret consuming him.

He wondered where she would go—if she could actually go. Maybe she had been in limbo, and her time here with him had somehow helped her gain acceptance and resolution, a kind of closure that then allowed her to move on to the Great Beyond and enjoy the everlasting joy that would no doubt await her there. It had been selfish of him to want to keep her. He could never deny Katherine a chance like that. He loved her too much to do that.

Stifling, Castle read the letter again, and again. And again. Perhaps it was for the best. It was, after all, a dream. A wonderful dream. Now his impending book tour seemed fortuitous. He did not know if he could stand being cooped up in the brownstone when she was no longer there. He sighed, and scrubbed his hand down his face. Blinking his eyes, Castle turned his gaze upon the portrait of the beautiful young woman he had spent more than two years falling in love with. There would never be another like her in his life. He knew that. He reached out for the photo, and gentle caressed his fingertips along the frame. He hoped she was right… that they would meet again, if not in this life, then in the next.

"I love you, Katherine," he spoke softly in the empty room, his eyes locked on the eternally bright and happy eyes staring back at him from the photo. "Always."