The Captain of the Manor

A Free M/M Blog Story

by Nicole Dennis

First Ebook Publication & Copyright © October 2013 by Nicole Bisceglie

Nicoledennisauthor.blogspot.com

Cover design – Nicole Dennis

ARe ISBN: NCLDNN0000002

This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission. This book cannot be copied in any format, sold, or otherwise transferred from your computer to another through upload to a file sharing peer-to-peer program, for free or for a fee. Such action is illegal and in violation of Copyright Law.

The Captain of the Manor
is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

A ghostly story of a trapped pirate captain in his home turning into a B&B. The realistic research nerd of a ghost hunter show appears on the doorstep after hearing the ghost stories with a ghost hunter show. Though he doesn't believe in ghosts or ghost hunters, it's a job in this crummy economy. Of course he never expected to find a ghost, let alone a yummy pirate who fulfills every Captain Jack Sparrow fantasy running through his head.

Acknowledgments:
For everyone with a love of M/M stories with a hint of a yummy ghost.

The authors acknowledge the trademarked status and owners of the following word marks used in this story:

Armani
:
Giorgio Armani

MIT
:
Massachusetts Institute of Technology

Mensa International Group
:
Mensa International Limited

On the balcony overlooking the manor's entrance, Captain Edmund Carslyle stared with revulsion at the men emptying luggage and containers from a dark van. With his gifts, he knew damn well what those containers held. It wasn't materials for a quantum conference.

These were ghost hunters. Something he forbid from entering his home.

Hands gripped the railing until his knuckles went white. His image altered from corporeal to his ghostly pirate with anger. A flicker of lightning raged over the manor, lighting the skies, revealing one face peering. Behind glasses, bright eyes widened when he caught sight of his image. How could someone see his ghost image? No one could see him. There were rumors abound about a ghost haunting the ancient Greek Revival-styled manor turned into an elegant seaside B&B, but nothing was based on fact.

Cussing, Edmund disappeared into the manor. Retaking his corporeal image, he dressed himself in slim Armani trousers, a white silk button-down shirt, and grey knitwear V-neck sweater. Shoving a hand through his golden brown hair, he moved through the manor's family wing and down the stairs.

In spite of tales, rumors, and gossip, he kept ghost hunters away from his lands for over five hundred years. He wanted no one to scour the old stories and hurts hidden in the walls of the manor and lighthouse. There was the issue about his curse, ancient and powerful, and never-ending. It caused him enough grief and pain and didn't want wannabe ghost hunters messing with his life even further. His hands clenched while he rounded the final bend.

* * *

Outside, gazing upon the elegant southern manor with the double story Doric columns and widow's walk on the corner facing the sea, Aiden Joseph turned to take in the surroundings. Further beyond the manor, he spotted a towering lighthouse built on the hammerhead-shaped peninsula to warn all sea captains about the dangerous reefs and shoals hidden under the beautiful blue ocean. Aiden could understand why the first Carslyle wanted to put roots here in the rich sandy soil, nestled against the dangerous North Carolina stretch of the Atlantic Ocean. Fixing his glasses, he moved his gaze up the three stories, timing his movements with the sudden fix of lightning, to see a figure standing on the ledge of the widow's walk tower.

A gasp escaped when he caught sight of a ghost.

A figure of a pirate.

"What? What did you see?" Morris, the leader of the group, asked, turning at the sound of the gasp. He met Aiden's gaze.

"Nothing. I saw nothing." Aiden cleared his throat. "A hawk flying over caused a shadow."

"Damn, don't spook on us. We're not even in the door with the gear."

"You think we're gonna get in, boss? Word is the owner doesn't let in hunters," George, one of the cameramen, said, hefting a bag on his shoulder before grabbing the handles of another one.

"We're signed in for a weekend as a quantum conference and not hunters. Aiden here gives us some credence as experts with his brain." Morris thumped a hand to Aiden's shoulder.

This was not a job he wanted, but positions as a scientific researcher weren't readily available in the current economy. His savings were running low and bills were piling up. He found a researcher job on the internet and it ended up being the researcher for Spectre Hunters, one of the many ghost hunter shows on television. With a scientific, logical background, the idea of ghosts and other paranormal events weren't high on his believability list. Still, it was a job.

Now due to this position, he found the stories of a captain of the Satan's Trident, who disappeared after a fateful voyage up the coast after an armada, but a storm overtook the fleet. His ship foundered off the coast near the lighthouse, the captain and the crew disappeared.

Within months of his disappearance, the Carslyle family and friends reported their home was haunted by the captain, who wandered the upper suite and widow's walk. The sightings continued after the manor was turned into a popular B&B. While the owner and manager didn't allow paranormal hunters on the property, Morris figured they could enter under a different identity. Aiden wasn't too sure about the plan.

"Yes, excellent for everyone I'm such a nerd with credentials," Aiden answered, shouldering his laptop bag and weekend case. He went up the front steps and across the wide front veranda, admiring the glorious craftsmanship of the woodwork.

Pressing a hand on the brass handle, he opened one of the double glass front doors and opened it, stepping into the huge front room. His heels clicked onto the welcoming old hardwood parquet patterned floor. The doubled staircase curved a full three flights, taking guests across the entire three floors of the manor. He read on the manor's website, there was a two-story library, an old-fashioned parlor, a ballroom, a sitting room for a ladies' afternoon tea, a smoking room for the gentlemen, and a large dining room off the well-equipped kitchen. The various named suites finished the upper floors.

He heard Morris, George, and the other two men grump and groan as they dragged in their gear. The various trunks thumped and dropped on the floor. Aiden winced at their carelessness with the beautiful floor.

"Well, now. Wouldn't 
that
 be romantic?" Morris said, nudging George, pointing off to one of the rooms. "We can swoon some ladies down here, get them in the beds."

Aiden rolled his eyes at their crass attitude over this beautiful manor.

"Unless you're not able to check into a suite," a man called out, his tone powerful and clipped.

Turning, fixing his glasses, his eyes widened at the sight of the six-two male stepping down the last of the winding stairs. Aiden looked at the ceiling and then around the front area. This man looked the same as… It couldn't be the same…

"Ahh, sir, this is the Quantum Theorem Group here for the weekend," the desk manager said.

"There is no group. This is another useless disguise for another group of ghost hunters trying to get in under my nose. Gentleman, you may stay within the walls of my ancestors' homes, but all of your gear forbidden. I know those containers don't have conference pamphlets. Return everything to your van if you wish to stay. If anything paranormal happens, it will not be recorded in any fashion," the man said as he strode across the floor. "I know of your reputation, Morris Jarrett, as I keep track of all professional and amateur ghost hunters."

"We have a right to conduct our…" Morris tried to speak.

The man raised a hand. "This is my family's ancient home and land. I have the right to refuse a room. It's a known fact, all ghost hunters aren't welcome." He rested his gaze upon Aiden.

Aiden swallowed at the curl of lust low in his belly at the sight of those green eyes peering at him. He could swoon at those powerful shoulders and lean height. Such a gorgeous man stood in front of him. Still, the ghostly image he saw on the ledge under the lightning haunted him.

"Well, shit…What the hell are we supposed to do now?" Morris interrupted.

The man glared at Morris. "Shove your gear in the van and leave with it or stay without it. Either way, your gear doesn't enter my doors."

"My laptop?" Aiden inquired.

The man returned his gaze to Aiden. "If it's a simple laptop for basic research, it can remain. If you attempt to use it for something other than ghost hunting, it will be removed."

"I promise I'll not let it happen."

"You have permission to sign in for your room, Mr…"

"Joseph. Aiden Joseph. You?"

"Edmund. I'm Edmund Carslyle."

"Like the Captain who disappeared," Aiden whispered. "Like the ghost. The ghost on the ledge."

"Ghost? What ghost on what ledge?" Morris demanded in a hot voice. "You said it was a damn bird up there. Boys, get out the blasted gear. We're going hunting."

The rest of the crew cried out, dropped the containers, and started to unlock them.

"Like hell you are."

"You can't stop us," Morris said.

"Try me, Mr Jarrett. This is my home, my business. You and your crew are no longer welcome on these grounds. Your deposits are refunded. Close the containers. Pick them up. Turn around and leave. Now," Edmund Carslyle said, shoving forward into Morris' face. Fists clenched against his thighs.

Above the manor, lightning flashed, thunder rumbled across the skies.

Next to Edmund, Aiden fixed his glasses and looked around at the sudden natural effects around the manor. There wasn't a cloud in the sky. Where did the storm come from?

"You'll hear from my lawyers," Morris threatened.

Edmund released and clenched one fist. "You'll get nowhere other than lose money and face within your community. I wouldn't even bother. Leave."

"Aiden, move, we'll go to the next project," Morris snapped to him.

Aiden managed to remove his attention from Edmund's chiseled body to Morris' furious expression. He knew this expression well. "You know what, Morris, there's no point to this."

"To what?"

Adjusting his glasses, Aiden straightened his back at Morris' harsh glance. He heard the doubt in his boss' voice. "I don't believe I'll keep doing this with you. As a scientific and logical researcher, I don't consider paranormal hunting to be a legitimate business. I give you my notice."

"What the hell are you going to do? Back to contractor research or standing in front of a classroom, trying to teach?"

"Perhaps. I need to consider my options, but I no longer include your team as one of them. I wish you luck in your further endeavors, Morris," Aiden said, holding out a hand.

"You're quitting on me? Just like that?"

"Yes. Yes, I am. I will not require a reference or anything."

"We're your ride home."

"I believe I can manage something. I'm quite capable of looking after myself," Aiden said, adjusting his glasses.

"Truly, Aiden? You're quite naïve about the outside world. You still prefer the world inside a classroom or your computers," Morris sneered.

"I will figure out my own way. Thank you, Morris," Aiden said in a distinctive tone.

"You're making a big mistake, Aiden. A big one." Morris shook his head.

"I believe he is making the smartest decision since joining your ridiculous ragtag operation. He seems like a reasonable, educated young man who has multiple employment opportunities," Edmund said, stepping behind Aiden. "I asked you to leave. Please comply."

"You'll regret this, Carslyle," Morris threatened under his breath, grabbing his bag, shoving the front door open, leaving the manor. His crew followed, grumbling under their breaths about lugging the ridiculous pounds of equipment back and forth and the long drive back to their base.

Aiden looked out the front doors and watched the van leave. His career as a paranormal researcher and analyst for the ghost hunting team ended with the turning of those wheels. He tried not to cringe at the thought of overdue bills piling in his inbox at home. He wasn't sure he would even make rent. What the hell was he thinking? Now how was he supposed to get home?

"Shall we get you signed and settled in? I would be delighted to have you as a guest."

Straightening his glasses, Aiden swung around to face the gorgeous man, feeling the lust slingshot through his body. "Pardon?"

Edmund went behind the front desk, taking over the duties from the manager with a wave of a hand. "Do you wish to stay at the manor?"

"Ahh, I would like too, but there is a problem with my funds and issues at home. I don't believe I can afford to stay. I need to find a way home. After what happened with the others, I didn't think you wanted anyone here." Aiden glanced over his shoulder at the doors, and back to Edmund, the possible…ghost?

"I can tell you aren't a ghost hunter, not at all like the others. You don't have their annoying drive."

"No, no, I'm not. I'm a professor, a doctor really, of quantum mechanics, mathematical theorems, chemistry, physics, and combinatorialist. I taught quantum, mathematics, and physics in a small college, but was released when the college lost their funding."

"You're a genius. You went to MIT?"

Aiden shrugged, fixed his glasses. "I tested high on that so called genius group."

"The Mensa International Group?"

"That's the one. I belong to them, but don't participate. Don't particularly like crowds and much attention."

"Yet, you teach."

"I did teach. I no longer have a position. It was small graduate classes, less than a dozen students." Aiden pulled a wallet from his jacket and opened it. Everything inside precisely lined the same direction, spaced perfect, and in alphabet order. Even the last three dollar bills were creased and in numerical order. He slid out his driver's license and the credit card. He tapped the card on the granite counter and considered the balance remaining. He passed both forward and hoped it would go through. If not, he would figure out another option. From a different pocket, he pulled out a small electronic tablet. Instead of his finger, he used a stylus to open various applications, and made notes or deletions.

"How long would you like to stay with me at the manor?"

The stylus paused at the question. Adjusting the glasses, Aiden regarded Edmund. "Stay with you?"

Edmund chuckled. "Pardon, excuse my wording. How long would you like to stay here at the manor?"

"The three days we have scheduled. I hope to find a way home by Monday."

Edmund typed in the appropriate information and slid the card through the reader. It came up rejected to his disappointment. With a glance at the bespectacled man, he tapped in to comp the room. "Please use the stylus to sign for the contract on our reader."

Setting down his tablet, Aiden scrawled his signature across the small screen. He accepted everything, and returned the stylus to the holder. "My card went through."

"Yes, it went through fine," Edmund said with a small smile. "Thank you, ahh, Dr Joseph." He slid Aiden's cards across the desk.

"Aiden, please. I'm on a small vacation to figure out my next path." Aiden replaced the cards back in the same perfection as before.

"You're in Suite 304. I'll take you upstairs. It's the third floor, next to the family suite."

"Family suite?"

"My bedroom suite and bathroom includes the widow's walk and off-limits to customers."

"Most of the haunting reports are located around the area."

"Yes, but I don't appreciate people wandering around my personal room to catch sight of a ghost." Edmund unlocked a drawer, pulled a white card, tapped keys, and ran the card through the machine. He hit keys, zapped the card, and nodded at double green lights. Choosing a small folder, he added a pair of brochures on one side, a list of numbers in front, and the access card. "This is your key card. It deactivates if not used within twenty-four hours. I can reset it. It lets you in the gym and pool after hours, which is eight PM." He slid the folder across the desk.

"Thank you."

"Welcome. Let me show you to your room. Need help with your bags."

"No, this is it." Aiden gathered his things, shouldered his bags, and followed the other man.

Alone in the third upstairs hall, Edmund glanced at him. "What did you mean by you saw a ghost on the outside ledge?"