The best known concerns a young girl, daughter of the house, who was tragically killed sometime in the 17th Century while attempting to escape an enforced marriage. Some say that she was a daughter of the Dacre family who once lived in the Hall, others say she was Dorothy Trevor, youngest daughter of the first owner. There are many different versions of the same story. When broken down to a common plot, the story explains how the girls fell in love with a local farmer's son, and agreed to elope with him the night before her planned marriage to an old dignitary. But she never turned up.

On an impulse, she had stolen some of the family jewels, and before going on to her rendezvous had attempted to hide them in the well, to be collected later. However, she stumbled and fell in and drowned. Her decomposing body was found two weeks later, just a couple of days after her lover had hanged himself from the tree where they had agreed to meet, driven to despair by his uncertainty as to his beloved's fate and the constant fingers of accusation that had pointed at him. After such a tragic history, it is only to be expected that the spirit of the poor girl - and also that of her lover - began to haunt the house and grounds.

Even today, the tragic lovers make their presence known. Feminine footsteps have often been heard by Conelia Bayley tripping around the second floor, although she has also heard much heavier, masculine tread. One night, heavy steps crashed down the stairs and a fierce hammering sounded at her bedroom door. But, of course the perpetrator could not be found. The bedroom traditionally said to be the haunted one, now called ' The Twin Poster ', still has a creepy atmosphere about it. I guessed it to be the haunted one as soon as I walked into it; it seemed to possess a tense, claustrophobic atmosphere which is hard to describe. It is said that strange glowing white lights have been seen passing by the window of this room when the house has been deserted.

The main entrance way, now a grove of lime trees bisected by the dual carriageway and leading nowhere, also has a reputation for being haunted. Standing at one end of the drive there was once a lodge, the home of the gatekeeper. However, the last gatekeeper saw some apparition here so distressing that he killed himself soon after, and the lodge was never occupied again. The same apparitionmay have been seen a few years ago by a member of a party of ramblers who passed Plas Teg one twilight. He had been straggling behind, but suddenly ran up to his companions in a state of shock, but would not say what he had seen.

Since the dual carriageway cuts through the original entrance, it is not surprising that the road too is haunted. Misty white shapes have been known to run infront of motorists, causing them to swerve and brake, thinking that they have run over a living person. Even more mysterious, for there is no story to account for their presence, are the horsemen who patrol the highway. I have read old accounts of the shadowy horsemen who torment poachers and pursue riders before vanishing mysteriously, but I was astonished to discover that, according to the locals anyway, they still haunt the district. They make their presence known mainly at dusk in September and October, and one or two sightings at least seem to occur every year.

With so much supernatural activity taking place at Plas Teg, you might believe that there could be nowhere in Clwyd more scary. But the old hermit who once slept within the ruined walls of Rhuddlan Castle would not agree with you. In the book of Welsh Legends published by J. Bacock in 1802, the hermit accosts a nightbound traveller and tells him:
"Such groans have met my ears ! - such sights my eyes ! - and screams and riotous laughs mingled with the wind that whistled through the broken arches of the courts ! - e'en now, the sweat of terror dews my brow, and languid beats my heart."