The Castle: Prequel to the Guardian Angel Series

by Melissa Johnson

  Chapter 2

  Too late, she clapped her hand over her mouth. Now she’d done it. Heather squeezed her eyes shut and waited for Marigold’s explosion of questions. When it didn’t come, she peeked at Marigold and realized, for once in her life, her friend appeared genuinely speechless. Her mouth worked to form words, but no sound came out.

  Heather patted her back. “Just spit it out,” she said dryly.

  But Marigold still couldn’t speak. Her news couldn’t be that shocking, could it?

  “For goodness sake, Mari, it has been done before!”

  “Has it?” The words finally escaped her as a squeak. Marigold cleared her throat. “Heather, when has a Councilor, an immortal, had a child?”

  Heather bit her lip. “It’s um, been a very long time.”

  “A long time? Give the girl a gold medal for the understatement of the century!” Marigold shook her head. “Not in our life time. Not in our parents’ lifetime. In fact, you told me they agreed a long time ago not to have children. Said it was too hard on them when they had to outlive their children.”

  She liked it better when Marigold was speechless. “Yes, I may have mentioned that.”

  Marigold frowned, her nose crinkling as she thought about it. “So Eric changed his mind? He decided it would be all right?”

  Heather didn’t meet her eyes and looked down at her short, uninteresting polished nails. “He has been known to make the grand romantic gesture.”

  That part was true. As angry as he could make her, in the space of a heartbeat, Eric could melt her bones with one romantic gesture.

  “Did he change his mind?”

  “No.”

  “Oh. So it was an accident. Heavens! The news must have floored him.”

  “It will.”

  “He doesn’t know?”

  “No. We are barely speaking to each other at the moment.”

  “Ah. That would make it difficult. So it’s bad timing. But it will get better…”

  “There will never be good timing!” Heather cut into Marigold’s sympathy. She didn’t deserve it. “And I don’t think he will ever forgive me.”

  Marigold’s eyes widened.

  “Heather?” Marigold drew her name out. “Please tell me I am misunderstanding what you are implying. This is where you get all indignant and tell me you did not trick your immortal husband into becoming a father. You would never have done that. Right?”

  Heather couldn’t deny what she’d done, or, in this case, what she hadn’t done. There were no excuses. Eric had been honest from the start that loving him was accepting a life without children. She’d convinced him it was enough. She’d convinced herself. There could be no regrets.

  But she had begun to have dreams. Vivid dreams of children gathered around her. Each of their faces seemed so real that when she woke up she felt a deep sense of loss. Eric would gather her close and the dream would fade.

  Her voice a near whisper, she said the only thing to explain. ”I’m not an immortal.”

  “Oh, Heather.” Marigold sighed. And that’s all she said for a long time. No I-told-you-so. Heather stared out the window and wondered if she’d disappointed her friend. She wouldn’t blame her if she had.

  “Well, what’s done is done,” Marigold finally said in a brisk tone. “It’s not in a hooker’s nature to judge.”

  Heather blinked. A startled laugh escaped. Her relief was so profound she wouldn’t have been surprised if tears soon followed. She looked at Marigold sideways, her smile a little wobbly. “You do realize you aren’t really a hooker don’t you?”

  “Oh, sure.” Marigold linked her arm through hers. “Now let’s sit down so we can come up with a plan.”

  Heather sat down next to her on the bench and released her pent up breath, relieved to be able to share this worry with Marigold.

  “Now, listen,” Marigold began in a conspiratorial tone. “You need to tell him soon. The sooner the better. An immortal can be angry for a very, very long time.”

  “What a comforting thought.”

  “But he’s not the bad twin, so we have that in our favor.”

  Heather groaned at Marigold’s description of Eric and Thaddeus. “I wish you would stop calling them that - - good twin, bad twin - - you can’t put labels on them like that.”

  “Yes, I can.” Marigold nodded emphatically. “I know you’ve become annoyingly adept at letting any criticism slip, but don’t tell me you haven’t thought the same thing.”

  Heather shifted uncomfortably.

  “Thaddeus and Eric may be identical in appearance,” Marigold continued, “but their character gives them away every time. And I’m an excellent judge of character, you know.”

  “Yes, oh worldly one.”

  “In my line of work it’s a necessity.”

  Heather shook her head in exasperation. Marigold’s ‘line of work’ being that of a hooker of course. Either her friend had a serious problem separating her real and assumed identity or she was amusing herself to make her think she had one. She thought of an unlikely reassignment and hid a smile. “I think it’s time you were reassigned. I’ll speak to Eric about it – when we’re back on speaking terms that is. How about a nice long stint in a medieval nunnery?”

  “Medieval!” Marigold shrieked, likely thinking of the lack of indoor plumbing. “You wouldn’t.”

  “I’ll do it if you don’t quit acting the part. Now say the words, I’m not a real hooker.”

  Marigold glared at her. “Fine. I’m not a real hooker. Happy?”

  “Not a very convincing denial, but I’ll take it.” Heather stood up and held out her hand to Marigold. “Come on. We can’t hide out up here forever.”

  Marigold slipped on her shoes and stood. “You will tell Eric soon, right?”

  Heather nodded. “Tomorrow. After the dedication.”

  Before she opened the door she impulsively gave Marigold a quick, fierce hug. “I have missed you, Mari.”