Their path came to an end at a wider path that had seen years of use by carriages. Along the path were a few large bushes, and behind one of the bushes, she heard a muffled sound. At first, she thought she had imagined it, but when Julian turned his gaze in the direction of one of the bushes, she knew it was real. It wasn’t some fragment of a memory from her past.
“Stay here,” Julian told her then led his horse into a trot over to the bush.
She watched as he rounded the corner of the bush.
“Wh—What are you doing here?” Julian asked in a mixture of shock and alarm. Julian hurried to get down from the horse.
She urged her horse to go over to Julian so she could see what was going on. When she reached the bush, she saw a gentleman who looked just like the person Rose had been disguised as the previous evening, except this gentleman had ropes bound around him and a cloth covering his mouth. He was also indecently covered in only his muslin shirt and knit-footed drawers. Face hot with embarrassment, she hurried to look away.
“I had no idea you were here,” she heard Julian say. “I-I’m sorry, Francis. If I’d known this happened to you, I would have come out here last night.”
“I didn’t warn you that I was coming,” Francis replied. “I was afraid something terrible was happening to you. You sounded like you were in a panic in your missive.”
“It’s just like you to come when I say not to. But, it sure is good to see you. Here. Put on my coat. It’ll cover most of you.”
Willow waited until Julian told her it was safe to look before she allowed her gaze to go in their direction. Thankfully, Francis was covered enough to avoid making either one of them uncomfortable.
“Do you feel up to riding a horse, or should I get the carriage?” Julian asked.
“I can ride a horse,” Francis told him. “It’s not as bad as it looks. It was the strangest thing. I stepped out of the carriage for a couple of minutes, and the next thing I know, I was all tied up. I don’t even know what happened. Your coachman and my carriage were gone, and I was here. It must have been thieves.”
Julian glanced her way, and after a moment, he said, “Well, the important thing is you’re all right and we found you.”
“We?” Francis’ gaze went in her direction, and he blinked in surprise.
“My wife,” Julian said.
Francis’ eyes grew wide, and then he laughed. “Don’t tell me you didn’t want me to come because you wished to be alone with a lady. You’re a cad, Julian. Running off to elope without saying a word to me about it. I’m tempted to take your money out of the investments Lord Steinbeck told me about. You deserve to face financial ruin for scaring me the way you did.” He patted Julian on the shoulder. “I’ll forgive you this one time. But just this once. You can’t do anything like this again.” He turned and bowed to Willow. “Forgive me for ignoring you, my lady. You have no idea what I’ve been through on my way here. I imagined all sorts of terrible things. I wasn’t even sure I’d see him again.” He put his hand over his heart. “I can’t tell you how relieved I am.”
“I’ll be relieved once we get you a warm bath, clothes, and a hot meal,” Julian said. “I’m glad all of this happened in the summer. You would have been in serious danger if it was colder out at night.”
“Yes, I do consider myself fortunate for that.” After they got on Julian’s horse, Francis added, “You have to tell me all about your wife. How did you meet her? When did you marry her? I didn’t even know you were sharing a secret courtship with a lady. Now I’m beginning to wonder if you really went to Italy and Sweden.”
“I did go to those countries, but I met Willow after I left London to come here.”
Willow wondered if Julian would tell Francis about her coming from the future, the curse, and Rose, but it turned out Julian said he met her while on his way to the estate. While the version he was telling Francis was far less exciting than the truth, Willow thought it was much more believable, and for that reason, it was the better version.
***
One Year Later
London
After getting ready for the ball that evening, Julian entered Willow’s bedchamber, surprised to find that she still hadn’t put on her gown. She was sitting in front of her vanity with their three-month-old son in her lap. Julian couldn’t be sure, but it looked like she was trying to make Ordell’s sleeping gown longer by trying to stretch it out.
“Francis and Kimberly are going to be here in a few minutes,” Julian said. “You can fuss with Ordell’s sleeping attire later.”
She glanced up at him. “He kicks his blanket off at night. I’m afraid his feet will get cold. I didn’t realize he was too big for this gown. We’ll need to have more made.”
“We will, but we can’t do it tonight. Don’t you have something to cover his feet?” He distinctly recalled Willow and Kimberly talking about baby clothes after Kimberly told them she was expecting a child.
Her eyes lit up. “I do!” She stood up and gave Ordell to him before she hurried to the small room off to the side of her bedchamber.
Ordell babbled as if he didn’t understand why his mother insisted on fussing over his feet when his gown was thick enough for winter. And to think they were in the summer months! It was really no wonder that Ordell kicked the thick blanket off of him during the middle of the night.
Julian chuckled and rubbed his son’s back. “I suppose you can’t blame a mother for wanting to make sure her child has everything he needs.”
It was certainly better than one who thought nothing of giving her child to an evil fairy. Though there had been no traces of magic, or Rose, over the past year, Julian still had nightmares from time to time that Rose had been successful in binding him and Willow. In some of those nightmares, he and Willow were trapped in Droch Leteacht’s graveyard. In other nightmares, that dreadful fairy had thrown him and Willow out in order to keep Ordell.
It was always with great relief when he woke up and realized it had been a dream. He was glad he had decided not to tell Willow how dark and terrible that fairy’s abode was. The two of them didn’t need to have those nightmares. It was enough he was the one haunted with them from time to time. There were moments when he wondered if the fairy had sent one of his captives to invade his mind in order to plague him with those nightmares, since that was one of the things evil fairies delighted in.
He’d never know if the nightmares were purely from his imagination or worse, but at least he knew those nightmares were just that: nightmares. He and his family would never be burdened with the reality of such an awful fate. The curse was over. He and Willow had made sure their children would be safe. The blue fairy would always be the owner of the land. And the green fairy was finally free.
Julian kissed the top of his son’s head. “Yes, you’re much better off with a mother who worries over every little thing than one who doesn’t care about you at all.”
Willow returned with a pair of knitted shoes. “I hope these will fit.”
Julian turned their child so that the boy’s feet were easier for her to put the little things on.
Willow slipped them on then tied them so they were secure. She didn’t hide her relief. “They fit.”
“I’ll tuck him into his cradle while you finish getting ready for the ball,” he told her.
“Do you think he’ll be all right?” Willow asked.
“He’ll be fine. I instructed the maid to check on him every half hour while we’re gone, and I told her we’d be at Lord Clement’s ball if she needs to send us a missive.” When Ordell yawned, he added, “I doubt he’ll be awake much longer. He’ll probably be asleep almost the entire time we’re gone.”
“You’re right. I need to rest and enjoy the evening.” She took a deep breath and released it. “Lots of mothers have left their children and gone to balls, and everything has been fine.”
“Everything will be fine.” He placed a comforting hand on her shoulder and kissed her. “We’ll only be gone
for two hours.” He had chosen to keep their first evening at a ball short so that she wouldn’t end up worrying for too long. He suspected as they had more children, she wouldn’t worry so much, but that was all going to have to come in time. “I’ll be back in a moment.”
While she went to the vanity, he carried their son to the small room. The moonlight allowed plenty of light into the room so that the darkness was expelled. He gently put Ordell in the cradle that was lined with iron. He brought the blanket up to Ordell’s waist, figuring it would keep the boy warm but not uncomfortably so. Ordell yawned again, and his eyes began to droop.
“You are going to be one very well-loved little boy,” Julian whispered. He gave his son a kiss on the forehead then left the room.
Willow had put on the orange gown she’d recently purchased and was styling her hair. “I’m sure Francis and Kimberly are already here. Why don’t you talk to them while I finish getting ready? I hate the idea of keeping them waiting.”
“All right.” He kissed her cheek. “I love you.”
She smiled. “I love you, too. I won’t be long. I promise.”
Glancing at his reflection in the mirror, he saw that his orange cravat needed to be adjusted and hurried to secure it in place.
Then he left the room and headed for the drawing room. As soon as he got there, he saw that Francis and Kimberly were on the settee.
“Don’t get up,” he told them. “Willow is still getting ready. She wanted to make sure Ordell will be warm through the night. It delayed her.”
“I meant to ask you about his name,” Kimberly began. “How did you and Willow pick it? Francis and I have been trying to figure out what to name our little one, but we’re having the most difficult time of it.”
“I keep telling you there’s plenty of time to pick a name,” Francis told her.
“I know, but I don’t want to put this off until we’re taken by surprise,” she said.
Francis laughed. “How can we be taken by surprise? It takes nine months to have a child. Considering you just discovered you were with child last week, I don’t see how you can be in such a hurry to come up with a name.”
“I like to be prepared,” she said. “Besides, it’s fun to think up names.”
“All right then. William if it’s a boy and Mary if it’s a girl,” Francis replied. “There. That settles it.”
She groaned. “It most certainly does not settle it. The name should mean something important to us. Willow said she and Julian chose Ordell because it had a special meaning to them. I was going to ask her what the meaning was when the carriage stopped in front of the shop we were going to. Then I forgot to ask her. Now that I remember to ask, I want to know.” She turned her attention to Julian. “How did you come up with it? It’s not a common name.”
“We wanted a name that meant ‘new beginnings’,” Julian said. “We both felt that when we met, we got a new beginning in life.”
“That’s lovely,” she replied.
“It is,” Francis said. “I can’t believe what a romantic you’ve turned into over the past year.” His gaze went to his wife. “I’m telling you, this is not the same gentleman who left London to bury his father. That gentleman didn’t want a lady standing in his way of traveling all over the world.”
“My cousin is right,” Julian admitted. “I’m not the same person I was back then. I had a lot of time to think over what is important, and I concluded that being with the people one loves matters more than where one resides.”
“And to think I tried to tell him that for years,” Francis added with a shake of his head.
“At least I learned the lesson before it was too late.” Julian noticed Willow coming into the room and rose to his feet. “I think we’re ready to go now.”
“We are,” Willow said. “I’m sorry I took so long.”
“We didn’t mind waiting,” Kimberly assured her as Francis helped her to her feet. “We were discussing baby names.”
“Have you picked one already?” Willow asked.
“No, not yet, but maybe Francis and I will think of something special that signifies what we mean to each other,” Kimberly replied.
“We have a book if you want ideas,” Willow offered.
Francis nodded. “That’s a good idea. We’ll read the book and pick the name that fits our little boy or girl the best.”
“I’ll give you the book after we return from the ball,” Julian said. “You can start looking through it while we have something light to eat and drink.”
Julian extended his arm to Willow, and she put her hand on the crook of his arm. He took a moment to look at her and then looked at Francis and Kimberly. He could think of few gentlemen who were as fortunate as he was.
When he thought of how his life had been during those two very long centuries, it made him appreciate what he had all the more. He wasn’t going to take a single day for granted. He was going to make the most of every moment. He smiled at his wife and friends as they left for the ball.
Chapter Thirty
Present Day
Thursday morning 8:00
Arnold Thompson parked the car in front of Nightingale Hall. There were seven cars parked out front that he didn’t recognize. He didn’t see Violet’s van anywhere. He didn’t understand it. Who would visit a young lady who was only temporarily here to sell an estate she’d inherited?
With a shrug, he gathered his briefcase and got out of his car. He rang the doorbell. He wasn’t sure, but he thought he heard the pitter-patter of little feet from the other side of the door.
The door opened, and a boy who couldn’t be older than six stared up at him. Before Arnold could speak, a man in servant apparel came to the doorway.
“Mr. Jack, you must not answer the door,” the man told him. “You can’t be sure who is on the other side. Now, return to your parents.”
The boy glanced at Arnold, apologized, and then went down the hall.
The man turned to Arnold and offered him a smile. “I’m the butler. Forgive the lad. He’s overwhelmed by the size of this place. Lord and Lady Blackwell tried to warn him the manor was much larger than what he’s used to in London, but I don’t know if anything can prepare a child for all of this. Are you Mr. Arnold Thompson?”
Arnold’s eyebrows furrowed. “Yes, I am.”
“Good. Please come in. We’re expecting you.”
Arnold took a tentative step into the entryway. “I’m at a loss on what to say.” He scanned the entryway. It looked just like it did when he was here three days ago. “I’m supposed to see Miss Willow Knudson.”
“I apologize, but I don’t recognize the name.”
Was it possible that Willow had left and this family came here? No, it couldn’t be. The last person with the title Blackwell was Greg, and he was dead. There was no other Blackwell heir. He had made sure of it before he contacted Willow. Maybe there was a titled family who sounded close to Blackwell. It was possible he’d misunderstood the butler.
“Um, it’s been a long past couple of days,” Arnold said with an uncertain chuckle. “I’ve been going all over England to take care of wills for my clients. Did someone buy this estate from a young lady who lives in the United States?”
“No, there’s been no sale of this estate. I served Lord Blackwell until his death two weeks ago. His oldest son is now here to acquire the estate.”
“That’s not possible. Greg Westmore, the Earl of Blackwell, didn’t have any living sons. The next of kin was Willow Knudson.”
The butler’s eyes grew wide. “I don’t know what to tell you, Mr. Thompson. I’ve been employed here for thirty years. In that time, I served Warren Azazel for twenty-eight of those years. We just had his funeral. His eldest son Darren Azazel is now the earl of this estate. We thought you were here to preside over the reading of the will. We were expecting a lawyer at eight in the morning.”
“I am a lawyer.” He warded off the feeling that this was all a dream. He knew full well he was wide aw
ake.
A man who appeared to be in his late thirties approached them. “My son said there’s someone here.”
“Yes, my lord,” the butler said. “This is Mr. Arnold Thompson. Mr. Thompson, this is the gentleman I told you about. Darren Azazel, the Earl of Blackwell.”
Darren Azazel turned to him and shook his hand. “Yes, we’ve been expecting you. Thank you for coming. We’re in the sitting room.”
Arnold couldn’t come up with a single response as he followed the man down the hall and into a room filled with at least twenty people, some of which were children. A maid was currently going around the room to make sure everyone’s teacups were full. A few women dabbed their eyes with handkerchiefs. They all wore somber colors and talked in low tones.
Arnold just could not believe what he was seeing. This could not be the same room he had been standing in just three days ago. It wasn’t humanly possible.
“You can sit at the desk,” Darren whispered and gestured to the piece of furniture that was under a portrait.
Arnold jerked in surprise and walked over to the painting to make sure his eyes weren’t deceiving him. He was certain there had only been one person in it before. A young man in the prime of his life who had, a long time ago, been the earl of this estate.
“Julian Azazel,” he whispered to himself. Yes, that was the name, and there had been that tragic rumor about his disappearance.
The man in the painting was the same man, only he was ten years older. And there were four children with him. If Arnold had to guess, they were nine and younger. Two boys and two girls. And also in that painting—
His eyes grew wide.
No, it couldn’t be.
Arnold took out his handkerchief and rubbed his eyes. Then he directed his gaze back to the painting.
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