“Do you want some bacon? I made extra.”
I gagged. A week ago the world had seemed like such a different place—a wonderful place, full of promise, excitement, and endless possibility. “Goodness, no. I think I might throw up again.”
She smirked. “So I’ve been doing a little more digging today into the box and I found Conal’s death certificate. I also found out how he died.”
I nodded, “Okay, spit it out.”
“He was killed by Uilliam a week later—after the scene we saw last night in the mirror. After the fight with his cousin Sorely, Conal went after Uilliam with about a dozen men. He attacked the castle in an attempt to rescue Sive. But Uilliam knew he was coming and unfortunately Conal never really stood a chance.”
I paused to look up, not surprised by her words. After what I’d seen last night, I’d expected Conal to go after Uilliam and considering Uilliam’s castle and guards, I knew Conal would be at the disadvantage. Still, it took me a moment to speak, knowing this was my fault. “I got him killed—I got Cullen killed.”
“It wasn’t Cullen. It was Conal and he was supposed to die, remember? He died in a boat,” Leslie said, in her matter of fact tone. “So actually, he lived an extra week because of you.”
“And what about Sive?” I asked. “How did she fare?”
“She was locked in the tower, and from what I can tell, he killed her a few years later.”
I paused as an uncomfortable knot lodged itself in my chest. I swallowed hard, pushing it down and continued. “She was supposed to die with her lover in that boat, not be forced to live in the tower for years under that psycho’s thumb—that’s worse than death. No wonder they call her the banshee. I presume he eventually killed her over the sapphire.” I leaned back in my chair and pressed my hand over my heart.
We sat in silence for what seemed like much longer than I’m sure it was. Eventually, Leslie pointed to another envelope. “There’s something else. Open it.”
I obeyed. Two photographs lay inside, both facing down, and I lifted them out and set the envelope down before turning them over.
The first was of Dunlace Castle, similar to the one Leslie had found last night. The second caused my hands to shake. Leslie bit her lip, waiting for me to speak. It was a painted portrait, depicting Sorely, not much older than when I’d last seen him. His arm was draped around a woman’s shoulder, squeezing her tightly with affection. The woman looked just like Leslie.
Leslie eventually gave up on waiting for me to respond. Laughing heartily, she reached out and squeezed my hand. “Come on, Sophia. Surely after everything you’ve been through, nothing can be that much of a surprise anymore.”
I nodded in confirmation. “That’s true. I guess it’s kind of odd that I haven’t come across you in the past before. I wonder if Sam saw this picture or if it’s why he was so infatuated with you.”
“Why, because I reminded him of his great-great-great-great-grandmother? Eww, that seems weird, but I guess that anything’s possible.”
I turned the picture over and saw the name Lassya. “I don’t think you’re related to Sam after all.”
“What do you mean?”
“This was his second wife, the one who went missing.”
“You’re right. I wonder what really happened.”
We sat in silence for a moment. Eventually, Leslie stood and walked to the other side of the room and picked up Cullen’s cell phone.
She returned to her seat and handed it to me. “What I can’t seem to wrap my brain around is why Cullen would be looking into a costume shop.”
Confused, I nodded and stared at the website. She was right. Why hadn’t that dawned on me earlier.
“I mean, even if we had found any reason for him to want to go back…like if he thought you were trapped back there or if Liam had followed you back here and threatened or coerced him in some way to go back…why would he need a costume shop? He knows how time travel works. He knows you go back into your past life’s body.”
“Only one way to find out,” I said, climbing to my feet.
Leslie and I found the Costume Closet hidden away on a side street. The mannequins in the window ranged from 11th-century Vikings and peasants to 15th-century knights and kings; the shelves were adorned with jewels and swords mixed among the hats and gloves. A bored-looking girl with pink hair and glasses was sitting at the glass display counter, laboriously untangling a heap of chains.
“Wow, I didn’t know a place like this existed in Dublin,” Leslie whispered.
“It’s amazing, they must supply the local theatre or something or maybe Ireland is big into those renaissance fairs?”
“Can I help you?” The girl asked, finally looking up.
I looked over at Leslie, who was now busy trying on a brightly patterned scarf. She was clearly of no help. How to go about getting info on recent customer purchases?
“I’m looking for a costume…for my friend,” I said, touching a brown peasant gown.
The girl gave me a measured look, as if to say, “Really, a costume? Really, no duh.”
I glanced at Leslie for help. She picked up a sword and added, “We’re thinking something that would have belonged here in Ireland in the 16th century.”
“Oh, you’re the second request I’ve had this month,” the girl said. “Let me just grab a few things from the back.”
I took a deep breath and reminded myself not to appear too eager.
When the girl returned, Leslie casually tried on two of the pieces the girl had brought out while I made idle conversation.
“So, you said we were the second request this month.” I turned my gaze to Leslie, hoping I wasn’t overacting. “I wonder if that was Cullen who was in here. Did he say he was coming by?”
Leslie smiled. “Could have been, I haven’t spoken to him yet today.” She turned to the shopkeeper, “Was he a ginger?”
“I don’t think so. I think his hair was dark.”
“Huh. Did he mention his name? Liam, perhaps?” I suggested.
The girl handed Leslie a wig and then looked back over at me. “I didn’t catch his name.”
“Do you remember anything else about him? Or maybe he paid with a credit card?” I suggested.
The girl looked at me suspiciously. One too many questions.
“I only ask because we’re in a play together and I’m supposed to pick out his costume but maybe he picked it out himself.”
She smiled. “Oh well, he didn’t buy anything. He just tried stuff on and said he’d be back. Actually, he left his red sweatshirt here. I wonder if he came back for it.”
I shifted a glance at Leslie.
“I wasn’t in the next day,” the girl explained as she moved behind the counter, “Nope, he must have come back for it. It’s not here.”
FIFTY-EIGHT
I waved to Leslie as I headed up the path to the front door. She was off to Sam’s place. It had been nice to spend the day alone with her, without Sam tagging along. She’d made me laugh which was something I hadn’t done recently and although we hadn’t solved the mystery of my missing fiancé, we now had more to go on.
She honked and disappeared behind the trees just as I noticed a white envelope sticking out of my door. It had my name written in Cullen’s handwriting across the front. As I tore it open, I hoped it was from Cullen.
Within seconds of starting to read it, I wished it hadn’t been from him.
I unlocked the door with shaky hands and made my way to the kitchen to pour myself a glass of red wine, barely able to see through the tears. Then I settled into the comfy chair where Daphne joined me.
“No,” I said aloud, shaking my head in disbelief, as tears splashed down onto the paper. “She wouldn’t do that to me…she wouldn’t.”
Daphne tried to soothe me with her rumbling purr but eventually gave up and ran for the stairs.
“Sophia!” Leslie said, walking back through the front door. “I forgot my... Why are you crying? Did they
find Cullen?” she asked, taking hold of my hands.
“No.” I frowned, trying to regain my composure.
“What’s that?” Leslie asked, pointing to the letter on my lap. “What’s the matter?” Leslie asked again, concerned, as I stared into her eyes.
“It’s from Cullen.”
“Really?” Leslie said. “Oh my God. Where is he? What did he say?”
I closed my eyes briefly, searching for the right words.
“The letter is about you,” I said, looking away.
“I don’t understand. Why would it be about me?”
“Promise you’ll be honest with me,” I said, turning to face my best friend. “No matter what, promise you’ll tell me the truth about this.”
“Soph, I don’t understand what you’re going on about. Just tell me what it says, please.”
“Cullen said that you two have been having an affair.”
“What?” Leslie said, aghast. “I’d never do that, Soph. Never. Why would he say that?”
“So, it’s not true,” I said, my voice faltering with emotion.
“Of course not. It’s complete bullshit,” Leslie said, her face reddening. “What else does the letter say?”
“That he feels guilty and that’s why he left,” I said.
“No,” Leslie protested. “Soph, I wouldn’t do that to you. You know how much you mean to me. I can’t believe he’d say that.”
I held out a picture to her. It was a selfie of her and Cullen smiling. They were in downtown Dublin. I recognized the outfits and the location.
“This was the day you ditched me to go have dinner with Sam.” I was angry now and shouting. “I was supposed to go shopping with you. You told me you were going to Sam’s. Cullen said that he had to go back to the office so I went home. Tell me, Leslie. Tell me why there is a picture of you two together. You both look so happy.”
Tears streamed down her face.
“I…Cullen called me.”
“What?” Now tears were streaming down my face, too.
“Don’t cry, Sophia. It wasn’t like that. Yes, we were together that day. You’re right,” Leslie admitted.
“Get out!” I shouted. “I don’t want to hear it.”
“You have to listen to me. Let me explain.”
Our eyes met, tears rolling down both of our cheeks.
“Please, believe me,” Leslie said.
“I don’t know what to believe anymore,” I admitted.
“I’ll be at Sam’s place,” Leslie said, sadly, “Call me when you’re ready to listen.”
She turned and walked out of the house and my heart broke for the second time in a month.
FIFTY-NINE
“ Ye all right?” Sam asked as he entered the house.
“Sam, what are you doing here?”
“Leslie showed up at my place a couple of hours ago,” he said, looking towards his feet. “Look, Sophia, I’m really sorry.”
“So am I,” I agreed, taking a seat back on the couch.
“I thought ye might be in need of a friend so I brought dinner,” he said holding up, and shaking a large brown paper bag.
I hadn’t eaten since lunch and I’d already had two glasses of wine. Food was probably a good idea.
“Hope ye like noodles,” he said, placing the containers on the tabletop. “I brought a bottle of wine as well, but I see ye’ve got that taken care of.”
I grimaced. “Help yourself. The plates are in the press to the right of the stove.” I got up from the couch and walked to the kitchen table.
“Say ye’ve an appetite, lass. Otherwise I’ll have to eat the lot.”
“I’ll try,” I said, scooping some of the noodles onto the plate he’d handed me. “Did Leslie know you were coming here?” I asked, taking my first bite. The words had sounded a little bitter as I said them but I couldn’t help myself.
Sam poured himself a drink and sat down in front of his own heaping plate before answering. “She agreed ye shouldn’t be alone.” He paused again. “Not to upset ye, lass, but what do ye think of the letter? Do you believe her when she says they were no together?”
“I wanted to,” I said swirling my wine glass in a clockwise fashion. “But I don’t understand why Cullen would write it if it wasn’t true, and I don’t know how else to explain his disappearance.”
“Gah, that makes sense. It’s difficult to swallow, to be sure,” Sam noted. “Either yer friend is lyin’ or yer man is.”
“I can’t eat anymore,” I said, getting to my feet.
“I apologize. I shouldn’t have said that. I’ll just shut my gob from here on out,” Sam said, standing to clear the table.
He put the leftovers in the fridge and I couldn’t help but think how I’d misjudged him.
“It’s not what you said, Sam.” I walked to the window and stared off into the trees, practically willing Cullen to appear. “I just can’t get my head around what’s happening. I don’t believe that Leslie betrayed me. I’ve known her since we were kids. Everything in my head and heart tells me she would never do this, but then again it says the same thing about Cullen, and here is a letter telling me from his own mouth that it’s true. Not to mention this photo. This photo has me perplexed. Why would they ditch me and then go out alone and snap photos of themselves?”
I was feeling a little woozy. I was pretty sure I’d had another two glasses in the hour that Sam had been there. I took a seat on the couch and sipped my glass anyway. I wanted to forget. I wanted to numb the ache in my heart and throat.
“Sometimes people let us down,” Sam said, taking the seat beside me. “Even those we love and trust the most. When it comes down to it, humans are pretty weak creatures.”
“Or,” I said, reaching for the letter. “Maybe there is another explanation.”
“Go on,” Sam said.
“What if Cullen didn’t write the letter?” I said. “After all, only the envelope is in his handwriting. The letter is typed, so it could be from anyone.”
I handed it to him. It was creased from the amount of time I spent crumpling it in my fist earlier.
“Like who?”
“I don’t know,” I admitted. “Whoever has him. I just can’t figure out the motive. I mean, I can see that someone could have written the letter as another prank, like the cell phone, but why?”
“Some prank,” Sam said. “And what about everythin’ ye just said, lass—about the photo from their date? Are ye sure ye’re not just kiddin’ yerself? I mean, I can understand that ye don’t want to believe what it says but what about his phone? Did ye check his phone?”
I shook my head no but I started to cry. The truth was I had checked his phone and I’d found several calls to Leslie on it, but I wasn’t going to admit that out loud.
“I can see I touched on a sore spot and I’m sorry for it but it might be best for ye to start seein’ the truth.” Sam reached over and took me in his arms, rocking me back and forth.
I pulled away, finally able to compose myself. “I’ve had a lot to drink, I should go to bed.”
“Aye, it’s late. I guess I should be gettin’ on.”
I cleared my throat and wiped my eyes with my sleeve. “You can’t drive, Sam, you’ve been drinking. I can call you a cab or you can sleep on the couch if you want. “
My reflexes were a little slow, and before I knew it Sam had leaned in and was kissing me.
“No,” I said, pulling back from the kiss. I turned away and touched my lips. “This isn’t right.”
“I’m sorry,” Sam replied. “It felt right to me. Maybe this is what is supposed to happen.”
“It’s not,” I dismissed.
“But why not?” he said.
“Because I love Cullen,” I said, turning back to face him.
Sam’s face grew red. “But he betrayed ye. They both betrayed us.”
“I don’t know if I believe any of that.”
Sam got to his feet silently, looking like he’d just been slapp
ed in the face.
“How can ye still love him, after everything he’s putting ye through?” Sam said. “How could ye still love someone who could run out before your weddin’ and have an affair with your friend?”
“Because I don’t think he did it!” I replied, realizing only when I yelled it that it was the truth. I honestly didn’t believe any of it but I couldn’t explain it and it was driving me crazy.
Sam shook his head. “Ye’re too trustin’,” he said.
“Why are you so sure?” I said. “What makes you think they had an affair?”
Sam pursed his lips as if he were going to say something but stopped short. I was on the brink of tears, anticipating the blow I was about to receive.
“Tell me what you were going to say,” I pressed.
“It doesn’t matter.” He shook his head.
“Did she admit it to you?” My voice had turned shrill. I couldn’t control it.
He bit his lip.
“No way,” I said, shaking my head. “I don’t believe you.”
“Gah, woman, it doesn’t matter what anyone tells ye. You’re a fool!” he said.
I flinched.
“I’m sorry. That was rude,” he said, holding his hands up. “Look, Sophia, it’s just that maybe ye’re too good for him.”
I took a step backwards. “Get out! You’re angry and hurt because you think Leslie cheated on you, and you’re after revenge sex and I’m not interested.”
“No,” he said defensively. “Don’t say that. I’m not after revenge. Sophia, I think ye’re a bloody amazing woman and I really am attracted to ye.”
His words repulsed me, however sincerely he might have meant them, and I lashed out again. I wanted to hold it in but it felt so good to yell at someone, to release all the pain I’d been feeling for the last week. “I don’t care how you feel about me,” I screamed. “Even if Cullen and Leslie are guilty of an affair, there’s no way in hell that I’d ever be with you.”
Sam just stood there for a moment, gazing at me like a hurt puppy dog.
“Please go,” I said, turning to the door. “I can’t deal with this right now.”
Cruel Fortunes Omnibus: Volumes One to Four Page 63
