She heard a soft knock and her heart leapt. "Yes?"
"I've brought you a meal tray," a soft voice said.
"Come in."
The door opened and the same serving maid who'd poured their earlier wine entered. She moved across the room and set the silver tray down upon the bed.
"Is everyone having their meals in their chambers," Kelsey asked.
"Aye, the queen sent up trays to everyone. Will you require anything else, Queen's-Commander?"
"No. Wait. Yes, a question," Kelsey said. "You don't have to answer if you don't want to."
The maid looked perplexed, but nodded.
"How well do you know Patrick Bannion?"
The girl smiled. "Very well, Queen's-Commander."
"He's just a boy."
A dreamy look crossed the maid's face. "Nay, Queen's-Commander. Master Patrick's no boy, at least not when it comes to lovin'."
"Thank you," Kelsey said. "That will be all."
A small smile curved the girl's lips as she walked from the room. Kelsey frowned. Did Rourk know of his son's activities with the ladies? What about Caitlan? She shrugged the questions away. This wasn't the world she'd grown up in. Maybe things were different here and, besides, Patrick wasn't her problem. Well, unless it involved her nephew. She'd just keep her eyes and ears open when she was around those two
She removed the napkin from the meal tray. It was piled high with roasted beef, cheese, and still warm rolls. A small purple gourd, sliced down the middle, rested in another small dish on the side of the tray. With a grateful sigh she began to eat.
*****
Kelsey's hand trembled as she turned the knob and pushed the door to Tessa's private solar inward. A wave of dampness drenched her face as she stepped into the world of greenness. She breathed in the scent of wet earthy loam and the heady spice of orchids in full bloom. Grass brushed the hems of her jeans. From overhead came the raucous cry of a startled bird. A large one, judging from the moisture that bathed her head as it launched from a limb. Laughing, she ran her fingers through her hair.
"Over here, Kelsey," Rourk called.
She took a deep breath, willed her heartbeat to slow as she moved toward the voice.
He stood at the edge of where the meadow began. A full moon floated from behind a swatch of clouds and cast a silvery sheen over the grass.
"Come, let us talk here." He moved toward a small gazebo.
Vines grew up the gazebo's sides and across its top. Inside was an intimate nest of green. A small bench followed the curved sides of the gazebo. Rourk waited until she had settled into place, then sat across from her. Their knees touched and Kelsey felt an electric jolt course through her.
Rourk licked his lips.
She inhaled a deep shuddering breath. "It's been a long time."
"Yes," Rourk said. "A very long time."
"You son has become quite a young man."
"He has his mother's looks."
"But your size," Kelsey said.
"Life has been good to you?" Rourk said.
"Yes."
She saw a muscle twitch in Rourk's jaw.
"Why did you leave me without a good-bye?" His voice was soft, but anger underlined each word.
Kelsey knew the question would come. She'd practiced her glib answer over and over, but now the words stuck in her throat. She just shook her head.
"I returned only moments after you'd left for the rift." He stared hard into her face and she could not look away. "Kelsey, so much needed to be said."
"What?" she managed to get out. "What needed said? Your wife and son were alive. What we had was over. It had to be."
Rourk ran his fingers through his hair. "So you cast me from your heart and rode away?"
Kelsey dug her fingernails into the palms of her hands. "I couldn't stay. You think I could watch you and her, day after day? Your son I could deal with, even grow to love, but watch you with her...." Her voice caught, and she tore her gaze from his.
"I could not," he murmured. The words were spoken so softly she wasn't sure she'd heard them.
"What?"
"I could not love Caitlan. At first I thought it was the time we'd been apart. We were as strangers. But it did not change. I found myself thinking constantly of you."
She reached and touched his hand. "Rourk, I'm sorry."
He stared at the fingers that touched his for a long moment, then moved his hand away. "I love my son, but the years we were apart are hard to overcome."
"It's been seven years. By now—"
He drew back from her. "It is better between us."
Kelsey felt her stomach seize. He'd drawn a line he didn't want her to cross, and she couldn't blame him.
Rourk took a deep breath. "When his mother was killed…"
Kelsey's body jerked. "What?"
Rourk shuddered. "If we hadn't fought—"
"She's dead?" Kelsey said and the image of Patrick's smirking face when she asked if his mother was joining them for dinner skimmed across her mind.
"You didn't know?" Rourk said.
"No." She delivered the word more tersely than she'd planned. "How ... when?"
"She said she needed time to think, so she left to go to the village of her mother." His face paled. "Some time that night, she left Patrick and her mother and slipped away. My son found her body the next day. She had been savaged by wild beasts."
Kelsey knew the answer, but she asked the question anyway. "Your fight. It was about me, wasn't it?" She held her breath as she waited for his answer.
"Yes."
Kelsey released her breath in a gush. "Oh, God."
"She could not fight a ghost," Rourk said. "That is what she screamed at me." She watched his hands clench, release, and then clench again.
He's free. I'm free.
Rourk shook his head. "Enough of me. I am happy to see that you have at least found love."
"What?"
He glanced at her hand. "Why aren't you wearing your ring?"
"I—"
"It is better this way. My son needs all of the love I can muster now." Rourk stood. "It's good we talked. I am happy for you and your new life."
Tell him, her mind screamed. What? To love me again, only to leave in three more days. I can't.
"I know you can't make the wedding," she said, forcing herself to smile. "But I wanted all of you to hear about Duncan from me."
Rourk turned away from her. "I'm sure he is a wonderful man, Kelsey, but that is all I wish to know." Without looking back, he walked away from her. "I will see you in the morn."
Go after him. He still loves you. That's why he doesn't want to know anything about Duncan.
"I can't," she whispered to his departing back. "It isn't fair." She waited until he was out of sight, and then let the tears come.
Back in her chamber, she picked up the diamond ring and held it beneath a stream of moonlight. She'd wear it for the time she was here and let everyone think she would marry Duncan, but when she returned, she'd give it back to him. Duncan deserved a woman who could give him her heart. Hers would always remain in Daradawn.
*****
"I will go." Regan's soft voice gave lie to a body that quivered with suppressed rage. She crossed the room and took a deep breath. Smiling down at her sleeping daughter, she caressed a soft cheek.
"You will not," Peter said. "You will remain here at the castle with our daughter and son."
She whirled to face him. "It's Zara's young that was killed. She's the Goddess's avatar."
"You are my wife and mother of my children. Do we not count?"
Catherine stirred inside her cradle.
"Keep your voice down," Regan said. "Of course you count. What a stupid question."
"Who will feed Catherine?" Peter said. "And we have not paid enough attention to Daniel these past months."
"Zara is filled with pain and rage. She'll do something if I don't calm her."
"I understand," Peter said. "But you do not need
to go to Enid-Etain. Kelsey wears the moonstone pendant and, with you wearing the earrings, she can speak to you at will. You can mind-speak Zara from here."
His words made sense, and she hated it. She loved her children and motherhood, but the lack of action drove her crazy. When had she last been anything but wife and mother? She bore the blue flame, but it might as well be a tacky tattoo for all of the use it'd been put to lately. She was Thea, chosen of the Goddess. She was needed.
"Regan, do you hear my words?" Peter's voice rose, and Catherine let out a shrill cry.
"Now look what you did." Regan rushed to the cradle and scooped her daughter into her arms.
"Perhaps she is hungry."
Regan glanced sharply at him. "I fed her just a little while ago. She probably needs changing."
Peter reached for Catherine. "I will do it."
Regan handed him the baby and watched as he changed Catherine's swaddling with loving skill. By the Goddess, what was wrong with her? She was so lucky to have a man who loved her and their two beautiful children. The love she felt for them sometimes stole her breath and she felt she'd die from pain if something ever happened to one of them. It was the reason her rage burned so hot that one of Zara's young was so savagely killed. She watched Peter pick up their daughter and cuddle her close to his heart.
"You're right. With Kelsey here, there's nothing I can do in Enid-Etain that I can't do here," she said. But, she added beneath her breath, "Kelsey is only here for three more days and, if things aren't taken care of by then, it's a whole new ball game."
Peter smiled down into Catherine's face. "She has your nose."
"Did you notice the Power's mark upon her thigh?"
"I saw."
Their gazes met.
"As far as I know a child has never been born from two of the Power's chosen," Peter said.
"Maybe the fact we both have the Power will cancel it out in Catherine?" Regan said.
"Perhaps. We will have to wait and see." He placed his sleeping daughter into her cradle. "It makes no difference. Whatever is to be, we will deal with." He straightened and faced Regan. "It is Daniel I wish to talk with you about."
She sighed. "I know. Our son's feeling neglected."
"And has become too much under control of Patrick Bannion."
Regan's brow furrowed. "What do you mean? Hero worship is part of growing up."
Peter frowned. "Something about Rourk's son bothers me."
She laughed. "He's a teenage boy. Just wait until ours becomes a teenager."
Peter smiled. "Perhaps you are right."
"I know we've got some jealousy waters ahead of us needing to be crossed," Regan said.
"I have asked Kelsey to help. She says she understands how it is to go from being an only to becoming one of two."
"An only?"
"An only child," Peter said. "She remembers her feelings when you were brought home."
Regan grinned. "We had some interesting times as we grew up. We're so different." Regan gasped and pressed her palms against her temples. Her legs began to tremble and she moved unsteadily toward the bed.
"What is it?" Peter said.
"Zara calls."
*****
Ben Samson walked among the shadowy rows of climbing vines. Here and there an opening provided a swath of moonlight. He picked a purple gourd, cracked it open on a rock and scooped a handful of the seeds free.
Chewing, he stared up at the suspended orb of white, not seeing it, but the mercurial changing face of Kinsey Marie Brown; her chin tilted toward him, her dark eyes laughing and challenging, her full lips curving into a smile that begged to be showered with kisses.
Her father, Joshua Brown, had been his boss, and the man had no desire to see his daughter with an upstart of a stockbroker. And then had come the scandal and accusations of insider trading. False accusations, but enough to send him spiraling downward. He'd lost his house, car, everything, but Kinsey had stood beside him, defying the world. Tears filled his eyes and overflowed down his cheeks. But he had not stood by her when she'd told him of her pregnancy. He'd panicked, not voicing the words she needed to hear. Instead, he'd blurted abortion or, at the very least, adoption. He could not care for himself. How could he care for them?
Ben threw the purple gourd onto the ground at his feet.
She'd changed into an ebony statue as he'd watched. With stiff lips and a voice devoid of feeling, she'd promised to think about his suggestions, and then she'd walked away.
He'd let booze spiral him deep into uncaring forgetfulness. Once, in booze-sloppy tears, he called her house, only to be told that she had miscarried the child, so he had nothing to concern himself about. And he'd bought it.
Ben crushed the purple gourd with the heel of his sandal. It had been so much easier that way. In time he turned himself around, but never again had he tried to see Kinsey.
His heart had seized at seeing Delilah. She had her mother's eyes and his stubborn chin. He did not doubt she was his daughter. But why come here? What did she want? She was a stranger to him. "Kinsey, my heart. My love..."
"You did love her." The soft words came from behind him.
Ben did not turn. He knew she'd find him. He heard her quick breathing as she circled to stand in front of him. She wore her jeans and the leather jacket. Did she ever remove the jacket? Each time he'd seen her, she had it on, her hands always thrust deep into its pockets.
The wan moonlight bleached the color from her skin, making her look like a gray spirit. Maybe that's what she is, a ghost who's come to haunt me for my miserable past.
Delilah pulled her hands from the jacket's pockets and rubbed them along the legs of her jeans. "You did love her," she said again. This time the words were tinged with uncertainty.
"I loved her."
His daughter looked away. "Her, but not me."
"I don't know you."
She stared hard at him. "But you knew of me."
Ben looked away. "They told me Kinsey lost the baby."
"You knew better, didn't you?"
He didn't answer and she took a step closer to him.
"Tell me the truth. You owe me that."
Ben twisted a vine's tendril around his middle finger. "When I finally got sober I figured they'd lied to me," he said at last.
He heard her quick intake of breath. "You never tried to find us."
"Ten years had passed. You wouldn't know me. I figured you had a father. One who loved you, one you could be proud of."
Delilah snorted a bitter laugh. "Oh, I had fathers. Five of them. All carefully selected by my grandfather, but none of them could touch the Ice Queen's heart."
Ben frowned. "The Ice Queen?"
"That's what daddy number two called her. The Ice Queen." Delilah smiled. "At first I thought it was a beautiful name, but then I grew up." The girl's eyes narrowed. "When you took your dive into booze-oblivion, you took my mother's heart with you."
He looked away.
"I suppose you want to know why I've looked you up."
Ben nodded, knowing words would not make it by the dread in his throat.
"I didn't know about you until three years ago. I thought you were dead. Killed in a hunting accident before I was born."
Ben cringed. "I was dead."
Delilah glanced down at the diamond ring she wore. "I have a son."
"A son? You are way too young."
"Like mother, like daughter," she said with a harsh, bitter laugh. "I didn't marry his father, but our little fling kept me from completing medical school. The man was below me, my grandfather's words, and for once he was right."
"The ring?"
"Nicholas gave me this ring." She held up a hand to stop his next question. "You don't have the right to play papa, but I'll answer you anyway. Yes, I care for him. And, more important, he loves my son."
"Your son. What's his name?"
"Your grandson's name is Joshua Benford Samson."
Ben swallowed hard. He had
n't heard that name in what seemed a thousand years. His grandma had been the only one to ever call him Benford. "Thank you."
Delilah said nothing. They both stared upward at the moon. Ben felt a shiver travel his spine.
"My son has leukemia," she said.
Ben jerked his head toward her.
"He's dying. We need a marrow donor." Tears filled her eyes and ran down her cheeks. She rubbed them away with an angry swipe of her hand. "Hundreds from grandpa's corporation have been tested, and the whole damn family. Everyone I know by name, even strangers on the street." Her voice broke and she swallowed before adding. "Not one is a match."
Ben stared hard at her, then his lips curled in a mirthless smile. "You want me to be tested."
She didn't flinch or look away. "Yes."
His shoulders sagged. So what had he expected? Of course she needed him for something. Why else had she looked him up?
She stood, waiting for him to speak. The words weren't spoken. But he felt them in the air between them, you owe me.
"We will return to the rift tomorrow," Ben said.
With a stiff nod, Delilah turned and walked away. Ben watched until her slight figure became lost in the darkness, and then turned and walked in the opposite direction. The aching need to see and touch Margeaux surged through him.
*****
With a stomach more twisted than the upward curling path he climbed, Ben went over the words his daughter had thrown at him, a grandson ill with leukemia and in need of bone marrow.
And Kinsey, a never-forgotten love who had closed her heart when she'd walked away from him carrying his unborn child.
His stomach clenched and he stopped, doubling over with pain. If his words to Kinsey had been different, would he have been a part of Delilah's life, steering her to the right choices, preventing the dark shadows nesting in her eyes today?
Shaking his head, Ben continued to climb. The ledge widened and he saw the entrance to the cave. Soft light glowed from inside. He stopped at the entrance.
The Emerald Dagger (Daradawn Book 2) Page 8
