Mairi shook her head, unable to say anything as the reality of her own situation and that of her cousins was becoming even more obvious.
“Yes,” Appoloin ventured, “the metamorphosis from caterpillar to butterfly, will not be a straightforward one, but to be here, in this time, it is fascinating to behold a new era begin and life renew.”
Mairi sat quietly, listening to Appoloin’s words. She noted that his eyes sparkled with enthusiasm, and he held her spellbound. He could answer her question so eloquently, so vehemently, and with such passion, a passion of which she was only too aware and she blushed prettily as she recalled their night together. It was a totally inappropriate thought, considering the discussion they were having, and she returned her attention to hear more.
Appoloin was watching her carefully. He had finished his explanation, but Mairi appeared pensive, though a hint of pink highlighted her cheeks. She looked edible, he thought, a flash of the night previous crossing his mind, and his lucid recollections made him remember just how edible she was! The thought caused an unusual sensation, with his human body’s temperature and it began to rise. His discomfort became apparent, and he could feel the heat in his face. He needed to escape, his wings beginning to free themselves from their tight bindings across his back.
He struggled to keep them bound, concentrating on Mairi.
He choked back words, having difficulty speaking. “Um… er, Mairi, are you well?”
Mairi, lost in her own happy contemplations, jumped upon hearing her name.
“Well, em…” she stammered, before regaining her composure. “That’s all and well, Appoloin,” she ground out, now fully in control. “I’m very well aware of the history of the country, but I never intended to live in the history I read about in school, and that does not excuse you keeping the truth of this to yourself. You should have told me what you were about and not let me find out from Baglis. By the way, just who is Baglis?”
Appoloin’s disquiet melted away, and he smiled at the mention of the name Baglis. “Well, some say she is Angel, others that she is one of the Fae, and many actually call her Witch. I am not sure which entity she is, but I am grateful for her presence.”
“Well, she’s not here any more. She disappeared, saying she had to get ready for ‘the wedding’. What was she talking about?”
“Haven’t a clue, m’dear, could be anything at all. The woman is a complete mystery, and I’m quite glad of that. I would hate to look deeply into her past and be disappointed or overwhelmed by what I might find.”
Mairi doubted he was telling the truth again, but decided to refrain from asking more about Baglis. ‘The truth would unfold’, as they say.
“Did you think I could be easily hidden in this century? Surely with all that is happening, it would be the first place they would look for me?”
“Why would they look here? They will be busy searching your time. When they’ve exhausted the many places in that time, every country, town, building you could be hidden in, they may begin to look elsewhere. If they did look here,”—Appoloin, having returned to his meal, raised his eyes from his plate, but continued to eat and scanned her face—“they will have a hard time finding us. I have left no trail. I have informed no one of when or where I have taken you.” He placed his knife on the polished table, helping himself to another slice of toast. “Mairi, you will be amongst many people in this time, none of whom knows you, but they will be friends and keep you safe. That, together with our unique bond, will make it almost impossible for anyone to find you. They may search—in fact, they will definitely make serious attempts at locating you—but it will take them longer than they expected, given all that is going on in this time. And by then, we will be aware of their presence, and I can remove you from here to another time.”
“Oh my God, what?” she screeched. “You’re taking me to another time if the nineteenth century doesn’t work out? When will you take me the next time?”
Appoloin shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “I have not made any formal conclusions on that plan, but I believe it will be farther back in time than I had originally intended.”
Mairi huffed. Lifting her knife from the table, she balanced it on her fingers, then closed them tightly around the handle, holding it firmly in her hand. “Had you any intention of divulging any of this to me, or am I just to go meekly along with the plans you have made?”
“For a start, Mairi, I doubt you go meekly anywhere, but yes, I believe the plans I have decided upon and arranged, plus any future plans, are for your benefit. They are set up to keep you from harm. So I would hope you would agree to come, meekly or otherwise,” he said irritably. “What problem is it you and your cousins have in understanding the danger you are in? Why is this so difficult for you to comprehend? I must keep you protected, at all times, so I hope you would agree to come with me.
“Valerie is safe with Seere, and you know that Lauren is well guarded at Castle Tioram, with her husband, Forcas. It is imperative that you remain alive and well. The only way I could think of keeping you from danger was to pull you back in time, or take you to another dimension. Which would you have preferred?” He was so exasperated and was uncertain if the cause was him not sharing everything with her, or the fact she was asking questions he most definitely did not want to answer.
“I’m sorry, Appoloin,” she said testily. “I understand your need to protect, but I have a life—”
“You won’t if Lucias finds you!” He stood up and angrily threw his napkin onto his plate, then pounded his fist forcibly on the table. Two footmen rushed forward and removed his plate immediately. Appoloin, frustrated at having to be attended to by others, turned a furious look at Mairi and ushered the footmen away.
“Am I talking to wood? What problem have you, that this does not permeate that brain of yours? All that we are undertaking, is for your own protection, for your own good. Why must the three of you Mistdreamers—” He didn’t finish his sentence. The words would not be said as she would understand them.
Mairi was as frustrated as Appoloin but had to admit, even to herself, that what the Angels were trying to achieve was for the benefit of her and her cousins. They were hoping to provide safe haven for them. She knew she sounded petty and spoilt, but to wake up in another century, surely that was a reason to be a bit petulant?
She also recognised the Angels’ justifications in removing her from the life she was building were not purely altruistic—there was a reason the Angels were so earnest in their struggle to ensure their safety. They needed her and her cousins to do their spying for them, and that, it appeared, was justification enough.
She struggled with her emotions, finding herself in a state of inner turmoil that she hadn’t had since her teens. Her strength would carry her through this momentary lapse in life alteration, and she was determined not to be a simpering burden. Up until now, she had kept her tears at bay, but she found herself struggling to keep them from spilling over.
They were not tears of worry, or sadness. They were tears of frustration tinged with anger and a considerable amount of pent-up grief she had not had the opportunity to work through. Somehow, she pulled upon her strength and managed to turn a small smile toward Appoloin.
“Sit, Appoloin. I’m sorry,” she said sweetly. “I do appreciate all that you, Seere, and Forcas are doing for us, really I do.” She paused dramatically, as though searching for the right words to appease him, when, in truth, she was fighting to keep her temper from boiling over. “It’s just… it’s just…well, I have a life, in the twenty-first century. I’m making a name for myself. I’m doing something I’ve always wanted to do.”
“I appreciate that, Mairi, I do,” he said sincerely, “but if we cannot stop Lucias, you will not have a life at all. He wants to kill you, can you understand that?”
And there it was, that irksome temper of hers, fraying at the edges. She snarled at him, “Can I understand why my half brother wants to kill me, or why my loving mother hates me? No, I can make no
sense of that in the slightest. I have no idea what their problems are, apart from him being in love with Valerie and wanting me dead. Go figure!
“Why is it we are suddenly so important? We’ve hidden from Angels for decades. Why is it you need us now? Is the end of the world nigh? Are we the next atomic bomb in female form?” Her laugh was not of amusement; she could not conceal her resentment.
“Can’t you just sort him out without resorting to removing all of us from all we know and love? Why don’t you use some Angelic power and evaporate him? Don’t you have laser eyes or lightning swords, or something that would rid the world of a rodent like Lucias?”
“No, we don’t, and no, we can’t eradicate Lucias using our ‘super’ powers. Where do you get such ideas, Mairi?”
Appoloin said no more. Mairi had been a little too close to the truth with her own observations, and he needed time to put everything in order. He lay his elbows on the table and put his hands into a praying position; then, he calmly positioned his head on his thumbs. He tapped his fingers against his lips, casually observing Mairi, waiting for her next rage. When she did not move or speak, he lowered an eyebrow, his expression one of wearisome expectancy. Still nothing came, yet he waited because he knew it would.
Mairi’s heart fell to the floor. She had never felt as let down or disappointed in anyone as she felt now. “I’m hungry,” she said, turning her head away from him in displeasure. “Would you ask your servants to bring me something? I need to eat,” she asked, whilst staring at her empty plate.
She never failed to surprise him, and this change of direction in her mood oddly disturbed him. He tried to cajole her into responding by asking a few more simple questions, but she ignored him, her eyes downcast, her back straight, and her hands sitting one on top of the other and placed on her thighs. Her full lips were always pouted, but this time there was a tightness at the corners, a sign she was unhappy.
Appoloin decided he preferred her anger to her indifference. This was not good, he thought. He had to somehow get her back in touch with her emotions, even if they might cause seismic waves!
Beckoning a footman, he ordered a healthy breakfast, and asked that toast be included. As a special treat, he requested a portion of Cook’s famous marmalade be brought also, remembering Mairi’s fondness for the confection. Mairi continued looking at her plate, with no reaction.
They sat in silence for several minutes, until Mairi had been served. Another rack of toasted bread was placed before Appoloin, and he helped himself to a slice, liberally spreading it with freshly churned butter, and then topped it with the marmalade. The footman waited, pot at the ready, to pour him a strong cup of black coffee. He hoped Mairi would look toward him when he spread the delightful, sweet orange delight atop the bread, but her head was down, her eyes concentrating on the food before her as she solemnly continued to eat. She shared no appreciation of any of the aromatic gastronomic delights she was consuming.
She ate without enjoyment. It was simply a bodily function, the process of eliminating hunger pangs.
Another footman brought a pot of tea for Mairi, and lay jugs of cream and milk, together with a bowl of what Mairi presumed must be sugar on the table. He poured her a cup of tea, and the footman standing to the right of Appoloin’s chair proceeded to pour the delicious, aromatic coffee into Appoloin’s white, bone china cup. The delicious smell wafted across the table to Mairi, and she closed her eyes, enjoying the aroma.
“I’m sorry. I should have asked. Would you have preferred coffee, Mairi?” Appoloin asked apologetically.
“Why ask, Appoloin? Just do what you always do and make my mind up for me!”
Better, he thought. At last some response, even if it was an angry one.
“I meant to say you look perfectly lovely in that gown. The blue silk suits you.”
“The whale-bone corset, and hoops, plus no bra, and no pants, don’t, though. How would you like to walk about all day hardly able to breathe because bones are sticking into your side?” she snapped.
Even better, he thought.
“Did Baglis not help you into the corsets? She had them ‘specially’ designed for you—her invention, or so I’m informed,” he said, a wry smile on his face, which Mairi would have taken delight in slapping away. Inwardly grumbling, she realised he brought out her violent side!
It was true, when Baglis had helped her dress, the corset she had dreaded wearing had been featherlight, with no restriction at all to her breathing. All it did, in fact, was pull her tiny waist in and push her breasts up, showing the lovely orbs to perfection, in the low-cut bodice of the dress. It clung, perfectly, to her body, enhancing her figure, but she would rather die than share that bit of information with him. It would be better to let him believe her to be in breathless agony rather than allow him knowledge of how comfortable she was in the clothes, and the underclothes, she wore. He would be insufferable…
He was insufferable.
“If I eat any more, I will not be able to fit into any gowns at all. Please ask your servants to remove my plate, Appoloin.”
Her reference, made twice now, to ‘servants’ was starting to irritate him. “They are not ‘servants’, Mairi. I have no servants,” he said, his own anger beginning to boil.
That response caused a slight questioning look from her. “Then why do they serve you, if they are not servants?”
“Because that is their job. They run this house, and run it without interference from me. They know what their positions involve, and ‘serving’ me and you is part of their employ. They accept this and are accustomed to this part of their job. Would you rather I end their employment, throw them out, or can they continue keeping this house in the manner to which they are accustomed, and one that pleases them to do?”
“Ha!” Mairi exploded. “You honestly think people want to serve you? Are you so bloody arrogant that you think we are here to do your bidding all the time and like it?” She is a goddess, he thought as he watched her, in full flow, a torrent of anger unleashed towards him. “You opinionated, self-indulgent, self-centred, arrogant—”
“That’s twice you’ve said ‘arrogant’. You seem to be running out of words in the English language, and I can assure you, there are so many more—” Appoloin stopped speaking abruptly as a poached egg hit him in the face!
“Prick!” she screamed and picked up the remnants of her breakfast and threw it all over him.
Mairi furtively inspected the footmen, who remained stock still, not a flicker of emotion passing their faces, but she could see shock, humour, and amazement hidden in the depths of their eyes when Appoloin, using the napkin he had discarded, regally wiped the sopping egg from his face. A blob of yellow dripped from his nose onto his golden threaded waistcoat.
Mairi’s eyes widened and she covered her mouth, desperately trying to conceal the giggles that were threatening to escape. She could no longer contain them, and they exploded into the room’s tense atmosphere, causing it to fill with a golden light. The footmen who, until this point, had remained professional and remarkably remote also snorted—because it could surely not be called a laugh. Mairi, however, was fairly certain that was exactly what it was.
When she at last got a grip on her hilarity, she waited until Appoloin had put himself to rights, then, with an inclination of her head towards the footmen, she whispered, “they know what you are, I’m told?”
“Yes, Mairi, they know I am an Angel, and that you are a person out of your own place and time.” His statement reminded her of the reason for their quarrel.
She took a deep breath. “Oh, yes, that. You could have told me, Appoloin. I would have understood. Can you not see my side of things? It was a shock to find out I was in another century. I was lost and felt as though, in some small way, you had betrayed me. Oh…” She hesitated, fighting to find the right words, but none were there that could explain how she felt. “I’m saying this all wrong.” She sighed.
“Trust me when I say this, Mairi
,” he said sincerely, “there was no intentional betrayal. It was a necessary caution, to keep you in the dark, so to speak. I could trust nobody and did not want words to be overheard by the wrong people.”
“I know that now. It doesn’t make it any easier to accept, especially after what we shared last night.” She became uncomfortable and her face reddened.
“Shall we continue with our breakfast, Mairi? And we can talk more. There is much you will need to know about this century.”
“Please don’t brush away my concerns so flippantly, Appoloin. I think the only thing that is going through my mind about this century,” she said nervously, “is the fact that women are second-class citizens with no voice at all.”
Appoloin considered her statement for a few seconds before continuing. “Women do not have the right to vote, but never think they have no voice. They can reason and persuade, their sons may be leaders in the future, their daughters will be attentive and learn, and then they too will teach another generation. They most definitely do have a voice. Some of the most powerful women in history are alive in this century.”
“But they can’t vote and have no say in whomsoever their family decide they should marry. How is that having a voice?” She stumbled, looking once again for the right words. “I would rather never marry if doing so meant I had to marry someone I didn’t love. It’s all about money and power, and the little lady has to go along with everything quietly.”
“You belittle your own sex too easily, Mairi. Yes, they are placed into marriages of convenience, but in that marriage, they rule the house and can introduce changes of great import.”
“Hmph,” Mairi muttered sourly. “You know as well as I that the crimes committed against women in this century are generally considered to be either their fault, or they are not investigated at all. A whore can be raped, a wife can be raped, hell, any woman can be raped, and not only will nothing be done, but it is almost accepted as the norm.”
“The attacker, if the crime is acknowledged, will be deported,” he stated.
The Park Family: Mairi: Retribution Page 8
