Beauty and the Horseman's Head (Unnatural States of America Book 2)

by Holly Kelly

  “I helped her escape,” Hope said. “You don’t know the terrible things they were doing to her, what they planned to do to her.”

  “You stupid woman—” the werewolf began, and he then slapped his hands against his throat. His eyes bulged, and his face turned a blotchy crimson color.

  “Are you alright?” Hope asked.

  “Conall,” Mr. Henry chided. “Let him go.”

  Conall hesitated, giving the shifter a chance to reconsider how he should treat Hope in the future. Finally, he released him. The werewolf took in a gasping breath.

  Rose shook her head. “I told you not to provoke him, Richard.”

  He coughed. “I did not even look at him.”

  “Yes,” Rose said, her eyes sparkling, “well, he’s obviously taken a liking to the human girl.” The elf approached Conall hesitantly. “Your majesty, I don’t know if you remember me, but we met at a festival near the Chiffland village years ago.”

  Conall examined her, waiting for recognition to hit him. But he got nothing. “Sorry, I don’t remember you.”

  She shook her head. “No, it’s all right. I did not really expect you to remember. I am the daughter of a farmer. No one you would take notice of.”

  He nodded. “How did you end up here?”

  She shrugged. “I spurned the affections of a spell spinner and he banished me.”

  “He did not have the right to do that,” Conall said, wondering who had the audacity to banish her to another realm.

  “There’s not much I could do about it from this side.”

  “If you could go back, would you?” Hope asked.

  Rose turned to her. “If you had asked me that ten years ago, I would have said, ‘Yes, absolutely.’ But I am happy here. I have a husband, a daughter.”

  “Speaking of marriage,” Rebekah said, turning to Hope, “have you answered Conall?”

  Red blossomed in Hope’s cheeks. “I have.”

  “Well?” Rebekah asked. “What did you tell him?”

  “I told him yes.”

  “Oh, sweetie!” Rebekah rushed forward and threw her arms around her. “I am so happy for you. Have you decided on a date?”

  “We are hoping as soon as possible.”

  Rose spoke up. “Henry is a minister.”

  “No,” Hope gasped, turning to him. “You are?”

  “In a former life,” he said.

  “But I thought you were in the British army?”

  “I was a chaplain.”

  “Why, you sneaky bugger,” Hope said. “Why did you stop practicing?”

  “Are you kiddin’ me, missy?” he said. “Do I look like I made a good minister of the Lord? No. Out of respect for God, I hung my collar up long ago.”

  “But you can still perform marriages, cannot you?” Rebekah asked.

  “I suppose I can.”

  “Well, then, why not today?” She turned to Hope. “Or were you wanting a big ceremony?”

  Hope shook her head. “Oh, no, no. Nothing elaborate.” She turned to Conall. “What do you think? Are you really ready to marry me?”

  “I think we’d better get it over with. I don’t think I can last another day before I strip you naked and—”

  Hope slapped her hand over his mouth. Her face burned in embarrassment. He scrunched his eyes in confusion and tugged her hand away.

  “We would be married, Hope.”

  “You shouldn’t talk about such things,” she said.

  He chuckled. “Let me get this straight. It’s alright for a husband and wife to have sex, but we are never to talk about it?”

  “Right,” Hope said.

  “I don’t know about that,” Rebekah chuckled. “Victor and I talk about it.”

  “Well,” Hope said. “I guess it’s alright in private conversation between husband and wife, but not in mixed company.”

  “That is a relief,” Conall said.

  “So, Hope,” Rebekah said, “would you like to change for the ceremony? I have some lovely dresses Victor bought me in France last year that I think would look amazing on you. Would you like to try them on?”

  “Could I?” Hope asked.

  “Absolutely!” She turned to Rose. “Would you like to help?”

  Rose’s face lit up. “Sure.”

  Rebekah turned to Victor. “Dear, would you have Conall wash up? Oh, and have Agnes remove his stitches. I would like to have the service this afternoon, if possible.”

  And just like that, they were preparing for a wedding.

  * * * * *

  Hope stepped out the back door with Victor on her arm and said, “I appreciate you stepping in for my father.”

  “It’s the least I can do for all you’ve done for me.”

  A lump rose in her throat as she stepped into a lush garden filled with color. Conall stood between two towering trees, with Mr. Henry at his side. He wore the simple clothes she’s sewn for him. They did not look quite right on him. He was a prince. He was probably used to wearing fine clothes and living in a castle. What was she thinking? She could not do this to him. Where would they live? In the tiny cabin? What would they live on? Would Conall, brother to the Elvin king, become a lowly farmer? She could not ask it of him.

  Turning to Victor, she mumbled, “I am sorry, this is a mistake. I cannot do this.” She rushed back through the house, out the front door, and ran headlong into Conall.

  “Mrs. Jones, are you trying to run away?” he chided.

  She shook her head, tears streaming down her face. “I cannot do this to you. You are a prince, an elf, you deserve a better life than a simple farmer living in a small cabin on the edge of a rural human town.”

  “Who said anything about farming?”

  “See,” she said, her chin trembling, “you haven’t even thought it through.”

  “Actually, I have. Vladimir has offered me a job with The Order. I will be paid handsomely. And yes, we may have to live in the cabin until a proper house is built, but I think I can handle that. I survived eight years lying in the dirt under the floorboards. I think I can handle a few months in a soft bed, with a warm fire and you sleeping by my side.”

  Hope shook her head. “You are sacrificing too much.”

  “Hope,” Conall said, gently pressing under her chin to lift her head. “Look at me.”

  She blinked back the tears and raised her eyes to meet his.

  “I love you. I love you more than I have loved any other living soul. I cannot abide the thought of leaving you. I am sacrificing nothing. Marrying you is a selfish act on my part.”

  “Are you sure you’ll be happy?” she asked.

  “There are no sure things in life, but I think finding happiness with you is a safe bet.”

  “I guess you have considered everything.”

  “I never walk into things unprepared. Now, Mrs. Jones, are you ready to marry me and make me the happiest man alive?”

  Hope chuckled and wiped her tears away.

  Minutes later, they were married.

  There was no celebration. The town was in turmoil. The members of The Order left to search for Lavinia. Victor needed to make sure the townspeople were taken care of, and Rebekah was exhausted after her eventful day. They quickly ate some sweet cakes and went on their ways.

  There was one bright light on the horizon. Victor had given Conall the keys to a cute little cottage he’d acquired down the street. Hope’s heart lightened when they stepped up the cobble walkway to an adorable whitewashed home with glass windows. “It’s beautiful,” she gasped.

  Conall chuckled. “You are going to be so easy to please.”

  “It is lovely!” He swept her up in his arms and said, “I am glad you like it.” Adjusting her in his arms, he unlocked the door and they stepped inside.

  “Oh, it’s divine,” Hope said, looking at the shiny wood floor and blue flowered wall paper.

  Conall said, “I should get a fire going.” He set Hope down on her feet, and her heart started to pound. She tr
ied not to think about what tonight meant. It was too terrifying.

  “I will get water for the basin,” she said, “so we can wash up.”

  “Make sure you get enough for us to wash more than our hands,” he said with a glint in his eyes.

  Hope swallowed down the lump in her throat and nodded.

  Stepping outside, she found the well and filled her first bucket. Walking back into the house, she made her way to the bedroom to find the basin. When she walked into the room, the first thing she noticed was the massive bed. Well, it was massive to her. She’d never slept in a bed large enough for more than one person. She found a basin wide enough to sit in and poured the water.

  Fifteen minutes later, the basin was half full. Conall stepped into the room carrying a steaming cauldron. “I thought you might want warm water to wash in.”

  Hope’s throat was so tight, all she could manage was a nod.

  Conall poured in the steaming liquid and then swished his hand around in the water. “I think that is just right.” Then he turned to her and raised his eyebrows. “Are you nervous?”

  Again, she could not speak, but simply nodded.

  Conall took her in his arms. “You have nothing to be nervous about. I will be gentle with you.”

  His words were the opposite of soothing as her heart pounded even more.

  “Awe, love. I wish I could take your fear away.” He sighed and held her until her heart calmed. “Would you like me to leave you while you wash?”

  Hope nodded against his chest. He stepped back, looked down on her with concern in his eyes, and brushed a warm kiss over her lips. “I will be back in ten minutes.”

  Again, she nodded.

  When he shut the door behind him, she stripped off her clothes, sat in the basin, and began to wash. “Oh, Hope. You are pathetic. We are married. There is no place for shyness between us.” When she’d finished, she quickly toweled off and realized she had a major problem. She had absolutely nothing clean to put on.

  “Hope,” she chided herself, “you are being ridiculous. The marriage act does n-not require c-clothes.” Oh, great! Now her teeth were chattering. And she wasn’t even cold. She was simply trembling so hard her teeth were knocking together.

  Conall rapped on the door, and Hope’s heart pounded.

  “Hope? Can I come in?” he asked.

  Hope could not find her voice. The tightness in the throat was so bad she was having trouble breathing.

  “Hope?” he said. “I am coming in.”

  In a panic, Hope swiped up the blanket, covered herself from head to foot, and sank to the floor.

  She heard the door open and footsteps coming toward her. She kept her head down, resting on her knees. A warm hand pressed down on her back.

  “What are you doing here on the floor?”

  Hope wanted to say, Just waiting for you, but she could not talk. She could barely breathe.

  Conall sat down beside her and wrapped his arms around her. “Shh,” he said. “It’s alright. You can take as much time as you need. I am not going to rush you.”

  They sat there together for a long while. Eventually, her heart calmed, and she could breathe again. When she worked up the courage, she uncovered her face and looked at Conall. He looked truly worried about her.

  “Are you alright, love?” He pressed a kiss on her head.

  She nodded. “I don’t know what came over me. I mean, I have always accepted that one day if I married, I would…you know. But the reality of it terrifies me.”

  “That is because you are missing the parts that lead up to it.”

  “And what is that?”

  “It starts with a kiss.” He leaned down, bringing his lips to hers.

  Hope closed her eyes and sank into the bliss of kissing Conall. Her fear and trepidation melted away. Reaching toward him, she wrapped her arms around his neck. He made love to her with his mouth as a warmth lit in her belly. Minutes later, she was being lifted from off the floor and into his arms. She only gave her nudity a passing thought as she lost herself in his embrace.

  From there, he led her willingly into a blissful journey. There was no room for fear or embarrassment—only gentle touches, waves of pleasure, and soft words letting her know how perfect she was.

  Hours later, she awoke in Conall’s arms. The morning light filtered in through the curtains. Hope had never felt so warm, safe, and completely whole.

  Chapter 25

  Life with Conall wasn’t at all what she’d pictured. He was gone more than he was home. The Order was a demanding dictator that required him to drop whatever she and Conall had planned to go save the world. Well, it wasn’t truly saving the world; usually it was saving some pour souls from a raving supernatural lunatic. And Hope knew he was needed. But still, she missed having Conall with her all the time.

  When she suggested that she might want to join The Order so she could accompany him, Conall nearly went mad. Especially when Vladimir seemed to consider it. Conall would not even discuss it with her. He simply said it was too dangerous.

  Washing her plate and silverware in the kitchen basin, she watched the children playing outside. She was so glad they’d been able to rent the cottage in town. Now that it was harvest season, school was not in session, and she had altogether too much time on her hands.

  A light rap on the door had her smiling. It had to be Rebekah, it was always Rebekah.

  The wail of a fussing child confirmed it. Hope opened the door.

  Rebekah, smiled at her as she walked in with little Constance on her hip. “Oh shush, that was not your father. He just looked like him.”

  Hope chuckled. “How much of that does a one-year-old understand?”

  “You would be surprised. She’s brilliant. Just like her papa. Oh, by the way. Let me show you what he bought her now. I tell you. She’s going to be spoiled so rotten she’ll be impossible to live with.”

  “With you as her mother? I would say her chances of being spoiled are next to nothing.”

  “I don’t think it’ll be enough. Victor is constantly buying things for her. If she looks at a toy in the shop for more than two seconds, he’s convinced she cannot live without it.”

  Rebekah put her bag on the table and pulled out a pink ballroom dress. It was stunning, complete with lace and silk ribbons to tie around the waist.

  “I have never seen a dress so fine.”

  “And he got me one to match,” Rebekah said. “I told him I am happy to make her anything she needs, but he cannot seem to help himself.”

  Hope shook her head as she examined the fine dress. “Whoever sewed this was brilliant. Even I could not have done better.”

  “You are an amazing seamstress. Have you thought about starting on some baby clothing? You and Conall have been married for over a year now. You are sure to get pregnant before long.”

  Hope shook her head. “I dare not. Conall and I . . . well, being two different species, I don’t even know if we can have children.”

  “Two different species? What nonsense is that?”

  “It’s not nonsense, it’s science. Animals of different species do not cross breed. And they do not have offspring.”

  “The only difference between Conall and us are his ears.”

  “And the fact he can do magic,” Hope said, “and shimmers in the dark. Oh, and lives forever. I had hopes in the beginning. But despite the fact we come together every night he’s home, I am still not carrying his child.” Hope’s face burned. “I am sorry, that information was too personal, wasn’t it?”

  Rebekah shook her head. “Not at all. Victor and I did not conceive until a year after we married.”

  “Really?” Hope’s heart lightened.

  “Yes,” Rebekah said. “Really. And I do think you should sew a few things. You know, start out with necessities.”

  “I will think about it,” Hope conceded.

  The sound of the backdoor opening lightened Hope’s spirits.

  “I am home, my sex go
ddess,” Conall’s voice boomed.

  Rebekah chuckled. “Sex goddess?”

  “Oh, shush. And don’t you dare tell Victor what my husband calls me in private.”

  “I give no promises,” she chuckled. “I think I need to leave the sex goddess alone with her husband.” She was still laughing when she left out the front door.

  Conall burst into the room and swept her up in his arms. His lips immediately found hers and he continued his way into the bedroom. Every time he came home from an assignment, he greeted her in the same way. And they would make love no matter the time of day. That was, unless she was teaching school, then he would ambush her as she came through the front door. It almost made it worth him leaving.

  Almost.

  An hour later, she was running her finger over the planes of his chest. “Do you ever miss Faery?”

  Conall’s eyes saddened. “There are things I miss about it. The lush green forests, the colorful flowers, fruit on nearly every tree. But the thing I miss the most is no longer there.”

  “And what is that?”

  “I miss my mother,” he said, surprising her. He rarely spoke of his family.

  “What was her name?”

  “Talila.”

  “What was she like?”

  “She was kind and so light-hearted. Everywhere she went, she had a smile on her face and a spring in her step. She spoiled my brother and I rotten—much to the dismay of my father. But he could never get too upset with her.”

  “What happened to her?”

  Conall’s countenance darkened. “She died along with my father.”

  His tone left no doubt in her mind that he did not want to discuss it. She did not press him; instead, she changed the subject. “So, what did Vladimir have you doing this past week?”

  Months ago, he would have avoided answering her, but after her suggestion she accompany him on his assignments, he decided to open up to exactly what he did. She guessed he thought her worry was preferable to her rushing into a dangerous situation herself. He had confided in her that he feared if she joined The Order, she’d be dead within a year.

  “He had me tracking a nasty creature called a wendigo. It ripped apart an entire settlement before I could get to him. He was annoyingly adept at camouflage.”