Love in a Mist

by Patricia Grasso

  “Who is your father?” Richard asked.

  “An Englishman.”

  His lips quirked. “I gleaned as much. I only ask because I might know him.”

  Keely forced herself to smile as winsomely as she could. “Many Englishmen crowd London’s lanes.”

  Though he considered himself an expert at prying information out of people, Richard realized that she hadn’t actually answered his question. He tried again, asking, “Will you be staying long at the Rooster?”

  Keely shook her head. “In the morning I will present myself to my father.”

  “Lady Keely, your uncommon beauty has given me great pleasure,” Richard said, bowing over her hand. “I’m quite certain we shall meet again.” Without another word, the earl quit the tavern.

  Keely stared at his retreating back. For her cousins’ sake, she hoped they’d never meet again. And yet—

  Keely sighed. Dreaming about things that could never be was useless.

  “He’s gone,” Odo said.

  “We’re safe,” Hew added. “You can stop shaking now.”

  Keely managed a faint smile. Though she hadn’t eaten since the previous evening, the sight of the stew set before her made her stomach churn. “I’m going upstairs,” she said. “Enjoy your supper.”

  Clutching her satchel, Keely made her way through the crowded tavern. On shaking legs, she climbed the stairs to the second floor and walked the length of the corridor, then entered her chamber.

  Without bothering to light a candle, Keely crossed the dark chamber to the cot and pulled her ceremonial white robe out of the satchel. She wrapped the hooded robe around herself as if it could offer her protection.

  Keely looked at the cot and sighed. Between the earl’s unnerving appearance and the frightening prospect of confronting her father, Keely knew that sleep would elude her that night.

  She lay down on the cot anyway, and her thoughts traveled through space and time to Wales. Memories of her childhood and her wonderful mother crowded into that tiny chamber. Keely recalled that, no matter the season of the year, Megan and she would wander the woodland surrounding the Lloyd estate and study the special divinity of nature. Each afternoon they would sit together beneath the mighty oaks where her mother passed the Golden Thread of Knowledge to her.

  Tears welled up in her eyes and spilled down her cheeks. Surrendering to her sorrow, she wept until exhaustion put her to sleep.

  Keely awakened during those hushed moments before dawn. Her chamber held the crisp bite of late September’s early morning chill. Wrapping herself in her white ceremonial robe, Keely wandered to the room’s tiny window. The eastern horizon blazed with orange light as dawn approached.

  Her gaze dropped from the sky’s oceanic horizon to the narrow lanes below. Civilization? How could these English even breathe? London’s crowded conditions were suffocating her. Her thoughts drifted to the man she would meet that day. What kind of man had sired her? Could she really find happiness as an English lord’s daughter? It seemed a preposterous notion, yet her mother had seen it.

  Bright streaks of orange light crept higher over the horizon. The rising sun, different each day of the year, seemed especially inspiring on this fateful morn. Was that a good omen? Keely drew the hood of her robe up and covered her head. If only she could be outside to feel the rising sun.

  “Myrddin, greatest of Druids, guide my words,” Keely began her greeting of the dawn. Trying to get closer to the rising sun, she pressed the palm of her hand to the window pane. “Father Sun kisses Mother Earth . . . Father Sun kisses Mother Earth.”

  After completing this morning ritual, Keely sat down on the edge of the bed and tried to concentrate on the impending meeting with her father. Unfortunately, a certain copper-haired earl paraded across her mind’s eye instead, and that made her think of the danger threatening her cousins. The Earl of Basildon had remarked that Odo and Hew looked familiar. It would be only a matter of time before he realized that her cousins were the culprits who’d robbed him. Keely pondered her dilemma. According to her mother’s teachings, she could cast the magic circle and beg a favor. A single favor—anything more insulted the Goddess’s generosity.

  Keely had planned on asking for her father’s acknowledgment, but now her cousins faced the earl’s retribution. Her choice was no choice at all.

  Fetching her satchel, Keely withdrew a black cloth bag and emptied the holy stones it contained into her hand. From these she chose nine: one white agate for spiritual guidance, two dark carnelians for courage and protection, two rose quartzes for healing, two black obsidians for positive power, and two purple beryls for breaking bad luck. Then she pulled her tiny golden sickle from the satchel.

  Keely walked to the center of the room and made a makeshift circle with the stones, keeping only the white agate and the golden sickle in her hands. Entering the circle from the west, she closed it with the agate. “All disturbing thoughts remain outside.”

  Walking clockwise around the inside of the circle, Keely pointed the golden sickle toward its invisible periphery and fused it shut. She walked to the center of the circle, faced the east, and whispered: “Stones of power, love, and lore, aid my spell, I do implore. Spirit of my journey, spirit of my ancestors, spirit of my tribe aid my cause. Keep Odo and Hew safe from harm. Let Richard Devereux drink without injury from the River of Forgetfulness. I give thanks to these holy stones, my venerable spirits, and this sickle of gold.”

  Keely walked to the circle’s western periphery and picked the agate up, breaking the enchantment. She gathered the rest of her stones, put them back into the cloth bag, and sat on the edge of the bed to meditate on her father and await the appointed time.

  At noon, Keely and her cousins dismounted in the front courtyard of Talbot House, London’s most magnificent mansion. Keely looked up at the sun riding high in a cloudless blue sky. She knew that forever afterward, the midday sun would remind her of the day she met her father.

  “Maybe we should have left our belongings at the tavern,” Odo said, remembering what had transpired at Ludlow Castle.

  Keely shook her head. “If Robert Talbot refuses to acknowledge me, we will return to Wales.”

  “I hope that earl we robbed doesn’t live nearby,” Hew said.

  “Harbor no fears on that account,” Keely told them. “I’ve invoked the Goddess’s power for your protection.”

  “Too bad you didn’t ask her to make us invisible,” Hew muttered.

  “No dallying,” Odo said. “Time to meet your father, little girl.”

  Keely nodded, as ready as she’d ever be. She and her cousins entered the duke’s mansion. Surprisingly, no one stopped or questioned them. Inside the main foyer, servants hurried past them while a couple of men-at-arms stood near the wall on their left and talked together.

  When they tried to enter the great hall, a servant blocked their path. “Who goes here? What is your business?”

  “We want the duke,” Odo said.

  “Is there a problem, Meade?” a man’s voice called from inside the hall.

  Meade glanced over his shoulder. “No, Your Grace.” Turning back to the intruders, he said, “The duke has guests and cannot be disturbed. Get out.”

  Keely’s heart sank, and her bottom lip quivered in her struggle to control her aching emotion. She was being turned away. Again.

  “We’ve traveled many miles to see his high-and-mighty,” Odo growled at the man.

  “We aren’t leaving,” Hew added.

  “Take your doxy and leave,” Meade ordered, pointing a finger toward the door.”

  Odo lifted the hapless servant by his neck and flung him into the hall, where he crashed on the floor.

  A woman screamed.

  A man cursed.

  A third voice boomed, “What is the meaning of this?”

  With Odo and Hew marching in front of her and blocking her view, Keely walked into the great hall. The scene wasn’t exactly as she’d envisioned, but she’d made it insi
de.

  “Are you the Duke of Ludlow?” Odo demanded.

  “Yes.”

  At that, the Welsh giants stepped aside, and Keely found herself standing only inches before a powerfully built, middle-aged nobleman. His startling violet eyes and thick ebony hair matched hers.

  “Are you Robert Talbot?” Keely asked.

  The nobleman paled, and his eyes clouded as though he were caught in the midst of remembered pain. “Megan? Is it you?”

  “My name is Keely.” Why did he seem so tortured? He had, after all, deserted her mother.

  Duke Robert shook his head as if to clear it. His imagination was playing a cruel prank on him. Megan had been dead these past eighteen years.

  “Where did you get that?” the duke asked, dropping his gaze to the dragon pendant, glittering against the crisp whiteness of her linen blouse.

  “My mother gave it to me,” Keely said, her hand shielding the pendant.

  “And where did she get it?”

  “My sire gifted her with it,” Keely told him, her violet gaze locking on his. “Eighteen years ago.”

  “What is her name?” the duke asked, looking as if he’d seen a ghost.

  “Megan Glendower.”

  “Does your mother still live?” he asked, unable to mask the eager, hopeful tone in his voice.

  Keely shook her head. “She’s been dead these past two months.”

  Duke Robert closed his eyes against the rush of tears welling up in them, and an anguished moan escaped his lips. He took several deep breaths, cleared his throat, and gave her a wobbly smile. From beneath his shirt, Duke Robert pulled his own pendant. Diamonds, emeralds, sapphires, rubies, and gold formed the dragon’s lower body and tail.

  “This is your pendant’s mate,” he said, his violet-eyed gaze searching hers for any sign of the love that already swelled in his heart for her.

  Keely flicked a glance at the pendant and feigned indifference. “Yes, I see.”

  “Child, I am your father,” Duke Robert announced.

  “Her father?” sounded another voice.

  “Damn,” Odo muttered.

  “Double damn,” Hew echoed his brother’s sentiment.

  Keely turned toward the owner of that voice and froze. There stood the earl whom her cousins had robbed.

  Ignoring the earl‘s outburst, Duke Robert looked around at the crowd of curious spectators lingering about and shouted, “Get out of my hall.”

  The Talbot retainers and men-at-arms tripped over each other in a mad scramble to obey their lord. Almost instantly, the hall emptied.

  “After eighteen years,” Duke Robert said to Keely, “what have you to say to your father?”

  “I have no father,” she said, her voice tinged with bitterness, her gaze never wavering from his. “You sired me, nothing more. If Megan hadn’t made me swear to present myself to you, I would be far away from here now.”

  Her insolence brought an instant reaction from the duke, but not the one she would have expected. Something flickered in his intense gaze, and then his chiseled lips split into a broad grin.

  “Chessy, did you hear that?” Duke Robert called to the voluptuous woman standing beside the earl. “She’s got my proud spirit, don’t she?”

  “I can see that she does, Tally,” the woman agreed.

  The pride in the duke’s voice touched Keely’s heart, and for the first time since her mother’s death, she felt hope and optimism stir within her. “I hope your man is uninjured,” Keely said. “Odo and Hew are fiercely protective of me.”

  Duke Robert glanced at his majordomo who, at that very moment, was limping out of the hall. “I believe Meade will survive.” He turned his attention on the giants. “For delivering my daughter to me, I am forever indebted to you.”

  “Oh, Tally, how utterly heartwarming,” gushed the woman.

  “Come, child.” Duke Robert held his hand out. “Meet my friends.”

  Keely looked at the outstretched hand for a long moment. Then, she smiled at the duke and placed her hand in his.

  “I present Lady Dawn DeFey, the Countess of Cheshire,” Duke Robert said.

  Though she appeared to be in her early thirties, youthful beauty still clung to the countess. Auburn-haired and brown-eyed, Lady Dawn was voluptuous of figure. When she smiled as she did now, two adorable dimples decorated her cheeks and made her look even younger. She wore a red and gold brocaded gown, more suitable for a court gala than an afternoon in front of the hearth. Diamonds and gold draped her neck, earlobes, and fingers.

  “I am pleased to make your acquaintance, my lady,” Keely said, curtsying. “You were aptly named for the day’s most beautiful moments.”

  “Tally, the dear child is as sweet as an angel,” Lady Dawn complimented her. “So much pleasanter than that bitch you sired. Take my advice, Devereux. Look to this daughter instead of the other.”

  “Morgana cannot help the way she is,” the duke said in defense of his absent daughter. “She takes after my late wife’s family. You’ll see, my dear. She’ll come around.”

  Duke Robert turned Keely to his other guest. “I present my neighbor, Richard Devereux, the Earl of Basildon.”

  “The kindest of fates have brought us together,” the earl said with an easy smile, stepping forward to kiss her hand. “I knew we would meet again, my beauty.”

  Keely’s hand trembled in his. Her head spun dizzily, and her stomach churned in response to the topsy-turvy spinning.

  “I’m going to be sick,” Keely cried as the world inside the hall became unfocused, and she found refuge in a faint.

  “She’s swooning.” Richard caught her before she hit the floor and lifted her into his arms.

  “This way, Devereux,” the duke ordered. “Carry her upstairs.”

  Richard followed Duke Robert out of the hall, past the surprised retainers, eavesdropping in the foyer, and up the stairs to one of the bedchambers. Behind them marched Lady Dawn, Odo, and Hew. At the countess’s order, the two Welsh giants waited in the corridor.

  * * *

  Keely regained consciousness slowly. When her eyes fluttered open, she found the earl’s emerald gaze fixed on her and worry etched across his features. Keely looked at Duke Robert’s expression of concern and tried to rise.

  “Stay down and rest a moment,” Richard said, his hands gently pressing her back onto the bed.

  Keely did as she was told.

  “Do you have any pain?” Lady Dawn asked, sitting on the edge of the bed.

  Keely shook her head, but the movement made her stomach churn. She covered her mouth with her hand.

  “Was it something you ate?” Richard asked.

  “No, your presence at the tavern last night ruined my supper.”

  His emerald gaze narrowed on her. “Breakfast, then?”

  “I had none.”

  “Child, when did you eat last?” Duke Robert asked.

  “’Twas supper, the day before yesterday.”

  “Silly chit,” Lady Dawn said, relieved the malady was so easily cured.

  Keely watched the countess cross the chamber, open the door, and call for Meade. Within minutes, the servant appeared, listened to her softly spoken instructions, and then left to do her bidding.

  “You’ll feel better shortly, my dear,” Duke Robert said. “Lady Dawn has ordered a light lunch for you. Afterward, you’ll sleep. You’re not to rise from that bed until tomorrow.”

  Keely realized they were being kind, but she felt so conspicuous lying on the bed while the earl’s intense gaze devoured her. In truth, he appeared hungrier than she.

  “I’ll see you out,” Duke Robert said, drawing the earl’s attention.

  Before leaving, Richard smiled at Keely. “I’m certain you’ll be feeling better soon.”

  “What about my cousins?” Keely called as the two men reached the door. “Odo and Hew need me.”

  “Your cousins will enjoy my hospitality for as long as they wish,” Duke Robert assured her.


  Her gaze slid from her father to the earl, whose expression had become unreadable. She nodded once and lay back against the pillows.

  “Keely is well. Hunger made her faint,” Duke Robert informed Odo and Hew, who still waited in the corridor. “Return to the hall, and Meade will provide you with a meal and a place to perch.”

  “Thank you, Your Grace,” Odo said, his gaze fixed on the earl.

  “Aye, ’tis kind of you,” Hew added. “I mean, considering you’re English and all.”

  Duke Robert struggled against a smile as the two Welshmen hurried away. Turning to Richard, he said, “You will excuse me, Devereux? I want to sit with my daughter while she eats.”

  Richard glanced at the closed bedchamber door. “May I have your permission to call upon Lady Keely?”

  Duke Robert slapped his shoulder in camaraderie. “I had the same reaction the first time I set my eyes on her mother,” he said. “However, I know of your reputation with the ladies. Are your intentions honorable?”

  “I never toy with unmarried innocents,” Richard said. “I must marry and sire an heir, and a blood bond between the Talbot and Devereux families appeals to me.”

  “I suppose you’ll soon be asking for my blessings on your impending nuptials to her,” Duke Robert said, only half joking.

  “’Tis a bit premature for that.” Richard cocked a copper brow at the older man. “Keely looked at my face and fainted, but I may be able to persuade the lady to change her opinion.”

  Duke Robert snaked out his hand and grabbed the earl’s arm. “I warn you, Devereux. If your intentions prove less than honorable, I shall be forced to kill you.”

  “I understand, Your Grace.” At that, Richard retraced his steps down the corridor and disappeared downstairs.

  Duke Robert paused before entering the bedchamber, and a grim expression appeared on his face. Running a hand through his hair, he leaned back against the wall.

  What the bloody hell am I to do now? Duke Robert wondered as remorse wove itself around his aching heart. Which of the three children I love do I destroy?