by LK Rigel
Also unlike Galen, Bausiney was real. And unlike Greg, he was good. Greg’s intellect and ambition had been so dazzling that Lilith had never thought about his self-absorption and unkindness. Bausiney was a future earl, a guy with every advantage. He could be anywhere. Having fun. He was here, doing what he could to make life better for the people of a little village in an obscure corner of the world.
On second thought, he looked like he was having fun.
“It’s a pity Lord Dumnos won’t leave the End,” Marion said. “He’d be proud of Cade today.” She was dressed in full Handover splendor in a calf-length wool skirt and way-too-large sweatshirt with a picture of the castle ruins on the front with Tintagos Castle written above it in glitter. She wore a huge pink plastic pin that said: You may be the one! In her lap she held a vacuum jar she was taking to Bausiney’s End.
“Lord Dumnos’s morning gruel.” She said. “He’ll eat nothing else when he’s in a mood.”
Hopefully by gruel she meant oatmeal.
“The Handover has made him more hateful than usual.” Bausiney opened the door. He kissed Marion on the cheek before settling in again between the French girls. “You’re very good to him, Moo.”
“Turnabout is fair play.” Marion’s bubbly personality went flat. “He was very good to me once. Gave me the Tragic Fall, you know.” She and Bausiney shared a sentimental smile. Lilith and the sisters waited for details, but none were forthcoming.
They were going in the wrong direction, away from the castle ruins, but halfway up one hill Lilith saw that the road made a circle, an outer ring around the village. If they continued this way, they’d curve around and end up at the castle, and beyond the castle was Igdrasil. Farther along, the drive passed a lone cottage on the border of a small forest.
It was colder out on the open road, but the hat and gloves Marion had given Lilith yesterday made her feel cozy. In her sweater, khakis, and good walking boots, she was perfectly comfortable, but she wouldn’t mind if Bausiney was inclined to wrap his scarf around her again.
Drat! It was a mistake to think like that. Yesterday’s strange attraction took hold before she could stop it and heat pulsed through her. She longed to touch him. How would he feel inside? Her breaths shortened to short gulps of cold mist. Fergawdsake, she was panting. It didn’t help when she noticed him looking at her mouth.
“Oh, this is me.” Marion perked up.
Bausiney’s lips twitched as if he was fully aware of Lilith’s torment. “Can we stop?” he called up to the driver. The carriage turned onto the end of a drive that disappeared into thick trees. “Let us take you on to the house, Moo.”
“No, no. We’ll have none of that.” Marion handed the jar to Lilith while she got out of the carriage. “Ian usually brings me up the hill in the morning, but he’s gone for supplies. Tonight we’ll have a nice Wellington.”
“That sounds lovely.” Lilith handed her the jar of gruel.
“And tomorrow, Ian’s specialty—liver and onions!”
The dismay on the French girls’ faces was priceless. Lilith hoped she had better control.
“You young people should get to your fun. See the sights.”
Cammy said, “Are you sure we can’t give you a lift?”
Bausiney gave Cammy a brilliant smile for her thoughtfulness. Of course that was exactly what the little vixen had intended. The sting of jealousy Lilith felt was surprising—so was her triumph when Bausiney shifted over to take Marion’s place beside her.
But then wanting to touch him only got worse.
“That’s sweet, but no, dear.” Marion backed away. “The mist has lifted, and the walk will do me good.” Leaving them, she wiggling her fingers over her shoulder. Lilith thought of someone tossing salt.
She was struck by a feeling of overwhelming sorrow and of deja vu. Where had she seen that gesture before? She twisted the ring under her glove for comfort. I must be developing obsessive-compulsive disorder.
At the castle another twenty or so tourists waited to join the tour. Bausiney gave them all a cheerful welcome. He was hatless today, and with the breeze his hair flew all over the place. Cammy’s face fell when Bausiney told the crowd to be ready to go in five minutes.
“Oh, Cammy,” Bella said. “Were you thinking to get him alone today?”
Cammy actually stuck her tongue out. “At least I haven’t given up on finding a man.”
Tintagos Castle was in ruins—not that Lilith expected tapestries and ceilings or finished walls. But she had expected to recognize the layout. Instead, the great piles of rocks were like a maze. Many walls still stood. There were a few stone stairways the tour was allowed to take and several modern wood stairs and causeways. Window-like holes in the walls provided the same prospects seen by others in ages long past.
One such window perfectly framed the oak tree—and the woman in the cloak. She was standing beside Igdrasil, watching the castle. Watching Lilith.
When are you coming? Elyse’s voice. There isn’t much time.
“Do you see your ghost then?” Bausiney stopped behind her. With his words, Elyse disappeared.
“Is that what she is?” Lilith shuddered. What would he say if she told him the ghost had spoken to her? “At first I thought she might be your wyrding woman, but that can’t be. The woman I saw, my ghost, was young.”
“I always think I’m seeing ghosts around here,” Bausiney said. “My romantic sensibilities get the best of me.”
She felt comfortable with Bausiney. There was none of the underlying tension always present with Greg, the feeling of not being good enough. As a future peer of the realm, Bausiney had actual reason to take that view, but there was nothing like that from him. She felt accepted and enjoyed on equal terms. And at the moment it was more than that, almost painful being so close to him. It would be the most natural thing in the world to lean back and kiss him, as if it were all settled and he belonged to her—hers to hold, to joke with, to make plans with.
The steps dipped unexpectedly. As she lost balance, Bausiney grabbed her from behind to steady her. “Are you all right?” His hands stayed on her hips, but he moved down a few steps until their eyes were level. “Seriously, Ms. Evergreen—Lilith. Are you ill?”
“Oh, Lilith!” Cammy pushed through the people behind them until she was on the step with Bausiney. “You look terrible. What can we do for you?”
You can shut your mouth and step away from the tour guide.
“It’s nothing.” Lilith said. “I took a bad step. Where’s your sister?” Far better Bella’s wounded sarcasm than Cammy’s saccharine faux regard.
“Oh, I’m still here.” Bella glared at Cammy from the top of the steps, about ten tourists back.
“One more wing to explore then we’ll eat.” Bausiney let go of Lilith. “You’re probably hypoglycemic. Or is it hyperglycemic? You’re hungry, that’s it!” He slipped away from her, disengaged, hers no longer. Once again the tour guide extraordinaire.
She still couldn’t decide. Was he strangely handsome or strangely ugly? At all events, strange was the right modifier. Occasionally he threw his hands in the air—great grabby things, fingers spread wide—to emphasize a marvelous fact about the castle or village history. While Lilith and the others clung to the safety rail on the stone stairs, Bausiney bounded past them four steps at a time, his wool scarf flopping against his back.
“And we’re stopping!”
The ruins were damp with mist and treacherous, the ancient stone steps tiny and close together and crumbling. Lilith still had trouble with her footing. Bausiney spun on the landing below to face them. For a moment, she saw the tapestry on the wall above him and heard a male baritone and a lute.
Great. The dreams now wanted her waking life.
“Tintagos Castle is famous for the many love affairs conducted within its walls.” Bausiney launched into his tour spiel. “Tristos and Isolde, for example.”
“That ended badly,” Bella said.
“They all did,
” Bausiney said. “Tristos and Isolde died for their illicit love. They were buried beside each other and thereafter metamorphosed into a hazel and a honeysuckle. They’re here on the grounds, clinging together to this day. Quite romantic.”
“Drat!” Lilith slipped on a mossy stone this time and pitched forward toward the landing.
“Have a care!” Bausiney caught her and scooped her up in his arms. “You might break your lovely neck!” Galen’s exact words from her dream.
Bella and Cammy groaned behind her and stared daggers.
“I really am fine. I don’t know what happened.”
Bausiney held her to him and continued down the steps. He murmured, “Have dinner with me tomorrow night.”
“What?”
“I’ve been trying to get you away from those two all morning. Answer quick—say yes. I promise you: no liver and onions.”
“Yes.”
He set her on her feet. As Bella and Cammy surrounded her with solicitations for her well-being, his lips twitched. She was certain he was laughing inside.
After a few turns they came to what might long ago have been a banquet hall. Now it was a spacious oblong area open to the sky and covered with grass. Waiters were putting out picnic baskets on blankets spread out on the green.
“A benefit of Bausiney Tours, ladies,” Bausiney said. “I have an in with the castle management.” He beckoned a waiter to him. “Give Ms. Evergreen a glass of champagne posthaste.” He dropped his voice and said to Lilith alone, in that demon lover tone, “She’s in need of sustenance.” He bent his elbow and offered his arm.
She reacted with tingling warmth—but this time it was authentic. Her warmth. Her tingle. Nothing mysterious about it. He guided her to a small blanket just the right size for two. The French girls did not take the hint. They plopped down and pretended not to notice that they were left sitting half on damp grass.
“Ooh.” Cammy opened the basket. “Scones and clotted cream.”
“And strawberry jam?” Bella said.
“And classic strawberry jam.” Bausiney smiled, unperturbed.
As they ate, he told the story of Utros and Igraine, how Utros convinced Merlin to use magic to slip him inside the castle to get to Igraine, ignoring the fact she was married to another man.
“So romantic.” Cammy really did bat her eyelashes at Bausiney.
“I don’t think it’s romantic at all.” His eyes flashed with exaggerated umbrage. “Infamous union! The resultant whelp grew up to become King Artros. A very bad beginning which explains his bad end.”
“So you believe children should pay for the sins of their parents.” Bella said.
“Pay?” Bausiney dropped the dramatics and grew thoughtful. “No. But we must try to atone for them.”
“How dreary,” Cammy said.
“True.” Bausiney gave her a sad smile. “Quite dreary.”
Lilith thought of the picture of his mother. What could Bausiney feel the need to atone for? Or was he thinking of his father?
“Which Tintagos love affair do you find more romantic?” Lilith asked. She couldn’t talk about the sins of parents. Practically speaking, she had only one, a mere cipher who had struggled to provide for them and then died just as Lilith was able to care for herself.
Tragic but uninteresting.
“I go with Tristos and Isolde,” Bausiney said, “despite their ending as vegetation. Utros, in my opinion, was no better than a rapist. He used the magics to don the guise of Igraine’s rightful lover—her husband.”
“Quite so.” Bella glanced sideways at Cammy.
Bausiney sliced a scone and put one of the halves on a tiny plate, thin porcelain painted with morning glories. His long fingers were oddly masculine in the delicate work. “I wonder how it was for old Utros.” He dipped a silver berry spoon with a gold wash into a fresh jar of strawberry jam. “To finally bed the woman of his dreams.”
The way Bausiney spread the jam over the scone made Lilith want to be that scone.
“Only to hear her call out another man’s name at the crucial moment.” He handed the plate to Lilith. As she took a bite, he winked and said, “Poor bastard.”
“There’s another romance at Tintagos Castle.” Bella broke the spell of the scone. “The one the inn is named for.”
“Indeed, yes,” Bausiney said. “The lovers of the tragic fall. And a sadder love story was never told, but this isn’t the proper setting. You’ll hear all over a pot of Earl Grey at Glimmer Cottage tea shop.”
When they returned to the Tragic Fall, Bausiney handed them each out of the carriage and air-kissed everyone’s cheeks. He held Lilith back. “I’ll pick you up at nine tomorrow night. Casual dress. Something that can withstand a bit of dust.”
“Bausiney, you intrigue me.”
“It’s all part of the service, Evergreen.”
When the carriage driver said walk on to the horses, Lilith realized it would be more than twenty-four hours before she saw Bausiney again. It felt awful. How had she let this happen? He’d slipped in way too close to her heart and was in danger of becoming essential to her happiness. She was glad for the time apart. She didn’t want Bausiney or anybody crawling inside and taking over her life. Not again—not ever.
She wasn’t going to spend tomorrow with the French girls either. They were inside with Marion at the front desk. When they saw her, their conversation broke off abruptly.
“You’ll be dining with us tonight, dear?” Marion said.
“Looking forward to it,” Lilith said. “I’ve never had beef Wellington.”
It was a good thing Bella and Cammy couldn’t really shoot daggers from their eyes, but Marion seemed upset too. That was unexpected. Lilith didn’t give a flying banana peel for the sisters’ opinions, but it would hurt if Marion thought she wasn’t good enough for Bausiney.
“So,” Bella said. “Dinner with his lordship tomorrow?”
“All part of the service,” Cammy parroted, smirking. They walked away to the lift.
“Stuff them,” Marion said as soon as the lift closed. “If Cade wants to take you to dinner, who are they to judge?”
“You don’t mind then?” But no matter what Marion thought, Lilith had no business flirting with Cade Bausiney. Lord Tintagos, great gods.
“Of course not, dear.” Marion patted her arm. “Only…”
Lilith knew exactly what she was thinking. He deserved someone like—she hated the thought—but someone rich and classy, beautiful and well-born. Someone like Jenna Sarumen.
“Only I’d hate for you to break his heart,” Marion said. “He’s more sensitive than he lets on.”
“That’s your worry?” Lilith said. She threw her arms around Marion in a big hug.
“You won’t be with us long, you know.”
“Great gods.” Lilith let Marion go. “Countess Dumnos. I didn’t notice it before.”
In the photograph on the wall behind Marion, Bausiney’s mother stared not into the camera but past it, her eyes wide and soft, her lips slightly parted, unreservedly available to the one behind the lens. “She’s in love.”
“No,” Marion said. “A stranger took that picture. A street vendor, she told me. But she does look…entranced.”
“Not a complete stranger, I don’t think.” But whoever took that picture, it wasn’t Lord Dumnos. “She looks positively enchanted.”
8
Hobnobbing
Since Cade was a kid, he could always tell when Moo wasn’t happy. This last week she’d been all over the map, giddy and nervous. Even afraid, which was disturbing; nothing scared Moo. But up or down, she hadn’t been happy since the Handover was announced. Maybe others couldn’t tell, but her natural cheerfulness had been an act. He and Ian were both worried about her.
This morning she wasn’t afraid. She was upset. She’d knocked about, making too much noise, her signal that she had something to say and Cade had bloody well better hear it. He’d come down to the kitchen and sat at the worktable be
nch with his back to the old open bread oven and waited for her to say what was wrong.
She’d made a fire in the oven and put the kettle on—as ever, making things cozy. She rinsed out the gruel jug at the sink, keeping her back to him and her shoulders rigid. The biggest tell was her silence. Moo always had plenty to say when she came up the hill with Dad’s breakfast, and she hadn’t said any of it.
The light finally dawned: his aunt was upset with him.
“Ian found the liver all right then?” That would get her going.
She sniffed but didn’t take the bait. Silently she dried the jug and dropped it into her bag. At last, she relented.
“I just don’t know why you have to date one of my guests.”
“That’s what this is about?” He relaxed. “You’ve never cared about that before. And it’s not a date.” That wasn’t exactly true. With everything he had in mind for tonight, it was a date.
“She’ll be gone after the ceremony tomorrow.” The kettle started to whistle, and Moo automatically went about making tea. He preferred coffee but had never said. It would break her heart.
“She didn’t come to Dumnos for that business. Maybe she won’t be gone.”
“And maybe she’s the one. Did you think of that? Don’t give your heart to someone who can never share hers.”
“You don’t buy into that bollocks.”
“Maybe I don’t think it is bollocks.” She set milk and sugar in front of him. He was on his own there. “Maybe I’ve learned a few things in the years I’ve been going out to Glimmer Cottage when no one else would.”
He shuddered. “There’s something horrible about that place.” Sometimes, especially when he was younger and especially when the moon was full, he’d had the strong sense of the wyrding woman up on her roof, thinking about him.
