Lord of the Beasts

by Susan Krinard

  “And mine,” Ivy said. “And mine for him.”

  Donal said nothing for many heartbeats. Tod knew he battled the fears he had nursed since childhood, fears Tod had fostered with grim deliberation. But it was too late to speak of that now; it was right that Tod should die and pay the price for his treachery.

  But he did not die. Donal laid his hands on Tod’s chest and flung back his head, silently drawing upon the very emotion he believed would rob him of his gifts. Tod felt the love pour into him like the blood of life, beating in his veins and rushing into heart and lungs and brain. It filled him to the brim and overflowed, stretching his flesh, expanding muscle and bone in waves of pain and ecstasy.

  Donal lifted his hands, his eyes wide with astonishment. “Good God,” he said. “The curse…”

  His heart in his throat, Tod gazed down the length of his body, down and down to the long legs and slender, elegant feet. He felt the strong, half-familiar bones of his face, and then he looked at the fine, graceful hands attached to lean and muscular arms.

  “You did it, Donal!” Ivy cried. “You healed him!” She leaned over Tod, grinning, joy and love shining in her beautiful eyes. Tod didn’t have to see his own face to know what she saw, what he had become. He was himself again.

  He sat up and met Donal’s gaze. “Thank you,” he said, his voice deep and sure. “Thank you, my friend.”

  Donal grasped his offered hand. “What should I call you?” he asked.

  He met Ivy’s gaze. “Aodhan is my name. But I will always be Tod to those I love.”

  Donal looked at Cordelia, as foolish and besotted as any young mortal with his first girl. “You were right, Cordelia,” he said. “The gift isn’t gone.” He laughed as Sir Reginald leaped into his lap and licked his face.

  ABRUPTLY CORDELIA ROSE, walking swiftly away before Donal could see the ridiculous, selfish sadness in her eyes. It was wrong to feel so, she knew it…wrong to think of herself when there was so much to be grateful for. Tod had transformed from a strange little man to a splendid young god; Ivy had her love, and Donal his beasts…what more could anyone rightfully ask?

  I have no right, she thought. There is still a great deal to be done. Inglesham must pay for his crimes, my father has just lost the love of his life, Ivy is coming home and we must think of an explanation for the sudden appearance of an entirely unknown and very handsome suitor in the neighborhood….

  “Cordelia.”

  Donal came up from behind, wrapping his arms about her, and she thought she would come undone.

  “You’re trembling,” he said, his breath caressing her temple. “What is it, Cordelia? What’s wrong?”

  “Why, nothing.” She half turned, smiling. “It is just that so much has happened, don’t you agree?”

  “Indeed.”

  “Theodora must be wondering what we are about, the poor dear, standing watch over that blackguard Inglesham. And Sir Geoffrey…” She glanced toward her father, who still sat with his head in his hands. “He sacrificed the dearest wish of his heart for our safety. Ivy is his daughter; that knowledge cannot fail to alter him. Perhaps there is a chance for a new beginning in our family. As soon as we are home, he and I must have a heart-to-heart talk. And then I must see the animals and apologize, even though they won’t really understand—”

  “Cordelia.”

  She caught her breath. His lips grazed her ear, her cheek. Tears started in her eyes.

  “I know you must go,” she said. “You never deceived me, even when we…it was always very clear. I shall be forever grateful for everything you have taught me…taught all of us. Of course Ivy will miss you, and Theodora, but perhaps when you have seen something of the world you will come back and—”

  “Cordelia!”

  “Yes, Donal?” she said meekly.

  He turned her about to face him, clucked his tongue, and sat her down on the nearest stone.

  “You didn’t believe me when I told you the stories about the Fane,” he said.

  She shook her head, unable to meet his eyes.

  “Then why did you believe when I said I had no desire to deal with primitive human emotions?”

  “I…I didn’t….”

  He folded his arms across his chest. “In Tir-na-Nog, you told me that you neither expected nor asked anything of me. Is that correct?”

  “Yes.”

  “And then you said you loved me.”

  She hid her face behind her hands. “Yes.”

  “Which was the truth?”

  She stiffened. “I was not lying.”

  “You love me, yet you want nothing of me.”

  “Nothing but your happiness.”

  “Very noble and selfless of you, a chuisle.”

  “I am not noble.”

  “Then there is something you would ask of me, after all.”

  She glared up at him. “No.”

  He sighed. “You have always been a stubborn wench.” He glanced toward the little wood at the edge of the stone circle. Cordelia noticed a rustling of leaves, a movement in the grass beneath the trees…and suddenly they came, animals of every size and sort: waddling badgers and prickly hedgehogs, darting shrews and bashful voles, russet foxes and chestnut stoats, tufted squirrels and leaping hares, sleek fallow deer and white-rumped roe. They advanced upon Cordelia like a mismatched army and came to a halt, gazing at her from eyes black and brown, large and small.

  Cordelia sat very still. “What do they want?” she whispered.

  “An explanation.”

  “I cannot speak to them.”

  “I will translate for you.” He cleared his throat. “They wish to know if Cordelia Hardcastle is capable of wanting anything for herself.”

  “What? I—”

  “Does she plan to spend the rest of her life in selfless sacrifice and dull propriety, or will she allow a little of that wild creature loose again?”

  Cordelia’s cheeks flamed. “I cannot go back.”

  “Then you must go forward.”

  “Naturally.”

  “And you will do so alone.”

  “I am perfectly capable of…” She saw the twinkle in Donal’s eye and stopped.

  “Always capable, my Cordelia.” He cocked his head. “My friends are still not satisfied.”

  “What more can I tell them?”

  “This time they have something to tell you.”

  She squirmed on her stone seat. “I am listening.”

  He gestured to the ranks of animals. They began to chatter all at once…grunts and snuffles and groans and yips, a chorus of music only another beast could fully appreciate. Cordelia swallowed a reluctant smile.

  “I did not quite understand,” she said.

  “With pleasure.” He shuffled his feet and stared at the ground. “They wished to tell you that Donal Fleming has lost his heart.”

  Cordelia blinked rapidly. “And they want me to help him reclaim it?”

  “Oh, there is no need for that. You already possess it.”

  She began to shake. “I…I don’t—”

  He dropped to one knee and met her eyes. “I love you, Cordelia Hardcastle. And I am perfectly willing to have my friends repeat it as many times as necessary to make you believe.”

  “That will not be necessary.” She slid off the stone and knelt before him. “I will never again dare to disbelieve the Lord of the Beasts.”

  And she kissed him then and there, savage as a tigress claiming her mate, until he begged for mercy.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  “SO IT WAS ALL a deception,” Cordelia said. “Tod was so afraid of losing you to a mortal woman’s love, as he had lost your father, that he convinced you that you would also forfeit your powers if such a love ever came to you.”

  “Yes, and I believed him.” Donal stretched his legs out on the cool grass beneath the ash and pulled Cordelia closer, gazing at the river with lazy eyes. Only a week had passed since the final confrontation and healing among the standing stones, and
yet everything had changed. Even his memories.

  “Tod was my closest companion all through my later childhood,” he said. “I had seen my father become more and more like an ordinary mortal after he was exiled from Tir-na-Nog—no longer able to make plants grow in an instant, or summon the animals from the forest.”

  “And that frightened you.”

  “I worshiped my father. But I had spent my early childhood alone, with only the animals for company. I couldn’t conceive of losing that gift. The older I grew, the more terrifying such a prospect became.”

  “Of course,” Cordelia said, stroking his hand. “Anyone would feel the same.”

  “It was easy to believe what Tod told me. I often had nightmares about my brief time in Tir-na-Nog with my father, but I never stopped to think that perhaps my father’s changing was the result of Titania’s curse, and not because he had learned how to love.”

  “Yet you stopped hearing the animals when you realized you loved me—first with Othello during the animals’ escape, and then at the standing stones.”

  He lifted her hand and kissed her palm. “There was another time as well,” he said, and told her about his affair with the Black Widow, how he had believed himself in love and temporarily lost his ability to communicate with the animals.

  “My poor darling,” Cordelia said. “No wonder you could not admit to loving anyone.”

  “I severed myself from the animals through the simple conviction of my own mind. I was so certain of suffering the loss that I created it.”

  Cordelia smiled wryly. “We are very good at punishing ourselves, are we not?”

  “It is a very human talent.”

  She turned to look into his face. “Why didn’t Tod tell you the truth when he was dying?”

  “I think by then he had become ‘human’ enough that he was prepared to accept the penalty of death for his betrayal.” He frowned, wrestling with the guilt that had plagued him since Tod’s transformation. “It was my fault that he was driven to Béfind. I neglected him shamefully after I arrived at Edgecott, and he feared I would leave England, and him, forever.”

  “How often we fall prey to our fears,” Cordelia said. “And how often our fears are mistaken.”

  “My fear would have permitted Tod to die,” Donal said gravely, “but you gave me the strength to heal him.”

  “The strength was always within you, my love.”

  “Perhaps. But I don’t think I saved Tod at all. I think it was the love in his own heart, his willingness to sacrifice his life and his deepest desires for all of us.”

  “As even my father, in the end, was willing to make such a sacrifice. As you have for me.”

  “In what way?

  “By agreeing to remain at Edgecott, even though your heart would go wandering in the wilderness.”

  “It is no sacrifice.”

  She pressed her finger to his lips. “I know better. But I have decided to take your advice and become quite selfish in my happiness.”

  He sat up. “Indeed? Tell me.”

  She leaned her head against his shoulder. “Perhaps you have noticed how much Sir Geoffrey has changed.”

  “It would be difficult not to. I would say that he has become a new man.”

  “He threw off the bitter shackles his unrequited love for Béfind had placed upon him. I consider it truly a miracle.”

  “He still has much to answer for.”

  “That may be. But have you seen the effort he makes to win Theodora’s good opinion? He is quite the gentleman. And he and Ivy are becoming fast friends.”

  “That is an odd pairing if ever I saw one.”

  “Yet they have something in common. Both have been deeply touched by the Fane.”

  “But Ivy will have Tod.”

  “Eventually…when she is old enough to know her own mind, and he has established himself as a respectable human suitor.”

  “My parents will see to that, as they’re arranging for our special license.” Donal grinned. “I think they’re quite relieved that a respectable woman has accepted me.”

  “Alas, they have not yet met me. They may change their minds.” She gazed into his eyes. “We shall have to arrange a meeting very soon, this coming week if possible. I fear we will not be available afterward.”

  “Not available?”

  “I have booked a passage on a ship leaving England in three weeks’ time, and we have a great many preparations to make.”

  “Leaving England?” He caught her by the shoulders. “Leaving for where?”

  “I thought Africa might be our first stop. If we can restore Heloise and Abelard to their homes in the wild, then perhaps there is hope for Othello and the other menagerie inmates.” She grinned. “You see, I have decided that I can serve and be selfish at the same time. With your gifts we can free the animals, Donal, you and I…and we will learn to be free again.”

  He stared at her. “But what of your work here…your responsibilities, the charities—”

  “Theodora has expressed great interest in my projects. Between her and Sir Geoffrey, I believe that Edgecott and its dependents will be in excellent hands.”

  He pulled her against his chest. “You’re sure, Cordelia?”

  Beside the river, Desdemona stretched her neck and gave a piercing whinny while Boreas bobbed his head in an emphatic nod.

  “I believe you have your answer,” Cordelia said. “And here, my friend, is another.”

  ISBN: 1-55254-625-X

  LORD OF THE BEASTS

  Copyright © 2006 by Susan Krinard

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario M3B 3K9, Canada.

  All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.

  This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

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