Lady X

by Claudy Conn

  “My darkness is no more than a bad temper,” X laughed. “And I still think, I can get through to him.”

  “Exerilla, he has the power to compel you with his magic. He won’t listen to you. He wants you with him, working beside him. His love for you won’t stop him from that goal. You aren’t strong enough yet to resist his power of compulsion, but afterwards…”

  “After Samhain, I know, I will come into my own.” Exerilla clammed up. No point in going around and around about this.

  “Go take a walk and calm down.”

  “Good idea,” Exerilla agreed.

  “And while you are walking I want you to think about the little vacation you will be going on. It will only be for a few months and then you can come back, safe in the knowledge that you can no longer be compelled by him.” Her mother smiled at her encouragingly.

  “If Dark Magic isn’t as strong as white, why can’t you over-ride any compulsion spell he zaps me with?” X asked reasonably.

  “I can’t prevent him from casting the compulsion spell. As your father, he can do this in your regard. Once he has done that, even I cannot break it. Only you can, and you won’t have that power until Samhain.”

  “Ahha,” X said sighing.

  “Everything in the past is ready for your arrival.” She took the pendant off her neck and put it around Exerilla. “When Samhain has passed, use this and return to me. It won’t work until then. Don’t forget, you can only use the simplest magic in the past, or he will track you. And never use your wand. Using it will lead him to you like a laser beam. Understood?”

  Exerilla closed her eyes, “This sucks and I haven’t agreed yet.”

  “Marrying that awful wicked man would suck even more.” Rachel hugged her fiercely and X suddenly got worried. “Mom, have you considered that papa will be angry…with you as well.”

  “Yes, he will, but I mean to play ignorant very well. I will tell him that you have a mind of your own and you decided you won’t be used this way. I’ve got this, don’t worry about me.”

  Exerilla decided to take a walk on the beach and think things over. She was surprised to find her father walking toward her. He looked well, dressed in casual beach attire and smiling warmly at her. She returned his smile. Perhaps she could talk to him now, alone and reasonably.

  The next thing she knew, her father was walking away. She stared at his retreating form and put a hand to her head. He vanished into a dark cloud. She couldn’t remember what they had talked about. Wait, what’s up with that? Okay, put it in order. What do you remember, Xie girl? she thought to herself.

  She remembered hugging him, and then he looked into her eyes.

  “Oh hell,” she said out loud. “He compelled me to do something, but what?”

  Suddenly she had an overwhelming desire to go home and bathe, fix her hair, and pick out a dress because she had a dinner date with Galen.

  She wouldn’t go out with that freak if he was the last man on earth!

  She couldn’t believe she had a dinner date with Galen.

  This was so not happening, yet, she couldn’t resist the urge to go and pick out something pretty for her date with him.

  What the hell was happening here? She couldn’t recall even speaking to Galen and arranging a date. Why would she? He disgusted her!

  Dawning, and even with that dawning, knowing that her father had compelled her, she could not resist the need to dress and prepare herself for her date with Galen. Her father had compelled her to wear the prettiest dress she owned to dine with a man she despised. In that moment she knew she was powerless to resist that dictate.

  All at once she knew.

  If she stayed she would end up married and in bed with a man she loathed.

  Just as her mother said he would do, her father had compelled her to do something against her will.

  She went running back toward her home. When she exploded into the kitchen she found her mother already brewing something on the stove. Her mother looked at her and said, “I know. I felt it the moment I lost you to his compulsion spell. I cannot undo it, but I can put you out of range long enough for it to wear off.”

  “Then do so, Mom. Do it! You were right, I know. As sick as it makes me feel, I will put on a pretty dress and go out with Galen which means the next thing he will do is force me to marry the creep.”

  “Not only that. He will enable Galen to get you pregnant immediately and before your majority.”

  “Get me out of here!”

  ~ One ~

  Everyone can master a grief but he that has it.

  Shakespeare (Much Ado About Nothing)

  1815 England

  IN BEAULIEU, IN the lush green of the New Forest, a small and once charming manor estate reposed. It was known as Kingston House.

  Exerilla’s mother, Rachel had visited there a year ago. She would have been shocked to see the disrepair the grounds had fallen into in this short time.

  Rachel was invisible to the occupants of the modest manor house. She flitted about one year ago, waved her wand and conducted her all encompassing memory spell, so that Exerilla’s arrival would be expected. Letters had been written and left for them as proof positive and all had been prepared for the arrival of her daughter.

  Every member of the household believed they had an American friend who had passed away. They expected that his daughter, Exerilla Radley, would be arriving to stay with them as a treasured guest in their home.

  She had not expected that Kingston House would change so drastically in just one short year and that the life she her daughter would be hurled into would be filled with such serious problems and confusion.

  Exerilla shook her head. She wasn’t sure what to do. She had come running from a mess right into another.

  Exerilla looked out the dirty but panoramic window of the drawing room, onto the long winding drive that led to the main road. The driveway was rutted and full of puddles from the hard rain they had experienced the night before.

  The lawns were green, but very little grass remained. There were weeds of different lengths, some budding while others were ready to shoot out their seeds and take over completely what had once been a manicured lawn.

  Only the tall oaks whose branches met one another to shade the drive remained a signature of better times.

  Exerilla took up her dark wool shawl and went to the front door. She wrapped it tightly around herself as she stepped into the cold, delicious fresh air.

  A brisk walk brought her to the stables and she sighed. They too, were in a state of disrepair. Everything at Kingston House had been sold to pay the creditors.

  Rachel had spelled the squire and his family into believing he had a ward, the orphaned daughter of a dear friend who had moved to America years ago. The only trouble with this was that she had not investigated matters past their veneer. The Squire of Kingston House had been an inveterate gambler and had lost everything only a month after her visit.

  He was unable to face the ruin he had brought upon his family and himself and had shot himself in the head, leaving his family to face the creditors without him.

  Exerilla arrived to find chaos.

  She held the squires’ grieving wife and gave what comfort she as a stranger could give. Had she been allowed to perform real magic, she would have been able to adjust their finances and been able to ease their pain.

  Her mother had warned her that only the most basic magic should be used. Her father could track her into the past if she used more than that. She had refused to leave her wand behind, but it was relegated to an invisible air space just within reach. She sighed as she even missed the feel of it under her pillow. But her mom was right, powerful magic left a residue and if used, her father would trace it back to her. She felt helpless.

  She turned as she heard the scrape of wheels she stepped to the side of the wet drive and allowed the open wagon to pass. The young driver tipped his peaked wool cap and X gave him a half smile as she turned back to the house. It was time
.

  The family was unable to care for themselves let alone anyone else and had decided to send her off to distant relatives.

  She was in a major fix.

  Here she was in the year of 1815 surrounded by strangers. Even though her mother had filled their minds with who she was, they were strangers to her. She did have an emergency purse of money in her trunk, but she wasn’t sure it would be enough to last till the end of October.

  Obviously her mother had not known she would need more and she was at a loss to know what to do about the problem.

  She almost used her wand a few times, but then she would imagine herself going out with Galen and immediately controlled herself.

  At least her mother had provided a full trunk of clothes. Okay, Xie girl you can do this, she told herself silently. It is only for a few months.

  Exerilla watched the young farmer, the son of one of the Kingston tenants, as he loaded her luggage onto the wagon before she walked up to him. She smiled and he tipped his peaked tweed wool cap once again, “Good day to ye, Miss Exerilla.”

  He looked her over and blushed shyly. Seeing this, she thought he was adorable and spoke sweetly as she said, “I’ll just fetch my cloak.” She turned back to the house. She had already said her good-byes, and her cloak was just inside the door on the coat rack.

  A moment later, draping her black wool cloak around herself, she set her little bonnet in place over her long black hair and bolstered herself as she stepped back outside. “You can do this”, she told herself once more.

  The young farmer gave her his hand to help her up onto the seat, and said, “Ye look that fine, ye do, Miss Radley.”

  “Thanks, Kenny,” she said and plopped herself onto the wooden seat of the open conveyance. A dark cloud had just begun to form overhead, and she hoped it wouldn’t rain again. “That is very kind of you, I do appreciate it.”

  “I could listen to ye all day, every day,” he said. “I love yer American way of talking, and don’t be thanking me. I’d do anything fer ye, Miss Radley.” He took up the reins, but did not encourage his two chestnut cob horses forward as he looked at her and then down at his hands to add, “I’ll be missing ye sorely.”

  She giggled, “I have been here less than a week, Kenny.”

  “And lit it up, ye did, nothing will be the same with ye gone,” he answered on a long drawn out sigh.

  “I shall miss you too. Our talks in the field were the brightest moments of my days here.” She had often come across him when she took one of her long walks, and he had in his quiet way taught her a great deal about the people of the times and the land. The only knowledge she had was from the little encyclopedia her mother had stuffed into her head, but getting the picture first hand was so much better.

  He ducked his head and clicked his tongue to get his horses interested in moving forward. X thought about her old horse Butch and wished she were home riding him down the bridle trails.

  They began the trip down the bumpy drive to the main road, each lost to thought and silence reigned for a few moments.

  They reached the main road, where another country road forked off to his farmhouse. He stopped the wagon at that point and turned anxiously to her and said “Mayhap ye might think again about going to people ye don’t know.”

  “I don’t have a choice,” she said releasing a long breath of air.

  “Well, ye could stay with us. M’pa wouldn’t mind and m’mum could always use an extra hand putting up the summer vegetables and…”

  “Kenny, I can’t,” she said firmly.

  “No, I don’t suppose ye can, being gentry and all,” he said again urging his horses with a sorrowful sound and sad eyes.

  “Gentry?” she laughed. “No, that isn’t it, but I am expected at Horwich House.”

  He grunted but said nothing to this.

  What have I done? Exerilla thought sorrowfully. Why couldn’t I have just hidden from my father somewhere in my own time? Maybe I could have beaten the compulsion spell? She was so conflicted and unhappy, lonely and out of sync. Nothing felt right or comfortable and she wasn’t sure how she was going to manage until October’s end as it was months away. No electricity, no TV, no music, no hot running water and no pizza.

  They had reached the edge of the village where a wooden structure, whose sign denoted ‘Stagecoach Depot’, made her look around and sigh once more.

  Kenny helped her out of the wagon and loaded her luggage at the boot of the stagecoach. She gave him a small smile; he surprised her by taking her shoulders in his large calloused hands. He with more speed then agility bent to place a firm good-by kiss on her lips.

  He blushed as he came away and said, “I can’t say I’m sorry for doing that.”

  She gave him a crooked smile and waved her hand, “No need.”

  A moment later he helped her into the stagecoach where she sat across from two elderly ladies. She smiled and nodded, but they didn’t appear to be too friendly.

  They had evidently witnessed Kenny’s sudden kiss and in addition to that, she supposed they did not approve of her traveling unchaperoned.

  Fleetingly she wondered how she had ever thought she could manage in the past. She just wasn’t going to fit in. At least she didn’t have to care. She would be leaving this century, perhaps not soon enough, but before she could really rake up any scandal. This thought made her smile to herself.

  Exerilla sat back against the worn leather squabs and decided that she was just going to have to make the best of things. She had always wanted to see the White Cliffs of Dover and now she was going to be doing just that. She never thought she would be alone in another century, without real magic for protection. But, that wasn’t going to stop her from making do. She was made of better stuff than that.

  Okay Dover. Here I come, but holy shit!

  First however, she would have to survive the withering looks she was getting from the old biddies sitting across from her.

  ~Two~

  EVERY NOW AND then a man walks into a room and draws all eyes his way without trying. He is a man who inspires admiration without seeking it, tickles a touch of fear without instigating it, halts conversation while he is studied and is certainly a man who stands out above all others.

  Lord Hunter MacTorry was just such a man.

  Perhaps it was the mystique that hung about him and had been his for many years, in spite of the fact, that he was just thirty. It could be the wisdom with which he used his various experiences, maybe it was something else.

  Although he had presence, knew his own worth and who he was, he couldn’t have been described as arrogant or conceited.

  He was taller than most, athletically built and quite magnetically handsome. He chose to wear his black gleaming locks long layered to his neckline. Thick waves fell across his forehead and framed his face.

  A charm that was considered devastating when he chose to smile had the ladies forever at his feet. Roguish mischief lit in his Scottish blue eyes. He was virile and an enigma to his peers. It was quite the lethal combination.

  Given all of this, the haut ton could not truly understand why he had gone astray. He knew the whispers. Indeed, he had often heard them with a smile. It was just what he wanted. He didn’t need anyone getting too close or too curious.

  They talked in hushed tones whenever he entered a room, but that was what he needed. He wanted them to wonder, he needed them to whisper. It was all a part of his façade and the game he played.

  Two years ago he had arrived in London, bent on his new purpose. He had been roaming dimensions and various centuries for two hundred years. Since he hadn’t been traveling for fun, he never stayed long anywhere he went.

  He was sure that in the end no good could come of his intentions, and yet he could not stop himself from going forward with his plans.

  He was aware that the rules were in place for a reason.

  When he was very young, he had been cautioned by his father never to play with time and past events. He had
been conquered by this obsession, sure that his cause was worthy and therefore would have to succeed.

  In order to achieve his goals, he had been forced to play the part of just another wealthy rogue with too much time on his hands. He had soon tired of society and had become heartily sick of the beau monde and its many hedonistic rituals. He needed to implement his plans and find a way to make it work this time.

  Hunter MacTorry was ready to exact his revenge.

  He allowed everyone to think he was driven by boredom and the devil. He purposely gambled and drank too much He also let it be seen that he became easily bored. He was waiting for the moment when he could face the Dark Wizard and destroy him and to do that, he would have to take him by surprise. He would have to make certain the Dark Wizard Baudali did not know he was in the past waiting to strike!

  The Wizard Baudali had taken so much from him… he had to pay. He had chased him through the Universe, but the bastard had eluded him. Then quite by accident, he had seen him in London taking on the part of an aristocrat and enjoying his status with the beau monde. But no sooner had he found him, and he was gone.

  Ye devil, Baudali, thought Hunter I shall find ye and cut ye down because I know what ye mean to do it. I know because I lived through it.

  He had not been able to save his parents.

  Baudali had won that round. Now he would have to save his brother, then he would cut off Baudali’s immortal head and feed it to the vultures!

  Waiting was difficult, but he had found something to amuse himself with while he waited.

  Although he didn’t look much more that twenty-five, Hunter had reached his magical majority of thirty, years ago. He looked human, but he wasn’t. He was an immortal white wizard, like his father before him.