Prince, Prelude-Legend

by Claudy Conn

  Saved him from what?

  * * *

  Lamia DuLaine was beside herself with frustration. Her amber eyes glittered threateningly. She had a sudden need for blood.

  No one had ever been immune to her call. No one. How had the chit managed to break through? Lamia stood transfixed as she watched Maxie lead Talbot to the glass doors. She stood resolute even though Maxie had taken him outdoors and away from her immediate sphere. She could see them in her mind. She couldn’t believe what she saw, but she could see as Maxie made him inhale fresh air, exhale…

  How was this possible? How had that piece of frill broken through her probe, her siren’s call? Was their attachment so strong? This was beyond everything she had ever known.

  Had she underestimated the chit? An unexpected, but surely minor, setback. Maxine would have to be dealt with soon. This would have to take planning, and she must be very cautious. She had to find just the right way, just the right style.

  In the meantime, she would have to get closer…

  That was an easy enough goal. Unobtrusively she approached a woman surrounded by her clique and managed to pull her aside. Lady Jersey was one of London’s reigning hostesses. She was respected by most, loved by many, and certainly feared by all since she had the Prince Regent’s ear. Lamia had manipulated her many times. She did so now, quickly and to her purpose.

  Within moments, Lady Jersey was introducing Maxine Reigate to Lamia DuLaine. “Darling child, la but you must know Lamia…Lady DuLaine? No? I see that you don’t.” She paused as though confused and then went on. “Well then, ’tis time you two met. Lamia and Julian are, I believe, already acquainted.” Lady Jersey seemed to avoid directly looking at Lamia, and Maxie hearing the name knew the rumors that went with it.

  “La!” Lady Jersey lightly threw up a hand to someone across the room. “There’s Felix. I must go to him, for I haven’t seen him in an age.” Thus, Lady Jersey left Lamia to face Julian and Maxine on her own.

  Maxine flashed a quick smile to the DuLaine and then a saucy one to her beloved before saying, “I can quite believe that you two are acquainted. It is my opinion that Julian knows every beautiful woman on this earth!”

  His lordship gave Maxine’s hand an affectionate squeeze. “Monkey.”

  He turned to Lamia, but before he could speak, Lamia offered softly, “We met…” She looked at Maxine, and her voice was low and suggestive when she added, “…in Brussels.”

  Maxine was an innocent, unused to such games, yet she sensed the Lady DuLaine meant her ill. She went with her instinct. Looking towards Julian, she knew at once that his encounter with this woman meant nothing to him. She also knew that this woman did not offer her friendship. Maxine’s shoulders squared off; she was ready.

  “Brussels!” Julian snorted disgustedly. “What a mad time with Boney on the move and society going about their fashionable balls as though war were not imminent!”

  “War is always a reason for unrestrained hedonism—inevitable. Men are forever seeking both,” Lamia said softly as she gazed openly into Julian’s blue eyes, displaying her desire for Maxine to see. She was a tall woman, and still he towered over her. She imagined him covering her body with his hard, muscled one

  He frowned over her words and started to refute them; however, Maxine called Lamia’s attention to herself with a tone sharper than she had meant to use. “Love restrains excess. In the end it is love and friendship that wins over and restrains us all—don’t you think, Lady DuLaine?”

  Lamia eyed Maxine as though she were an insect. “Love? My poor child, do you think such a feeble, unstable, fleeting emotion capable of the power of restraint?”

  “In its pure form, love is capable of a great many illogical things, my lady.” Maxine suddenly giggled at herself, forgetting the woman’s hard-core coolness. “And now, ’tis capable of hunger…great hunger!” Maxine playfully growled this as she twinkled up at Julian. “Duty calls, sir! Food! ’Tis time you saw me fed. What say you, my dearest lord?”

  Maxine turned to Lamia. She no longer cared to be more than civil. “Do excuse us, my lady…ah, and I see the Prince Regent is calling to you…”

  A few steps away Maxine breathed a sigh of relief and advised her beloved in hot terms, “I know I should not form instant opinions, but I tell you frankly, my love, I do not like that woman.” She looked over her shoulder and discovered Lamia looking her way. “She makes me…uncomfortable.”

  Julian was already frowning. He was fairly certain Lamia DuLaine had meant mischief and was secretly concerned. He knew Maxine and knew that, as innocent as she might be, she had been fully aware the DuLaine had not extended a hand of friendship. “Indeed, monkey-girl…there is something odd about her.” He discovered a servant with a tray of delectables. “Ah, my sweet…food.”

  “Oh, never mind the food. Here are the garden doors…quick—take me outside and kiss me!”

  ~ Five ~

  ACROSS THE ATLANTIC, ocean waves crashed against the rocks. The white foam glimmered dimly beneath the bright light of the moon. Daniel Reigate stood at his large bowed window, and although his home overlooked the harbor, not the open ocean, he saw it and past it; he saw his sister’s image vivid against the backdrop of the foam.

  Her smile faded, and her green eyes that mirrored his own suddenly took on a glint of fear. Her smile totally vanished, and her expression filled with concern. She was worried. He felt her emotion as though she were in the room with him, and then he saw a tear linger in her eye before it made its way down her cheek. Something was wrong—terribly wrong.

  It had started with a dream, a dream of his sister, and it had ended in a nightmare. Earlier he had awakened with a start, with an all-consuming fear permeating his body, and he knew immediately. It was happening again. It was happening as it had so many times before. It would take hold of him, and it would only stop if he saw it through to its conclusion.

  This was their burden, their shared secret, his and his sister Maxie’s awful secret. It was the thing he had been running from all his life. This was the taboo subject his sweet mother would never discuss. This was the secret his father had warned him to never speak of…

  And even so, he had not hidden it from his bride. They shared everything—how could they not? It was what kept him sane and steady.

  It was the God-awful knowledge of what he and Maxie held in their souls. Besides the great love they had for one another, they shared the burden and the bond of the secret that made them so different than their peers.

  Here he was in New York, in America, and that bond was as strong as ever. He glanced back at the large four-poster bed he shared with his young wife, Lisa. She slept soundly—she and their unborn child. He had told her what terrors he and Maxie had suffered as children. May his own children be spared.

  His father had been spared; thus perhaps it would skip his children, and they could live in peace?

  Daniel Reigate frowned to himself. He had made a good life for himself and his young bride. He had followed his dream of shipbuilding and was already enjoying the pride of his success. His father had not wanted him to leave. He was the male heir to their modest estates, but Daniel’s needs outweighed tradition.

  Daniel wanted the New World with its great open lands, with its wildly exciting opportunities. He already loved the world he had adopted. Indeed, he loved his work, but more than that had kept him in New York. He had hoped the further away he was from England, the further away he would be from the cogency and its terrors!

  Now he knew that wasn’t to be. It was something he carried within him, and there was no getting rid of it. His poor little Max—she should be told. He should break his oath to his parents now and tell her.

  What he needed to do now, quickly, while his thoughts were still intact, while his mind was still focused, was to write Maxine. He had to write her and hope his message would mean something to her. He would tell her what he saw, what he felt. Perhaps she would be able to fit his pieces with hers and
come up with a solution. Time … would there be enough time?

  * * *

  Prince Breslyn paced in the dimension that kept him apart but allowed him to watch the proceedings between the humans and Lamia DuLaine. He didn’t like his position as observer. He was a more ‘hands on’ sort, and this sitting back allowing fate to take its course sorely went against the grain. In fact, he damn well hated it.

  He had been watching the pretty Maxine and knew she couldn’t possibly face the DuLaine without knowing what she was and what she could do. She was capable of great power, but no one had bothered to train her.

  It should be his job to help her reach her potential since she had obviously been kept in the dark. He was on the verge of breaking all the rules and showing himself to Maxine—telling her who and what she was—when the queen arrived. With that knowing way of hers, she regarded him coolly as she said in greeting, “My Prince.”

  He inclined his head and started to speak, but she put up a hand and said softly, “It has come to my attention that you are needed in Scotland. You should go to her, as I fear that even the gentle words of Casey MacClean cannot help Destinee. It is you she needs now.”

  The prince nodded and shifted to Destinee’s chambers in the MacClean castle. She was naked on the floor, save for the blanket pulled up around her. Her face was lined with wet tears. Her eyes large and filled with fear, but when she saw him, they softened with ready welcome and she raised her hands. “Breslyn…oh…I have missed you…”

  He smiled, bent, and scooped her up like a babe. Taking her to her bed, he placed her gently on her mattress and covered her with the quilts. He then sat angled to face her as he held her hand to his chest. “Now, sweet Destinee…what is all this?”

  She eyed him sweetly and said, “Kiss me, Breslyn…kiss me and make me forget…”

  He didn’t question it. He only wanted to banish her pain. He only wanted to soothe her any way he could, so he kissed her lovingly and with the kind of passion that swept her away. She clung to him in her desperation to live in the moment.

  As he laid her back on the bed, she grasped at him and whispered, “Take me now, my sweet prince…take me…make me yours at last…”

  Again, he didn’t question her. He knew this was what she needed now, and although he had always wanted her, he wanted to please her more. His lovemaking began with sweet kisses and grew into something wild and uncontrolled as she threw herself into his touch. At one point she held his face and sighed sadly. “I do love you…in my fashion, Breslyn.”

  “Hush, sweet—don’t think…just feel…feel this…” And he pushed into her with his hard rod and smiled to see her arch with pleasure.

  He kissed her full mouth and made wild love to her, over and over again all night, taking, meeting, and matching her passion until she fell back smiling and exhausted.

  He stayed with her while she slept curled up in his arms, and although he knew he should return to his mission, he would not abandon her. He would stay with her for as long as she needed him.

  However, in the morning she seemed so well, almost like the young, happy girl he had first met as she hugged him and shooed him away, telling him she was off to do some shopping with Casey.

  “Shall I escort you and Casey?” he asked, touching her cheek.

  “No…I promised her a ladies’ day outing, and so it shall be. I am always so glum, and she deserves better.”

  “As you wish then, sweet Destinee,” he said and kissed her fingers.

  “You will return to me—tonight—yes…you will not forget?” she asked, suddenly anxious.

  “Of course—I could never forget my Destinee.” The prince smiled and kissed her long and lovingly. “As long as you want me I am yours.” But even as she smiled and waved him off, something didn’t feel right to him. He saw a light in her eyes—those lovely speaking eyes—that seemed off, and so he went to visit with Casey MacClean, who told him what he already knew: that even in Destinee’s most lucid moments she still pined, despite all he had done to her, for Gaiscioch…

  * * *

  It was nearly dark; the hour was late. They had been shopping for her wedding trousseau all afternoon, and Maxine was heartily tired of it all. However, her fidgets were the result of something else entirely.

  Her senses were on the alert. As she listened to her mother happily chatting away about this or that, Maxie looked not at the soft pink muslin gown spread out for her inspection but somewhere into space. The tingle developed into a frigid shiver. Without the slightest doubt, Maxie knew that someone, someone not quite like any other being on earth, was watching her.

  A sensation she had not felt in a long time coursed through her veins, and Maxine knew. She had felt it for most of the afternoon, but now it rang bells in her head!

  Maxine moved away from the seamstress and her mother to glance out the bowed window overlooking Bond Street. The fashionable avenue was busy with late-day traffic, but Maxie’s didn’t really need to look for who was watching her. She knew.

  It was the Lady DuLaine.

  Maxie watched Lamia DuLaine slowly turn and, just as slowly, walk off into the dusky evening. Even so, Max had felt their eyes meet briefly, too briefly, but long enough to cause the DuLaine to abruptly take her leave.

  Maxie felt a threat in the air. It was unexpected, yet it explained something of what she had sensed all day. Maxie watched as the DuLaine concealed herself in a crowd of pedestrians. Lamia’s face was actually shielded by a thin, dark veil, and yet Maxie saw her perfectly clearly…because Max was using more than her eyes.

  Maxie nearly recoiled from the flash of loathing that seemed directed at her from the woman. She felt more than a threat from Lamia. Max knew immediately that Lamia meant her harm. It was unexpected and sent a wave of dizziness through her that made her unsteady.

  She clutched the back of a nearby chair for support and had to catch her breath. She felt as though she had just been running a long, uphill distance. She licked her lips, which felt suddenly parched and dry.

  She struggled to regain control of herself even as she analyzed why the wave of hatred she felt in the atmosphere belonged to the DuLaine.

  You stoopid girl! You know why, she told herself. The DuLaine wants Julian, of course. She wants him near to obsession. That had been obvious the other night, but why should she watch her? There was more to it all, but what?

  Something sinister lay beyond the ordinary, something beyond her immediate realm of understanding.

  Maxie wasn’t sure that what she was sensing was valid. She wasn’t sure because she didn’t know just what she was—yet. She didn’t know what to think of the chill this woman sent through her. She only knew that this woman inspired her with terror. There was something deep-seated in the DuLaine woman, something unknown and inexplicably frightening.

  “Darling, what are you doing?” Maxie’s mother put the material she was holding into the dressmaker’s hands and walked over to where Max stood at the window. Smiling affectionately, she gave her daughter’s shoulders a squeeze. “Daydreaming of your wedding day?” She sensed this was not so, but she wanted to change the mood. “So it should be.” She sighed heavily. “Come on then, love, one more decision, and then we are done for the day.”

  Maxie returned her mother’s smile to spare her concern, but her mind’s eye was elsewhere and on the alert. Maxie’s heart beat rapidly in her chest, and a whisper, a familiar voice, softly whispered in her head that all was not right…

  * * *

  Lamia hurried down the avenue. Her thoughts were not very different from Maxine’s thoughts. She was confused and nearly disoriented. She was caught in the midst, in the clutches, of disbelief.

  She had nearly gasped out loud with surprise when she discovered Maxine looking directly at her. How could that be? She had concealed herself in her way, in her own field of power. It should have been impossible for Maxine Reigate or any other human being to see her! Yet their eyes had met, and she felt a strong sense of
the chit who didn’t back down.

  This was incomprehensible. Maxine Reigate’s probing and intrusive green eyes had found her own…and probed.

  Lamia was pitched into a frenzy. Maxine’s gaze had actually locked onto hers. Maxine’s aura had dipped into her mind. How was that possible? She was Lamia of DuLaine!

  Slowly, without attracting attention to herself, she had turned to walk away, and still she could feel the girl’s probing eyes. She was cloaked, and yet the chit could see her. Lamia had to stop herself from breaking into a run. For the first time in a long time, Lamia felt something close to fear.

  Boldly, and yet with a gentleness Lamia had long ago forgotten was possible, Maxine’s aura attempted to penetrate the space between them. Lamia’s shields slammed against themselves in haste as she hurried to make her escape.

  Although she was able to keep Maxine at a distance, Lamia was badly shaken. What was this? It could be no more than a freak of the moment.

  Was she being fanciful? Had her jealously caused some unusual rift in her armor? Maxine Reigate was naught, naught! Lamia was on edge. She felt off balance as the dark engulfed her. She moved swiftly down the avenue and took refuge in night air’s coolness. She told herself she was allowing the ridiculous incident to override her good sense. This was nothing. The chit had simply looked out the window towards her by chance. By chance. The chit had not seen her, not really. As to Maxine’s mind probe? Nothing again, only her own fancy. That was all it was, all it could be.

  Indeed, what else could it be? She alone had the power…

  Still, something she could not name tickled her memory and reverberated in her mind. She frowned it away. Something familiar tried to stir itself in her consciousness, but again, she couldn’t quite get hold of it. Caution, Lamia, she told herself.

  Lamia had learned so much about human nature and its vast diversities. Indeed, she had discovered every now and then an individual could stimulate fear in her. An inner voice clucked that reminder. Human nature was forever confounding. Every now and then she discovered an individual with unique qualities of perception and ‘sight’. These people were just simply more intuitive than most. She was never in any real danger from them. No…well, perhaps once, very nearly, but she had eliminated that problem.