by Jackie Ivie
“Are they?”
“You would never have poisoned your father.”
“You think not?”
His father was poisoned? Damn. This was really good stuff. Unbelievable. Then again, little had been believable ever since she’d fallen overboard in the section of the Colorado River called Satan’s Gut. Been pulled from the ocean in the year 1790. Met the man of her dreams. Fallen in love.
This had to be the best Christmas on record.
Holy shit. Morrigan was an Earl? Once they wed, she wondered what would that made her. Oh, wait, Elena. She needed to pay attention. They were speaking again.
“I attended your stepmother for last rites. A month past.”
“The marchioness has died?”
“Dowager Marchioness.”
Oh. Sweet. That must be her title. She’d be a marchioness. Sounded very impressive. Then again, what did she care? Morrigan was an impressive man. She’d have wed him regardless of what he was. Peasant farmer. Penniless adventurer. Scoundrel.
“You know, I cannot divulge what transpired at last rites, but your stepmother believed she’d been poisoned. By the same hand that had killed her husband. Your half-brother.”
“He poisoned his own mother?”
Whoa.
This brother sounded like an evil shit. They needed to get moving. Find an army and pay for them. Rescue everyone. First things first, though. It was Christmas day. Late. She was getting married. And then, they were going to say good-bye to Father Simon. Maybe exchange a few words. And then she was going to unwrap her husband like a present, and —
“Elena?”
She shook her head. Stared for a moment uncomprehendingly at Morrigan before answering.
“Um. Yes?”
“Father Simon wishes to know if you are ready.”
“Heck, yeah. I mean—”
Elena straightened and then cleared her throat. Tried to sound like a marchioness – whatever that was. But then she ruined it by giggling. “I mean. Yes. I am.”
He grunted. And Dang! She really loved it when he did that. He held out his left arm to her, crooked at the elbow. Elena let go of the pole and settled her fingertips atop his forearm. She’d seen this done in movies. She hoped she did it right. She glanced up at him. He was smiling. Good thing he didn’t wink. She’d have probably fallen. He took a step toward the door, turning her at his side so they faced the priest.
“You have a ring?” Father Simon asked.
“Ah. It had escaped my mind, Father, but I do have a family ring. A small one. It might even fit.”
Morrigan wore it on the little finger of his left hand. Elena wasn’t giving up her grasp. He worked the ring off, moving a lot of muscle beneath her fingertips. She nearly gave sound to a sigh of appreciation. But it didn’t really matter. He was entirely sigh-worthy and she was in love...and then he showed her the ring.
Elena gasped. Her knees wavered. And her eyes went huge. And for a moment everything spun. It was identical to the spiral ring she’d purchased in the gift shop. Somewhere in Arizona. How could that be?
“What is it, milis?”
She remembered that word. It meant sweet. Tears were threatening again. Elena sniffed.
“I have a really bad feeling about this,” she replied.
“Wedding me?”
“Oh, no. Never. But...do we have another ring I can use? Perhaps something in my...jewelry trunk?”
“You fret for naught, my love.”
His eyes were so riveting. Mesmeric. And completely enthralling. She barely heard what he said, but she heard the endearment he called her. And everything went to a standstill as he finished.
“’Tis just a ring. What could possibly happen?”
“Please?”
“Is brea liom tu.”
“What?”
“That is Celtic. It means...I love you.”
Oh my stars.
Elena was going to melt.
There couldn’t be a better setting. Or a better future. Or a more wonderful Christmas. Elena kept the sobs at bay while saying her vows. Listening to his. She wasn’t as successful when he kissed the spiral ring. But they were tears of happiness now. Rinsing away every hint of her past.
He slid the ring onto her finger. And absolutely nothing untoward happened. The little golden spiral sitting on her finger glowed in the firelight. Reacting with the haze of wonder that surrounded her...and the man she loved. The Native American woman from the gift shop had been right when she’d sold an identical ring to Elena. Owning this ring was her destiny. She’d simply needed to alleviate the portals of time to reach it.
She’d never believed in Christmas magic.
Well.
She did now.
About the Author
Jackie Ivie lives in the enormous state of Alaska with her husband and three very spoiled pets. She started her writing career writing hot highland historical romances for Kensington Publishing. There are now ten “Clans series” books, available in seven languages. Keeping her head in the clouds most of the time, Jackie now spends her time researching, developing, and writing her three paranormal series – the Vampire Assassin League, the Chronicles of the Hunter, and the Portals of Time, as well as her other historical line – the Brocade Collection.
Jackie loves hearing from fans, who can contact her at
www.jackieivie.com or www.VampireAssassinLeague.com
Want to keep up with the assassins of the Vampire Assassin League? Consider joining the Assassin Street Team at
http://www.facebook.com/groups/379151425455048/
ALLEVIATE is the second installment of The Portals of Time series.
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Alleviate Copyright © 2016 Jackie Ivie
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