by Meara Platt
Suddenly, the church bell clanged once. Twice.
“Charlie! Oh, hold on!” She ran past the nave, through her father’s study, and up the tower stairs. She was lightheaded and breathing hard by the time she reached the belfry. The bell no longer rang. She held up the lantern and saw Charlie. He was almost within her reach, his hands held out and eyes pleading for her to take him into her arms.
“Stay back,” Lord Eastbourne warned, his voice barely above a whisper. “It’s a trick. It isn’t safe.”
But this was Charlie and he needed her.
Lord Eastbourne clamped his arms around her waist. “I said, stay back.”
“What are you doing?” She struggled in vain against him. “Let me go!”
“Julia, I’m so scared,” Charlie whimpered. “Save me.”
“I will, sweetling.” She pleaded for Lord Eastbourne to release her and then began to pound her fists against his chest. He shouted something at her.
“Look, Julia! Look at the floor!” He took her chin into one of his hands and forced her gaze downward. “Can’t you see the steps are broken? There’s nothing but air and a fifty-foot drop between you and Charlie!”
As she regained her senses, she saw that he was right. Her heart stilled. “Mercy.”
She would have run straight to Charlie and fallen to her death. The small clang of the bell she’d heard earlier, she realized with a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach, must have been Charlie swinging to the ledge on the rope used to toll the bell. She let out a sob. “Oh, no. We have to get him back on this side before his legs give out.”
Lord Eastbourne nodded. “Charlie,” he said, his voice firm and authoritative, “toss over the bell’s rope.”
The boy shook his head and sniffled. “King Cadeyrn says I mustn’t.”
Julia’s body began to quake in fear, but she knew the boy better than anyone, better than Lord Eastbourne or the faerie king. She simply had to save him. “Charlie, my little love, did King Cadeyrn bring you up here?” She was a mass of shivers and trembles on the inside, but outwardly she maintained her calm, for the slightest doubt would send Charlie into a panic. She didn’t want the boy to do anything foolish.
Charlie shook his head again. “No, I ran up here on my own.”
“On your own? How very brave of you.”
“Julia, it feels so good to use my legs.”
“I know, my little love.” A gust of wind blew through the belfry, cold and biting. Julia’s eyes began to sting, but the tears escaping down her cheeks had nothing to do with the wintery breeze.
“I’m tired, Julia. My body hurts. I don’t think I can stand much longer.”
“You won’t have to. All you have to do is throw me the bell rope.”
“I told you! King Cadeyrn won’t let me!”
“All right, Charlie. I’m sorry, my love. I forgot.”
She turned to Lord Eastbourne in desperation. “How do we rescue him?”
Lord Eastbourne secured his grip on her waist, anchoring her to his side. “We don’t.”
“What? Do you expect me to let him fall off the tower?”
“That is precisely what he will do if you go after him. Julia, he must do this himself.” He glanced at the frightened child. “Charlie, do you think you can swing back to us?”
“No, Uncle Douglas. I’m too scared.”
Julia glowered at the earl. “He hasn’t the strength to do it on his own.”
Lord Eastbourne shook his head. “Doesn’t he? He’s part Eastbourne. Stubborn, confident. The point is, if you don’t believe in him, then he won’t stand a chance.”
Julia nodded. Of course, the Fae king may have lured Charlie to the bell tower, but Charlie hadn’t jumped. He’d remained connected to the mortal world, connected to her. The boy’s love for her was the only thing that would save him.
Her love for Charlie was stronger than life itself.
Indeed, she’d sacrifice her own life without a moment’s thought to keep him safe. For the first time, she realized the extent of Charlie’s strength, the power of his innocent little heart. He’d endured years of physical pain without complaint to stay with her.
“My little love,” she called out brightly, though her tears were like a river silently running down her cheeks. “I’ve set out warm cinnamon tarts and hot cocoa for the three of us. You, me, and your Uncle Douglas. He has stories to tell you of your father, so many funny adventures. Did you know that your father was even more of a scamp than you? Imagine, we’ll have hundreds of tales to entertain us through the winter. Don’t you wish to hear them?”
“I do,” Charlie replied, but his voice sounded icy and remote.
“And your Uncle Douglas has dozens of portraits of your father, but they’re at Eastbourne. Don’t you wish to see them?” She forced a joyful laugh. “Do you think your father looked like you when he was younger?”
“I don’t know. Did he, Uncle Douglas?”
Lord Eastbourne cast the boy an exquisitely tender gaze. “I’m not sure. I think you have more freckles, but I’ll have to set you beside his portrait and count them. We’ll do that as soon as you’ve settled in at Eastbourne. You, me, and Julia. I think we three make a fine family, don’t you?”
Julia’s heart skipped a beat.
No, she wouldn’t believe.
“I… I had better not go to Eastbourne. I don’t want to disappoint King Cadeyrn. He’s waiting for me. And you don’t like Julia. You wanted to steal me away from her.”
“I was wrong, Charlie. But Julia and I are friends now. She’s welcome at Eastbourne for as long as you wish her to stay.”
“Forever.”
Lord Eastbourne nodded. “Yes, if you wish it. Then that’s how long she’s welcome to stay.”
“How can I know you’re telling the truth? King Cadeyrn warned that you’d lie to me, trick me into believing you. He said you’re a trickster and you’re cruel. He said you have secrets that you haven’t shared with me or Julia.”
“My little love,” Julia said, “we all have things we like to keep private. What matters is that you trust me and you know I’ve never lied to you.”
“But what about his secrets?”
“Well, it isn’t really our business, is it? What matters is that Lord Eastbourne and I are friends now. And if he dares to trick us… well, we’ll beat him over the head with one of his fine walking sticks. Together, you and I are stronger than any one man, whether English earl or faerie king.”
Charlie promptly agreed.
“There’s so much for you to learn at Eastbourne,” Julia continued, her gaze fixed on the rope Charlie toyed with in his hands. “Don’t you wish to see where your father grew up? The rooms in which he played, where he slept, his favorite rocking horse. Charlie, I need you to swing back to me now.”
“I… I don’t… know.”
“Yes, you do. Come back to us, dearest. Come back to the vicarage, to the warming fire and hot cinnamon tarts. Or would you prefer sweet buns?”
“They’re my favorite.”
“I know.”
“Can I have three?”
“Yes, my little love. You have an earl for an uncle and everyone knows earls are rich. He’ll buy you a hundred if you wish!”
Charlie laughed.
Julia breathed a sigh of relief, for Charlie’s joy had returned. She had to get him to swing across before an angry King Cadeyrn, realizing his failure, once again crippled the boy. “Your Uncle Douglas loved your father and came here loving you. You felt the strength of his love the moment he took your hand in his.”
“The Fae king loves me, too!”
“Does he? Has he ever taken you into his arms? Hugged or kissed you? Has he nursed you when you were ill? Fed you, bathed you, played chess with you?”
“But I’ll never be ill. I’ll always have food. I’ll be able to walk!”
Julia held out her arms to the boy. “Charlie, I think you can walk now. I think you’ve always been able to walk, bu
t King Cadeyrn has been holding you back. How did you get up here tonight if not on your own two legs?”
“Ow, it hurts! Why are you being so mean to King Cadeyrn, Julia?”
“I love you, Charlie. I’ve loved you from the moment I first set eyes on your tiny red face and those baby tufts of chestnut hair. I wake up happy every day because of you. I know you feel the same way about me. I know it, Charlie. I know it in my heart. My little love, you’ll break my heart if you leave me now.”
“I love you, Julia. I do. I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Then trust me. Do exactly as I say.”
Charlie began to cry.
“Sweetling, you’re not ready to join the Fae realm. Pull back on the rope with all of your might and swing back to us right now. We’ll catch you. Don’t be afraid. On the count of three. One…”
“I can’t! My legs are tingling. I can’t feel them!”
“Give it your strongest push, Charlie. Two. Three!”
She heard a grunt, then felt a whoosh of air. Lord Eastbourne, his arm still poised about her waist, held her as she reached out to catch the boy.
“Charlie, lad! A brilliant job,” he said, drawing both of them to safety. He took the boy from Julia’s arms and held both of them tightly in his protective embrace.
Then all three of them were laughing and hugging and kissing each other.
Charlie kissed Julia no less than a dozen times.
She kissed him back double.
Lord Eastbourne kissed her twice, each time a short, but intensely sweet pressure against her lips, a hungry pressure.
And his eyes were bright and smiling.
In that moment, Julia felt a happiness she never thought possible.
Lord Eastbourne gave Charlie another long hug. “You’re safe now, lad. Let’s get you home.”
Charlie tried to take a step and stumbled. “I can’t walk!”
*
“I’m moving you to the Ashness Inn at daybreak,” Douglas insisted, daring Julia or Homer to object.
They were in the kitchen, finishing off the sweet buns and cocoa Julia had promised Charlie to calm him down. The boy had gorged himself, then promptly fallen asleep on Julia’s lap.
An odd scene, Douglas decided, offering to take the boy who was almost as big as Julia into his arms. “I’ll hold him,” she insisted, though her hands were shaking from a mix of fatigue and fear. Her mouth was tight at the corners and shadows still marred her beautiful eyes.
“I’ll not sleep a wink nor eat a bite ’til we’re out of this place,” Homer grumbled. “In all my years as a Bow Street runner, I’ve never seen anything so strange.” He twirled his chair around, settled his large frame upon it, then folded his arms across the back of the chair. “No bloody faerie will ever get the best of me again, mark ye.” He puffed out his chest and held his chin high. A dangerous expression sprang into his eyes. “I’ll lay that twinkle-toed scoundrel low if he dares come close to the boy again!”
Douglas picked at his light repast and noticed that Julia never touched hers. After a moment, he ordered Homer to carry the boy into the sitting room and settle him on the sofa. “Keep Charlie away from his room and those infernal faerie drawings.”
“And the bluebell garden,” Julia added. “He’s rejected King Cadeyrn. That has to be an unexpected blow to the king and his faerie court. No telling what that creature might do in anger.”
“Good riddance to him,” Homer muttered. “Never saw such goings on in m’life.”
“Nor have I, Mr. Barrow.”
Homer took the boy from Julia’s arms and carried him out.
Left alone in the kitchen with Julia, Douglas helped to wash and dry the dishes, then assisted Julia in stowing everything away. He kicked aside the stool – the one that had started all the trouble – and insisted on stacking the dishes himself, since he was tall enough to reach the shelves with hardly a stretch.
He frowned as Julia began to sweep the floor. “What are you doing? We’ll be gone in a few hours.”
“The new vicar deserves a clean house.”
Douglas thought the heartless bastard deserved the stuffing beat out of him. Julia had reached out to him for mercy and he’d shown her none. Well, that had worked in Douglas’ favor. Still, the vicar deserved none of her kindness. “He can hire local help.”
“Oh, dear,” Julia said, her eyes growing wide. “We’ll have to warn him of the faerie king, but how? He’ll never believe us.”
“Say nothing.”
“But –”
“Your father lived here for years without a problem, as I imagine did the vicars who preceded him.”
Julia nodded.
“Have any villagers been harmed over the years?”
“Not that I’m aware.” Julia thought a moment, then shook her head. “No, only Charlie.”
“And you,” Douglas added.
“Only tonight, because of my attachment to Charlie. I think he’s a sensitive, if you understand my meaning.”
“I do.”
A rooster crowed in the distance, signaling break of day.
Douglas silently prayed for a sunny day.
Julia walked to the window and peered out. “Oh, dear. It’s snowing! We’ll be trapped here for weeks if we don’t leave right away.”
“Bastard,” Douglas muttered, blaming Cadeyrn for the dismal weather, though he doubted the faerie king had power over the forces of nature.
Or did he?
Douglas shuddered.
Lord help them if he did!
“Julia, get dressed. Put on your sturdiest woolen gown and thickest boots. Gather your shawl, gloves, cap, and leave everything else behind.” He didn’t trust this place or his own sanity. “I’ll order new clothes for you as soon as we reach London.”
She tipped her head and eyed him curiously. “I thought we were going to Eastbourne.”
“We are, but I need to stop in London first. Just for a few days, long enough to order new clothes for you and Charlie. And I want to take those drawings, particularly the ones of the dragons, to a relative of mine.”
“Why?”
“I’d like him to see those drawings. I can’t say more just now, until I’m sure. It may be nothing. I’m sure it’s nothing. Ridiculous really. He knows something about the lore of dragons and might tell us something about Charlie’s… what did he call them? Dragon Lords? In any event, you and Charlie will get a new wardrobe out of it. I want him looking his best when he arrives at Eastbourne.”
“Very well. I have a thousand questions in my head, but it’s been quite a day and I don’t think I can absorb any more surprises just now.”
“Nor can I.” However, he had one more reason for proceeding to London instead of Eastbourne. He wanted Homer to investigate his solicitor, Mr. Twombly. If the solicitor had been lying to the Eastbourne family, hiring a girl to impersonate Julia, then this was Douglas’ best chance to discover the truth before anyone realized he’d found Julia and the boy.
Douglas studied Julia as they climbed the stairs together.
He had been quite proud of her performance tonight in the bell tower. But that was the problem. Despite everything, he couldn’t remove the kernel of doubt that lingered in his cynical mind. Had her tender performance been a brilliant scheme and Charlie a willing participant? Had the pair drugged his wine that first night and Homer’s wine tonight?
And how had she faked the blue, spider web patterns running up her arms and legs?
Or the tear that had frozen on her cheek?
He wanted to believe her, but couldn’t yet. He was going around in circles, like a dog driven mad chasing its own tail. For now, he had to trust his instincts, remain alert, and bide his time until the truth revealed itself.
Julia appeared lost in her own thoughts, perhaps wondering whether he could ever be trusted. Charlie had been chattering about his “secrets”, but Julia seemed too distracted to follow up on what Charlie had said earlier in the belfry. She would
come around to it eventually. He hoped it wouldn’t be too soon. He wasn’t ready to reveal that Charlie was legitimate.
They entered her bedroom. Reluctantly, he removed his hand from her slender waist, his palm still tingling though it no longer lingered at the small of her back. “I’ll help you pack a few garments, then we’ll gather Charlie’s. Sit here on the bed and point out what you need. I’ll do the lifting and carting.”
“But I –”
“Ought to enjoy ordering me about.”
She grinned. “Indeed, I shall.”
He laughed and shook his head. What Julia lacked in height and muscle, was more than made up for by her fighting spirit.
“I was frightened tonight,” she admitted, making conversation as he moved about the room putting together the few items to be taken back to Eastbourne.
“So was I.” He was warming to Julia, despite the warning bells ringing in his head. But he’d survived on his instincts for many years now and they were telling him to ignore the confusion whirling in his head and trust Julia.
Of one thing he had no doubt, she loved the boy.
His own mother, Douglas knew for a painful certainty, would never have risked her life for either of her sons. Cold, cold, cold, that’s what she and his father were. They had driven Charles away and inadvertently contributed to his untimely death.
Julia’s voice, soft and alive, drew him out of his thoughts. “Thank goodness for your level head and quick action tonight. I would have jumped into the bowels of Hell to save Charlie and King Cadeyrn knew it. I almost fell to my death and would have if you hadn’t been there to stop me. Will you scowl if I refer to you as Lord Gallant again?”
“Yes.”
“Then I won’t, except to myself. Do you think we’ll make it safely out of here?”
“We will if you stop distracting me.” He held up two of her gowns. “These should serve until we reach London.”
She nodded as he stuffed them into her little-used travel bag. “Now, my lord. Turn your back while I slip into the blue gown I wore yesterday.”
“Of course,” he said with a rasp.
Battling his lust was proving as difficult as battling an experienced military foe. Was King Cadeyrn experiencing the same urges? He almost felt sorry for the faerie king. “Mr. Barrow and I rode ahead to Borrowdale for I was impatient to finally meet my lost nephew, but my coach cannot be far behind. It will arrive shortly at the Ashness Inn, if it isn’t there already. A short rest for the horses and we’ll be off to Eastbourne.”
