“You still didn’t need my help,” Harper said.
“I did. But if it makes you feel better, let’s just call it a trial run. We work well together. There’s reason to hope we might possibly have a chance to defeat Morgaine when the time comes.” And that was the truth.
Harper looked at Ron in alarm. “What’s wrong?”
Ava felt it, too. There was a fierce surge of emotion coming from Ron.
Ron was gritting his teeth and gripping the edge of the table, bunching the cloth in his fingers. “I’m having those feelings I was telling you about in the office earlier, Harper.”
“What were you talking about?” Ava asked.
“I’m having unreasonable spikes of emotion,” Ron rasped out.
How do I help him?
“Oh,” Harper said, clearly uncomfortable. “What can I say to make this better? I’m happy you love her. I don’t want to take her away from you.”
“What’s going on?” Falke asked.
“I’m experiencing…extreme amounts of jealousy about your father being in my fiancée’s head,” Ron said, his jaw clenched.
“Beloved.” Ava felt so helpless.
Falke said, “Dad’s way older.” He paused, a horrified expression seized his face. “I just realized if Dad is Merlin, then he and Anya—who’s Ava—were together in the last life…Whoa.”
“Whoa, indeed,” Ron said, glaring at Harper.
“Merlin was also in his sixties, and Anya was in her late teens,” Harper said, looking fatigued. “Look, could we not do this? In point of fact, I’m still mourning my wife. Ava’s quite attractive, but I can’t imagine being with anyone. I’m just not emotionally up to it. I’m sorry, Ron. I can quite see how my being in her mind seems an intimacy too far. However, I didn’t find it sexually stimulating in the least. It was hard, frightening work. And I’m quite frankly terrified at the prospect of joining with her to deal with Morgaine. If I could, I’d hand this off to you in a heartbeat. You’re the bloody hero!”
Ron’s eyes went wide, and he paled. He stared down at his plate. “I’m terribly sorry, Talon,” he mumbled. “Please forgive my behavior. I promise I’ll control myself from here on.”
Harper looked at Ava and raised his brow. He asked Ava in mindspeech, What was that? I hit some sort of nerve there.
Ava shook her head fractionally and replied, I don’t know. And I don’t know how to help him over this jealousy.
Harper said aloud, “Of, course, Ron. It’s been a strange day. We’re all exhausted.”
“I propose we take the rest of the day off and relax,” Ava suggested. “Goddess knows we’ll have little enough time to ourselves after we get to Cardiff.”
“A good idea,” Harper said.
Chapter Twenty
Chessie entered, leading the maid to clear lunch.
“Aunt Chessie, is Graham still here?”
“Matter of fact, yes. He’s just finishing his lunch,” she said.
“May I speak with him?”
“Of course,” Chessie said.
Ava followed her into the kitchen where Graham was reading a paperback book over the remains of his salad.
He put the book down and stood. “There’s herself!”
Ava explained what they needed, then asked him to pick them up at Steadbye Place at 8:15.
“Excellent. I’ll fill the tank and give it a good polish,” he said.
“In the rain?”
“Well, I’ll clean it in the garage. Even in the damp, you can tell a clean car from a dirty one!” he said.
Ava thanked him and started out.
Chessie asked in mindspeech: May I tell him your purpose in going there?
Yes. Soon, most of our secrets will be out. But keep it to the pertinent whos and whats. Save the story of our family until he comes home.
Will do, dear. Good luck!
Ava went back into the dining room. Ron was still there, all alone and staring off into space. “Are you all right, beloved?”
His smile was thin. “I’ve just made a terrific ass of myself. Other than that…”
Ava put her arms around his shoulders. “Why don’t we go home and get some rest?”
Briefly, he leaned his head against her arm. “I like that you said ‘Let’s go home,’ not ‘to your house.’”
Ron drove slowly and carefully back. The rain had changed to a fine mist. Fog hung over the road in dense patches. He held Ava’s hand, but he was avoiding her eyes. They drove for a time in silence. After a while Ron said, “I had a dream about us last night.”
“Oh? Dreams are very important to me. What was it about?”
“We were just talking. I was limping for some reason and leaned on a cane or walking stick. I was really interested in what you were saying, but I can’t recall exactly what it was about. And then I realized we were walking down a stone hallway, with rush torches instead of lights.” He parked the car in the garage and turned to her. “Ava, did I see us in the past life?”
She put two fingers to just above the right side of the nape of his neck and closed her eyes, concentrating. She could just make out the afterimage of the dream. The man with her didn’t look like Ron—he had brown hair and a beard, and a rather burly build. But he felt oh-so-familiar. “Yes. You’ve had a true dream of our past life, beloved.”
He kissed her. “I’ve always loved you.”
They went into the house. “What do you want to do with the rest of the day?” he asked.
“I’ve only seen a few rooms and the cellar. Would you give me a tour of Steadbye Place?”
“I’d love to,” he said, and she felt the brooding that had been stalking him lift. “You know, we haven’t talked about, well, children.”
“Been thinking about that today?”
“Well, yes,” he admitted. “I had a long while to sit and think on the ride back from the witches’ place. I was imagining our life after whatever the hell we’re going to do. Marriage. Kids.”
“I’d like two.” She could feel a clear Yes in her heart. She had said a true thing. But did that mean they would survive what was to come?
The Goddess said nothing.
“‘An heir and a spare’? That would be nice,” he said, grinning.
“Were you worried I was going to say seven?”
“A bit, yes,” he said. “Or none. Or one. As an only child, the number of kids in families has always been an interest of mine.”
“Did you feel terribly lonely?”
He nodded. “I did, some.”
“I suppose it’s just human nature to want what you don’t have.”
“But, two would be perfect, I think,” he said.
“An easy decision, then.” An heir for the royal line and hopefully, a child for the Goddess.
Before they could go anywhere, a grizzled older man with a bent back and bowed legs came in. Despite his limp and age, he radiated a peculiar fierce strength. Ava got the oddest feeling from him. “Ah, there you are, my lord.” There was just the faintest hint of a smile when he looked at her. “Are you intending to have dinner here tonight?”
“Yes, please, Hofhurst,” Ron said. “And beg the cook for anything with red meat in. For some reason, I’m starved for beef or rabbit or…well, meat.”
“’Course, sir,” Hofhurst said in his gravelly voice.
“We’ll be leaving tomorrow morning—around eight—for Cardiff. I’ll need to pack some things. I’m not too sure how long we’ll be there.”
“I’ll sort that immediately, my lord.”
Ron said, “And make sure my black pinstripe is wearable, would you? I can’t recall the last time I put it on, but I’ll need to wear it tomorrow.”
“As you wish, sir,” Hofhurst said.
“Could I borrow an iron or steamer? I’m afraid the dress I’d like to wear is in no fit state.”
“Please leave it out, ma’am, and I’ll have it taken care of,” Hofhurst said.
Ava was about to object that
she could do it herself, when she caught Ron’s look. He didn’t have to say what he was thinking. If she married him, she would be a lady and a queen; neither irons her own dress. This isn’t anything I was prepared for! The whole line of thinking amused her. “Thank you Hofhurst. I’ll do that. I appreciate it.”
“Not at all, ma’am,” he said with a short bow. “Dinner at the usual time, my lord?”
“If it can be managed at all, would you ask chef to aim for six-ish? We’ve been up since two, and I’m afraid my stomach is quite confused,” Ron said.
Hofhurst nodded and headed for the kitchen.
Ron led Ava into a very masculine sitting room that featured paintings of fox hunts and prized cattle of long ago. The furniture was dark and well-used. All the seating was black leather. A bright red Oriental rug was the only real spot of color. The place positively reeked of old cigars.
“My father’s favorite room,” Ron said. “My mother hated it. Can’t say I care for it, either.”
Ava was still thinking about the butler. “How long has Hofhurst been with your family?”
Ron looked at her curiously. “He served with my father in Afghanistan. He was my dad’s sergeant. Their truck ran over an IED—a kind of home-made bomb—and they were almost killed. Somehow, though, Hofhurst managed to save Dad. Why?”
“Ron, he’s Sir Kay, King Arthur’s foster brother and Camelot’s seneschal!” Ava just knew she was right. She could feel it clearly.
Ron laughed, but stopped when he saw her serious expression. “Just when I think I’m getting a handle on the weirdness that is my life…”
“I just realized last night during that phone call that Ifijioku, my old teacher who’s now my chief advisor, was my teacher and advisor in my last life. And apparently she knew it all along!”
“Wild,” Ron said, shaking his head. He held out his hand and took her down the hallway. He opened a glass door and said, “This was my mother’s favorite place in the whole house. I’ve been wanting to show it to you.”
Ava walked into a Victorian-era conservatory with a conical glass roof and scrolled black iron-work framing all the windows. Despite the dark, rainy day outside, it was a plant-filled wonder in the conservatory. Wicker furniture with brightly colored cushions was placed around the room in perfect alignment to catch the light and the view of the flora. There were gorgeous gardenias, bougainvillea, roses, violets, orchids—and even a Persian lilac. Every one of them was blooming, and the smell was intense. The plants emitted a greenish-blue aura, and Ava felt them welcome her, as if she had been expected.
“Oh, Ron! It’s the most beautiful room I’ve ever been in.”
“All these plants started flowering two days ago. I sort of took it as my mother’s blessing.” He took her in his arms. “This is yours now, my love.”
Ava had the strongest feeling that through the flowers, she was being embraced by Ron’s mother. By making the plants bloom, she had sent her acceptance and approval of their union.
After the house tour, they had dinner. Ron adored the steak and kidney pie, but Ava didn’t care for it. She watched him attack the food as if he were starving. It didn’t take much prompting to get him to eat the rest of hers, either.
Later, she asked if he’d mind if she snuck in a bath before they went to bed. The big, old-fashioned tub in his bathroom had been beckoning to her, and she craved a soak. She was also in need of some alone time. He helped her find some candles and went off to the library. Grateful, she poured herself a hot bath, turned off her mental journal, and slipped in with a sigh. She let her mind go quiet and calm.
She had reached a major turning point and needed to understand it. Maybe, just maybe, I can figure out how to cope with my emotional issues well enough to fight Morgaine. And afterward, be of use to Ron and Britain. But, I need to come to terms with what’s going on.
If Ava was understanding correctly, she needed to let herself go through the grief process she had ignored before. That was the root of her trouble. Exactly when she could make the time to do that was uncertain. She could feel the impending date with Morgaine coming at her like a bullet train.
So she really couldn’t take the downtime. And she was unsure how mourning a dead ex-lover was going to sit with Ron, given his jealousy thing.
And what the hell is that, anyway?
So, maybe there was a half-step that she could allow herself to feel that pain and to acknowledge that was where her fear and anxiety came from. But also, she had the strength to deal with the inner turmoil.
Not always. I had moments today where I felt like my old self and moments where I felt like the same fear-ridden wretch I’ve become. I’m really tired of being that anxious person. I want to be strong-me. I want that very much.
Ava decided that a positive step was to focus some anger where it belonged. Morgaine had killed Helmut to destroy her. Morgaine almost succeeded using her Hela women. Morgaine would try directly soon.
Damned if I’ll let her!
A stray thought occurred to her, and she realized with a start that the creepy dream where someone was surrounding her, mocking her, threatening her…was Morgaine.
Ava wondered what really happened between them. It wasn’t in the book. Maybe if they all lived through the Healing, she could work with a past life regression therapist. But who had the time?
There was a tap at the bathroom door. Ron came in, looking sheepish for bothering her. “You haven’t drowned, have you?”
“Um, no.” Ava was a little put out that she couldn’t have some private time.
“It’s been an hour,” he said.
It was hard to be mad at him when he was kissing her like that. She pulled the plug on the water.
“I didn’t mean to make you end your bath,” he said.
“Well, I’m either getting out, or you’re getting in. If you’re getting in, I need to let some water out, or we’ll swamp the floor.”
He quickly pulled off his clothes and got into the tub. “Wow, that’s hot!”
Even though Ava had let a lot of water out, the level was dangerously high. At first, they were careful not to make too many sudden moves. But as they became more passionate, the water started to slop over the edge.
“Wait!” Ava said, getting a sudden case of the giggles. “Slow down until we let some more water out!”
But he simply flipped her on top of him, tossing a wave onto the tile floor.
“Naughty thing!” she admonished him. And then he was inside her and the wave motion was adding to the way he was touching her…and who cared about a mess?
A long time later, Ava reached over and put the plug back in, running enough water to make it more comfortable.
“Too much or too little,” he said, pulling her back down.
Even though she was all pruney, she didn’t want to get out of the tub. It felt so perfect lying beside him in the warm water, as if they were floating in space.
It started with a whisper.
Ava strained to understand.
Slowly, the sound built up. It was a chant of some sort. She could just barely hear it. Her brain struggled to make sense of the words. It sounded like Brittonic. But no. It was more ancient than that.
What were they saying?
The words seemed to swirl around her, like a ribbon of sound, winding about her, from legs to head.
Clearer now, the chant almost coalesced in her mind. There was definitely malice in it.
Ava broke free of the spell. She said in Brittonic as loudly in mindspeech as she could:
I name thee, Morgaine the Betrayer! You cannot control me. I break your hold over me. I banish you from my mind, as I will banish you from Britain!
There was a terrible cackling in her mind. We shall see, Priestess. Yes, we shall see.
Chapter Twenty-One
Three Days to Midsummer
The stately Rolls motored down the tree-lined drive to Drunemeton House. Ava couldn’t stop staring at Ron.
“Wh
at?” he asked with a chuckle.
“You look so wonderful, I just can’t keep my eyes off you.”
He kissed her fingertips and smiled at her in a way that made her knees weak. It wasn’t that he didn’t look handsome in his carefully selected clothes on a daily basis. It was just that he looked every bit the Earl of Steadbye—and the future King of Britain—in his perfectly tailored black pinstripe suit. He had changed the waistcoat and pocket swatch when he saw Ava in her dress—a green silk Dupioni wrap. His elegant, hand-embroidered vest depicted an orange dragon in a forest. Ava was sure whoever got it for him didn’t know the orange dragon was the symbol of the Pendragons, and therefore, Ron himself. The pocket swatch was a deep green that matched both the backgrounds of the vest and her dress. His tie was a very formal black with an embossed black vine pattern.
“You look pretty delicious yourself,” he whispered. He traced the star pattern on her knee. “Those hose are about to drive me wild. We are definitely doing the undressing slowly thing tonight.” Very delicately, he kissed her, so as not to muss her make-up.
When they arrived at Drunemeton’s forecourt, there was a small mover’s lorry in front. Three burly men sat in the cab staring at the Rolls through the steady rain.
Harper came out, dressed in a nice blue suit, under a large black umbrella. He stepped over to talk to the movers. Whatever he said made them laugh.
He went over to the car as Ron was handing Ava out. Graham stood by, holding a large umbrella over them.
“My, don’t you two look nice,” Harper said, giving Ava an appraising look.
Just then, Falke came thundering out with his rucksack. Both his jacket and pants were a tad short on him, but he looked presentable enough. “He’s been dying to ride in the Rolls,” Harper said.
“You can flip down a seat there,” Ron pointed out when the boy joined them.
“Brilliant!” he exclaimed, and clambered in.
A line of people emerged from the house carrying the boxes they brought up from the Grotto the other day. With Graham’s help, the relics were all stored in the Rolls’ capacious boot.
The Midsummer Wife Page 18
