An Earl In Time

by Ruth Ann Nordin

  A jolt went through Willow, causing her to jerk back. Julian jerked back, too. Thankfully, they managed to keep holding hands, or else the fairy’s magic might have been rendered ineffective.

  A green glow lifted the three pieces into the air.

  Willow watched in amazement as more parchment began to form around the pieces. As the parchment spread out into a complete missive, words formed on it. Once the process was complete, the missive fell softly into the palm of Julian’s hand and rolled up on its own right before a seal appeared on it. The green glow surrounding it disappeared.

  Willow’s gaze went to the fairy, and the fairy looked at them expectantly.

  Julian cleared his throat and turned his attention to the seal. “I don’t recognize who this is from. A seal designates the sender,” he told Willow and the fairy.

  “You said you didn’t know who sent it when you first received it,” Willow reminded him.

  “That’s correct. I didn’t.” He studied it. “There’s only an R overlapping a V on it. That doesn’t give me much to go by.”

  “Well, let’s read what it says.”

  “I need both hands for this.”

  With a nod, Willow let go of his hand. The colors and fairy disappeared. He hurried to break the seal and unrolled the missive.

  Unsure of whether the fairy could see or hear them when they couldn’t see her, Willow touched his arm. At once, the colors and fairy returned.

  “It’s addressed to me,” Julian said. “That part I do remember.” He cleared his throat. “This is what it says. ‘A year before you were born, your father killed your uncle in a duel. That uncle was his older brother, and that brother was about to marry me. I conceived a son before your uncle died, but because of your father, the child could not be the heir. Instead, you are. Know this, Julian Azazel: your uncle’s death doesn’t mean you’re safe. I will be coming for you. When the clock chimes midnight, you will be bound to the same day until the requirements of my curse are satisfied. Then, and only then, will time move forward for you again.’”

  Willow waited for Julian to continue so that they would all understand why she was going to come for him, but he only put the missive down and said, “That’s all there is.”

  “There’s not much to learn from it,” Willow said in disappointment.

  “No, there isn’t, but it explains a bit about why my mother said the duel was foolish. My father killed his own brother,” Julian whispered.

  “Do you think your father killed him to get the title?”

  “My father didn’t seem like that kind of person. He once said the title was a hard responsibility to bear.”

  Willow had to admit that didn’t sound like someone who would murder his brother in order to be the earl of this estate. She turned her gaze to the fairy. “Do you know what happened to the child?”

  The fairy nodded and gave a gesture that indicated the child was dead.

  “It wouldn’t have mattered if the child lived or not,” Julian said. “She never married my uncle. That means the child was a bastard. He’d have no right to the title even if he had lived.”

  In that case, she supposed the fate of the child didn’t matter, though it was sad the child died. She forced her attention back to the missive. “Who wrote it? Did she leave her name?”

  Julian squinted. “There’s not a name. It’s a drawing. And if I’m interpreting it right, it looks like a flower.”

  “A flower?”

  He showed it to her. “It has to be a flower.”

  Willow studied it. Depending on how she looked at it, it could be one or two flowers. “Wait a minute. I’ve seen this before.” She took the letter from him and struggled to bring up the memory she was reaching for. After a minute, she recalled a tattoo of a rose and a violet. She gasped. “I saw this on Violet. It was above her wrist. She said it went with her name.” And if there were two flowers and one looked like a violet, then it was possible that she also went by the name of another familiar flower—one that was pink. “Is the name Rose familiar to you?” she asked Julian.

  The fairy let out a high-pitch wail that was so sharp that it made Willow put her hands over her ears. Julian did the same, and the broken seal and letter fell to the floor of the gazebo. At once, that horrifying sound and the colors of magic vanished.

  Willow waited until her heart wasn’t beating so fast before she lowered her hands. “I think it’s safe to say the fairy knows who Rose is.”

  Julian lowered his hands and nodded. “I would say so. My heart feels like it’s going to leap right out of my chest.”

  “Mine, too.” She took a deep breath and put her hands on her knees. She wasn’t ready to touch him yet. As soon as she did, that fairy would return, and who knew if she would still be screaming?

  Julian seemed to be in no hurry for the awful sound to return, either, since he didn’t make a move to touch her. He waited until he was no longer out of breath before saying, “The only name that’s familiar to me is Violet, and that’s only because you mentioned her.”

  “Your mother and father never mentioned anyone named Rose?”

  “No. They rarely ever discussed the past. It was like they wanted to forget it.” He paused as he picked up the parchment and pieces of the seal. “Maybe it was too painful for them to remember what happened. I know my father was aloof. He seemed as if he had withdrawn into himself. He tried to be a part of things. He made the effort to engage with me and my mother, but it always seemed like there was something tormenting him.”

  “I think killing one’s brother would do that to anyone.”

  “After everything I learned from my grandfather’s journals and those books, I think it was more than the duel that haunted him. He probably knew why my grandfather kept looking for a fairy. It’s a shame he never said anything to me about it. I feel like we’re at a disadvantage. This person named Violet or Rose knows about us, but we know so little about her.”

  “At least your father saved the journals and books. That’s better than nothing.”

  He looked down at the missive and reread it. “I wish I could make more sense out of this. Maybe she feels like she deserved to be the countess of the estate since she was going to marry my uncle.”

  “But what good would that do? Aren’t gentlemen the only ones who benefit from a title?” Up to now, that was the impression she’d gotten.

  “Well, yes, they get more from a title, but a lady who marries a titled gentleman benefits socially. She also gets to be the mother of an heir if she has a son. If the titled gentleman is wealthy, she gets access to his money.”

  “That’s not much different from marriage to any rich man, except for being able to say you’re a countess, I guess.” Willow glanced at the spot where she knew the fairy to be. “I want to make sure Violet and Rose are one and the same. Are you ready to touch again?”

  He rolled up the missive and slipped it and the broken seal into his pocket. Then he held his hand out to her. “I’m ready.”

  After bracing herself for what would happen next, Willow took Julian’s hand. Thankfully, the fairy had stopped screaming. Willow tentatively turned her gaze to the fairy, who was watching them from the cage. Though she was quiet, Willow caught the look of anger on the fairy’s face.

  No. The fairy wasn’t angry. She was furious. She hated the lady who had written that missive.

  “Please don’t be upset with the next question,” Willow said. “But we need to make sure we’re dealing with the same person. Is Violet also Rose?”

  The fairy nodded and then closed her eyes. Green light sparked from the cage, and the fairy’s expression grew tense, as if she was concentrating on something. The cage rattled. Willow moved closer to Julian, and he drew her into his arms. She clung to him and got ready for whatever was going to happen next.

  The green light sparked faster and faster around the cage until it shot out from the cage and struck Willow with such force that she and Julian flew across the gazebo. They came t
o an abrupt stop just before landing into one of the benches.

  All at once, Willow felt the fairy’s despair and longing to return to Ireland where she could be with her clan. The Faerie Ó Loinsigh Sept, as the fairy thought of it. In Willow’s mind, she saw a twenty-year-old version of Violet. Violet had been pretty in her forties, but she had been much more so at twenty. Willow suspected that many gentlemen had fallen in love with her beauty.

  In the fairy’s memory, Willow saw Violet holding a pot filled with gold coins. The leprechaun standing next to Violet caught the green fairy and forced her into the iron cage. Violet gave the leprechaun the pot of gold. He, in turn, gave her the caged fairy and then handed Violet the fairy’s wand.

  The memory faded, and Willow and Julian collapsed against each other. The fairy also collapsed, but unlike Willow and Julian, the fairy fell into unconsciousness. At first, Willow thought the poor fairy was dead, but, thankfully, the fairy was still breathing.

  “Did you see the memory the fairy gave me?” Willow asked Julian, still shaken up by what had just happened.

  “Did it involve a leprechaun and some gold?” Julian’s voice was so soft she barely heard it.

  “Yes.” So he had seen it. It must have been the fact that they were holding each other that had allowed the memory to go to both of them.

  “Leprechauns like gold,” Willow said as she thought over the way the poor fairy had been trapped. “Gold has been known to attract them. Violet must have known this and used it to make a deal with the leprechaun. In exchange for gold, he gave her that fairy. The fairy must be doing her bidding.”

  “Yes, but she’s doing it under compulsion. She doesn’t want to be here.”

  “The animals in the barn didn’t want to do her bidding, either.”

  “I might not know the details of the duel, but I’m beginning to think my father had a good reason for stopping my uncle from marrying this lady who goes by two names.” He stood up then helped Willow to her feet. “I wonder if he knew about this fairy.”

  “It’s possible Violet didn’t bring the fairy here until later. She found a way to give you the missive. Obviously, she was here after your uncle’s death.”

  He grimaced but didn’t argue with her.

  They glanced at the fairy, who was still unconscious.

  “I hope we didn’t hurt her,” Julian said.

  Willow thought over what she had read. “Fairies live a very long time. There doesn’t seem to be any set number of years they live, but it’s not uncommon for a fairy to live anywhere from 1000 to 1500 years. They don’t get sick like you and I do. I think communicating with us while in that cage wore her out. The iron has weakened her, but she’ll recover without any harm. We should give her a break. I doubt she knows much more than what she’s shared with us.” And Willow had seen the poor creature suffer enough for one day.

  He put his arm around her shoulders, and they left the gazebo together in silence.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  To Julian’s relief, the vicar and footman arrived thirty minutes before dinner. All of his fears about the world not existing beyond the property had been for nothing. It was still there. And that meant the coachman had reached London and given Francis his missive. Julian hadn’t unknowingly doomed the footman or coachman to obscurity by making them leave this place. Now the feeling of dread that had been plaguing him could finally be put to rest.

  Once he saw to it that the vicar’s room was ready for his stay for the night, Julian, Willow, and the vicar went to the dining room.

  “It seems like I was just here,” the vicar said after they sat at the table. He glanced at Willow. “I presided over his father’s funeral.”

  In Julian’s mind, that funeral had happened so long ago that he hadn’t considered how short ago it must seem to the vicar. Julian hadn’t mentioned Willow to him at the funeral, and suddenly, he was asking the vicar to preside over their marriage.

  Julian set down his glass of wine and directed his attention to the old gentleman. “Willow was unable to come here for the funeral. She came here shortly before I asked the footman to get you.”

  Julian was sure the vicar wondered why there was no chaperone to see to Willow’s virtue, but he probably chose to let the matter go since he said, “It’s common for couples to marry in the morning, but I’ll be happy to preside over the wedding after dinner.”

  “I have a specific gown I’d like to wear for the ceremony,” Willow told the vicar. “It shouldn’t take me long to get ready.”

  The vicar smiled at her. “I don’t mind waiting while a bride gets ready for her wedding. It’s a special occasion, and it only happens once in a lifetime. A lady has the right to take as long as she wants for something this important.” He winked at Julian. “She’s already beautiful. We won’t be waiting long.”

  “No, we won’t,” Julian agreed before smiling at Willow who blushed.

  The butler set out the soup, and they began to eat.

  “I’m glad to be here for a happy occasion,” the vicar said. “Funerals are always terrible. I’ve been a vicar for forty-six years, and they don’t get any easier. Yes, you know the person is in a better place, but there are the people they leave behind. That’s who you feel sorry for. There’s nothing you can do to ease their pain. I think your bride will bring you comfort.”

  Julian wasn’t sure how to respond to that. He’d had two centuries to get over the death of his father, and a little more time than that to get over the death of his mother.

  “I married your parents in this manor,” the vicar continued.

  Julian dipped his spoon into the soup and asked, “How was their wedding?”

  “It was lovely,” the vicar replied. “Your grandfather missed it. He wanted to be here, but something important drew him to another country. I believe it was Ireland. He seemed to go there a lot.”

  “Yes, he did,” Julian said. “My grandfather even kept books about Irish myths and legends.”

  The vicar chuckled. “I forgot about those. Your grandmother used to get exasperated with all of his reading. ‘All he does is run off to his library to read,’ she’d tell me when I saw her.” He chuckled. “I still remember the way she rolled her eyes and shook her head. I would tell her it’s good for a gentleman to have a hobby. If gentlemen don’t do something useful with their time, they grow restless. Idleness is the devil’s playground.” He stopped talking and glanced at Willow. “Pardon me, my dear. I didn’t mean to exclude you from the conversation. Where did you come from?”

  Julian’s eyes grew wide, and he noted the flicker of panic on Willow’s face. “She came from London,” Julian said for her. “That’s where we met. We were at a ball. I asked her to dance, and things just progressed from there.” Knowing he had to explain why she was here, he hurried to add, “We were betrothed. We were about to read the banns when I got word about my father’s death.” He paused. How could he word things in a way that would be the least suspicious to the vicar? “I asked her to come out here to marry me when I realized I had a lot to tend to here at this estate.”

  The vicar looked at Willow, and she offered him a smile that indicated she hoped the vicar would believe the story.

  Julian didn’t know what else they could say. The more he said, the more he might complicate things. The vicar would never believe the truth. Curses, portals between times, and fairies. It was beyond the realm of believability. He’d rather have the vicar think that he and Willow were in a rush to marry because she was expecting a child than go into what had really brought them together. He was sure the vicar was thinking she was with child despite the fact that he was too polite to come out and say it. At least this way, the vicar wouldn’t be tempted to haul him and Willow off to an asylum.

  Hoping to turn the conversation in another direction, Julian asked the vicar, “Has anything new happened since you were here?”

  “As a matter of fact, yes,” the vicar replied. “You remember the situation I told you about r
egarding Lady Whitfield?”

  No, he didn’t, but that conversation had occurred so long ago. “How is she doing?” he decided to ask.

  “Much better, thank goodness. It turned out the rash was nothing to worry about.”

  The vicar went on to talk about her, and from there, Julian managed to keep him talking about other people he hadn’t given any thought to for a very long time. It was to his benefit the vicar happened to be longwinded in his answers.

  From time to time, Julian noticed the way Willow’s eyes drooped, but she managed to stay awake. Julian felt the exhaustion catching up to him as well. They had gotten little sleep since she stepped into this time. Not that he minded. When he was awake, he had the pleasure of knowing she was still here. Twice since her arrival, he’d had nightmares where he was, once more, all alone in this place.

  Those few first moments after he woke up filled him with such terror that he could hardly breathe. When he realized he was in a new day, the relief he experienced was so strong that his strength departed him for a good five minutes. He didn’t know what he would do if he lost her.

  Just thinking of it gave him a chill. He forced those nightmares from his mind. The exhaustion departed from him, and he was, once more, glad to be awake. If it was up to him, he’d never sleep again.

  He looked in Willow’s direction, just to make sure she was still here. As if sensing that he was watching her, her gaze went to him. He smiled at her, and she offered a smile in return. The wedding would unite them together for the rest of their lives. He couldn’t wait.

  He turned his attention back to what the vicar was saying and hurried to finish his meal.

  ***

  Willow woke from her slumber to someone leaving butterfly kisses from her shoulder down to her arm. She was lying on her side, and her back was to Julian. She didn’t recall drifting off to sleep after she and Julian consummated the marriage. The last thing she recalled was resting with her head on his shoulder as he brushed his hand up and down her back in gentle motions.