A few minutes later, Charlie was staring at her reflection in the mirror, mesmerized by what she saw. The dress glimmered magically in the sunlight from the window, like something out of a fairy tale. Made from iridescent white silk with delicate strands of shimmering gold and silver woven into the fabric, the dress was unlike anything she’d ever seen.
“Does it fit?” Margaret called through the door, then slowly opened it and peeked inside.
Charlie turned to face her. “It’s incredible,” she said, then looked into the mirror again. “But I still don’t think I should wear it.”
Margaret slipped up behind her and quickly put all the hooks and buttons into place, snugging up the bodice and pressing her breasts together. Suddenly, she had far more cleavage than she was used to, but Margaret was making excited sounds as she draped a translucent silver shawl over her shoulders, then threaded her middle fingers through the loops at the ends.
“This dress was made for you,” Margaret said, reaching up and unfastening her hair, letting it tumble over her shoulders.
Charlie stared at herself in the mirror, transformed suddenly into someone else: a woman who would make men stare and women glare. She wasn’t quite comfortable with the idea. “Umm, maybe this is a little too, I don’t know, revealing,” she said, looking down at her nearly exposed breasts.
“Oh, honey, you are going to fit in perfectly,” Margaret said. “Back then, people were a little more open about, well, things; you’re in for a bit of a shock, I’m afraid.”
Charlie didn’t like the sound of that. “What does that mean exactly?” she asked, her stomach suddenly full of knots.
“Well, just let me say this; love is one of the greatest powers on Earth, and the Medieval Ball is one of the ways we celebrate that. It generates power for the protection ceremony at the festival and is one of the most important tools we have,” Margaret said, then turned Charlie around to face her. “Just remember that no matter what path you chose, as long as there’s love, you’ve made the right choice. It took me almost a lifetime to learn that lesson; don’t make the same mistake I did and chose duty over what’s in your heart.”
Chapter Sixteen
***Vincent***
“Okay, let me get this straight,” Adam said, a shocked look on his face. “You want to borrow my oldest carriage, and a pair of my best horses to take Charlie to the ball, and you’re planning on driving the carriage yourself.”
“That about covers it,” Vincent said. “I’m sure I can learn to drive a carriage; it can’t be that hard, and you owe me.”
Adam looked at him suspiciously. “What are you up to?” he asked, then held his hands up. “No, don’t answer that. I don’t want to know.”
Vincent shrugged. “You said you didn’t want to have to lie to Molly. This way, you can still help me, and there’s no lying.”
“Fine, you win, but I hope you know what you’re doing,” Adam said. “You’re messing with something stronger than you are, an instinct that can’t be denied once it’s awoken; there won’t be any going back for either of you.”
He understood what Adam was saying, knew that he was taking a risk, but deep down, the sense of urgency was driving him on. “I never understood what drove you to lie to Molly the way you did, but I think I understand now,” he said. “She’s the one, Adam, and I can’t wait to make it permanent.”
Adam laughed. “I know exactly what that feels like,” he said. “Okay, no more talking about things I didn’t want to know about; it’s time for a crash course in horsemanship.”
Vincent had just made his third and final solo lap around the farmhouse when a car pulled in off the main road, and he nearly ran the carriage into a fence. His mother was out of the car before he could bring the carriage to a full stop, waving her arms at him and calling his name. Adam came down off the porch and took the reins from him when he finally came to a lurching stop and held the horses while he jumped down.
“What in heaven’s name are you doing?” his mother asked, her face full of concern.
He was so surprised to see her that it took him a minute to answer. “I’m learning to drive a carriage,” he finally answered. “What are you doing here?”
“Your mother is convinced that there’s something going on that she should be a part of,” his father said, joining them in the yard. “Don’t ask her to explain; she doesn’t have an explanation.”
“I have a perfectly good explanation,” his mother huffed. “Several phone calls and a mother’s intuition.”
“Phone calls?” Vincent asked.
“Yes, first a very strange one from Margaret two days ago, and then Janice called me yesterday, rambling on about you falling for the wrong woman,” his mother said. “I think that should be enough to warrant coming home.”
Vincent sighed. “Mother, you shouldn’t have come all this way. Everything is fine,” he said. “I’m not falling for the wrong woman. You know how Janice is. She doesn’t know Charlie.”
“Charlie?” his father asked. “Are you talking about the demon hunter the council sent you?”
“Yes, that who I’m talking about,” he said. “There’s no big emergency.”
“See, I told you,” his father said. “We drove all this way for nothing.”
His mother studied him. “Oh, I don’t think it was for nothing,” she said, a big grin spreading across her face. “When do I get to meet her?”
“Mother,” he moaned, “now isn’t the time okay. Things are a little complicated between us right now. Charlie wants to be a guardian, and I haven’t been able to change her mind. She made a promise to her father, and she’s determined to keep it.”
“A woman guardian,” his father said. “I don’t know if it will ever happen, but Charlie McKensey might just be the one to do it.”
Vincent turned to his father. “You know her?”
“No, I know her father, a fine guardian in his day, but I had heard that his portal closed up completely,” his father said. “I knew he had a daughter, but I didn’t put it together until now.”
“Well, I’m taking her to the ball, so I’d better get moving,” he said, not wanting to discuss it any further. “I’ll see you back at the house.”
He took the reins from Adam and led the horses back to the barn to unhitch them, pretending not to hear the quiet conversation going on in his wake and ignoring the little voice in his head kept asking if he was making a mistake. When he came back from the barn, his parents were gone, and Adam was waiting for him on the porch, Molly rocking next to him.
“I’ll be back later for the carriage,” he called, waving at them, then jumping in his truck before Adam could get up.
Adam shook his head but let him drive away, probably wishing he’d never agreed to help him, but the wheels were already firmly in motion. His plan coming together just as he’d imagined and while his parents showing up unannounced might prove to be a bit of a problem, it was nothing that he couldn’t handle. Smiling as he drove away, he let his mind wander to the night ahead and realized that he hadn’t looked forward to anything as much in his entire life.
***Charlie***
Charlie stood looking at the dress, not sure if she had the confidence to put it on, then ran her hands over the soft silk and carefully took it down from the hanger. Margaret was waiting just outside the door, ready to use her still nimble fingers to do up the buttons and hooks down her back. She wondered if it was a mistake to wear a dress that she couldn’t get out of by herself, but the door creaked open, and she pushed the thought away.
“Back when women wore clothes with all these buttons and hooks, they had servants to help them dress,” Margaret said. “Hold your breath for a second.”
Charlie sucked in a deep breath, feeling her head swim a little. “Okay, let it out, and try to relax. You look fantastic,” Margaret said, adjusting the dress from the back. “There, now let’s fix your hair and then I’ll put on the wrap.”
She was just sliding the last
loop on Charlie’s finger when there was a loud knock on the door, and she jumped. “Oh, he’s here,” she said, looking up at the clock. “And he’s early. I don’t have my shoes on yet.”
“I’ll answer the door; you run and put your shoes on,” Margaret said, giving her a gentle shove toward the bedroom.
The shoes were nothing more than a pair of white slippers, and she slipped them on quickly, her heart pounding in her chest, her stomach full of butterflies. But when she came out of the bedroom, it wasn’t Vincent’s voice she heard: it was her father’s. She stopped midstride, listening to him demand to see her.
“I want to see Charlie; isn’t this her cabin?” he demanded. “We’ve come a long way.”
“Charlie will be right here,” she heard Margaret say. “I’m Margaret Anderson.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Margaret,” she heard her mother say. “I’m Josie, and this is my husband Roger, we’re Charlie’s parents.”
“Oh,” she heard Margaret exclaim, then a short silence. “Charlie is just putting on her shoes. She should be right here.”
Knowing she had no choice but to face her parents, she lifted her chin and strode into the living room. “Mom, Dad, what are you doing here?” she asked, faking surprise.
Her parents stared at her open-mouthed for a moment, then her father narrowed his eyes at her. “What are you wearing?” he asked.
Charlie tried not to cower at the tone in her father’s voice. “It a dress for the ball tonight,” she said.
“Oh, honey, you look so beautiful,” her mother said, tears in her eyes. “What an incredible dress.”
“It’s Margaret’s,” Charlie said, smiling over at her. “She was kind enough to let me borrow it.”
“Well, take it off,” her father ordered. “You’re not going anywhere dressed like that, it’s...ridiculous.”
Charlie could only stare at him in shock, but he wasn’t finished; he turned to her mother and said, “See, Josie, I told you we needed to come. Look at her: she’s made a big mess of her chance to be a guardian. No one on the council is going to take her seriously if she does things like this. I’ll have to find a way to sort this out.”
“Now, Roger, I don’t see anything wrong with the dress or her going to a ball,” her mother said, but her father shook his head, a stubborn look on his face.
“Charlie, go change,” he ordered again. “We’ve worked too hard to get where we are for this kind of silliness.”
“Excuse me,” Margaret said, “but this isn’t silliness; it’s a very old tradition that is very important to the town.”
“Humph,” her father said, looking at Margaret. “Charlie should be hunting demons, not parading around like that.”
She’d reached the end of her patience. “Dad, I think you and Mom should go now. My date is going to be here in a few minutes,” she said.
Her father stared at her in shock, then said, “You are not going.”
“I am going,” she said, then paused. “I’m a grown woman, Dad, capable of making my own decisions. You haven’t been here; you don’t understand how important this is to the town or anything about what’s been going on around here. I would be happy to explain it to you another time, but right now, I need you to leave.”
She felt bad as soon as the words were out of her mouth, but wasn’t sorry she’d said them, even when her father turned and walked out the door without another word. “I’m sorry you had to see that,” her mother said to Margaret, “but I think Roger just needs some time to cool down.”
“That’s okay,” Margaret said, “but I really must be going.”
“It was nice to meet you,” her mother said.
When Margaret was gone, her mother looked at her again, a smile on her face. “Honey, you really do look beautiful. I’m sorry about your dad. I think he just realized that you’re a woman,” she said. “He’s been so focused on making you a guardian, I think he lost sight of the truth.”
Charlie didn’t know what to say; her father’s words had hurt, and his casual dismissal of what she wanted stung. “I’m not doing anything wrong,” she finally said.
“No, sweetheart, you aren’t,” her mother said. “It’s about time you thought about something besides hunting demons. Go to the ball and have fun. I’ll handle your father.”
She hugged her mother. “Thanks, Mom.”
Chapter Seventeen
***Vincent***
Vincent pulled the horses to a stop, jumped down from the carriage, and climbed the steps, the weight of what he was about to do heavy on his shoulders. But deep inside, the force that had been driving him sprang to life and he knocked on the door, ready to take the next step. When Charlie opened the door and he saw her, all his doubts drained away, replaced with the knowledge that Charlie belonged to him.
Their eyes met, and the passion between them sprang to life. “You look beautiful,” he said. “Like a princess in a fairy tale.”
Charlie beamed up at him. “Funny you should say that; that’s exactly how I feel,” she said. “And now, my handsome prince has come to collect me.”
“Your carriage awaits,” he said, bowing to her.
She laughed and stepped out the door, then gasped when she saw the carriage. “I was only kidding, Vincent,” she said, looking up at him with excitement. “Where did it come from?”
“It’s Adam’s,” he said. “I spent the entire morning learning how to drive it.”
“Thank you,” she said, letting him help her in. “That’s the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me.”
“I like doing nice things for you, Charlie,” he said, meeting her eyes.
She looked away first, but not before he felt the connection between them strengthen. Trying not grin like an idiot, he covered her with a fur lap rug, then placed a lined cloak around her shoulders. “It’s going to be a little chilly on the ride,” he said, then got in next to her.
The carriage creaked as they drove through town. The streets were deserted, no cars in sight, and it wasn’t hard to imagine herself slipping back in time. The smell of roasting meat wafted to them on the breeze, and as they got closer to the town square, he could hear festive music coming from one of the tents. After handing the carriage off to a young man dressed in pair of tattered pants and a long tunic, he tucked Charlie’s hand into the crook of his arm and grinned down at her.
When they walked through the brightly lit archway that led to the main tent, Charlie gasped. “Oh, my goodness, it almost looks like a castle,” she said, then grinned up at him.
“These are new. Thanks to silk screening, it almost looks real,” he said, leading her inside and toward the raised platform at the front of the tent. “We’ll sit up there.”
Charlie followed him, feeling eyes on them as they crossed the room. “I hate it when people stare,” she said, letting him help her into a chair.
“Don’t worry; they’ll quit soon,” he said. “As mayor, I’m the closest to royalty this town has. I usually play the king.”
Charlie laughed; it came bubbling out of her, a magical sound he wanted to hear again. “I was just picturing you wearing a crown,” she finally said, followed by a little giggle.
“Well, since you mentioned it,” he said, “there might be a crown or two involved.”
As if on cue, a young woman dressed as a servant came quietly up to them, a pillow topped with two crowns in her hands. “Your crown, my grace,” she said in a perfect English accent.
Vincent grinned up at her. “Thank you, Nancey,” he said, trying to imitate her accent.
Charlie burst out laughing again. “I think you need to work on that,” she said, her own accent shifting to mimic Nancey’s.
This time, Vincent was the one laughing. “That’s not fair; you’re the one from Ireland,” he said, sticking his tongue out at her.
He took the crowns from Nancey, who disappeared with a smile on her face. Vincent put his on, then picked up Charlie’s. “It’s been a long time since any
one has worn this,” he said, his eyes searching hers as he set it on her head.
The smile faded from her face; the connection between them began to pulse, and Charlie gasped. “Vincent, I don’t...we can’t...” But he didn’t let her finish.
He reached up and put his fingers over her lips. “For just this one night, let’s not worry about what’s out there; it will all still be there tomorrow,” he said. “This is special night, Charlie, a night full of magic and adventure. In the morning, it will all be gone, and I don’t want to waste a minute of it.”
Her face was full of indecision, but then her eyes softened, and he knew that he’d won. He wanted to shout at the top of his lungs, but instead, he just grinned at her and stood up to open the Medieval Ball with a speech. As he spoke, he felt Charlie’s eyes on him, and warmth spread through his body, followed by a thrill that almost made him forget the words.
There was little opportunity for conversation during dinner, thanks to the boisterous chatter and wandering musicians, but that didn’t mean that the passion between them lay dormant; Vincent made sure of that. He was subtle about his seduction, feeding Charlie bits of food, brushing his arm across her breast, and leaning over to whisper little comments when the opportunity arose.
By the time the last of the food had disappeared and the dancing began, Charlie was as flushed with desire as he was. When she slipped into his arms for the first dance, it took all of his control not to kiss her right then and there. Instead, he whirled her around the dance floor until she was laughing and out of breath. He only let her rest long enough to catch her breath, then pulled her back onto the floor and spent the rest of the evening teaching her the steps of all the old dances.
When the band finished their last song, Vincent took Charlie’s hand and led her outside. “Let’s get some fresh air while they set up for the midnight feast,” he said.
Charlie looked up at him. “Midnight feast? I thought it was over.”
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