“Mrs. St. George, what a pleasure. I can see where Sidney gets her beauty.”
“Why, thank you.” Her gaze traveled from Dermot to Sidney and back again. “Sidney, why haven’t you returned my calls?”
Her mother’s avid interest made her cringe. Sidney took a deep breath and pasted a smile on her face. “I’ve been busy. Susan St. George, meet Dermot MacKay.”
“How very lovely to meet you, Dermot.” Her mother graced him with a brilliant smile. “Call me Susan.”
Dermot could feel the tension between mother and daughter and wondered at the cause. That is, until Susan St. George focused her speculative gaze upon him. Mothers were not so different in the twenty-first century than they were in the fifth. Aye, and it suited him just fine. He’d use anything at his disposal to get his way. “I was about to take Sidney to lunch. Perhaps you’d like to join us?” He crossed his arms over his chest and sent Sidney a triumphant grin. As expected, her mother’s eyes lit up.
“Thank you.” Susan patted his arm. “I’ve already eaten. You two go on.”
Sidney gave him a defiant look. “I just told him I can’t get away for lunch today.”
“Oh, go on.” Susan turned back to her daughter. “Have some fun. I’ll stay here and help out for a bit. After all, I did work here for thirty years. I do know how to help customers and ring up a sale.”
“Fine.” Sidney’s face suffused with color as she stomped off.
He had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep the grin off his face. “You used to work here?” He turned back to Sidney’s mother.
“Yes, only it was a hardware store then. The business supported three generations of St. Georges before it became the boutique it is now.” She sighed and looked around. “This building holds the history of my husband’s family, may he rest in peace.”
“I’m sorry for your loss.” He watched Sidney emerge from the rear of the store. Something about her drew him in a way Mairéad never had, and yet their souls were one in the same. He couldn’t take his eyes off her. The very way she moved affected him. Susan St. George’s presence at his side barely registered.
“It’s been two years,” Susan continued. “I wanted to sell the business and the building. My daughter persuaded me to let her turn it into a venue for local artists, designers and crafters. Here’s Sidney.” She turned to smile at him. “Enjoy your lunch.”
He nodded, and followed Sidney out of the store. He had to quicken his stride to keep up with her pace. The thin, tight line of her mouth warned him to tread carefully. “Where are you leading me, lass?”
“Thai food.”
“So, Panache à Trois used to be the family hardware store?”
“Yep.”
“Your mother seems very pleasant.”
“Mmm.”
Dermot wasn’t sure what the sound she made meant. “You have only the one brother?”
“That’s right.”
“Your mother told me your father passed two years ago. That must’ve been difficult for you. I’m sorry.”
“Of course it was difficult.”
Dermot racked his brain for something to draw her out. “You’re very lucky to have your mother.”
She stopped in the middle of the sidewalk to frown at him. “I know I’m lucky. I love my mother, even if she does make me crazy.”
Never having had a mother, he found the dynamics a fascinating study. The relationships between mothers and their offspring were always complex and fraught with archetypes and symbolism. “How does she make you crazy?”
“She just does,” she huffed. “Whenever we talk, it seems we’re limited to two subjects.”
“What might those be?” She remained silent, and he wondered if she’d answer.
“Well, there’s the hardware conversation. Everyone who lives inside a building needs hardware, Sidney. Not everyone needs an original watercolor painting or handmade soap.”
“Ah, I see. Yet, she agreed to the boutique?”
“Sure she agreed.” She gave him a wry grin. “Just so she’d have something to torture me with.”
“And the other topic?”
“Yes, the other topic.” Sidney pushed her hands deep into her pockets. “She asks if I’ve met anyone. She’s become very determined to see me married and producing grandchildren.” She glanced at him. “Funny, huh? I mean, this is the twenty-first century. Women don’t need marriage to be successful. There’s nothing wrong with being single.”
“I canna say what women need today. Meeting me should make your mother happy, aye?” He grinned. “She knows you’re on a date.”
“This isn’t a date, MacMud. This is more akin to a stalking.”
Dermot chuckled. “If your mother’s nagging is the worst of your burdens, you’re a sight better off than most.” He heard her breath hitch before she turned away. “There’s more,” he prodded.
“Of course there’s more, and it’s none of your business.”
“Sometimes it’s easier to share your problems with a stranger.” Dermot shrugged. “I’ve a willing ear.” She gave him a skeptical look. “And, I live an ocean away.” He smiled and nudged her with his elbow. “Tell me.”
“I don’t think so, MacKay. It’s personal and I don’t know you.”
“What’s the harm? I swear no’ to share it with a soul, and if you like, I’ll share something equally as personal with you.”
She seemed to ponder his offer for a moment, and then the tension in her body eased. “Okay, but it has to be something really mortifying.”
“I already shared my most mortifying secret. Do you think I tell everyone my father gave me away like a pair of unwanted shoes?” The truth of his statement struck him between the eyes. He had told her. Why had he done so, and why had it been so easy?
“Yes, you did, and I’m still having trouble believing that story.” Sidney glanced up at him through her long lashes.
“Ask any of my men. They’ll confirm it’s true.”
Sidney sighed. “All right. Like my mother said, I lost my father two years ago.”
Dermot couldn’t help himself. He put his arm around her shoulders, careful not to hold her too close. His heart soared when she didn’t move away. “May I ask how he passed?”
“A freak accident. He slipped on a patch of ice, went down hard and hit his head on the sidewalk. He suffered an embolism and died.” She paused, swallowing a few times before continuing. “I hold a Masters in fine art. I attended the Minneapolis College of Art and Design, and then the University of Minnesota. When I first started school, my father never let an opportunity pass to tell me what he thought of my plans.”
“I’m sure he was proud.”
“Hardly.” She shook her head. “He referred to my career choice as an artsy-fartsy waste of time and money. His money. He urged me to go into something more legitimate, like marketing or business. My dad said I couldn’t make a decent living in the arts.” Sidney studied the store front they passed. “He didn’t believe in me.”
“I’m sure he was only concerned for your welfare, Sidney.”
“Like I said, he didn’t believe in me. I got tired of hearing it, so I stopped letting him pay my way, and I started taking out student loans. Let’s just say I have some debt.”
“Aye, that’s no’ so uncommon is it?” Where was she going with this?
“When my father died, Mom wanted to sell the hardware store, building and all. She had a buyer lined up.” She started to twist a strand of her hair around a finger. “Neighborhood hardware stores can’t compete with Home Depot, Menard’s, or any of today’s large chain stores. My father had mortgaged the family business to the hilt to keep it going. My brother and I didn’t know any of this until he died. The building and the business have been in the family since the St. Georges settled here. Selling didn’t seem right.”
She shrugged. “I talked my mother into letting me and Zoe turn it into a boutique. Grand Avenue has changed over the years. It’s trendy and
upscale with some very distinctive shops. I believe we can be profitable, and because most of our inventory is consignment, overhead is low. At least it will be once we’ve paid off the mortgage.”
“Seems like a very sound move. So what’s the problem?”
“What if it fails?” She shrugged. “What if my father was right, and it turns out to be an artsy-fartsy waste of time and money? What if my mother is right, and people don’t need watercolor paintings and handmade soaps?”
“It seems to be doing well.” He didn’t like seeing her upset. Every cell in his body urged him to protect her, to fix the problem immediately. He wanted to see her smile.
“Does it?” She sighed. “Not nearly as well as it needs to. Don’t you see? I have way more debt than assets. David is still in college, and my mother needs the retirement income selling the place would’ve given her. My family is depending on me.” She shook her head. “There’s so much debt, I wonder if we’ll ever see black.”
Just like that, she handed him the missing piece to the puzzle. He could offer to pay off all her debts in exchange for her help in lifting the curse. For some reason, having the key didn’t make him as happy as he thought it would.
Thomas started the SUV and reached under the driver’s seat to grab the book he’d brought with him. “Don’t forget to take this with you after lunch, Zoe.”
“What is it?” Zoe took the book from his hands and read the title out loud. “Scottish Myths and Legends. Why are you giving this to me?”
“We’re in it. I’m in it. The Legend of the Druid Laird is about Dermot and my clan.” Zoe made no response. He glanced at her, and found her staring out of the car window with her chin propped on her fist. “Zoe?”
“I almost wish you hadn’t given me this book.” She tossed it to the floor by her feet. “Now I’m thinkin’ you’ve made the whole thing up based on some stupid story you read.”
“I thought I already proved I didn’t make the whole thing up. What’s it going to take before you believe me? Shall we go back to the hotel so I can cut myself again?” Thomas scowled at her.
“Point taken.” She sighed.
“I want to get past this. I need to tell you the rest of the tale and have done with it.” He reached out to wrap one of her blond curls around his finger. “You always were a stubborn little thing.”
Zoe turned to face him, her eyes wide. “Do you mean in my other life?”
“Aye.” Thomas grinned. “Stubborn and bossy.” Zoe’s disgruntled expression made him laugh, and she moved her curls out of his reach.
“And beautiful beyond compare.”
“What was my name?”
“Iselda. My lovely Iselda, as fair as a sunny day in spring you were.” A lump formed in his throat. He remembered everything, even after all these centuries.
“Of course,” Zoe snapped.
Her tone brought him back fast. “What is it, love?”
“I’m feeling jealous…of myself.” She turned to gaze out the window again. “I don’t want to be with someone who only wants to be with me because of who I used to be…even though both are me. I want to be with someone who wants to be with me—the me I am now.” She huffed. “This is so eff-ing confusing.”
“I understand what you’re trying to say.” Thomas reached for her hand. “It’s you I want, Zoe LeBlanc. I canna wait to learn everything there is to know about you. I canna wait to make love with you and have our first fight.” He gave her hand a squeeze. “Your spirit is the same as it always was, though you are a different person altogether. Does that make sense?”
“I suppose.” Zoe gave him a small smile. “So, where did we leave off?”
Thomas pulled out into traffic in the direction of the restaurant. “I was about to tell you how Mairéad and Dermot came to be together. Have you heard of the Tuatha Dé Danann?”
“Sure. Faeries.”
“In a manner of speaking.”
“They’re only a myth, aren’t they?”
“No’ so mythical. Mairéad was Tuatha Dé Danann, a granddaughter to their high king. They’re immortal. Some call them faerie folk, though they refer to themselves as children of the goddess Danu.” He cocked his head as he thought about it. “I do no’ think they’re born immortal.” He flashed her a grin. “I have my theories, you ken.”
“The story, Thomas. Focus.”
“Bossy little thing,” he muttered. “Some things never change.”
She raised her eyebrows at him. “Would you like to have that first fight now?”
Thomas laughed, and ran his hand up her thigh. “Aye, if it means we can have make-up sex.” Zoe giggled and took hold of his hand. His world shifted, and all was exactly as it should be.
“Mairéad met Dermot at one of our gatherings. She became infatuated with him and begged Áine, her mother, to arrange a match. In those days, unions between the Tuatha Dé Danann and mortals were no longer so common. Her mother forbade the union, so Mairéad took matters into her own hands. She approached Dermot and proposed they wed, emphasizing the benefits an alliance with the Tuatha would bring to our clan. They have supernatural powers. An alliance would make the MacKays invincible, or so we thought at the time.”
“Have, as in they still exist? What about Mairéad’s father?”
“Aye, they still exist. Mairéad’s father was human. Perhaps that’s why Áine objected. As the story goes, her husband and sons refused immortality when it was offered to them. She watched them grow old and die. Dermot’s beliefs about immortality were well known to Áine. I’m sure she feared her daughter would suffer the same heartache.”
“How did Dermot feel about Mairéad?”
“It’s hard to say. I do no’ think he loved her as she loved him, but he certainly saw the value in the alliance with the Tuatha. Our clan was well off, and we had many enemies because of it. An alliance with the Tuatha made sense at the time. As a Druid, Dermot viewed Mairéad’s immortality as abhorrent and against the laws of nature. He agreed to wed her on the condition that she give up her birthright and become mortal.”
“No.” She gasped. “He didn’t.”
“Aye, he did, and Mairéad agreed to his terms. This made Áine livid and not at all kindly disposed toward Dermot, to say the least. Mortality put her only daughter’s life in peril, not to mention she’d have to watch her last remaining child grow old and die a mortal death.”
“I feel sorry for Áine. It must be terrible to watch everyone you love age and die.”
“Aye, that it is, but some suffer loss and become more compassionate. Áine’s losses turned her heart to stone.”
Sidney glanced at the clock on her bedside table. The green light showed 11:30 p.m. She flipped onto her back, pulled the covers up to her chin and tried hard to fall asleep. It wasn’t happening. Why on earth had she spilled her guts to Dermot MacKay? Even worse, why had she told him about her financial insecurities?
The blame lay with her mother. If she hadn’t shown up at the store, Sidney could’ve avoided Dermot’s company altogether. None of her conflicted feelings would have been stirred up. No, she wasn’t being fair. The fault was hers. If she had returned her mother’s calls, she wouldn’t have popped up at the store, and then Sidney could’ve avoided Dermot. Yep, it was her own fault.
She gave up, turned her lamp on and got out of bed to get her sketch pad and charcoal pencils. She settled on her bed with her back against the headboard. Flipping to a blank page, she let her mind wander and drew. The delicate features of a lovely young woman took shape on the paper. She wore her hair in a thick braid that hung over her shoulder. Her face radiated goodness, and her eyes twinkled with good humor. Who are you? Why do you feel so familiar?
Sidney tore the drawing off the tablet and began another. This time a building took shape, a stone and timber structure built on the summit of a hill and surrounded by a ditch. One drawing after another littered the top of her bedspread.
Her heart beat a staccato rhythm and she had trou
ble breathing. What does it mean? It means I’m going crazy, that’s what. She covered her face with her hands and curled up into a fetal position amidst the drawings of places she’d never been and faces she’d never known. She reached out to turn her lamp off and fell into a restless sleep.
She awoke to the scent of a summer rainstorm. Sidney sat up in bed and searched the dark corners of her room. A tiny ball of blue light flashed into existence, spinning and growing. She watched in fascinated horror as the ball of light grew. Then she appeared, and a rush of fight-or-flight adrenaline coursed through Sidney.
Scary Faerie floated above the floor, her ethereal face an unreadable mask. “Did I not warn you to stay away from him?”
“I try, but MacKay doesn’t take no for an answer. He shows up anyway.” Sidney scooted back against her headboard.
“He forcibly carries you out of the building?” Scary Faerie’s iridescent gaze fixed on one of the drawings on Sidney’s bed, the image of the young woman. “What is this?” She extended her arm, and the sketch flew to her hand.
“Just a drawing. I…I don’t even know who she is.”
Scary Faerie’s expression hardened. The sketch in her hand curled at the edges, and blue flame turned it to ash in an instant. What was it about the picture that upset Scary Faerie so much that she’d burned it to a crisp? The faerie didn’t say a word, and Sidney hoped she’d disappear.
“The danger he poses to you is not physical. He’ll ruin your life.”
“He told me he’s only going to be here for two weeks. How can he ruin my life in fourteen days? How do you suggest I stay away from him when he keeps showing up?” Her excuses were lame. If she really wanted to avoid Dermot, she could. He drew her like no man ever had before and stirred unfamiliar and inexplicable emotions. Not just lust. She yanked at her covers and looked anywhere but at the being she could no longer pretend was a dream.
“Has he told you why he’s here?”
“He says he wants to do business with me. Something about bee products.” She shrugged. “I told him no.”
“He’s not here about bees.”
Heart of the Druid Laird Page 5