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The Amethyst Amulets

Page 8

by Cillian Burns


  There was only one thing left to discover. Would he and Julie be compatible? Could they spend weeks or months together in harmony? He'd had a marriage filled with peace and happiness. A total sham wouldn't suit him at all. And he didn't want Julie unhappy either.

  He clasped her softly rounded shoulders, pulled her toward him, and locked his gaze with hers. If she resisted, he would stop...but she didn't. Surprise died and desire sprang to life in her violet eyes. Almost as if mesmerized, Julie swayed toward him, her lips parted slightly. Her lilac perfume dizzied his senses, and the texture of her velvet gown wooed his fingertips. As his hands slid down her arms to capture her fingers, a soft moan escaped Julie's lips.

  Slowly, giving her time to pull back, he lowered his lips to hers and with hard-won restraint brushed them with a light stroke. Her mouth softened and he pressed more firmly, taking the kiss deeper. His heart raced and hot flames rushed to his groin, making him aware of just how much he desired her. He knew he shouldn't want Julie this much, but coherent thought deserted him.

  He traced the honeyed seam of her lips with his tongue, begging entry. To his surprise, she opened like a morning glory in the sun. Plunging in, he stroked her tongue with his, tasting the sweetness of her mouth. Caught up in the magic, her desire seemed to match his. But it didn't last. Julie turned an enticing shade of pink and began to pull away.

  "No, Nick, stop...” She unwound her fingers from his and placing her hands on his chest, gave a gentle shove. The Julie of this time had more doubts than his compliant wife Julianne. Even so, he wanted this woman in his life, wanted her for his son's sake as well as for his own. How could he have wondered if she would make him happy?

  "I...” Julie faltered. “I shouldn't have...” She turned away.

  When he touched her arm, she shook her head, refusing to look at him. “Don't, Nick. Please, just leave me alone."

  Nicholas saw Lily watching him from across the room, waiting for his decision.

  He nodded and Lily smiled before melting into the crowd. The amulets had been activated.

  "I'm sorry, Julie.” He really wasn't. He'd kiss her again if she'd let him. But he was trying to be Nick, so grabbing her again would be out of character for his namby-pamby descendant.

  "I hope you aren't angry,” he added quietly. It had been a long time since he'd kissed anyone other than his wife. Neither she nor any other woman had ever acted displeased with his kisses, and Julie had at first seemed to enjoy their kiss. Why she stopped puzzled him.

  "No, Nick, I'm not angry. Just disappointed. I thought we agreed to be just friends."

  He stared at her. Her kiss had not been that of a friend. Although, he remembered no such conversation, the other Nick probably did. He decided a reply wasn't necessary.

  He changed the subject. “It's time to start the festivities. Shall we go seat ourselves?"

  She nodded. “Yes, let's. I asked the Norvilles to sit at the lord's table with us."

  Julie started across the keep, but he froze, remembering his last encounter with Stephen.

  The man hadn't returned his invitation to the feast by mail. Oh, no. He'd brought it in person a week ago. Nicholas had immediately decided he didn't like this modern day version of Miles Norville any better than his thirteen century counterpart.

  As the three of them had exchanged pleasantries—well, Julie said pleasant things while he ground his teeth—Stephen mentioned he owned some books of medieval love songs and offered to show them to Julie when she seemed interested. Furious, Nicholas had wanted to throw him out. Julie had glared at him, so he'd restrained himself, until she returned from her visit with Stephen and his stupid books.

  "Cancel his invitation!” he'd roared.

  "That would be rude and uncalled for. What's he done to you?” Julie looked at him oddly.

  To explain was impossible, so he'd shrugged it off. A seven hundred and fifty year-old-feud would probably boggle her mind.

  Now, he followed Julie to the head table, seated her in the chair next to his, and then took his place. He greeted Stephen with a frosty grimace, wondering if this man could be as despicable as his ancestor. Did a man's nasty streak be handed down to his descendants?

  "Looks like a good crowd again this year, Nicky,” Margaret said with a smile.

  Nicholas nodded, too irritated to formulate a reply.

  Julie leaned around him and said, “Nice to see you, Maggie. How are the boys?"

  While the women talked, Stephen asked, “Have your debts caused you to reconsider selling me the land we spoke of in December?” His pleasant tone didn't disguise the faint sneer playing around his thin lips. Even the way he clutched his goblet irritated Nicholas.

  His mind raced. He had held a similar conversation about land with his brother-in-law in his own time. And he hadn't changed his mind about what to do since then.

  "No."

  Stephen narrowed his eyes, his pale face taking on a baneful expression. “You should rethink that decision."

  "Why? Obviously, you have much to gain from my agreement.” Nicholas had discovered the modern estate was partially intact—land wise. His descendants had proven to be good caretakers—the present lord excepted. Much of the property he'd held in the past still remained. If only the current taxation system hadn't drained his coffers or bank account as Julie called it.

  Stephen wasn't finished. “And you have much to lose by refusing."

  Nicholas considered his options. If he agreed to sell the land to Stephan, the current owner's money worries would be solved. If he didn't...

  He leaned over and murmured in Julie's shell pink ear, “What does Stephen intend to do with my land should I sell?” There had to be some huge profit in this.

  "I heard rumors a land developer has been scouting around. One that wants to build rural retreat villas for city people,” she whispered back.

  "That wouldn't be good, would it?” Stephen probably had some nasty money-making scheme in mind, but Nicholas still hated having to ask Julie to verify his suspicions. It hurt his pride to be advised by a woman, especially one who seemed to have set herself up as the guardian of his purse strings.

  "I think if you sell him the land for the price he quoted in December, he'll turn around and offer it to the developer. For a huge profit, I'm sure."

  Another Norville out to cheat someone. “Doesn't he know I'm aware of all this?"

  "Until now, you haven't wanted to think about it. He's probably hoping you'll agree before you discover what he's up to. Or to get him to stop pestering you."

  Nicholas scowled. This idiot of a descendant whose body he inhabited needed shaking. Did he not keep abreast of what was happening around him? If Nicholas had lived here for all of his thirty years, things would not have gotten so out of hand.

  He turned back and glared at Stephen. “The answer is still no. Perhaps I will contact this land developer myself.” Not that he intended to do so. Imagine all those wealthy merchants tramping around his land, perhaps poaching, but at the very least cluttering up the countryside with cottages for commoners. Women running around in those indecent garments called shorts. He shuddered. There had to be some better solution to the money problems of the current Lord of Barstow. Not that it mattered. He would shortly return to his own time, and the weakling who lived here would probably give in to Stephen's pressure. For a minute, Nicholas regretted he was leaving.

  Stephen glared back at him, his fair complexion beet red.

  Julie nudged Nicholas. “It's time to welcome everyone and start the banquet."

  He rose and proceeded with his usual greeting for a May Day Feast. If a few of his words about ridding the forests of poachers raised eyebrows, so be it. It would not be long until he could address his own problems, not Nick Montclair's.

  Although the hour was late, some couples still danced. Julie sat on a bench next to Nick, listening to the musical group he'd hired. Her feet hurt. She looked for Lily and saw her leaning against the wall on the opposite side
of the room, her obsidian eyes watching them. Her friend had not come near her all evening and Julie felt a bit put out.

  Nick took her hand. “Are you tired, Julie?"

  She sighed. “Yes, it was fun, but I'm exhausted.” She thought of the inevitable bills and shuddered.

  Nick lifted the amulet she'd given him and stared down at it. “Do you believe in magic, Julie?"

  She glanced down at her own necklace. “I wish I did."

  "There may be magic in these amulets."

  She shook her head. “Probably not, but wouldn't it be great if there were. Do you think we'd get a wish granted?"

  "Maybe. These are very old. They have seen much come to pass."

  "Do you believe they could give a person her heart's desire?” She looked up into his glowing amber eyes. The feeling she'd experienced during their kiss returned, spreading heat through her body. Her heart thudded wildly as he gazed down at her.

  "I believe it's possible, depending on the degree of desire.” His eyes spoke volumes.

  "How would one find out?” she murmured, still mesmerized by his burning gaze.

  "You could try rubbing the amulet,” he said in a husky voice.

  "What would happen, do you think?"

  "Possibly something wonderful."

  As long as she didn't have to stand, she'd try it. Her knees were too weak and her breathing too fast. For some unknown reason, Nick had become her heart's desire.

  "Let's do it at the same time and make a wish.” He grasped her hand in his and held it tightly.

  She smiled. “All right. I'll indulge you."

  The amulet felt warm as she rubbed it between her fingers. A sudden premonition told her this might not be a wise idea. But it came too late.

  "What's happening?” she cried, real terror rising in her chest.

  "We're going home,” Nick answered, wrapping his arm around her. His embrace felt right. It felt protective. And at that moment, there was nothing she wanted more.

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  Chapter 8

  Julie opened her eyes. Nick had said something about going home. How ridiculous. They had gone nowhere. She glanced around and froze. No familiar face met her gaze. But the dancing candlelight and elaborate costumes could somewhat disguise the guests, especially a little way off, couldn't they? Her gaze dropped to the floor where layers of rushes had suddenly appeared. The smell of unwashed bodies wrinkled her nose. How very strange.

  Shaking off the moment of unease, she turned to Nick who was grinning. Before she could ask him what was so funny, an attractive, dark-haired woman hurried over to the corner where they stood and took Julie's hands.

  "Oh, Julianne, I know you will be so happy with Nicholas. He will make you a fine husband."

  To Julie's surprise, the woman spoke in French—but not quite the same French used by the Medieval Society. More like the Norman French Julie taught. And why did she call her Julianne? True, her middle name was Anne, but she never used it. Why did this woman assume Nick would make her a fine husband? In fact, who was she?

  As Julie opened her mouth to ask, a man strode over to them and lifted the silver goblet he held. “Another toast to the bride and groom,” he shouted. The crowd roared its approval. Raising their cups, everyone beamed at Nick and Julie.

  "B-bride and groom?” She stared at Nick.

  He looked as puzzled as she. “Bride and groom?” he echoed. “Eleanor, have you mistaken the day?"

  "Surely, Nicholas, you haven't forgotten wedding the Lady Julianne this morn, have you?” The woman called Eleanor stared at him as though he'd lost his mind.

  A strange expression washed over Nick's face. He gave his head a slight shake as if to clear it. “Oh, aye, the wedding."

  "What are they talking about, Nick?” she asked with a frown.

  "Our wedding this morn on the church steps,” he murmured in her ear.

  Julie gave an exasperated sigh. “Will you stop it, Nick."

  Eleanor looked perplexed. “The Lady Julianne must be exhausted from an overly long and stressful day."

  Julie stared to deny it. “I..."

  Nick interrupted. “Mayhap we should retire. We must speak together—alone."

  "What's going on?” Julie's level of confusion was rising.

  Nick took her arm, his fingers squeezing gently. “Please, just come with me and I'll explain."

  "You'd better have some pretty good reasons for all this.” She held back a little, but he nudged her forward.

  "Nay, nay!” The crowd surged after them.

  "The lady's maids must garb her for bed. ‘Tis unseemly for you to accompany her, my lord,” called a woman Julie didn't recognize. But then, except for Nick, she really didn't see anyone she knew. Where were they?

  A different woman stepped forward pushing two young girls in front of her. “Gwyneth and Alda will escort you, Lady Julianne."

  Nick leaned closer and whispered again in her ear, “Go with them. I will join you shortly.” His warm breath moved like stroking fingers across her already heated cheek. “They think we are wed. Humor them for the moment."

  Shaken, Julie nodded and followed the girls up the stairs.

  Nicholas leaned weakly against the stairwell and watched her go. He had returned to the thirteenth century. The people surrounding him were his own relatives, retainers and servants. The wedding, however, puzzled him. True, he and Julianne had married on the first day of May, but in 1249. Unless he mistook the circumstances, he and Julie had gone back to a time a year before he left. How could that be?

  He shook his head wearily. Wait until he got his hands on that wretched witch, Lily. Burning at the stake would be too merciful for the way she'd disturbed his life. He glanced over the heads of the people below him on the steps but didn't see her. Was she still in the future? He doubted it. She had some plan for Julie and him, but what?

  Because he had to make a show of waiting to join his bride, Nicholas descended to the great hall. He smiled at his sister and tried not to listen to Miles’ sly remarks about the pleasures awaiting him in his chamber.

  "A soft and pretty bed you will lie on tonight,” his brother-in-law said with a leer.

  "Aye.” Nicholas had bigger worries. He still had to explain to Julie what had happened.

  "I shall not say sleep as you will do little of that.” Miles gave a coarse guffaw.

  "Enough,” Nicholas growled. Although ribald comments were part of the routine bedding procedure, he didn't feel like joining in. He didn't need Miles’ snide taunts. But he did need a plausible explanation for Julie who was going to be furious. After all, he'd schemed with Lily to take Julie back to his time.

  Nicholas had told the witch about his suspicion that Miles would try to harm the babe. “So,” he had finished, “I have no choice but to take Julie back with me.

  Lily appeared skeptical. “No choice?"

  "None. My son needs protection, and I am often from home. Even though you assure me no time has passed since I left, when I return, I must go to London and hire more mercenaries to build up my army."

  "And Julie will guard Edward?"

  "Aye. She is strong and intelligent, and I could trust her to cope when I am away.” He hesitated, then added, “But there is something I must know before I do this."

  "And that is...?” The witch crossed her arms and leaned back against her work table. The satisfied expression on her face told him he had played right into her hands somehow. Could she have wanted him to take Julie back with him?

  "First, I must know whether Julie will be able to return to the twenty-first century if she is unhappy in my time. After a reasonable period, of course."

  Lily smiled. “Of course. If I activate the amulet again, she can return."

  "Then I shall keep it with me. To safeguard it for her,” he added quickly at Lily's raised eyebrow. “After I have dealt with Miles, I shall ask you to send her back. I presume you are returning to my time?"

  She nodded again
. “I am wherever I am needed."

  He had also discussed with Lily whether he and Julie would be compatible since they would be living together in the castle. Julie was a prickly little thing and obedience would not come easily to her. He suspected she liked reminding him he had overspent his money better than kisses and bed sport.

  Some giggles interrupted his thoughts. He glanced up.

  "Your lady awaits, my lord,” cooed Gwyneth, stifling laughter with a hand over her mouth. Alda giggled. He eyed them sternly. Alda was only fourteen and easily excited, but Gwyneth had seventeen summers and should behave better.

  They curtseyed and scurried down past him to join the others in the great hall.

  Nicholas slowly mounted the winding stone steps to his bedchamber, trying to decide just what to tell Julie. He had faced vast armies in a happier frame of mind.

  Angry and confused, Julie paced back and forth in a room that looked nothing like any place she'd ever seen in Barstow Castle. Rushes covered the cold stone floor and a single candle wavered in the chill night air creeping in around the shutters. No electricity. She'd searched for a switch as soon as she'd shooed the girls out but found nothing. Had Nick fixed up an authentic bedroom for the tourists? No, he didn't have enough imagination. But the way he'd acted during the last few weeks made her wonder if she could be wrong. He'd been different in so many ways...

  Footsteps sounded outside and someone knocked. “May I enter, Julianne?” It was Nick.

  Why was he calling her Julianne? And the teenaged girls had referred to her as Lady Julianne. How peculiar. She felt like Alice down the rabbit hole.

  "Yes, and you'd better have a good explanation for all of this."

  The door opened and Nick filled the space. He seemed to have taken on extra height and musculature and his shoulders and chest appeared broader than she remembered. Startled, she took a step backward.

  Her action brought a frown to his handsome face. “You fear me, Julianne?"

  "No, I'm just confused. I need answers, Nick. Now!"

 

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