She had to admit she had been thinking seriously of accepting Rudolf’s proposal, and now she found herself worrying whether the temptation had been due to her own subconscious telling her she could not face life on her own. After all, she could not truthfully say she loved him, but then how was she supposed to know what it would feel like if she did? His kisses gave her no particular thrill, but, again, no other man had ever kissed her, so how could she know?
Boyishly handsome with curly dark hair and brown eyes, he was also charming and intelligent, and she certainly admired his great talent and ambition to be a concert pianist. They had spent many pleasant evenings in the dormitory parlor, she sitting beside him on the piano bench as his slender fingers danced on the ivory keys to bring his music to life.
She had also enjoyed the company of Rudolf’s sister, and when Elenore had left school months ago, she’d stayed in touch, urging Marilee to accept her brother’s proposal.
When school ended, Rudolf and Elenore insisted she visit them for as long as she liked. Sympathetically, they pointed out that since she hadn’t heard from her father in so long, she really had nowhere to go except to the Coltranes.
Marilee had hesitated, wanting time away from Rudolf to search within herself and decide if she wanted to marry him. Now, she bitterly mused, it seemed she had no other choice, since everyone around her apparently considered her a moron.
If only she could get in touch with her father, she thought desperately. She would not let herself believe he was dead. When his letters had abruptly stopped, she’d written in desperation to Czar Nicholas, only to learn a few days later of the revolution and his forced abdication…and she knew there would be no reply. Fear for her father’s safety grew with each passing day.
When Rudolf had gently pointed out that she really had no home of her own, she had proudly reminded him of Daniberry. He was horrified that she could even consider going there, with Germany at war with France. Still, she knew if she had a home, it was the palatial estate just outside Paris that her father had so lovingly built for her mother. Forever would she treasure the memories of that Christmas she’d spent there with her father, the year after Kitty died. They had been so happy, so close, sharing ten beautiful days together. When, sadly, it had to end, he had promised that when her schooling was finished, he would leave Russia and, at long last, they would be together as father and daughter, and make Daniberry the home it was meant to be.
But now, standing at a crossroads in her life, she was determined that she would, ultimately, make the decision on which road to take, and no matter what anyone thought, said, or did, it was going to be her choice.
With a sigh of resignation, she got up, bathed, and dressed for the wedding breakfast. Staring at her reflection in the full-length mirror, she frowned. She had chosen a simple gray dress with a square neckline, short sleeves, a wide waist belt, and pleated skirt. Her shoes were black leather, with pointed toes and a silver buckle. She wore her chestnut hair parted in the middle, then wound in rolls above her ears. Rudolf liked it that way, just as he approved of conservative colors and styles. She’d never really cared much for fashion, feeling that since she was tall and slender, demure and alluring designs would only look ridiculous on her. Tiny, petite girls like Elenore were meant to wear them. Now, however, she wondered what it would be like to try something new. Her gown for the wedding was certainly different—peach chiffon with a slightly plunging neckline, pouf sleeves, a wide satin belt, and a gently billowing skirt that daintily touched her ankles above silver shoes with the highest heels she’d ever worn. Yet she knew that despite everything, she would still look dull, colorless.
There was a knock, and she heard Jade calling to her. When she opened the door, she could not help thinking that the look of disappointment in her aunt’s eyes matched her own in the mirror.
With a forced smile, Jade said, “Well, I see you’re up and ready for the breakfast, and since we’ve got a few minutes, I’d like to talk to you, if I may.”
Marilee shrugged, gestured to the chairs in front of the fireplace. They sat down, and Jade got straight to the point.
“We’re worried about you, dear,” she began gently. “All of us. You seem so unhappy.”
“I’m sorry if I’m making everyone uncomfortable,” Marilee coolly said, not looking at her but staring down at her folded hands.
“Oh, no, dear. It’s not that. We care. We really do. I just wanted to know if there’s anything I can do, if there’s anything you want to talk about. Heavens, I know you’re worried about your father. We all are, but for the moment, there’s nothing we can do but pray for his safety.”
“I wish I could go look for him,” Marilee said miserably. “I feel so helpless.”
“If I thought it would help, I’d encourage you to do just that.”
No one ever said winning a Goddess’s love was easy…
Goddess of Eire
© 2012 Janeen O’Kerry
Parlan, the new high king of Ireland, has been chosen by his people. Now he must be seen as a king in the eyes of the gods of ancient Ireland. He must take the goddess Eriu as his wife for one night, but he quickly realizes that one night will never be enough. Yet even a king must work for the love of a goddess. And when his arrogance opens his country up to a terrible curse, Parlan must depend on Eriu’s mercy to save them all.
Despite her temptation to give in to the strong and handsome mortal king, her pride does not allow Eriu to let Parlan take her as his wife. Yet as the goddess of the land, Eriu’s fate is tied directly to that of the country the Black Dragon is destroying. Although she has vowed to help Parlan defeat the Dragon, her power is weakening and Parlan is left to fight a battle with the odds, gods, and even his own men against him.
Enjoy the following excerpt for Goddess of Eire:
“The new king awaits you, Lady Eriu,” said the goddess Brighid, as she walked through the sunlit meadow with her red wool gown trailing over the lush green grass and the bright yellow primroses. “I wonder if your anticipation is anywhere near as great as his.”
Eriu looked up from her seat on the sun-warmed boulder and smiled faintly at her sister goddess. “He cannot be a king if I do not find him worthy. No doubt his apprehension is great indeed.”
Brighid stood before her and took Eriu’s hands in her own. “My dear sister, I do not mean simply whether he will become the next High King or no. I am thinking of the ritual itself. Does it truly mean no more to you than the mere appointment of yet another leader for the world of Men?”
Gently Eriu withdrew her hands and gazed out over the meadow to the tall deep forest of oak and holly that surrounded it. As it always was here in the Otherworld, that mystical plane of existence where the gods and goddesses made their home, the season was springtime and the weather sunlit and pleasant. She stood up and took a few slow steps across the soft thick grass, smoothing her green wool gown as she paced.
“I have performed the kingmaking ritual countless times,” Eriu said. “From the very first days, when the gods and goddesses began to teach mortals to live as humans and not as animals, the task that fell to me as the Goddess of the Land was to confer Sovereignty on the king—to show his people in the clearest terms that this man was worthy to be their king.”
Brighid nodded, taking a step towards her. “And since the king is no less than the husband and protector of the Land, it is only right that no other but the Goddess of the Land—the Goddess of Eire—should be the one to approve him.”
“Indeed. I have never turned away from this duty. Each time a new king is chosen, I leave the Otherworld and step into the world of Men…there to test the man they have put forward and decide whether he is worthy of being a king.”
“Yet you do this in the most intimate manner possible for any woman, Lady Eriu—for any woman, goddess or no. If the man passes your test, you take him as your husband for that night.”
Eriu turned and smiled at Brighid, calmly meeting her gaze. “So I do. A
goddess can show no greater approval for any mortal man than to take him as a mate, even if only for a night. No one can doubt that such a man is worthy to be king.”
“But, Eriu—I have often wondered how difficult this is for you. As you say, you have done this since the beginning and that is a very long time. I know what a gentle and caring spirit you truly are. Is it enough for you to simply take a mate for one night and then coolly turn your back and walk away from him, never to see him again? Does this not affect your heart?”
Eriu started to answer then paused. She glanced up at the slanting rays of the sun as it began to approach the trees and mountains to the west.
“I cannot allow my heart to be a part of the kingmaking ritual,” she said at last. “If I should allow myself to fall in love with any Man, how could I ever lie with another to make that one a king?” She shook her head. “I vowed as the Goddess of the Land to do this thing for the Land where Men live, and I will keep that vow.”
“Yet it seems to me too much to ask of any woman to set aside her own need for love and companionship in order to serve the world of Men. Perhaps you have done this thing long enough. Perhaps it is time—”
“I do not perform the kingmaking ritual only to help the people of the natural world,” Eriu said quickly, her eyes narrowing. “I do it for love of the Land itself, to make certain it always has a worthy guardian and protector.
“I am no warrior. A sword would cut me down as quickly as it would any Man. I cannot protect the Land itself. But I can find the Men who will—and so I do.”
“So you do. And I understand why,” Brighid said. “But even a goddess has need of a mate and a companion who will be there for more than just one night—of someone to whom she can give the love that is now saved only for the Land. And a broken heart can be as deadly as any sword.”
Brighid took a step toward Eriu. “We have all spent time walking among the people of the natural world. We, too, may be drawn by the beauty of the Men. We may well choose to spend a night or a year or even a lifetime with a mortal mate, and then simply return to the Otherworld when that lifetime draws to a close as it must for each one of them. Even a goddess cannot prevent that.”
“Indeed she cannot,” Eriu said quietly. “And you are right, Lady Brighid, I do hear the calling of my heart, and I do wonder what it might be like to have the love and companionship of one of those fine kings for more than just one night. Yet to do so, I would have to turn my back on the Land that also has my love. How could I do such a thing, my sister? How could I ever do such a thing?”
Brighid had no answer for her. Eriu lifted the hem of her dark green gown, turned away from the setting sun and began to walk toward the east, toward the world of Men.
Souls Aflame
Patricia Hagan
Shipwrecked on the rocky shores of romance…
Julie Marshall’s brother has been labeled a traitor to the South. Unable to stay, she must now leave her beloved home, Rose Hill, and board the Ariane, a blockade-running frigate sailing for London, in order to save the family home. On route, she is shipwrecked on an island in the Gulf with handsome Captain Derek Arnhardt.
After finding a love and passion unlike anything she has ever known, Julie and Derek are soon torn apart when they are rescued and Julie must leave to search for her missing brother. Plunged into a world of intrigue and darkness, Julie prays that she and Derek can be reunited and rediscover the love that once set their souls aflame.
This Retro Romance reprint was originally published by HarperCollins in July 1996.
eBooks are not transferable.
They cannot be sold, shared or given away as it is an infringement on the copyright of this work.
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.
Samhain Publishing, Ltd.
11821 Mason Montgomery Road Suite 4B
Cincinnati OH 45249
Souls Aflame
Copyright © 2012 by Patricia Hagan
ISBN: 978-1-61921-013-4
Edited by Heather Osborn
Cover by Valerie Tibbs
All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
Original Copyright by HarperCollins: June 1996
First Samhain Publishing, Ltd. electronic publication: August 2012
www.samhainpublishing.com
Table of Contents
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
About the Author
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