“My lady? What are you thinking so intently about? Is there something wrong?”
“Nothing is wrong. I was only daydreaming.” I opened the basket, covered it with a blue and white striped tablecloth and began arranging the food on the table. There was a hamper of fried chicken, apples, fresh bread and butter. For liquid refreshment, I brought a bottle of port for Ambrose and tea for me. It was very simple, but I hoped it would make an enjoyable lunch. I wanted to please my friend.
“Tell me, daydreamer. What are you thinking about now?”
“About how magical it feels today. The skies are blue, the water is smooth like glass, so much so that I could just about be persuaded to go swim.”
“Well, you are a siren, aren’t you?”
I laughed at that. “Hardly. I am no mystical creature. I hope you aren’t too disappointed.”
“I have heard you sing. You sing like an angel.”
“I am skilled enough to know that I do not, but I play the piano quite well. For your information, sir,” I said with a playful, mock-official tone, “I prefer truth over flattery. I hope you will remember that.”
He rose to his feet and walked toward me. It was a sudden movement that took me by surprise. “I will remember that. I am glad to hear you say it. For it is in my heart to tell you many truths today, if you care to listen. Let us think of this place as our Joyous Guard, a magical tower where no one can touch us. While we are here, we can be who we really are with no worry for anything else.”
“Such things you say. Is there such a place?” I had to admit I was curious. The very idea of going to a place where people could do whatever they wanted seemed quite impossible.
He took my hand and stopped me from setting out plates. Standing close to me, he whispered, “Let me tell you a story. Come sit. Enough with all these formalities. We are friends here, Susanna Serene.”
I sat down beside him and smiled to show him I was eager to hear the story.
“Once a long time ago, there was a great king named Arthur. Wherever Arthur went, he inspired the people, for he treated everyone fairly—in fact, it was often said that he had the kindest heart in all of Britain. That was his homeland.”
“I see…I wonder…”
“No. Shh…no talking until I’m through, all right?”
“All right,” I said in a whisper.
“Arthur was a young king, and soon he began to look for a suitable wife. His friend and advisor, Merlin, helped him search for her. But in the end, Arthur fell in love with someone who did not know her own mind. She did not truly love the gallant king, although she thought she ought to. Everyone else did. Merlin warned Arthur it would end in heartache, but Arthur would not listen. It was Guinevere he wanted, and Guinevere he would have. He married her to great celebration, and soon the two began to build a golden city called Camelot.
“One day, Arthur’s closest friend, Lancelot du Lac, came to Camelot to pay homage to his friend and king. That was the day he first laid eyes upon Guinevere, the lovely queen who’d stolen the heart of the king and the entire realm, and that was the day Lancelot lost his heart too. He decided that he would never love another. Even though he would never think of cuckolding his closest friend, he had to tell Guinevere how he felt. If for nothing else but absolution. If she rejected him he would leave her alone, knowing that he would never feel this way about anyone else. But Fate had other ideas. As soon as her gaze fell upon him, something inside her told her this stranger was her soul mate.”
“Soul mate? I am sorry to interrupt when I promised I would not, but what is a soul mate?”
Ambrose held my hand but only briefly. He released it quickly and said, “A soul mate is someone you are destined to be with. Your souls are tied together throughout eternity, from one life to the next. Now do you understand?”
“More than one life? Can this be true, or is this only part of the story?”
“No more questions, my lady. Remember your promise. I must finish the story.”
“Yes, please continue, Ambrose.” My eyes were wide with excitement. Ambrose was a masterful storyteller.
“Before Lancelot could present himself privately to the queen, evil men in Arthur’s realm told the king of their suspicions—that Guinevere’s heart had been given to another. Arthur went to see if the rumors were true. Unbeknownst to him, Lancelot appeared in the queen’s court and pleaded for a private audience with her. He told her of his weakness for her, and she respectfully absolved him and sent him away. She did not tell the knight that she felt the same way. She was an honorable woman and knew there was more at stake than her mere happiness. However, Arthur appeared and caught the two in the midst of a tearful parting. Furious, he sentenced Guinevere to die the very next day and banished Lancelot from the land immediately.”
I gasped at hearing of such cruelty, but I didn’t interrupt Ambrose again.
“Distraught, Guinevere watched from the tower window as her soul mate left Camelot without her. Despair fell upon her, and she prepared for death. The next day, Arthur’s men arranged a pyre in the courtyard and prepared to burn the queen as an adulteress. Just as they were ready to cinch her to the post, Lancelot rode through the yard and stole her away. Together the two rode to the Joyous Guard, a magically protected place far beyond the reach of Arthur and his court. It was the home of Lancelot’s family.”
“And there they were happy forever?”
“No, they were not. Soul mates are rarely given happiness, Susanna Serene. It is the price they pay for their love. The only thing they can do is love one another during the time they have together.”
I felt my skin crawl. It had begun to rain; steady fat drops tapped on the roof of the gazebo. Thankfully, the ivy vines kept the rain from dripping on our heads. It felt cold outside now—so different than before. With a lump in my throat, I stood up and looked down at him. “Why do you tell me this story?”
“You wanted to know who they were. Don’t think I have forgotten about my prize.” Like a lazy cat, he reached for a chicken leg and began to chew. Without a word, I poured him wine and cut his apple before I began to eat my own.
I said, “You can have my parasol since you want it so much.”
“That is not what I want, but if it is all I can get…”
I felt my face flush. I rose to my feet, glaring at him. “I have been talked to commonly before, Ambrose, but I did not expect it to come from you.” What kind of woman did he think I was—a harlot?
He put down the food and wiped his hands with a linen cloth. “Do you think me a low person, my lady?”
“I did not, until now. I think I should go, Ambrose. Would you mind taking me back to Sugar Hill, or should I row myself?”
“In the rain? All that lovely hair and your new frock will be completely ruined by the time we make it to shore.” His voice had a serious tone, and I listened to reason. “Come sit in your chair, my dear. I promise not to speak so again to you. It’s just that…it is not easy.”
“What do you mean?”
“Don’t ask me to say more.”
We sat in silence for a while eating our food. Maybe I had thought too harshly of him. Perhaps a change of subject was in order. “I think a ghost wants to kill me, Ambrose.”
“What?” he said, wiping his hands on his napkin.
“The ghost of my mother-in-law is in the house. She hates me and wants me to leave. She whispers to me when Chase is away. I think if she could, she would kill me.” Tears hung in my eyes, and relief washed over me. It was good to tell someone. Maybe someone who would believe me. “Am I going mad?”
“Never, you are not mad. In a house like that, with all the things I know about my family, it would not surprise me if there were many ghosts lurking about. All the more reason for me to tell you the truth.”
“Truth?” I said, wiping away the tears. Ambrose handed me a clean handkerchief, and I patted my cheeks with it. “What truth?”
He began to pace the gazebo slowly. “Plea
se do not hate me. But I have some things to say to you. I have such a respect for you, truly, I do. And I love my cousin as if he were my own brother. No, I should keep quiet. I have no right to tell you this. Forgive me, Susanna.” He pulled a cigarette out of his pocket and walked to the farthest bench. With his foot on the bench, he bent forward and stared out over the water. He lit his cigarette and smoked as he watched the raindrops splash on the pond. There was hurt in his dark eyes, and somehow I had caused it.
“Ambrose, I forgive you for whatever you think you have done. I do swear. Let us talk of it no more. Once this rain stops, we can fish some more and enjoy our day together.”
“I am afraid not, my lady. We can never fish together or even see each other again after today. It is best this way.”
I felt the air still around me. “Why? I have forgiven you for whatever offense you imagine. What do you mean?” I felt desperate. The idea of having no friend at all in the world filled me with a new fear.
A fear of being alone. Dying alone.
I tried to catch my breath. I sat down beside him and looked up at him as he stared out across the pond.
In a pained voice he said, “You know my secret now, Susanna Serene. You know that I love you. I have loved you since the ball. I love you like Lancelot loved Guinevere, and I am doomed to love you forever. For you see, my lady, you are my soul mate. There can be no one but you. I am tied to you forever.” As he said those words I felt goose flesh rise on my arms. I shivered and held my breath as he continued, “If I cannot have you, then I must be satisfied to love you from afar. I will love you always, but this has to stop. I cannot torture myself another day.” He untied his cravat and let it dangle around his neck as he puffed on his cigarette and then tossed it away angrily. I stared at his lips, wondering what it would be like to kiss them just once. Just once and then no more. Was he my soul mate?
“No, Ambrose! You have to know that I forgive you for feeling such things. Come, sit beside me.” I patted the cushion, the feeling of desperation rising tremendously by the second. “I need my friend. Who will I have if not you?”
“You have your Arthur, and he will be home soon, my lady. Tomorrow, I hear. And he’s coming home for as long as it takes to plant his seed in your belly. That is his father’s command. Did you know that? I cannot say I blame him, but I cannot stay here knowing what he intends. Knowing that you two…”
Fully agitated now, he walked out into the rain and was drenched in just a few seconds. The weather was so odd. The sun was shining, but the rain fell and soft thunder rattled somewhere close by. “I must go, Susanna. Forgive me. I will send Lemuel back with the boat.”
Not knowing what I intended to do, I pursued him in the rain. “No! You cannot leave me. I will not allow it.”
He stepped closer, the rain pouring down his proud, hurt face. His lips were bright red, his skin pale, his dark brows and eyes even darker than usual. Ambrose was taller than Chase; most would not notice the slight difference, but I did. “Then say it, Susanna. Say it!” he whispered as he stood close to me without touching me. I hovered at the center point of agony and desire. How close those two things were, and I had never known it!
“What do you want me to say, Ambrose?” I shivered in the sunlight, feeling magic swirl in the air. I recognized this kind of magic. It was love-magic, like Sulli’s. The tricky kind that could kill you, if you weren’t careful. As inexperienced as I was in the ways of love, I understood that this was a rare moment and I had to grasp it, make it my own, use the magic to take what I wanted. What I truly wanted. I could do that. I could make my own choice—just this once!
“Tell me I am your soul mate, my lady. Name me that, my love, and that will be enough. Give me that, and I will leave you in peace. Say you are mine forever, Susanna.”
I felt tears in my eyes. I gasped in surprise at the desire that welled up inside me like a newly released spring, but my mind screamed no! I finally understood what Sulli meant when she talked about “dancing on the blade of a knife.” Here I was, dancing away.
Chase! What do I do? I love you! But I love Ambrose, too!
“If you don’t say it, we will be doomed to live this life without one another. Is that what you want, to doom us, Susanna?”
“No,” I whispered, blinking away the clear rain from my eyelashes. “But I am someone else’s wife. I took a vow, Ambrose. How can I break my vow without falling under a curse? Is that what you want? If you loved me truly, you would not ask me this.”
“Then I am doomed to walk this earth alone,” he said seriously, the rain splashing off his handsome face. “Goodbye then, Susanna.” He stood a hand’s width from me now. He stepped back again. I could see his pale skin through his soaked shirt, and I was nearly drenched as well. The sun was disappearing quickly. The moment was fading. It would soon pass me by.
In an agonizing moment, I not only spoke the words but shouted them. “You are my soul mate, Ambrose.” With them came both relief and sorrow. We flew into one another’s arms immediately. I felt him heave a sigh. We kissed on the shore, unafraid that others might be watching.
Let them see!
Ambrose carried me into the gazebo. I was a bundle of wet skirts and damp strings of hair. He pulled out a hidden blanket from a box under one of the benches and wrapped me in it to dry me. He must have secreted it on the boat somehow. I tried not to think about the evidence of his premeditation. This was right and real. The skies had darkened now from the storm, and the light dimmed, making our sinful intentions less sinister. The thick ivy that grew on the gazebo hid us from the prying eyes of anyone who cared to look. Lightning popped and illuminated my shivering body. We did not speak but merely held one another for a long time.
“My Susanna, my love.”
I kissed his neck and lay on his cold shoulder. “Ambrose,” I whispered. Unable to keep still and feeling bold, I unlaced my gown as he watched me with a surprised look. I knew my body was nice to look at. Chase enjoyed seeing me parade about in my thin gowns. The cold air made me shiver, and I longed for Ambrose to warm me. When he had seen enough, he undressed himself. He had an attractive body, with warm hands and an attentive mouth. He quickly proved that he was a skilled lover. I wept as I clung to him, fully embracing his attentions. There was no one else in the world but Ambrose and Susanna.
When we had indulged one another until we were satisfied, I lay beside him on the blanket, naked and uncaring who might see us or find us. We were soul mates. This was how it should be, but Chase must never know. I did not know what Ambrose intended for us, but I would follow his lead. Because now we were one.
We finished off the wine, Ambrose found one last dry cigarette, and we made love again. He stroked my arm and played with my hair as we lay together the rest of the afternoon. Then I slipped into blissful sleep. It was a relief that I did not hear whispering or feel the presence of evil. For one brief moment, I was completely happy. Just as I had thought I would be with Chase before I came to Sugar Hill.
I woke to the sound of someone calling my name. It was at some distance, but the voice sounded frantic.
Where am I?
My head pounded, and I realized that I was lying on a twisted blanket on the dirty floor of the gazebo. Panicked now, I whispered for Ambrose. I heard nothing but the voice calling in the distance and the splashing of a turtle or a fish in the pond. The rain had ceased, and the air was warm and heavy with perfumes from the nearby flower gardens. I whispered again and waited.
Ambrose was gone.
He had left me in the gazebo. How long ago? What time was it now? It was well after dark, and biting bugs were beginning to circle me. Yes, he was gone—as were my clothes. In a panic, I crawled around the gazebo floor and searched with my hands. I found nothing. Not a slip or a skirt.
Why, Ambrose? Twisting the dirty blanket around me, I covered myself and searched again for my things. I found nothing. The only thing my lover had left behind was the basket of forgotten food and an empty bott
le of wine.
And an unfaithful left-hand wife.
PART THREE
Chapter Fourteen – Avery
At some point I dozed off, and when the phone rang I felt as if I had been robbed of about six good hours of sleep. It had been a long time since I had a house phone. I don’t know why I hadn’t spotted it the night before, but now I was very much aware that it was there and demanding my attention.
“Yes? Hello?”
“Good morning, Avery. I’m sorry to call you so early.”
“Who is this?”
The caller paused as if I should have known who she was. “This is Summer. I have some bad news to pass on. Aunt Anne passed away a few minutes ago. Reed and I would like to come by in about an hour, if that’s okay?”
Sadness washed over me. I had so many questions, and despite the reams of journals and the stack of dusty videotapes, I was sure there were things that only Miss Anne could tell me. Especially about Vertie and my parents. That wasn’t going to happen now. “Of course, Summer. That would be fine. And I am sorry to hear about Miss Anne. You two come on when you like.”
“Thanks. We’ll be there soon.” She hung up, and I sat up in the bed, slinging my wild blond hair out of my face. I blinked against the sunlight that was streaming in through the windows. Despite the sad news, the sun had come up. Life always went on. It didn’t care who you left behind. I flung the comforter back and then gasped. I had closed those blinds last night. Now they were open. Every one of them.
What the heck? I stomped to the door and pressed the button on the call box.
“Good morning. Would you like some breakfast, ma’am?”
“Yes, and I expect two guests. I’ll be down in about thirty minutes, if I can find the dining room. This is Robin, right?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Wife of the Left Hand (Sugar Hill Book 1) Page 13