A Grave Inheritance

by Kari Edgren

  “Amelia is known for being difficult. If anything I would say she was taking your measure.”

  “She practically accused me of using my bosom to steal Henry away from her.”

  “Perhaps,” he said. “Or maybe she was testing to see if there was any mettle in your spine.”

  I sighed and shook my head. “Amelia meant to embarrass me and I’ve you to thank for stopping her. Hopefully, you will not soon regret your efforts on my behalf.”

  “Never,” he said, with such sincerity that I glanced at him for a brief moment before returning my attention to the card table.

  Henry had taken a seat opposite Amelia. The cards were dealt once the other couple joined them, but from my vantage point Henry appeared to have little interest for the game. In between turns, his gaze left the table, returning to where Julian and I stood on the balcony.

  Amelia’s smug expression left little doubt to her present mood. And why would she not be happy? Henry was inside playing cards while I was outside sulking. Good gracious! Didn’t she realize that his company came from obligation? She may have won a small skirmish tonight, but I had already won the war. So why did I feel so awful?

  Though out of earshot, I watched Amelia chat with the other players and onlookers. Henry seemed the only one disinterested in the conversation. That is, until Amelia said something that caused a loud burst of laughter. Lady and Lord Percival each turned in their chairs to look at me, clearly amused. More people were now glancing toward the balcony, their faces gleeful. Realization dawned quickly, turning my stomach to lead.

  “Julian,” I said, my throat nearly too tight for words. “Will you please take me home?”

  He didn’t hesitate. “Wait here. I’ll inform Lady Dinley so she’ll not worry.”

  Julian stepped from the shadows into the room. I followed despite his request, unwilling to stay a minute longer in Amelia’s apartments. Setting my shoulders, I crossed the room, my eyes focused straight ahead. At the door, a young lady caught my attention, lifted a hand to her mouth and giggled. I brushed by her, not stopping until I was in the courtyard.

  Lanterns burned on every wall, illuminating the stone pavers underfoot and wide graveled path that led to the main gate. Bathed in soft yellow light, I balled my hands into tight fists and struggled to steady my breath. Hot tears stung my eyes, but I blinked them away.

  A moment later Julian arrived at my side. “This way,” he said. Taking my arm, he led me away from the main gate and waiting carriages.

  I quickened my stride to match his pace. “Where are we going?”

  He didn’t answer and I was about to ask again when we passed a large hedge marking the entrance to a garden. Julian stopped and looked back toward the palace. I turned just as Henry appeared in the doorway.

  My first instinct was to return to the courtyard. I attempted a step, but Julian held fast to my arm. “Do you really want to talk to him after what just happened?”

  His words brought me up short. “What do you mean?”

  “Let’s just say that if you were to be my wife, I would never have allowed anyone to amuse themselves at your expense. Not even a princess.”

  My heart constricted painfully. From the shelter of the hedge, I watched Henry glance back and forth, searching the courtyard, then take off at a run toward the direction of the gate. “But he’s looking for me.”

  “That does not make up for his earlier conduct.”

  “You don’t understand. Henry has to be nice to her so the king will release him from the betrothal contract.” And not arrest me in the meantime. “I’m sure he was no more pleased with her behavior than I was.”

  “So he was right to hold his tongue and let his friends mock you.” He gave a curt laugh. “Can you honestly say that you do not feel the least bit betrayed by his indifference?”

  I wanted to protest, to argue further that Henry had no other option. The words wouldn’t come though, and I finally shook my head, knowing that Julian was right. Henry had let me down, had stood by in my time of need. Tears trickled from the corner of my eyes, wetting my cheeks before dropping to the ground. Julian placed a hand under my chin and gently lifted my face. Producing a linen handkerchief from a coat pocket, he started to dry my cheeks.

  “I am very sorry you had to go through that tonight,” he said. “More than anything else, their rudeness is a reflection of their own hearts. Never doubt that you are worth more than all of them put together.”

  Deep down, I knew he spoke the truth. The other guests had proven ill-mannered fops, hardly worth my contempt. Even so, it still hurt to be laughed at, especially by those who considered themselves to be Henry’s friends. And then there was Henry, too occupied as Amelia’s milksop to pay heed to my distress. I sniffed and brushed away a few new tears.

  Julian handed me the linen square. “You and Henry were fighting earlier, weren’t you?”

  “How did you know?”

  “I heard your interchange before Amelia so kindly invited me to settle the dispute over your finer attributes.” He paused for a moment to study my face in the little light offered by the rising moon. “You can trust me, Selah, if you wish to talk about it.”

  I let out a long breath. Julian was the only person I could trust with such a secret. “We fought about my gift. He...he called my power unnatural.”

  “That seems a sudden change. Did something happen?”

  “On our way home from the play last night, a boy was struck with the pox right outside Lady Dinley’s front door.” I considered telling him about the wretch from the docks, but decided to hold off so as not to sidetrack from Henry. “Since my power was gone from the Otherworld, I had to draw from my own life to heal the boy. Henry was angry with me for putting myself at risk and demanded that I not heal again until my power was restored.”

  “And you refused because you had no other choice,” Julian said, finishing my thought.

  “Yes, but he was still angry even after the basket arrived.”

  Julian’s eyes slid to the side. “From the front porch,” he murmured in a soft voice I had to strain to hear.

  “Of course from the front porch. Which other basket could I mean?” The man made it sound as though he often passed out baskets in the dead of night.

  “No other...” he rushed, looking back me. “What was inside?”

  I blinked at him. “Why are you asking me when you’re the one who put it there?”

  He shook his head in obvious confusion. “I’m afraid I don’t understand.”

  “But you sent it,” I said, growing increasingly exasperated by the interchange. “It had everything to cross over and keys to All Hallows by the Tower.”

  Julian started. “So that’s where it is. And all this time I’ve been searching Westminster Abbey.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “That the basket wasn’t from me, Selah. When I was young, my mother once spoke of an ancient altar in London that was rumored to be located in a church crypt, but I hadn’t thought to check All Hallows since it had been partially destroyed by a gunpowder explosion in the mid 1600s. I just assumed the crypts would have been buried and any altar demolished during the renovation.”

  I stared at him in disbelief. “Then who sent it?”

  “Another leath’dhia, someone who knew you had been at sea for months and would be in great need to crossover once you arrived. Really, the only people we can rule out for certain are your friends from the Colonies and Lord Fitzalan. It could even be the king for all we know.”

  I raced over each person from the past week. No one stood out except for the wretch, but she had tried to kill someone, so could not be a leath’dhia...

  “Selah,” Julian said, cutting into my thoughts. “I must know. Did you tell Henry about the altar?”

  “Of course I d
id. He helped me find it.”

  “So I feared.” Frowning, he gazed up at the clear night sky, at the half risen moon and profusion of shimmering stars. The air had grown noticeably cooler. I shivered and wrapped my arms around myself.

  “You’ve nothing to fear from Henry,” I said. “He would never betray our secret.”

  Julian sighed and looked back at me. “Can you not see it? Henry is no different than my father. Once your power proved inconvenient, he declared it to be unnatural. He will never understand you.”

  “No—” I started when Julian surprised me by placing a finger over my lips.

  “Please do not try to defend him to me, Selah. Not tonight, not after what he did to you.”

  I remained silent, lacking the conviction to argue Henry’s virtues.

  Lowering his finger from my mouth, Julian found one of my hands and laced his fingers through mine. “You have not yet asked about my gift. Would you like to know what I inherited from Brigid?”

  “I assumed your gift was the same as mine.”

  Julian laughed. “Our first mother was the goddess of many things.” He pulled me with him deeper into the garden. “She was the goddess of healing and fertility, of poetry and smithcraft.” Stopping for a moment, he let go of my hand and then disappeared behind several large bushes. “And she was the goddess of agriculture.”

  “Where are you going?” I asked, following after him.

  “Our dear Queen Caroline is a romantic at heart. She had several types of berries planted in one of the more secluded gardens with the idea that her courtiers could spend leisurely afternoons feeding each other fruit. Sort of like the garden of Eden if you ask me.”

  He came to a stop, knelt down in the grass next to a cluster of plants and rummaged through the foliage. “Here we are.” He stood and I glimpsed something small between two fingers.

  “What is that?” I asked.

  “Alas, a dried-up strawberry, stunted in its youth and left to die on the vine once summer passed.”

  He put the berry in his palm and held it closer for my inspection. I stared unblinking at the small dark spot against his fair skin. A few seconds passed when it began to take new form, growing to about the size of an acorn.

  I looked at him, astounded. “How did you do that?”

  “It only takes a seed. With Brigid’s power, I can grow anything to maturity.” He pulled the stem and held the strawberry to my mouth. “Taste it, I promise you’ll not be disappointed.”

  Biting down, the berry released the sweetest, most intense juice I had ever known. “It’s delicious,” I said, breathless. The berry disappeared in another bite and I was left wishing for more.

  Julian allowed his finger to linger, lightly tracing a line along the curve of my lower lip. “You see, Selah, our gifts may vary, but we are the same.” His voice had grown lower as his hand slipped down my neck to rest on the bare skin. “We are meant to be together.”

  With the sweetness of strawberry still on my tongue, Julian leaned closer and touched his lips to mine. Surprised by his actions, I didn’t resist, didn’t even think to pull away.

  “I would treat you like the goddess you are,” Julian murmured, pulling me closer to fully claim my mouth.

  My thoughts became a blur. Julian was kissing me not like a brother, or even a dear friend. He was kissing my like a lover and from what I could tell, I was kissing him back. It took a moment for my senses to catch up. I love Henry...not Julian.

  “No,” I said, moving my head away despite his hold on my neck. “I can’t.”

  “Henry doesn’t deserve you.” He leaned forward to kiss me again.

  My hands shot up and pushed against his chest. “Don’t, Julian, this isn’t right. I love Henry.”

  “But he is not leath’dhia. You were never meant to be together.” Julian closed his hands around mine and held them tightly against him. “Give me time, Selah. You will learn to love me even more than you could ever love Lord Fitzalan.”

  I shook my head. “I’m sorry if I led you on in any way, but my heart belongs to Henry and I’m going to marry him as soon as the betrothal is cancelled with Amelia.”

  Dropping my hands, he took a small step back. “Have you already forgotten what he called your power? He thinks you are unnatural. How long will it take before he casts you off just as my father did to my mother?”

  “Henry would never do that to me.”

  “How can you defend him after tonight? Clearly, Amelia and his friends mean more than you. On my honor, I’ve never seen more despicable behavior from a gentleman.”

  His words struck at my heart. “Please don’t, Julian. You’ll not change my mind about Henry. I know he loves me.” I was crying again, this last part coming out as a sob.

  Julian reached for my arm. “When will you stop denying the truth and see the man for what he really is?”

  I tried to wrench my arm free, but Julian’s grip held fast. “Let go of me.”

  “So you can run back to Henry?”

  “That’s none of your concern.” In a few short breaths, my despair turned to anger, simmering precariously close to the surface.

  “I’ll be damned if I stand by and watch you be hurt by a selfish brute with no thought for anyone beyond himself.”

  Anger shot through me and before I knew what was happening, heat surged down my arm. Julian yanked his hand away, stumbled back several steps. I stared at him, too mad to give any consideration to what I had just done.

  “Don’t do this,” he said, reaching for me again.

  “Leave me alone!” I turned and started to run, guided by nothing more than my desire to be well away from Julian and his hateful words. The dark outlines of trees and shrubs loomed on every side, some grabbing at my skirts whenever I veered too close. Passing beneath a hanging arbor, I ran farther into the garden, too angry to even look back. More fool Julian if he tries to follow me

  When he next spoke, his voice sounded far away. “I’ll be in the carriage when you’ve calmed down. Please don’t do anything rash.”

  A large tree stood in my path. Panting for breath, I leaned against the thick trunk to catch my breath. Ballocks! Why had I insisted on being laced so tightly tonight? A few minutes passed before my heart slowed and I could breathe again. My anger had burned itself out, leaving me cold inside for the lack of searing heat.

  And then the truth hit me.

  Oh, dear God, what have I done?

  The answer was terrifying. For the first time in my life, I had used my power to harm another person. Until tonight, I hadn’t known it could even be used for anything other than healing. But there was no denying the blinding rage that had come out of nowhere, hot as fire and all consuming. My only thought, if it could even be considered such, was to be free of Julian. His harsh words were too much and I had to get away. Why couldn’t he see that? Why did he have to insist on restraining me against my will?

  I slumped against the tree, overwhelmed by the magnitude of my sins. The power to heal was a sacred gift from Brigid. And that gift had been despoiled the moment I used it against Julian. At the very least, I could expect to be severely censured, perhaps forbidden to heal and barred from entering the Otherworld for a period of time. But even this would be a blessing compared to the other alternative—a full forfeiture of my birthright.

  With this last thought, my mind slipped into a state of detached shock, unable to process even the most basic emotions. There were no tears or accusations, no curses for the blistering temper that had finally gotten the best of me. All I wanted was to be back in my room, buried under a mound of blankets. Sleep offered the surest escape from my problems, a remedy so simple, yet entirely unattainable while I was stuck in this blasted garden.

  No matter how much I wanted to be home, I lacked the heart to face anyone else toni
ght, not Henry or Amelia or any of the guests bound to be milling about the courtyard or at the front gate waiting for carriages. Most of all, I could not face Julian. He knew my crime, may even have been wounded by my actions. Tired as I was, I would walk home before seeking him out.

  I pushed away from the tree and set off in search of a way to escape undetected. Before long, gravel crunched beneath my heels, indicating that I had stumbled upon a path. Content that I was still moving away from Julian and the main gate, I continued along the path until it had turned so many times, I would have been lost if not for the massive bulk of the palace. It now loomed straight ahead, dark and foreboding despite the candles that glowed in several of the windows. The path veered again, leading toward an adjacent wing where I caught sight of a passageway, the space beyond lit with burning lanterns. After roaming the grounds at random for so long, this offered the first hopeful sign. Walking forward, I found myself at the edge of another courtyard.

  A man stepped in front of me. “Who goes there?” he asked. He was dressed in the king’s uniform, a sword at his side.

  I recognized his face from my first trip to the palace. “Hello Peter, it’s Miss Kilbrid. I was here with Lady Dinley the other night.”

  His expression softened. “Yours is not a name I’d soon forget, miss. What are you doing wandering about on your own?”

  “I was at Princess Amelia’s party and got lost in the garden.” It was mostly the truth.He fell silent for a moment as he studied my face. “By chance, were you trying to avoid the other guests, miss?”

  My breath hitched. “How did you know?”

  “Word travels faster than fire in the palace. I heard you had a rough go with the princess.”

  He sounded so understanding that I didn’t try to hide the truth. “She purposefully embarrassed me in front of her friends.”

  “I’ve seen it happen before,” he said. “The princess has a sharp tongue for sure, but I’ll wager she’s the one left smarting from Lord Fitzalan’s rebuke. The man can be terrifying when in a rage.”

  I didn’t recall Henry rebuking anyone, least of all Amelia. “What do you mean?”