by Claudy Conn
Mary smiled warmly at Jacob, “Yes, indeed, I enjoyed myself immensely that evening, my husband often tells me how much he misses your father. I think they had many friends in common. I am so pleased you have decided to return to Cressly Towers. I suppose you have quite an undertaking after being away so long.”
“Indeed,” Sir Jacob said and jumped right in. “It is why I have been trying to persuade Miss Radley to visit at the Towers and exercise one of my horses. They have all gone to fat in my absence; while my friends and I are taking turns with most of them, we can’t get to all of them as they need.”
“Exercise your horse? Miss Radley?” Mary Horwich said doubtfully.
“Yes, up at the Towers stables. We have an exercise ring, so she will be perfectly safe.”
“Don’t you have grooms and such to help you with that?” Mary frowned as she cast Exerilla a glance.
“We did, my estate manager is in the process of hiring back the two able grooms I was stupid enough to lose after my father passed. I wasn’t sure I wanted to continue breeding horses you see, but when I came home…” he shook himself and a slow smile crept over his face. “I suppose it came to me…all of it, what my father and grandfather before him saw and felt when they produced a racing champion.” He smiled warmly at her, “The fitter the mare the better. I think Miss Radley will enjoy getting back into the saddle.”
“Yes, but, up at the Towers?” Mary Horwich frowned. “I don’t know if that would be seemly.”
“No, no, I misspoke. She would visit as far as the Towers stables…quite a distance from the house and of course, Miss Radley is welcome to bring anyone she likes as chaperone.”
Mary bit her bottom lip, “This is so very nice of you, for Exerilla shouldn’t be cooped up here in the house all the time, but, I am not certain the squire would approve.”
“I assure ye, Mrs. Horwich, no harm will come to Miss Radley at the Towers, and she will be out in the open…riding,” Lord MacTorry offered.
“Yes, that is true; you could take my old gelding Exerilla. He is a gentle soul and can easily do the 3 or 4 miles to the Tower and back.”
“There then it is settled,” Sir Jacob said hurriedly. “I expect to see my mare being worked tomorrow, Miss Radley, what say you?”
“Fine, I see I am being swept away,” Exerilla said on a laugh.
They soon took their leave, with Jerry oddly quiet and looking slyly at his lordship under Exerilla’s all-seeing eyes. She wondered what that was all about, when Mary Horwich said, “Ah, here is the squire and what he will say to this, I don’t know.” She fidgeted with her dress until the squire strode inside and surprised her by saying “Met that young Sir Jacob on the front step. Likeable lad said I must come by for a wine tasting party he is throwing for a few of his father’s friends. Said, he’ll make me a gift of a few bottles from his father’s wine cellar. Thanked me for letting Miss Radley come by and work his horses.” He glared at Exerilla. “I’m glad you mean to make yourself useful while you are here, but I hope you know what you are doing. I don’t want any harm to come to one of Sir Jacob’s prime blood at your hands.” So saying, he reached for and took away the Dover Chronicle his wife had in her hands and said, “I’ll be in my study.” Off he went and Exerilla’s eyes narrowed as she watched him leave. He was even more unlikeable as time moved forward. What had Mary ever seen in him?
How he had snagged such a fine woman, like Mary was beyond her. She looked toward Mary who had a resigned look on her face as she sighed and got up to fetch a small tapestry she had been working on.
Exerilla moved away and blinked, once again using simple magic to reproduce a copy of the newspaper and said, “OH look what I have just found! One of the gentlemen must have left this behind,” she pushed it at Mary. “Go ahead, have a read, I’m sure they won’t miss it or mind.” A voice in her head told her she was using too much magic. If she wasn’t careful, her father might find her; especially if she continued to rely on her magic.
~ Nine ~
EXERILLA SMOOTHED HER hands over her dark brown velvet riding habit as she took the stairs. She tripped over the train which may have been high fashion, but she thought with a grimace was not practical for walking. The riding skirt had been designed for a side saddle, with a train to fashionably spread around the horse, but it was going to break her neck if she wasn’t careful.
She now realized what the buttons at her hips were for and bent to hook up the train. This done, she made her way down the remaining stairs, down the hall and to the open sitting room door.
She caught her reflection in the gilt framed mirror hanging over a sidewall table and adjusted the white lace collar of her shirt. This done, she twirled a long black curl around each ear as she placed and centered the brown matching velvet top hat on her head. She had attempted to style her hair to fit the times, and was fairly satisfied with the results. She smiled at the girly girl look of twirling thick curls as they cascaded down her back. Women of these times must spend an enormous time on their looks. Thank goodness she was able to accomplish the look with a flick of the wrist. This made her want to giggle, but she restrained herself.
She glanced at her shining black boots and knew why she had gone to so much trouble with her appearance. Shame on you, she told herself. You want to look good for Scotty blue eyes.
It was a truth she couldn’t deny.
You probably won’t even see him, Xie girl. No doubt, he is out and about town, flirting up every woman he comes across. What did she care? And yet, she found this a depressing thought. She shoved it out of her mind and with a sigh, pulled on her kid gloves. They were new, as was everything in her wardrobe; she realized she was going to have to break them in. At least the leather was soft and comfortable.
Loud voices suddenly came to her ears and she turned and realized someone was with the squire in his study down the hall. She shouldn’t eavesdrop. “Damnation, David!”
“Don’t bluster at me, Father. I mean to handle this my way.” David spoke softly, the edge of grim determination lining his voice.
Exerilla hadn’t seen him since the night she had arrived. She was surprised to find that he was fully capable of standing up to his odious father.
Handle it your way?” the squire raged. “You’re too bloody involved! Your way is neither safe nor appropriate. At this point I no longer care for the profit!”
“Don’t you? Then you needn’t take your share. Mark me, Father; we will be cautious because I am not a fool.”
To Exerilla, David’s voice though low and in control it sounded emotional as well.
“So you say, but I don’t hold with this. It was a pleasant thing now and again, but you have taken it to a level I cannot abide!” the squire shouted.
“Fire and Brimstone, Father--lower your voice,” David cut him off.
Exerilla knew it was time to make her exit before she was discovered. Just what were these two up to? It really didn’t have anything to do with her. All she had to do was coast until Samhain and then she would be able to go home. She wouldn’t even have to enact a spell. Her mother had already taken care of that with the pendant she wore around her neck.
A moment after midnight on Samhain, she would automatically return home. Her father would no longer be able to compel her. She would be a powerful white witch.
She couldn’t wait. She turned and hurried for the door. The hem of her skirt’s train became unattached and she tripped over its length once more. She went flying into the front door. She stretched out her arms and managed to catch herself with a hard thump, followed by a grunt. Hoping no one had heard her, she began fastening the train back on her hip.
David stuck his head out into the hallway, spied her fumbling with the train of her skirt and came out to ask, “Are you all right?”
“Yes, yes, my skirt is a bit long, and it won’t stay hooked up.”
“Here, let me have a look at that,” he said taking the hem up and saying, “Ah, the button eyelet is a bit small,�
� he worked the button into it and said, “There. Now you are properly attached,” his voice held amusement as he stood back to survey her. Suddenly his face changed, his voice changed and he almost gasped as he uttered, “You are stunning, Exerilla.” His dark gray eyes raked over her and took on warmth.
She saw his look of appreciation, but chose to ignore it. “Stunning?” she chuckled, “Thank you, you are most kind to say so,” she answered suddenly wanting to escape his scrutiny.
“Off to the Towers?”
So, he knew about her arrangement with Sir Jacob, she thought, mildly surprised. “Yes, I am anxious to see how much horse I will have under me.”
“I am not worried about the horse; I have every confidence that you will handle that blood just fine. It is the three bachelors currently residing there that worries me.”
“No need to worry, I am very used to taking care of myself.”
“Indeed, but our connection I think, gives me the privilege to concern myself for your safety.”
She didn’t like this or where it was going. “You are most thoughtful and I appreciate your concern, but I am certain that Sir Jacob will behave respectably in my regard.”
“I am not concerned about Sir Jacob, but I am concerned about his guests.”
“You shouldn’t be. They know that I am under your father’s protection and that gives me a connection to you, thus I feel quite safe.” She said this for it was obvious to her that David’s ego was larger than his fathers.
He smiled appreciatively and inclined his head, “You will be back in time to enjoy High Tea with us?”
“Yes of course.”
“I shall expect you by then.” He answered with a show of authority. He opened the front door, holding it wide for her.
She had to come very close to him to pass through the doorway. “Or, I shall come and fetch you home,” he told her a light in his eyes making her feel uncomfortable.
She met his clear gray eyes with a straight forward look. “That is very thoughtful of you, David. It is a comfort to know you are concerned for my safety.” She wasn’t going to put up with this, but she wasn’t ready to go at it with him just then. She wanted out. She had a sudden urge to run. Life in 1815 was getting complicated. She was going to have to stand up to David Horwich as well, but before she did, she needed to know more about him.
* * *
In a Realm unlike any other, more an island, than a world, situated on a knoll of gray weeds and leafless knawel trees, sat an ancient castle. Its outward appearance was foreboding, its interior even more so; and to all that possessed magic, it spelled the very darkest most forbidden magic.
The being that created it felt at home there. It was where he did his best thinking and planning. Had she left Hunter’s father and gone with him, he would have made it a place of bright comforts, just for her.
That however, had not happened.
He had taken up residence here because this was the one place Hunter would not find him. He was in a trapped time zone where he could go back or forward in time with ease. No one could track him here, not even Hunter MacTorry.
The Wizard MacTorry had absorbed just enough dark magic to make him the most dangerous enemy he would ever have. Baudali knew he had to find a way to destroy him.
The human woman, Exerilla was the key.
He had to find just the right moment and he would be able to use her.
First he had to watch and be certain.
He hated Hunter for what he had done. He had not enjoyed killing Hunter’s mother again. The first time, it had been quick…and then it was over, but this time, because of Hunter’s interference, she had suffered. Baudali had not thought he could experience such grief, and it was all Hunter’s fault. Hunter had to die with his brother Ferrell, there wasn’t much time left to plan.
The Wizard Baudali stood in his black cone hat and matching black wizard’s robe, both embellished with silver threads, contemplating the crystal orb on his glass table. He was thoughtful, wary, and determined as he stared through the orb at the scene taking place at Cressly Towers where his target presently resided.
Baudali sighed irritably for he knew that he had erred the first time. He had killed only the younger son Ferrell. He should have made it his business to strike Hunter MacTorry down first and then the other.
It had not occurred to him at the time. Hunter had been away, traveling dimensions when Baudali had executed his design against his parents. He had posed as a friend took them by surprise. They never stood a chance.
He closed his eyes, as the thought of her always brought vivid three dimensional images floating before his eyes. She had meant so much to him. He had not felt that way since he first saw and coveted his twin brother, Rysdale’s mate.
He had even given her the choice, to die or come with him and be his mate.
She had chosen to die with her husband.
So it was, he had struck them down as one, albeit he had softened the blow to her. He had made her unconscious as he swung his sword and dislodged their heads from their bodies.
Ferrell was next, but he was a warrior and surprised him by coming home just as Baudali had finished his kill.
Ferrell came after him and found Hunter who joined him in the hunt.
Hunter never gave it up, but Ferrell did, taking out his frustrations by working on Wellington’s staff.
Baudali bided his time.
The Battle of Waterloo arrived and he was able to shift in and kill Ferrell in one fell swoop of his Death Sword and like his parents he was beheaded.
This created a ferocious, tenacious adversary…Hunter MacTorry. Who would have thought he would think to go back in time?
So be it.
He clicked his tongue over his error, and said to the spider on his shoulder, “See what comes of leaving loose ends. Hunter MacTorry is a worthy adversary who we must eliminate and soon, before Waterloo if we can.”
He had glanced away from the orb as his thoughts had taken hold, but suddenly a movement within the orb showed him a rider.
A female rider arriving at the Cressly stables. Such a beautiful human creature, what a shame she would have to die.
“Well, well,” Baudali said to himself and his thick, dark grey brows drew together. “Indeed, she will be the key.”
* * *
Hunter watched Jerry Swit mount his horse and wondered what was really taking the man to town. Idly, he sidled over to Jerry’s horse and patted the animal’s neck.
“Ye surprise me, Swit m’man.”
“Do I? Why?”
“The Radley chit is due here today. Doona ye mean to stay around and work on winning the lass and the wager?” He grinned, “Or do ye concede?”
Swit chuckled and shook his head, “I’ll have her when I’m ready, make no mistake, wager or no.”
“Ah, will ye? Doona forget, I’m watching ye, Jerry,” his lordship warned. As he turned away he paused and casually asked, “So what is so important that ye have to hurry off?”
“Mean to have a look in at Jacob’s yacht. I told the lad I would meet him there this afternoon, as he might need a little help with setting it to rights.”
“This brings me to m’next question. Why all the interest in his yacht? Ye seem more than just a bit excited aboot it, and the truth is, I remember ye telling me when we first met that ye doona swim or sail.”
“There was a time when I did both very well,” Jerry said without scarcely blinking an eye. “You would do well to remember that I am a man of sport, and have a mastery of many.”
His lordship laughed and said on a taunt, “Do ye now—what of Faro?”
“Aye, and I will beat you at Faro very soon and I shall master that as well,” Swit snorted and then urged his horse forward.
“Ye haven’t managed it yet,” baited his lordship.
“Yet, my fine buck. The word is yet,” Jerry continued down the sandy drive.
His lordship looked after him and shouted, “Try and bring Jaco
b home sober.”
Swit turned around in his saddle and laughed before picking up his pace.
His lordship watched him for a long moment before he turned and walked back toward the Towers. He had something to do while both Swit and Jacob were away!
* * *
Exerilla shifted in her ladies’ side saddle. The only time she had ever used one was in a show some years ago. She had practiced and was determined to take a ribbon. Once she had won the ribbon, she had laid the side-saddle on its rack and promptly forgotten about it.
She much preferred riding astride, feeling the horse soundly between her legs. It just felt safer and the connection with her steed became stronger.
Women of this century really had a whole lot to overcome, she thought as she walked her horse along. She sure was going to be sore later on.
Less than a ten minute ride and with Mary Horwich’s directions, she found herself at a pair of black wrought iron gates which handsomely sported the gold lettering designating it as “Cressly Towers”.
A small, quaintly styled cottage flanked the right gate. An older, stout and baldish man appeared in its doorway. The gatekeeper wore a plaid waistcoat, and loose fitting breeches and he smiled as he said, “Aye then, ye must be Miss Radley. Sir Jacob, ‘e told me to send ye up to the stables. They ‘ave the mare all groomed and waiting on ye, they do.”
Exerilla smiled and thanked him before she proceeded to urge her horse through the wide opened gate.
She rode past a few men working the lawn along the driveway, apparently grooming the estate. Up ahead the Cressly Towers loomed impressively. Mary had told her it dated back to the Norman days. She wondered if any of the three gentlemen presently residing there were at home. Suddenly she felt a strong sensation, as though someone was watching her and she looked around. No one about, and yet…she felt as though she were in a glass bowl. What did that mean? Her mother had taught her so many things that she said she might experience one day, but she just couldn’t put a finger on it.