The Merlin Chronicles: Box Set (All Three Novels)

by Daniel Diehl

  “I think I’m lost. I have no idea who I should be talking to or what I should say to them.”

  “No worries.” She laid a reassuring hand on his arm and led him toward the big table in the center of the room. “First thing you need is a drink. Come on over here and we’ll fix you right up.” Threading Jason through the crowd, Phil rambled on. “Look, I’m nobody important, but I know everybody who is. I’ll point out the people you really need to talk to - Dukes and Earls and Duchesses - and introduce you to the ones that are interested in the work you’re doing up at York. Then, anytime you feel trapped, you just catch my eye and I’ll rescue you and lead you to the next one on the list. How’s that?” Handing Jason a glass of red wine, Phil smiled reassuringly.

  “I really appreciate it.”

  “Not a problem. Now, time for a quick tour of faces and names.” With that, she launched into a discourse that amounted to a Who’s Who of the guests, explaining who they were, what they did, how they were connected to the museum and whether they were somebody Jason should meet.

  “Who’s the fat man in the tail coat?” Jason asked when she paused for breath.

  “The one that looks like a penguin? That’s Casper Gutman. A real pompous boor and I don’t think I trust him. He donates a lot of expensive artifacts to the museum but I really don’t want to know where he gets them. But you don’t have to worry about him. He never funds anything. He just gives us stuff from his own collection.” Continuing in the same vein, she pointed out one person after another. Occasionally, she would drag Jason by the arm and introduce him to someone particularly important who was momentarily between conversations. Half an hour later Jason’s head was spinning. Wandering away from his most recent encounter with a middle-aged matron dripping with pearls, he strode toward the table to get a new drink and breathe easy for a few minutes. No sooner had he set his glass on the table than Phil’s cheery voice assailed him. “How you holding up, honey?”

  “I think I’m on overload. Are we done yet?” He looked at her pleadingly, holding his head down and peering through his eyebrows.

  “Only a couple more. Then you can split if you want too.”

  “Oh, good. Who’s next?”

  “Ok. I guess I was saving the worst till the last. You see that flashy woman over there?” She nodded with her head in the general direction of a group standing beneath a monumental Burne-Jones painting.

  “You mean the woman in the red dress?”

  “Yep. Oh, God, she has a purple scarf on, too. Where do these people learn their taste?” Jason almost choked on a mouthful of wine. “Anyway, that’s Lu Morgan.”

  “Lu?”

  “Short for Lucrezia, and believe me, she is just as much of a man-eater as Lucrezia Borgia ever was. And she really likes pretty boys, so you be careful, honey.” Phil chuckled between sips of wine.

  “Do I have to meet her?”

  “Oh, God, yes! Old money. And she has so much of it she makes the Queen look like a pauper. She funds archaeological digs big-time. Especially late Roman and Dark Age digs in Wales and the border counties. Very hot on Welsh culture and she has been on the board of the museum for donkey’s years.”

  “She can’t have been on the board all that long; she can’t be more than thirty-five.”

  “I don’t know how old she is, but she has been around long enough to be a power to reckon with. When that woman moves, you stand out of her way.”

  As though hearing their conversation from the opposite side of the room, the object of their attention turned toward Phil and Jason with a smile and headed in their direction. When she was only a single step away she spoke in a deep, richly musical Welsh accent.

  “Ooo, Phil, honey. Have you been keeping this lovely young man hidden from me all night?” Her wide-mouthed smile crept from ear to ear, giving her the appearance of a feral cat.

  “Hi, Lu. This is Jason Carpenter. He’s representing the University of York tonight.”

  “Oh? And where is that dear old Carver Daniels? I’ve been thinking about him all evening.”

  “Dr Daniels had a heart attack...” Jason began, but was cut off in mid-sentence.

  “Oh, that’s so sad! Is he going to be alright?”

  “He’ll be fine. He just couldn’t make it here and asked me to come in his place.” Jason suddenly felt more uneasy than ever - being stared at by this woman like he was a piece of meat on a butcher’s counter.

  “Phil, darling. You don’t mind if I steal this nice young man for a few moments, do you?”

  “I was just about to bring him over and introduce him to you, Lu.”

  As she steered Jason away, the woman smiled, first at Phil and then directly into Jason’s eyes.

  God, she has the most amazing purple eyes.

  “Now tell me, Jason Carpenter, were you part of the team that dug up any of the wonderful finds in the display? You know I’m very interested in archaeological work. It’s a little hobby of mine. I just love dredging up the past.”

  Glancing over his shoulder, Jason caught Phil roll her eyes toward the ceiling and plaster a big, artificial grin across her face.

  For the next forty-five minutes Jason tried, unsuccessfully, to find a polite way to break away from the woman, but the more they talked, the more he admitted to himself she was actually fascinating. Her Welsh accent was prettier than an Irish brogue, which he had always found very erotic. Her hair was rich and dark and her heart shaped face was as smooth and unlined as a teen-ager. He wondered how old she really was. Revising his first impression, Jason now decided Lu was a nice person. Maybe Phil was a little jealous of her looks and money.

  On and on they chatted, allowing the conversation to ramble from archaeological finds to the digs Jason had worked on. All the while, Lu encouraged him to tell her about the University of York, his friends and aspirations for the future. Between his nervousness at being confronted by a crowd of rich, important strangers and the claustrophobia of so many people in such a small space, Jason suddenly realized he probably drank too many glasses of wine. He didn’t think he had had more than three, but he couldn’t seem to remember clearly. By the time the crowd began to thin out, he had to consciously blink his eyes to keep his vision clear.

  “You look positively exhausted. Would you like me to drive you home?”

  “That’s really nice of you Ms Morgan...”

  “Lu, please.”

  “Right. Lu. But my hotel is only a few blocks away and I think the walk might do me good. It was nice of you to offer, though.”

  “Whatever you think. But at least you can walk with me to the front door.”

  “Ok.” Jason offered his arm in a drunkenly theatrical gesture of chivalry, but before he could navigate to the bottom of the staircase, he realized his feet were embarrassingly unsteady. Descending from the last step to the lobby floor, one foot became tangled behind the other and he almost tripped. “Phew.” He said, shaking his head, trying desperately to recover his balance and dignity.

  “You look a little pale, Jason. Are you sure you wouldn’t like me to drive you back to your hotel?”

  All of a sudden it took a concentrated effort to make his words come out clear and in the right order. “Sure. I mean, if it wouldn’t be any bother.”

  “My pleasure” she said, looping her arm through his and leading him out the door, past the uniformed guard and toward the parking lot across the street.

  As Lu guided him solicitously from the elevator toward the door of his room Jason wondered to himself why it had taken him so long to realize just how sexy this woman was. Her silky, dark hair; those incredible violet eyes, and an ass to die for. Straighten up Jason. You’re drunk. She’s just being nice.

  Stepping through the door, Jason tried to turn and thank Lu for giving him a ride, but somehow she had managed to get around him and into the room first. It took him an entire three hundred sixty degree turn to locate her and in so doing, he nearly lost his balance, careening clumsily to one side. The onl
y thing that kept him from toppling to the floor was Lucrezia Morgan’s restraining arms.

  “We’d better get you to bed, young man.”

  “Really. I’m ok.” Then, after a pause, “I think.”

  But by the time the words were out of his mouth, the woman already had Jason’s topcoat off and was unbuttoning his suit coat. A thick fog of sweaty, clammy desire crept over Jason as he watched Lou’s hands pull his jacket over his shoulders and let it drop to the floor. Now his peripheral vision was gone and he seemed to have lost the ability to move his feet. All he could do was stare, with rising excitement, as Lu Morgan loosened his tie and began unbuttoning his shirt. He tried to brush her hands away, mumbling to himself; all the while her purple eyes held his in a riveting, red-hot stare. Ignoring his feeble efforts to free himself, Lu pulled his shirt out of his pants. The only thing he could do was throw his head back and gasp. He could feel beads of perspiration gathering on his chest.

  Lu placed her hands against his stomach and slowly began running them up his tightly muscled chest. She let out a tiny moan of greedy pleasure as she stared at the smooth, young body, as hard and flat as an ironing board. Reaching up with one hand, Lu Morgan pulled Jason’s head down to meet her own, pressing her lips against his. Working her mouth, she muttered between hot breaths. “Oh, my God, Jason. Mmmm.”

  Overwhelmed, Jason lost all sense of time, his entire being focused on the incredible sensation and scent of the woman. Somewhere, in the back of his mind, he wondered if this was what an out-of-body experience was like. Curiously, as his excitement built, so did a strange, vague sense of panic. Jason had never been promiscuous, but he had hardly led the life of a monk. Yet somehow, this was different, and not in a good way. He had the distinct, absurd feeling that his entire existence, maybe his soul, was slowly being sucked out through his mouth. But he felt trapped, unable to move, like a rabbit caught in the headlights of an oncoming car. Now, he could only remain immobile, sweating with intense sexual excitement. As he stood there, shaking and confused, a rushing noise assailed his ears, increasing rapidly until he was completely disoriented. When his knees began to stiffen with excitement, the noise in his head built to an unbearable crescendo.

  “Hey, Jase, you ok in there, honey?” The banging on the door nearly split Jason’s head in two and made the woman in front of him whirl toward the door.

  “Damn it” she hissed under her breath while trying to keep Jason from collapsing.

  “Jase, it’s me, Phil. You didn’t look too good when you left and maybe it’s none of my business, but I still don’t like your chaperone. You alright?”

  Eyes flashing with anger, Morgana le Fay released her nearly unconscious prey, ran across the room and climbed out the window onto the fire escape before disappearing into the night.

  An instant later Jason pitched forward, his eyes rolling back in his head as his knees crashed to the carpet. A second later he collapsed in a lifeless heap on the floor.

  Panicked at the sound, Phillipa pounded on the door. “Jason. Jason Carpenter, if you don’t answer the door this bloody instant I’m calling the manager.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Even before Jason regained full consciousness there was pain. Every muscle, every tendon, every sinew ached and burned. His head throbbed like it was encircled by an iron band being tightened until his skull was ready to burst. When he tried to open his eyes the exertion caused beads of cold, oily sweat to break out on his forehead. Where? Liverpool. Museum opening. That woman, what was her name?

  “Honey, are you alright?” Phil’s soft voice eased him back to reality.

  “Hi, Phil.” Even to himself, Jason sounded blurry and far off. “What happened? How’d you get here?”

  “Long story. Was Lu Morgan in here? What did she do to you?”

  “I don’t know. Where is she?”

  Nodding toward the open window, Phil said “I think she left.”

  “What time is it?”

  “It’s morning. You’ve been out for hours.”

  “I gotta get out of here.”

  “You need rest. I can get you the room for another day if you want.”

  “No. Just want to go home.”

  When he tried to stand he tripped and fell, stumbling across the hotel carpet. Finally, he lurched toward the bathroom, supporting himself on Phil’s arm. There was not enough energy to make it through a shower, so he washed his face and hands in the sink; taking four aspirins, hoping they would clear his head. Half an hour later he had managed to dress while Phil stuffed his clothes into his suitcase. He was still shivering and sweating uncontrollably, but he forced his body to keep moving. There was only an hour to get to his train or he would have to wait for a later one, and a train station was no place to be sick. When he was ready, he thanked Phil effusively and asked her to call him a cab.

  “There’s a taxi rank right across the street. I’ll help you down.”

  Together they took the elevator down and while Phil checked him out, Jason made his way through the hotel doors. The cold air gave him the energy to get to the far side of the street and into a cab, but the fifteen-minute wait at Liverpool station seemed like an eternity of misery. Once on board, Jason stumbled erratically through one aisle after another until he found a relatively quiet compartment. Within minutes, he had drifted into the clammy, fitful sleep of the ill.

  “York station, next stop. York. Please collect all of your belongings for York.” The conductor gently tapped Jason on the shoulder. “I believe this is your stop.”

  “Hum?” Startled, Jason woke with a jerk, wincing as pain shot through his body with renewed vigor.

  “Sorry if I startled you, but your ticket says you get off at York. This is your stop.”

  “Oh, thank you.”

  Jason pulled himself from the seat, taking two steps toward the end of the car before realizing he had forgotten his bag. It felt like it weighed a ton and the single step from the carriage to the platform made him grit his teeth.

  “Oh, my God, Jason, you look awful. What happened?” Beverley cried, running up to him with wide, worried eyes.

  “Oh, Bev.” Jason threw his arms around her, nearly knocking her over with the combined weight of his limp body and suitcase. “I think I must have caught something down there. I feel like crap.”

  “You look like crap. Come on, let me take your bag and we’ll get you home and put you to bed.”

  “I can carry it.”

  “Don’t be stupid,” she said, taking the suitcase from his shaking hand. “Chivalry is great, macho is bad. Now come on.” Putting an arm around his waist for support, Beverley led him to her car.

  “Do you want to come to my place?”

  “Thanks, Bev, but I just want to go home. Besides, I don’t want you to catch whatever it is I have.”

  “Ok. I just don’t want your granddad to catch it either.”

  “It’ll be ok. I just need to be in my own bed for a while.”

  “I understand.” They drove the rest of the way in silence, Jason leaning his aching head against the cool glass of the window. Pulling into St Mary’s Terrace, Beverley eased the car to the curb.

  “You stay here. I’m going to get your granddad to help get you up the stairs.”

  “I can walk, really.”

  “No, you can’t. Really. And I don’t want you falling down stairs and breaking something and you are way too big for me to catch.” Too exhausted to argue, Jason sat, breathing heavily, till Beverley came back with Merlin.

  Shaking his head as he pulled Jason out of his sweat-soaked clothes, Merlin had him tucked into bed within ten minutes. When Jason tried to protest, the old wizard mumbled, “Just lay down, we can talk about it when you wake up. I’ll make something that should help you feel a little better.” Jason did as he was told and fell asleep almost instantly fell.

  “Thank you for bringing him home, Beverley.”

  “Of course. You will let me know when he is up and around, won’t
you Mr. Carpenter?”

  “When he wakes up I’ll have him call you or I’ll call you myself.”

  “Thank you.” Giving the old man a gentle peck on the cheek, Beverley left Merlin alone with his patient. It was almost six o’clock the next morning, more than eighteen hours after returning home, that Jason finally stirred.

  “How do you feel?”

  “What time is it?”

  “Five forty-seven.”

  “p.m.?”

  “a.m.”

  “Oh, God.” Jason said, pulling himself carefully off the pillow. “Have you been sitting there all night?”

  “I was worried about you. Do you feel up to telling me what happened?”

  “I think I just caught a flu bug, or something.”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Why not?”

  “I have my reasons. I’ll explain everything in due time, but first I want to know what happened. I need to know everything. Every detail.”

  Jason collected his thoughts and pulled himself closer to an upright position, asking Merlin if he would mind getting him some juice. Walking silently from the room, Merlin returned with a steaming cup.

  “Here, drink this.”

  “What’s this?” Jason asked, taking a whiff of the cup’s contents, screwing up his nose.

  “An old family remedy.”

  “Oh, terrific,” Jason rolled his eyes, “Dark Age medicine.”

  “You must be feeling better. Now drink it and let’s talk.”

  Nearly gagging on the bitter brew, Jason forced it down and eased back on the pillows. Slowly, carefully, so as not to leave out any detail, he began recounting his day in Liverpool. His mind was still foggy and more than once he had to stop and back up to fill in missing details. He had just gotten to the point where Lu Morgan took him back to his hotel when Merlin interrupted.

  “And she seduced you.”

  Jason lowered his eyes. “Oh, yes.” Then, after a pause “I really feel bad, too. I mean, I didn’t mean to cheat on Beverley and being drunk is no excuse.”