KEY SIX
Fifteen minutes later, I was dressed in a warm plaid gown and was wearing my borrowed boots, which fit pretty good, considering. I grabbed a candle off the table and was now standing in front of the hole with the amulet around my neck. I put it on as a precautionary measure. If I somehow ended up somewhere where I didn’t want to be, maybe I could switch places with the real Marguerite. That way I would get to dress to the nines in some fancy apartment in the future. “Yeah, like that would happen.”
If the truth of the matter were told, I really had no idea what would happen, but it was a chance I was ready to take. Taking a deep, shaky breath, I threw caution to the wind and squeezed behind the wardrobe.
It was black as pitch. I lifted the candle to light the way. The flame fluttered, revealing a steep set of stairs. With each step I took down the steep incline of stairs, I couldn’t help questioning my sanity. Tentatively, I tapped each step with my shoe, making sure the stair was secure. I didn’t want to inadvertently fall into a hole… or worse…awaken the big nasty creature lurking down in the shadows, waiting to devour its next hapless victim…me.
CURIOUSITY KILLED THE CAT
RAVENHURST
MILFORD walked briskly through the shadowed corridor toward Marguerite’s old chamber. Lifting his hand, he took a breath and knocked on the door.
No answer.
He tried again.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
Still no answer. He reached down and turned the handle. At least the door was unlocked. He pulled it open and quickly ducked inside the room and quietly shut the door behind him. He hoped Katherine was still awake. Silently, he walked to the bed. It was empty and still made.
A feeling of dread gathered in the pit of his stomach. He looked to his right, towards the water closet. The door was wide open. He crossed the room and looked inside. It was also empty. When he turned back around, he noticed all the shoes and a white sleeping gown on the floor.
Katherine was gone.
He had a bad feeling, a very bad feeling. “Where did you go?” He walked over to the bureau and looked through the drawers. With shaking hands, he lifted out the box and opened it up. The amulet was gone as well. He closed his eyes and swallowed past the lump in his throat. Please do not be down there… with him. He glanced warily at the wardrobe and his body shuddered involuntarily. Now what was he to do? Leave her to her own devices? And where would that lead Marguerite? And what would he do? Would he tell her?
If Katherine knew what she could do with the help of the amulet, would she still go through with what had been planned so long ago?
He let out a long weary sigh and ran his hands over his face. Well, if that happened it would be a moot point anyway. Katherine was the only person who could direct their fates now, even as twisted as they may become, and she was also the only one who could untwist those same fates.
He walked over to the door and glanced once again toward the wardrobe. With a heavy heart, he opened the door and slipped out into the shadowy corridor, making his way back to his own room. Once inside he shut the door and crossed the room. A lone chair stood in front of his hearth. There was a small table at its side. He walked over and sat down heavily in the chair, dropping his head into his hands as the full weight of the burden he created so many centuries before settled fully upon him, dragging memories from his past to the forefront of his mind.
MERLIN’S SECRET ROOMKING ARTHUR’S REALM
“So my little friend, I see you have made your way back to me. Are you in need of my assistance yet again?” he said, his deep voice laced with a chilling edge as he spoke.
He turned then, lifting a questioning brow at the boy standing in the doorway. “Ah wait, you went further the last time, did you not, to her, and now you are back. Did my warnings not predict this outcome?” He took a step forward then paused. “Tell me, did all go the way you wished?” He turned, his icy gaze on the boy, waiting.
“I do not know,” young Milford said, his words barely audible. His small frame quaked in the doorway to his room.
“I warned you not to trust her. She is a deceptive girl. She lets envy and jealousy get in the way of what is right and wrong. He does not even want her. He never did, and yet, she will not relinquish her hold, even though it is not her hold to have.” His words rushed from his mouth, revealing the truth as he spoke, but he could not lose the hope he had for her, even though he knew it was futile.
“What will happen to the girl?” young Milford asked, wringing his hands.
“The girl, she is gone,” he said simply.
“She can not be gone. He is going madder as each day passes.” Milford’s body began to tremble even more than moments before. “I have to find her. There is no other option. Where do you think she went?” he asked, hoping he would give him the answer he needed.
“Think you she would magically appear, after the lengths you went to, to rid the Earth of her human existence?” he asked. He shook his head. “Tsk. Tsk.”
Young Milford took a step forward, pleading. “I did not realize what I was doing. My ear was bent to the ranting of an evil, vile creature,” he defended himself even though he knew deep down it was all his fault.
“And yet when I warned you, you chose not to heed my warning.” Merlin turned away, dragging his fingers across the rough-hewn surface of his worktable. He grabbed a few herbs and tossed them into the kettle hanging over a pile of hot coals in the hearth. The concoction hissed and bubbled, spluttering white puffs of smoke into the air. He walked casually away, brushing his hands off as he strode towards the door.
“Please wait,” young Milford begged, a sob tearing from his throat. Tears began to fill his eyes, stealing his sight. He was desperate. He needed to fix what he had done.
“Why should I?” he asked frankly, his commanding voice taking on an even sharper edge.
“Because I need you to help me. You are the only one powerful enough.”
“Ah, now it is my power you seek?” he inquired darkly.
“I came to you before, but you turned me down,” he said defensively.
“And look! Here you are, my little, silly friend.” He swept his arm to the room at large. “You have returned to try to fix something that should have never come to pass in the first place.” He crossed his arms and tapped his chin thoughtfully. “And now you want my help?”
“Yes, yes, I do. I am begging you to help me, please.”
“What are you willing to sacrifice?” he asked.
“Sacrifice…? Anything, anything at all. I will go to any lengths to fix what I have done.”
“So be it. It will be done,” he said simply with a flick of his wrist, turning back towards the door.
“How long…?” young Milford asked, his lip quivering as tears streamed down his pale, dirty face.
“However long it takes.”
“That is not good enough. I can not live forever,” he argued desperately.
“Oh, my friend, in this instance, you can, and will. At least until your job is finished, even if it takes an eternity.”
“Why can you not simply bring her back?” he probed, not fully understanding.
“It is not that simple.”
“But you are so powerful,” young Milford persisted.
He laughed at that, it had a bittersweet edge to it. “My foolish, little friend, even I am not that powerful.”
‡
Milford’s mind returned to the present. He felt a familiar sadness welling inside of his chest as a tear slipped from his eye. He dashed it away. He could not, would not, fail. He rose from the chair, crossed the room and opened the door. He knew what he needed to do.
OUT OF SIGHT DOES NOT = OUT OF MIND
RAVENHURST
SEBASTIAN was back in the library, staring at the same stack of papers. Instead of taking care of them, he was contemplating the hand he was dealt. What in damnation could he do? There was something altogether unsettling about Marguerite’s demeanor. S
he seemed so changed. It was almost as if she were another person altogether. He shook his head, wondering if the brandy he drank earlier was finally taking hold of his senses and making him addlepated.
He felt out of sorts, unsettled. What in the hell was the matter with him? Since when did some chit evoke this kind of reaction in him? No woman ever had this effect on him. He needed to get out of the house. He needed to be alone for a while. He laughed and ran his hand over his face. “What a ludicrous statement.”
It would take days to run into someone in this estate if you chose not to. Regardless, he kept feeling a pull towards the upper floors. Maybe he should just check on her, make sure nothing was amiss.
He stood and walked halfway across the room before stopping himself. Make sure nothing was amiss. “Bloody Hell!” he swore to the empty room. She was the one who left him standing in the middle of the room, so close, but so far away, again. His pride balked. She had her chance, but she turned him down. That realization stung more than he wanted to admit.
STUPID IS AS STUPID DOES
RAVENHURST
I WAS on the verge of putting my borrowed boots to good use and run back up the stairs. What in the hell had I been thinking? Oh, I knew what I was thinking. I had placed some kind of bent misconception on myself and somehow convinced myself I was some kind of super detective. A detective, I was not.
The further I descended the stairs, the air became even more chilled. The shawl I grabbed kept slipping. I pulled it back on my shoulders. Spiders and other nasty crawling things bounded away from the flickering candlelight. At least the light from above illuminated the stairwell a little.
As if on cue, the light from above disappeared completely as the secret door at the top of the stairs clicked shut. My teeth chattered.
Every bit of my bravado from earlier slipped steadily away. “Oh, why did I come down these damn stairs?” I never did this crap when I was younger. When I heard strange noises, I kept my ass in bed and covered my head until the morning came.
Now I was stuck. Of course, I did not think to stick something in the crack to keep the door from shutting. “Stupid!” I was just asking for something bad to happen to me.
An eerie sense of déjà vu crept over me.
In mid-step, I froze—trying to recall what was hovering just out of my grasp. Every bone in my body was telling me to get the hell outta dodge, screaming, run.
Literally forcing myself, I took another step. My foot landed on top of something, and I lost my balance. The full weight of my foot crushed whatever it was and it crunched loudly.
“Oh God!”
I had a terrible feeling, I may have just ended some poor creature’s life as the tiny bones crushed under the weight of my body. Holding the candle aloft, I bit back sob of remorse and shook off whatever was stuck to the bottom of my shoe.
Thump… thump… thump… it rolled.
“Oh, good Lord!” That was all I needed… a rolling carcass. I covered my mouth. I refused to throw up. Taking another step, I finally landed at the bottom of the stairs.
The candle flickered as I lifted it higher in the air. A door was directly in front of me. I reached out and placed my hand on the cool metal handle. I didn’t try to open it. I was afraid to. But what was the point of coming down here if not to open the door? “Oh hell!” I squeezed my eyes shut and twisted the handle. It was locked.
“Woo!” I cheered.
The candlelight flickered across the floor to the stone beneath my feet. I noticed there was something in the corner. Reaching down, I grabbed a piece of paper and held out it in front of the candle. It had a red wax seal. Was that a Raven? I broke the seal and pulled apart the paper. There was writing on it but I couldn’t make it out in the dim light.
A shuffling noise came from the other side of the door. The candle flickered out.
I dropped the candle and finally put my borrowed boots to good use. I turned around and took my ass right back up the stairs as fast as my feet would carry me.
IN BETWEEN THERE AND NOW
He waited behind the closed door. He knew it was locked, but it did not stop him from walking forward when he heard her outside. He could see her in his mind’s eye, her long hair flowing forward as she reached for the scroll on the floor. So she found it.
He cocked his head to the side, listening. She was running up the stairs to the door. He could hear her heart pounding frantically as she searched for a way out. He smiled to himself and flicked his wrist slightly in the air. The door in front of her opened.
She fell through it.
She jumped up.
Now she was singing… and… dancing.
He shook his head. Yes. She was an odd one. He blinked and the image of her faded from his mind.
‡
Another door creaked open from across the room.
He did not bother turning. He had been expecting him, after all. “Ah, I see you have come once again. To what do I owe this visit?” he asked even though he already knew what his visitor would say.
“She is not there yet.”
“Oh I know,” he said absently as he walked over to the shelves lined with ancient tomes. He pulled one out and looked at it briefly; then he pushed it back up on the shelf and pulled another out. He ran his long fingers over the top, feeling the hand-molded leather ripple under his skin.
He placed it gently on the rough-hewn worktable and opened it up. Light skittered across the lettering on the pages, illuminating the words he sought.
“So what should I do?”
“Wait,” he said absently as he read.
“But what if she interferes?”
He lifted light gray eyes up and looked off in the distance, seeing a place that was not in the room, a time they were not in at present. His eyes focused back on the here and now. “Hmm, that is interesting. I guess we will not know until it happens.”
“How can you be so calm about this? Everything hangs in the balance.”
“What would be the point in worrying? It will turn out the way it was destined to.”
“Are you sure?”
“Well… no, I am not sure. Some things need to be left to chance.” He glanced back at the pages, and the words blurred before his eyes.
“Fate.”
“What?” he said, trying to focus his eyes, but the words kept eluding him, just as she had done.
“Some things must be left to fate, not chance.”
“Oh, right… Fate,” he said absently.
“I will leave you to your work then. I thought you should know.” He walked back out the way he came.
“I already knew,” he said, barely audible even to his own ears. The door closed, taking the light from the room once more. He settled back into the chair behind him, propping his elbows up and rested his chin on his fingertips.
His body tingled.
It would seem the end was near, or was it another beginning. Yes, another beginning was better.
He chuckled lightly. Oh, what he would give to see her face when she realizes her little plan went awry!
Would she try again?
Images of the girl that tormented his soul eclipsed his mind. She was so unattainable, her amber eyes stealing his breath whenever he looked at her. He shook the image of her lovely face from his mind, feeling the familiar tightening in his chest. He let out a sigh.
It did not matter, she could try, but she would fail. Of that, he was certain. This time he would change fate, or be damned trying.
SALVATION
RADCLIFF MANOR
GRAYSON Radcliff was an imposing man with a scar that started at his brow and continued down the side of his face, until it just barely touched the corner of his mouth. He was a loner by society’s standards, but they accepted him as they did anyone with a title in what they viewed as an elitist group.
He knew they held him in disdain, but not one of the fools would ever dare give him the cut directly. Invitations piled up on the silver salver in the hall, req
uesting his attendance at long weekend parties and many soirees. They, as a group, did not like him, but that did not stop them from shoving their simpering daughters in his face with high hopes that one of them might end up wearing the shoes of a duchess. He wanted no part of their daughters and no part of marriage. Well, if he were to be honest, that had been the case, until recently.
EARLIER IN THE DAY LONDON TOWNHOUSE
Grayson climbed the stairs to the Townhouse he had rented for his Mistress. A few flurries of snow had already started to fall and he pulled the collar of his greatcoat up with one hand while holding a bundle of flowers in the other.
Normally he did not bother with such frivolities but it was a special day and he wanted to surprise her. He was not supposed to arrive until the following day. Turns out, he was the one who had gotten a surprise. When he walked in… Bliss was bent over a table while another titled lord (one he could not stand) slammed into her repeatedly from behind. She was wearing the peignoir he had given her, a light green, frothy confection. Her cries of pleasure filled the room as she neared climax.
Grayson stood there… watching. Her face flushed, her eyes closed in pleasure, her breasts swinging back and forth against the hard surface of the table.
A Knight Such as This: Enhanced with Interactive Content: (Time Travel Romance) Book 1 & 2 (Ravenhurst Series) Page 17