Courtney watched and listened as Reynold told her about his life growing up in Heartsease. How he fell in love with Catherine without realizing he'd done so. How they played with Isabel in the courtyard with the King's blessing. Isabel's many attempts to own him and his resistance to her unwanted sexual advances. How magic was a way of life for them. How Isabel learned to use the black arts to get what she wanted.
As the stories unfolded with the turning pages, she noticed on more than one occasion that Thomas nodded in acceptance of his words. It wasn't until the story led them to the joust and Reynold's disappearance that he actually spoke up.
"Taking your life wasn't going to happen—you know that, don't you Reynold?” Thomas barely whispered the words, his eyes glistening with regret.
Reynold reached over, placing a hand on his friend's arm. “Aye, nor could I defeat thee and have the Queen strip thee of thy knighthood. ‘Tis thy life, Thomas."
Courtney stood and walked from the table. “Wait a minute! You mean to tell me you actually believe you lived in that time, Thomas?"
Bong! Bong! Bong!
Thomas rose, looking around the room as if he'd just returned from a place far away. “We have little time before the faire opens for the day. Reynold, I'll meet you at the stables.” He turned and left the small shop, the sacred manuscript in hand.
Courtney looked down at the table. “I don't know if I believe this or not. Reincarnation is for foolish people who believe there's another life waiting for their souls to capture. I'm not one of those people.” She turned from the only man who'd captured her imagination and made her feel alive inside. Her common sense wouldn't allow her to even entertain the idea of life after death. Yet her heart beckoned for her to believe in the unknown. To believe in dreams come true and knights in shinning armor.
Reynold stood, taking her in his arms. His body pressed close to hers sent a wave of passionate electricity storming through her. Against her better judgment, she wanted him more than anything in the world. She wanted to believe his stories with all her heart. She wanted to be the love he longed for ... but she wasn't.
"What day is this day?” Reynold now held her at arm's length, the space between them filling with sparks of desire.
"What does it matter?” she asked, feeling his anxiety. “It's Sunday, August 31st, almost the end of the season for the faire."
Terror crossed his face, followed closely by something she couldn't explain. Almost fear, but not quite. He kissed her firmly, then whispered onto her lips, “Beware of this day. Beware of Isabel, her magic will be powerful.” He kissed her hard then hesitantly released her. He walked slowly across the shop floor and out the door.
A hot shiver soared through her, followed by a freezing chill. Pulling open the shop doors, she watched as Reynold ran along the path toward the stables below. How could she not believe in him when her heart, body and soul told her her knight had come to rescue her?
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Chapter 14
Issie peered out from behind one of her bookshelves. There was something going on and she was going to find out one way or another just what it was. She'd not have that trio win again at her final attempt to bring Reynold into her bed.
She'd only been allowed six lives in which to find Reynold and bring him to his knees before her. But he'd escaped her every time until now. This was her last chance to claim what she felt was hers and she'd make sure he didn't escape her this time around.
Thomas did seem a little more than taken aback this morning when she'd barged in on them at the dress shop. He'd all but slunk behind Reynold, using him as a shield against her wrath. Now he stomped down the hill with a purposeful look about him, making it more than evident she'd been correct in her earlier assumption. The satchel hanging from his shoulder bounced rhythmically off his hip with each step. By the looks of it, there was an object of some weight nestled deep inside that leather pouch.
The sacred Astley journal, maybe?
With him having shown up at Courtney's establishment so early in the morning, could it be the ancient history of Heartsease? She'd searched so desperately for it throughout the centuries. Was it in that satchel of his? Can he finally be embracing who he truly is?
Hahahaha, you'll be mine to command before the night falls, Sir Thomas Astley.
Issie took a step from the bookshelf toward the threshold of her potion shop, and then Reynold walked quickly past. She backed up into the shadows the shop offered her. He seemed to be in just as much of a hurry as had Thomas.
His white shirt, tucked loosely in his britches, brought to mind a man who'd been caught in the arms of another man's wife. His clothes were disheveled, his hair like a mass of unruly yarn. He looked like he'd just had a tumble in the hay.
She stomped her foot in exasperation as the vision of Reynold and Courtney lying together, entwined in carnal pleasure, soared through her mind. Never! Miss Prude wouldn't allow a man in her arms let alone wrapped snuggly between her legs. If she did, it would be her last time for such pleasure.
Issie gazed after the Black Knight. She'll never feel the pleasure of a man, especially a man like Reynold Roddington. He's too much for her to handle, whereas I know exactly how to make him mine. How to make him bend to my unusual desires and become my bed slave.
"Thomas!” she heard Reynold call out as his fast walk turned into a jog. “I beg of thee, please wait."
Issie stepped onto the platform of her shop, a sense of knowledge seeping into her mind. Now I know something's going on. Today's the last day I have to get what's rightfully mine. I must find out what those three have been up too all morning. What sort of magic have they thought they've conjured up to use against me?
Looking at her watch, Issie stepped back into her potion shop. “An hour before the faire opens. Gives me plenty of time to ponder the circumstances and plot my next move."
In the sanctuary of the back room, Issie tapped on the front panel of her back door, revealing a secret compartment she'd had specially crafted. Reaching inside, she pulled out her most prized possession—her Grimoire.
* * * *
Strengthening her resolve, Courtney stood on the back stoop of Issie's potion shop. She knocked on the door, then stepped back, waiting for an answer. It seemed every nerve in her body quivered. She'd never been so damn mad and so disgusted with a person in her entire life. How dare Isabel Cummings think she can force her way into my shop ... my sanctuary ... my one little piece of heaven. She'll not run rough-shod over me again!
"Go away, I'm busy!” Issie's screeching voice cut through the wood like an ax. “Your presence is not wanted here."
Nope, not this time, Issie. “I want to talk to you, Ms. Isabel Cummings!” Courtney rubbed her moist hands over the jean shorts she'd thrown on after Reynold ran out after Thomas. The longer she waited the more she seemed to fidget. “Damn it, Isabel, open the door!” she called out, knocking harder this time.
"I have nothing whatsoever to say to you, Ms. Parker. Go away before someone turns you into a frog, or better yet drops a house on you."
The threat didn't come without meaning, but far from scared Courtney for even a minute. She was too angry to be scared by Issie's idle threats. “Give it up, Issie. Your threats are meaningless and you had no right—"
The door flew open with the force of a gale wind. “Are you sure you want to come inside, Courtney? There may be all kinds of horrible things going on that could turn your world upside down.” Issie's hair was wild and crazy, matching the look in her coal-black eyes.
"You're not going to scare me, Issie. As much as you try, you don't and never will.” Courtney attempted to step closer to the woman in front of her, but found she couldn't move. She wanted her body language to reflect her words, and she wasn't sure if it did or not. “You are never to come banging on my shop door before the faire opens again—do you understand me?"
The crooked smile crossing Issie's face sent yet another warning through Courtney. Th
e evil woman took a step forward. “I think it's you who needs to understand. After all, you're the one who stands in the way of what I want and what I will have."
Courtney thought for a moment. Thomas? No. Issie's never shown any interest in him other than to see how riled she can make him. Who then?
Reynold?
Courtney clinched her hands into fists at her side. “If you mean Reynold, I think the man has a mind of his own. He doesn't strike me as being your type—a tag-along puppy dog.” Her heart tingled with surety she'd spoken the truth.
Reynold certainly struck her as a man with his own mind, and one not easily swayed by any woman. Especially not a woman the likes of Issie Cummings, who demanded everything she wanted. He maybe wanted a strong woman; she knew he needed one who was soft and loving at the same time. Totally the opposite of what Issie represented.
Issie recovered herself. “That's where you're mistaken. I'll succeed this time, Courtney. You'll live to see him leave you to warm my bed before a fortnight. I'll bask in the sound of your sobbing for a man who doesn't love or desire you.” She slammed the door in Courtney's face, puffing her loose hair into the air.
"Not on your life, Issie.” Finally able to move, Courtney beat her fist against the door, then left the back stoop with Issie's evil, black laughter following her every step.
* * * *
Issie stirred the contents in the pot sitting on her back table. “Not on my life? Little Miss Goodie Two Shoes actually thinks she has a backbone. Who would have guessed?"
Dropping a bit of henbane and lemon oil into the other ingredients, Issie thought of Thomas. She would need him to make sure Courtney got what she had in store for her. A good pot of tea would be enough to take her out of the picture for a period of time. Long enough for Issie to make Reynold realize he'd no choice but to succumb to her.
Satisfied with her potion, Issie punctured an orange with a fork then dropped it into the pot. Issie jumped back as the potion splashed onto the counter when the orange plunked to the bottom of the kettle. Thomas couldn't resist a big, juicy orange to sink his teeth into.
Issie muttered to herself as she stirred the contents of the pot twice, than left it to settle into itself. “With Thomas’ help, I'll be able to finally get what's mine. Once the final joust starts, all will be as it should be. Heartsease will finally see me for my true self—a woman who shall not be denied of what is rightfully hers. I'll be able to reclaim my throne and my people."
The sound of a pot about to boil over drew her attention to an electric hot plate. “Mmmmm, sweet apples.” She inhaled deeply, fully taking in the scent. Reaching into her secret spot, she pulled out a pouch and dropped a pinch or two of dragon teeth and bones into the steaming liquid. “Sleep, Ms. Courtney Parker, for all eternity, for what you believe is your destiny is truly mine."
Issie gave the contents a quick stir until the bubbly liquid swirled like a whirlpool. She watched closely, looking for evidence her potion would truly bring a quiet and long sleep to whoever drank it. Satisfied with what she saw, Issie turned the heat off, allowing the tea to ferment.
Issie placed her lizard-skin pouch of wolfbane around her neck and carefully pulled the orange from the pot. Stepping into the black light, she took in the colors surrounding her. Her eyes closed, she watched in silence as her body blurred and was sucked into the blackness.
Undetected by others getting ready for the faire, and with the orange in her hand, she walked toward the stables, where she knew Thomas, without knowing, waited for her special piece of citrus.
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Chapter 15
"Thomas?” Reynold stood just inside the stable door, peering through the shadows. Thomas’ gray gelding stood tethered in his stall, his ears perked, one ear alternating between Reynold and his hindquarters. Thomas appeared, his head and shoulders popping up between the gelding and the stall wall. “Yeah, what do ya want? I'm a little busy right now to talk to you at length. Never seen such shit in his hooves before this."
Reynold looked into the stall as Thomas finished picking out one of the gelding's hooves. “Stone?"
"More then one, I'm afraid. It's as if someone let him out all night long in the cornfield.” Thomas let go of the leg, tossing the hoof pick into a small black box. “If there's stones in the arena, more than one horse will come up lame before the end of the day. They'll have to drag and smooth it out or we'll end up with un-rideable horses."
Reynold opened the stall door, allowing Thomas to pass. “Aye."
Thomas grabbed his saddle pad and saddle, straddling both over the wall of his horse's stall. He took a deep breath, letting it escape in a slow whoosh. “I don't know what to believe, Reynold. Part of me says it's all true, while the common sense in me cries that it's insanity. Yet it's all there in black and white; the words of my ancestors plain as day. Shit, even my birth and childhood is recorded in that bullshit book by my parents, before their deaths."
Reynold plopped down on a nearby hay bale, watching Thomas’ agony move across his face. “'Tis much for thee to believe in, Thomas. Thy grandfather would not lie to thee. Look inside thy heart and soul, for the truth is waiting for thee to embrace it."
"That's the whole problem.” Thomas placed the bridle over his horse's head, waiting for the gray to take the bit in his mouth. Once the bit slid in, he pulled the bridle over the gelding's ears and drew the reins over its withers. “When I told Granddad about you, his eyes lit up with a brightness and life I've haven't seen in years. With all the fighting between Courtney and Issie, it's hard for me to understand any of this. None of that bickering started until you showed up."
Thomas’ look accused Reynold of things he'd never imagined. Reynold had no idea his presence would cause such a turmoil. He certainly hadn't considered Queen Isabel existed in this time period. Not until that night at the Black Swan when she walked in, disguised as a lowly shopkeeper of potions.
There had to be some way to convince Thomas of the truth. Reynold knew it was hard for Thomas to accept his family had been reincarnated through the centuries, trying to right what had been wronged, yet never fully succeeding. Since Reynold had vanished without a trace, there'd been no record of his existence in their family history. It was as if Reynold skipped over hundreds of years before landing here in a place that confused and frustrated him. He had to make Thomas realize his destiny was not his to control. It was in the hands of the Gods.
"Thomas, I...” Reynold shook his head. The words he wanted to say lingered somewhere in his soul.
After everything the two of them had been through as children playing in the courtyard of King David's castle, there'd been an unspoken bond between them. They'd defended one another more often than any two brothers would have. They trained to be squires together, then were knighted on the same day by the King of Heartsease. They'd even become blood brothers in that game of joust—that's it!
Reynold pushed up the right sleeve of his shirt, revealing a haphazard cross-shaped scar on his bicep. “Thomas, would there be a mark such as this on thy right arm?” Reynold walked over to Thomas, the scar illuminated in the defused light of the barn.
Surprise raced across Thomas’ face as he looked at Reynold's arm. He pushed up his own sleeve to reveal a scar identical to Reynold's. “How can that be? I've had this marking since I was born. My family always told me it was a birthmark, and that I must be destined to do some greater good. I've always just laughed the ‘do gooder’ part off to nonsense."
"The mark is there because we are blood brothers. It's a bond not even time can erase, no matter how powerful the magic.” Reynold placed his arm against Thomas', the scars matching up perfectly.
* * * *
Issie stepped into the stable only far enough to see her target standing arm to arm with Reynold. White energy soared through her, burning her black soul. Pushing the goodness out of her body, she concentrated hard to hold on to her invisibility. Somewhere there's blood root. Where is it? Reynold'
s amulet, of course! How could I be so stupid as to forget the gift my father gave to him as a boy?
Focusing, she again pushed away the white energy and reclaimed her concealment before being detected.
Thomas stared at Reynold, the position of his arm matching that of Reynold's. “It's a perfect match.” Thomas let his arm fall to his side, than hefted his saddle and pad off the stall wall.
The blood bond! Issie held the orange she'd prepared closer to her breasts. Carelessness in reaching her goal would do her no good. With two powerful sources of white magic near her, one wrong step would only reveal her to the men and uncover her intention to bind Thomas to her.
"Aye, so ‘tis.” Reynold opened the door to the gray's stall, then closed it after Thomas passed through. “'Tis meant to be that way, Thomas. ‘Tis the way for both for us to know we were bound in the past. A blood bond that is said and sealed with blood cannot be broken by any form of magic."
Thomas swung the saddle over the back of his horse, letting it land softly on the pad. “You really believe in that whole magic thing, don't you? I can't bring myself to even acknowledge such a thing exists in the 21st century.” He felt the underbelly of the horse, pulling the cinch strap under and into the ring until all was secure.
Issie stepped closer to a stall by the opposite wall, listening and waiting for the right moment to place the orange where Thomas would see it. Not only did she have to remain unseen, but her timing had to be just right. If she waited a moment too long, the horses would pick up her presence.
Luck is on my side after all. Thomas doesn't believe in magic. That gives me the advantage and makes my potion all the more powerful. This will be easy—like taking candy from a baby. Issie laughed, thinking of all the ways she could make Thomas her slave. She'd save that vision for another time when she'd taken care of Reynold and his little girlfriend.
Moving closer to the gray's stall, she watched closely to make sure the two men hadn't detected her. She was more worried about Reynold then anything, but he seemed to be too distracted with Thomas to worry about the unseen. She knew his senses were keen and the ever-present amulet would warn him of her presence sooner or later. She had to be quick if her plan was to succeed.
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