by Maggie Mundy
First, Cara found a pile of fine embroidered handkerchiefs. She picked up one. She smelled the lavender Nanna always put on them. Cara removed the handkerchiefs. Next, she found two frames holding old black and white photographs of Nanna and Pops, then a picture of their wedding. He looked so handsome in his suit and her dress had been simple yet so pretty.
Something big wrapped in tissue paper filled the next layer. Cara gasped when she opened it to discover Nanna’s wedding dress. It was no longer white, but a cream color. The lace and silk were still beautiful.
Finally, the box contained a small leather-bound notebook. Cara turned to the first page and started to read. The italic writing was beautiful.
‘My name is Margaret Turner. This is for those who’ll come after me. This isn’t just about me, but my sister Rosie who was murdered. I was born in 1825, she was born in 1823. Mother took in laundry. We helped out. Father was a chimney sweep and my brother worked with him.
It was a hard life but we all got by. Then Rosie married and moved away. I couldn’t blame her for getting out. I would have if I could. When I was sixteen our father died and my brother followed not long after. The soot made them cough up blood. We had to find more money so I started to work the streets.
It was hard the first time, but then I saw my mother’s smiling face when I gave her the money. She spent it all on grog and died in the gutter. Rosie didn’t know what I was doing. When she found out, she took me to live with her.
She was special. She had the healing touch. People would come and see her, but she never charged them. I think it gave her happiness. There was never much love between Rosie and her man. He was just her way out.
She used to smile though when she spoke of the man she did love. He was a blacksmith. They met too late. She was married and then when her man died, the smith was wed. When his wife died in childbirth, Rosie was blamed because she helped at the delivery. It wasn’t her fault the woman and her baby both passed.
After Rosie’s husband died, the local landowner took a shine to her. He used to beat her up a bit. She said it didn’t matter as long as we had a roof over our heads. He beat her so badly one night that she stabbed and killed him. I knew nothing but the streets. It was all I had to offer as a way to survive.
We escaped to Bath. When the peelers were around, Rosie sank into the shadows. She would put up with the customers roughing her up a bit for the money. She always said we would get away from this and start again. Then things got worse.
Our first customer that last night was a posh bloke. Him and his friends wanted her to stay until dawn. Hours later, she came to me as a ghost and said they’d killed her. She told me to run away. She had terrible wounds. Her head was sliced up and so was her body.
She said it was a ritual. They’d taken her power to extend their lives. She couldn’t stop them, but she managed to give some of her power to the man she loved to avenge her death. I assumed she meant the blacksmith. She also said that with the power shared they will not be immortal. Her killers will fade unless they can obtain power from another, like she was. A witch.
What was left of her was found the next day floating in the weir. I fled to Ireland. I always worried they’d come after me. I’m an old woman now and will not be around much longer. My daughter Nell has the odd colored eyes, one blue, one green like Rosie. I think she has the power. She has tried some spells over the years and has helped some of the folk nearby when she lays her hands on them. I worry someone will come for her when I’m gone.
I sent a letter to Seth, the blacksmith. He came and visited me. It was true. Sixty years have passed and he is unchanged. He’s promised to watch over those who come after me. I’ve done what I can and hope you will all be safe.
Margaret.
Cara didn’t have time to think about the contents of the journal before the phone rang. The book fell to the floor. When she answered the call, she heard Seth’s voice.
“Cara, I’m sorry I missed you. I was at the airport picking up Janet. I’ll be there at five. Is that all right?”
“Uh, yes.”
“Is something wrong? Is your friend well?”
“No everything’s fine. Jeff‘s improving. I’m going to see him this afternoon, but I should be back by four.”
“I was wondering if you would mind if I cooked for you.”
That took her off guard. “You don’t have to. Most people don’t want to cook for a chef.”
“I know, but I want to.”
A couple of hours ago Cara had wanted Seth to bash her door down and ravish her. Now, she wasn’t sure what she wanted. She hung the phone up and sat down by the chest again. The story of her great, great-aunt Rosie was so sad. Cara shuddered at the description of the murder. It was so unbelievable. How could someone over one hundred and fifty years old who had been told to protect her be out there? It also meant someone of an equal age might want to kill her.
It was a bit freaky that Rosie’s love was a blacksmith and his name was Seth. Her Seth wasn’t immortal. He was just an everyday guy. That wasn’t entirely true. He was a big, muscled, strong, incredibly sexy and frightening guy. Cara allowed herself a grin thinking of him naked. He wanted to see her again. He was even prepared to cook for her, a brave thing to do. She should tidy the bedroom and get some candles.
She started to pack away the contents of the chest. Putting the book back, she realized she had missed something. There was a photograph inside. It was an old sepia picture. It had two women in it. They were dressed in old-fashioned clothing from the 1800’s and smiling. Cara turned the photograph over. On the back was written Rosie and Margaret. 19 September 1846.
She hated to admit it, but the one she assumed was Aunt Rosie looked very much like her.
Cara hated hospitals. There were too many memories. She grimaced at the odor, a certain smell which could only be described as disinfectant mixed with fear. Jeff was doing well. He looked as if he’d lost weight. She could just see Daniel devoting all his time to fattening him up.
“So when are you seeing Vin Diesel’s evil twin again?” Daniel asked.
Jeff tried to turn over in bed to look at her. The movement caused him to screw up his face and clutch his side.
“What’s this? I get sick and for the first time in years and you find a man.”
“She mixed business with pleasure.”
“It wasn’t like that.” Cara explained all about Tony and how Seth had helped.
“She did a meal for two, only they ended up being the two. Matcher can’t stand him. It’s that aura stuff he goes on about. He says Seth has a bad one. I wouldn’t be surprised. He scares the shit out of me.” Daniel did a mock shiver.
“I can’t wait to meet him, Cara. The doctor says I may be able to go home tomorrow. Don’t finish your relationship until I get a look.”
“I don’t know about him. He gets sick and now he doesn’t trust my opinion. Seth is six foot, muscle-bound with a shaved head.” Daniel winked, then added. “He has a good butt in bike leathers.”
“I thought you were distressed the other day.” Cara shook her head. “All you were doing was staring at Seth’s butt.” She paused, “I had a small chest arrive from Nanna’s solicitors this morning.”
Daniel turned toward her wide-eyed. “So what was in it?”
“Most of it was mementoes. It’s strange. I still think if I catch a plane, she’ll be waiting for me at the farmhouse. It’s the same with Shona. So I’m bloody glad that appendix of yours didn’t explode.” Cara waved her finger at Jeff. “I refuse to lose anyone else.”
“I’ll second that.” Jeff looked at Daniel, then back at her. “You’d better get him a tissue Cara. He’s going to blubber on us.”
“Was there anything else in this box of your Nanna’s?” Daniel asked.
“There was
a book.” Cara reached in her purse. She handed the journal to Daniel. While she talked to Jeff about the jobs she had done that weekend, Daniel skimmed the book. When he finished, he handed the diary to Jeff to read. She tried to tell herself it didn’t matter what they thought but she found herself wringing her hands.
“Don’t just sit there looking at me with a blank expression. Say something.” Cara frowned at her partner.
Daniel bit his bottom lip. “Cara, what do you want me to say? It sounds great if I was watching Supernatural, but sitting here in the Bristol Royal Infirmary, it sounds like she lost her mind. I reckon it’s true that your ancestor was killed and all of that stuff. I don’t believe the ritual thing and people living forever.”
“She believed it. That makes it sort of sad.”
“I must admit the guy being called Seth was a coincidence. She didn’t mention he was six foot and scary. I think you’re safe. You don’t actually believe this stuff, do you?” Daniel shook his head as Jeff put down the book. “What do you think?”
“As you said, it’s an amazing story, That’s all it is.” Jeff moved and winced.
It was time she left, Cara thought. He needed rest, not her jabbering on about her crazy family.
Cara sat on the other side of the breakfast bar. She sipped a glass of Riesling as Seth cooked. She smiled. No bike leathers this time. He’d driven Janet’s car. He wore jeans and a shirt. Daniel was right. Seth did have a great butt.
He had walked into the flat with flowers, a bunch of roses no less. She could have ripped his clothes off right there and then. No one ever gave her flowers before unless she was sick. As soon as she put the roses down he had pulled her into his arms and kissed her. Their lips melded together as though they couldn’t get enough of each other. She had felt his erection hard against her so she was disappointed when he returned to cooking. She felt hungry, but not for food.
He glanced at her. “What are you thinking this time?” He stopped stirring and picked up his own glass.
Cara felt warmth flood her face. She must be bright red. She didn’t answer right away.
He went back to the cooker and switched it off. Walking back around to her, he held her face in his strong hands. He kissed her eyelids, forehead, cheeks and then her lips. Pulling away, he whispered, “We can eat later.”
Cara nodded. She wanted to forget everything and lose herself in him. She’d removed her blouse and he’d dropped his shirt on the hall floor by the time they reached the bedroom. Collapsing on the bed, she drew him to her. She wanted him naked and inside her. Her hands went down to his jeans and unzipped them.
She felt him straining for release. His hands slipped around her back and unfastened her bra. He tossed it across the room. She laughed when it landed on the wardrobe doorknob this time.
Rolling her onto her back, he caressed one breast with his hand. His lips and tongue toyed with her other nipple. The man made her crazy with the sensations he caused. He had only just started and she had tingles all over her body.
She clutched his shoulders. His fingers left her breast. He stroked down her leg and beneath her skirt. Cara wasn’t sure if she was hot or his fingers were when they slid inside her.
“Oh my God. You’re so ready. And wet.”
The words slipped from his lips in a breathy gasp. That was it. She was in the palm of his hand, literally. This lust overpowered her. They were a tangle of hands as the rest of their clothes came off.
Just touching his body was beyond what she could bear. It sent her mind spiraling into a glorious oblivion. They lay alongside each other, caressing shoulders, hips and inner thighs. Lips touching lips, necks, breasts, his wide chest.
Seth trailed kisses down her body stopping at her scar. He placed tiny kisses along the scar before his head descended lower. She was no virgin, but never before had a man made her feel so wonderful. His tongue swirled on her and flicked against her clitoris.
It sent her mind into spirals of ecstasy. Then, he was delving inside her. She pushed against him to get closer. The action spurred him on even more. She appreciated being a woman more than she had in ages. She couldn’t remember how long. The thought brought tears to her eyes.
Seth stopped and moved next to her.
“What’s wrong?” His hand cupped her face. He looked at her with concern.
Damn it, this man touched her far too deeply. She had just gone way beyond lust.
“I thought after the operation I’d never feel like a complete woman again.” She tried to stop her tears. “You make me feel sexy. No, you make me feel sex.”
His pupils dilated. Her heartbeat sped up.
“Cara, you’re everything and more it takes to be a woman. I can’t get enough of you.”
“You can try.”
She laughed as she pushed him onto his back and sat across him. She felt his hardness between her legs as she moved. Leaning forward, he took her right breast in his mouth and sucked her nipple hard. He nipped her, but the pain caused the ache inside to increase. She put her hand down, guiding him into her moistness. A groan escaped her lips.
He bit harder on her nipple. She moved slowly at first. When he put his hands on her hips, she increased the momentum. How long could she cope with the intensity of feelings arising from her body? She moaned with delight as each new sensation hit.
She heard him groan. His face contorted as his whole body shuddered in release. At this moment, she never wanted to sleep another night in this bed without him.
He smiled at her. “Cara, how could you possibly think you’re not all woman?”
Her shower was too small. It meant they were extremely close as he washed her. It was strange after the closeness of sex that she could feel shy. As he lathered her breasts and then moved his hand lower so he made his way through her tangle of curls and washed between her legs. She closed her eyes unable to look at him.
“It’s your turn.”
She soaped his back, his glorious buttocks and legs. God, she wanted him again. The ache inside was almost painful. He turned around to face her. She started to giggle as she tried to wash his privates.
“You find this amusing.”
“No, it’s just I feel useless at it.”
“You are doing very well, trust me.”
She started to wash his chest. The scars grew more livid due to the hot water. The red mark on his shoulder didn’t look so angry anymore. Without thinking, she had been massaging the spot. She glanced up at him and met his gaze.
“Don’t ask me, not yet.”
“Well then, let’s eat,” she said. “I have an appetite and someone said they were cooking for me.”
They sat on the couch eating pasta. Cara had lit candles. The sex and the wine made her feel mellow. “I want the recipe, unless it’s a trade secret.”
“It’s no secret. I chuck in things.” Seth took her empty dish to the kitchen. As he sat back down, he hit something with his foot. He refilled their glasses. He reached down and picked up Nanna’s chest.
“This looks old.”
“It’s my grandmother’s. Her solicitors sent it to me. I got it today. You can open it if you want.” Cara watched as Seth went through the contents. He touched each item slowly with reverence.
“You should cherish these things. You’ll always have part of her here with you, now that you have this.”
Cara bit her bottom lip at his comment but then decided to tell more.
“I loved Nanna, but she didn’t get along with Mum. To be honest, I think Mum had a point. Nanna did have some strange ideas. There was a book in the box also written by my great, great whatever grandmother. It’s in my bag. I’ll show it to you. It’s a bit out there, but I’d like to see what you think.”
Cara reached over the side of the couch. She picked up her bag
while Seth sipped wine. As she pulled out the book, the photograph of Margaret and Rosie fell face upwards on the floor. Seth picked it up.
He said one word as he stared at the image in front of him. One word that made Cara’s heart stand still and her blood run cold.
“Rosie.”
Chapter 18
Cara didn’t bother sipping. She took a big gulp of wine. Her stomach clenched in a tight knot as she sat and watched Seth read the book. He hadn’t seen the back of the photograph. He’d paled at the sight of Rosie though. That rat was gnawing at her insides again. He wasn’t the sort of person who looked or acted shocked by anything. How the hell did he know the people in the picture?
It was just the ramblings of an old woman, Cara told herself. She took another gulp of wine. Why wasn’t he saying something? I don’t want to know, she thought, but she did. She also wanted him to stay, no matter what. The thought of a life without him was too much to bare.
Seth placed the book down on the coffee table. He glanced up and then looked away.
“I never knew Margaret well, but that is Rosie. I loved her. What the book says is true.” Seth spoke quietly.
She was sitting next to a stranger. Okay, so she’d just had sex with him, but this was insane. Surely he didn’t expect her to believe he was the Seth from the book. He would be getting on for nearly two hundred years old.
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Cara gave a strained laugh. She had never been afraid of his size but she was afraid of what he was saying.
“I’m not going to lie to you. No matter how strange what I might say may sound, I’m telling you the truth. I don’t want to leave your side unless you ask me to go.”
This time he looked straight at her and she couldn’t cope with the piercing stare.
“I haven’t asked you to go.” Cara bit her bottom lip. She should kick him out. Making the right decisions in life had never been one of her strong points.