“Well.” Mr. Russell frowned. “You must understand, Mr. Beauforte, that this is completely opposite to the understanding I have been given of the situation here.” He pulled a hankerchief out of his pocket and wiped the perspiration from his brow. “It seems that the situation may have been misrepresented to me. Might I assume that we could put this arrangement in writing?”
“Of course.” Baird watched relief wash over the older man’s features, though he still looked troubled.
“I believe Mr. Mulvaney is expecting me at the well. Perhaps you could join me, Mr. Beauforte, and we could get to the bottom of this matter.”
Baird tried not to show his frustration. There was no good way to deny Mr. Russell, but then, he might find Aurelia in the well.
She had agreed to help Darian, after all.
Baird agreed and the men matched steps as they crossed the lawn.
*
Aurelia’s heart stopped cold when she heard the low murmur of Baird’s voice.
Then it raced madly.
She rose to her feet, not daring to believe she heard right as footsteps echoed on the stairs to the well. A portly man descended first, his bright gaze scanning both Aurelia and the room before he looked to Darian. He scowled and the antagonism between those two men was tangible.
This must be Mr. Russell, to whom Darian would recommend Dunhelm be stolen from Baird. Darian had not been able to keep Aurelia away from this presentation, for all that she felt powerless to change the results. A part of her had hoped desperately that she might be able to persuade Mr. Russell otherwise.
But that man looked to be one who made up his own mind. There was a determination in the set of his jaw when he glared at Darian that gave Aurelia a tentative hope.
Perhaps this would not be so easy as Darian believed.
Then Aurelia saw Baird and she cared nothing for Darian and his games. Baird was tall and broad as she recalled, and the sight of him had precisely the same effect upon her as before.
If anything, two months without him had made her more susceptible to his allure.
Baird’s charcoal suit was like that Julian had worn the first day they had met, but more conservative in cut. He looked austere, despite the burgundy silk knotted around his throat, and the subtle gleam of gold at his wrists. His dark hair had been compelled to some kind of order, his gaze was as vividly green as ever, but there were shadows beneath his eyes.
He looked to have lost some weight.
Did Aurelia dare to hope that Baird had missed her?
She could not summon a word to her lips when his intense gaze locked with hers. Baird scanned her as hungrily as she had studied him and Aurelia’s heart began to sing.
Perhaps all was not lost. Her cheeks heated with self-consciousness as Baird stared at her shorn hair. Aurelia saw the question flash through his eyes before he frowned and looked to the other men.
If only she could have the chance to explain.
“Welcome, Mr. Russell,” Darian said expansively. His charming smile grated on Aurelia for all its dishonesty. “And Mr. Beauforte” - his voice hardened - “your presence was hardly expected.”
Baird’s lips thinned. “So I gather.”
Darian chuckled softly. “Well, if you’ve come to defend your ownership of Dunhelm, I’m sorry to tell you that you’ve come too late to make a difference. Mr. Russell and I have already had numerous discussions and it’s quite clear that our recommendation to the government will be that Dunhelm be made an historic site.” He smirked. “With no resort development.”
“Our recommendation is far from decided,” Mr. Russell interjected tightly.
“Is that so?” Darian asked silkily.
But Baird flashed a glance to Aurelia. “I didn’t come for Dunhelm,” he said quietly. Aurelia’s heart rose to her throat as he crossed the room with purpose. “I came for something much more important than any piece of property could be.”
Baird offered Aurelia his hand, uncertainty lurking in his eyes. “Can we talk, princess?” he asked, the words for her ears alone.
Aurelia reached out but before she could put her hand in his, Darian interrupted.
“I’m not sure it’s terribly appropriate for you to be exchanging secrets with my fiancée,” he said coldly.
Baird’s gaze flicked to him, then back to Aurelia. Disbelief shone in his eyes. “Is this true?” he demanded incredulously. “Are you going to marry him?”
Aurelia fidgeted. “I did agree to his proposal, but you must understand…”
Baird dropped his hand and stepped away. “There’s nothing to understand,” he retorted and spun away from her.
“No! Baird, you must listen!” Aurelia cried, but Baird kept on walking. The stiff set of his shoulders told her that this time he would not be back.
But Aurelia was not going to let Baird Beauforte walk out of her life again, at least not without knowing exactly what was in his heart.
And she knew exactly how she was going to get his attention.
“How unfortunate that the course of love does not run true,” Darian murmured mockingly.
Aurelia stormed over to the display he had carefully prepared of the found artifacts and snatched up the replica he had made of her crossbow.
“Hey! You can’t take that!”
“I can and I will.” Aurelia snatched up a trio of arrows and glared at the man who had ruined her chances for happiness so many times. “You owe me no less.”
*
Baird couldn’t believe that Aurelia would marry Darian Mulvaney. He wouldn’t have believed it, if she hadn’t admitted it herself. He stormed across the perfect lawn, furious with her and with himself. How could he have been so dumb to hope she cared for him?
Something whizzed past Baird, within a finger’s breadth of his ear, and made him jump.
The fired arrow buried itself in the turf ahead, the fleche quivering with the force of its landing.
Baird glanced over his shoulder, only to see Aurelia loading her crossbow for another shot. She looked like a vengeful pixie with her hair cropped so short.
She lifted the crossbow and aimed straight for him.
That was enough! Baird stood his ground and flung out his hands. “Why in the hell are you trying to kill me?” he roared in frustration. “You’re the one who wants to marry someone else!”
Aurelia lowered the crossbow for a heartbeat and her tone was grim. “If I wanted to kill you, Baird Beauforte, that arrow would never have missed.”
Before Baird could make sense of that, Aurelia cocked the crossbow and fired. Her next shot landed quivering an inch in front of his well-polished wingtips.
Baird danced backward.
And the way Aurelia proudly lifted her chin told Baird that that was precisely where she had intended for arrow to be.
He cleared his throat and propped his hands on his hips. “Then what do you want?”
To his relief, she lowered the weapon and strode across the turf, challenge bright in her magnificent eyes. “To get your attention.”
Baird shoved a hand through his hair. If nothing else, the woman could keep him guessing!
“Consider it yours.” He studied her as she closed the distance between them. Aurelia looked more fragile than she had before, despite her defiant manner. Perhaps it was her cropped hair, or the faint shadows beneath her eyes.
“I do not want to wed Darian Mulvaney,” she said flatly. “He is Bard, son of Erc, and true to his foul character, he cornered me so that I had no choice but to agree.”
She took a ragged breath as Baird came to terms with that. “He declared he would not destroy all you had built if I took his hand, and I know full well that Dunhelm is of all import to you.”
Aurelia impaled Baird with a bright glance. “I would not see you lose all you hold dear, so I made this concession though it went against my own heart and mind.”
They stared at each other.
Aurelia didn’t want to marry Darian!
&n
bsp; But she had been going to do it for him.
Baird was humbled by her confession and wondered suddenly what Aurelia’s heart desired, if it wasn’t Darian.
She gestured resignedly to the well behind them, apparently misinterpreting his silence. “I have had my say, for whatever it is worth, and you should go back if you mean to influence their decision. It is why you are here, after all.”
Baird’s heart began to pound. “Princess, I didn’t know anything about this meeting. It’s not why I came back.”
She lifted her gaze to his and Baird’s gut wrenched at her uncertainty. “Then, why?”
“I came back for you,” he said simply and her eyes widened in surprise.
Well, even if she didn’t like the idea, Baird had to know the truth.
“I love you, princess. I should never have left in the first place.” Baird swallowed before he could continue, Aurelia’s silence eroding his nerve. His voice was hoarse. “I had to know whether you could love me.”
“Oh. Oh!”
Baird was not expecting Aurelia to throw herself into his arms with such enthusiasm. When she rained kisses all over his face, his heart swelled enough to burst and Baird wondered how he could have ever doubted her.
He would never do it again.
Ever.
Aurelia caught his face in her tiny hands and stared deeply into his eyes. “I love you with all my heart and soul, Baird Beauforte.” Her words were fierce and she glared up at him. “Do not even dream of leaving me like that again.”
Baird laughed in his relief. He waggled his eyebrows at her. “Mmm, I wouldn’t want to have to answer for that,” he teased and swung her high into the air.
Aurelia wrapped her arms around his neck and smiled just before Baird kissed her soundly. Aurelia’s embrace was welcoming, familiar and tantalizing, her tongue reminding him all too well of the pleasures they could give each other.
For all time.
“What do you say to a wedding, princess?” he growled against her throat and Aurelia pulled back.
A twinkle lurked in the depths of her eyes. “Are you certain you would wed a woman whose womb is already full?”
Baird blinked. “You’re pregnant?”
Aurelia tapped him in the middle of his chest, a coy smile curving her lips. “With your seed, sir. I shall expect you to make an honest woman of me.”
He was going to be a father! The prospect was both exciting and terrifying. But thanks to the dreams he and Aurelia had shared, Baird had a better model for parenthood than he had had before.
Baird pulled Aurelia close, barely able to believe that his life could be so filled with promise for the future. “How soon can you be ready for that wedding, princess?”
Aurelia answered him with an enthusiastic kiss.
When he finally lifted his lips from hers, Baird ran his fingers through the short remainder of Aurelia’s hair. “Why did you cut it?” he asked, unable to keep the disappointment from his voice.
Aurelia grimaced. “It is a long tale that I will tell you sometime.” She smiled up at him. “Suffice to say that it was a price well worth paying.”
“Really?” Baird knew his skepticism showed.
She tilted her head pertly. “Do you not like it short?”
Baird rubbed a thumb across Aurelia’s lips and fought not to grin. “You know, I wouldn’t have said anything, princess, but you did ask. It, um, it makes you look awfully cute…”
Aurelia straightened proudly. “I am not cute! I am a warrior princess!”
Baird bent and plucked one of the arrows from the grass, waving it playfully beneath her nose. “Cupid’s own weapon of choice,” he told her with a smile. “But he never had such good aim.”
“I do not understand.”
“It’s an old story of a god who makes people fall in love.” Baird twirled the arrow. “By piercing their hearts with a magic arrow.” He sobered as he held her gaze. “Just as you pierced mine.”
Aurelia snuggled against him, her eyes shining. “I had no such magic, but I like the tale well enough.” She fingered her hair. “And fear not, my hair will not only grow again but be all the thicker for the change.”
“Good.” Baird bent and kissed her soundly, loving how her curves fit perfectly against him.
As though they were made for each other.
*
“Our recommendation is far from established, despite your apparent certainty,” Colin informed the confident young man before him.
“My intention is clear,” Darian retorted.
“But you are not the deciding force within the society,” Colin said tightly. He scanned the display mockingly, not liking at all that the site had not been cordoned off properly. “Your work here is amateurish and threatens serious scholarship on what might be a critical site for our understanding of the Picts.”
“Careful, Mr. Russell,” Darian said softly.
“I will not be careful! You have lied to me and manipulated me long enough!” Colin puffed out his chest. “And I do not appreciate that you have misrepresented Mr. Beauforte’s interests in all of this. In our brief discussion, he has shown a marked willingness to work with us in exploring this site.”
Darian grimaced. “He just wants to protect his investment.”
“And I see no reason why he should not.”
The two men stared at each other, then Darian smiled slowly. “But it doesn’t really matter what you think, does it, Mr. Russell?”
“Of course, it matters!” Colin blustered. “Whether you like it or not, young man, I am the founder and president of the National Heritage Preservation Society and my will matters considerably more than yours!” He jabbed a finger through the air. “You are removed from our staff, Mr. Mulvaney!”
“No, Mr. Russell, that’s not how it’s going to be.” Darian unfolded himself and crossed the room. He paused directly before Colin, menace in every line of his body. “Not agreeing with me is a mistake you’ll regret. You’re going to make me the president and deciding voice of the society and you’re going to do it today.”
“I will do no such thing! The society is mine!”
“Not without Mrs. Russell’s support,” Darian threatened.
“Why, you cocky young pup!” Before he considered what he was doing, Colin shoved the man so intent on destroying everything of merit in his life.
Darian cried out, obviously not expecting the older man’s rage. Colin meant only to push him hard, but Darian slipped on the damp floor.
And fell, his head cracking against the lip of the ritual well.
Colin gasped as the younger man’s limp body slid into the murky water. He couldn’t bring himself to go any closer. His first response was a rush of pure freedom, his second outright terror.
What had he done?
And what would this cost his beloved society?
*
A bellow from the well was the only thing that could have made Baird stop kissing Aurelia. They stepped apart, exchanged a glance of confusion, then Baird snatched up her hand and they ran across the lawn together.
They darted down the stairs and paused at the bottom. It was only now that Baird noticed the open square on the opposite side of the chamber from the slab that had served as Aurelia’s bed. A stone rim about two feet in height surrounded it and Darian was sprawled across that rim. His feet dangled above the floor, his head and shoulders weren’t visible. Mr. Russell was backed against the far wall, his expression horrified.
Baird crossed the floor with three long strides and reached into the well to lift Darian’s head from the dark water. There was an ugly gash on his temple where he had evidently hit the stone and the water below was tinted red.
There was no pulse at Darian’ throat.
“He’s dead,” Baird said numbly.
Bard, son of Erc, was dead. Baird felt suddenly that an ominous shadow that he had barely acknowledged no longer dogged his footsteps.
“He slipped and fell,” Mr. Russell de
clared quickly. “It was an accident.” His expression showed that he did not regret the fact, although his explanation didn’t exactly ring true.
Aurelia lingered on the stairs, her own lips tightening at the news. “Like father, like son,” she whispered and crossed her arms over her chest.
Baird glanced up, knowing she wouldn’t regret this death any more than he did.
But her words made him remember that Erc had died in Hekod’s victory over Dunhelm. Baird scanned the chamber, then looked to Mr. Russell. “What exactly is this place?”
Mr. Russell brightened at the chance to explain. “It’s a ritual well, markedly like the one at Burghead, but in fine condition. The details here, the door and so forth, are astonishing in their complexity and frankly, I can’t wait for the opportunity to explore them at leisure.”
“But what’s it for?”
“The Picts used ritual wells for the drowning of undesirables in their society. A sort of capital punishment, if you will.” Mr. Russell peered over the stone lip of the well. “The water is likely only four or five feet deep - usually rainwater accumulated by some clever means - but the typical victim had no chance to escape. The beauty of it is that their death would not taint the water supply of the settlement.”
Baird’s scalp prickled. “What kind of undesirables?”
“Traitors,” Aurelia said flatly. “And much-loathed kings.”
Baird met her gaze and understood.
This was where Erc had drowned.
And not of his own choice.
Mr. Russell smiled, quite unruffled by the loss of one of his employees. “Quite. I’m certain we’ll find some very interesting relics once we pump out the water here. Could we sign that agreement shortly, Mr. Beauforte? I’d like to get a team working here.”
“First, “ Baird said grimly, “we’d better call the police. “
*
In one of the smaller conference rooms on the sixty-fifth floor of Beauforte Resorts’ Manhattan Retreat, Julian dropped the firm’s best and final offer onto the cherry table with a disdainful flick of his wrist.
Time Travel Romances Boxed Set Page 33