“That’s as good as it gets,” he informed Marissa. “You won’t get another dime.”
He braced himself for her response, a part of him admiring the way Marissa fought for what she thought she deserved. He was kind of looking forward to going another round.
Little did Julian know that the document hit the table at the exact same moment that Darian’s skull cracked on the stone lip of the ritual well.
To Julian’s complete amazement, Marissa took one look at the contract and burst into tears.
“Aw, now, come on, that’s not fair!” He shifted his weight awkwardly from foot to foot, but Marissa just wailed. Julian wagged his finger at her with bravado. “If you think you’re going to make a better deal by using those feminine tricks on me, you’ve got another think coming!”
Marissa wept.
Julian fidgeted. He had only one weakness that he acknowledged. He just couldn’t bear to see a woman cry.
“You know, I don’t appreciate this,” Julian said, trying to sound unaffected by her tears. “I expect better of you, Marissa. I thought you’d fight the good fight here.”
“I can’t believe how badly I messed up!” Marissa wailed, mascara streaming down her cheeks. Julian squirmed before this unexpected display of emotion.
Marissa wiped at her tears and smeared makeup across her cheeks. “I don’t know what I was thinking,” she confessed, then buried her face in her hands. “I never wanted to marry Baird, really. I knew he wasn’t interested in me. I just had this idea that I should get to marry him. It just got into my mind and I couldn’t rid of it.”
She looked up at Julian through her tears. “Have you ever really, really wanted something, more than anything in the world, then been relieved when you couldn’t actually have it?”
“Well.” Julian frowned. “There once was this Calvin Klein suit that I really coveted, but then I saw it on some guy and it made him look so old.” Julian shuddered in recollection and Marissa smiled.
“Well, something like that,” she acknowledged softly.
Julian looked up at the odd sound of her voice and found himself snared by a very alluring dark gaze. Julian realized in that moment that Marissa was actually quite an attractive woman. When she smiled at him like this, well, it tingled some part of him that hadn’t tingled in quite a while.
He pulled his new Gucci hankerchief from his pocket and offered its perfect whiteness to her without a second thought.
She blew her nose enthusiastically and wiped away tears and makeup. “It’s all right, I don’t expect you to understand,” she informed him. “It’s crazy and I halfway don’t believe it myself.”
To Julian’s surprise, Marissa’s midwest twang wasn’t as offensive as he recalled. And the usual hard edge to her lips was gone, leaving her rather enticingly feminine.
He slid into the chair beside her. “There’s a lot of craziness going around. Try me.”
Marissa wrung his handkerchief in her hands and it didn’t even upset him. “You’ll think I’m nuts, but I always had this horrible feeling bearing down on me, that everybody owed me something, that I had to really fight to get what I deserved and to keep people from snatching away what should be mine.” She glanced to Julian and flushed in a most intriguing way. “Well, it’s just gone.”
Julian again had the sense that the aliens were substituting pod people for everyone around him.
But this was an alien that really intrigued him. “What do you mean, gone?”
“All that bitterness, it just went away when you gave me that contract.” Marissa frowned. “I feel empty, like someone waved a magic wand or something. I feel free.”
She shrugged as though she was suddenly self-conscious. “Like I said, it’s nuts. I guess that’s why I cried, it’s so weird to be without all that anger driving me on.” She smiled up at him. “Feels kind of good, actually.”
Julian pursed his lips as his heart lurched. “Nothing crazy about feeling good.”
Marissa laughed in a self-deprecating way that he wouldn’t have ever expected to hear. “Well, I shouldn’t have said anything.” She fingered the contract, flipping through it quickly but not reading the terms. “I guess I fought too hard for Baird. It’s kind of embarrassing to think about how I threw myself at him.”
“You were persistent, I’ll give you that.”
Marissa shrugged and wiped away the last remnants of her tears. “I behaved really badly over this, but Baird is a decent guy. The way I see it, any settlement is more than I deserved.”
“The cash is pretty good,” Julian admitted, still trying to make sense of the woman before him. He told her the page, Marissa turned and her eyes sparkled with delight.
“Oh, you know, I could set up the most darling little shop with that!” She leaned across and pressed his hand, and Julian, oddly enough, had no desire to pull away. “I probably shouldn’t say this, but hotel rooms are so boring to design. Baird did me a favor here - I’m ready for something with a little more meat on the bone.”
And before Julian’s amazed eyes, Marissa signed a settlement agreement that she hadn’t even read. He coughed into his hand. “I really think you should read the terms…”
Marissa laughed. “Why? The money’s good, there’s probably a non-compete, but I don’t want to compete with Beauforte Resorts anyhow. I’m going to try something different, make a new start.”
She looked down and seemed to notice the condition of Julian’s handkerchief for the first time. “Oh, I can’t believe I did this. Look, Julian, I’ll get you another one. I’ve seen them at that new shop, Abernathy’s.”
“Yeah, I bought it there.”
Marissa’s eyes shone. “Don’t they have the most wonderful things? There’s this fuchsia cocktail dress that has absolutely stolen my heart away” - she wrinkled her nose - “but it might be a little too flashy.”
“The one in the window?” When Marissa nodded, Julian waved off her concerns. “You could carry it easily with your coloring, as long as you had an appropriate event to wear it to.”
“Mmm.” Marissa jammed the handkerchief and contract into her purse. “Well, I guess shopkeepers don’t go to those kind of parties very often,” she commented with a smile devoid of malice. “I’ll keep it in mind, though. See you around, Julian.”
Marissa got to her feet and made for the door, but Julian wasn’t quite ready to see the last of her.
“Tell you what, Mort.” Marissa glanced back in surprise and Julian shoved his hands nervously into his pockets. “You buy that dress and we’ll go to Sebastien’s farewell dinner together.”
“I don’t have an invitation.”
“I have two.”
Marissa chewed her lip. “I don’t know if I should. I mean, I’m not with the company any more and wouldn’t want to embarrass Baird.”
“He’s not even going to be here. Think about it, Mort. Sebastien’s farewell feast to Manhattan. Portobello mushrooms…” Julian teased and Marissa caught her breath before she laughed.
“Oh, Julian, you’re making my mouth water!”
“Well, then?”
They eyed each other warily, and Julian thought he saw an answering glimmer of excitement in Marissa’s eyes.
“You don’t have to do this, Julian,” she said softly.
“I want to.”
And he did. “Besides, it’s my obligation as Beauforte’s legal counsel to make sure you understand the ramifications of the agreement you just signed.”
Marissa laughed out loud. “Bull! You didn’t cough before you said that!”
Julian felt his color rise.
“You just want an excuse to buy that black Hugo Boss tux they have at Abernathy’s!”
Julian caught at his heart as though he had been lethally wounded. “Caught! The lady’s too smart for me.” Marissa laughed again and Julian felt oddly light-hearted.
Better the devil you know, after all. He had seen Marissa at her worst and still loved matching wits with her.
>
And her best was looking very, very promising.
“So, what do you say?”
Marissa smiled, revealing a pair of enchanting dimples. “How could I possibly refuse?”
Julian crossed and took Marissa’s elbow, liking the waft of perfume that tickled his nose. “Could I see you out, Ms. Witlowe?”
Her dark eyes twinkled. “Via Abernathy’s?”
Julian coughed deliberately. “I could offer counsel on that dress.”
“Oh, and we wouldn’t go near the men’s department!”
Julian frowned with sudden concern. “Marissa, you don’t think the tux is too staid, do you? I don’t want to look old.”
“Well, maybe they way they have it displayed it looks conservative, but I tell you, Julian, I saw this jacquard vest and bowtie at Bloomingdales that just screamed your name…”
“Ooh! What color?”
“Framboise. It was absolutely luscious - elegant, yet audacious, you know? It was perfect!” She practically dragged him to the elevator. “Come on, I’ll show you!”
And Julian was only to happy to go.
*
Epilogue
It was a glorious day for a wedding. The sun sparkled on the sea and Aurelia awakened with anticipation filling her heart.
Baird’s single comment that he preferred traditional weddings had opened the issue of whose traditions to follow. Aurelia had vetoed the very idea of having a priest officiate, while Baird had not taken well to the idea of entertaining everyone within a day’s sail of Dunhelm for three days and nights.
In the end, they had decided on a morning handfasting in the gardens. A quiet ceremony with their friends alone, at Dunhelm to close the circle of what had been begun here so many years before.
And on the morrow, the Beauforte Dunhelm Resort would open with a fanfare. Aurelia had laughed aloud when Baird unveiled the resort’s logo, his wink telling her exactly why a single arrow had been worked into the design.
Cupid’s arrow, indeed.
Aurelia smiled to herself as she dressed. Her dress was simply cut and wrought of ivory silk. It fit her figure smoothly, flaring to swirl around her ankles and leaving her shoulders bare. There was a band of embroidery in the same creamy shades across the neckline and around the hem. She had decided to make her vows barefoot and had told Baird as much.
Just to keep his interest.
Aurelia eyed her reflection critically once she was dressed and hoped her hair would grow back quickly. The power of the Dreaming was vastly diminished without her hair and even when the locks grew back, Aurelia knew they would never have their former strength.
She could not blame Baird for preferring it long, for she did as well, but given her choice and the same circumstance, she gladly would cut it again. It had been a small price to pay for Baird’s happiness.
And what need did Aurelia have of the Dreaming when everything she had ever desired awaited her in Dunhelm’s garden?
There came a knock on the door and Aurelia knew it was Talorc. When she learned of the custom of fathers escorting their daughters down the aisle, she had immediately asked Talorc for his aid. The old man had unabashedly blinked back a tear before he agreed.
And today, he looked as splendid in his tux as an older Julian might. He winked at Aurelia. “Are you sure about this young man of yours, Miss Aurelia?” he demanded gruffly, the merry twinkle in his eye belying his protective tone.
“Oh yes.” Aurelia felt herself flush, but Talorc merely smiled and offered her his elbow with a paternal air.
And as they left her room, Aurelia could feel Gemma’s presence keeping step.
*
A harp was playing as they stepped out onto the lawn and Aurelia’s smile widened when she saw Baird.
This time he waited for her, his hands folded before himself, his morning suit impeccably cut. The suit emphasized the broad width of his shoulders, showing his height and lean strength to advantage.
Baird’s eyes glowed as Aurelia stepped into the circle of roses and stephanotis laid in the grass. She thought her heart might burst when the heat of his hand closed over hers. They clasped hands left in left, right in right, and faced each other before the crashing sea. The wind lifted her skirts ever so slightly as she smiled up at the man who held her heart.
“Ready, princess?” he murmured.
Just past Baird’s shoulder, Aurelia saw the faint shadow of the King of Inverness and his wife, their faces wreathed in proud smiles. And Julian was there beside Baird, Thord’s mischievous smile dancing on his lips. She looked back to Talorc and caught a glimpse of her father in his blue eyes, then Gemma/Ursilla’s merry twinkle right beside a glowing Elizabeth.
Beyond them all lingered three figures in white, the Nairns themselves who wove the fate of all men into their cloth, the features of three great priestesses cast like shadows upon their faces. Even the women who had graced Aurelia with their gifts now came to wish her well.
She and Baird were not alone, they never had been. On this long-fated day, they were surrounded by all the ones who had loved them so dearly, in this life and all others.
The pulse of Baird’s child murmured in her belly of the future and Aurelia turned back to Baird with tears shimmering in her eyes. “I love you so very much,” she whispered.
Baird’s lips tugged in the half-smile that heated Aurelia’s blood. “I’ll take that as a yes,” he murmured. When Aurelia smiled in turn, he squeezed her fingers, the began to recite the vows they had written themselves.
Aurelia watched as Baird pledged himself to her, his voice ringing with quiet conviction. She did not falter in her own oath, then Baird slid a simple gold band onto Aurelia’s finger. The heat of his hand lingered over her own.
“And so it was,” Aurelia said softly.
“And so it is,” Baird concurred.
They stared into each other’s eyes and simultaneously declared. “And so it always shall be.”
And when Aurelia turned laughingly into the hail of rose petals, she saw that the shadows of those gone before had faded like the morning mist. The power of their love lingered in her heart, and Aurelia knew it always would be there.
Just as she knew even when this life was far behind them, the wheel of life would circle once more. She and Baird would return, they would find each other and share again the power of a love that never died. The threads of their destinies were woven tightly together and would remain entangled for all time.
So it was.
So it is.
And so it always would be.
*
Author’s Note
Dunhelm, of course, does not truly exist, although it is an amalgamation of many Scottish castles that I have had the good fortune to visit. In my mind’s eye, it occupies the northwest tip of the island of Rousay in the Orkney Islands, though - of course! - you won’t find it there.
Nor will you find a description of the Picts in any book as they appear here. As Talorc’s fictional book indicates, there is very little actually known of the Picts, other than their apparent preference for tattoos and for carving monumental stones. Aurelia’s stone is consistent with the symbolism of Pictish stones - with the exception of the image of Aurelia herself - though the interpretation is entirely my own. When in doubt, I’ve given the Picts characteristics and/or habits known of the Celts, since the prevalent theory is that the Picts are descendants of the Celts.
Since the Picts left no records other than their List of Kings, their religious beliefs are also unknown. I’ve taken the liberty of making them pagans, like the Celts, and their religion Goddess-based, as was common throughout Europe before the wave of conversions to Christianity. Neo-pagans and students of European paganism will recognize the triple aspect of the Goddess, as well as Her association with the moon.
The Stones of Stemness on the Orkney Islands are as described, though no interpretation of their positioning exists as explained in the text. These stones form the oldest ‘henge’ in Europe, t
hough, and studies of others like them - for example, Stonehenge - have revealed their ancient use as observatories. Aurelia’s name for the Stones of Stemness and the nearby Ring of Brodgar are my own invention - both circles were named in the nineteenth century, so needs demanded she call them something else.
The fertility festival of Eostre was celebrated by European pagans, most particularly the Saxons (who passed the event to the Norse). The Moon of Eostre began on the first full moon after the spring equinox, and was the time when the Goddess was “pregnant” with the promise of the growing season. The festival also marked the Goddess’ victory over the underworld and her triumphant return to the land of the living - bringing spring and rebirth in her wake - an aspect echoed in the Christian celebration of Easter.
In addition, Christianity adopted the timing of Easter (which is still calculated on Roman calendars as the first Sunday after the first full moon after the spring equinox) from this festival, as well as the fertility symbols of the egg and the bunny.
The egg as a symbol of birth and renewal is pretty self-explanatory, but the bunny’s symbolism has nothing to do with that creature’s reproductive abilities! Many ancient cultures saw a Moon-hare in the full moon instead what we commonly call the Man in the Moon. Since the full moon symbolized the Goddess at the height of her power, the hare (or bunny) became sacred to Her.
So, next time the moon is full, take a good look at those dark marks and decide what you see!
*
The Last Highlander
Scotland, 1314. After the Scots reclaim Edinburgh Castle, Alasdair MacAuley only wants to celebrate. But the revels are interrupted by an old crone who claims the castles true owner is the legendary witch Morgaine le Fee. Dared by his fellow warriors to go meet the witch, Alasdair heads down a flight of stairs – and tumbles right into another century…
Time Travel Romances Boxed Set Page 34