Claire Delacroix (36 page)

“I may have hinted at such an eventuality, darling. You know, even Darian has said how absolutely perfect we are for each other -”

“Like hell we are!” Baird snapped. “And what’s this garbage about our spending last night together?”

Marissa’s eyelashes fluttered. “Baird, darling! Don’t let’s air all our personal details before the staff!” She smiled coyly and returned to painting her nails. “You’ll have me blushing, darling!”

Baird bent and snatched away the brush, the move leaving a ruby trail across Marissa’s toe. She looked up at him, alarm lighting her dark eyes for the first time.

The idea that this woman’s malicious lies could cost him any chance at persuading Aurelia he was sincere made Baird see red.

“Enough lies,” he said sharply. “Time to tell everyone the truth, Marissa. Did we or did we not spend the night together?”

Marissa swallowed. She looked to the group of people avidly listening and her cheeks flamed. “We didn’t actually, darling, but we could have.” She tried to smile, but Baird wasn’t satisfied.

Aurelia’s hand was still cold in his.

“Have we ever slept together?”

Marissa’s lashes fluttered. “Well, no, not actually.”

“Actually?”

Her lips tightened with the concession. “Not at all.”

Baird straightened and folded Aurelia’s hand more securely into his. She was listening, but he couldn’t begin to guess what she was thinking.

They might as well have it all as clear as crystal. “Have I ever done anything to make you think that we might?”

Marissa’s expression turned mutinous. “No.” She plucked the brush from Baird’s fingers and jammed it back into the bottle, shoving her feet petulantly back into her slippers. “Have you finished humiliating me?” she demanded in a hostile undertone.

But Baird was fed up with Marissa’s interference and troublemaking. It was more than time to do what he had suspected needed doing a long time ago.

“Have you finished the drawings for the Series B guestrooms?”

Marissa sulked. “No, not exactly.”

“Series C?”

“No.”

“The tower restaurant?”

She fired a glance of loathing at Baird. “No.”

“Have you done anything since you got here besides complain and upset Aurelia?”

Marissa pushed angrily to her feet and propped her hands on her hips. Her ruby lips drew to a mean line and she sent her British accent packing. “Now, you listen to me, Baird Beauforte, and you listen good. You’re making a fool of yourself with this nobody who doesn’t even know how to dress, let alone how to get by in the real world. She’s far too stupid for a man like you -”

“That’s enough.” Baird turned crisply to Julian whose eyes were snapping. “When does Marissa’s contract come up for renewal?”

“April thirtieth,” that man supplied with a telltale smile.

“You wouldn’t!” Marissa breathed.

“I would,” Baird asserted. “I don’t need people on my staff who don’t pull their weight, let alone those who spread rumors and deliberately hurt people close to me.”

He gave Aurelia’s fingers a squeeze so she wouldn’t miss the reference and heard her catch her breath.

“Pack your bags, Marissa, and dig out that return ticket that Beauforte Resorts paid for. You’re leaving Dunhelm and as far as I’m concerned, you’ve already left Beauforte Resorts. Your compensation will be paid through the end of your contract. I’ll call New York and let them know that you’ll clean out your desk by the end of the week.”

Marissa’s face contorted with a very unflattering rage and her fists clenched. “You can’t do this!”

“Actually he can,” Julian supplied smoothly, then coughed into his hand as he crossed the room. “That’s the true beauty of an employment contract. A per-annum deal has some major advantages on the employers’ side of the situation beginning with...”

Marissa spun to face the lawyer. “Shut up!” She wagged a warning finger at Baird, her voice rising hysterically. “I’ll fight you! I’ll fight you all! I won’t let you get away with this! I’ll see you in court! “

Marissa stormed from the hall and Julian had the good sense to jump out of her path.

As soon as she had left, Baird heaved a sigh of relief. The air was better in here already.

Julian grinned and rubbed his hands together. “Oh, I can hardly wait. This is the moment I’ve been dreaming of,” he gloated, then winked at Baird. “There is a God, and she loves me very much.”

But Baird didn’t care about Marissa and Julian any more. He turned back to Aurelia, his heart leaping when he saw the shadow of suspicion banished from her eyes.

A tentative hope shone in those blue depths.

“You truly were not going to wed her?” she whispered.

Baird smiled and drew her close, his heart swelling with the new feelings he had discovered. “Never crossed my mind,” he murmured, tipping Aurelia’s face up to his and sliding his thumb across the fullness of her lip. “How could I marry anyone else when I love you, princess?”

Aurelia’s lips parted with astonishment, but Baird kissed her into silence. Her arms twined around his neck and she pressed herself against him, as if she too wanted to meld their very flesh together.

Elizabeth hummed cheerfully as she bustled back into her little alcove.

It was some minutes later that Baird lifted his head reluctantly and stared into Aurelia’s eyes. He could feel the pulse of her heart against his chest and grinned that it raced as quickly as his own.

“Why did you go to Inverness?”

“I had to find something I’d lost.”

“What?” she asked breathlessly.

“My heart,” Baird confirmed with a smile. “Just so I could give it to you.”

She flushed and suddenly Baird wanted to have her all to himself. He leaned down and whispered into her ear. “Princess, I could really use a shower. Care to join me?”

Aurelia wrinkled her nose playfully. “The road from Inverness is long and dirty indeed.” She smiled coyly up at him, a very promising glint in her eyes. “Perhaps I could scrub your back.”

“Princess, you can scrub any part of me you want,” Baird growled and when she laughed, he ushered her unceremoniously towards the stairs.

* * *

From the shadowed entrance of the ritual well, Darian watched an obviously infuriated Marissa march out to the helicopter. She snarled at Tex and practically threw her hand baggage at that man, hoisting herself into the chopper. Marissa folded her arms across her chest and waiting regally for the pilot to load her trunks.

If she had been a cartoon character, a black storm cloud would have lingered over her head.

Unless Darian had missed his guess, Auntie Drustic had struck out.

He fiddled in the well until he heard the helicopter lift off, then sauntered back into the hall. The only sound that carried to his ears was Elizabeth’s merry humming.

And that woman would be the best source of news.

“Something smells good,” Darian declared cheerfully.

The older woman turned with a smile, twin spots of color burning in her cheeks. “Oh, Mr. Mulvaney, you’ve missed all the excitement!”

“Did I now? Well, as long as I haven’t missed one of your wonderful dinners.”

“Oh, Mr. Mulvaney, you’ve enough charm to even make an old maid blush!” Then she giggled. “But that Mr. Beauforte, well, he’d put any man’s charm in the shade. You should have seen what he just did. Like something you’d see on the telly, it was.”

Darian hid the slow burn of irritation that he had been compared to Baird and found lacking. “Really?” he managed to ask.

“Oh, yes!” Elizabeth’s eyes sparkled and she leaned closer. “Mr. Beauforte went to Inverness this morning and that Ms. Witlowe was telling anyone who would listen that he had gone to fetch her a diamond ring. Well! Aurelia was right upset about it all, and who could blame the wee lamb. Why, even the most daft among us could see that there is something special between her and Mr. Beauforte.”

“Anyone.” Darian gritted out the word, then forced a smile. “Well, did he bring an engagement ring?”

Elizabeth’s scornful expression said it all. “Not our Mr. Beauforte, he’s a gentleman right and proper.” She jabbed a finger through the air at Darian for emphasis. “Not only did he set everyone straight on Ms. Witlowe’s lies but he fired her from the company.”

She dropped her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “I think it was only because she had hurt Aurelia’s feelings, though there was some talk of Ms. Witlowe not fulfilling her contract.”

“Then what happened?”

Elizabeth drew herself up proudly. “Well, I didn’t linger about once Mr. Beauforte and Aurelia started to kiss. It was so romantic, just like one of those wee books my sister Mary likes to read.”

She sighed with delight. “I just know they’ll be so happy together, Mr. Mulvaney. If ever there was a pair made for each other, it’s those two.”

She bustled away to check on her dinner and missed the anger that Darian couldn’t keep from his features. “Now, you’d best leave me to fixing dinner or there’ll be nothing to eat on this night!” Elizabeth chuckled to herself. “Not that I imagine Aurelia or Mr. Beauforte would notice!”

Darian turned and stalked out of the hall, irritated beyond belief that Marissa had failed so completely. But even so, Baird and Aurelia wouldn’t live happily ever after if he had anything to say about it.

Fortunately, he had already laid plans for this possibility.

* * *

The dream crept into Baird’s mind on stealthy feet that night, infiltrating his sleep before he could stop it. He fought against it, even as he saw himself descending the steps into the well.

Not again! Everything was sorted out now.

But the dream, characteristically, wasn’t very interested in Baird’s protests.

It was morning this time, the rosy fingers of the sunrise just cresting the horizon behind him and painting the stone steps with a ruddy glow. The world was framed in black and Baird realized from the distortion of the sound of the sea that he wore a metal helmet.

Baird felt a tremendous weight on his shoulders and in his hand. He glanced down at the chain mail that fell to his knees. It rattled slightly as he moved, the blue tunic that hung over it flapped in the breeze. He wore leather gauntlets again, though these were rougher than the green ones had been and plain black.

A red cross was stitched on the chest of his tunic. A heavy blade hung in his hand, its hilt graced with a massive red garnet held in place by gold shaped like a hawk’s claw. And a single thought echoed in his mind:

He had proven himself worthy.

Baird felt the adrenalin course through him as he descended the stairs and hacked back the thorns with his sword. A horse nickered behind him, but he did not look back, knowing with odd certainty that it was his own steed awaiting him.

As did the lady before him.

The dirt of a dozen cities was on his boots and the dust of a thousand miles embedded in his clothes. He knew with sudden clarity that he had not only seen Micklegarth, but that it was the same city his waking mind called Istanbul. It was strange, as though he were of two separate minds, two minds that were rooted in the same.

Baird knew that he was this man, that he was witnessing another of his journeys to find Aurelia. Yet the dream Baird who was living this moment was unaware of the presence of his modern counterpart, let alone that man’s thoughts.

Dream Baird’s thoughts were of crusade and honor, of battles won and lost, of quests to be pursued and one particular fair maiden to be won.

The slab of stone was locked in place, but Baird bent a shoulder to its weight. He called back and a young boy clattered down the stairs, his eyes wide with mingled wonder and fear.

With a start, Baird recognized the pizza boy. Between knight and squire, they forced the slab aside.

And Baird stepped into the darkness once more. His heart raced with fear at what his last dream had revealed, but the Baird of his dreams was blissfully unaware of any danger here.

The medieval knight was hopeful, expectant. Excited. He breathed deeply of the dank air, his spirit buoyed with the promise of lifting some ancient curse.

The knight stepped forward, his squire lingering in the doorway. The pink dawn light streamed down the stairs behind and illuminated the lady sleeping just ahead.

Both Bairds caught their breath at her fragile beauty.

“Aurelia,” breathed the knight. “Lady as lovely as the dawn.” He crossed the floor to drop to one knee beside her. He doffed his glove, laid aside his sword and lifted her pale hand to his lips.

“Lady Aurelia,” he murmured. “I have come.”

And Baird kissed the back of her hand with exquisite grace.

The lady stirred and her face turned toward the knight, her lips parting beneath the early sunlight’s caress.

The knight kissed the inside of Aurelia’s palm. She smiled softly in her sleep. Baird tasted the sweet flesh of her wrist, fragrant even in his dream. His heart pounded as the knight he had once been leaned over the sleeping beauty.

He kissed her brow gently. “Lady Aurelia,” he whispered. “Awaken to me, destiny mine.” The lady stirred ever so slightly and her lashes fluttered.

The squire cried out in sudden terror.

Baird spun to find the boy crumpled to the floor and bleeding copiously. An adversary dressed completely in black leapt into the well, his blade flashing in the ray of early sunlight.

“En garde!” he bellowed and Baird snatched up his blade.

He was surprised at his own ability, but his opponent was stronger, perhaps driven by madness. The masked adversary feinted and dodged, slashed and stabbed, until finally his sword found its mark.

Baird caught his breath at the explosion of pain in his chest and he looked down to where the lethal broadsword had cleaved even his mail. He fell to his knees, fearing for the lady in the presence of this blackguard, as mocking laughter filled his ears.

“Do not imagine that I will let you claim what should be mine!”

* * *

Baird’s eyes flew open in shock, only to find Aurelia’s bright blue gaze fixed upon him. The light of the full moon spilled into the room in peaceful denial of the tumult in his veins.