Cold Fusion (31 page)

From beaming schoolgirl to lady of the manor, in one breath. Her mutations were unpredictable and perfect. Even Viv was a bit astonished—she’d just out-lairded the laird, on purest instinct. I tried not to catch his eye. Some people were born to be rich, and he wasn’t one of them. His sister was. She would hold North Kerra in the palm of her hand, use her funds with a wisdom and discretion to equal her father’s, and if people felt patronised, that would be their own bloody problem. She was magnificent.

“Of course.” I forced the unsteadiness of laughter out of my voice. “The poets of the Highland shores are duly thankful.”

She inclined her head graciously. “Well, they’re very talented. Don’t feel neglected, Vivian—I have something for you too. Alfred, would you mind bringing the box?”

“Right away, my lady.”

Viv came to my side and watched apprehensively while Alfred set down his paper. He took a small rosewood box out of the Rover’s back seat. It was about the size of a Victorian writing case, inlaid with mother of pearl.

“We were clearing out one of the attics,” Cressida explained, lifting the lid, “and we came across this. I don’t suppose I’ll ever understand the work you and Hugo were doing, but Alfred thought this might be helpful.”

A long time ago, Alfred had wanted him to grieve for his father. There could be no doubt in anyone’s mind now that the loss had bulldozed him, sent him so far into his solitary soul that he’d almost been unable to return. His colour had vanished, and his hands were unsteady as he took the box from the old man. “This was my dad’s?”

I’d never heard him call his father that before—
dad
, as if he’d been an ordinary kid with an ordinary, desperately well-loved parent. It startled Cressida too.

“Oh, no,” she said. “I’d never have just dumped something of his on you. We think this belonged to his grandfather, our great-grandfather Theodore, who dug out all the tunnels for the hydropower, and…”

“And discovered the calderium.” Viv lifted the box, turning it towards the dockyard floodlights so he could see the label neatly glued inside the lid. It was yellowed with age, but the typewritten print was still legible. I leaned in to read past his shoulder.
Unidentified element from hydroelectrical blasting site near land known as Spindrift, Calder estate. Samples for metallurgical assay.
“Stupid of me. I thought he must have found it near the castle, in the grounds somewhere. But of course it would be in the hydro tunnels, deep inside the earth.”

I was several steps behind him. “What’s an assay?”

“A compositional analysis, of course.”

“Ask a silly question… What does it mean?”

“I think it might mean…” He lifted out the soft protective cloth that had been folded into the box. Beneath it gleamed three large chunks of silvery rock. The metal, still embedded in its matrix, looked nothing like the smooth cathode rod in the Spindrift labs. “Yes. It means I have enough to start again.”

“Oh, shit.”

“What do you think?”

“I think I want to throw your damn box into the sea.”

He smiled. He met my eyes with such candour and sweetness that I almost fell at his feet, and he held out the box to me. “If you like.”

Instead I gently lowered the lid. I took it from him and put it back into the Rover. Cressida and Alfred had found something more interesting to watch and were standing at the harbour’s edge, their backs turned. I went back to Viv’s side, laced my fingers through his—drew his hand up and kissed the knuckles. “Do what you have to. I’ll be right here with you, always—whatever you decide.”

“Kier, Vivian! Come and look at this!” Cressida was looking back over her shoulder, her face bright with pleasure. She gestured for us to come and join her, and we made our way over, still holding hands. A huge red winter sun was poised on the horizon, half its disc already consumed by the sea. “Look. Over the bay, at Spindrift.”

Cressida had won her legal battle. Her teams of workmen had been going back and forth for weeks, and the newly built chalets were ready. None of us had expected them to find any occupants until the end of winter. I shielded my eyes and realised that the lights in their windows were more than a reflection from the sun.

Ordinary lights for now, powered by a generator. Who knew what the future held? There were headlights too, threading their unsteady way down the track. Even from this distance, I could make out the shape of a Volkswagen bus. Spindrift’s reborn legend had reached out like a beacon in the night, and the lost souls who were best equipped to hear it were finding their way home.

I wrapped my arms around Viv’s waist and held him tight.

About the Author

Harper Fox is the author of many critically acclaimed M/M romance novels, including Stonewall Book Award-nominated
Scrap Metal
and
Brothers of the Wild North Sea
, Publishers Weekly Best Book 2013. Her novels and novellas are powerfully sensual, with a dynamic of strongly developed characters finding love and a forever future—after an appropriate degree of turmoil. She loves to show the romance implicit in everyday life, and she writes a sharp action scene too.

To find out more about Harper and see updates on her current writing projects, please visit
www.harperfox.net
.

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This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.

Samhain Publishing, Ltd.

11821 Mason Montgomery Road Suite 4B

Cincinnati OH 45249

Cold Fusion

Copyright © 2016 by Harper Fox

ISBN: 978-1-61923-022-4

Edited by Sasha Knight

Cover by Kanaxa

All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

First
Samhain Publishing, Ltd.
electronic publication: January 2016

www.samhainpublishing.com