Heroes Live Forever (Knights in Time) (41 page)

“It is quite grand, I admit,” Gaby said, eyes fixed on Basil’s nose. “But, straight.”

Basil touched a self-conscious finger to the bump on his crooked nose. “Mine was straight, once, a long time ago. As a young knight, I missed the target during a tilt. I took a solid blow in the face by the quintain.” Basil shook his head. “The nose isn’t important.” Depressed, he stepped away. “I don’t think he’s suitable. I’m not sure I want any part of those memories.”

Gaby looked thoughtful and sat on the corner of the bed, hands folded. “These are the only two I have to show you. I cannot guarantee when another opportunity will arise.”

Basil shook his head no again.

“There’s something else you should know,” Gaby added. “Elinor lives. She no longer goes by that name, obviously. But, she lives.”

“Where is she? Tell me.” Basil reached out to grab Gaby by the suit’s lapel, then dropped his hand to his side and tried to calm himself. “I must know. There are promises involved.”

“I am Gaby, not Cupid. I have said all I can on the matter. I need your decision.”

Basil opened his eyes a crack. He felt no pain from the cuts. He expected to. He’d been cut many times in his mortal life and in general most were grievous. He knew little of modern medicine but assumed this painlessness resulted from it. He opened his eyes completely.

“Welcome to your new life, Ian Cherlein.” Gaby patted his leg.

“What about the scars? They are the mark of a coward. I would hate to have other people believe such of me.”

“I can fix that. I am certain my superiors won’t object.”

Basil looked up to say thank you but Gaby was gone along with the scars.

****

Ian watched Alex walk back into Sound City. He stood, throwing down twice as much money as the bill required next to the untouched coffee.

It wasn’t supposed to be this way.

Ian spent the rest of the day chastising himself for suspecting Alex. Miranda seemed genuinely pleased with the flowers. Her reaction helped him rein in his jealousy and concentrate on the details of his plan.

She hadn’t come into his office except on business since his return. It was unusual. It would’ve seriously concerned him but she had agreed to give him the time he needed. He figured this was her way of doing that.

His plans came together fast. Today was the day.

"Julian, you've outdone yourself. I’m impressed with how accurately you duplicated these replicas,” he said, when the set designer brought the requested props. “From a distance no one would know they're painted and not true tapestries. Really well done, thank you."

The normally cantankerous designer beamed. His crush on Ian was common knowledge. "Thank you for the opportunity. Are you sure there isn't anything else you need me to do?"

Ian didn’t notice the adoration in Julian’s eyes. "There is one more favor you could do for me. If you'll direct Symington's Transport to my office when they arrive, I'd appreciate it. They're delivering these someplace else this afternoon."

Julian agreed and lurched forward as Ian gave him a hard pat on the back. Alex nearly ran into the little man in the doorway as he worked to recover. A collision would’ve driven him back into Ian’s chest. Julian mumbled a quiet curse in Alex’s direction and made his way down the corridor with mincing steps.

"I'm glad you're here.” Ian closed the door and laid the canvases out flat on the floor. “What do you think?"

"They're brilliant." Alex eyed the hangings and took a step back. "The old poof must be quite smitten with you," Alex sighed dramatically, patted his heart and plopped into a nearby chair. "So, I take it you've lined up a place to substitute for Ashenwyck?"

"I have." Ian rolled the canvases up and set them to the side. “Coffee?"

Alex nodded.

“You know Phillip Weymouth, don't you?” Ian went on as he poured two mugs of coffee. “His family still has an estate on the outskirts of Kenilworth. He's giving me the use of it over the weekend."

"You mean Weymouth Hall? I thought they gave the castle to the National Trust for tours."

"They did, but one wing is privately maintained by the family. It doesn’t matter though, Phillip pulled some strings and the castle will be closed to the public for the weekend." Ian sat, confident in the soundness of his scheme.

"Let me see if I have this straight. You're going to hang copies of your old tapestries, move some other props in and recreate part of Ashenwyck’s great hall?" Alex rested his forearms on his thighs and leaned forward, cradling his cup. "Then what? You bring Miranda in and hope the sight will trigger some distant memory?"

Ian didn’t respond and braced. Alex’s tone of voice carried an undesired negative taint.

"I see. Is this where you tell her she's your long lost Elinor? Please, don't answer yet. I assume you'll follow with an explanation of how much you and Elinor loved each other. Give Miranda the history of this past passion?"

Alex had twisted the intent and made it sound like something Miranda would hate.

"Is there some point you're trying to make here?

Alex gave his friend a long, hard look. "Ian, have you thought this through? Thoroughly? Because, I don’t think you have. This scenario you’re planning is not sharing the romance of the past with her. You're dragging her back to it. They’re two different things and you don’t see it. She’s not Elinor, not the Elinor you knew."

"You're wrong. Just like Basil and I are the same, she and Elinor are the same."

Alex shook his head.

Ian slammed his palm down on the desk. "You shake your head no, but it's the truth. Our love has survived time. She needs to know. Look around you," He made a sweeping gesture with one arm. "In this day and age, it's considered remarkable for love to survive the honeymoon. There isn't a woman alive who wouldn't appreciate how incredibly romantic it is that Elinor and I shared a love so strong."

Alex quietly listened. "When you first told me about this scheme, I didn't say too much. I figured Ian's a clever fellow, lots of experience with women, he’ll come to his senses." He set the coffee down. "Had I known you'd lost your wits, I'd have done more to discourage this lunacy."

Taken off guard by his friend’s harsh judgment, Ian replied, "Why is this so hard for you to understand? I promised Elinor I’d always be there for her. I broke my promise which caused us both untold heartache. After her accident, I made another promise. This is the fulfillment of it. I let her down once. I won't do it again."

Neither man said anything and an uneasy minute passed.

"Ian, as your friend, I am telling you, don't do this. It's a disaster waiting to happen."

"You're wrong. She will remember. Except now, she’ll remember the good, maybe not everything, but enough, and that's fine." Ian wasn't about to let Alex sway him. “Miranda deserves to know. It's her story, too.”

"I swear you're the most obstinate fool I've ever met. If you follow this course, you will likely lose her. She's not the same. We're not the same. You wanted my point, that's the point. We haven't been the same since that day at Poitiers. Open your eyes, Ian. We've all changed, and I, for one, am glad. Can't you love what you have?"

Ian didn't want this argument with Alex. Not now, not when he was so close to setting his plan in motion. He couldn't recall a time they'd argued so bitterly. If he were a superstitious man, he might consider this a bad omen.

"It's you who doesn't know. You've never been in love. You don't know what it is to love someone and lose them. I gave Elinor up. I had no other choice."

Angry with Alex’s logic, Ian stood and moved to the window. He shoved his fists into his pockets, trying to keep his temper in check. He stared out at the grey-green dome of St. Paul’s Cathedral on the distant skyline. After the 1666 London fire, he and Guy had come to see the rebuilt cathedral. Guy. How could Miranda recall him alone? Under his breath Ian said, "She remembers a connection to you."

"You're right,” Alex said, “I've never been in love."

Ian's attention snapped back.

"But ignorant soul that I am, I always thought you loved someone for who they are, not who they were."

Jealous suspicions Ian had buried surfaced. “I guess that philosophy goes well with your personal agenda regarding Miranda.”

Alex rose. “Meaning?”

Ian stepped around his desk to confront his friend.

“I’m not blind. I see how you are around Miranda. Oh, you try to hide behind humor and play comic relief to my serious suitor. You think I don’t notice how you look at her or your gaze that lingers a bit too long.”

“You accuse me of betraying you?” A expression of stunned disbelief came over Alex. He looked more pained than on the day he found himself earthbound along with Ian. “For the record, you’re the last person I’d do that to. What would make you think so little of me, of our friendship?”

Ugly sound bites, Ian had said in anger. The words were out and couldn’t be taken back. Remorse filled Ian but not absolute certainty he was wrong.

Alex walked towards the door. Stopping midway, he turned and shot Ian a nasty half-smile. "If I’m to be condemned, then let me give you reason. When this is over, I want Miranda."

Ian stiffened. "You’ve got some balls. Where do you come off asking that?"

"I want her. Although until now, I haven’t done anything about it. I may not know what it's like to be in love. I do know I care about
Miranda
.” Alex stressed each syllable in
Mir-an-da.
“Do you?"

He walked out.

Ian's grip tightened around the coffee cup. “Damn you Alex. Damn you for not understanding. And damn me, for forgetting what sort of man you are, what sort of friend.”

Ian considered Alex’s warning. In the years since their return, opportunities and good fortune came along nonstop. For Alex these last years were a romp, but in that entire time, Ian never stopped searching for Elinor. Now he found her in Miranda. No force on earth would to ruin it for him.

Miranda knocked softly and opened the door just wide enough to peek inside.

"Is everything all right? Alex stormed by my office. Did you quarrel?"

"It's nothing to worry about,” Ian said and hoped at the end of the day that would be true. “We have some philosophical differences on how to handle a situation." He took a moment to study her, head to toe, no lusty intent, just a simple look. She was so winsome standing there. Intelligent, quick to laugh, charming...when she chose to be, and naturally sexy, Elinor couldn’t have come better packaged. He should be more grateful. In that respect, he'd give Alex his due.

Ian took Miranda by the arm. "You brought your overnight case?" She nodded as they entered her office. "Good. Grab your bag. We're leaving for the castle."

"Now? I thought we weren't expected until later this afternoon. I haven't put my paperwork away or anything." Miranda began closing books and clearing her desk.

"Leave that stuff." Ian picked up her case and purse. "We’re going now," he said and held the handbag out.

She slipped the purse strap over her shoulder. When she reached for a book on Norman castles, Ian intercepted her. He wrapped his hand around hers and tried to lead her away.

"Ian, stop.” Miranda tugged against him. “I need the book. You said you wanted pictures to compare and see if Weymouth Hall was feasible for future location shoots."

"Pictures aren’t necessary. Weymouth has everything I require."

Miranda resisted his pull, refusing to budge.