Time Travel Romances Boxed Set (29 page)

Baird stared at the woman for a long moment,
not sure what to make of the knowing smile that danced over her
lips.

“
She’s not Gemdelovely
Gemdelee,” he said finally. “Aurelia is just a confused woman who
needs some help.” He shook his arm pointedly and to no
avail.

Ursilla shook her head. “The only thing of
which Gemdelovely has need, is the kiss of her true love, a man
loyal in deed.”

“
What she needs is to find
out the truth about her father,” Baird said tightly. “And to shake
herself free of a lot of old nonsense.”

With that, Baird freed himself from
Ursilla’s grip and strode to the door, hating his sense that the
older woman had been ready to let him go anyway. He dropped some
money into the hands of the woman who ran the tea shop, ignoring
the wonder in her eyes, and dashed out into the square.

And there, Baird’s fears were proven
absolutely right.

There was no sign of Aurelia anywhere.

Baird shoved his hands in his pockets and
glared at a kid openly surveying him, the only person on the
street. “Have you seen a blonde woman? She just came out of
here.”

The boy shook his head and smiled. “Just
you, mister.”

Baird turned away in disgust. He checked the
trio of streets that made up the intersection of the town, but
didn’t see another living soul, let alone Aurelia.

It was as though she had vanished into thin
air.

The sign over the Boar and Thistle creaked
in the wind when Baird stalked back into the square. Garth’s cab
was still beside the curb, but maybe Aurelia had gone looking for a
ride back to Dunhelm. Baird shoved a hand through his hair in
frustration. It couldn’t hurt to find out.

There was nowhere else to look, after
all.

*

Aurelia ran.

She was out of the town in no time at all,
heading for the coast at dizzying speed. All she could think was
that she had to get away, away from Ursilla, away from silly
stories, away from a tale that sounded far too familiar for
comfort.

Gemdelovely Gemdelee, indeed!

Aurelia scrambled over loose stones,
avoiding the black road, climbing over rocks to the shore instead.
The coast was familiar, unlike all that was behind her. She did not
want to look at Julian’s magic, she did not want to fight to
explain great mysteries right now. Aurelia tried to make her
breathing come more evenly as she kept her eyes on the sea.

The Vikings would come.

Her father was not dead of grief.

She would not permit Ursilla’s poem to be
true.

*

The Boar and Thistle was busy with afternoon
traffic, although some of its clients looked as though they had
settled in for days, if not months, before. Some appeared to be as
firmly rooted in this place as the furniture.

Although Baird had only come in here once or
twice, he was hailed by the regulars as he stood on the threshold,
blinking in the dim light. He heard a murmur of conversation slide
around the pub, those in the know obviously identifying him to the
others.

Baird was very aware that he was the center
of attention.

“
Left the lady shopping,
guv?” Garth demanded, continuing on before Baird could respond. “No
place for a man while a woman spends his money,” the cabbie
declared with a wink and a snort of assent sounded around the
bar.

Aurelia was not here.

And she certainly hadn’t asked Baird to
leave with her. That old sense of being unwanted assailed him and
fought with his concern for her welfare. Maybe he should take this
opportunity to see whether he could learn anything about Hekod.

“
What can I get you,
sir?”

A quick survey revealed that everyone drank
very dark brew.

“
A pint of your best
stout.”

The barkeeper raised his eyebrows
appreciatively, and the men grinned. Baird had been identified as a
compatriot.

“
Why don’t you sit with us,
guv, and tell the boys a bit about your work at ol’
Dunhelm?”

It was the best opening Baird was likely to
get. He slid onto a stool and took a good look around. The place
looked positively medieval with its heavy oak beams stained dark
and the walls whitewashed in between the trusses. The ceiling was
low and made of dark wood. A variety of antique etchings in cheap
frames hung on the wall. They had probably been of virtually no
value when they were hung - whenever that had been.

The pub smelled of cigar smoke, with a base
of spilled beer, and a top note of bacon and sausages. There was no
clock and the leaded windows emitted so little light that it was
impossible to say from inside what time of day it might be.

Baird’s beer arrived, frothing over the side
and onto the wooden bar. He ignored the foam and lifted the glass
tankard to his companions. When he didn’t wince at the flavor of
the warm, yeasty beer, their amiability increased markedly.

Baird restrained himself from running a
tongue over the film the stout left on his teeth. “I don’t suppose
any of you would know anyone named Hekod?”

“
Oh, guv!” Garth inhaled
sharply. “No one uses that name hereabouts!”

“
Why not?”

“
It’s a name of wicked bad
luck.”

“
Powerfully unlucky,”
contributed another.

“
There’s not been a Hekod
here since the first one, they say.”

Baird took another sip of his beer and
decided it was getting better. “What’s unlucky about it?”

“
Have you not heard the
tale of Hekod?” Garth demanded. Baird nodded and the cabby frowned,
gesturing with his tankard. “Now, there’s a man cursed with foul
luck. Everything in the world he had to his name, a beautiful wife,
prosperity and two lovely bairns.” Garth snapped his fingers
beneath Baird’s nose. “And every bit of it snatched away from him
in his prime.”

“
Bairns?”

“
Babes! A boy and girl, it
is said.”

Garth drained his tankard in one great gulp
and set the empty glass on the bar. He glanced pointedly at Baird,
then back to the tankard with its residue of foam.

“
Another pint for Garth,”
Baird said to the barkeeper who shook his head and grinned. He
scooped up the glass and pulled another pint, setting it before the
cabbie with a flourish.

“
Ah!” Garth took a long
draught and smacked his lips. “I thank you, guv.”

“
Now, what about this bad
luck?”

“
Ah, well, our Hekod lost
first his lovely wife, then his son was killed and his daughter
cursed. Add to that the destruction of his estate.” Garth shook his
head. “He must have died an unhappy man.”

“
It is said he died of
grief,” added one of the others.

“
And rightly so. What man
could bear to lose so much?” Garth set his tankard on the bar and
fixed Baird with a steady glance. “You’re seeing why it would be a
horrible burden for any bairn to be granted such a name, aren’t
you, guv?”

“
You’re sure there hasn’t
been even one?”

“
We’ve no parents cruel
enough to curse their own spawn.”

The men nodded sagely at this local wisdom
and Baird noticed that the boy who had delivered the pizzas to
Dunhelm hovered on the fringe of the group. His eyes were bright
and his Adam’s apple bobbed with excitement.

No doubt at the prospect of more tales to
share with his buddies.

“
Why would you be asking,
Mr. Beauforte?” he asked.

Baird shrugged as though it didn’t really
matter. “We were trying to think of a name for the restaurant that
we’re putting at the top of the bishop’s tower. One of the
marketing people suggested we tie into Dunhelm’s history somehow
and wanted to use Hekod’s Roost, or something similar.”

Baird took another sip, amazed at how
readily they accepted his lie. “I just wanted to make sure there
wasn’t an actual Hekod who might take offense.”

Garth gripped his arm with surprising
strength, his gaze intense. “You be taking my advice, guv, and
don’t be using that name on anything at Dunhelm. It will bring only
tragedy and unhappiness wherever it is used and you’ll not be
wanting any of that at the Beauforte Dunhelm Resort.”

A curious silence descended over the group
and all drank uneasily.

“
Well! I’m glad I asked.”
Baird forced a smile as he leaned on the counter again. “Do any of
you have any suggestions? These marketing people, you know -” he
rolled his eyes “- they can drive a man crazy with all their
dithering around. I’d love to just walk back in there with the
perfect name.”

The boy’s eyes lit up. “What about The
Crow’s Nest?”

“
Nah,” said one of the
others. “It should have “Viking” in it. Viking’s Lair.”

“
And what would a lair be
to you and me?” Garth demanded with amiable crankiness. “It’s got
to be understood by everyone who happens along - you’re wanting a
name like The Lookout.”

“
Oh! That’s clever!” A
chorus of disagreement erupted as the men latched on to the
problem.

Baird might even get a name for the
restaurant out of this. Even if he hadn’t come any closer to
finding Hekod. He worried about Aurelia again. Probably she had
walked back to Dunhelm. He’d walk back himself after this beer and
make sure nothing had happened to her on the way.

As for Hekod, well, that was another
problem. If Aurelia’s father was alive - and Baird was thinking the
chances of that were pretty remote - he must have gone to the main
island. Maybe the older man had passed away there. Either way, the
next logical step was to go to Kirkwall on the main island but it
was too late to fly there today.

First thing in the morning, then, Baird
resolved and drank more of his stout.

The brew was growing on him, actually.

*

Aurelia watched the sun sink, its orange
rays painting the sea with fire. The wind tousled her hair, the
chill of the night rose from the ground.

On this night, she would summon the Dreaming
again.

What if she had surrendered her chastity to
Bard and had not won back the control of her Dreaming? There was a
kernel of cold fear launched where her heart should have been, but
Aurelia refused to think any further about Ursilla’s story.

Aurelia knew the very moment that Bard came
to stand behind her. Her heart began to pound, her skin whispered
of his presence, but she did not turn around. For a long time, he
did not speak and they stood silently together, watching the
sunlight fade.

When the sun finally dipped below the
horizon and the sky turned indigo, Aurelia tipped back her head to
watch the first stars come out. She took a deep breath, not certain
what Bard was thinking and less certain that she wanted to
know.

“
You don’t have to stay out
here all night,” he said quietly.

Aurelia turned to find Bard’s eyes dark with
concern. “You have been drinking. I can smell the ale upon
you.”

“
Well, maybe just one beer.
All for the good cause of finding your father.” Bard heaved a
dramatic sigh and Aurelia had the sense he was teasing her.
“Someone has to do the dirty work.”

“
Drinking ale?” Aurelia
frowned. “This is not labor at all!”

Bard grinned so unexpectedly that Aurelia
caught her breath. His stern visage was transformed when he
permitted himself to smile.

“
You should smile more
often,” she said, without having any intention of doing so. “It
makes you look younger.”

Bard’s smile faded abruptly. “I’m not that
old, you know!”

“
But you have seen much, I
am certain.”

And done much, Aurelia knew. Her body seemed
to remember some of those deeds quite well. Aurelia’s heart pounded
as she held his gaze and the air between them heated with rare
vigor.

Had there ever been a man whose very glance
could make her feel so alive?

“
Mmm.” Bard shoved his
hands into his pockets and watched her closely. “For an uneducated
colonial, I’ve not done too badly.” A twinkle lurked in the green
depths of his eyes and Aurelia wondered what on earth he meant by
that.

What truly filled the secret corners of this
man’s heart? For a man bent on wedding her, Bard did not seem
particularly driven to achieve his goal. It was true that things
had moved quickly between them, but at their own speed, not at his
insistence.

Or was his manipulation so very skilled that
Aurelia could not even discern it?

“
You should know that I am
not this Gemdelovely Gemdelee,” Aurelia said intending to words to
be defiant. Instead her voice broke. “I am
not
a
story.”

“
I know.” Bard sobered
instantly.

He stepped closer and Aurelia had to tip her
head back to hold his gaze. She was encouraged by the sympathy she
found in his eyes and liked that he did not believe this tale any
more than she did.

It made Aurelia feel less alone in all of
this. Bard lifted a hand towards her cheek, hesitating before his
palm cradled her jaw.

“
You’re a woman who has
lost someone precious,” he said and his voice was low. “I can
understand how hard that must be.”

Aurelia’s eyes misted with tears and she was
confused that the man who had destroyed her family was the one who
offered her compassion. Why did he have to be the one to witness
her weakness?

Why did he have to be the one to make her
skin come alive with a single touch?