Give Me (5 page)

Again she descended the stone staircase as a song wafted in from a lower hall. There was no Elyse, but again she tripped and fell into the arms of the prince. He looked into her soul. She felt she’d known him beyond mere lifetimes, through eternity.

“Diantha,” he said.

Diantha
. The name was familiar, easy. It must be her real name.

The prince lowered his gaze to her lips, and her body responded with swelling urgency.

“Galen.” That was his name. He was Galen, and he was her love. Her life. She had waited for him for so long, she couldn’t stand it. He kissed her, and she gasped with desire. He slipped her nightgown off her shoulders and she ran her fingers through his hair.
Diantha
. Yes, that was right.
Galen
.

The scream of a steam whistle and the metal-on-metal squeal of train brakes jolted Lilith out of the scene, back to the real world. Marion was rummaging through her bag. “We’ve arrived, dear. I have something for you.”

Lilith yawned and closed her eyes. She was on fire. Her hot arousal from the dream had to be obvious.

Marion handed her a soft pink knitted hat and matching gloves. “A gift from the Tragic Fall. You’ll freeze without them.”

3
Tintagos Halt

B
y the time the train groaned to a stop, the laptop ladies were at the door with their luggage. While Lilith retrieved her trunk from the storage bin, Marion jammed her knitting needles into a ball of yarn and stuffed them into her bag. She brightened when she spotted a man waiting on the platform.

“Ian!” The bag bang, bang, banged against the seats as she moved up the aisle past Lilith with a sing-song “Halloo!” Ian couldn’t possibly hear. She bounded down to the platform like Sharon going after Jimmy. Although she didn’t leap onto him and wrap her legs around his waist, their kiss was equally enthusiastic.

Lilith stopped at the top step of the train car as Ian locked Marion in a bear hug and rocked her back and forth. “My precious girl. It’s good to have you home.”

“Silly man. I was gone but a day.” She kissed him. “Sharon was on the train.”

“And how is my darling daughter?”

Everyone in the world was in love.

Everyone else.

Ian caught Lilith’s eye and saluted her, fist to forehead, as if tugging an imaginary cap. He stopped a man dressed as a footman in full livery and pointed to Lilith. The man appropriated her trunk and wheeled the thing away after Marion and Ian.

A blast of wind raised chill bumps on Lilith’s bare arms, and she was glad for the hat and gloves. The moist breeze carried a hint of the ocean and felt soothing on her face.

“Lily, you’ve come at last,” said a voice. A woman.

Lilith gripped the handrail and looked up and down the platform, though it was futile. The voice was in her head, from her dreams. Elyse on the stone landing in the castle. The train platform was empty but for the swirling natural mist that mixed with the train’s hot steam.

“Give me your hand.”

A different voice. Deep, self-confident, male—real. It sent an eager flutter over Lilith’s solar plexus. A man emerged from the mist and steam, his gloved hand outstretched toward her. He was tall and red and big-boned. His ruddy complexion looked like it had rebelled once but had given up the fight. He had shaggy chestnut hair and green eyes that hinted of dangerous pleasure.

“Lilith Evergreen, I presume?” A West Country accent tinged with humor.

Say it again. Say my name again.

His rough face was not at all handsome. His voice was jagged like a demon lover’s—low and crushed velvety, promising things no good woman should wish for. Lilith found herself thinking of sex—and not in the privacy of a dream, but here, now, in broad daylight.

The man’s duster reached mid-calf, and his long scarf was the color of dark moss. He tipped his moss-green hat, a Mad Hatter’s bell crown topper, and bowed with a flourish. “Bausiney. Cade Bausiney.” He sounded like James Bond. “Tour guide extraordinaire. Ian has commandeered my rig to haul the lot of you down to the Tragic Fall.”

Dynamic, substantial, assured. He was no apparition.

“Generous of you to comply.”

“I thought so.” His dark-gloved hand dwarfed Lilith’s in the pink one. Beside him, she felt downright delicate.

A hot current of desire danced over her as he handed her down to the platform. She glanced at him sideways, sure he’d felt it too. She pulled her hand away—or maybe he dropped it. The urge to grab this man,
this stranger
, was almost overwhelming. It was as if she’d become a different person. She wanted to kiss him right here, right now, tear his clothes off and pull him inside.

She studied her surroundings, desperate to think of anything else.

Tintagos Halt consisted of an old stone building anchored to a wide wood platform. A rusting iron bench at one end looked unused for a generation. Garish posters covered ancient walls. You Might Be Next! Visit Famous Tintagos Castle! Who Will Be Chosen? A Once in a Lifetime Event!

Bausiney’s hand brushed over her bare upper arm. He quoted,
“Dumnos is a land of mist and rain,”
and wrinkled his nose. “We put so much effort into the literature, and no one reads it.” He had one of those ironic grins where the corners of his mouth curved down but his eyes twinkled. He draped his scarf around her shoulders, and she caught her breath at his slight squeeze. “That’s better now.”

The steam whistle blasted, as startling as a physical assault. She and Bausiney jammed their hands over their ears until it stopped. Fortunately, the shock of the blast drove away Lilith’s sex-fiendishness.

“It’s this way,” Bausiney said.

At the end of the platform the footman loaded luggage into a waiting horse-drawn carriage. His ornate uniform made more sense now, all part of the show. The vehicle was as white as Cinderella’s coach with polished brass fixtures and a gold coronet with pearls and strawberry leaves painted on the door. The top was down with Marion and Ian and the laptop ladies inside, all with wool throws spread over their laps.

“This is Bella and Cammy.” Marion handed warm throws to Lilith and Bausiney. “Sisters from Maidstone. They’re stopping at the Tragic Fall for the Handover.”

“Now there is truly no room at the inn,” Ian observed.

Lilith sat on the same side as Bella, the older of the two. If they’d been named in honor of Mr. Trollope’s French sisters—a mean trick by a parent—they’d rebelled against the author’s description. The younger Cammy appeared shy and sweet. Bella regarded Lilith with a distinctly sour expression and furrowed eyebrows—which morphed to everything delightful when Bausiney inserted himself in between the two.

He pushed his hat back and stretched his arms behind them over the seat with a grin. He looked less the Mad Hatter and more a glam rocker from the ‘80s, sans mascara.

“Walk on,” the driver said to the horses. As the carriage rolled forward, the footman climbed up to the driver’s perch. It felt like being in a story out of Jane Austen—for the first minute. In the next five they hit three ruts in the dirt road, throwing the passengers against each other. This trip was going to be picturesque but hardly comfortable.

The narrow road from Tintagos Halt to Tintagos Village wound down a small hill to the edge of the sea. Dusk had begun. A few lamps were on in the cottages and shops spread over the few streets, but there was plenty of natural light left in the day.

“It gets dark later here,” Lilith said absently. Bella and Cammy stared as if she’d said a green cow was dancing on the fencepost. Lilith decided they were the very image of Trollope’s French girls.

Bausiney said, “That’s because we’re at higher latitude than you’re used to.”

Just as Lilith gave him a big smile, the carriage hit another rut and threw her against his chest. The desire returned, hot and bittersweet, as if her body knew his body, remembered it, wanted to press closer, to feel his arms around her. His chest was so broad, his eyes so…actually, he looked ridiculously happy. Happy to find her practically in his lap.

“Why, Miss Evergreen.” The corners of his mouth twitched. “Hello there.”

She pulled away and closed her eyes, her heart racing. Her body was on fire. This made no sense. She wasn’t even attracted to the great ruddy hulk. Despite the electric sizzle in his touch. She wasn’t attracted to anybody. Not now. At present, she had no confidence where love was concerned, not in her judgment of men or in herself as a lover.

Gradually her senses brought the world into better focus. Seagulls screamed over the bay. Horses’ hooves clump-clumped on soft dirt. Marion chatted with Ian about Sharon. Lilith opened her eyes. No one had noticed her discomfort.

She could feel Bausiney watching her, but if she looked at him she’d lose it. Instead, she examined the village and the cliffs beyond.

Great gods, and sheesh!
Again her heart was in her throat. Just south of the village, clinging to the cliffs’ edge—it was the oak tree from her dreams. Its dramatically wide branches spread out over the sea on one side and over the land on the other. At its base, a woman in a long black cloak stood with one palm resting on the tree’s trunk.

It was Elyse. Watching her. Waiting for her.

You’ve come at last.
The same words, same voice she’d heard at Tintagos Halt.

“Who is that?” She turned to her fellow passengers.

“Who what?” Ian said.

“The woman by the tree.”

“Are you seeing ghosts, dear?” Marion said.

Lilith looked again, and there was no one there. Was she having waking dreams now? “Maybe I was seeing things.” She tried to make a joke of it. “I haven’t slept well lately.”

The ladies fell into travel-weary silence while Ian and Bausiney debated whether there was enough liquor stocked at the inn. Lilith leaned back and watched the tree, listening to the horses’ rhythmic clop-clop. After a while Bausiney said, “Miss Evergreen, I’m told you’re the one tourist who’s come for our lovely scenery alone and not the lure of Glimmer Cottage.”

“Excellent,” Bella said. “One less in the competition.”

“It’s not a competition, dear,” Marion said. “The wyrding woman will know the one and will choose her, simple as that.”

“My wager’s on Evergreen here,” Ian said.

“Shush, Ian.” Marion patted his knee. “We have no favorites at the Tragic Fall.”

Ian made a face. “Anyone who sees a ghost at Igdrasil is a winner in my book.” He said
Igdrasil
with tenderness—even love.

“Igdrasil?” Lilith said.

“The tree.” Bella shook her head with disdain. “The great world tree of Dumnos. It has a name.”

“Bella is a veritable encyclopedia of Dumnos,” Cammy said. “She’s been elbow-deep in research since the announcement.”

“What does it matter?” Bella said. “It’s all up, isn’t it? Game over. She’s the one.”

“Not possible,” Bausiney said drily. “She’s an American.”

Poor Bella. She didn’t see that the entire event was a pantomime. A tourist promotion. It was cruel someone didn’t enlighten her. Besides, even if by an impossible breach of plausibility the Handover were on the level, the celibacy involved wouldn’t do. Lilith was off men for now, but not forever.

Take Bausiney, for instance. He wasn’t the handsomest of men, but she could already see he was clever and funny and he oozed sexual…competence? The mad random bout of lust had passed, but a strange afterglow of attraction persisted. And she liked it.

Something inside her had changed, maybe with her first breath of Tintagos air. She was alive in a way she’d never felt, as if Dumnos’s
atmospheric conditions
had affected her too. No, she wouldn’t be off men forever.

The carriage crossed into the village square and slowed to a crawl to avoid hitting tourists in the streets. Lilith could well believe every room in the village was taken. They rolled to a stop at the Tragic Fall Inn, and the footman climbed down to unload the luggage.

“Take it all inside, Trenam,” Bausiney said.

“Yes, my lord.” The footman gave a cursory bow.

“Heavens.” Cammy pointed to a wooden placard above the inn’s doorway. It boasted a grotesque painting of two horses’ heads, one white with a black blaze on its forehead and one black with a white blaze. Their nostrils flared and their teeth were bared in unnatural grimaces, their eyes wide with terror.

“Those are the horses that fell,” Bausiney deadpanned. “Tragically.”

He kissed the back of Cammy’s hand and laid on the charm. “I wish you a pleasant stay in Tintagos.” Cammy curtsied and giggled, and Bausiney moved on to Bella with the same routine. He repeated the exercise with Lilith—except that he wished her a
very
pleasant stay and lingered half a beat over her hand. She wondered what it would be like to feel those lips on other places.

The way he lifted the scarf from her shoulders felt intimate and familiar. Heat flowed through her again, like lava. Not like the wild weirdness in the carriage; this was old-fashioned, mundane desire.