Grasso, Patricia (26 page)

"Seeing beyond the horizon into the Other World requires our mortal sight be obscured."

Henry grinned. "At times, sister, you say the strangest things." Lifting the charred cork out of her hand, Henry smudged her face with black and even dotted the tip of her nose.

Grabbing the yew sprigs, brother and sister headed for the door. Henry opened it a crack and peered outside. No one was about. Gesturing to her, Henry led the way down the shadowed corridor to the top of the stairs.

From below drifted the muffled voices of several retainers who were loitering in the foyer. Henry and Keely wanted no one to see their disguises before the celebration began.

"Should we wait until they leave?" Henry whispered.

"Let's make a run for the door," Keely answered. "If we're fast enough, they won't recognize us."

Henry nodded. "One, two, three—
go!"

Keely and Henry raced down the stairs and darted past the startled retainers in the foyer. Without breaking stride, Henry yanked the door open, and they flew into the courtyard.

Henry kept running down the path that led to the gardens, but Keely paused. With a soft smile touching her lips, she inhaled deeply of dying October's crisp twilight air and felt anticipation surging through her body.

The night had been created for magic. A rising tide of potent energy charged the hushed air with expectancy, while the muted darkening colors of dusk slashed across the sky's oceanic horizon from east to west. No moon would shine from the sky that night, and an eerie splendor permeated the atmosphere.

"Soon, Megan," Keely whispered, "we will be together again."

Keely could hardly wait for the secular celebration to end. When the English skeptics sought their beds, she would commune with her mother.

Keely followed her brother down the path to the section of the gardens near the Thames River. Odo and Hew awaited her there. With her cousins stood May and June, who gaped in surprise at their future Countess of Basildon disguised as a stableboy.

"Please light the Samhuinn fire," Keely bade her cousins.

"I'll do it," Odo said.

" 'Tis unfair," Hew protested. "You lit last year's."

"And I'll do it again," Odo insisted, cuffing the side of his brother's head.

"Leave him alone," May defended Hew.

"Do you dare to order Odo?" June cried in outrage.

"Keep out of this," May snapped, reaching to pinch her sister.

The Lloyd brothers hastily stepped between the bickering twins. Odo rolled his eyes heavenward, and Hew answered him with a shrug.

"Together then?" Odo asked.

Hew grinned and nodded.

Too late.

While the two couples were arguing about who would light the Samhuinn fire, Keely and Henry had completed the task. They stepped back a few paces to stare at the crackling blaze. Soon, bright flames in the twilight drew the Talbot and Devereux retainers.

Carrying sprigs of yew, Keely and Henry went their separate ways and circulated through the gathering crowd. Both offered their yew sprigs to one and all.

Keely scanned the growing crowd for the earl, but he hadn't made an appearance yet. She did spy the duke and the countess and hurried in their direction.

"Sprig of yew?" Keely offered, sidling up to him.

Duke Robert accepted the yew and said, "Be certain you wash your face tonight, Henry."

" 'Tis Keely," she corrected him, then giggled.

Duke Robert and Lady Dawn stared in surprise at her.

"Henry and I switched identities for the celebration," Keely explained, insinuating herself between them. "Chaos does reign supreme, and the person with whom you speak during the next three days of no-time may not even be mortal."

"Oh, Tally, I have the shivery creeps," Lady Dawn cried. "Is it safe to be outside?"

"Don't worry, lovey. I'll protect you," Duke Robert promised.

"Is everything ready inside?" Keely asked.

" 'Tis as you wished, child," Duke Robert answered. "The fire blazes in the hearth, the apples bob in tubs of water, and the chestnuts await their roasting."

"Even Morgana is cooperating," the countess added. "She's retired to her chamber for the evening."

"What about the special feast?"

"My best wine and fare sit at the place of honor at the high table," the duke answered.

" 'Tis a terrible waste of good food," Lady Dawn remarked.

"Custom requires we offer a meal of honor to those who have gone before us," Keely told her. She gazed at her father's profile and added in a soft voice, "When skeptics sleep, our departed loved ones will return to impart their infinite wisdom and special knowledge."

An eerie dreamy quality in her voice made Duke Robert snap his head around. "What do you mean, child?" he asked.

Keely cast him an ambiguous smile but said nothing....

Drawn by the flames in the night and the sounds of laughter emanating from the duke's garden, Richard walked down the path that led to the Talbot estate.

Emerging from between the rows of shrubbery, he smiled when he saw the revelers and sauntered across the manicured lawn toward them. His sharp gaze scanned the crowd for his betrothed.

And then Richard saw her. Weaving her way through the throng, Keely appeared a fey creature of the mysterious night. Her black cloak swirled around her legs, and its hood shrouded her head.

Surprisingly, no welcoming smile graced the lips of her blackened face as she walked toward and then past him. Richard snaked his hand out and grabbed her upper arm. He whirled her around and yanked her up against his unyielding masculine frame.

"Dearest, I want my Halloween treat," he demanded in a husky voice as his mouth began to move to capture hers.

"Yuch!" The voice belonged to Henry Talbot. "Basildon, you're disgusting!"

Shocked, Richard leaped back as if scorched by fire, and his face reddened with angry embarrassment. What trick was this? His future brother-in-law disguised as his betrothed?

The earl growled, "Where the bloody—?"

"Sprig of yew, m'lord?" asked a laughter-filled voice.

Richard whirled around to see a dirty-faced stableboy. He dropped his gaze to the hand holding the sprig of yew. Gleaming in the light cast by the fire, his betrothal ring winked at him from the urchin's finger.

Pretending he didn't recognize her, Richard smiled lazily and said, "I'll take the sprig, boy." He reached for the yew, but his hand closed around her wrist like a slave's manacle and yanked her against him. With his free hand, Richard pulled the cap off her head and tossed it over his shoulder, then watched as her ebony mane cascaded to her waist.

"About that kiss, dearest?" Richard whispered huskily.

Keely blushed beneath the grime on her face. "With all these people watching us?"

"Come with me." Taking her by the hand, Richard led Keely to a secluded section of the garden where several oak trees offered them privacy. Here, the heavy mist off the Thames crept over the land and swirled around their legs.

Keely leaned against the comforting solidness of one of the oaks and then regretted it. With his hands resting against the trunk on either side of her head, the earl trapped her there.

"Do you like our Samhuinn celebration?" Keely asked, trying to mask her nervousness.

"Samhuinn?" Richard echoed, cocking a copper brow at her. "I thought 'twas Halloween."

Mesmerized by the earl's handsome face coming closer and closer, Keely was unable to reply. She snapped her eyes shut at the last possible moment. His warm insistent lips covered hers, sending a hot shiver down her spine.

Richard flicked his tongue across her lips, which parted willingly for him. He gently ravished her mouth with his tongue, exploring and tasting of its incredible sweetness.

Keely moaned throatily and surrendered to the unfamiliar feelings he was creating in her. Unaware of what she was doing, she entwined her arms around his neck and pressed herself intimately against his masculine frame.

Richard broke the kiss and smiled with tenderness at her dazed expression. Christ, she was as sensual as she was sweet. What joy awaited him in his marriage bed when he initiated her into the ways of carnal flesh!

Keely's violet gaze focused slowly on his smile. "Now you have a dirty face too," she told him.

"Dearest, I'd endure a thousand smudgings for one of your sweet kisses," Richard vowed. "I hope 'tis my kiss that put the sparkle in your eyes."

" 'Tis Samhuinn," Keely replied, inadvertently insulting him. "I love when the autumn frosts turn the grass to gray, and the four winds scatter the fallen oak leaves."

Richard's emerald gaze lit with amusement. "You love the harbingers of winter?"

" 'Tis natural," Keely said. "How could we revel in the birth of spring without the memory of winter?"

"Am I betrothed to a poet?" he teased.

"No, I'm pagan," she answered in all seriousness. "I can commune with those who have gone before and those yet to come as long as the Samhuinn fire burns."

Richard suppressed the powerful urge to laugh. His betrothed was adorably, delightfully absurd. "How will you keep it ablaze for three days, sweetheart?"

"Odo and Hew promised to tend it during the night," Keely replied. "If the fire dies, the enchantment ends, and the veil between the two worlds closes for another year."

"What if it rains?" Richard asked.

"The Great Mother Goddess never sends rain during Samhuinn."

Her certainty brought a smile to his lips. "You truly believe that?"

"Don't you believe in life after death?" she countered.

"Are there others like you?" Richard asked, ignoring her question. "Druids, I mean."

Keely shrugged her shoulders. "I don't actually know."

"Would you tell me if you knew?"

"No."

That didn't sit well with Richard. "Why not?"

"I can never completely trust any man," she told him honestly. "Do you still wish to marry me?"

"Eventually, you will give me your trust," Richard promised, drawing her into the circle of his embrace. He would have kissed her again, but a voice sounded behind them.

"Keely, is that you?" Henry called. "We're going inside to roast the chestnuts."

"Coming," Keely answered. She looked at the earl and invited, "Will you join us?"

Richard shook his head. "Later, perhaps. I've left an unfinished report on my desk."

"Why do you always work so hard?"

"I enjoy working."

"More than roasted chestnuts?" Keely asked, feigning surprise.

Richard grinned. "Save me one, dearest. Give me an hour to finish the queen's report."

Two hours after midnight, the blackest moments of a moonless night, Keely sat on the edge of her bed and listened to the silence inside the Talbot household. Outwardly, she appeared serene; inwardly, her nerves rioted in a wild heart-pounding anticipation of what was about to happen. The thin veil between the Here and Now and the Beyond would part for her mother and her.

Bred to accept the continuity of life, Keely harbored no fears about the dead. In her philosophy the act of death was akin to the act of birth. The communion between the two worlds filled her with unparalleled excitement, and her life's blood sang with the Song of her Ancestors.

Deciding the hour had arrived to escape from the house, Keely stood and donned her black cloak over the breeches and shirt she still wore. She grabbed the small pouch containing her magic stones and golden sickle, then padded on bare feet across the chamber. She pressed her ear against the door and listened, then opened it and stepped into the dark corridor.

Keeping the palm of her right hand against the wall, Keely glided slowly down the corridor to the head of the stairs. When she reached the foyer, Keely paused and lifted her head to listen for any sign of danger. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary.

Noiselessly, Keely opened the door and stepped into the courtyard. She breathed deeply of the hushed night air.

Suddenly, strong hands grabbed her from behind. She tried to scream, but a massive hand covered her mouth.

"Don't struggle, little girl." The voice belonged to Odo. He released her as soon as she relaxed with relief.

"We didn't want you screaming the house awake," Hew said by way of an explanation.

Keely rounded on them and demanded in a whisper, "Holy stones! What are you doing here at this hour?"

"Waiting for you," Odo answered.

"We mean to guard you while you worship," Hew added.

Keely was uncertain if her mother's spirit would appear in the presence of others, and she refused to chance losing the opportunity to commune with her. "Protecting me is unnecessary," she insisted.

"We'll be the judge of that," Odo replied.

"He's right
for once,"
Hew added.

Odo cuffed the side of his brother's head. "The choice is yours, little girl," he said, just as determined as she. "Either we stand guard, or you return to your chamber."

Keely took a deep defeated breath. "Very well, but do not interfere. No matter what transpires."

With Keely in the lead, the three of them walked down the path that led through the duke's garden to the earl's. Keely halted when they stepped onto the Devereux property.

"Wait over there near the house," she ordered. "Do not interfere. Do you understand?"

Odo and Hew bobbed their heads in unison like two overgrown children.

Keely watched them retreat to a position close to Devereux House. Then she pulled the hood of her cloak up to cover her head and walked the short distance to where the birch, the yew, and the oak stood together.

"Hello, my friends," she whispered to the three holiest of trees. "Are you enjoying Samhuinn?"

Opening her pouch, Keely withdrew ten stones. She chose nine black obsidians for positive power and one white agate for spiritual guidance.

Keely used eight of the black obsidians to make a large circle, leaving only the western periphery open. She entered the circle from the west and closed it behind her with the ninth obsidian, saying, "All disturbing thoughts remain outside."

After pulling her golden sickle from her pouch, Keely fused the circle's invisible periphery shut and walked to the center, the soul of the circle. She turned in a clockwise circle three times until she faced the northwest, the sacred direction of the ancestors. Then she set the white agate down beside her.