Time Travel Romances Boxed Set (46 page)

Marissa laughed. “Why? The money’s good,
there’s probably a non-compete, but I don’t want to compete with
Beauforte Resorts anyhow. I’m going to try something different,
make a new start.”

She looked down and seemed to notice the
condition of Julian’s handkerchief for the first time. “Oh, I can’t
believe I did this. Look, Julian, I’ll get you another one. I’ve
seen them at that new shop, Abernathy’s.”

“
Yeah, I bought it
there.”

Marissa’s eyes shone. “Don’t they have the
most wonderful things? There’s this fuchsia cocktail dress that has
absolutely stolen my heart away” - she wrinkled her nose - “but it
might be a little too flashy.”

“
The one in the window?”
When Marissa nodded, Julian waved off her concerns. “You could
carry it easily with your coloring, as long as you had an
appropriate event to wear it to.”

“
Mmm.” Marissa jammed the
handkerchief and contract into her purse. “Well, I guess
shopkeepers don’t go to those kind of parties very often,” she
commented with a smile devoid of malice. “I’ll keep it in mind,
though. See you around, Julian.”

Marissa got to her feet and made for the
door, but Julian wasn’t quite ready to see the last of her.

“
Tell you what, Mort.”
Marissa glanced back in surprise and Julian shoved his hands
nervously into his pockets. “You buy that dress and we’ll go to
Sebastien’s farewell dinner together.”

“
I don’t have an
invitation.”

“
I have two.”

Marissa chewed her lip. “I don’t know if I
should. I mean, I’m not with the company any more and wouldn’t want
to embarrass Baird.”

“
He’s not even going to be
here. Think about it, Mort. Sebastien’s farewell feast to
Manhattan. Portobello mushrooms…” Julian teased and Marissa
caught her breath before she laughed.

“
Oh, Julian, you’re making
my mouth water!”

“
Well, then?”

They eyed each other warily, and Julian
thought he saw an answering glimmer of excitement in Marissa’s
eyes.

“
You don’t have to do this,
Julian,” she said softly.

“
I want to.”

And he did. “Besides, it’s my obligation as
Beauforte’s legal counsel to make sure you understand the
ramifications of the agreement you just signed.”

Marissa laughed out loud. “Bull! You didn’t
cough before you said that!”

Julian felt his color rise.

“
You just want an excuse to
buy that black Hugo Boss tux they have at Abernathy’s!”

Julian caught at his heart as though he had
been lethally wounded. “Caught! The lady’s too smart for me.”
Marissa laughed again and Julian felt oddly light-hearted.

Better the devil you know, after all. He had
seen Marissa at her worst and still loved matching wits with
her.

And her best was looking very, very
promising.

“
So, what do you
say?”

Marissa smiled, revealing a pair of
enchanting dimples. “How could I possibly refuse?”

Julian crossed and took Marissa’s elbow,
liking the waft of perfume that tickled his nose. “Could I see you
out, Ms. Witlowe?”

Her dark eyes twinkled. “Via
Abernathy’s?”

Julian coughed deliberately. “I could offer
counsel on that dress.”

“
Oh, and we wouldn’t go
near the men’s department!”

Julian frowned with sudden concern.
“Marissa, you don’t think the tux is too staid, do you? I don’t
want to look old.”

“
Well, maybe they way they
have it displayed it looks conservative, but I tell you, Julian, I
saw this jacquard vest and bowtie at Bloomingdales that just
screamed your name…”

“
Ooh! What
color?”

“
Framboise. It was
absolutely luscious - elegant, yet audacious, you know? It was
perfect!” She practically dragged him to the elevator. “Come on,
I’ll show you!”

And Julian was only to happy to go.

*

It was a glorious day for a wedding. The sun
sparkled on the sea and Aurelia awakened with anticipation filling
her heart.

Baird’s single comment that he preferred
traditional weddings had opened the issue of whose traditions to
follow. Aurelia had vetoed the very idea of having a priest
officiate, while Baird had not taken well to the idea of
entertaining everyone within a day’s sail of Dunhelm for three days
and nights.

In the end, they had decided on a morning
handfasting in the gardens. A quiet ceremony with their friends
alone, at Dunhelm to close the circle of what had been begun here
so many years before.

And on the morrow, the Beauforte Dunhelm
Resort would open with a fanfare. Aurelia had laughed aloud when
Baird unveiled the resort’s logo, his wink telling her exactly why
a single arrow had been worked into the design.

Cupid’s arrow, indeed.

Aurelia smiled to herself as she dressed.
Her dress was simply cut and wrought of ivory silk. It fit her
figure smoothly, flaring to swirl around her ankles and leaving her
shoulders bare. There was a band of embroidery in the same creamy
shades across the neckline and around the hem. She had decided to
make her vows barefoot and had told Baird as much.

Just to keep his interest.

Aurelia eyed her reflection critically once
she was dressed and hoped her hair would grow back quickly. The
power of the Dreaming was vastly diminished without her hair and
even when the locks grew back, Aurelia knew they would never have
their former strength.

She could not blame Baird for preferring it
long, for she did as well, but given her choice and the same
circumstance, she gladly would cut it again. It had been a small
price to pay for Baird’s happiness.

And what need did Aurelia have of the
Dreaming when everything she had ever desired awaited her in
Dunhelm’s garden?

There came a knock on the door and Aurelia
knew it was Talorc. When she learned of the custom of fathers
escorting their daughters down the aisle, she had immediately asked
Talorc for his aid. The old man had unabashedly blinked back a tear
before he agreed.

And today, he looked as splendid in his tux
as an older Julian might. He winked at Aurelia. “Are you sure about
this young man of yours, Miss Aurelia?” he demanded gruffly, the
merry twinkle in his eye belying his protective tone.

“
Oh yes.” Aurelia felt
herself flush, but Talorc merely smiled and offered her his elbow
with a paternal air.

And as they left her room, Aurelia could
feel Gemma’s presence keeping step.

*

A harp was playing as they stepped out onto
the lawn and Aurelia’s smile widened when she saw Baird.

This time he waited for her, his hands
folded before himself, his morning suit impeccably cut. The suit
emphasized the broad width of his shoulders, showing his height and
lean strength to advantage.

Baird’s eyes glowed as Aurelia stepped into
the circle of roses and stephanotis laid in the grass. She thought
her heart might burst when the heat of his hand closed over hers.
They clasped hands left in left, right in right, and faced each
other before the crashing sea. The wind lifted her skirts ever so
slightly as she smiled up at the man who held her heart.

“
Ready, princess?” he
murmured.

Just past Baird’s shoulder, Aurelia saw the
faint shadow of the King of Inverness and his wife, their faces
wreathed in proud smiles. And Julian was there beside Baird,
Thord’s mischievous smile dancing on his lips. She looked back to
Talorc and caught a glimpse of her father in his blue eyes, then
Gemma/Ursilla’s merry twinkle right beside a glowing Elizabeth.

Beyond them all lingered three figures in
white, the Nairns themselves who wove the fate of all men into
their cloth, the features of three great priestesses cast like
shadows upon their faces. Even the women who had graced Aurelia
with their gifts now came to wish her well.

She and Baird were not alone, they never had
been. On this long-fated day, they were surrounded by all the ones
who had loved them so dearly, in this life and all others.

The pulse of Baird’s child murmured in her
belly of the future and Aurelia turned back to Baird with tears
shimmering in her eyes. “I love you so very much,” she
whispered.

Baird’s lips tugged in the half-smile that
heated Aurelia’s blood. “I’ll take that as a yes,” he murmured.
When Aurelia smiled in turn, he squeezed her fingers, the began to
recite the vows they had written themselves.

Aurelia watched as Baird pledged himself to
her, his voice ringing with quiet conviction. She did not falter in
her own oath, then Baird slid a simple gold band onto Aurelia’s
finger. The heat of his hand lingered over her own.

“
And so it was,” Aurelia
said softly.

“
And so it is,” Baird
concurred.

They stared into each other’s eyes and
simultaneously declared. “And so it always shall be.”

And when Aurelia turned laughingly into the
hail of rose petals, she saw that the shadows of those gone before
had faded like the morning mist. The power of their love lingered
in her heart, and Aurelia knew it always would be there.

Just as she knew even when this life was far
behind them, the wheel of life would circle once more. She and
Baird would return, they would find each other and share again the
power of a love that never died. The threads of their destinies
were woven tightly together and would remain entangled for all
time.

So it was.

So it is.

And so it always would be.

*

Author’s Note

Dunhelm, of course, does not truly exist,
although it is an amalgamation of many Scottish castles that I have
had the good fortune to visit. In my mind’s eye, it occupies the
northwest tip of the island of Rousay in the Orkney Islands, though
- of course! - you won’t find it there.

Nor will you find a description of the Picts
in any book as they appear here. As Talorc’s fictional book
indicates, there is very little actually known of the Picts, other
than their apparent preference for tattoos and for carving
monumental stones. Aurelia’s stone is consistent with the symbolism
of Pictish stones - with the exception of the image of Aurelia
herself - though the interpretation is entirely my own. When in
doubt, I’ve given the Picts characteristics and/or habits known of
the Celts, since the prevalent theory is that the Picts are
descendants of the Celts.

Since the Picts left no records other than
their List of Kings, their religious beliefs are also unknown. I’ve
taken the liberty of making them pagans, like the Celts, and their
religion Goddess-based, as was common throughout Europe before the
wave of conversions to Christianity. Neo-pagans and students of
European paganism will recognize the triple aspect of the Goddess,
as well as Her association with the moon.

The Stones of Stemness on the Orkney Islands
are as described, though no interpretation of their positioning
exists as explained in the text. These stones form the oldest
‘henge’ in Europe, though, and studies of others like them - for
example, Stonehenge - have revealed their ancient use as
observatories. Aurelia’s name for the Stones of Stemness and the
nearby Ring of Brodgar are my own invention - both circles were
named in the nineteenth century, so needs demanded she call them
something else.

The fertility festival of Eostre was
celebrated by European pagans, most particularly the Saxons (who
passed the event to the Norse). The Moon of Eostre began on the
first full moon after the spring equinox, and was the time when the
Goddess was “pregnant” with the promise of the growing season. The
festival also marked the Goddess’ victory over the underworld and
her triumphant return to the land of the living - bringing spring
and rebirth in her wake - an aspect echoed in the Christian
celebration of Easter.

In addition, Christianity adopted the timing
of Easter (which is still calculated on Roman calendars as the
first Sunday after the first full moon after the spring equinox)
from this festival, as well as the fertility symbols of the egg and
the bunny.

The egg as a symbol of birth and renewal is
pretty self-explanatory, but the bunny’s symbolism has nothing to
do with that creature’s reproductive abilities! Many ancient
cultures saw a Moon-hare in the full moon instead what we commonly
call the Man in the Moon. Since the full moon symbolized the
Goddess at the height of her power, the hare (or bunny) became
sacred to Her.

So, next time the moon is full, take a good
look at those dark marks and decide what you see!

*

The Last
Highlander

Scotland, 1314. After the Scots reclaim
Edinburgh Castle, Alasdair MacAuley only wants to celebrate. But
the revels are interrupted by an old crone who claims the castles
true owner is the legendary witch Morgaine le Fee. Dared by his
fellow warriors to go meet the witch, Alasdair heads down a flight
of stairs – and tumbles right into another century…

Scotland, 1998. American Morgan Lafayette is
in Scotland to enjoy the history, not to ogle men in kilts. So when
she stumbles upon a brawny man in a kilt, she is less than
enthralled. She is certain he’s drunk for he claims Morgan is a
powerful sorceress who has brought him to her magical kingdom!
Despite her reluctance, she is intensely drawn to this handsome
Highlander and the mystery surrounding him, a mystery that has the
power to alter history – and her heart – forever…

*

Praise for The Last Highlander

“
With an ending
guaranteed to bring a tear and a smile to your face,
The Last Highlander
is a quick-paced, thoroughly
entertaining read. A winner!”