Time Travel Romances Boxed Set (7 page)

On the far side of the hall, a pair of
staircases wound skyward like two embracing arms, their curves
smooth beyond belief. Rails gleamed gold on either side of each
staircase and red tapestries were being laid against the stone
stairs.

Despite her determination to despise
everything associated with Bard, son of Erc, Aurelia was
impressed.

A long table of dark wood was being
assembled between the ends of the staircases, its front rife with
ornamentation. The wood gleamed with a reddish hue alien to this
corner of the world. Where the staircases met high above, Aurelia
could just spot a wide double doorway.

The hall was filled with the sounds of
hammering and men muttering. She assumed they chanted the spells
that made such wizardry possible. And such power!

Aurelia feared suddenly that her abilities
might be as nothing compared to the sorcery of Bard and his
priest.

But it would not do to let this priest see
her doubts.

The priest shook his head impatiently. “I
know it isn’t done, we’re weeks behind schedule, but it doesn’t
look so bad that you have to stare! Surely you can see that the
reception area will be stunning when it’s finally finished?”

The reception area?

This was not even the king’s hall?

Aurelia swallowed with an effort. She had
never seen such wealth and could not imagine that anything could be
more ostentatious than this. For the son of a reviled and deposed
king, Bard was unexpectedly affluent. How had he amassed such
awesome wealth?

Through no honest means, Aurelia was certain
of that.

*

“
Hellooooooo, Julian!
Darling, how are you?”

The priest and Aurelia swiveled as one to
find a woman waving her fingertips from the other side of the hall.
Aurelia’s heart lurched at the sight of King Bard looming behind
the slender woman and she cursed her own feminine weakness. His
arms were folded across his chest and he looked doubly grim.

The woman’s black garb fit her every curve
and did not even fall long enough to cover her knees. Her features
were beautiful, her skin pale, her lips full and reddened, her eyes
thickly lashed. She tripped across the floor, somehow keeping her
balance in ridiculously restraining shoes.

None of the other men in the hall seemed to
take notice of the woman’s bold display of her assets, though the
priest’s lips thinned tellingly.

Aurelia understood immediately. This woman
was competition for the king’s attention, for she was obviously
Bard’s whore. What priestly advisor would not resent such
influence? A whore had more than the king’s ear in her keeping!

And clearly, by his expression, Bard did not
want his whore showering her attention on anyone but himself. He
stalked behind her across the floor, as though he abandoned their
private conversation only because he had little choice. His brow
was as dark as thunder.

No, he was not pleased. Aurelia concluded
that the whore must be expensive to indulge, and that Bard,
reasonably enough, considered his indulgence to earn him her
exclusive attention.

The whore evidently had other ideas. She
laid a hand on the priest’s arm in a most friendly manner, and even
had the audacity to give him a peck of greeting on one cheek, then
the other, then the first again.

The priest stiffened and did not return her
salute.

The whore, though, was too preoccupied to
notice. Her cold gaze swept over Aurelia, and a glint flashed in
her eyes, revealing that she recognized the sweater as the king’s
own. The tightening of those reddened lips showed what she thought
of that.

Aurelia knew enough of whores to understand
that the woman considered her a competitive threat. As laughable as
that was, Aurelia instinctively braced herself for a fight.

“
How are you, Julian,
darling? It’s been so terribly long!”

“
Really?” The priest’s tone
was cold, undoubtedly for the benefit of the king now closing the
space between them with long strides. “Perhaps not long
enough.”

The woman laughed. “Oh, Julian.” She rapped
a fingertip on his arm playfully. “Darling! You’re such a kidder.”
She leaned against him, her breast pushing against his arm, and
eyed Aurelia with open assessment. “Isn’t he just the most
hysterically funny man?”

She batted her lashes at Aurelia, then gave
Julian a playful pinch. “Come along now, Julian, my darling man.
Don’t be shy! Tell me, now, is this your new flame? Don’t be
naughty, darling - introduce us, do! She looks like such a precious
little waif.”

The priest coughed in agitation and, though
Aurelia didn’t understand what fire had to do with anything, she
caught the woman’s meaning.

Then Bard loomed beside her, his deep voice
interjecting before the priest could sputter an answer. “Princess
Aurelia is a guest of the estate.” His tone was resolute.

Aurelia was perversely pleased that he used
her title and acknowledged her rank, then chided herself for being
so easily charmed.

Again.

“
Really?” the woman purred,
her dark gaze gobbling up a thousand details. “Princess, is it,
darling?” she asked, her smirk condescending. “I suppose you must
be on terribly close terms with the Queen Elizabeth, then? I would
so love to have tea with her, you know, and talk woman to woman. I
could straighten out those children of hers, I’m just sure they
only need a good talking-to…”

Aurelia blinked in surprise. “I know no
Queen Elizabeth.”

“
Europe, then, darling?
Prince Rainier is said to be the nicest person, once you get to
know him on a more personal level, you know, darling. I suppose you
do?” The whore’s wide gaze implied that she supposed no such
thing.

Fortunately, Aurelia had been raised with
impeccable manners, even if these barbarians had not. She drew
herself up tall and did not miss the fleeting smile that curved
Bard’s lips.

“
I am afraid I do not know
this prince of your acquaintance,” Aurelia admitted with a smile
far more gracious than the whore deserved. Two could play this old
game of one-upmanship. “Perhaps you might introduce us, at your own
convenience, of course.”

The whore caught her breath, but before she
could speak, the priest interjected. “Oh, yes, why don’t you have
them both over for tea one day?” There was an edge underlying his
tone and the whore fired a hostile glance in his direction. “When
are you planning to see dear Rainier next?”

The whore gritted her teeth and looked
daggers at the priest. Apparently any hostile feelings were mutual.
“I have yet to make his acquaintance, darling,” she admitted in a
low growl.

“
Really?” The priest’s
surprise was obviously feigned. “And here I had thought you were
the best of friends. How could I have gotten such an
idea?”

“
Back to your corners,”
Bard interjected. “We don’t want Aurelia to imagine that you two
don’t like each other.” He quirked a brow at Aurelia with such a
conspiratorial air that she knew the truth was exactly
thus.

Her foolish heart fluttered at his
attention, and she fought to hide any sign of her response from
that perceptive gaze.

“
Oh, no, never that,” the
priest muttered.

Aurelia ignored him and summoned her most
regal manner - ignoring for the moment that she was wearing no more
than a tunic - to address the whore with a winning smile. “We have
not been introduced, of course, but you must be Morticia.”

The priest choked and the whore gasped in
outrage.

Aurelia looked between the two of them in
confusion, then to Bard, unable to guess what she had said wrong.
His eyes flashed and she knew that somehow she had put her foot
right into it.

Not that that was a new experience for
Aurelia.

She quickly decided to take refuge in her
guise of stupidity. Aurelia opened her eyes wide and blinked
owlishly at the king. “But you said you had an appointment…” she
began in a childishly high voice.

“
With Marissa,” he
interrupted tersely before Aurelia could finish. “This is Marissa
Witlowe, our interior design consultant.”

The introduction meant nothing to Aurelia,
beyond the woman’s name, which made it easier to smile like an
insipid fool.

Marissa did not smile. “I do all the
interiors, darling,” she echoed in a low voice, a warning light in
her dark eyes. She looped one hand through Bard’s elbow and looked
up at him with proprietary smile. “Baird and I work very closely
together, darling, especially on a project of the magnitude of
Dunhelm, so don’t be terribly surprised if he can’t manage to find
a speck of time for you.”

She turned that cold smile on Aurelia and
her eyes were dark with what was clearly a threat. “Even if you are
royalty.” Marissa’s tone implied that she suspected precisely the
opposite.

The priest chose that moment to take
Aurelia’s elbow with proprietary ease. “Well, it’s time we found
you a room,” he said with false cheer. He continued in a cutting
tone. “As delightful as it has been to see you again, Marissa,
unfortunately duty calls.”

Marissa’s cold gaze scanned Aurelia from
head to toe, then locked with Aurelia’s own once more. “You know,
darling, I do understand that spring is coming, but it might be a
teensy bit premature to dress so “ - she waved a hand vaguely – “
understatedly.”

“
Good point, Marissa.”
Bard’s tone was even, as though he had either not noticed his
whore’s antagonism or had chosen to ignore it. “Perhaps you could
help Aurelia with that. She’s without anything to wear right now
and Tex said you flew in enough luggage for a family of
five.”

Marissa’s finely arched eyebrows shot
skyward, but Bard did not give her an opportunity to ask.

“
Surely you could lend
Aurelia something to wear at dinner?”

Marissa’s lip curled in a disgust Aurelia
was sharing, but the smile she turned on Bard was demure. She even
raised one hand to her throat as though something had stuck
there.

“
She’s going to eat dinner
with us, darling? But she’s just a guest! And I had thought that we
would have a private dinner to discuss the decor.”

The whore fluttered her lashes so
provocatively that Aurelia knew “decor” had something to do with
matters of intimacy.

At dinner. Shameless slut.

“
Of course, she’s going to
eat with us.” Bard turned a smile on his whore that was obviously
designed to dissolve feminine resistance. “There are so few of us
here, it would be ridiculous to split up for dinner.”

When the whore said nothing, Bard took her
elbow with an ease born of familiarity, and lowered his voice to a
confidential tone. “I’m sure you can find something, Marissa. I
might need my sweater, after all,” he said with a wink that could
melt knees.

The whore’s defiance faded into a compliant
smile. “Whatever you like, darling,” she murmured, staring up at
Bard, and Aurelia knew it was time they parted ways.

She had no desire to watch this seduction
unfold.

Fortunately, the priest seemed to feel the
same way. “Good, that’s settled.” He tapped Aurelia’s elbow
crisply. “Why don’t we head upstairs and find you a room, hmm?”

Aurelia needed no encouragement to follow
his lead, though she did not imagine the other pair even noticed
them leaving. That irked her, but Aurelia told herself that it was
just the breach of good manners that burned.

It could be nothing else.

*

“
Just what we need - things
going from bad to worse,” the priest muttered under his breath as
he trudged up the stairs.

It was obvious he referred to the whore and
equally clear that he was not ashamed of expressing the
sentiment.

“
I mean, I knew she had to
show up sometime but was hoping for later rather than sooner, if
you know what I mean.”

Aurelia watched him from the corner of her
eye, uncertain what to make of this confession. For once, she held
her tongue.

He sighed. “She’s so high maintenance - God!
She just drives me crazy. At dinner, we’ll be hearing about all the
burdens she has to bear, you can be sure of it.” The priest’s voice
rose to a falsetto mimicking Marissa’s accent. “My blow dryer isn’t
wired in yet, Baird, darling, can’t you just come along to my room
tonight and fix it for me, darling?”

The priest shrugged as though he would
dismiss his irritation and forced a smile for Aurelia. “Sorry. This
has nothing to do with you. I shouldn’t be venting.”

“
I understand how you
feel,” Aurelia said carefully. “An influential whore can be a great
trial in a household.”

The priest sputtered, then fired an
incredulous glance at her. “You’re serious!” he gasped.

Aurelia was confused by his surprise. “You
do not agree?”

The priest’s lips twisted, then he abruptly
laughed out loud. “Well, yes, I do, actually, but people seldom
state the truth so bluntly.” He chuckled to himself for a moment,
then shook his head.

Aurelia was unable to see the difficulty in
calling someone by their station in the household, let alone what
was amusing about it. “If that is her place, then there’s no point
in garnishing the truth.”

The priest shrugged. “Well, I suppose not,
though calling Marissa a whore might be a bit harsh.”

Aurelia blinked. “Is that not what she
is?”

The priest fired a sidelong glance in
Aurelia’s direction. He coughed behind his hand. “Technically, I
wouldn’t know precisely what happens in Baird’s bed,” he said
archly. “She does do the interiors of every Beauforte Resort,
though I have to say that I don’t think she’s overly talented.” He
sniffed with obvious disdain. “I suppose anyone could make their
own conclusions from that.”