A Season of Miracles (20 page)
Read A Season of Miracles Online
Authors: Heather Graham
There were no more entries until then.
Dear God, I am so excited, so jubilant, it is near impossible to keep the secret! That I am so loved, so cherished, is a gift unequaled on earth. I thought myself insane, for there was no talk of the armies or soldiers nearby, no Cavaliers or Roundheads, and yet I believed. He had said that he would come, and so I went to the river. There, in the moonlight, with an owl crying out softly above, I found him. He had come with just a few of his men. I ran to him and I greeted his friends, and I told them all what I knew of the situation in London and in the field. At first I wondered why he had come to me with others to witness the night. Then I knew, for a priest stepped forward, and my love went down upon one knee, a glimmer of the moon's refection alight in his eyes, and he most humbly asked for my handâadmitting, of course, that he was just a commoner and I, after all, the daughter of a lord.
There, in the night, with the sounds of the river flowing and the owls and the night birds, the scent of summer wildflowers on the air, before God I swore to be his wife, and he vowed to be my husband. He had brought sweet wine from the King himself, and we drank and danced in the moonlight. Then all witnesses melted away, and we were alone in the soft yellow glow of the fire, surrounded by shadow. There was the comfort of the earth, the beauty of my love, the perfect warmth of his strength. And when at last the dawn itself came, he spoke gravely of the worry that plagued him. I assured him that I was well and strong and could manage Sir Walter and his underlings! He told me that he wished I would come with him, but I again argued that he must stay. I could not desert my beloved parent or my father's home. He swore that he loved me, held me, cradled me, and vowed that he would come, through wind and rain, snow or fire, that he would be with me, if ever I called, if ever there was the slightest need.
“Hey!”
The voice so startled Jillian that she dropped the book, feeling as guilty as if she had been involved in an illegal endeavor.
It was Griff, standing in the doorway.
“Hey back,” she said, amazed that she was still trembling.
“You're late.”
“Late?”
“For dinner.”
“Dinner? It can't be.”
“Jillian, trust me, it is. Would I lie to you? Well, would I lie to anyone about something so trivial as dinner?”
She grinned, closing the book. “No, you wouldn't lie about dinner.”
“I don't really lie.”
“You wouldn't
fib
about something so trivial as dinner.”
He bowed gallantly, offering her his arm. She grinned and took it, and they started out of the library together. As they turned toward the stairs, Griff suddenly paused. She saw that he was surveying them in the mirror at the far end of the hall. “Great-looking couple,” he teased.
Griff
was
handsome. Tall, blond, with sculpted features, generous lips, large, deep-set eyes. She matched him well, with her light hair, just touched with red, and her own slimness and height.
“You're just gorgeous,” she said.
“Not like tall, dark Robert Marston, though, huh?”
“You're my cousin, and you know I adore you,” she assured him. On tiptoe, she kissed his cheek.
He sighed. “Scrod awaits. Feathery light, perfectly dusted with bread crumbs. Of course, let me remind you that we're not all that closely related. If Tall, Dark and Overpaid falls short.”
She laughed, but she was aware that the sound was just a little uneasy. She really was irritated by Robert's unfair attitude toward her family. Sure they all had their quirks. Eileen was most often sweet, always very talentedâbut a young woman with a chip on her shoulder, always worried that people weren't taking her seriously. Maybe she had the right. They'd both had to fight for their places with three male cousins. For all Griff's devil-may-care manner, he knew how to deal with buyers and could charm almost anyone into taking a chance. Then there was Daniel, so serious that he seldom knew how to play anymore. And Theo, the most steadfast, but with his own secret world.
But they were her family. All that she had. And they meant everything to her. Robert Marston couldn't change that with his ridiculous suspicions.
She was angry, she realized, especially angry that he seemed all but convinced she was the object of some foul plot, when he didn't believe in anything else. All of this had started on Halloween, with the tarot card reader. He didn't believe in the occult, in the miraculous, in anything beyond what was flesh and blood or tangible. But there he was, dreaming about
her
deceased husband's ghostâand casting blame upon her closest relations.
“Hey, are you with me?” Griff asked. “You
are
in love with him, aren't you.”
“Himâ¦?”
“Oh, please. Robert Marston.”
“IâGriff, he just came into the company. I would never do anything soâ¦quickly. I hardly even know him.” She turned to him curiously. “What do you think of him?”
He shrugged. “He seems to be a good enough guy. Theo thinks well of him, and he should know. They went through college together.”
“So you approve?”
He laughed. “Do you care if I approve?”
“Well, yeah, I guess I do. This family means a lot to me.”
“Ah, there's Douglas speaking.”
“Maybe. Doesn't the family matter to you?”
“More than I ever let on,” he said. “More than I ever let on. Come on, let's get down to dinner. I like Robert just fine. As long as he stays out of my office and remembers that I'm a Llewellyn, lord of the castle. Well, okay, one of a pack of lords of the castle, but you know what I mean.”
“Hey, up there!”
Douglas was at the foot of the stairs, calling them.
“Coming,” Griff responded.
“Race you down,” she challenged him.
They were probably lucky they didn't break their necks. Griff was beating Jillian, so she jumped up on the banister and slid down. He jumped down the last few steps and crashed to the floor, and she came sliding down on top of him. They were both laughing hysterically.
She hadn't realized that Robert was talking to her grandfather, that he was leaning against the door frame that led into the dining room. He watched her as she took Douglas's hand and rose, sobering.
“Shall we eat, since everyone is waiting?” Douglas asked pleasantly.
“Of course. Sorry.” She hurried into the dining room.
Daniel had been talking earlier about heading back that night, but now, because of a slight warming that day and a freeze setting in, the roads were dangerous. Daniel paused as Douglas entered and everyone sat down. Douglas always said grace. He did so, and as soon as the prayer was completed, Daniel said, “Jilly, pass the potatoes, please. I wonder if I should still get on the road,” he went on, returning to his previous topic.
“We'd planned on going back tomorrow,” Robert reminded him.
“Yeah, I know. It's just that with all of us here, every exec in the office is out,” Daniel said.
“Joe Murphy will be in. And Connie can handle a lot of what comes up,” Robert said.
“Oh, yeah, Connie can handle a lot,” Daniel murmured. Jillian found herself studying him, wondering what had been going on in his room. Was he seeing Connie? She couldn't believe it. Not hereânot with Joe in the same house. Connie loved Joe. And they had those two beautiful little girls.
It couldn't have been Connie. It must have been Gracie.
“As long as someone is in by the afternoon,” Theo said. “I wasn't planning on heading back at the crack of dawnâtoo cold, the roads will still be bad. But if we head straight into the city around ten, that should be all right.”
“Sounds good to me,” Eileen agreed.
“Can you believe it's this bad in early November?” Gracie Janner asked.
“Which means it will be great when we get around to filming in Florida,” Griff commented.
“We're filming in Florida?” Jillian said.
“You didn't know?” Robert asked.
“Artists never pay attention at meetings,” Griff said with an overly dramatic sigh.
Â
Jillian was definitely angry with him, Robert realized as the night went on. Well, she loved her family, naturally, and he had attacked them. However, she was being a fool to ignore the danger.
Too many strange events were occurring. First the tarot card reader. Something just wasn't right there. Then there was the strange incident of the cat, which died in her office. Of natural causes? Of old age? The cat hadn't looked all that old to him. Had the others finding the cat inadvertently ruined the plan for her to find a black cat dead on her desk immediately following the Halloween tarot card reader?
The cat had been cremated, but there was a lot that could be learned from ashes, or so he hoped, because he wanted to know exactly how Jeeves had died.
Then, a fence down, a speeding truck. An accident? Maybe just a hoped-for accident?
Next, a broken saddle girth. On the horse anyone would have assumed she would be riding. Well, he'd taken the girth, and it was going to the cops, too, and he was damn well going to find out if normal wear and tear had been given a hand. A dangerous hand.
Jillian wouldn't listen to him, but at least she was nearby, where he could keep an eye on her.
He was tired, having spent the afternoon with Daniel, going over plans for the new campaign, but he didn't intend to leave her alone to go sliding down a banister again. He stayed up, not participating, but watching as the house was decorated. It was clearly Jillian's project, with Henry her right-hand man, and for once the others seemed willing to be the workforce. They did seem more like siblings than cousins, he had to admit. They joked, teased, argued, scuffled, ruffled feathers, mostly made up.
Daniel gave up for the night first. Soon after, Eileen and Gary gave in, and Jillian followed them.
She kissed her grandfather, then offered a cool “Good night, Robert.”
He didn't stall, just bid Douglas good-night, thanking him for his hospitality.
“It was a working weekendâno thanks needed,” Douglas told him gruffly.
“Maybe, but I enjoyed myself.”
Great house, he thought as he went up the stairs. Great place to raise kids.
From his bedroom, he heard Jillian moving around in hers. Then he heard her settle down to bed. In the darkness, he pressed his temples. No mulled wine tonight, but he felt a slight buzz, anyway. He'd indulged in some hundred-and-fifty-year-old cognac with Douglas. Not that much, but it felt now as if he'd imbibed for hours.
“No ghosts tonight, okay?” he mocked himself aloud. He gave his pillow a punch and settled down, praying for some sleep.
Â
A hot shower had done little to soothe her, and Jillian didn't think she would ever be able to sleep. She was still too bothered by the ride that morning, and by Robert's attitude. He had made no attempt to talk to her that night, but every time she'd looked at him, she'd known what he was thinking.
Fool.
And still she wished she knew him better, longer. She wanted to argue with him the way she might if they were a real couple. Disagree, but not step away from him. Never let the sun go down on an argument, Milo had told her once. She believed it. And if she were really in love, if they were looking toward the future, they could retire to the same room, hash it out, even keep their own opposite opinions and still curl into bed together.
She reflected on the book she had been reading that afternoon, on Morwenna and her Michael. A war lay between them. They were on the same side, but it tore their country apart, destroyed her home. And still what they had found between them gave them strength and faith through adversity.
Warmthâ¦
She remembered the words of the diary entry.
He came to me last nightâ¦.
Had she dozed? She opened her eyes, thinking, remembering, longing for the warmth.
And there he was, standing at the foot of her bed, in a long velour robe. Red, she thought, but she couldn't tell, because the shadows of the night were too thick. It was as if he had been waiting for her to see him; then he came slowly to her, and she sat up in bed, words on her lips but not falling. He hadn't asked her permission to be there; she had said they needed to keep their distance.
But she was glad he was there. So glad. She left the bed, going to meet him. She looked up at him, curling her arms around his waist, laying her face against his chest, where the soft velour of the robe and the bristle of short dark hair teased her nose and cheeks. His fingers moved into her hair and she felt his kiss on the top of her head. She looked up at him again, and once again, words hovered on her lips, but he laid his finger over them, and the deep, uncanny blue of his eyes fell upon her with a brooding depth of emotion that seemed to stop her heart from beating. He never said a word, but she was suddenly in his arms, feeling his kiss, meeting it with her own, feeling a burning hunger, desire that bordered on magic, the essence of dreams.
