Claire Delacroix (23 page)

Well, not exactly. A closer look revealed that there were common elements - the crescent, for example - but that this stone was slightly different.

Still, it was weird how closely the two resembled each other and how neatly this dovetailed with Aurelia’s story. Baird glanced at a map on the next page which marked every Pictish stone in Scotland with a dot and was reassured. There were hundreds of the damn things!

And it didn’t mean that the slab in the well had been there since the time of the Picts. One thing that struck Baird about Europe was that people reused every little thing, artifact or otherwise. If that stone was laying around here just when someone wanted to make a stone door, they would have thought nothing of using it.

The carved slab in the well could have originally been anywhere within a couple of miles.

Although that wouldn’t explain why the woman carved on it was dressed exactly as Aurelia had been. She certainly couldn’t have moved it there herself, even if it had cohered perfectly with the story she had concocted.

Baird’s gaze lifted of its own accord to the mysterious shadows lurking far beyond his window, shadows that marked the stairs descending into the well. Instead of solving a mystery when he laid those stairs bare to the sunlight, Baird had opened a nest of enigmas.

All centered around Aurelia.

Maybe that stone wasn’t as much like her as he recalled. Suddenly, Baird’s exhaustion slipped away. He had to go and see the stone again, right now.

A walk, after all, would do him good.

* * *

Aurelia was cold and cramped, damp and irritable by the time she heard the faint crunch of footsteps overhead.

Someone to help her!

She screamed as loud as she could and barely dared to breathe until she heard the steps hurry in her direction. The arc of a light cut through the night, and she blinked as it shone directly on her.

“What in the hell are you doing down there?” Bard demanded and Aurelia’s heart sank.

Trust him to be the one to find her!

“I fell,” she admitted irritably.

“So I see.” The light flicked away and Aurelia could see Bard crouched on the edge, his elbows braced on his knees. That wry smile was tugging at the corner of his lips and her defiance melted just a little.

Oh, the cursed man fairly oozed with charm!

“So, are you naturally this much trouble, princess, or do you have to work at it?”

Trust him to find it amusing that she was trapped here! Why, it probably suited Bard well to see her in such foul circumstance!

“You may find this humorous, but I do not!”

He openly considered the depth of the pit she had fallen into, then looked back to her with a heart-wrenching grin. “It’s a good thing you’re so cute, because you sure are a lot of trouble.”

There was a charge that hit too close to home. Such belittling compliments had been the reason Aurelia learned to fire the crossbow. “I am not cute!” she cried. “I am a warrior!”

“A regular Amazon,” Bard agreed easily and she knew he was mocking her even without understanding the reference. “My seventh foster mother would have said you were in a fine pickle, princess. Seems your warrior skills aren’t getting you out of it.”

Bard might be in a teasing mood, but Aurelia’s sense of humor had been chilled out of her hours before. “Seventh foster mother? No one has that many foster mothers!”

“Wrong, princess.” His expression turned grim again. “I had fourteen. And foster fathers to match.”

“What need had you of so many?”

Bard’s lips thinned. “I didn’t need any of them,” he said tightly. “Just like they didn’t need me.” He pushed to his feet and cleared his throat. “Now, do you want some help?”

As much as it galled Aurelia to accept his assistance, there was no other means of escape. “Yes, please.” She wrapped her arms around herself and felt a shudder ripple through her, despite her determination to appear strong.

“Then, let’s get you out of there.” He straightened and Aurelia hated how she admired the lean strength of his legs. He was back with a rope in short order.

And when the warm grip of his hand finally closed over her own, Aurelia hated that she felt safe and secure once more. She could not help but shiver at the contrast between her cool flesh and his warmth.

It could be no more than that.

Bard’s voice dropped and his gaze sharpened. “Your hands are freezing, princess! How long have you been down there?” The concern in his eyes nearly undid her resolve.

Oh, the man could feign caring for her so well that even knowing it was a ploy did not strengthen Aurelia’s resistance!

“Since shortly after we came back from town,” Aurelia admitted, feeling her cheeks heat at her own foolishness.

He swore under his breath and peeled off his own jacket, wrapping its welcome warmth around her and bundling her back into his hall. Aurelia let him do so, hating how relieved she felt to have someone so obviously capable taking charge.

Were she not aware of his dark intent, she could have come to rely upon this man.

But that would be dangerous indeed.

* * *

“Come on, princess, into the shower, no excuses.”

What?
Marissa pressed her ear to the door and listened shamelessly. Trust Aurelia to have foiled Marissa’s plans! That woman’s door opened and closed, but Baird did not come back into the hall.

Marissa heard the water come on in the adjacent room and hated the mental image that came along with it. She stalked back across the room and snuffed the candles with disgust.

So that was how it was going to be. Marissa surveyed the wilted flowers, the sorry excuse for a romantic dinner that was all she had been able to acquire in town and grimaced.

She could have accepted defeat, packed her bags and moved out, but Marissa was not a quitter.

Especially with stakes like this.

But the fact that Baird was already sleeping with Aurelia demanded some hard reconsideration of the facts. Baird might not have time to tire of Aurelia if that woman kept things moving at this pace. They could be at the altar before Baird even noticed that the blonde was not firing on all cylinders.

Marissa eyed her reflection assessingly, her perfect display of decolletage, and reluctantly acknowledged that thirty-five carefully managed years still had a hard time competing with a nubile blond of twenty. Marissa faced the ugly reality that her charms might not be enough to snare the big fish.

At least not in open competition. She smiled confidently at her reflection, knowing the time for subtlety was passed.

It was time to bring out the heavy artillery.

* * *

Baird was a bit surprised by how protective he felt of Aurelia. Like an old mother hen, he ushered her back into her room and turned the shower on full.

“Come on, princess, you’re chilled to the bone.”

Baird supposed he should have been encouraged by the fire that lit Aurelia’s eyes. “I will not disrobe in your presence!”

Baird shoved his hands into his pockets and backed away, the steam of the shower encouraging his imagination to run wild. He remembered all too well the flash of her ankles beneath the changeroom door this afternoon.

“Don’t I get any thanks for helping you out of that pit?” Baird tried to smile engagingly, but Aurelia wasn’t having any of it.

“Thank you,” she said frostily. “Now, leave me be.”

He was batting a thousand here.

She didn’t want him anywhere near her, obviously enough. Not being wanted was a familiar sense for Baird, but this time, the awareness that his presence was unwelcome really stung.

“Fine!”

Baird left the steamy bathroom and returned to his room, unable to completely account for his foul mood. He paced its length and back, telling himself that what he needed was a good night’s sleep.

After all, there were more important things on his plate right now than the opinion of one troublesome, deluded princess.

* * *

Chapter Fifteen

This dream came stealthily and Aurelia welcomed the difference in its tone. This time, she well knew, she would have some answers. The scene was a peaceful one, though Aurelia realized that she occupied the view of another, yet again.

He was a young man, and he walked down to the sea towards a ship bobbing in the harbor. The ship was familiar to Aurelia, she noted with a start, for it was the Viking ship her sire had kept in good repair. Its high curving prow was carved with a serpent’s head and shields hung along the rails. The men were unfurling a great red sail that tugged in the wind as they checked its rigging.

The sky arched blue overhead, the wind ruffled his hair, and though the mood here was festive, the man’s heart had only one shadow upon it.

Someone was leaving.

A good friend was going home, a friend whose company he would miss. And they walked together to the harbor. Aurelia glanced to the one who matched his steps to those of the young man and her heart skipped a beat.

The fair-haired and blue-eyed man was none other than her brother, Thord.

She felt the strength of the bond between these two men. They were friends of the heart and this man ached that Thord was setting sail.

Aurelia’s waking mind puzzled over these details. Whose view could she be sharing? It must be someone of whom she had heard, for this must have happened before Thord’s death.

“You must come and meet my sister,” Thord said and Aurelia nearly wept at the familiarity of his voice. How she had missed him! “We could be truly brothers if you two wed, blood brothers, instead of just having fostered together.”

Fostering. Thord had fostered with the High King of Inverness. Aurelia remembered that all too well - and he had returned to Dunhelm just shortly before his untimely demise.

His talk had been full of his foster brother Bridei, the prince and heir of Inverness. That must be whose view Aurelia shared.

“It is no small thing to have trained in arms together,” Bridei replied. The calm assurance of his voice pleased Aurelia and she recalled all too well Thord’s certainty that they two would be a good match.

“We are brothers in deed, Thord, if not in blood.”

Thord smiled and gripped his shoulder. “You are the greatest friend that ever I have had. Do not blame my weakness if I would have your friendship closer.” He winked and dropped his voice to a mischievous whisper. “Though Aurelia would have a dim view of the havoc we have wreaked among women.”

They chuckled together and Aurelia knew fleetingly that this was a reference to some old adventure they had shared. Bridei nudged his friend. “The ale mistress is likely still waiting for you, after last night.”

“Oh, after spilling a pitcher on my new tunic?” Thord rolled his eyes. “The Valkyries themselves could not drag me back to that abode. One must wonder whether such people have no idea of the difficulties of acquiring fine cloth.”

“Do you go a-viking in Micklegarth before your return?”

Thord laughed. “Ah, the lure of civilization! I am tempted, but my father would have my head if I took such a delay in coming home.” His lips thinned. “There is some trouble brewing evidently.” He frowned, then clapped his friend on the shoulder. “You must come to Dunhelm, Bridei. And soon.”

Aurelia felt a certainty of purpose dawn in Bridei’s heart. Here was a man who pledged to do a thing and kept his word. “Do not fear. I will come.”

They embraced before the moored ship, then Thord danced across the wharf. “You had best hurry!” he called, his eyes dancing with a mischief that seemed oddly familiar. “Knowing Aurelia, she will have gotten herself into some fix or another.”

The affection in Thord’s voice brought tears to Aurelia’s eyes.

“Did I tell you that she had taken it upon herself to handle a crossbow? A crossbow! Leave it to Aurelia! She insisted that men must learn to take her seriously.” Thord wagged a finger knowingly. “One of these days, she will get herself into a muddle with no way out. She needs someone like you, Bridei, someone of good sense who will pluck her out of trouble!”

“Ha! Where does it say that I want a wife in need only of caretaking?” Bridei called laughingly into the wind.

Thord grinned. “You need a wife who will not bore you and - trust me! - there is never a dull moment with Aurelia around.”

Both men laughed and Aurelia’s ears burned with the certainty that this Bridei knew a great deal about the trouble she had found in her days. Thord had always been too talkative.

The seamen began throwing off the mooring ropes and the crowd gathered on the beach shouted good wishes. No sooner had the ship been pushed off into the sea, than the solidly-built ale mistress pushed her way to the front of the crowd. She scowled when she spied Thord, but that man waved merrily to her.

“Farewell!” he cried. “Keep your ale off your patron’s garb!”

The woman cussed. Bridei grinned as an unrepentant Thord lent his hand to the work of hoisting the sail.

And Aurelia heard the admiration in his thoughts.
Thord talked a lot, he worried too much about his garb, but his heart was pure gold.

It was all painfully true.

Then Thord waved once more, laughed and he was gone.

And Aurelia felt cool tears on her cheeks.

* * *

The dream blurred and Baird was once again at his first day of university. Rootless and determined to make his way alone, he felt once more the fear of being in a new and strange environment.

Baird should have been used to solitude by then, but the university was so crowded that it overwhelmed him. Everything was new, everything was different, and everyone else seemed to know the rules already.

Unlike Baird.

No one had driven him to the residence, no one had loaded him up with stereos and chips and old dishes and bedding. No one had waved goodbye or even wished him well. He would have been confused if they had. Baird had taken the Greyhound bus to the university town, with one bag holding all his worldly possessions.