Claire Delacroix (35 page)

A tear slipped from the old king’s eye and trickled down his weathered cheek. “But at what price?” he whispered, his gaze scanning the sword.

“Where is he?” the woman asked tightly.

“Hekod had him raised high and sent to his rest with full Viking ceremony, as befits a true hero. His missive and gifts await in the hall, though he bade me confess to you that the price of Dunhelm was far too great.”

The woman bit her lip and turned away, her tears falling with renewed vigor.

The king looked up at her and his lips worked for a moment before any sound came. “I am sorry, I am so sorry, my love. I should never have sent Bridei alone on such a mission.” He shook his head and his tears scattered like jewels. “I should have gone with him, I should have defended him.”

He heaved a ragged sigh and reached up to touch his wife’s face. Her tears spilled over his hand. “My son,” she whispered brokenly, her voice raw with disbelief. “My only son is lost.”

The sight of her pain seemed to renew the king. He rose to his feet and swept her into his arms, casting aside the blade as he held her tightly. She sobbed against his chest and clutched at his shoulders.

The king’s whispered words were fierce. “I should never have left unprotected someone we both held so dear. I have failed you, my love, in the one thing that mattered most.”

The king took a deep breath and looked deeply into his wife’s eyes. “Forgive me.”

Though her eyes still shimmered with her tears, the woman’s lips set with resolve. She reached up to frame the king’s battered face in her hands and pressed her lips eloquently to his.

“You could not have known,” she whispered softly and the king wept anew. Angus discreetly looked away from the pair, a shimmer in his own eyes.

The image was suddenly gone, leaving Baird cold in the brisk spring wind atop the hill.

He was surprised to find his own cheeks damp with tears and a lump lodged in his throat. He turned to gaze over the awakening town below as he fought to control his emotional response.

Much to his amazement, Baird’s father had not blamed Bridei for failing.

In that time, in that place, his father had loved him, without condition or reservation.

And Baird remembered.

He remembered not only the events, but he felt again the power of that love lifting in his heart. He had spent this lifetime striving for success, no success good enough because his parents had found him unworthy of their interest even before he let out his first cry.

Baird saw that he had driven himself hard for nothing. His parents in this life had invested nothing in him and deserved no dividend from what he had made of himself. Baird had done it alone, but he realized that it didn’t have to be that way. There were those who loved without restraint, without judgment, without condemnation.

As Baird stood above the awakening town, he felt how much difference love could make in his life.

Coming to Dunhelm had brought Baird a tremendous gift. A week ago, he would have insisted that reincarnation was nonsense. Now, he knew without doubt that he had lived before. He had known Julian, he had experienced a father’s love, he had gone to Dunhelm and died there.

Twice.

Baird shoved his hands into his pockets and wandered back to the cobbled streets of Inverness, thinking furiously the entire way. The musketeer had been him as well, he knew, though that had been at some time between Bridei and now. Baird had come back to Dunhelm again, and he had done so to find Aurelia.

Gemdelovely Gemdelee.

Baird remembered Ursilla’s story in every detail and fitted it to not only his own dreams, but Aurelia’s story. He had lived not once, not twice, but many times, he was certain. Baird tipped his head back and eyed the windy bluff overhead, acknowledging all the mysteries he could not explain.

A trust dawned within Baird that things could be true, even if he couldn’t explain them.

In his dreams, he changed. Baird came to Dunhelm in different lives and different skins, each time bent on the same goal that drove his soul. And Julian had been Thord all those years ago. Same man, different vehicle.

But Aurelia was always Aurelia.

Quite simply because she was twelve hundred years old. Her wild tale was true, it had to be. There was no other explanation for the fact that she was always the same.

She was always waiting for him. Baird’s heart clenched.

At least, he hoped she was still waiting for him. He hadn’t been very quick off the mark this time, that was for sure. But whether Luan’s prophecy was right or not, Baird was suddenly very determined to prove himself to be the one for Aurelia.

She was everything he had ever hoped to find in a woman, everything he hadn’t even known he had been looking for. He could talk to her, he could laugh with her, he had come looking for her a thousand times before.

Baird couldn’t risk losing her now.

* * *

As soon as Aurelia heard the distinctive sound of the returning helicopter, she lunged out of the hall and strode across the turf. She might have lost this battle, but she could still make one last entreaty before Baird proposed to Marissa.

She could not let him make this mistake.

She would not let him do this.

She understood the power of destiny, even if he did not.

Aurelia marched to the paved pad just as Tex was setting the helicopter’s weight down. Baird erupted from the noisy chariot even before it hit the ground. He ran for Aurelia and she was shocked when he swung her up in his arms and kissed her.

Most thoroughly.

Aurelia almost sagged against him in pleasure before she remembered what she was about. She pushed him away and fixed him with a stern glance.

“What manner of man are you to kiss a woman thus when you mean to propose to another?” she demanded, as angry with herself for responding as with Baird for playing her as a fool.

Baird looked stunned. “What?”

“We must have one thing straight between us, Baird Beauforte,” Aurelia declared in a stern echo of Baird’s earlier denials. “I will not have you toy with me when you mean to marry that Marissa! It will be all or naught between us, no less than that.”

Baird frowned, started to say something, then shook head. “But I’m not going to marry Marissa.”

So, he meant to bed them both and make honorable women of neither of them! Aurelia folded her arms across her chest and glared at Baird. “That is not what she says.”

The helicopter quieted to a low roar as they stared at each other. Baird’s expression turned grim. “What exactly does she say?”

Aurelia was more than pleased to provide details. “That you went to a jeweler to fetch a token of your esteem...

“And what if I did?” Baird murmured and pulled a deep blue box from inside his jacket. A pearly bow perched atop it, looking a little crushed from its transportation.

Aurelia bristled. What kind of man would wave a token intended for Marissa beneath her very nose? Before she could choke out her indignation, Baird offered the box to her.

“It’s for you,” he said quietly. There was a flicker of uncertainty in his green eyes, as though he feared that Aurelia would scorn a gift from him.

Her anger abandoned her with dizzying speed. Suddenly she could think of naught but reassuring Baird. “For me?” She took the box tentatively, all the bluster stolen from her sails with this one gesture.

No one but her father had ever brought Aurelia a gift from afar. “You went a-viking again,” she accused softly as she fingered the bow.

Baird laughed, but uncertainty still lingered in his eyes. “I thought it was the least I could do.”

Their gazes locked and held for a long moment, Aurelia desperately confused by this gesture. Baird’s vulnerability in this touched her heart, just as his decisiveness in other matters of intimacy made her pulse soar.

Aurelia thought of the pleasure they had shared and her mouth went dry.

A smile still toyed with his lips as he stepped closer and fitted his hands to her waist. She was treated to a heady breath of his scent and desire unfurled deep within her. His thumbs moved in eloquent circles against her belly and Aurelia could not have moved away to save her life.

“Open it,” Baird urged, his words a breath against her temple.

Aurelia made short work of the ribbon and opened the box, gasping when she saw its contents. “My mother’s bracelet!” She lifted the silver circle with gentle fingers, incredulous that Baird had fetched this for her.

But why?

“Not exactly,” he admitted. Aurelia glanced up in time to see him grimace. “It’s a reproduction, the best one I could find. They wouldn’t sell me the original.” His eyes twinkled as he took the bracelet and fitted it to her wrist. His lips twisted ruefully. “But, believe me, I tried.”

“I cannot imagine that anyone could resist your charm,” Aurelia teased.

Baird sighed with mock resignation. “As much as I hate to admit it, I didn’t even come close to convincing them.” He traced the central medallion, his warm fingertip brushing against Aurelia’s skin with electrifying gentleness. She caught her breath. “Does this signify something?” he asked.

Aurelia forced herself to concentrate on the bracelet. “It is an eagle, the kind that used to frequent the island. My mother always braided one of their long white tail feathers into her hair as a talisman.”

“Gemma Whitefeather.”

Aurelia nodded. “It was said that her gift for prophecy was like the long vision of the high-flying eagle.” She smiled in recollection. “They used to come to her, though normally they were shy of people. They were magnificent birds, and held in great reverence by Pict and Viking alike.”

“But there aren’t any here now.”

“No.” Memory tightened Aurelia’s throat but she forced herself to share the tale. “On the day that my mother died, a great group of eagles circled the hall, crying aloud. Everyone gathered, for the sound was so mournful that all knew it a sign of ill fortune. I shall never forget the sight of them ascending in a spiral, their white feathers trailing behind. They circled once over the hall before they turned as one and flew out over the sea, never to be seen at Dunhelm again.”

Aurelia looked up to meet Baird’s gaze and found a sympathy there that made her loss seem a little less painful. At least Aurelia had known her parents and their love, while Baird had been alone from his first breath.

“I am sorry,” she said in a rush. “You must think me foolish and sentimental.”

Baird smiled crookedly. “Those would be the last two words I’d connect with you, princess.”

Aurelia did not know whether to take that as a compliment or not. To be certain, Baird had brought her a gift, but it was not this diamond ring that Marissa was certain she would receive. Was this a mere token of friendship, while he brought Marissa a betrothal gift?

After all, this proved Baird had been to a jeweler!

And he had spent the night before in Marissa’s bed. What a fool Aurelia was to let his gift distract her!

“I thank you for the bracelet,” she said formally and stepped away to watch Baird’s expression. She lifted her chin proudly. “I suppose you have another box with a great diamond ring for Marissa, as she anticipates.”

Baird’s dark brows drew together in annoyance. Was he angered with her for knowing his intent? “What are you talking about?”

Aurelia straightened proudly. “Marissa declares that you mean to propose marriage to her upon your return.”

Baird shoved a hand through his hair and muttered a curse. His bright gaze locked with hers, gleaming with a sincerity that swayed her conviction. “Princess, I’m not going to propose anything to Marissa Witlowe.”

Aurelia’s heart skipped a beat but she did not ease her stance. “Then why did you go to Inverness?”

Baird’s voice softened. “Because I had to see whether something was true.” He stepped closer and lifted a hand to Aurelia’s cheek, his voice beguilingly low. Her traitorous heart twisted at his touch. “Princess, I’m sorry I didn’t believe you sooner, but I believe you now...”

He was making her forget herself again! Aurelia danced away, not trusting herself to listen to him any longer and hold to her will. “Spare me your pretty lies! I would know the truth!”

Baird shoved his hands into his pockets. “Aurelia, I’m not lying to you. I know now that you are a twelve hundred year old Pictish princess.” A tentative smile tugged at his lips. “I just wish I’d believed you sooner.”

Again that fear of rejection filtered through his eyes and Aurelia’s heart contracted. She wanted to believe him, but there was one matter that could not be denied.

Aurelia could not keep the hurt from her voice. “Then why did you spend last night in her bed?”

Baird’s lips thinned and voice dropped dangerously low. “She told you that?”

“I heard you go there!”

His eyes flashed with anger. “You heard wrong, princess, and I’m going to prove it to you. I don’t know what kind of crap Marissa is talking but we’re going to get to the bottom of it right now.”

And to Aurelia’s amazement, he laced his fingers between hers and headed for the hall at an uncompromising pace. The very purposefulness of his stride made Aurelia wonder if she had misunderstood matters.

Could Marissa have lied?

Did Aurelia dare to hope?

* * *

Chapter Twenty-Two

Marissa was painting her toenails in the west hall when Baird practically dragged Aurelia back into the hotel.

“Hello, darling! Whatever has taken you so long?” The welcoming smile died on Marissa’s reddened lips when she saw Aurelia right behind Baird.

Her gaze dropped to their entwined fingers and she inhaled sharply.

But Baird had no interest in social niceties. And he wasn’t going to let go of Aurelia’s hand.

“What in the hell have you been saying around here?” he demanded. “Did you tell everyone that we were going to be married?”

“Well...” Marissa had the grace to flush.

Elizabeth hovered on the other side of the hall, her eyes bright with interest and Julian slid through the door to watch.