In Search of the Past (Stacey and Shane Mcleod, #2) (30 page)

“Isn’t that Richard Heath?” Miles asked. “After Father died, you and he were rather involved, as I recall.”

“Yes, at one time, we were good friends,” Molly said. “then I met Donald.” Molly was quiet for a few minutes, then said, “I wonder what’s going on with him, he seems terribly enchanted with that young woman.  She looks young enough to be his granddaughter. You men and your obsessions with younger women.”

“Miles turned to look again. The people at the table next to Richard’s were leaving. The young women at Richards table came into clear view. It was her. The young woman from the taxi. He could hardly believe his eyes. He was only partly listening to his mother. Miles interrupted his mother and asked, “Do you know the young women at Richard’s table?”

Molly looked again and said, “No, I don’t. Do you?”

“Not really,” he said. “I believe one of them, the younger one with long auburn hair is Doctor McLeod’s fiancée. He showed me a photograph of her once.”

“Doctor McLeod?  Isn’t he that brilliant young protégé of Donald’s?” Molly asked. “I thought he and Miranda were involved.”

Once again Miles is only half listening. He kept glancing in the direction of their table. As Annie and Stacey were leaving the tearoom, Stacey glanced around.  She had that eerie feeling you get when someone is watching you. She saw a man looking right at her. She turned away, then she remembered. She turned back, smiled and waved her fingers at him. He smiled and nodded his head at her, as she and Annie left the tearoom. Molly gave her son an inquiring look, and asked, “Since when do photographs wave back?”

As his stepfather came toward their table to join them, Miles said, “Not now, Mother. I’ll tell you later.”

Shane didn’t get home until seven thirty. Stacey had supper ready. She wanted to tell Shane about Sir Richard, but he was very tired and worried about a patient. After supper while Stacey tidied up, Shane sat with his feet propped on a hassock.  Stacey came in and removed his shoes and socks.  With soft strong hands she massaged his feet with soothing lotion. When she was finished, she said, “Come sir, you need a bed.”

“I’m sorry,” Shane said,

“Stop apologizing. There’s more to our marriage than sex.”  Stacey helped him undress and get in bed.  She kissed him and told him to rest. By the time she was finished in the bathroom, he was sound asleep.  Stacey sat in the big arm chair with her feet tucked under her and watched him sleep for the longest time. The next morning, Stacey was up and in the kitchen before the alarm sounded. Shane had been too tired to eat much last night, so she had a good breakfast ready and waiting for him.  While Shane ate, Stacey told him about running into Sir Richard Heath and about his invitation.

“Let me see how it goes, sweetheart.”

When shame came home, Stacey had supper ready with dessert. “You’re spoiling me,” he said.

“Enjoy it while you can. When school starts I won’t have time for this.”

After supper, Shane carried her upstairs and said as he kissed her, “I hope you’ll have time for this.” 

“We’ll make time,” Stacey said. “Always.”

Their lives were back on track and their love was as strong as ever. They made an appointment to visit Sir Richard on Thursday night. He invited them for dinner at his London town house.  They were having a glass of champagne when Sir Richard asked, “Would you like to see my gallery of ancestors?”

“Yes, of course.” Stacey answered, immediately.

The gallery was upstairs. There were paintings of family all the way up the stairs and into the gallery. The gallery was a large room with many portraits and paintings. When Stacey saw the portrait of Rodric Hampton, she wasn’t surprised. Shane could tell by the look on Stacey’s face, that she recognized him. Sir Richard, watched Stacey closely as she turned to him and asked, “What was Rodric to you, Sir?”

Sir Richard walked them over to a portrait of a lovely lady of the fifteenth century. “I have  been told this lovely lady was Rodric’s Hampton’s granddaughter.”

“Not so,” Stacey said. Sir Richard looked at her oddly. Stacey touched his arm and said, “She’s Katherine, Rodric’s great-granddaughter. She was the first red head in his family.  She was age five when I... I mean the old countess passed over. How are these people related to you?” Stacey inquired.

This lovely lady, you say her name is Katherine, married a Spencer. I’m from the female line of that family,” Sir Richard explained.

Thoughtfully, Stacey said, “Rodric married Callie Spencer, but it was believed that male line died out. I think Sir Giles had older brothers, but I...the countess never met them.”

“How are your memories connected to Rodric’s Family?” Sir Richard asked, puzzled.

Stacey looked at Shane, and he nodded his head. “He was my husband’s half brother,” Stacey told him.

Sir Richard looked at Shane a bit bewildered and asked, “Who was your husband my dear?” 

“The seventh earl of Dun-Raven, Eric Fitz-Morgan,” Stacey said watching his face blanch. Stacey reached out to him, she was afraid he was going to pass out.

Sir Richard quickly went to a chair and sat down, visibly shaken. Shane attended him, taking his pulse. “How do you know all this?” Sir Richard asked Stacey.

“I told you sir, I had a dream.”

Shane concerned about this older man said, “Sir Richard, due to this incredulous news perhaps we should take a rain check on dinner.” Stacey was still standing looking at the portrait with a smile on her face. “I see this has come as quite a shock to you, as well as Stacey and me.”

“Yes, yes it has, but I want to show your wife another portrait I have. Richard took them to another portrait of a mature woman of the fifteen century. Stacey stood and looked at the portrait, finally in a voice from another area, she said,
“This lovely lady  is my great granddaughter
, Sarah Wentworth.
 
“

Shane was shocked by the sound of the words that came from Stacey’s mouth. He and Sir Richard looked at one another and Shane said, “Sir Richard, I think we need to take this slowly, a little at a time, I know you have many unanswered questions, but your health must take priority.”

“I understand, doctor, but I want to show Stacey my family journals. I have many questions.”

As if nothing unusual had happened, Stacey said, “Yes, Sir Richard, I’ll be happy to see them, but they’ll have to wait until June. I’ll bring you mine, I think you’ll find them interesting too,”

As Stacey and Shane started down the stairs, Sir Richard said, from the landing, “It’s a date. I’ll be waiting to hear from you,”  Then he asked, “Doctor McLeod, how are you involved in all this?” 

“I was her doctor while she dreamed. Goodnight sir.”

Shane and Stacey stopped at a restaurant for supper. Stacey was looking out the window deep in thought. “Where are you right now?” Shane asked.

“I was thinking of Sir Richard,” Stacey said. “Shane, while I’m gone, will you make it a point to visit him. I think he’s lonely and possibly confused about strange memories?” 

“Of course, I will sweetheart,” Shane said. He was reluctant to ask, but he wanted to know why her voice and speech accent changed when she saw the portrait. “Who was that young woman in the portrait, sweetheart and how is it that you know her?”

“I don’t know how I know her, I just do. She was the old countess’s great-granddaughter, Sarah Wentworth. She was married to Simon Wentworth of Kent.” Stacey rubbed her forehead and said, “Sarah was a granddaughter of Jacquelyn and Colin Ashworth. I wonder how the portrait became part of Sir Richard’s collection. I will make sure to ask him when we come back after the wedding. This may sound odd, but it seems each time we solve one mystery another one appears.”

Shane watched Stacey as they ate. He had not realized what a burden these memories must be or how totally confusing they were.  It had been eight months now and not once had she let them come between them. He knew the anger he felt in Scotland was his fault, not hers. He knew when they married that she was searching for answers. He also knew that Stacey loved him and he was her priority. Shane knew Stacey well by now. He knew her to be a healthy, well-adjusted, competent young woman. He had seen her succumb to the pressure of this phenomena only once. That was last weekend, in Scotland.

Shane hadn’t realized until now, what a demanding endeavor she’d taken on by investigating this dream. Not once had she let it take over her life. What an extraordinary strong willed young woman she is. He felt lucky and gratefully to have her in his life: Stacey was so quiet tonight. Shane wanted desperately to take her home and hold her in his arms. This night she seemed fragile somehow, so Shane held her in his arms and they talked long into the night about her dream, their mutual ancestor and the mystery they so desperately wanted to solve without it interfering with their lives.

Friday morning it was raining hard. Stacey had Shane’s breakfast ready when he came downstairs. He took her in his arms, kissed her and asked, “Who’s going to make my breakfast when you’re gone?”

Stacey patted his stomach and said, “Oh, you and the box of Cheerios will do just fine.” 

“What about my other needs?” Shane said with that special smile of his. “File them away my love, we’ll take care of them one by one after June seventh,” Stacey said as she gave him a hug.

Shane put his bottom lip in a pout. Stacey laughed. “I can see now what your son is gonna’ look like.”

Shane was so glad to have his Stacey back. He knew this ancestor search was important to her and now, subsequently they were his ancestors as well. Shane knew eventually, Stacey would want to read Sir Richard journals and investigate his ancestors. Shane knew he would help her all he could, however, he was not enthusiastic about drudging up the past. He hated to admit it, but he was jealous of her memories of the long dead earl, Eric Fitz-Morgan. He tried not to think about him, but when he did, he hoped all those memories would go the bloody hell back to where they belonged. Deep in the past.

The Pub

T
he rain had stopped, but the fog rolled in that afternoon.  Shane and Stacey were to meet Hugh, Annie, Nigel, Megan, Iain and Rachel at a pub across town to celebrate Shane’s, thirty-fourth birthday.  Stacey hadn’t seen the fog this thick since being lost on Maxwell house road. 

“How are we gonna’ get there?” Stacey asked.

“We’ll take a cab,” Shane said. “They can feel their way there, a mere fog can’t stop a London cab driver.”

Shane was right, in no time at all they were at the pub. Stacey told the driver, “Sir, you have my admiration. You must be part bat or you have sonar in your head.”

“Well thank ye miss,” the driver said. “I’ve been a cabbie all me life. I know these streets like the back of me hand.”

“Here’s to the birthday boy,” Hugh said as they walked into the pub. “We had a wager you wouldn’t make it.” 

“Who lost?” Stacey asked.

Annie laughed and Stacey knew it was Hugh. “Oh ye, of little faith,” Stacey said, as she walked over to him and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

“Well my girl, getting your man out of the clutches of a sadistic ambassador is one thing, however, maneuvering London streets in full fog is another,” Hugh said.

“Who maneuvered,” Stacey said. “we took a cab.”

“Are you buying, since you lost?” Shane asked, chortling.

“I’ve got to find new friends, no doubt about it,” Hugh said, as he threw up his hands in surrender. Everyone wished Shane a happy birthday, then they sat and talked for a while. All of a sudden, Shane remembered and said, “Oh, by the way, Stacey, I’ve been meaning to ask you. How did you know who that ambassador was?

“My dad’s cousin is the manager of one of the fancy hotels in Las Vegas. That certain person is there a lot. He’s notorious, you might say with women, wine and gambling. Of course, the hotel is discreet because he’s the ambassador to France from a very wealthy middle eastern oil country. I told you Shane, I started eavesdropping on our stairs when I was young, you learn a lot of things, people would never tell you otherwise.

Everyone was having such a good time, when Megan said, “Oh, Stacey, we loved your video.” 

“What video?”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Megan said. “I thought you knew.” 

“Tell me and I will.” 

“This isn’t Shane’s fault,” Megan said, quickly.

“Okay, what video?” Stacey asked again.

“The one of you singing,” Megan said.

Stacey looked at Shane bewildered. “Eric sent me a video of you singing at the club.”

“Why?” Stacey asked.

“He thought I would enjoy watching it, and I do.”

“Listen,” Megan said. “Shane didn’t show it to us. We stopped by one night with the kids. I guess it was in the VCR, my son turned it on and was watching it.  When Shane and Nigel came out of his office, we asked if that was you? You’re a very good singer.”

“Thank you,” Stacey said.

“I’m sorry if you’re upset sweetheart.”

“No, I’m not upset,” Stacey said. “I’m not ashamed of what I do, I’m just surprised Eric sent you a tape.”

“Were you worried it was a tape of something... more intimate?” Hugh asked. 

Annie slapped his arm and said, “Behave yourself.”

“No, we haven’t got around to those yet. Do you have some we might take a look at for pointers?” Stacey asked Hugh. 

Everyone was laughing and the awkward moment had passed. Hugh shook his finger at Stacey and said, “You’re a cheeky miss, I must remember that.”

A five piece jazz band came in at nine p.m. Shane loves jazz music, so he and Stacey danced the night away.  Megan watched Stacey and Shane dancing, then turned to Annie and said, “Stacey is such a pretty girl, does she have any idea how gorgeous she is?

Rachael piped in and said, “How could she not know, she has a mirror.”

Annie was tired of Rachael’s resentment of Stacey and said, “Yes, of course, she has many mirrors, however, she doesn’t see herself that way.” 

As they watched them on the dance floor, Megan said, “I can’t help but see the difference Stacey has made in Shane’s life. He has always been quiet and reserved. I remember when Barbara use to push dates off on him.”