The Mammoth Book of Irish Romance (5 page)

I love him too much to put him through such a disgrace. You must promise you won’t.”

“As you wish,” Merlin replied. “Since you’re so insistent, I give you my promise that I shal never cast a spel over Richard Beaumont. Does that satisfy you?”

“Yes, it does,” she replied, greatly relieved.

“But you must cal if you need me.”

“I won’t be needing you,” she said. “No magic can help me now.”

“We shal see.” Merlin gave her a nod goodbye. Then, like a puff of dust, he vanished from her sight.

The next morning, when Evleen came down for breakfast, she discovered that Lord Beaumont had left for London at the crack of dawn. He would remain in London for the opening of Parliament and not return until the eve of his wedding, one month hence. Despite her disappointment, Evleen knew his departure was for the best. Having to see him now would be pure torture. She hated the thought of having to witness Beaumont’s wedding to Bettina, but for Peter’s sake, she would.

That afternoon, Peter came to the gazebo alone, without Cromwel . “My dog is sick,” he said, his pale face strained. “He’s awful y sick and I don’t know what to do.”

“Let’s go see him,” said Evleen. Together they walked to the kennel where she found the Border col ie lying limp on the ground, panting heavily. Obviously the dog was in great distress. She suspected it did not have long to live.

Peter sank beside him, tears streaming down his cheeks. “Please don’t die, Cromwel ,” he cried in a voice that nearly broke her heart. He gazed with pleading eyes at Evleen. “Isn’t there something you can do to save him?”

She thought long and hard. Yes, of course there was something she could do, but she had promised never to use her magic again.

But on the other hand . . .

What would Peter do without his faithful friend who fol owed him wherever he went and offered nothing but boundless loyalty and love? The poor little boy had suffered a great loss when his mother died. Now Cromwel , too?

Evleen took the boy’s hand. “Come along, Peter, there’s someone I would like you to meet.” Peter stood next to her in the gazebo. When she rubbed the blue pebble, Merlin appeared before them. “I see you brought the boy,” he said to Evleen.

Peter gazed in wonder. One moment he’d seen a black raven sitting on a tree limb. The next, a bearded old man seemed to have appeared out of nowhere. “Are you the wizard Merlin who advised King Arthur?” he asked in an awed tone.

“Indeed, I am, son,” Merlin answered. “But I have been around long before King Arthur and his court.”

“Evleen says you can help me.” Peter told the magician how much he loved his dog, Cromwel , and would do anything to save him. When he finished, Merlin smiled down at the boy. “Go back to the kennel, son, and see how Cromwel is faring.”

Evleen watched Peter dart eagerly away. “You have my deepest thanks,” she said to Merlin.

“I am happy to oblige, but do you think it wise to break your promise?”

“It’s never wise to break a promise, nor is it wise to al ow a child to suffer needlessly.” Merlin shook his head in sympathy. “You’re a compassionate woman, Evleen, not deserving of the fate that’s been handed you. Why don’t you al ow me to—?”

“No! I broke my promise once, but it’s not likely I shal do it again. As for casting a spel over Lord Beaumont, I absolutely forbid it. I hope you understand.”

“Of course.” The image of Merlin began to fade. “Until we meet again.” The next instant, a black raven spread its wings and silently glided towards the sky.

Evleen heard both a sudden cry and a gasp behind her. Dreading what she would find, she turned. There stood Lydia and Bettina, both staring at her with wide-eyed horror.

With a shaking hand, Bettina pointed to the spot where Merlin had stood. “He . . . he’s gone!

Just disappeared . . . and the raven was there. I don’t know where he went. It was like magic.”

“It was magic.” Both triumph and scorn blazed in Lydia’s eyes as she addressed Evleen.

“You’re a sorceress, just as I suspected al along. Now I have proof of it.” Evleen stood mute. How could she defend herself when, in essence, what Lydia said was true?

Final y she spread her palms wide. “For Peter’s sake, couldn’t you forget what you saw? It wil never happen again, I assure you.”

“Absolutely not! As far I am concerned, you wil never see Peter again. Come, Bettina.” Lydia took her future sister-in-law’s arm. “We must go tel Mama immediately that my brother has al owed a sorceress to live in our home.”

As they left, a joyous Peter came running through the garden, Cromwel bounding along behind him. It was worth it. Evleen knelt to put her arms around her happy young pupil and receive a lick on the face from an ecstatic Cromwel .

Alone in the drawing room with Lady Beaumont, Evleen sat stiff and straight in her chair, expecting the worst. Her ladyship sat across, lips compressed, nose quivering with suppressed rage. “I am appal ed,” she began. “Both Lydia and Bettina saw you engaging in your black magic, or whatever you cal it. Were they wrong? What do you have to say for yourself?”

“Not exactly wrong, your ladyship. But you see, I—”

“I shal not tolerate a sorceress in my home!” Lady Beaumont’s anger had turned into scalding fury. She leaped from her chair and started pacing. “I shal wait for my son’s return. He must make the final decision. Meantime, you are relieved of your governess duties.” Her heart sank. “Not teach Peter? But he’s been making such good progress and I—”

“I don’t want you anywhere near my grandson. To that end, I am moving you to the servants’

floor. You wil no longer be welcome in our dining room. You wil take your meals in your room. I don’t want to lay eyes on you until Richard returns for his wedding, at which time I shal request he throw you out of this house, which you wel deserve.” She pul ed herself up, one quivering mass of indignation. “I never wanted you here in the first place. And don’t expect my son wil side with you.

In this matter he wil do as I say.”

Any further explanation would have been useless. Evleen arose from her chair, determined to maintain her dignity if nothing else. “As you wish, Lady Beaumont.” She left the room, head held high, thankful she’d been able to choke back her tears.

In the days before the return of Lord Beaumont, Evleen spent most of her time in her tiny room on the fourth floor. With its lumpy bed, battered chest and cold, bare floor, the room in no way compared with the luxurious bedchamber she’d been forced to vacate. But in her despair she hardly noticed. She spent her time reading, or trying to. How could she concentrate on a book when thoughts of Beaumont’s passionate kiss constantly crept into her mind, when she was ful of concern about Peter, who she knew must miss her terribly, just as she missed him? Was he keeping up with his lessons? Had they found a new governess? The servants kept their distance.

Not one member of the family talked to her any more, so she had no way of knowing.

As Beaumont’s wedding day approached, the sounds of an increasingly busy household getting ready reached her ears. The wedding itself would take place in the nearby vil age church. The reception, a glittering affair with 200 expected guests, was to be held at Chatfield Court.

One sound made her cringe: Bettina’s giddy laughter often wafted up to the fourth floor, reminding Evleen that the feather-brained young woman would soon become Beaumont’s bride.

Lord Beaumont returned the day before the wedding. In her tiny room, Evleen was miserably wondering if she would even be al owed to speak to him again when a knock sounded on her door. She thought it must be one of the servants, but to her astonishment, Beaumont stood before her. She drew in her breath. “What are you doing here? I’m sure your mother would not approve.”

“I am not concerned with what Mama thinks,” he answered gruffly, shoving his way past her. “I must talk to you.”

He sat on the room’s one rickety wooden chair. She sat on the bed. “There’s nothing more to say,” she said. “I’m sure your mother has informed you of al you need to know.” Amusement flickered in his eyes. “Is it true? Are you indeed a sorceress?” She thought a moment. If she told him the truth, he would doubtless be appal ed, as wel as angry, thinking she’d deceived him. But her forthright nature decreed she could not do otherwise than be completely honest. She looked him in the eye. “I don’t think of myself as a sorceress, but yes, I have certain magic powers. I have only used them once while here in England and wasn’t planning to use them again. But—”

To her surprise, Richard burst into laughter. “You know magic? But that’s priceless!” In amazement she asked, “But aren’t you angry? Aren’t you frightened I might cast some sort of evil spel on you?”

“Would you?”

“No, of course not.”

“Wel , then, I have nothing to worry about.”

She protested, “But your mother is horrified, and very angry. She can hardly wait to get rid of me.”

Beaumont’s laughter died. He gazed around the tiny room and frowned. “You have been treated abominably. I shal see you are moved immediately.”

“Stop,” she said with a raise of her hand. “Your mother is right. It’s best I leave Chatfield Court as soon as possible. Better for both of us.”

A look of anguish crossed his face. “I love you, Evleen. Those days I spent in London made clear to me how empty my life wil be without you.” He stood, pul ed her to her feet and wrapped her in his arms. “You don’t have to find another position,” he whispered in her ear. “I could set you up in London. You would never have to want for anything. You could—”

“I wil not be a kept woman!” She pushed away from him.

“Of course.” He swal owed hard. “I am so sorry, Evleen. I should have known you would never al ow your reputation to be compromised. It’s just . . . I love you so much. The thought of spending the rest of my life without you is an agony.”

“I feel the same, but what can we do?”

“Nothing. Honour binds us both.” Beaumont took up her hand and pressed a gentle kiss to the back of it. “Goodbye, my love, my dearest love. I shal remember you always.” He left then, leaving her to sit in her room and contemplate the lonely years that lay ahead. She knew they’d be lonely because she would never find another man like Richard Beaumont, and she would never settle for less.

The next morning, two piercing screams awoke Evleen from her sleep. They were screams so loud, so terrorizing, she leaped from her bed. Was the house on fire? Had someone been murdered? She flung her robe over her nightgown. Joining the alarmed-looking servants who had also heard the screams, she rushed downstairs to discover bewildered wedding guests, stil in their night clothes, mil ing about, al looking for the source of the curdling shrieks.

When someone said they appeared to have come from the drawing room, Evleen, along with guests and servants, crowded inside, where she saw a strange sight indeed. Bettina’s mother, the renowned Duchess of Derbyshire, lay in a swoon on the sofa, a letter clutched in her hand. A maid held smel ing salts under the Duchess’ nose. Lydia knelt beside her, waving a fan. Lady Beaumont looked on, her face so white and drawn Evleen thought she, too, might swoon at any moment.

“What is going on here?” Lord Beaumont, half dressed in breeches and a white shirt open at the throat, entered the room. “Mama, you don’t look wel . You had better sit down and tel me what’s happening.”

“What’s going on is beyond belief,” Lady Beaumont said in a voice that rose to near hysteria.

She plucked the letter from the Duchess’ fingers and handed it to her son. “It’s a letter from Bettina. Read it.”

With a curious frown Beaumont took the letter and began to read aloud.

Dearest Mama,

It is with deep regret I am cancel ing my wedding to Lord Beaumont. I cannot marry him under any circumstances because I have fal en madly, passionately in love with Algernon Kent. Please don’t fol ow me. By the time you receive this, my dearest Algernon and I wil be wel on our way to Gretna Green, Scotland, to be married.

Know that I deeply regret the sorrow this must cause you, as wel as Lord Beaumont—

Bettina

“Oh, dear God!” Lady Beaumont’s legs buckled. Her son caught her and helped her into a chair.

“There won’t be a wedding?” the distraught woman cried. “I cannot believe this is happening!”

“It would appear that it is,” Beaumont equitably replied. He looked over at the Duchess whose eyelids were fluttering. “I shal go after them, of course. Perhaps it’s not too late.”

“Don’t bother. That ungrateful girl!” The Duchess sat up straight, waving the smel ing salts away.

“The butler told me they left last night. There is no way in the world you could catch them now, nor would I wish you to. Algernon Kent? I cannot believe it!” She exchanged incredulous glances with Lady Beaumont and Lydia. “How could my Bettina fal in love with the most loathsome man in the world? I apologize for my fickle daughter, Lord Beaumont. You must be devastated! Heartbroken!” Evleen watched, secretly amused, as Beaumont placed a properly sombre expression on his face and make a gracious little bow. “Love works in mysterious ways, your grace. I shal do my best to contain my sorrow. Meanwhile, I want you to know that despite Bettina’s shocking defection, I forgive her and wish her al the happiness in the world.” He caught Evleen’s eye from across the room. In the fleeting moment their eyes met, he sent a message that contained a mixture of astonishment, vast relief, and, best of al , his undying love and joy that at last they could be together.

Her heart ful of gratitude, Evleen turned and left. Life was wonderful again! With joyous steps, she climbed the stairs to her room. Richard was not going to marry Bettina. Such a miracle! But how in the world could the sil y girl possibly have fal en in love with the likes of Algernon Kent?