Black Rose (11 page)

“Actually,
she was named Duchess of Argyll and Marquesa of Kintyre. She still may have
turned down the request, if a few castles had not been attached to the title.
Mara has always had a soft spot for the Scottish coast.”

“Look,”
Jonathan said. “Did something happen? She seems a little…”

“Nothing
for you to concern yourself with,” Brendan replied. “Just have all queries
brought to me for the next few days.”

Jonathan
paused for a moment as though in consideration. “How can I do my job
effectively if I am unaware of what is going on?”

“Leave
it alone, Jon.” He shook his head. “This is not something you want to become
involved with—trust me.”

Jonathan
gave a nod before turning to leave the room with an air of frustration with
which Brendan was all too familiar. Mara had spilled a great deal of blood over
the years in order to protect both her charges and the men who served her, but
never more than for the protection of the one man she never should have been
required to protect. Brendan had entered the guard a few years after the
Princess had died. In the centuries between his joining of the Queen’s Guard
and taking the vow of the Black Rose, he had never seen Edward act in a
leadership role. It had been Mara who had placed herself again and again
between the ravings of the Queen and men who strove to serve her. Mara, whose
blood had stained the walls of the palace chambers as she substituted herself
in the placement of her men.

Brendan
had never understood Mara’s endless devotion to the Captain. Yet, neither had
he been surprised when Mara had fled the castle in the middle of a stormy night
to rush to the side of a man whose name she had refused to so much as speak for
the last six hundred years. Phillip had once attempted to explain the
relationship. “They are two halves of the same soul,” Phillip had said.
“Without an ounce of light between them.”

“But
why?” he had asked. “Why would she keep going back to that? What is it about
Edward? He’s not—”

“It
wasn’t always so.” Phillip reminded him again that he was younger than the
others. “When the Queen sent him away, he was gone for twenty-five years. On
the ten-year anniversary of his disappearance, I attempted to force the reality
upon Mara that he would never return. I tried again ten years later, but she
refused to believe it. She was right of course, but there was no reason to believe
it. It was beyond stubbornness. Yet, to this day, I can’t help but wonder if it
was not something more…if their souls are not truly intertwined.”

Brendan
sighed as the memory receded. He had spent half a millennium watching Mara
punish herself for events that occurred long ago. He stood silently as she
locked herself away from the world, attempting in vain to forget the horrors of
those dark nights. Yet, on those rare occasions when she did emerge, it was
always to Edward that her infrequent questions would eventually turn. In recent
years she would occasionally turn on the news during the royal press
conferences, her eyes searching for the man who was always pictured on the
camera’s edge, just to the right of the Queen. 

Brendan
gave a heavy sigh and then called for the twins, Aiden and Brian. When they
arrived, they gave a brief bow. Brendan cleared his throat. “I have two
assignments for Guardship. I know that it has been a few years since either of
you have left the grounds, so I thought you might want an assignment.”

“We
would be happy to take it,” Aiden replied.

“Sure,”
Brian said, echoing his brother’s sentiment.

“Good,
then I am sending you both to Washington, D.C.” He handed them Mara’s signed
Order of Guardship. “You will report to Agent Barstow upon your arrival and
then report for secret service detail.”

“Secret
service?” Aiden inquired. “You mean…for the President?” Brendan nodded. 
“Seriously? Awesome!”

Brendan
drew a deep breath. “I would refrain from allowing Captain Mara to hear you say
so. Do we need a lesson on proper etiquette before I send you off to guard the
President
of the United States?”

The
brothers turned to each other and exchanged a glance. “No, Captain,” they said
in an eerie unison that only twins seem to possess.

Brendan
dismissed them with a wave. It would be good to get the younger members away
from the grounds for a few days. Mara was never in a good mood after an
encounter with Edward, and their youthful antics would be sure to keep her
there even longer. He returned to his chair and began the daunting task of
working through the daily e-mails when Jonathan knocked on the door.

“Forgive
the disturbance,” he said to the Sub-Captain. “But Lord Garreth, Sub-Captain of
the Ciar Court Guard, is requesting an audience.”

Garreth
slid his chair to the opposite side of the desk and placed his hand on the
black phone. “Put him through.”

“No,
Captain. He is here.”

“Here?”

“Yes,
my Lord. He awaits you in the foyer.”

           
The night was quiet in the upper level of the Black Rose castle. On the large,
four-post bed, Mara lay in a deep slumber. Her body moved from left to right,
stirred in its sleep by unquiet dreams. It was always like this, seeing Edward.
Ever since she was nineteen and the Queen had sent him away for all those
years.

           
It had been a rare and beautiful day when Edward had surprised Mara with a
knock on her door. “Would you care to join me for lunch?”

           
“I’d love to,” she replied. He led her from the underground palace and into the
sunshine above.

“I
thought we might partake in the garden.”

Mara
followed him around the royal grounds until they reached the royal rose
garden.  Among a sea of purples and red, Edward led Mara to a large
blanket. Moments later, servants arrived with an assortment of meats, cheeses
and wine. Mara had sipped slowly on the dark red liquid, savoring the taste
only half as much as the company. They spoke about a play that Mara had seen
several weeks before, and a book of poetry which she had recently come to
adore. “It’s a new tale about a mythical King of Britain, who rules through
valor, honor and chivalry,” Mara told him, reaching a hand forward to caress
the side of his face. “I felt like I was reading a story about you.” She
offered a smile.

For
a moment, Edward retuned that smile, then he stood from the blanket. He
motioned to the servants who collected the remains of their meal and then
quickly fled the scene, leaving Edward and Mara alone in the large garden. He
then offered her his hand, slowly pulling her to her feet. “Take a walk with
me, my Lady?”

She
smiled and stepped forward when he tightened his grip on her hand. She met his
gaze as he began to walk her down the path, the sweet aroma of roses perfuming
the air. Edward did not speak as they walked, but instead led her forward
silently, only the occasional bird disrupting the tranquility surrounding them.
When they reached the edge of a small stream, the water was so clear that she
could see the violet of her eyes reflected in its gentle current. It was here,
on the edge of the water, that Edward finally paused. Mara turned to face him
and saw confusion in his dark eyes. “Edward?”

He
reached his hand forward, caressing her cheek. Her words ceased as his eyes
seemed to search hers. “Edward,” she said, more softly than before.

It
was then, in that moment, that Edward leaned forward and kissed her for the
very first time. 

The
wind blew across the garden, rustling through the leaves and swaying the roses
back and forth in its cool breath. Edward pulled back slowly from the kiss. The
smile on Mara’s face was enough to break his heart. “I’m leaving.”

Mara’s
smile faded as though in slow motion. “What?”

“I
came to tell you that I am leaving.”

“What?”

“I
am leaving,” he said a third time. “The Queen has ordered me to the East.”

The
ground seemed to shift under Mara’s feet. She took a step forward, but
stumbled.  Edward placed his hand upon her left arm to steady her. Her
heart pounded in her chest. “You brought me here…” she searched for the words,
“to leave me?”

Edward’s
hand tightened on Mara’s arm, his fingers digging deeply into her flesh. His
gaze fell to the ground as he said, “I came to…”

“To
what?” she snapped, her voice more cross than she had intended. “To make sure
you what…leave my heart in pieces?”

“To
tell you that I don’t want to go,” he spoke softly, unable to face her. “That I
don’t want…hurting you is the last thing I would ever want to do; the very last
thing.”

“I
don’t understand,” Mara replied. “You are her Captain, the leader of her personal
bodyguard. Why in the world is she sending you away? It doesn’t make sense.
That doesn’t fit your job description, unless…is the Queen going East?”

“No.”
Edward shook his head, finally raising his eyes to meet Mara’s gaze. “And I
can’t tell you why I am going or where and,” he inhaled sharply, “I cannot tell
you when I shall return.”

Her
voice was aflame. “Well, then, what the hell can you tell me?”

“That
I have no choice and that I would stay…if I could.”

“And
the kiss?” she asked. “What was that?  Some sort of…” she searched for the
word, “pity? Guilt? A half-hearted goodbye to make yourself feel better? What
the hell was that?”

“A
plea!” An unfamiliar strain filtered through his words.

“What?”

“A
plea,” he said again, shaking his head as his gaze returned to the green grass
of the garden floor. “I am asking, pleading, for you, knowing that you owe me
no debt nor do I have any right to expect you to say yes. Yet, I ask it of you
anyway…”

“Ask
what, Edward? What could you possibly—” Her voice tightened in her throat,
diminishing to a deep, rasping sound. She swallowed hard. “What would you have
of me, my Lord?”

“Don’t,”
he said. “Don’t do that.  I’m not…” He drew a deep breath. “I do not ask
this as your Lord or Captain. I ask it only as a…as a man.”

“Ask
what?”

“Wait
for me.” He spoke slowly, as though the words were held somewhere deep inside
him and had to be dragged carefully to the surface. “I know that this is
unfair, telling you this way and…and I have no right to ask. I know that. But,
I am asking anyway. Wait for me, Mara.  Wait for me and I will pledge to
you my devotion, my heart and my honor.” His hand dropped from Mara’s arm as he
bowed his head. “I know that you deserve more. But, it is all I have. All that
I am; and I offer to it to you.”

Edward
continued to hide his face, staring towards the ground, unable to face the
woman for whose heart he pleaded. Mara’s thoughts trailed to a world without
him. It was unbearable, unthinkable. Edward was her strength, her savior, her
love. She couldn’t breathe. 

Edward
leaned forward and pressed his cheek against her left shoulder. His entire body
sagged against her. “I’m sorry,” he said. “Gods, Mara… Forgive me. ignosce
mihi, mea rosa, mi amor. Forgive me.” His body shuddered against hers and she
suddenly realized with a bitter chill he was afraid.

“Edward,”
she whispered, attempting desperately to gather herself as best she could. “I
don’t know where your path will lead or what task you have been charged, but,”
she drew a deep breath, struggling to keep the anguish from her voice, “you are
the strongest man I have ever known.  You will fulfill this quest.” 

A
tremor ran through Edward’s body. “Mara…Mara…”

“I
will wait for you, mi amor. No matter how long it takes. I swear it to the
Gods.”

Edward
slowly raised his gaze to meet hers.

“I
love you, Edward. All I ask is a single promise in return.”

He
stared at her in silence for several moments, fully meeting the weight of her
violet gaze. “Name it,” he said in a tone so forceful that it drew Mara’s own
tears to the burning surface of her eyes. 

“Come
back,” she said simply, her heart breaking with each word. “Please come back
for me.”

He
gave a single nod, never removing his gaze from the woman standing before him.
“promitto. rosa mea immortalis. I will always come for you, Mara. Always.”

She
stepped forward slowly and then pressed her lips against his. He wrapped his
arms around her. She pressed her cheek against his broad chest, as the first of
her tears fell from her violet eyes.

           
Garreth was standing in the large entryway. “What did I tell you?” he said to
Nolan who stood beside him, gazing up at the vaulted ceiling. “You just thought
the Ciar Court was bleak.” Nolan did not answer, but instead gazed around the
vast chamber, seemingly mesmerized by the spiral staircases and the large, red
curtains which draped the grey walls, blowing from the cold mountain winds.
“Still,” Garreth continued, “there is a certain level of power to it.”

           
“Sub-Captain Garreth.” Brendan emerged from a pair of large wooden doors on the
left side of the chamber.