Dark Hero; A Gothic Romance (Reluctant Heroes) (40 page)

Kieran nodded. “I have fond memories of following her about
the garden, barefoot—she was always barefoot, and so I was, too, as a lad.
She’d tell me about various plants growing around the castle grounds, and quiz
me on their healing properties.”

The afternoon passed with golden sunshine filtered through
vibrant red hues as they sat beneath the canopy, eating pastries and cold ham
and cheese. Kieran told Elizabeth what he remembered of their father.

Finally, Kieran set his plate aside and leaned forward, his
elbows on his knees as he regarded her with somber eyes. “And our mother? His
lordship told me she died three and half years ago. How did she die?”

Elizabeth tucked the shawl tighter about her neck. She
looked her brother in the eyes and told him the same lie she’d been forced to
tell the constable years ago. “It was late, past midnight. I heard a noise on
the stairs. I slipped out of bed to investigate. Papa was out, as always, at
his club. I thought perhaps he’d come home and tripped on the stairs. When I
went to stand at the top of the stairs, I saw Mama lying at the bottom. She was
so still. She was dead, but her eyes were open.”

It hurt—the retelling, and the horrid memory of her mother’s
broken body lying so still at the bottom of the stairs. “She must have slipped
and fallen. Sometimes she was woozy at night, because of the Laudanum she took.
There was blood behind her head. Blood pooling on the floor, soaking into the
floorboards. Her death was ruled an accident.”

Donovan’s arm wrapped about her waist as he leaned close.
Chloe’s hand circled  her shoulder. Elizabeth cursed herself for her cowardice.

“And you found her? How horrifying it must have been for
you.” Kieran remarked.

“Yes, that’s enough excitement for one day. If you will
excuse us, Kieran, I’m taking Lizzie back to our room to rest.” Donovan was
rising already, noting the change in Elizabeth’s demeanor and mistaking it for
weariness instead of mortifying shame.

Weary would do. Yes. She was weary of keeping the secret,
but after so many years, how to tell it? How to speak of it and not incur the
abhorrence of these two men in the telling?

She lied to the authorities. She lied to Michael, and now to
Kieran and Donovan as well.

She covered Fletcher’s foul deed. She protected a murderer,
allowed him to go free.

Was she not just as guilty as he?

Chapter
Thirty Five

The next days were framed in bliss. Elizabeth felt secure in
her role as Madame Beaumont. Donovan’s devotion made it clear she was firmly
entrenched in his heart.

 Donovan made arrangements to meet with his steward each
morning directly following the family breakfast in the newly opened breakfast
room, giving Elizabeth time alone with her brother. She and Kieran strolled the
gardens and discussed their peculiar Druidic heritage.

Elizabeth could not contain her amazement at finding Kieran
was alive, just as she’d imagined as child. When she explained it to him he
said it was the gift of second sight. She was a child and had never known him.
Thus, unlike their grandmother, her vision was not blocked by extreme grief or
the rationalizations adults use to disregard the supernatural. She knew he was
alive yet very far away. As a child she lacked the ability to determine more.
The power to form a metaphysical link with him would come years later, after
Sheila’s death.

Kieran told her how she had summoned him months ago, when
she was in the smuggler hold. He shared his confusion at being pulled from his
body like a fish yanked from the water on a hook, and thrust into hers so he
experienced the horror of her abduction along with her.

That was disturbing. Elizabeth believed he spoke the truth,
but it was beyond her ability to comprehend. “How could I do that? I don’t
remember doing any such thing.”

“You wished me there, just like when you were a child.”
Kieran replied. “This time, you had Sheila’s powers coupled with your own. You
don’t remember because it was instinctual, an act of self preservation during
great distress. I doubt you even thought of doing it, you just did it. It’s
called Soul Travel. There are stories of the ancient ones traveling outside
their bodies, but it’s rare that one of us can summon another to them. You have
extraordinary powers, Elizabeth.”

They walked along in silence, as Elizabeth mulled over his
praise. She wouldn’t call the things she had seen and experienced
extraordinary. She considered them a curse, not a gift.

*******

“Have you had any visits from those behind the veil?” Kieran
asked one day as they walked the cobbled path.

“Yes. There is resident ghost. She’s appeared several times
to me.”

“Maureen O’Donovan.” Kieran nodded. “I’ve met her. There are
others, too. I sense their presence, but they remain as shadows, unwilling to
reveal themselves.”

Elizabeth hid her panic at his words. Their mother?
Apparently, she had not appeared to Kieran. That was a relief. She’d been afraid
to broach the subject. “Yes, I’ve sensed them as well. To be honest, Kieran, I
don’t wish to see them.”

“I know.” Her brother took her hand, a unique gesture of
affection he’d not attempted before this. “I felt the same, growing up. I just
wanted to be normal.” He sighed, and looked quickly about them. “Your man, he’s
always following and watching us.”

Elizabeth turned to where Kieran was looking. Through the
bushes, several feet away stood her bodyguard. “Mr. O’Leary. Donovan assigned
him to watch over me when he is absent. Gus is actually quite charming,
compared to his companion.” She rolled her eyes heavenward as she recalled Mr.
Duchamp. “Donovan’s afraid something bad will happen to me. I’ve tried
reasoning with him but he clings to his irrational worries, so Gus follows me
about all day.”

Kieran made a face. “It’s not irrational. Something horrible
did happen to you. He feels guilty. He believes he should have been able to
prevent it.”

Elizabeth stopped walking. She let go of his hand and sucked
in her lower lip.

It was a rebuke, although much gentler than she deserved.

She’d been so absorbed with her own suffering she’d failed
to see how her abduction affected her husband. Kieran’s simple observation
clarified a great deal regarding her spouse’s behavior. Donovan was so fiercely
protective of her, vigilant about her well being due to her head injury-- and
no wonder, he blamed himself for it.

“Let’s sit here.” Kieran took her elbow and guided her to
the stone bench at the edge of the gardens, overlooking the sea. “I can teach
you a few exercises to keep the spirits from pestering you. It takes practice.
You’ll have to do them every day. Take my hand.”

Elizabeth did as he said. Quietly, so Gus didn’t overhear
them, Kieran guided her through an exercise to establish a barrier against
wandering spirits.

On another morning, he talked to her about ‘walking the Veil
between the Worlds’, the term for visiting the Summerland, the Celtic place of
the dead.

Once more, they sat on the stone bench overlooking the sea.
They had their back to the gardens and appeared to be merely talking as they
looked out at the sea. Taking her hand, Kieran guided her into the Veil. He
chanted a few phrases in Gaelic. When Elizabeth opened her eyes, she was in a
grey place, shrouded by fog. It was cold. She shivered, and wished she had a
cloak to protect her skin from the cool dampness. She could see grey shapes
moving about. She could hear whispers of conversation. Panic rising, she turned
about, searching for Kieran in the eerie grey twilight, searching for someone,
anyone she could recognize. Her heart pounded in her temples. The air, if one
could call it that, was so thick, heavy, cloying. She saw only dark, shadowy
figures moving about in the fog. “Kieran!” She shouted, fearing he abandoned
her.

“I’m here.” He squeezed her hand. She looked down and saw
his hand clutching her own in the gloomy mists. And then the rest of him
appeared. “Don’t be afraid. They won’t hurt you.”

“Is this the Summerland? I thought it was supposed to be
warm and pleasant here.”

“No.” Kieran replied. “This is the Veil between the Worlds.
The spirits who have crossed over come here to try to talk to those they left
behind. We can meet them here.”

“I want to go back.” She said, panicked by the constant
swirling figures brushing past her and the cold, damp misty twilight of their
surroundings. “Take me back, please.”

“Just wait. They’re happy to see you. You are the new seer.
They want to meet you.”

“Who are they?” She wanted to run. She wanted to get back to
Ravencrest, to the sunshine, to the warmth, and to Donovan. She clutched
Kieran’s hand, frightened that if she let go of him, she would be stranded in
this dark place forever.

“These are our people; the O’Flahertys and many other clans
who looked to the Druids for guidance throughout the ages. You are their link
to the physical world. They will not hurt you. As high priestess, you have the
power to call them forth, to use their power and combine it with your own when
the need arises. In ancient times, during battles, Druid priests stood near the
battlefield, chanting and calling forth the power of the ancestors to help
vanquish the enemy.”

As he spoke, faces materialized from the swirling mists.
Elizabeth studied each face as it hovered before her briefly, like courtesans
bowing before her and passing by. Men, women, young and old; Warriors, both men
and the brave women who fought beside them in ages past.

“Elizabeth!” A familiar voice called from a great distance.
Elizabeth gasped, and was suddenly hurtled through a freezing void of sooty,
black mist.

She sank forward, her head in her lap, gasping and choking,
as she let go of Kieran’s hand. The world spun about her, but it was brilliant
world of sunshine and warmth.

“Elizabeth!” Donovan was kneeling in front of her, his face
livid. He looked as if he wanted to kill someone—and that someone was sitting
next to her.

Kieran was gasping as well. He looked like he might choke to
death on his own. He put his arm about her protectively and looked into that
angry visage before them.

“What the hell is this?” Donovan demanded. “What are you
doing to her?”

“It’s fine—“ Elizabeth gasped. The world was spinning
erratically beneath her.

“We—“ Kieran coughed. “I was showing her how to—how
to—meditate—my lord—“

“Like hell you were.” Donovan crouched in front of
Elizabeth. He touched her cheek, and studied her face intently. “Lizzie, are
you all right?” He stroked her arm and then slipped his arm about her shoulder
protectively. He turned his face to Kieran, who was still recovering from their
abrupt retrieval. “She was terrified.”

“I’m just a little dizzy.” In truth, she was relieved by
Donovan’s presence, relieved to be back in the sunshine instead of in the
spiritual catacombs. “He’s teaching me how to control my gift so I am not
overcome by random visions like the one I had with Linton.”

That brought Donovan’s attention back to her. He gazed at
her with sympathy.

“That was most unpleasant.” She reminded him.

“Yes, it was.” Kieran agreed beside her.

Elizabeth turned to her brother. He saw that, too?

This was becoming quite disturbing.

*******

“I’ll ask again, what were you doing to her?” Donovan
insisted hours later, when he’d effectively removed Elizabeth from Kieran’s
presence. “Out with it, man.”

O’Flaherty did not answer. He sat with his lips clamped
tight. They were in Kieran’s room, upstairs. It had taken all of Donovan’s
strength not to throttle him in the garden earlier. The horrified look on his
wife’s face was one he hoped to never see again.

Lizzie was in Donovan’s suite, quite exhausted and pale. She
kept insisting she was fine, but she had that haunted look in her eye that
worried Donovan and made him furious with the man responsible. And she kept
shivering, from fear, he gathered, as she hadn’t a fever.

Donovan paced the room, his fists tight, his fury rising. “I
told you she was frail. I told you she is recovering from a very serious
illness. She’ll claim she’s fine, but people with severe head injuries don’t
realize anything is wrong with them. They don’t feel any different.”

He turned, glared at the man, and stalked closer. “Do you
have any idea what might have happened out there if I hadn’t arrived when I
did? She could have succumbed to another grand mal seizure. She had a brutal one
ten days ago, and then she slept as if she were dead for six hours after. I
thought she would be dead by the end of that day. She cannot be upset or
agitated. I told you—Damn you—I warned you. Now tell me what the hell you were
doing to my wife.”

O’Flaherty wilted in the face of his fury, a small
recompense for the outrage in his heart, and the terror behind that outrage. He
could not lose Elizabeth. He would do anything to protect her, even from her
doltish, wizard of a brother.

The man sat forward in the chair, his arms about himself as
if he suddenly wanted to be anywhere but here. Donovan half expected the man to
disappear into thin air and good riddance.

“I didn’t think of that, my lord.” O’Flaherty murmured. His
face had a fallen cast. “I’m sorry, I forgot about her seizures. I-I didn’t
think. I was just trying to teach her our ways.”

*******

At dinner that evening, Kieran announced he had to leave the
next morning to return to his employer. Barnaby was old and depended on him for
a great many things.

Elizabeth was saddened by his announcement. She was enjoying
his company, for the most part—today’s incident aside. And she’d hoped he’d
stay on indefinitely. She looked to Donovan, hoping he’d raise a polite
objection, but his features remained stony. She looked to Kieran again, hoping
for an explanation, but her brother seemed to find the contents of his plate
fascinating and did not meet her eyes for the rest of the meal.