Heroes Live Forever (Knights in Time) (32 page)

After a cursory glance at the more elaborate sword Alex said, "You're right, take this one. The prince could be very flamboyant at court. But in battle, he was a serious warrior. He used a sword with a simple unadorned pommel, the cross-guards straight and plain."

Alex leaned back in the chair and appeared to choose his words carefully as he described the Black Prince. "Edward had one of the finest military minds England has ever known."

“Without a doubt. Please, go on.”

"There's a time when a leader must follow his own counsel, or follow his advisors. He was wise enough to know the difference. On the battlefield he was a brave, and in general, an honorable man. Although, I'm sure exceptions could be found to his chivalrous nature.”

"Like Limoges," she added.

"Like Limoges. War brings out the best and worst in men, sometimes the same man. In my opinion, a knight couldn’t serve under a finer leader. The speech he made to his soldiers on the field of Poitiers was better than any playwright's fiction."

Miranda listened, engrossed, struck by the intensity of Alex's description and how personal his knowledge sounded. Only one other person made the images and personalities of the time so colorful and three dimensional, Ian. When he discussed Crecy, and specifically Poitiers, the battles came to life. She heard the thud of a morning star landing against a shield or the whoosh of a sword as it cut the air. With a little imagination, she could picture the field of dying horses and men, the ground blood soaked and reddish black. How unique for two modern men to have such a strong attachment to a long ago time.

"You speak as though you really knew him." Miranda wondered at the cause of the enigmatic, almost sad emotion that briefly entered his eyes.

"This period in history is of particular interest to me. Perhaps I identify with some of the personages too much and it affects my opinions. Did you want to continue with swords or shall we go on to other weapons?" He didn't wait for her response and advanced the page.

They spent their time leafing through page after page of arms and armor. Alex impressed her more and more as they went through each section. He grew especially enthusiastic when they came to the examples of warhorses and their decorative bridles.

A clear picture of Alex on a strong stallion came to Miranda. Distinct enough for her to remark, "I can visualize you on a great destrier, a huge grey Percheron maybe."

"Can you? How uncanny. I happen to have a grey Percheron and several black ones too."

Ian had quietly entered the room. Only when Alex acknowledged him with the barest of nods did she become aware of Ian’s presence.

Excited with the results of their search, Miranda gave Ian a dazzling smile. “Hi.”

“You two appear to be getting along rather well. Can I hope the research also went well in my absence?”

“Ian, you won’t believe how much we’ve gotten done. Alex has been an enormous help. He’s a fountain of information.”

She expected him to be pleased. Instead, he looked disappointed, although she couldn’t swear to it, but he seemed a little hurt. Neither made sense to her.

"Great," he said, with a weak smile.

The sentiment sounded stiff and added to her confusion.

"I have a couple of things I need to talk to him about. Afterward we can go over what you've found."

"Belle dame, it has been my pleasure." Alex stood, kissed her hand, and they both left.

Miranda rested her chin in her palm curious as to what was bothering Ian when Kiki came flying into the office. "Okay, out with it. What's your secret, perfume, witchcraft? Confess!"

"What are you talking about?"

"Don't play dumb. I'm talking about the fact you have the attention of two of the hottest men in London, and we want to know your secret."

“If you're referring to the man who just left, that's Alex Lancaster and he's a friend of Ian's. He passed the time with me while he waited for Ian. Don't make it into something it's not. And, who is 'we' exactly?"

"Every female in the building, that's who. Or didn't you notice the parade of women who strolled by your office?" Kiki fluttered her hand and prattled on, "I take back the question. If I had that hunk sitting next to me I wouldn't notice anything either. Since we’re on the subject of “his gorgeousness,” how's it going with Ian?"

"It's going fine. We're not dating if that's what you want to know. I told you I wouldn't go out with him while we worked together." Miranda swiveled back to her computer. Maybe Kiki would get the hint and leave.

She and Ian were already fodder for the office gossips. This was exactly what Miranda deplored but she had no one to blame but herself. She’d let him kiss her in front of everyone that first day. At the time, she hadn’t dreamt she’d wind up working for him. Let the rumor mills grind away. Her relationship with Ian wasn't open for discussion.

Kiki didn't take the hint and refused to be put off. "Why are you so opposed to dating him while you're his assistant? Seriously, do you expect a man like Ian to wait around?"

Miranda had to answer Kiki or she’d never leave the subject alone. "No, I don't expect him to hang around, I hope he will, but I don't expect it. It's just--well, I like him. I like him so much I can't see straight sometimes. But if we were to date and he wound up dumping me, I'd still have to work with him. I'd be shattered. I couldn't do it, Kiki. I couldn't have my heart broken, then work with him every day and pretend I was all right. Don't you see?"

"No, I don't. I don’t understand why you assume he's going to dump you." Kiki’s flighty manner evaporated and she turned serious. "It's you who doesn't see. You're so afraid, you're blind to the truth. He's crazy about you. I can see it. We all can see it, everyone but you. The way he looks at you. God, I'd give up chocolate for a year to have a man like him look at me that way."

"I know he likes me. Sometimes I think he likes me as much as you think. The thought of that frightens me as much as it excites me." She checked herself. She hadn't meant to reveal so much to Kiki, to anybody.

"Hmmm, sounds as though you more than like him," Kiki bent close. "Take a chance Miranda, Columbus did."

"Yeah right, easy for you to say."

"I'm available for a double date with you and Ian, if you'd care to let Alex know." Kiki winked and left.

Miranda sat mulling over her friend's suggestion, then dismissed it. How could she get Kiki to understand what she didn't understand herself?

How could she explain about her visions? Visions that came unbidden, flashes and images of Ian as a knight, or in a castle courtyard with a mysterious woman. After his visit to her house, she could add graphically erotic dreams to the list. Over the past week working closely together, the images had come with increased frequency, grown more vivid, more intense. There was a woman in many. A woman whose face she never saw. Some of those imaginings were so sensual she could almost feel the heat where their skin touched, hear the carnal words, the woman’s words, his words. A premonition of him leaving sometimes accompanied a vision. The pain of the loss so tangible it invariably tempered her fantasies.

No, she couldn't tell Kiki or anyone. They'd think her mad, and rightfully so. Hell, even she was beginning to doubt her sanity. Ian's to blame for this disturbing problem, she thought in a huff. After all, she'd never experienced fantasies like this before he came into her life. Therefore, he should shoulder some of the responsibility for her deteriorating mental state.

Ian removed his jacket and slumped into his chair, while Alex freshened his drink. Tension mingled with impatience and colored his tone as he brooded over Miranda's warm reaction to Alex.

"I strain and fight everyday to see some sign of recognition in her eyes. Every morning I endeavor to find the key to unlock her memory. Can you tell me how it is she remembers you? How she has this feeling of having met you and not have it with me?"

"No. I've no idea." Alex candidly replied. "I could venture a guess, but that's all it is, just a guess."

"I'm open to any and all theories, go ahead."

Alex hesitated and took a deep breath, "Perhaps it's because I never hurt her."

"What do you mean?" Taken aback, Ian fought the impulse to become defensive.

After taking a long, slow sip of his scotch Alex explained, "Well, I think it's like the lyric from
The Way We Were
, what's too painful to remember, we choose to forget."

The lyric meant nothing to him. Ian wasn’t certain he’d ever heard the song.

"I should have known," Alex mumbled to himself. "You know the song
The Way We Were
?”

Ian shook his head.

“Barbra Streisand’s big hit," Alex added as a hint. Several seconds passed as he waited in vain for Ian to confirm he knew the song or at least nod in affirmation. Nothing.

"Do you ever listen to music, other than when you're riding in an elevator?"

"Yes, I listen to music. I'll have you know I've a very fine collection of CD's."

"By fine collection do you mean the odd six or seven left at your flat by various females?"

Indignant, Ian said, "Yes."

"So tell me Mr. MTV. What are the names of the CD's, or perhaps you can name the artists?"

Ian absently rolled a Pelikan fountain pen over his knuckles back and forth. His favorite pen, the one he found closest to writing with a quill. He kept a watchful eye on the instrument, never lending it.

"You know I'm not musical."
"Not musical? Compared to you, Attila the Hun was a song and dance man."

Alex brought the glass to his lips and put it back down without touching the tawny liquid. "Ian, I've no idea how to help you with your predicament. I wish I did. I don't understand why you feel this urgent need to have her remember to begin with. Why can't you forget it and just court her? Take her to dinner, buy her flowers, go dancing, win her heart that way."

Ian sat pensive and considered his answer. He’d asked himself that exact question several times. It always came back to the same thing. "Elinor loved me when all I had was my word and my honor. A man can be penniless and still be wealthy, if he is true to his word, and can keep his honor in a world of deceivers. I broke my word. I failed her. If Miranda recalls you, then there must be a way for her to remember Basil and our love. Perhaps some deep-seated part of her will know I kept my final promise."

Alex’s crooked mocking smile said it all, half,
you're
having me on
and half
you crazy bugger
. Either way, Ian got the drift Alex didn't buy the explanation. "Out with it. I've seen that look before. What's on your mind?"

"I know honor is and always has been important to you. You've always been a man of your word. But, I think in this situation you're like a dog chasing his tail. Frankly, I suspect this has more to do with ego than you care to admit. You've done a bang up job putting a rosy spin on it, but to what end? Pride goeth before the fall, be careful my friend."

Alex finished his drink. "I’m going to get on my way. I have a date. I'll see you ..." he slid the message slip from his pocket and peeked at the name, "and Carla tomorrow for drinks."

"Do try and remember her name tomorrow, will you."

"Not a problem, I'll just call her sweetling,” Alex said, checking his tie as he stood. “The ladies love it. They say it sounds romantic and old world."

"You love this modern time, don't you?"

"Victoria's Secret, birth control, liberated women, it's brilliant."

They shared a laugh, lightening the mood.

Alex turned serious. "Ian, God knows you've been around a long time. You'll think of some way to reach her. Give it time. If she never remembers, so what, maybe it's not such a bad thing."