Some Enchanted Dream: A Time Travel Adventure (Seasons of Enchantment Book 2) (11 page)

"I am called Artemisia. I've spent decades trapped in this garden, begging the fey to come set me free. The dark ones came. They did not set me free. Instead they stole something precious and left me here, trapped for all eternity. My legacy is being corrupted. My gift to mankind is being turned into poison. Help me, Tara, please?" An alabaster hand was extended toward Tara. 

Sensing the desperation in the woman before her, and the sorrow, Tara stepped  forward to clasp the pale hand. She wanted to comfort the fairy being who called out to her for assistance. "How can I help you?"

"By stopping the evil that lurks in the dark places of the earth. By stopping them."

"Who are they?" A chill passed over Tara's heart. Part of her didn't want to know the answer. Part of her knew the answer and didn't wish to face it.

"Tara . . . "
Riley's voice came from behind her.  "
This place is not as serene as it seems . . . go now, away with you, back to the land of men." 

A hand touched her cheek, stroking it with a light touch. She opened her eyes to find Adrian standing beside the bed, gazing down at her with a wistful smile. He was dressed in his new suit, ready to begin the day. "Darlin', our breakfast has arrived."

He was divinely handsome in his fine new suit and embroidered vest. He looked like a respectable businessman instead of a Shakespearean actor portraying a rake from the previous century. Maybe it was necessary for him to look the part of a gentleman if it were his mission to go to the bank and pretend to be his own great-grandson. 

She rose, washed her face in the cold water on the basin in the corner, and rinsed the sourness from her mouth. Adrian handed her his old blue velvet frock coat in lieu of a robe and led her by the hand into the outer room.

"Good mornin', fair sister." Mick's mystical eyes swept over her with welcome. "Have a seat. We've brought you sustenance, as promised."

The scent of hot coffee teased her as she drew near. A small pot was steaming as Riley took it from the stove. He set the metal coffee pot that did not belong to them on the table. Cooked oatmeal and glass bottle of milk were set out, and a plate of pastries with little chunks of butter on the side. Mick lifted a cover from another serving dish, revealing scrambled eggs.

Tara wasted little time on pleasantries as she ladled her plate with eggs. She quickly snatched a French pastry before the men devoured them.

Adrian sat beside her and helped himself.

"Aren't you going to eat?" she asked the brothers as they watched her. "And where is Dan? Surely he'll be as hungry as an ox."

"Sleeping," Adrian answered for her, and poked the spoon he'd been using to stir milk into his coffee toward the second bedroom. "He came in at dawn."

"We ate on the streets," Mick replied, giving Riley a significant look.

"And where did you come by this wonderful feast?" Tara wanted the names of the various cafes so she would remember to take the serving dishes back. They seemed to be accumulating a wild array of mismatched pots and serving platters. Did these men not realize that the items should be returned to the cafe's were they had been taken?

Riley poured himself a small measure of milk into a cup. "Here and there."

Tara went cold. She noted that the brothers also acquired new clothing to match the current time period. "You didn't steal them?"

Riley expelled his breath in a rush, clearly insulted by her question. He brought the milk to his lips, took a sip and fairly purred like a cat.

"People just gave them to us," Mick put in with a shrug. His arms crossed over his fine vest of blue silk with gold embroidery as he rested his butt on the garish green cupboard behind him. The vest made his eyes, which were already startling, seem to glow even more in his pale, lovely face. His attractiveness was overwhelming. Tara knew he could charm some poor woman into surrendering her family's breakfast to him. His gift was glamoury, after all.

"Why?" Tara didn't follow his meaning. "Do you mean to tell me someone just gave you a pot of oatmeal, a dish of eggs, pastries and a pot freshly brewed coffee?"

"Aye, they did," Mick's voice sang out in that lyrical timbre. "And to answer the why, they gave it to us because we asked them for aid. It is the fairy way. Have you never, in your life, been given something by a human simply because you voiced the need for it?"

She shook her head, and then blinked, trying to chase the blurriness from her eyes. She wasn't in the mood to think about her past life, or rather her life in the future. It had been terribly lonely. From what he implied, it should have been the opposite, she should have lived in a fancy home and had scads of people giving her things because she was Fey born. She should've had the
Life of Riley
.

At that thought, the coffee she just sipped came spewing out of her mouth to douse her eggs with brown liquid. She couldn't contain her laugh as she looked at Riley, her brother. Where did that saying come from?
Where indeed?

"I am pleased that we are all together this morning. I wanted to speak to each of you about our situation." Adrian had finished his breakfast, and was ready to become Lord Dillon again.

Riley tossed Tara a cloth so she could sop up the coffee from her eggs, and Mick became serious, ready to listen to his captain's orders. Mick had been a member of Adrian's militia, and was his second in command in Ireland during their skirmishes with British soldiers. Albeit, her brother had taken the form of an old man then to play the part.

"I've torn a page from your book, sweetheart." Adrian's hand covered hers for a moment. The warmth of his skin was inviting. "I hope you do not mind."

She thought he was speaking poetically until she saw the blank sheet of ivory paper he withdrew from his pocket and unfolded to display writing.
Oh, sure, just rip a blank page from Arthur Conan Doyle's first print edition of his first novel! No worries, it's value in the future as an antique was now compromised.
  Tara shot him a dark look.

"I'll purchase paper today. I was up last night and needed something with which to compose a list." A pencil was produced, a crude stick of graphite that had been sharpened by a knife. "We need to acquire a few things for our stay here. First, clothing for Tara. However, I must caution you, we have limited funds. What other items do we need?"

Tara glanced about the small kitchen corner of the room. She took a refreshing sip of coffee and savored the richness as it rolled over her tongue. Coffee was essential to life. She'd been dismayed to learn it wasn't a regular drink in eighteenth century Ireland. Everyone drank tea. There had been a coffee shop in Cork, but she couldn't just go there unescorted, as Adrian had made clear it was scandalous for a lady to go jaunting about alone.

Last night's roasting pot next to Mick's hip caught her eye. "That should have been put on ice." She pointed to it.

Mick lifted the cover and looked inside.

"It's spoiled now," she continued, "after sitting at room temperature all night. We need a fridge--I mean--icebox. We need to purchase an icebox to keep leftover food from spoiling. And we will need it to preserve the milk and cream."

"We'll take care of it." Mick and Riley said as one.

"What is an ice box?" Adrian looked perplexed.

"It is exactly what it sounds like." Tara smiled at him, amused by his confusion. It was a little fun to see the tables turned, as she'd appeared the idiot more times than she could count when living in his time. "A metal box that holds a block of ice, and is used to keep perishable food cold."

He nodded, and wrote down the item.

Tara's head was clearing thanks to the magic brew called coffee. She glanced sharply at Mick as a thought hit her. "When you say you'll obtain one, you don't mean you'll just take it from some poor, unsuspecting human, do you? I couldn't live with that. People work hard for their wages and just taking things from them isn't right."

"We do not
take
, sweet sister. We simply make our needs known." Mick replied in that golden tone. "If I walk into a cafe and say, 'I need an icebox, can you direct me as to where to find one', someone will likely have the item and offer it to me as a gift."

"
Really
?" Tara asked with exasperation. "They just give you their stuff, and you go on your way? What do they get in return, after you've taken their children's breakfast or their husband's clothes?"

"Pure joy," Mick returned with a superior smile. "A sudden feeling of bliss, and then good fortune comes to them for helping a Fey-born."

Dan could be heard growling from the small interior bedroom.

Tara rose and moved to the cabinet Mick was using as a makeshift shelf for his ass. She shooed him aside and started taking inventory of their kitchen supplies for Adrian's list of necessities, as she doubted her Fey brothers and Lord Dillon would have a clue about such mundane concerns.

The men continued to talk as she opened the drawers and searched for basic cooking and serving implements. Dan entered the room. She could tell by his heavy tread without having to look behind her.  The creaking noise as he strained the empty chair at the table with his considerable bulk made her turn about with a clean set of tin dishes for him.

He grunted as a means of hello, and fell into the remains of breakfast. His meaty hand lifted the cover on a serving dish. "Scrambled eggs and no bacon?"

"We didn't think of that. Next time, my friend, you will have bacon." Riley moved away from the stove as Tara checked the coal bin beside it.

"Has anyone bought coal since we've been here?" She turned to the men. They all gave her a blank stare, with the exception of Dan. "We're low."

"The coal bin was full when we arrived," Dan commented. "With it being spring, we're lucky it lasted nearly two weeks."

"Coal," Adrian remarked, adding it to his list. He looked at Tara, and she gave him a few more items to write down.

"It's Sunday. I've missed you both. I'm yearning for a family outing," Dan groused. "We've been spread out all week, off doing our own thing. We should spend the day together."

"What would you suggest?" Adrian asked with more patience then Tara expected. He'd seemed irritated by Dan's presence of late. In response to Adrian's ill humor, Dan made himself scarce. Adrian poured himself a second cup of coffee and then filled Dan's tin cup. "Milk?"

Dan shook his head. "Thanks, but no."

Something changed between them. Tara wasn't sure what it was, but Adrian was showing more kindness and consideration toward her adopted papa then he had for many weeks.

"We'll be off to gather some those items you mentioned," Mick addressed the room. "The three of you go enjoy this lovely Sunday as a family."

Tara stared at her eldest brother, her mouth agape.
Really, they were off to just enchant people and take their goods?
"Why don't you allow Adrian to give you funds?"

"We'll be just fine." Riley patted her shoulder from behind. She turned to look at him and met those eyes, those emerald eyes . . .
Tara, awaken
.

Tara, awaken. The words would not leave her alone. She dreamt of them at night. They haunted her during the day if left to herself, alone in the apartment with nothing to occupy her attention.
Awaken to what
?

The gentle smile Riley bestowed upon her made her shiver. It was as if he could read her thoughts. She moved to the window and looked out on the golden morning. The door to the hall closed, leaving her alone with Adrian and Dan.

A cannon fired in the distance, as it did every day at noon from the Eiffel tower. At first the sound had worried her, but as one week stretched into two, it became a familiar sound heralding mid-day and reminding all of Paris that the delights of the exhibition beneath the tower awaited them. She loved this view of the city of Paris. They were four stories high on the hill on which Montmartre sat. It was like an eagle's perch. Her eyes always were drawn to that prominent needle pointing up into the clouds. The brilliant
red
Eiffel Tower. Again, she wondered if there were some significant change in history because of her time travel? Surely not. The movies and novels of her time always made a big deal about the travelers messing up future events just by stumbling through time. She doubted her previous time jump to Ireland and saving one man from certain death had changed the course of the future.

Still, the red tower bothered her. Tara never recalled it being red before in photographs or television news reports. It was always black.

"Darlin'," Adrian called out, pulling her gaze from the tower in the distance. "You have a visitor."

Gisele had arrived. Tara tugged Adrian's coat tighter about her bosom as she turned to her new friend. She hadn't heard the knock at the door.

"Pardon, I thought I was the late riser." Gisele's infectious laughter brightened the room. "Are you well, Mrs. Dillon?" Gisele cocked her head a little as she studied Adrian's old frockcoat that Tara used as a makeshift bathrobe.

"I'm quite well," Tara replied. Dan was studying Gisele as if he'd just met a deity. Indeed, if Tara had noted the peculiar resemblance in mannerisms in the beautiful brunette to the iconic Marilyn Monroe, than certainly Dan would, too. "We were going on an outing for the afternoon. Would you like to join us?"

"
Yes, please
." Dan's rough voice was heard in an undertone.

"Where are you headed, M'sieur Dillon?"

"The Paris Exposition." Adrian said. "Mr. Wilson has already purchased tickets."

"And I have six of them, enough to cover you if you wish to accompany us."

"Oh, how lovely!" Gisele clapped her gloves together with glee. "M'sieur Wilson, may I reimburse you for my fare, I've been there twice since it opened."

"No, you may not," Dan replied with a saucy look. "My treat. I won the till at cards last night, and I won the tickets off an old bloke who couldn't pay out his losses."

Tara couldn't fathom his luck. "How were you able to play cards, you don't speak French?"