Until Next Time The Angel Chronicles Book 1 (15 page)

Charles took a step back from her. “I definitely do
not
want to know what that would have entailed.”

Liz mounted the waiting black horse, leaving Angel’s mane perfectly detangled, and reached down for Jason’s hand.

He jumped up on Knight’s back, and shrugged at Charles’ dazed expression. “She’s a strange one. I’ll give you that.”

“Actually, she’s a keeper if you ask me, boy. I, for one, would love to see your looks change. I’m growing tired of looking at you—a change might be nice.”

Jason threw a punch at Charles as he walked by leading his stallion. “You’re not exactly my type either, friend,” he said, urging his horse forward. “Let’s go, Knight.”

Charles turned to Faith and pulled her close. “I love you.”

“You’re the man I admire, Charles,” Faith said quietly. “Now let’s get this over with.”

CHAPTER NINETEEN

There were so many emotions racing through her, Liz’s brain spun in circles. The scenery was familiar—green and healthy as God intended it to be. But the large shadows cast by the towering trees were menacing. Enormous gnarled limbs seemed to reach out, ready to capture them as they rode past. A strange choir of voices seemed to whisper inside Liz’s head issuing a warning.
Be afraid. Be alert. Be careful.

She leaned back against Jason. His unyielding posture and defined muscles spoke a language all their own. He was tight-fisted with the reins; his spine was straight and his eyes never wavered from the path ahead.

She looked over his shoulder at Charles and Faith riding behind them. Charles’ decision to travel back to his past had changed his normally calm appearance. From a distance, he now looked more like a young boy. His head moved from side to side, scanning the path for whatever hidden dangers might suddenly rise up and hurt them. Maybe the trees reminded him of his family; the gnarled limbs representing the evil ones who wanted to slice him until he bled to death.

Liz continued to stare behind her, watching the lovely mare bow her head to the ground. Angel looked as if she didn’t want to see where they were going either, hoping her nervous master would turn around and ride in the other direction.

Unlike the rest of the downtrodden party, Faith wore a determined look. It was as if she’d thought the situation over and had come to the conclusion that whoever was in Dublin—whatever lay at the end of the road—she wanted to face head-on and help her true love bury the ghosts of his past.

Angel suddenly raised her head and began to gallop, attempting to catch up with her partner. Knight whinnied to the mare and the horses slowed down, as lights appeared in the distance.

“We’re back,” Charles muttered as his whisper raced through the ancient graveyard they were passing.

Liz looked down at the broken stones lying haphazardly beside the road. The overgrowth of weeds obscured the names of the saints and the sinners, and a cold chill raced down her spine.

“It’ll be all right,” Jason whispered. He put his hand around her waist. “Promise me, that while we’re here—no matter what happens—you’ll come see something with me. Okay? Promise?”

“I promise.”

Charles groaned and pulled his horse to a stop. “Well…what now? Should we head over to visit with the parents?”

“We could seek an inn for the night and be fresh in the morning.”

Charles smiled at Faith’s helpful suggestion. “He owns the inns too, darling, or at least the servants inside them. It’d only be a matter of minutes before he showed up.”

“At least an inn would be neutral ground. Their home is their territory.”

“Everything is their territory,” Jason whispered.

“As always, my friend is correct. They own it all. So let’s proceed with strong backs and an unbreakable will to the main house, and get this foolishness over with as quickly as possible,” Charles declared.

Soon the edgy quartet rode through the gates of the grand city. The big stone arch declared the name of the city in fancy scrollwork above their heads. It looked like the entrance to the cemetery they’d just passed, except the corpses behind these gates, according to Charles, were still walking around in their Friday evening finery searching for the next person whose life they could destroy.

Soon some of those proud gentlemen, dressed in their fancy frocks, rode up beside them, and stared with wide eyes before quickening their pace and moving on. Strange looks were offered from the people on the streets as they blinked their eyes and stared at Charles astride his white horse. Some of the men bowed cordially to Liz and Faith, while the women on their arms offered looks of open hostility.

Liz saw the overwhelming difference in social class when they approached the wealthier section of the city. The street was lined on both sides with trees wrapped in iron cages; the dogs wore leashes adorned with velvet ribbons; the horses’ manes were braided with gold and silver cord. Ladies protected their heads with pretty bonnets and lacy parasols, while the men buttoned their jackets before setting their tall, elegant hats firmly in place. Cigarettes were wrapped in silver holders; even the smoke seemed to rise in a filigree pattern toward the twilight sky. It was as if they’d crossed into a different world.

Liz studied the fancy surroundings as the final seconds of daylight ticked by. The torches didn’t move; the breeze was still. It was as if even the wind had better manners on this side of town. The dirt path turned to cobblestones in a lovely pattern of rust, gray and copper. Most likely carefully set by someone who’d slaved in the hot sun in order to provide a more comfortable ride for the ornate carriages.

The marketplace grew smaller and the bellowing tradesmen disappeared. Taking their place were brightly colored shop windows offering a peek at lovely silver tea sets and the most beautiful gowns Liz had ever seen.

She glanced down at her scruffy wardrobe, noticing the cold stares being shot at her from the women on the street. She suddenly felt as if she were a slave being sold at auction—studied and disapproved of without ever being spoken to. She also noticed that the cold stares became interested when their eyes fell upon Jason and Charles. The unescorted ladies stopped in their tracks and stared with blatant desire at the handsome men.

Faith gasped. Liz saw the pride leave her friend’s face as she, too, realized that they stuck out like dirty geese among a village of swans.

They slowed down as they came across a long procession of horses and covered coaches winding all the way down the street.

“What’s all this?” Faith asked the coachman directly across from them.

Two figures sat in the darkness of the glass-enclosed carriage, glaring at Faith for daring to address their servant. But Faith laughed aloud when the man in the carriage winked at her over his lady’s well-dressed shoulder.

She turned to Liz. “These lovely Dubliners are a little rude, don’t you think?” Her voice grew louder. “Maybe the ladies could paste a smile on their pinched little faces, and the so-called gentlemen could stop leering long enough to answer a simple question.”

“These aren’t Irish Dubliners,” Jason interrupted. “These are just imports. Trust me, each one you see dressed up like a clown was bought and paid for.”

“Are they Americans?” Liz inquired.

He turned and whispered in her ear, “Some, others are the English who came to trade with us dirty old Irishmen. At least that’s what Charles’ father said they called us.”

Charles laughed beside them. “You see, Liz, the English feel that the Irish don’t have a proper education. We’re only farmers and have a hard time with social graces. Some of the faces you see are people trying to change their ways in order to fit in with the imported snobs.”

Liz placed her hand on Jason’s cheek. “It’s okay. They have people like this everywhere.”

Jason cut in, “We know, Beth, but the minds seem much smaller here.”

“You can say that again,” Charles grumbled. “And I can tell you that we’re on a journey to meet some of the smallest of them all.”

Charles stopped Angel outside the doors of a large saloon. He snorted along with his horse. “The cottage where I was born is right up this road, but I think we should walk the rest of the way. The carriages all seem to be going in that general direction, which means there’s a strong possibility that my father is having yet another of his silly parties in order to declare himself king of the world.”

Faith dismounted behind Charles, as Jason tied up Knight beside Angel. He patted the stallion’s mane, offering him an apple that he’d stolen from one of the orchards just outside of town.

Charles laughed, “Dad’s?”

Jason nodded. “My horse is eating your inheritance. Hope you don’t mind.”

“Mind? If they could digest silver and silk, I would give all I have to Angel. God knows, this horse deserves more than any of these jackasses.”

They walked hand-in-hand—Charles with Faith and Jason with Liz—up the cobblestone sidewalk. Jason hummed along with the Irish ditties that wafted out of the saloon doors as Liz raised her head and looked across the street at a lovely church. “Next to the saloon?” she mumbled. “How perfect for prayer.”

Charles laughed. “A mug in one hand, a Bible in the other. Hmmm…actually, I think the church owns this pub.”

“A church owns the local saloon?”

“Um-hum,” Charles answered. “Makes church much more entertaining if you stop by the pub first. And when the priest stops by on a Sunday morning, the sermon is much funnier.”

Liz laughed aloud, as Jason put his arm around her waist escorting her carefully past the carriages. Her ears burned when she heard Charles’ name being whispered by the strangers milling around them.

Faith’s voice broke the silence, “Are they talking about you, my love?”

“Who knows? It’s kind of early yet, so maybe the drunks can still see straight enough to recognize me. They’re stuck in line all the way down the street. We’re sure to arrive at the house first, ensuring that our return will be an unexpected surprise.”

They walked in silence. Liz kept her head down, staring at the torn slippers peeking out from underneath her worn dress. She wasn’t embarrassed by her appearance though. The dirt lodged in her outfit was like a patch of honor, reminding her of every exciting moment of their journey. And each small tear told a story of the day before. She reached up and ran her hand through her long red hair, pushing the curls away from her face.

Jason lifted her mass of hair over his arm, holding her close as she walked beside him. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered.

Liz smiled at him. She wanted more than anything to let go of the horrid dreams that filled her nights and fall in love with the young man who promised her a life that she longed for.

“We’re here,” Charles groaned. “Yay.”

Liz went into shock as she stared up at the glorious monstrosity of a house. Set back from the road about a hundred feet, a marble staircase rose up from the cobblestone walkway to a large oak door—the equal of which she’d never seen. Candles flickered behind the stained glass windows making the front of the house sparkle. The door was framed by dark red columns and draped around each one were hundreds of flowers. Roses, lilies and dark green ferns were everywhere.

An enormous candlelit chandelier hung above the front door, beaming its golden light into the street. Through the open door, the marble staircase continued inside the house, rising up to a mysterious second floor. Yards of purple and red silk hung from ceiling to carpet, and mammoth works of art covered the walls.

A walkway extended around the roof where well-dressed guests were mingling while sipping champagne. It looked as if a grand flock of birds had gathered to watch the amazing event from above. The women’s gowns had dangerously low necklines adorned with lace and ribbons. Their fake smiles and fluttering eyelashes were aimed at the rich, eligible bachelors in their midst.

Faith tugged on the back of Liz’s hair. “We should’ve changed clothes.”

“Little late now, don’t you think?” Liz grumbled.

“My hair is gross. I have no color…no perfume ” Faith sniffed the air. “God, we smell like
horses
. We aren’t exactly making a good first impression.”

Charles suddenly pulled Faith into his arms, causing shocked stares from the pedestrians. “You couldn’t make a bad impression if you tried. You could be covered in mud with the clothes of an orphan and you would
still
outshine these people from a mile away.”

He released an embarrassed Faith, completely oblivious to the whispers coming from the crowd.

Liz laughed at her friend’s red face. “You have color now…one down.”

“Shut up.”

“But you’re still a little pale,” Jason whispered in Liz’s ear.

Liz’s heart flipped in her chest as she heard the need in his voice. Swaying in his arms as heat flowed through her, she turned toward the staircase. “Let’s get this over with.”

Faith nodded. “We’re better than these people on our worst day.”

“I know,” Liz replied. She took a few deep breaths, trying to calm the fire that was burning out of control inside her soul. She prayed that she wouldn’t pass out like some fragile female as she tried to come to grips with the depth of Jason’s passion.