Waking Elizabeth (23 page)

“Ellie,
we won’t be able to fight this anymore,” he whispered breathlessly, his lips
brushing against mine.
 

“I
don’t want to,” I answered softly in return.

I
closed my eyes languidly, my head pressed against his chest as I listened to
his heartbeat as it slowed to a steady pace.
 
I had never felt so completely tranquil in my entire life.
 
Never felt so spiritually linked with another
person as I did with this man.
 
He traced
my fingers as they rested on his chest and it sent shivers down my back.
 

“Are
you cold?” he asked me, his hands running up and down my bare arm.

“I’m
perfect, perfectly … perfect,” I whispered.

Ronan
chuckled, “Good.
 
Better now?”
 

“Recovered,
I guess you could say, from my recent … starvation.”

“Starvation?”
he chided, “I could have provided that nourishment long before now had I only
known.”

I
looked up at him, “I could not have given you any more signs than what I
did.
 
I practically begged you to come in
here tonight.”

“I
was trying to be the polite gentlemen my mother raised me to be,” he grinned at
me.

I
shielded my face, “Don’t make me feel guilty.”

“I
wouldn’t have been able to hold out much longer.
 
I was barely able to leave you the second
time.”

“Why
did you?” I rose up and rested my chin on his chest to look him in the eye.

He
shrugged, “I wanted it to be your idea.
 
I already felt like I’d overwhelmed you and then I brought you here,
alone, no one else around … I just didn’t want you to think it was my intention
for this to happen.”

“So
… for once I was not the one over-thinking everything?”

He
smiled, tracing my lips with this finger, “No.
 
Which you politely reminded me in a most effective manner.”

I
blushed.

“Don’t
start that now.
 
I’ve seen you, Ms.
Regan, in all your glorious authority.
 
You
will never be able to hide behind that blush again.”

His
smile disarmed me and made me grin, “Maybe you’ve calmed her … restlessness,” I
ran my fingers through the course hair of his chest, “boy do the history books
have it wrong.
 
Virgin Queen,” I rolled
my eyes, the notion practically laughable.
 
I don’t know exactly the precise moment it had happened but I fully
believed everything I was feeling and seeing now was because she was a part of
me.
 
Somehow, someway, she was
there.
 
All of her memories and feelings
erupting inside of me like a volcano.
 
It
was almost impossible to shut it out.
 

“She
was a fair but resilient woman.
 
She took
what she wanted when she wanted it.
 
The
persona she so carefully created lives on and for that, she’d be happy.
 
But those of us who really know her are not
at all surprised by the truth.”

I
was caught off guard by his words.
 
Those that really know her.
 
Was I one of those people now?
 
A few months ago I would have been able to
tell you that she was queen, that she had red hair and her father enjoyed
having his wives killed and that would have been it.
 
But now … everything was different.
 
Her joys and her sorrows were now completely
embedded with mine.
 
I hardly knew where
she ended and I began.
 
It felt both
liberating and frighteningly disturbing.
 
I curled into Ronan’s chest for comfort and instantly received it.

“You’re
over thinking it,” he whispered, kissing my head, “Should I make you think of
something else?”

Just
hearing him murmur the words caused my body to instantly respond, “Definitely.”

Chapter
24

A
thin ray of
sunlight spread across the floor beneath the heavy velvet curtains on the far
side of the room.
 
Daylight.
  
Morning.
 
Oh God!
 
His parents!
 
I sat up with a gasp, “What time is it?”

Ronan
was roused from sleep by the panicked sound of my voice and reached for the
phone, “It’s only ten.”

I
fell back into the pillows, “Oh thank God.
 
If your parents were to come and find us up here like this … that would
be pretty damn horrible.”

Ronan
chuckled and pulled me to him, “We are adults, Ellie.”

“But
this is their house.”

“It’s
my house too.”

“This
is not how I want to meet your parents for the first time.”

Ronan
groaned, “Agreed.
 
I’m not too keen on my
mother seeing me naked at 35,” he stretched like a cat beside me.

I
had never thought to ask his age before, but I assumed he was mid
thirties.
 
“So, we have two hours to get
ourselves together before they get here?”

“Two
hours is plenty of time, don’t you think?”

“I’m
a thirty minute girl.
 
Shower, makeup and
hair in less than thirty minutes.”

“Impressive,”
he wound his legs around mine under the covers.

I
curled into him, never able to get enough, “I think I could stay here in this
bed all day with you.”

“That
might rouse suspicion from the family,” he laughed, “but it does sound
nice.”
 
He tossed the covers back,
exposing both of us to the chill of the room.
 
“Come on, let’s get ready and then go down and have some breakfast.
 
I think that’s the one meal I can attempt
without total and complete ruin.”

By
the time Ronan’s parents arrived I was past the point of normal
nervousness.
 
I felt somewhat honored
that I was the first woman he had ever brought home to meet his parents but in
a way it made it all the more nerve racking.
 
The pressure was high.
 
He of
course laughed off my anxiousness and said I was over thinking.
 
I was getting sick and tired of that
phrase.
 
I had always been a
worrier.
 
If I could turn it off, I
would.
 
Ronan heard the car coming down
the driveway and pulled me with him to the foyer for their entrance.
 
My heart was racing.
 
When Ronan opened the front door for them and
they came inside, it was like I was witnessing a photo shoot from a Town and
Country article.
 
His mother was petit
and beautiful with perfect flowing gray hair.
 
She swept a large brimmed hat off of her head and tossed it on a hook by
the door.
 
She was wearing all white
linen with a bright blue tank underneath for a pop of color that matched her
perfectly hued shoes.
 
She greeted her
son with a warm smile and hugged him fiercely.
 
His father was tall and broad shouldered and looked very much like Ronan
with graying hair.
 
He firmly shook his
son’s hands as he hung a sports coat on the hook next to his wife’s hat.
 

“Ellie,
these are my parents, Roger and Abbie Sutton.”

His
father walked towards me and shook my hand, “Wonderful to meet you Ellie.”
 
His father I could handle, and in truth, it
was much easier meeting fathers, they were less judgmental and a sincere smile
could usually put them at ease.
 
Mothers,
not so much.
 
I smiled and said hello and
waited as Abbie Sutton came around her husband’s tall form to greet me.
 
She looked me in the eye, her gray eyes never
breaking contact to look me up and down or make any attempt to access anything
regarding my appearance.
 

“Hello
Ellie Regan,” she said my full name with a gentle smile that told me that she
knew a little more about me then her husband did, “Welcome to our home.
 
I’m very happy you’re here.”

She
meant it.
 
I could feel it in her soulful
eyes that her son had inherited from her and when she reached to embrace me in
a warm hug it was set in stone.
 
I hugged
her back, feeling a warm protective feeling that felt as familiar as if I’d
been hugging my own mother.
 
I looked at
Ronan as he gazed at the two of us in our embrace, his bright eyes gleamed with
gratification.
 

“Come
and sit and tell us about your adventures!” she said, entwining her arm with
mine and leading me towards the living room.
 

I
recounted our arrival in London and how Jess was busy at meetings which left me
free to tour around alone.
 
I mentioned
how I was specifically looking for information on Queen Elizabeth but did not
elaborate as to why.
 

“Well,
you went to the right place.
 
Ronan is
somewhat of an expert in that field,” his father said proudly.

“And
you said he wasn’t there when you first arrived?
 
How did you two finally meet?” his mother
pushed, sensing there was more to the story.

“I
went in search of her,” Ronan answered to my relief.

His
mother looked surprised, “Really?”

“Yes,”
he nodded, “They said a beautiful red-headed American was there asking about
Queen Elizabeth I.
 
It certainly got my
attention.”

I
laughed, “I was still at the Tower at an exhibit of the armor when he found
me.
 
He walked right up and said hello.”

Ronan
brushed the hair from my shoulder as I spoke, an intimate gesture that didn’t
go unnoticed by his mother, “It’s not every day that a woman has the kind of
questions that she did about my favorite person from history.”

“Indeed,
I should think not,” his mother smiled.

“And
you are a dancer back home?” his father asked as he stood to refill his wine.

“Yes,
I teach kids ballet at home in Virginia.”

“And
you’re here on business, with your friend?” he asked as he took his seat beside
his wife.

“No,
Roger.
 
Her friend Jess is here on
business.
 
She just decided to come
along,” Abbie corrected him.

“So,
Ronan, you have to return to work on Monday?” Abbie asked her son.

“Yes,
I have a big meeting on Tuesday to prepare for.”

“Too
bad we didn’t have enough time to get your sister here with her family for
lunch tomorrow.
 
They stay so busy over
there,” Abbie remarked.

“The
kids stay busy, the parents just rush them around,” Ronan answered.

“Well,”
Abbie remarked, “That leaves more time for Ellie and I to get to know one
another.”

We
had a leisurely lunch on the veranda as I listened to Ronan’s parents embarrass
him with stores of his childhood.
 

“He
was terribly stubborn as a child, at one point insisting on sleeping with the horses.”

I
laughed, “In the barn?”

“Yes,
in the barn!” his father answered, “He even made a bed in the hay.”

I
laughed and looked over at Ronan who was turning red in embarrassment.
 

“He
went through some odd phases in his childhood, to be sure, do you remember when
he insisted on being called Robert?”
 
His
father asked Abbie.

Abbie
raised her hand and waived it through the air, “It was just a phase when he was
a boy.”

I
looked at him and noticed that he seemed uncomfortable, “You didn’t like your
name?”

“I
did … I just …” he stammered for a reply.

“I
think he had seen a movie and he had the idea that he wanted to change his
name.
 
Thankfully he grew out of it,” his
mother smiled.

“I’m
glad.
 
I love your name.
 
It’s different.”

“Ronan
is a family name, it’s Celtic and means ‘oath’.”

“Oath,”
I murmured in return and felt that it fit him perfectly.

Just
then Ronan’s cell phone rang.
 
He quickly
looked at the number and then politely excused himself from our group.
 
Minutes ticked by and I watched, trying hard
not to appear nosey, as Ronan paced under the shade of a tree, his phone still
pressed against his ear.
 
It didn’t take
a rocket scientist to figure out that whatever conversation he was having was
anything but light and friendly.
 
I
wondered if it was something about work.
 
When we were all making our way inside with his father ushering his
mother and I ahead, I was glad my sunglasses hid my roaming eyes as I looked
his way again.
 
He looked agitated,
running his hand through his unruly hair before resting it on his hip.
 
As we approached the door I was as close to
him as I could possibly get without walking away from his parents towards
him.
 
I’m
not doing it on purpose!
 
I’ll do it
soon, I’ve already told you!
 
His
words caused me to almost stumble through the threshold.
 
I had never heard him use that tone
before.
 
The hairs stood up on the back
of my neck.
 
I could sense his anger.
 
I was thoroughly uncomfortable and smiled
awkwardly at his father as he held the door open for me.
 

“I’m
sure he’ll be in soon.
 
Probably work
issues,” his dad smiled at me, attempting to put me at ease.
 
I was positive that he had heard the same
exchange I had.
 

“His
job is fascinating.
 
He seems really
happy there,” I took off my glasses as we entered the glass atrium.

“Yes.
 
He has always been fond of history.
 
I guess he comes by it naturally, growing up
here and having a mother and father such as he does.”

I
followed their lead and took a seat on a wicker sofa, “I’m lucky in that
way.
 
I love my job.
 
I’ve danced my entire life and when I found
out that I could earn a living by teaching others, it was a no brainer for me.”

“How
long are you here?” his mother asked.

“Our
trip is two weeks.
 
So, another 7 days,”
I mentally calculated and then felt a stab of sadness at my dwindling
time.
 

His
mother, of course, missed nothing and immediately sensed my dismay, “There are
ballet schools here, you know.”

I
blushed and offered her a smile, nodding shyly.
 
I guess that was a good thing?
 
At
least she wasn’t trying to run me off.
 
My attention was drawn to the door when Ronan came in.
 
His smile was gone, his face drawn and grim,
his cheekbones flexing as he clenched his teeth.
 
He took a seat by me and attempted to offer
me a smile.
 
It didn’t work.
 
I could feel the tension oozing off him.
 
I was going to politely ignore what was
obvious to everyone in the room but as it turned out, Ronan was not going to be
that lucky.
 

“Everything
okay, son?” his father asked.

Ronan
nodded, “Work.
 
I can’t get away without
something falling apart.”

I
sighed in relief.
 
Work.
 
At least it was work.
 
I reached for his hand and squeezed it in
reassurance.
 
He squeezed back, his
fingers lacing through mine and putting me at ease.

His
mother said nothing as she narrowed her eyes at him.
 
Her look gave me pause.
 
She didn’t believe him.
 
I could see it in her eyes.
 
A woman knows.
 
Maybe she knew something that I didn’t.
 

“Do
you have to return early?” his father asked.

“No,
we are here for another day.
 
We’ll leave
on Sunday, as scheduled.”

We
sat and made pleasant small talk about my life back in the states and my
parents but I couldn’t
 
stop thinking
about the look that Ronan’s mother gave him earlier.
 
I would ask him about it when we were
upstairs and alone and he was in a slightly better mood.