Читать книгу The Celtic Knot - Shannon MacLeod - Страница 12

6

Beth didn’t wait for the phone call the following morning. She showed up bright and early on Lily’s doorstep. The girls took their coffee to the bedroom and Beth sprawled across the bed while Lily dressed for work. “So start at the very beginning,” she ordered, taking a long sip.

“I swear upon my life I will tell you everything tonight,” Lily said, rifling through the dresses in the small walk in closet.

“Bottom line…are you going out with him again?” Beth asked.

“I hope so. He asked if I would, and I said yes.” Like a runaway black rocket Bella streaked in and made straight for the folding mirrored doors. With a push of her paw she closed the closet door, plunging Lily into darkness. “Not funny, Bella.”

Pushing the door open automatically turned the lights back on, but as soon as she returned her attention to picking out a dress, Bella closed her in again.

“She knows you’re going to see Losers…I mean Lucas.” Beth struggled to maintain a somber tone. “So…have you and Ian picked out names for your kids…uh…made plans for your next date yet?”

Lily nudged the closet door open again, fixing Bella with a stern warning glare. “He may not even call me again. Guys have been known to do that, you know, tell you they’ll call and then don’t.”

Beth snorted in a most unladylike fashion. “Oh, please. He’s going to call, and you’re going to go. Better start thinking about how you’re going to break the harsh reality to Lucas, and even more important, what you’re going to wear. I know it’s going to happen. Ees a gypsy thing, you wouldn’t understand,” she intoned in her best Rom accent. As Lily recovered from the subsequent fit of laughter, Beth studied her friend with a keen eye, cradling her mug in her hands. “You liked him,” she said.

Lily blushed under her scrutiny. “He’s very nice and thoughtful, and really funny. Yes, I liked him. Bella likes him too.”

“So what does he kiss like?” Beth asked with feigned casualness.

Lily batted her eyelashes coyly. “I wouldn’t know,” she said.

Beth rolled her eyes and stood. “Not the answer I was looking for,” she said, glancing up at the clock. “You’re sooo going to be late.” Lily yelped and both girls made a run for the door. “I mean it, all the details later!” Beth yelled after her.

Without missing a beat, Beth pulled out behind Lily and headed straight for the Castle for a little detective work. “Meg? Are you here?” she called out, walking into the main office.

“Be right there,” Meghan Wilde answered in her lilting voice from one of the rear offices. She walked in moments later carrying a pile of folders and upon seeing her visitor broke into a big grin. “Beth darlin’, come in. There’s fresh coffee if you’d like and some pastries too, I think, unless Dan ate them all already. Help yourself and I’ll just be a minute.”

Beth poured herself a cup of coffee and sat down on the couch to wait. Meg placed the folders on Dan’s already cluttered desk in three distinct piles then turned to face her. “What brings you here so bright and early?” she asked.

“I got some questions for you,” Beth said, her tone serious.

Meg frowned. “Well, hopefully I got some answers for you. What’s on your mind?”

Beth got right to the point. “I want to ask you about one of the actors. His name is Ian Kelly.”

“Watch yourself…that Irish devil can charm the knickers off a nun,” she warned. “He bolted out of here yesterday going on about meeting someone later. I got the distinct impression it was a date, although he didn’t come out and say as much.” She hesitated, her green eyes momentarily unfocused. “It wasn’t with you, though,” she said slowly.

Beth gave a start at her perceptiveness. “No…with my best friend. I was just wondering what you had on him so I can decide how best to kill him if he hurts her,” she deadpanned.

Meg burst into convulsive laughter which lasted for several long moments. Wiping away the tears on her cheeks she said, “You do know he’s my little brother, right?”

“Well, I do now.” Beth fell silent and there was a long, awkward pause as she deliberated on whether or not she still had a job. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean–”

“That’s all right, dear, I seriously doubt you’re the first woman to threaten to kill him.” Meg giggled and Beth relaxed, the tension easing. “Your friend doesn’t know you’re here,” Meg said, more a statement of fact than a question. She refilled her coffee and after retrieving the plate of sweet rolls, took a seat on the couch. “Ian is one of the good guys most days. We’d love to see him settle down with a good woman, but she’ll have her hands full for sure.” She took a long sip of her coffee and continued. “Let’s see, he doesn’t smoke, doesn’t do drugs, loves kids and animals. He’s moody as all hell sometimes, and he’ll eat you out of house and home if you let him. Stop me when you’ve heard enough.”

Beth laughed. “I’ll bet he’s got a string–” She stopped, reconsidered the source, and started again. “He just seems like the type of have lots of girlfriends. My friend was pretty swept off her feet by him.”

“Well, he’s not an angel by any stretch, but he’s behaved himself since he moved here,” Meg said. “Couple of dates here and there, nothing serious. He can be charming when he sets his mind to it, I’ll give him that.”

Beth helped herself to a cinnamon roll. “So he works here as an actor full time?” she said in between bites.

Meg smiled. “He wears lots of different hats here. The park guests love him. He’s so authentic-looking in costume. I think it’s all that pretty hair myself. It drives our mother to distraction,” she said, taking a roll for herself as she glanced out the front window. “He’s been focused on his work. You know he does all the mural designs for…damn it all to hell!” Meg shot to her feet and flung open the front door with a bang. “Renaud, get your feckin’ horse off my street before he leaves something you’ll get dirty shoveling up!” she shouted.

The dashing blond musketeer jumped the graceful animal over a low cart and rode straight to the front door. “Bonjour, Madame Wilde,” he said, sweeping the plumed hat from his head in a grand gesture. “Would either your esteemed husband or brother be about?”

“Good morning yourself, and they’re both out golfing, as you would be too if you had answered your phone this morning,” Meg answered with a sweet smile.

“I was otherwise engaged,” Renaud said, grinning wolfishly. “Please offer them my humble apologies, but in truth they’ll benefit from the practice before playing me again. I’ll catch up with them later. Au revoir.” Waving, he and the horse turned and shot down the street toward the stables with a clatter of horseshoes on the cobblestones.

“Cheeky Frenchman.” Laughing, Meg closed the door. “Sorry for the interruption,” she said. “Now, where were we?”

“You had just said your mom doesn’t approve of Ian’s hair,” Beth giggled. “Do your parents live here?”

“Lord, no. You’ll never get Ma off the island. Our dad passed two years ago. There’s five of us kids altogether, but Ian and I are the only ones here in the States. Any more questions?”

Beth nodded sagely. “Just one more–what’s wrong with him?”

Meg gave a hearty laugh. “I’d say his worst fault is a healthy dose of the Kelly temper–just like the storms here. Fierce, but doesn’t last too long. Ma always said it was the wild Celt blood.”

Beth glanced at the clock and smiled as she stood to leave. “Thanks, Meg. I appreciate the info. I’ll be back later to set the tent up.”

“Oh, there’s something,” Meg said, snapping her fingers. “Here’s a secret for you, and were you to come straight out and ask him I can promise you he’ll lie his arse off about it. Those pretty cards of yours–I’ve heard you’re very good with them, but I’ll wager he reads them as well as you.”

Beth plopped down on the couch, eyes wide and mouth agape. “No. Way.”

Meg grinned. “It’s true. Our grandmother, rest her soul, was a real honest to goodness witch, a cailleach in the Irish. She used to read the cards, do herb cures and whatnot for the people of the wee village she lived in, not too far from where we grew up. Ian spent weeks and months at a stretch with her. I’d imagine he learned quite a bit.”

“Is he a witch too?” Beth asked in amazement.

“It’s never come up, but were I to guess, I’d say probably. He’s spooky sometimes with the stuff he knows but shouldn’t know. It’s hard to keep secrets from him. Makes him a right pain around his birthday and Christmastime.” She laughed.

Beth stood again. “Well, I’m off, and it might be better if you didn’t mention our little talk to anyone.”

“Right,” Meg said with a conspiratorial wink. “Tell your friend he’s a good man. He just needs a good woman to help him sort himself out.”

Unable to sit and wait patiently until evening, Beth sent Lily a midmorning text begging a lunchtime rendezvous for humanitarian reasons. Seeing the glowing expression on her friend’s face over slices of pizza at the food court, she decided to keep her visit with Meg a secret for the time being. “It all sounds so romantic,” she said with a heartfelt sigh, chewing her crust thoughtfully.

“It was,” Lily agreed, “all that and more.”

Resigned to secrecy but completely powerless to resist the urge to stir the pot just a little, Beth asked, “Remember the reading you did for Ian at the Castle? What were the cards you pulled again?”

“The Queen of Cups, the Ace of Cups and the Eight of Wands. Why?”

“What did he say about it? The reading, I mean,” Beth urged.

Lily thought for a moment. “He pointed to the Queen and said he went to the tent to find out who I was but the woman in his dream was a blonde, not black haired like me,” she recalled, smiling shyly. “During dinner he confessed he saw me on that first day walking with you, so he already knew I was blond. Remember the hot painter up on the scaffold? He–”

“Yes, but I have one burning question for you, dearie. How did he know the Queen of Cups was a blonde?”

“Well, I’m sure…he…maybe he…” Lily’s voice trailed off, but after a minute she admitted she had no logical explanation.

Beth gave her a big Cheshire cat grin. “My work here is done,” she said.

* * * *

When Lily returned to the office, she was greeted with smiles Janice and Irena. “Something came for you while you were out,” Janice sang in a happy voice. Lily walked to her desk where a beautiful bouquet of Sorbonne lilies stood waiting.

“There’s a card,” Irena said, leaning forward to see who they were from. Lily plucked the card from the envelope and read it.

Thank you for a most enchanting evening–Ian

“Who are they from?” asked Janice.

“A friend,” Lily said, tucking the card away in her pocket before anyone could see. To avoid further questions, she picked up the glass vase. “I think they need more water,” she remarked then turned and scampered to the break area in the back. She ran a little water from the faucet and finished filling the vase. Pulling the card from her pocket, she read the inscription again and smiled with fond remembrance.

The office was busy as usual for a Friday afternoon, and Lily waited a bit before asking where Lucas was.

“He left when you were at lunch,” Irena said, biting her lip. “I told him about your beautiful flowers arriving. I thought for sure they were from him. I hope I didn’t mess anything up…”

Lily struggled to keep her face impassive while mentally berating herself about what she had done. What on earth was she going to tell Lucas? Of course he was going to ask. Truly though it wasn’t any of his business and she knew it. Lucas never once sent her flowers in all the years she’d known him, but Ian sent one after the first date. She updated the mental scoreboard. Ian Two, Lucas Zero.

She leaned in to sniff the fragrant blossoms. How sweet, she thought. She wanted to call and say thank you for the thoughtful gesture but decided there were too many ears about. Maybe he’ll be at the Castle tonight, and I can tell him in person. The lady sitting in front of her had to ask her three times about making a payment before Lily snapped out of her daydream with a “…hmm? Payment? I can help you with that…”

Lily completed the transaction then endeavored to keep her mind off the excitement of the coming evening, failing miserably in the attempt.

* * * *

Late in the evening, Ian was hard at work mixing colors in his home studio. He was contemplating a short break when the voice on the answering machine gave him the needed excuse. “Ian–are you there? Pick up your damn phone,” Dan growled good-naturedly.

Ian briskly wiped the turpentine from his hands before grabbing the handset. “Hey, I’m here.”

“Screening your calls?” Dan asked with a laugh.

“No. The ringer’s off. I’m actually working for a change. Shocking, I know,” he joked. “What’s up?”

Ian walked to the kitchen and poured himself a glass of merlot as Dan explained his plight. “Need your help, my brother. I’ve had a call off for the fencing show Saturday night. Can you do it? You already know the routine. And as an added bonus, if you’ll help me out, I’ll get Meg to make you a big pot of that awful stew the two of you love so much.”

Ian’s mouth began to water at the prospect of the savory Irish stew.“Tell you what,” he said, “I’ll do it on one condition. You get the new girl from the gypsy tent to play the lady, but don’t tell her I asked. And the stew,” he added as an afterthought.

“That’s two conditions, but–done,” Dan agreed with a hearty laugh. “Gotta get to wardrobe but I’ll stop by her tent on the way back to ask her, okay? Maybe she won’t refuse a request from her king.”

Ian grinned. “Brilliant,” he said, replacing the phone on its cradle. Taking his wine back to his studio, he grabbed his cell phone from the workbench and sent Lily a short, cryptic text.

please tell him yes

Humming to himself, he picked up his paintbrush and returned to his canvas.

* * * *

What did Ian’s text mean? Lily mused. Before she could deliberate further there was a commotion outside the tent, and the crowd parted to let the king and his royal guards through. Beth, Esmeralda, and Lily dropped into deep curtseys. “Good evening, your majesty,” they said in unison.

A more youthful and less portly version of Henry VIII, Dan graciously bade them rise then addressed Lily. “We would speak privately with you, mistress.” Leaning close, he whispered, “I have a favor to ask. We do a street performance a couple of times a week, and one of my cast members has called off for tomorrow night. Would you mind filling in? There aren’t any lines or anything.”

“What kind of performance?” Lily asked.

“For this, you would be a lady of the court, so you’ll need a different outfit and you won’t need the wig. You walk with a suitor through the market. Another noble comes up and challenges him to a duel for your hand. I show up and bring them to the list field where they fight it out for your honor.”

“They joust?” Lily exclaimed.

“No,” Dan said, laughing, “they fence. You’ll have a scarf to give your suitor as a favor, and then you are escorted to sit by the queen on stage. The two men fight, the winner comes to claim you and kisses your hand as his reward. Then you get escorted off stage. That’s all there is to it.”

Lily began to protest, not wanting to be the center of so much attention but then remembered Ian’s cryptic message. Could this be what he meant? “Yes,” she agreed at once. “I’ll do it.”

“Wonderful,” exclaimed Dan. “Swing by wardrobe tomorrow around seven. They’ll know the dress you need.” He spent the next few minutes explaining the order of events, then turned and with a wave worthy of a monarch, made a grand exit to the delight of the crowd. After he and his entourage left the tent, Lily pulled out her cell phone and sent a response to Ian.

I said yes.

His reply was immediate.

thank you