Читать книгу The Celtic Knot - Shannon MacLeod - Страница 7

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She stole through the dense forest, peering into the dark undergrowth for some semblance of a path and finding none. The curtain of trees overhead allowed for little light to break through and more than once, she hurtled into low hanging branches and stifled the startled scream that would give her location away. She scanned the darkness, knowing she must keep moving.

Fright molded her breath into short, uneven gasps. Hearing leaves and twigs crackle under the feet of her unknown pursuer close behind her, she pushed herself harder. Up ahead she saw a tiny light and scrambled for it, keeping low and to the shadows. The light grew brighter and she realized it might be a way out of her forest dungeon. The piercing cry of a bird of prey ripped through the darkness and with adrenaline fueled wings on her feet, she ran toward it…

* * * *

Lily Evans jerked awake when the alarm went off. Early morning, the mid-October sunlight streamed into her bedroom. Covered in sweat and heart racing, it took her a moment to realize she was safe in her bed. She stretched, displacing the large black cat curled up asleep in the crook of her knees. “Same scary dream again, Bella,” she said, ticking the cat behind the ear.

She fumbled around in her nightstand and tugged out a satin drawstring bag. Closing her eyes, she reached into the bag and pulled a tarot card from her much loved Smith-Waite deck. “The Fool,” she read, placing the card back in the bag. “A new beginning. Sounds like a good start.”

She rolled out of bed and began the getting ready for work routine. Her phone rang at eight forty-five sharp just like Lily expected. Beth’s questions came rapid fire. “Are you ready? Are you close to ready? Are you even awake?”

“Of course I’m awake,” Lily teased, smiling at her best friend’s early morning exuberance. “I’m just sitting around waiting for you.”

“I’ll be there in a jiffy,” Beth promised. True to her word, Lily heard her friend charging up the stairs to the second floor apartment less than ten minutes later and ran to unlock the chain and deadbolt before the hammering on the door commenced. “I’m so excited we’ll finally be working together,” Beth squealed. She paused for a breath, took in Lily’s business attire and frowned. “You’re dressed like you’re going straight to work from the Castle.”

Lily sighed and nodded. “I told Lucas I should be in by eleven thirty at the latest.”

Beth’s mouth tightened at the mention of Lily’s self-appointed boyfriend and Lily gave her a pointed look, knowing what elicited the sour expression. “I know you don’t like him,” she said.

Beth’s response was swift. “Nope. I think I’d have to like him more to just not like him,” she said. “You’re selling yourself short. He doesn’t appreciate you at all, you know.”

“He appreciated me enough to give me a job at his dad’s agency,” Lily replied to the often voiced complaint.

“Only so he could keep you under his thumb,” Beth snapped. “I’m just glad he hasn’t asked you to marry him yet. Otherwise, the two of you would already be off raising a whole new generation of insurance agents. You will go to your grave old, wrinkled and insured to the hilt, but he will never make you happy.”

Beth continued to lecture as she helped herself to coffee. “You haven’t even had time to have a life yet. Don’t you have any wild, non Lucas-y oats that need sowing first before you throw your life away?” She cleared her throat. “I mean, before you settle down and marry Luc…” Her head fell forward in a dramatic swoon. “Shit, I can’t even say it,” she moaned.

“If anyone needs a man, it’s you,” Lily said, her voice quavering with suppressed laughter. “Of course, we’ll have to make you a little less intimidating first.” Beth’s wardrobe choice of the day featured faded jeans, high tops and a t-shirt carrying the warning Caution: Bites when Provoked stretched tight over her ample chest.

“I’m not looking. Maybe this weekend I’ll run into Mr. Right Now, though.” Beth waggled her eyebrows. “There’s all kinds of men underfoot at the Castle and most of them are clean and have their own teeth. Shall we go see, m’dear?”

Lily gasped in mock astonishment. “Their own teeth, you say? Such a glowing endorsement, this I must see for myself.”

* * * *

Castle Wilde, the year round Renaissance festival park, was a new attraction in Central Florida but growing in popularity and size by leaps and bounds. The park wasn’t open yet for the day, but plenty of people were around working and setting up for the events. Beth chattered nonstop as they walked from the parking lot to the main gate. “They do all kinds of shows here, acrobats and minstrel bands, jousting, fencing, human chess–you name it. Some of them are street performances, so you never know when you’re going to walk smack into the middle of something.”

Looking up from his magazine, the guard at the gate waved them on through with a smile and the girls set off down the main boulevard.

“How long has it been since you’ve been here?” Beth asked.

“Not since they first opened.” Lily sighed. “After Lucas told me how he felt about this kind of stuff, I didn’t ask him to bring me again. I’ve wanted to come back, though.”

Beth nodded in sympathy. “What did he say when you told him you were getting a part-time job here reading cards?”

Lily rolled her eyes. To say Lucas hadn’t exactly been supportive was like saying a tornado was slightly breezy. “He does not approve. He told me I needed to grow up. You know he thinks the whole tarot thing is nonsense anyway, and you…well…you didn’t quite make the short list of his favorite people.”

Throwing a hand to her forehead dramatically, Beth sobbed. “Nooo…oh, wait. Don’t care,” she sang. They passed several large brightly colored tents, one of which had a wooden gypsy vardo parked next to it. “That’s our tent,” Beth said proudly. “They pull the sides up when it’s open. Wanna see?”

Inside, the tent was attractively decorated with colorful scarves and beads hanging from the ceiling, small round tables with dark fringed tablecloths and wooden chairs scattered throughout. Lily scanned the tent’s interior. “Wow,” she said. “I really haven’t read for that many people before, and…”

“Quit worrying–you’ll be great,” Beth assured her. “C’mon.”

Taking her by the hand, her friend led her past empty booths and carts that would be full of medieval wares later in the day. Further up the street, a group of men were busy painting a mural on one of the high cement barriers closer to the office. A lone man stood on a low scaffold, adding lush red roses and trailing vines to a painted trellis with quick, sure brushstrokes. Lily noticed him right away. He was younger than most of the other painters and obviously engrossed in his work.

“Major eye candy at one o’clock,” murmured Beth. Lily had to agree with her assessment. The lean, sun-bronzed man on the scaffold wore a Bucs ball cap, his long hair pulled back and banded into a tight ponytail. Muscular shoulders and arms glistened with the early morning humidity and the white ribbed tank top clung to the sculpted muscles of his chest and abdomen. His white painter’s pants rode low on narrow hips and bore occasional splashes of bright paint. Lily glanced back over her shoulder when they walked by and with a jolt realized the attractive man in the cap had stopped painting to watch them. He touched his fingers to the brim of the cap, tilted his head and gave her a dazzling grin. Lily offered him a shy smile before lowering her lashes and turning away, her cheeks flaming at having been caught looking.

Beth snickered under her breath. “You’re so busted,” she said.

“Good thing he can’t see my pulse too,” Lily mumbled, placing her hand on her chest in a futile attempt to slow down her wildly beating heart.

The kind-eyed man behind the desk smiled when they entered the office. “Good morning, Beth, it’s good to see you. This must be the friend you told us about. I’m Dan Wilde–welcome to my castle.”

Instantly charmed by his proper English accent, Lily stuck out her hand in greeting. “I’m Lily Evans, pleased to meet you.”

Dan stood and took her hand, giving it a firm but gentle shake. A bearded bear of a man, he towered over both girls. “That’s a lovely accent you have there. Is it real?” When Lily blinked in confusion, he laughed heartily. “Of course it is. Please forgive me. I’m used to dealing with actors all day.” He walked around the desk and leaned against it while he spoke. “So, Lily, read the cards, do you? Beth tells me you’re excellent at it. How soon can you start?”

Lily smiled at the easy job interview. “Would this weekend be soon enough? I could come in Friday after my regular job. I get off at four.”

“Brilliant,” he said, clapping his hands and rubbing them together.

“Dan and his wife Meghan are our monarchs so whenever you see them in costume, you’re supposed to curtsey,” Beth said. “There are other lords and ladies and sometimes the customers get dressed up too, then you don’t know who’s who at all. You’ll get used to it.”

Dan promised to have her paperwork ready when she got there on Friday. “Meg’s out of the office right now and I have no idea where she puts anything,” he admitted with a sheepish grin. “I suspect she does it on purpose.” He ran a large hand through his mop of unruly brown hair. “Wait right there.” He loped off to an adjacent room, and upon returning, handed Lily a spiral bound employee handbook. “There will be a test,” he said, the corners of his mouth twitching with humor.

Lily bobbed a quick curtsey and replied, “I’ll commit each and every word to memory, your majesty.”

Beth laughed. “See, I told you. She’ll be perfect!”

* * * *

The two women hadn’t been gone more than five minutes before the office front door opened again. The painter with the cap shuddered when the cold air conditioning met the sweat on his skin. “Jaysus, it’s like a freezer in here,” he groused good naturedly.

Dan looked up from his purchase orders and grinned at his visitor who was busily rooting around in the office refrigerator. “How’s the painting going?” he asked.

Ian Kelly, younger brother of his beloved Meg and Dan’s best friend since boyhood, plopped down on the leather sofa with his purloined soda. “It should be finished by this afternoon,” he said, looking around warily before snapping the tab. “Is my sister here?”

“No,” said Dan, “she’s out running errands.”

Ian relaxed and leaned back, rubbing the cold can on the sides of his face. “Good. Who was the blonde that was just in here?”

“Mmm?” Ignoring the question, Dan stacked the papers neatly to slip back into Meg’s inbox. “Hey, if you’re going to be done this afternoon, want to try to get in nine holes before dark?”

Ian rolled his eyes heavenward and heaved a dramatic sigh. “We both know,” he said, his soft brogue becoming even more pronounced, “the only reason you insist on dragging my incompetent arse onto the golf course is so you can feel better about that nasty slice you’ve developed.” He paused for a drink of soda. “As I have told you on numerous occasions–you may recall–I am Irish. The Scots excel at the wretched sport of golf while the Irish excel at drinking fine whisky and chasing after beautiful women, which brings us back to the original question. I know the redhead. She works in the gypsy tent. Who is the pretty blonde?”

Dan chuckled to himself. His brother-in-law had something of a reputation with the fairer sex and although at times exaggerated, it was for the most part well deserved. “The red-haired one is Beth Vargo.”

“The blonde, Dan. Focus, please.”

“Her name is Lily Evans. We just hired her on as a weekend card reader for the gypsy tent.” He narrowed his eyes. “Break this one’s heart and I’ll start hiring men only.”

“Me? You wound me, Dan.” Ian shook his head in feigned affront. He went silent for a moment but obviously decided he couldn’t resist the temptation. “So…is she married?”

“I didn’t ask,” Dan said, smothering a grin.

“Hmmph…” Ian glanced up at the clock and threw his empty can in the recycle bin by the door. “I gotta get back. Reef should be finishing up his section by now and I’ll be needing to go over it before we move to the next.”

“Wonderful,” said Dan. “You’re still coming over for dinner tonight?”

“I planned on it. What’s on the menu, by the way? If you’re up for grilling, I’ll pick up some steaks.”

Dan sighed in relief. “Meg mentioned making some sort of casserole, but I’d much rather have a nice thick t-bone.”

Ian hooted with laughter. Meg was for the most part an excellent cook, but her casseroles were the stuff of nightmares. “Steak it is, then. I’ll see you around six thirty and after dinner, I’ll kick your arse in darts for you.”

“Not a chance in hell, Kelly.” Dan said, snorting with good natured derision.