Love Entwined (26 page)

Why purchased, but never traded, never used? He wondered. Why were these things never thrown away and just left here to gather dust?

He opened another crate containing drawings. Some were loose pages and others in sketchbooks. A page fell out of one book, and he caught it before it hit the floor. It was a drawing of the cradle upstairs in the nursery.

“Mon amour, we are blessed.”

His eyesight blurred. A vision of Amelie lying naked across his chest teased him, her full breasts pressing against him…

Shaking his head, he set the drawing aside. He was just tired. His mind was playing tricks on him.

He opened a large cedar wood box on top of the pile and carefully uncovered a faded wedding dress. He did not lift the dress out of the box. He was afraid it would fall apart. The ivory colored dress with a high neck had a choker studded with diamonds.

It would look beautiful on Amelie with a diamond-studded veil. The thought startled him and he closed the lid and placed the box aside. Marriage ruined relationships, and he’d had his fill of those anyway.

The next box contained a diamond-studded veil.

His heart pounded in his chest. He could not rationalize how he had known what was in the box, but felt a curious mix of sadness and exhilaration. The former he could not explain, but he understood the latter; exhilaration. He was getting closer to an answer. He opened several of the other boxes: silk, satin and delicate, old lace. There were crates containing tools of measurement, paperweights, pewter cups and dishes.

When he opened a box of books and ledgers, he set it by the halogen lamps. He sat down on the attic floor with a handful of ledgers and laid them out. They were ship’s logs of
The Raven
ranging from the years seventeen eighty-six to seventeen ninety-four.

He skimmed through the log of seventeen ninety-four. It contained the ship’s course and wares received: jewels and precious stones, cloth, wool and spices. Reading through the captain’s last notation of the log, he saw:

This will be my last voyage for some months, as Gwenyth is due to give birth this fall.

He was privileged to get this small glimpse into the past. In previous years’ ledgers, the jewel trade dominated most of the accounting. This ledger mentioned a newly married Captain Cardiff and the arrival of his first-born.

Before he met Gwenyth, Captain Cardiff spent most of those years on the ship in trade and the ports were numerous.
The Raven
had traveled the world.

He skimmed through the ledger of ‘eighty-nine, noting mention of King George III, and read more carefully.

May 22, 1789: Made port in Paris by request of King George.

Contact with Comte St. Clair.

He scanned a list of notes the captain had made on cargo and trade during the visit. At the bottom of one page, he stared at a name he’d been waiting to discover.

July 15, 1789: Departed Paris port. Set sail for London, England.

Only survivor of mission: Jacqueline Bouveau St. Clair, on board.

21 years of age and in good health
.

Jacqueline, the woman he had thought he was kissing that night with Amelie in the vault. He knew of her, it was not his imagination. He was not going crazy.

It was madness.

There were intimate things he knew that he should not, like the beauty mark on her bum. Or the way she liked to play with his chest hairs, twisting them about after they made love.

These were Captain Cardiff’s memories, not his own. He had yet to see the beauty mark on Amelie, but he knew where he would find it.

Capitaine…
Like a faint memory,
she
crept into his mind. Jacqueline.

He gathered up the things he’d collected in a pile and left the attic.

The questions came fast and furious. He was certain the answers were in this house, somewhere, because Amelie was here.

That is what he’d missed about her before. When Amelie had arrived at St. Clair Manor, he could not help feeling that she had come home.

One question of the many hounded him as he made his way down to the occupied wing of the house and into his suite. Gun shots, car chases, murderous traps in the forest, and last but not least, Emil’s demise…what had Amelie come home to?

St. Clair Manor, North Yorkshire – April 18, 1988

“A light coma. We can do nothing but wait.” Doctor Latham finished examining Amelie, and put away his instruments.

The doctor spoke with Roman and Amelie’s parents by the door in low tones while the nurse put the bedclothes in order.

“Doctor Latham,” the nurse called.

Roman and the Laurents followed the doctor over to the bedside.

Amelie stared up at him.

“Beauty.” He crowded the physician, who was examining her again.

“
Ma chérie
.” Celine Laurent kissed her daughter.

“Mama. Papa, the shop…” Amelie tried to sit up.

The nurse came forward to help. She held a cup of water while Amelie took a few sips from the straw.

“
Ma petite
, who cares for shoes when you lay in a sick bed.” Bernard Laurent took her hand and rubbed it between both of his before kissing it.

“Well, young lady, you gave us quite a scare. I am Doctor Latham. What is your name?”

“Amelie Celeste Laurent.” She turned her head toward the doctor. Her eyes widened when she saw the ceramic Buddha on the bedside table.

Roman winked at her.

“What year is it?” the physician asked.

“Nineteen eighty-eight. Doctor, how long have I been…sleeping?”

“You have been resting for two days. Today is April eighteenth,” Doctor Latham provided.

“Only two days.” Amelie turned to Roman. “It seems like a lifetime.”

Roman remained quiet while the questions went on.

“When is your birthday?” the doctor asked.

“June twenty-second,” Amelie said. She turned to Roman again. “Blue Belle?”

“She is fine, but you really gave her a fright.” It was forever etched in his mind; the moment the roan had fallen, landing dangerously close to her where she lay unconscious in the horse’s path.

When the doctor asked them to accompany him out, Roman followed reluctantly. They passed Anne, sniffing behind her handkerchief and James, who grinned at Amelie from the foot of the bed.

“Will she be all right?” Celine wanted to know.

“The worst is over,” Doctor Latham said. “She will experience headaches now and again, even fainting spells.” Dr. Latham turned to Roman. “She needs quiet, not too much excitement, eh?”

“Of course.” Without blinking, he made the appropriate response to send the doctor on his way.

By the time he saw the doctor out and returned to Amelie’s room, Caroline and her mother had whisked her away to the bath.

He went through the sitting room and into his own room to wait. Turning on his laptop, he attempted to read his emails, but blast it; he could not concentrate. He finally turned off the laptop and headed down to the pool to swim away his nervous energy.

* * * *

Amelie came through the bathroom door with Caroline trailing behind her, in league with Doctor Latham, no doubt.

“Roman.”

“I hear you can have breakfast downstairs this morning,” he said.

“I can bring a tray if you are not up to it,” Caroline said behind Amelie. “It has only been three days since you woke, Miss Amelie.”

He was sitting up on the side of the bed with his legs spread wide, bare feet on the carpet. They had not had much time to themselves. Amelie’s parents and the nurse had been her constant companions.

Amelie turned to Caroline. “We will be down in a few minutes.” She padded over to him in fuzzy bedroom slippers.

His gaze swung to Caroline, who wavered by the door. When the maid caught his look, she scurried, closing the door behind her.

Amelie stood between his legs. “I must talk to you.”

He took her hand. “And I, you.”

She jumped at the knock on the door.

“Sir, its Doctor Latham. He is here to…”

“Blast it, James, she’ll be there directly.”

“I’d better go.” She attempted to pull her hand out of his but he held on.

“I am coming with you. I’m sure your parents will meet us there. When are they going home, by the way?”

She narrowed her eyes at him before opening the door. They walked hand-in-hand through the sitting room covered in Oxford green and passed Dr. Latham and her parents who were sitting in front of the fireplace. Neither of them said a word as Roman helped her onto the four-poster and their audience watched with varying expressions of amusement and interest.

Doctor Latham insisted that she lie down on the bed while he probed and prodded. “The bruise on your forehead is fading. You are a strong young woman, Amelie. Has Roman taken good care of you?”

“Yes sir, very good care.” She smiled at Roman who was standing on the other side of the bed.

“Not too much excitement, I hope?”

“Oh, no excitement at all, I can assure you, doctor,” he drawled.

Behind Dr. Latham, Amelie’s father coughed. Her mother smiled at Roman, and Amelie kept her eyes trained on the doctor.

* * * *

Before her parents left to take Roman’s jet home to Rouen, they all went on a tour of the property. They split up when her father asked about the new collection and Roman took him to the drafting room.

Amelie’s mother was drawn to the gardens. The terraced levels were the very designs that had once graced the Comtesse St. Clair’s gardens in Asnières-Sur-Seine. Even the grounds were a testament to Captain Cardiff’s love for Jacqueline.

Amelie and her mother wound through the box hedges on the graveled walkway past lush blooms in every color. They sat in her favorite spot, on a stone bench in a niche overlooking the green. The statue of Zeus pointed to the breathtaking view of the River Wharfe in the distance.

“
Maman
, do you remember the painting you made for me, the one of the two girls playing by the Seine?”

“You were going through a phase.” Her mother laughed at the cherished memory. “You could not have been more than seven at the time. You told me you were a grand lady at King Louis’ court. Do you remember that?”

“No, I don’t. Where did you get the idea for the two girls by the river?”

“One day we were riding along the banks of the Seine and you told me how you and your sister would ride. You asked me to paint a picture with big, white horses. Being an only child, you thought of many ways to entertain yourself. You had quite an imagination.”

“Would you be able to part with it? I would love to keep it.”

“Of course,
ma chérie
.”

A sudden shower drew them back into the manor. They continued the tour through the north wing. The drapes in the main hall closed to the weather, making the corridor seem still and dark as a tomb. A wall sconce flickered up ahead.

Amelie glanced around. She did not see the lady of the manor, but felt as if they were being watched as they walked through the corridor.

“This house, it is like a museum with
objets d’art.
” Her mother fingered a Ming vase in the third floor gallery. “The antique furnishings transport you to another time.”

“I know the feeling.”

Maman
turned to her. “You are so at home in this huge, old mansion.”

“It is a very special place.” She led the way across a white-tiled floor dotted with little gold ravens reminding her of the captain’s beloved ship. The lady’s sitting room was certainly built for Jacqueline. It was as if the captain had fully intended that the lady join him here after her death.

“You love him very much, don’t you?”

She hugged her mother. “I feel as if I have known him all my life.”

“And how does he feel about that?”

“I don’t know. There is so much we have not spoken about.”

“Talk to him, Amelie.”

At first, she was certain she would tell Roman of her experience. As the days wore on, she put too much thought into how he would react to her fantastic story. He would arch his brow at her and smile as if she’d told a bad joke. Or worse, he would call Dr. Latham.

On the other hand, how could she tell him what she once was, an evil high priestess who called forth a demon to feed on humans? Whether he believed her or not, it was unthinkable to voice the truth. Maybe she should spare herself and say nothing at all. No, this was his life as much as it was hers. It was his family history. She had to tell him. She just hoped that when she did it would be the right time.

* * * *

Amelie waved as the Bentley rounded the courtyard fountain.

She never knew such a big car could handle curves so well with James driving. In seconds, she could no longer see the Bentley through the trees as it wound its way through the long drive.

“My mother must be terrified. My father is undoubtedly cheering him on,” she murmured.

“It is time.” Roman’s arms encircled her and she turned to face him.

One look in his eyes and she burrowed against him.

She had no regrets in life now, for she knew that life was many choices linked together. The outcome could go one way or another. But the blueprint, the intent, was love. She felt peace in the knowledge that never changed.

Somehow, Jacqueline had known she and her captain would be together forever. In this lifetime the conditions were right and their paths had crossed once more.

Roman’s imminent arrival into her life had been heralded in her dreams.

Everything she had ever done, from her professional endeavors to her relationships—or lack thereof—was in search of Roman, her soul mate.

He picked her up and carried her through the foyer, across Haddon Hall and up the north wing stairs.

In his suite, he laid her down across the bed, and then strode back to the door.

She rose up on her elbows. “Where are you going?”

“I am not going anywhere. Neither are you. For at least twenty-four hours.” The lock clicked into place.