Authors: Susan Squires
Jane had never heard such a wonderful, brave sentiment. But it was also rather sad.
Brina slapped her knees. “Now, let’s see to this cut.”
*****
Jane was adding a couple of extra yolks to her bowl of raw eggs to increase the richness of the scramble when Drew slouched into the kitchen about nine. That was early for Drew. Jane looked up. “Good morning.”
“Don’t ‘good morning’ me,” Drew muttered, moving to the coffee pot like a meteor succumbing to earth’s gravity. Once she had her cup and had taken a sip, she turned on Jane. “Tell, all, BFF.”
Was this what marriage did, put you in a state of permanent blush? “Nothing to tell,” she said lightly. She might tell Brina what happened. But she sure didn’t relish telling her best friend.
“Your introduction to the world of sexual bliss is not nothing.”
Oh, dear. Jane felt the air go out of her lungs. She took the bowl and turned to the stove, protecting herself from Drew’s prying eyes. “Didn’t happen.” And she should have left it there, but the excuses just tumbled out. “It was late. We were tired. Neither of us had gotten any sleep the night before. And then I was stupid enough to drop a glass in the bathroom, and I cut my foot, so
. . . .” Finally all the words were gone, so she just shrugged, like it didn’t matter. And she would never tell Drew that he’d gotten her a nightgown. Or worn pajamas. Or that he hadn’t even held her. She felt as though she might break apart, she was so brittle. She grabbed a whisk and started beating her egg mixture within an inch of its life.
She didn’t hear Drew moving, but suddenly there was a hand on her shoulder. “People put such stupid amounts of pressure on a wedding night. It’s just one night,” Drew said softly. “You have your whole lives together.”
“I know.” But did they? Could a marriage built on settling for second best, at least on his part, thrive? No matter how much she wanted to make him a comfortable life, would that be enough for him? Would he tire of her? The horrible part was that she thought he was too honorable to divorce her even if he was just sick to death of being married to her. Unless he found his Destiny. Then she’d be out in a minute. But that was not going to happen. She agreed with him on that. No, she’d be there to see the distance growing in his eyes, the regret maybe turning to bitterness. Now she wondered if she could bear it.
“It was one night,” Drew reiterated. “You have tonight.”
Jane turned panicked eyes to Drew. Tonight. What would she do? What would she say?
“You’ll be fine,” Drew reassured her. “Just let nature take its course.”
Jane, for the life of her, couldn’t think what that meant. There was nothing natural about suddenly deciding to get married to someone you’d known most of your life, and never taken the slightest interest in, romantically. Or even noticed much about her. That’s what Kemble had done. But she nodded. Not her fault if it was a trifle convulsive. “I know,” she managed.
But she really didn’t know anything of the sort.
CHAPTER NINE
“
All right, what have we got, Hardwick?” Morgan barked as she swirled off her traveling cape and handed her shoulder bag to Jason. All the way home on the plane she had been thinking of Thomas, ripening and almost ready for enjoyment, brief though that might be. Still, he would give his all for her. Literally. And he was her path to immortality. She thought about bringing him back to Las Vegas with her. But that was too dangerous. Vegas was, after all, a Sin City full of temptation. The monastery was definitely the best place for him. For now.
“
The source says the Tremaines are going to the museum opening,” Hardwick said.
Morgan smiled slyly. “Ex
cellent. Tremaine isn’t as smart as he thinks he is, is he?”
She whirled and paced, comforted by the light of the Talisman displays holding the Sword and the Wand.
“It’s only a matter of time.” She looked up at Hardwick sharply. “But it’s going to get messy. How secure is your source?”
“
He’s ours, body and soul,” Hardwick reassured her. “We have something he wants more than anything.”
She ran her hand through the streak of gray that remained in her hair.
“Three! We’ll soon have three. But there’s so much more to do. We must prepare for the day when we have them all. Even with three we can start.”
Hardwick looked puzzled. The hard planes of his face made stark shadows in the glow of the Talismans. Well, she could make him look more than just puzzled.
“Get me a list of the greatest military strategists.”
Hardwic
k frowned. “You mean in the Pentagon or the Kremlin, or whatever?”
She chuckled. “No. I want the greatest military minds of all t
ime.” She watched his eyebrows rise. “That should keep you busy until it’s time for action.” She waited for questions. But he didn’t blink. That’s what she liked about him. He never hesitated, no matter what she asked, and he didn’t ask why. He’d know soon enough.
*****
The contracts for Redmond were complete. Michael had looked like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders as he signed the last of them. Kemble was now trying to concentrate on the daunting task of looking for the Talismans of the Tarot. His computer screen glowed at him, but it wasn’t a cheery light. This whole effort had been so dispiriting lately. And what if Morgan and her crew were in Athens because she’d found one? Not that he thought it likely that a Talisman was in Greece. But the Sword had been buried treasure in the Caribbean, and the Wand was a walking stick in the possession of a Magister of the Golden Dawn. Maybe Greece wasn’t so farfetched after all.
He sat back in his ergonomically correct chair. He just had to find a new angle. Okay. What did he know about the other Talismans? Maybe that would give
him a clue. Well, they were all in great shape. It was as if there was some spell on them that prevented damage, even tarnish. The Sword had been buried, probably since the seventeenth century, and Michael said it came out of the ground gleaming. That was one thing. Then there was the fact that they were all very richly appointed—jewels and precious metals, carving, that sort of thing. He’d concentrate on the Cup, since he was stymied on the Pentacle.
But where did that get him? He was looking for a jeweled cup in great shape from Dark Age Britain. Which there really weren’t any of as far as he could tell.
The best he could do were the Derrynaflan Chalice and the Ardagh Chalice from Anglo-Saxon hoards of the same name, buried to in Ireland to keep them from Viking raiders. They were the finest examples of metalwork of their age. Problem was, that age was at least three or four hundred years after Merlin. If they had been made in Merlin’s time, they would have looked quite different. They were large shallow bowls in worked metal, each with a narrower base. No jewels in sight.
Okay. So no one knew of the
Cup from the late fifth century. Now.
But maybe someone knew about it once. A long time ago.
He got busy. For the next four hours, he combed through museum descriptions of manuscripts of the period that might have mentioned descriptions of cups or chalices. It was nearly three when he hit pay-dirt. The museum was in France, which is why it was down on his list. But their catalogue said they had a journal of a monk named Rubius who visited the south of England in the sixth century, and came back with a chalice “fit for a king.” He was so excited he hardly felt the fact that he’d only had five hours sleep last night. This could be it. Now all he had to do was get hold of that manuscript. He began the search for info on the museum. He’d contact them and arrange for scans or transcriptions to be sent. Apparently the manuscript itself wasn’t in great shape.
What came up in his search was the report of a robbery. He had a sinking feeling as he scanned the article.
Shit. The only thing taken was the Rubius manuscript.
He’d bet money he knew who had taken it.
Kemble rubbed his eyes. He’d better call it quits on the Talisman search. He still had some research to do where Jane was concerned.
At that moment
Drew burst into his office without even knocking. Her eyes were big. She stood, quivering, just inside the door.
“Y
ou look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Stupid thing to say to someone who actually had visions. He saw a shadow pass across Drew’s face.
She swallowed and took a breath. “Actually, I think I might have seen the Cup.”
Kemble stopped breathing. This was just the breakthrough they’d been waiting for. He hadn’t made it, of course, but that didn’t matter. “What does it look like? Michael can Find it.”
Drew’s face collapsed in distress. She looked around the office wildly. “That’s just it. I can’t quite see it.”
Kemble got up hastily and ushered Drew to his chair. “Just sit down here and tell me what you do see.”
She perched on the edge of the chair.
“It’s dark. Well, almost. Everything is sort of red. That’s why I can’t see much. A shape. It’s definitely a chalice of some kind. It’s behind glass.”
“Like a display?”
“Yes. . . .” she said slowly, as though she was playing the vision over again in her mind.
“What’s its shape? Like any of these?”
He opened a file folder on his desk and showed her the pictures of the Irish hoard chalices he’d assembled to show their father.
Drew shook her head. “
No. It’s more like an inverted flower shape with a base. It looks pretty big. Maybe a foot? I think . . . I think I see lumps on the outline.”
K
emble heaved a big sigh. “Those would be jewels.” Not any of the cups he’d found, but it could be the cup Rubius brought to France.
“Sorry.” Drew sounded like she was about to cry. Which was not like Drew at all.
“Hey, we’ve got more than we had yesterday.” Kemble tried to sound cheerful. “We know it’s in some kind of collection. Maybe private, maybe public. We know the general shape, and that it’s got jewels.” He filled her in on the manuscript and shrugged. “We might be able to find a copy of the manuscript somewhere. Maybe it has a picture. Then Michael can get going on Finding it. Let’s go tell Senior.”
Drew gave him a pained look. “Can we wait until the meeting tomorrow? Maybe I’ll get a repeat that will show me more. I just
. . . just hate feeling like a failure.”
“I know,” he murmured. At least you won’t have to get used to it. “Weekly reporting meeting it is.”
He’d get all their info together into a file. At least they’d have something to report, which was more than they’d had recently.
*****
For some reason Kemble didn’t understand, his mother served dinner at six o’clock. The family never ate that early. Lanyon and Tamsen looked like the cats who’d swallowed the proverbial canary. Senior had convinced Brina that the Clan was in Athens and that the outing would be safe then told the youngest of his offspring he was taking them to the museum opening. Now everybody wanted to go. Guess they were all feeling a bit cooped up. Senior shrugged and agreed, but insisted on planning the security himself. Tamsen and Keelan started discussing dresses immediately. Lanyon speculated on how many girls would be there. Michael toasted the completion of the Redmond contracts. So dinner was even more boisterous than usual. That covered up the fact that Drew was pensive and he and Jane were both nearly silent. Kemble dreaded the meeting with Senior tomorrow to discuss progress on the Talismans. But there were things he dreaded more.
After he’d comforted Drew, h
e’d done what research he could on how to make Jane’s experience, if it happened, more comfortable and ordered some products delivered to the Breakers. But he had no faith that research would suddenly make him into the right man to initiate Jane into the wonders of sex.
Jane looked pale and distracted. What would he say to her? How would he approach the problem? She didn’t look excited at all.
Hell, she probably didn’t even want to do it with him. He bet she already regretted accepting him. Especially after the mess he’d made of last night.
The dinner wound down much sooner than Kemble wanted. His mother shooed them out the door before the grandfather clock in the foyer could strike eight. He helped Jane into the Beemer, and Ernie pulled up in one of the SUVs to shadow them over to the new house. He and Jane hadn’t spoken a word to each other in hours.
Didn’t matter. He was going to man up and be a husband. Later, if she wanted out of her obligation, he’d man up to that too and give her a divorce. But he’d screwed things up royally last night, and tonight he was going to do it right.
He hoped.
They pulled into the circular drive. A young man came up from around the side of the house and opened Jane’s door.
“
Good to see you, Mrs. Tremaine.”
“
Thank you, Rory.”
Rory
? Jane knew the name of the security guard?