Authors: Eliza Dean
“I
told you that I understood, more than most, your hesitance at discussing this
particular topic.
I’ve been a patient of
Dr. Cross for many years and it took me another few years before that to admit
that I was having thoughts … hallucinations … or whatever you want to call them
and reached out to someone.”
“So
you have visions, like me, of being someone else?” I asked.
“I
do.
It started when I was very young and
working with horses at our estate in Somerset.
At first I didn’t know quite what to think of them and when I got old
enough to mention it to my parents it was passed off as Déjà Vu.
It wasn’t until I was older and they were
getting stronger and more frequent that I realized what it was and began to
seek help.”
“How
did you feel about it?
What was your
first thought?”
“I
was angry.
I felt like my mind was being
invaded by a force that I didn’t have control over.
My initial response was that this person has
lived their life, why do they want mine?”
I
knew exactly how he felt.
He had just
put it into words for me what I had been unable to articulate, “That’s how I
feel.
I feel like if I give her too much
control, she’ll just take over and I’ll stop being … me.”
“You’ll never cease to be you, Ellie.
But there is a lot of her in there,” he
pointed at my chest, “You can do with it what you will.
On the upside you have an amazing insight
into one of the most prominent figures in the history of the world.
There is no one else on the planet that knows
how she felt when she was imprisoned in the Bell Tower all those years
ago.
People have written about it, made
movies about it, but no one truly knows, except you.”
I
took a deep breath, “She was terrified.
She was trying to be strong but she really felt that she would die
there.
She was carving her initials into
the stone behind the door but someone stopped her and she ended up gouging a
huge hole in the stone, which is still there by the way.
I saw it today.”
A
smile lit up his face.
It was the look
of pure elation at the knowledge of something so significant that not a single
person in the world knew but him, “Will you show me?
If I’m there with you and the door is open,
no chance of being locked in, will you show me?”
How could I say no?
The look of enthusiasm on his face was infectious, “Okay, I’ll do it.
But I don’t want to be there after dark.”
“Neither
do I,” he answered, “The Tower is haunted, you know.”
I
shook my head, settling back into the comfortable seat, “Haunted has a whole
new meaning for me these days.
It’s a
strange feeling to close your eyes and not have any control over what’s behind
them.”
Chapter
15
W
e arrived back at
the Tower where I told Thomas, our driver, that he could go for the day.
I was sure I could make it back to the hotel
from there, and Ronan would be there to walk me.
We thanked him and told him we would call him
once we decided where to go the following day.
Entering the Tower after closing and walking right past the guards was a
strange experience.
I still found it
hard to believe that Ronan lived there.
“Do
you have a house somewhere else?”
“I
have a flat northwest of here in Coventry, but I spend most of my time here.”
I
nodded, like I had any idea where Coventry was, “Coventry,” I repeat, as if it
will come to me once I say the word.
“Ah,
right, Stratford?
I’m sure you’ve heard
of Stratford-Upon-Avon?”
“Yes,
where Shakespeare lived,” I at least knew that.
“Shakespeare
was
from
Stratford, he spent most of
his life here in London.
But that is
very close to where my other home is.
I
go where my work takes me, and for the most part that’s here,” he motioned
around him at the dark towers rising above us in the dusk.
“I
could think of worse places to live,” I smile.
“Come
on.
Show me your mark, before we’re late
for our dinner with Jess.”
I
had heard his use of the word
your
,
and I wondered briefly if he was beginning to blur the lines between me and
Elizabeth.
Dismissing it I followed him
across the grounds and past Tower Green before walking the narrow passageway to
the Bell Tower.
“How
long was she here?” I asked him as he led me up the stairs.
“Eight
weeks,” Ronan answered, “She would have been twenty-five.”
We
arrived at the top level of the tower and my anxiety returned full force.
I tried to shake it, telling myself it was
just a room, and with him there it would be different than it was this morning.
“Are
you okay to go in?” he asked me, a look of concern etched on his handsome face.
“Yes.
I’ll be fine.
It’s just, this morning when I saw … well, it was the first time that I
could truly feel her panic.
All the
other visions I’ve had, even the one going into the tower from the water below,
it was nothing like this.”
“You’ll
find the more visions you have the more in tune you will be with her
emotions.
It’s not uncommon to feel
panic, fear, elation … or even pleasure when recalling her life.”
Ronan
pushed open the cell like door at the entrance, “Here, there’s a stone
here.
I’ll put it at the door so it
can’t be closed, alright?”
I
nodded, watching him place the heavy stone at the entrance.
“It’s here, behind the door.”
I led him into the room and with my hands
shaking I pointed directly to the gaping hole in the stone wall.
“Astonishing,”
he whispered, running his finger across the jagged edges of rock.
“She
was crying while she did it, I could feel her tears and her pain,” I shook my
head, still overwhelmed by my own admissions.
“What
did she use?” he asked, his fingers still grazing the stone.
“Some
sort of tool, I didn’t recognize it.”
He
turned to me, “Thank you.
I know it was
hard for you to return but you’ve given me another piece of a puzzle.
It’s one that I can’t share with anyone but
it’s amazing to know, none the less.”
“Why
can’t you tell anyone?” I asked him.
“How
would I prove it?
It’s not in the
history books, there’s no written account of it and I certainly can’t say that
Ellie Regan who’s the reincarnated queen told me herself she left the mark.”
Reincarnated
Queen.
The words sucked the air from my
lungs.
“Don’t
do it,” Ronan shook his head, “I can see you already thinking and reading too
much into it.
That’s the first thing you
will learn.
Don’t give her any more
power than what she already has.”
He
read my mind.
I immediately calmed and
took his outstretched hand.
“I’ll
drop by my apartment and change shirts and then we’ll head toward the
Grange?
Is that okay?”
A look at his place?
Could be interesting
,
“Sure.”
We
went back down to the courtyard and towards a row of building labeled Private
Quarters.
He unlocked the main door with
a key and behind the door was a set of stone stairs, very similar to the ones
we had just used to climb the tower.
Once we reached the top of the narrow stairs I was near breathless from
the climb.
Ronan turned and smiled at
me, “It’s quite a climb, isn’t it?”
“Definitely
not ADA compliant,” I answered, trying to catch my breath.
Inserting
another key, Ronan opened a wooden door to reveal a relatively modern
apartment.
It was not at all what I
expected.
The walls weren’t stone they were
sheetrock, painted a cream color, very much like my own house back home.
“It’s
small but it’s plenty of room for me, and the walk to work isn’t bad,” he joked
as he came in and closed the door behind us, “Make yourself at home.
I know we’re running a bit late, I’ll only be
a minute.”
“It’s
fine, take your time,” I said, watching as he walked towards the back of the
small apartment.
Not quite out of
eyeshot he reached for the collar of his Henley and pulled it over his head
giving me a brief glimpse of his body beneath it.
My breath caught in my throat.
I loved it when men took off their shirt that
way.
I had seen it a million times in
movies and to see him do it, with that Adonis body beneath it nearly had me
fanning myself in the small room.
I turned
away, feeling like a voyeur, and faced the wall.
There I spotted a familiar picture.
It was a smaller version of the painting I
had seen of Elizabeth at Hatfield earlier in the day.
She was wearing a black dress and there was a
small rat like animal that was perched on her arm.
Around her neck was the string of pearls she
was so fond of wearing.
There was
another painting too, this one I had never seen before but I could tell she was
the center subject.
It showed her on
horseback, wearing a gold dress and riding a white horse.
She was in front of a castle and was being
helped from her horse by a dark haired man.
I moved closer to get a better look.
There were dozens of people in the painting, all of them apparently
waiting for her arrival but the one that interested me most was the man beside
her.
Who
was he?
I walked closer to the wall
within inches of the painting.
I studied
his dark hair and the regal cut of his clothes.
He looked important and he certainly had her undivided attention.
I lifted my fingers and placed them on the
glass over his picture.
Closing my eyes
I waited until the hazy vision appeared.
There was smoke all around me, and people cheering loudly.
I could feel the muscles of the horse beneath
me and there was a young boy leading the prancing creature by the reins.
I smiled at the people around me and waved to
them, my arm feeling heavy and weighted from the thick burdensome gown.
The horse stopped and I turned my attention
towards the castle where
he
waited
for me.
My heart felt as if it was
leaping from my chest when I saw him smiling at me.
He was so dark and handsome, and he looked at
me like no other.
He walked towards me,
lifting his arm to help me from my horse.
I took it as everyone and everything around me faded except for
him.
Fireworks exploded in the air above
us and I looked up and laughed.
The
warmth from his hand seeped through me.
I
was aware that everyone was staring at us but I didn’t care.
Who are they?
They are nothing to me.
He … he
is everything to me.
“Ellie?”
Hearing
my name tore me from my dream.
“Is
it happening again?” he asked from behind me.
“She
was so happy here.
There were fireworks
and the people were cheering and welcoming her.
Her horse was brown, so they got that wrong, but it did look a lot like
the painting.
But they were off on him,”
I ran my fingers over the painting of the man I had seen, “He’s much more
handsome in real life than they’ve painted him.”
“Is
that so?” Ronan answered, “Did you see him?”
“I
did.
He was waiting for her just like
the painting.
He reached out to help her
from the horse.
She was ecstatic to see
him.
She knew people were staring at
them but she didn’t care.
They were
completely inconsequential compared to him.”
“Was
that it?”
“He
helped her from the horse, he took my hand…
her hand I mean …
I could feel
the warmth from his fingers spreading through mine,” I clenched my hand that
still hovered above the painting.
I
turned to face him, “I want to do it.
I
want to go see Dr. Cross tomorrow and know more.”
Ronan
was surprised, “Are you sure?”
“Positive,”
I nodded, “I want to know more.
I have
to know more.
The feeling I felt when
she saw him …” I trailed off, not sure I could describe it, “Who is he?”
Ronan
smiled, “Robert Dudley.
The man I told
you about from before, the one that left her the pearls she wears in the
paintings.”
Robert
Dudley, the name rolled around in my head and instantly I felt a shudder, “She
loved him, I could feel it.”
“She
did.
And he loved her, more than anything
in the world,” Ronan answered, looking above my shoulder at the painting, “This
painting is a depiction of a celebration he held for her at his home.
She was there for 19 days.
He thought it was his last chance to woo her,
to talk her into marrying him.”
“Did
he?”
“She
never married, as you know.”
“Why?
She loved him, I know she did,” I watched as
Ronan seemed as lost in the painting as I had been moments ago.
“It’s
more complicated than that.
People
didn’t marry for love back then, certainly not her.
It was not easy being loved by or loving the
Queen of England.”
“How
did they meet?”
“They’d
known each other since childhood.
They
actually lived together at the Tower for a time when they were little.
He was with her during her time at Hatfield
House and once she became queen they were rarely apart.
When she was sick he was at her bedside for
days at a time, refusing meals and sleep.
He lived and breathed for her.”
I
shook my head, “I don’t understand.
Why,
if they loved each other so much, why were they not together?”
“It
was a different time.
But don’t be
fooled, they were together.
In between
his marriages and her other suitors, they were always very much together.”
Ronan tore his gaze away from the painting
and looked down at me, “I have so much to tell you, I’m not sure where to
start.”
I
looked at the clock, “Dinner, for one.
Jess will kill us if we’re late.
She’s extremely punctual.”
“Yes,
dinner.
We should be able to make it
there with a brisk 15 minute walk,” Ronan offered me his hand as he
straightened the collar of his blue button down chambray shirt.
He was so very handsome.
I took his hand and without warning a flash
of my vision came back full force.
I
felt the heat from Dudley’s hand and looked down.
Somehow, mingled with this moment I saw a
flash of Dudley’s jeweled fingers enlaced with mine.
I gasped, feeling the familiar warmth I had
felt earlier.