The Witch's Journey Page 17

  “A friend of yours?”

  “I saw her at one of the clubs last night,” he dismissively said.

  “You must’ve made a good impression. She’s beaming like you’re best buddies.”

  “Buddies?”

  “Pals, mates.”

  “I was filled with drink; I believe she sat with us.”

  “Hey, Faolan,” the woman with bleached-blonde hair and too much makeup said.

  “Hello, Milly?” he guessed.

  “Misty,” she corrected.

  “This is my friend, Samantha,” Faolan said.

  “Hi,” Angelique managed. Misty shook her hand but eyed Faolan from head to toe, then leaned in closer, reeking of strong perfume. Angelique’s eyes watered and her jealousy escalated when Misty kissed his cheek. Sights, sounds and auras now seemed absurdly distorted.

  “If you’d like to show Misty around, I’ll find Newt,” Angelique said not waiting for his reply.

  She went to the ladies’ room fighting dizziness. She should go to Fiona’s shop, get a remedy to curb nausea. She might even confide in her.

  When Angelique’s pendant grew warm, but then oddly icy cold, she waited to see who came from the stall. The woman had light brown hair and pale green eyes. Angelique’s skin prickled but she was so dizzy, she couldn’t determine her aura.

  “Not feeling well?” the woman asked.

  “Strong perfumes make me headachy,” Angelique replied.

  “They are mostly toxic,” she said.

  “Yes,” Angelique agreed wondering if she should recognize the woman’s voice, but with the room spinning, she couldn’t think straight.

  After the woman washed her hands, she pulled a tissue from her bag, wet it and passed it to Angelique.

  “Place this on the back of your neck; it’ll help. Hope you feel better soon.”

  Angelique managed to lower herself into a chair and closed her eyes. The cool tissue did help some. She wiped her tears. How the hell was she going to travel through time if smells affected her? When she finally felt strong enough to go back out, Newt eyed her.

  “Jesus, Angie! You’re white as a sheet. Did you see a ghost?”

  “That wouldn’t bother me; I see them all the time. I’m pregnant,” she finally whispered.

  “How in the hell did that happen?”

  “It wasn’t immaculate conception.”

  “The guy at the B&B agreed to leave two boxes of condoms.”

  “You think that’s the only time we’ve had sex?”

  “No, but if you’re already feeling sick, you’re likely…”

  “A few weeks along.”

  “Have you told Faolan?”

  “No and I don’t plan to. I’m sending him back.”

  “Jesus, Angie. He’s psyched about going on this journey through time with you. He’s not an item you ordered online. You can’t just casually return him.”

  “He nearly leapt for joy when I lied and said the pregnancy test was negative.”

  “You hate deception.”

  “Lesser of the two evils. Holding him here for longer than he wants would be worse.”

  “He told me his first wife died trying to give birth to their child. Maybe he was just relieved that you wouldn’t be in danger.”

  “Maybe. Or maybe he doesn’t want to be tied down. He was brought here against his will…and now he’s being pretty damn cheerful with Misty.”

  “Misty? That stripper from last night? She’s here?”

  “You took him to a freaking strip club?”

  “Obviously, that wasn’t my idea. Tristan suggested it.”

  “Now the stripper’s here.”

  “Must’ve heard me talking about my exhibit. She gave Faolan a pretty intense lap dance. He was drunk enough I don’t think it did much for him even though she was all over him.”

  “As she is now.”

  “Shit! I doubt this is the best time to tell you what I need to tell you.”

  “Newt, just tell me.”

  “I’d better show you.”

  He led her to an alcove with a large painting. Angelique felt her eyes grow wide and her temper flare.

  “For fuck’s sake, Newt! How dare you!”

  “You can barely tell it’s you,” he sheepishly said. “It’s really good, Angie. Might be the best I’ve ever done.”

  Angelique stared at the immense painting of her in the bath, her body surrounded in bubbles except for her neck, shoulders and one breast. The full moon was visible through the window; her glass of wine sat on the nearby stand. He’d brilliantly caught the nearly ethereal mood of the moonlight and one candle casting shadows. The colors were perfect, the painting exceptional. She wasn’t sure whether to cry, scream or praise him for his obvious talent.

  “Say something, Angie.”

  “It’s very good. It’ll be auctioned the night of the hospital function. Proceeds will go toward the children’s wings with due recognition given to you. If you argue, I’ll slash the frickin’ thing now or use magic to throw it straight through that window.”

  “You wouldn’t make a scene, Angie. That isn’t you!”

  “Don’t be so sure!”

  She walked away and nearly ran into Faolan. By his expression he’d seen the painting and appeared less pleased than her.

  “You didn’t know about it?”

  “I did not!” she replied.

  “I’d like to cut off his accursed hands,” Faolan said.

  “I’m not sure I’d stop you other than it would make a gory mess.”

  “What do you intend to do?” Faolan asked.

  “I’m not doing anything.”

  “You’ll cover the blasted painting or permit me to dispose of it!” he ordered.

  “It’ll make lots of money for the children’s hospital and do a lot to further Newt’s career.”

  “I’m not bothered about his feckin’ career. Do you think I want every man in Boston to see you as I’ve seen you?”

  She glared.

  “Firstly, not every man in Boston is here and clearly they haven’t seen me as you’ve seen me. What of the Renaissance paintings, all those fully naked women?”

  “None were my woman!”

  “You think I am?”

  He cocked his head and stared.

  “Is this one of those trick questions you like to pose?”

  “Misty obviously doesn’t believe I’m your woman. You did introduce me as your friend.”

  “What should I have said—my girlfriend, my lover—my former lover?”

  “If you’re angry about that painting because my breast is visible and not because Newt displayed it without my permission, then you should have said I’m more than a friend.”

  “You’re quite in agreement of men buying it and staring at your very pert nipple when they—how do people phrase it in this century—jerk off?”

  She glared again. “If the buyer wanted it for masturbating, magazines would be less expensive and much more convenient.”

  “You’re not displeased other men have seen you as I’ve seen you; that intimate part of you?”

  “Easy with the Neanderthal mentality, Faolan. No other man had his hands or his mouth on that nipple while his cock thrust inside me.”

  “Keep your voice down just a wee bit.”

  “Worried Misty might hear you and it’ll disrupt your plans for the evening? She’s likely eager to spend time with you and your mighty galleon.”

  “By God, Angelique! You actually think I’d bed another woman?”

  “Honestly, Faolan, all I know is I need to get out of here before heads start to roll or tides start to rise.”

  He followed, but when she was out of sight of others, she used her magic to disappear.

  Chapter Twenty

  “Am I permitted to enter your bedchamber?”

  She nodded, sitting up in bed.

  He stepped in but remained near the door.

  “Newt was worried. He knows he’s done wr
ong.”

  “I’m glad he sees that.”

  “You’re still annoyed with me, too?”

  She shrugged.

  “Because of Misty or because I was possessive in not wantin’ other men to see you unclothed?”

  “I believe it’s best you go back to your time.”

  He stood looking at her. His eyes serious, he exhaled.

  “I knew this was comin’ by how cool you’ve been.”

  “I’d always feel guilty disrupting your life. You’d eventually resent me. It was only supposed to be for a month.”

  He finally sat on the chair.

  “What of me swearing to go with you as your guardian to protect you? It wasn’t avowed without conviction.”

  “I know and I’m truly honored but it’s not your circus or your monkeys.”

  “What?”

  “You aren’t responsible for my freaking complicated life.”

  “You’ve forever cursed me, Angelique. No matter what we do now there can be no contentment.”

  “You don’t think I realize that and that I haven’t cursed myself, too?”

  “Perhaps.”

  “The spell will be done on the solstice,” she said.

  “That’s but a week away.”

  She caught the panic in his voice, the same panic she felt even thinking about being parted…forever.

  Tears brimmed in her eyes but she fought them.

  “Could you be happy here, during this time, Faolan, after I do these tasks and this predicted battle is over? You’ve adjusted well.”

  He took some time to reply. “I can’t get old and fat, remaining here without purpose. I couldn’t live off your coin indefinitely.”

  “You could do almost anything, Faolan. You’re exceptionally intelligent, very good with people, adaptable and a quick learner. You could start a business, go to school, train to do anything you’d like. The opportunities are endless.”

  “I’d require your money in order to do anythin’.”

  “Initially, to begin a business or to pay for schooling—but it would be up to you to succeed. You’re driven. I honestly believe you can do whatever you set your mind to. Since sailing will always be in your blood, we could even buy a ship.”

  “A small, mock ship like your friend Tom, maybe? Do you suppose I should wear my hat, behave outlandishly like Captain Jack Sparrow, perhaps throw in a few aye mateys and arghs? Maybe give tours wearing an eyepatch?”

  His tone was uncharacteristically confrontational.

  “Of course not.” She sat up higher and consequently grew dizzier.

  His eyes narrowed and he looked away as he spoke. “You’ve never once suggested comin’ to my time, but presume I’d be content remaining in this time foreign to me.”

  “I didn’t presume that. I’ve always known you’d need to go back. It was only wishful thinking.”

  “You wouldn’t last two days in my time anyway,” Faolan said.

  She knew he was baiting her, hoping to start a fight.

  “Probably not,” she said, not up to an argument.

  “With your dependence on luxury and convenience, your many garments and comfortable home, your machines, technology and automated…everythin’, your organic food and special water, your need to bathe three times a day.”

  “I don’t bathe that often.”

  “You do. Often mornin’ and night, sometimes before we’re intimate.”

  “Water calms me. You want me to apologize for living during this century—for the advancements in my time—to feel guilty for wanting to eat healthy, be clean and smell fresh? Maybe you should apologize for having a sword made of steel and not iron, for having a ship with masts, not only oars?”

  “Hardly comparable to your luxuries.”

  “Mom insisted on automatic lights so I don’t walk into a dark room…like she did. Automated taps prevent the spread of disease-causing bacteria. If you’d actually been with nearly any other woman here for more than a night out or a freaking lap dance, you’d discover I’m not typical. I spend very little on clothes, accessories or beauty products, rarely go to hair salons. I’m far from high-maintenance. Mom and Newt both said I’d fit in better if I’d been born in another century.”

  “They were wrong!” Faolan said.

  It infuriated her he had so little faith in her adaptability.

  “Isn’t it fortunate you won’t need to stay much longer, endure such hardships as modernization or put up with a woman so dependent on luxury?”

  “You wouldn’t come to my time then—with me?” he questioned.

  “Are you asking me to go back after telling me I wouldn’t last two days? Seems a little senseless. Hardly worth the coin for a coffin. Although if we’re at sea, I suppose you could toss me overboard…finally be done with me.”

  “Even if you didn’t go through with it, I suppose I’d like to know you’d be willin’ to go back so we’d be together—that this life isn’t worth more to you than me.”

  Their eyes met and she couldn’t prevent her tears. As they wet her cheeks, she saw he fought the urge to hold her. Typically, he’d be comforting her, but in his disagreeable mood, he looked away.

  “Explain what our life would be if I went back,” she said, sniffling “Would you take me on your ship, dealing with cutthroats and murderers?”

  “On the less risky sailings; other times maybe you could wait for me.”

  “Alone in a cottage with no heat, no running or hot water, perhaps bathing once a week. I know how to create remedies from herbs so I’d fare better than some and I’ve been inoculated against many diseases, but what if I became pregnant?”

  “Women do bear children during my time, Angelique. Life doesn’t come to an abrupt halt in the eighteenth century, else we wouldn’t be having this damn conversation.”

  “Yes, only one in three women die. Great odds! You’d leave me pregnant and alone in a different time while you sail off on your adventures?”

  “You’d make friends and have our children to keep you company and occupy your days. I wouldn’t be gone all the time.”

  “You’d still have the life you’re accustomed to and your extensive variety of women. But if—no when you’re run through with the sword of your less than stellar companions or your enemies—your ship’s lost in a storm or crashes upon the rocks on some far-off shore, would I even learn your fate? Who’d raise our other children when I eventually die in childbed?”

  “You paint the rosiest picture, Angelique!”

  “Clearly better than you living here and putting up with luxury. Do you know how many men would jump at the opportunity to start a business or take whatever schooling they desire—or simply travel the world with a woman who…cares for him very much?”

  “I’m not most men and I do have a business and a life in another time, Angelique.”

  She nodded, her heart breaking. “I’ll do the spell on the solstice,” she whispered.

  “Sure Danhoul will accompany you as your guardian on these journeys,” Faolan said. “With his music and magic, you’d have far more in common anyway.”

  “I’m tired, Faolan. Sleep in the other room…or wherever you choose. I won’t make another decision for you while you’re here, but if you’d let me rest now, I’d be grateful.”

  She closed her eyes, hoping he’d leave before she cried so hard she couldn’t stop.

  He stood, must have struggled deciding, but she heard the door close, then the outside door, too. Good, she wouldn’t have to silence her sobs.

  *

  Faolan aimlessly walked, needing to clear his head. He’d been trying to pick a fight—maybe to see if she’d fight back.

  The cold wind howled, coming in from the stormy sea. If Angelique’s moods controlled the sea, they were in for a bad storm. He chastised himself. He should be back holding her. Faolan was cursed, for he’d lost his heart to her. She couldn’t know how often he’d considered forgetting his life before he met her and remaining here.
But he was pulled back, too. He didn’t think himself a prideful man, yet he did have a life back in his time.

  “Hey, Faolan. You look deep in thought.”

  Faolan jumped, for he hadn’t heard anyone approach.

  “Hello, Danhoul. Aye, I’m a bit preoccupied. Why are you about on such a disenchanting night?”

  “I do a lot of walking after I’ve played at the pub. How was Newt’s gallery exhibit?”

  “That’s a complex question. There were a lot of people in attendance and he received a good deal of attention.”

  Danhoul glanced out of the corner of his eye. “Then what’s the reason for your discontent?”

  “I’ve had an unpleasant disagreement with my lady,” Faolan said.

  He had difficulty referring to her as Samantha.

  “That’s never enjoyable.”

  “She’d like me to give up my life…in Ireland and stay here with her.”

  “You don’t want that?” Danhoul asked.

  “I do, but I can’t.”

  “Samantha won’t go with you? She always talks about Ireland like she’d move there in a heartbeat and it’s obvious she cares about you.”

  “I have other commitments.”

  “Are you married?”

  “What? No, there’s no other woman, well none who I’ve shared more than a bed with. But my business keeps me away a lot. The people I associate with are a bit ruthless. I can’t draw her into that life.”

  “Love’s complicated,” Danhoul said.

  “I didn’t say I loved her.”

  “You didn’t have to. I’ve never seen Samantha look as happy as when she’s with you either.”

  “We’ve known each other less than two moons. I really don’t know…”

  “I can’t tell you what to do, but I can offer some friendly advice,” Danhoul said. “I’ve been in love with a woman for years. She’s married and deeply in love with her husband. There’s no possibility of us ever being together and I don’t even have the option of distancing myself from her. Fate’s ensured I must be near her. If you and Samantha care for one another, make it work.”