Thirteen Chances (19 page)

Gawan stopped and turned his head. “For argument’s sake, could you explain why?”

Christian glowered. “Because mayhap, if she goes on with her life instead of suddenly remembering the one we had together, and all the past times we’ve tried, then she might be able to simply live out her life happily.” He frowned more. “Not be reborn to do the whole bloody thing over again. And all for naught.”

Gawan studied him for some time. Finally, he scrubbed the back of his neck and sighed. “Chris, trust me when I say this—you canna trick fate. ’Tisn’t possible.” He gave an assuring smile. “I should know.”

Christian considered his friend. “Aye, but your situation was vastly different, Gawan. Your station in life was different, as well.”

“Aye,” he argued, “you’re right about that. I had a bit of a connection, did I no’?”

Christian sighed and rubbed his eyes.

“Listen, my friend. Whilst I cannot tell you exactly what’s in store for you and Emma, I
can
tell you this: making an attempt to alter fate’s design simply won’t work. If the two of you are meant to be, eventually, you will be.” Then he sighed. “If no’, then ’tis something unfortunate, in truth, and I’ll do my best to help you get through it.”

Christian regarded Gawan of Conwyk. Not too long ago, Gawan had faced challenges no one—ghost and mortal alike—thought he could overcome. He’d won his immortality on a battlefield in 1145 and walked amongst the living as an earthbound angel for centuries. His retirement had finally arrived, his mortality just within his grasp, when Ellie, his Intended, showed up.
Sort of.
She’d had a wee problem of being
mostly
dead at the time. They overcame it. Fate led them to each other, in the end.

Would fate finally lead him and Emma to each other? Dare he even hope such?

“Besides,” continued Gawan, as though he’d never finished speaking, “from those heated looks you cannot seem to keep yourself from throwing at poor Emma, you’re not winning that battle of challenging fate after all.” He waved a hand before his face. “A downright bloody inferno within a ten-foot radius of either of you, and it’s far worse this time than the last.” He grinned. “In other words, laddie, you’re failing miserably at trying to dissuade Emma.”

Christian knew it. Damn, he’d tried. His eyes always wandered back to Emma. And stayed. He was drawn to her like air to lungs, and he wanted nothing more than to get as close to her as his flimsy, spectered self could. He wanted to tell her how he felt, how much he loved her, how badly he wanted her. How he would beg her to spend whatever time they had left together, he as a spirit, she as a mortal. ’Twould never be enough, but better than nothing at all.

More than that, he wanted her to say the same things back to him.

“Have you told her about us?” asked Gawan. “Ellie and me, I mean.”

Christian knew he referred to his and Ellie’s struggle and triumph against fate. “Nay.”

“Hmm. Does she remember any of us?” Gawan continued. “Dragonhawk and his knights? The Munros?”

Christian shook his head. “Nay. I told her nothing, and she’s remembered nothing. She has met Justin Catesby and Godfrey. She didn’t recognize them.”

“Well,” said Gawan, smiling and rubbing his hands together, then shoving them deep into his jacket pockets, “the lass will be in for a hearty surprise, eh?”

“No doubt.”

Gawan laughed. “Why did you bring her here?”

Christian shrugged. “I thought ’twas the best place to keep her distracted. I wanted her to see more of my world, yet I didn’t want to dislodge any memories.” He glanced at his friend. “She doesn’t remember any of you, and she’s never in the past recalled coming to Grimm. I thought ’twas safer than at Arrick.”

The smile on Gawan’s face grew wide. “Well, we’ll just see about that now, won’t we, laddie?”

Emma followed Ellie Conwyk through the massive oak double doors and into the main part of the castle, Jason close on her heels. It was the great hall, he had informed her.
Wow.

She could certainly see why.

Dark wooden open rafters crisscrossed the ceiling from one end of the mammoth room to the other. Old-fashioned sconces decorated the walls in no apparent pattern—just wherever light was needed, she supposed. A massive fireplace, taking up almost the entire far wall, was ablaze with a nice, toasty fire. Two huge, black wrought-iron chandeliers hung from the ceiling on opposite ends. A sweeping staircase led upstairs. And hanging here and there on the stone walls were enormous tapestries, each depicting medieval battle scenes.

All in all, it was the most impressive place she’d ever encountered.

Except, of course, the Arrick ruins. She felt particular about that place.

“Well,” said a smiling Ellie, who’d patiently allowed her to gander. “Welcome to Grimm.” She winked. “Don’t let the name fool you, though. This place is magical.”

Emma had little difficulty believing it. “It’s absolutely beautiful,” she said. “Thank you again for inviting me.”

“Are you kidding? As long as I’ve known Christian, he’s never brought a girl over,” she said, giggling. “You’re the first. Isn’t that right, Jason?”

He grinned down at her. “Indeed, lady. You are the first, and I must say I’m vastly glad ’tis you.”

That, too, was something to consider.

The wrapped bundle hanging from the carrier on Ellie’s chest wiggled and grunted, and she pulled back the pink blanket to reveal a head covered in downy brown hair. Ellie stroked the baby’s cheek. “Oh, sleepyhead is finally waking up—you want to follow me upstairs? It’s changing time. Jason can see you to your room. Then I’ll meet you there.” She smiled. “Show you around a bit.”

“Sure.” Emma smiled wistfully at the little girl. Her poochy lips sucked an imaginary bottle, and her wide blue-green eyes seemed to stare right at her. “She’s so sweet,” she said.

Ellie laughed. “Wait until you hear her lungs.
Fabulous
lungs,” she said. “So, Christian tells us you’re a photographer?”

Emma nodded as she climbed the stairs beside Ellie. “I am. I mostly do weddings,” she said. “But after arriving in Wales, I’ve decided landscapes are fast becoming a favorite.”

Ellie grinned at her. “It’s gorgeous here, isn’t it? America is beautiful, of course, but there’s just something special about this place. Don’t you think?”

“Absolutely.” They reached the second-story landing and Ellie turned to her.

“Jason will take you the rest of the way up. I’ll go change little Miss Stinky Pants here and then take you on a Grimm tour.” Ellie smiled. “See ya in a few.”

“Okay,” Emma said.

“Right this way,” said Jason, close to her ear. “You’re on the fourth level.”

Emma followed Jason, who continued to glance down at her and grin. Such an infectious personality, she couldn’t ignore it if she tried. She smiled back. “Are you always this cheerful?”

Jason wagged his auburn brows. “Of course. What man wouldn’t be, walking with a beautiful maid as yourself?” He nodded. “Aye, it in fact puts me in the sweetest of moods, indeed.”

Emma laughed. “Not very shy, are you?”

His eyes twinkled. “Not in the least.” He inclined his head. “One more flight to go.”

Emma couldn’t get a handle on Jason. In fact, all the men she’d met on this trip had been, oh, a little larger than life. Gawan and Jason were so unlike the men she knew in America—it was hard to chalk the difference entirely up to being British. She’d met Brits before who hadn’t filled a room with their sheer size and charisma. These men reminded her in a way of Christian, though certainly they were more solid …

Down the corridor they walked, Jason chatting away. At the last door on the right, he stopped. “Here we go, lady,” he said. He opened the door and gave it a push.

Emma walked into the room and held in a gasp. It was enormous, with a wide, picture window overlooking the North Sea. Before the window stood a big, plush sofa.

“Wow,” she muttered, walking straight to the window.

“Aye, wow,” said Jason cheerfully, joining her. “I’ve never grown weary of the sight.” He set her bags on the floor, then leaned against the sill. He crossed his arms over his chest and gave her a warm smile. “If you like, once Ellie has given you the Grimm tour, I can give you the Grimm village tour.” He winked. “Best chippy in the north of England.”

Emma grinned. “You just discovered the way to my heart—food.” She winked back. “You’re on.”

He gave an enthusiastic nod. “I like a girl who can hold her own at the supper table.” He leaned closer.

“But I wouldn’t put it past Sir Christian to want to tag along. He’s powerfully protective, you know.”

Emma blinked. “He is?”

“Oh, aye,” Jason said. “Fiercely so.”

She cocked her head. “Why?”

A soft expression settled on Jason’s handsome features, and his smile was warm. “ ’Tis how any knight reacts when his lady is around.” He shook his head. “Lucky man, Sir Christian.”

Emma gave a nervous laugh. “I don’t exactly think Sir Christian has any reason to be so protective over me.” She shrugged, and couldn’t help but wish she were wrong. “We’re just friends.”

An all-too-wise look lit Jason’s eyes. “Of course you are.” He pushed off the sill. “So, are you ready for the tournament?”

Emma took in her room, complete with its own fireplace, an enormous four-poster bed, and a private bathroom. She looked at him. “I’m not exactly sure what the tournament is.” She grinned. “What is it?”

Jason shoved his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket. A new smile touched his mouth—one that was purely male. “ ’Tis the most extreme of sports, lady. Swords. The joust. Wrestling.” He winked. “You’ll fancy it, I’m sure.”

“No doubt I will. When does it begin?” she asked.

“Two days from now, which is why I’m in a fierce hurry to take you into the village alone. Once the Dreadmoor knights and the Munros arrive, I’ll be lucky to even catch a glimpse of you.”

Emma smiled and shook her head. “What does that mean?”

Jason beamed. “Oh. You shall see, lady.” He inclined his head. “Would you like to freshen up?”

“That would be great,” Emma said. “I’ll just be a minute.”

Jason nodded. “Excellent. I’ll just run to my chambers, and I’ll meet you back here. We’ll accompany Lady Ellie round the castle; then we shall make for the village.” His grin stretched from ear to ear.

And with that, he hurried out the door.

Emma made quick use of the bathroom and gave herself a once-over in the mirror. She didn’t look half bad for having spent the morning in a helicopter, but she was glad for a minute to smooth her hair and put on some lip balm.

She spent a minute admiring her room and trying to catch her breath from the whirlwind of her trip. How strange that her in-depth feelings had brought her to Wales, to Arrick-by-the-Sea, and ultimately, to Castle Grimm, where her hosts were more than welcoming, and the tournament …

Once again, she felt very lucky to have happened upon that Arrick Web site.

“Ready?” asked Jason, whose head appeared in the doorway.

“Ready,” said Emma.

She wondered briefly what Christian was doing.

She wondered in depth if he really, sincerely thought of her as
his lady …

As soon as she and Jason made it to the first floor, he was pulled away.

“Lady Emma,” Gawan said, giving her a warm smile. “Would you mind letting me borrow young Jason for a score of minutes? I promise to return him, posthaste.”

Emma couldn’t help but return the smile. “As long as I get him back before the chippy closes.”

Gawan smiled. “Indeed you shall.” He threw Jason a look. “Come on, boy.”

Jason winked at Emma, shrugged, and loped happily along beside Gawan as they left by the front entrance, leaving Emma completely alone in the enormous great hall.

Knowing Ellie would be down soon, she decided to take a quick look around. She’d never before been inside a renovated castle, and so far Grimm completely fascinated her. What drew her attention first was the largest tapestry hanging, so she made her way over and stood before it. It was indeed breathtaking.

In the tiniest of stitches, it depicted a battle scene. A woman in armor sat astride a powerful horse in the center, surrounded by a band of armored knights and farmers with pitchforks. One warrior, Emma noticed, wore no armor, and had numerous tattoos across his chest and back. She pulled closer, and stared hard at the fierce knight.

How strange that she thought he looked …
familiar?

“There you are!” exclaimed Ellie.

Emma turned, and Ellie hurried across the hall, the baby bouncing in the carrier, and a toddler in each hand. Behind her, hurrying along, was a tall, lanky man with a kindly face and big ears. He sort of reminded Emma of—

“My lady! I’m ever so sorry not to have greeted you upon arrival!” the man said, stopping before her and giving her a short bow. “My name is Nicklesby, and I am ever at the ready for anything you need.”

Nicklesby all but hopped from one foot to the other, he was so excited.

Emma smiled. “It’s nice to meet you, Nicklesby, and thanks for the offer.”

His grin seemed to lift his entire face. “You are most welcome, love.” Then, he turned and took the toddlers from Ellie. “Seth, Jacob—come along, lads,” he said, addressing Gawan and Ellie’s young twin boys. “Come help me in the kitchen, won’t you? I’ve a bowl and wooden spoons for you to play with whilst I make lunch.”

With a shriek of delight, the brown-haired boys, who looked no more than two, began hopping up and down—much like Nicklesby had. Nicklesby smiled and allowed the tykes to drag him to the kitchen.

“Now,” said Ellie, “let’s take that tour I promised you. Now’s the best time, because after tomorrow you won’t hardly be able to move in here.”

“What do you mean?” asked Emma, following her lead.

Ellie laughed. “Oh, you’ll see. Four teams for the tournament, and trust me—they aren’t little guys. Once they’re all here, it’ll be shoulder-to-shoulder testosterone in the great hall, and anywhere else you try to escape.”

“Wow. That’s a lot of testosterone.”

Ellie shook her head. “You have no idea.”