Chapter Fifteen

 

 

She was given Elthea’s long brown hooded cloak to obscure her face, and Maggie felt like a journeyer into the unknown as she hurried after Evan, down the stairs and out of the manor house. Her new life awaited her, and she was filled with hope. Nick followed closely behind and they found around the side of the house Countess Elthea, dressed in a similar hooded cloak and holding two horses by the reins.

“Praise be you are safe!” she whispered, handing the reins to Evan and walking up to Maggie and Nick. She reached into her pocket and withdrew something white. Opening her hand, Elthea held out to Nick a pearl necklace that gleamed in the fading moonlight. “Your dear mother gave these to me many years ago. I believe it is time I returned them to her son, for I think you shall have need of them.”

Nick accepted the necklace and then hugged Elthea. “I thank thee, m’lady, for the many kindnesses thou hast shown me throughout the years.”

Elthea pulled back and placed her hand upon Nick’s cheek. “Be safe, dear Nicholas. Protect this guest of the future.”

He nodded. “With my life, dear lady. She is most safe with me.” And turning, he smiled with love as he held out the necklace to Maggie. “Gather your pearls, my lady…”

“Nick… ?” Maggie stared at the necklace, stunned to see that save for a different clasp, they appeared to be the same as the ones she had lost. The same size pearls and the same length strand. It couldn’t be…! She didn’t move as Nick gently pushed her hood back and placed them over her head. They fell to her breast, and Maggie clutched them. “I don’t know what to say…”

“Thank the gentleman for his gift,” Elthea said, and pulled the hood back up to cover Maggie’s face.

She looked to Nick and smiled with more emotion than she knew she should acknowledge at the moment. Tears threatened, and her throat closed. “Thank you,” she whispered. “I shall treasure them always.”

“I promised you would have your jewels again.” His smile was filled with emotion.

How she loved him. She would never forget those words. Gather your pearls, my lady. She had so many memories. Stuffing the pearls down the front of her gown, she swore this time she wouldn’t lose them!

“Now bid me farewell, child. For I do not think we shall again meet.”

Maggie looked at Elthea and couldn’t stop the tears. “I don’t know how to say good-bye to you,” she mumbled. “We tried once, and it didn’t work.”

Elthea smiled and gathered her into her arms. “Oh, child… I do not think we shall meet again in this lifetime, but I know we shall again be together. We are soul mates, you and I, and we shall play this game again, perhaps with much different roles. If we are fortunate we shall again remember and again do whatever is necessary to follow our hearts. You are deep within mine, child. Take that knowledge with thee now.”

Maggie held the woman tighter, and in a flash she wondered if Elthea was her aunt Edithe in the present time. Days ago she would have thought it crazy even to contemplate such a notion, but now she knew there were things going on that she couldn’t possibly understand. Now, anything was possible!

“I love you, Elthea,” she whispered against the woman’s hood. “Thank you for being my friend when I needed one so badly.”

Elthea pulled back and looked Maggie straight in the eye. “Namaste, Maggie Whitaker.”

“I don’t understand…”

“It is a word that has come from the East and it means I recognize and honor the spark of divinity within thee.”

Maggie wasn’t sure she completely comprehended the meaning, but found herself whispering, “Namaste, Countess Elthea.” And she bowed deeply with recognition of a friend, a friend of her soul.

“Now, hurry,” Elthea urged, and motioned for Evan to bring forth Maggie’s horse. “Do not use the main roads, Nicholas. The house remains quiet, yet I think prudence is required still.”

“Aye.” Nick mounted his horse as Evan assisted Maggie.

This time no one argued with her about riding like a man. The horse snorted loudly, and Maggie’s heart stopped with fear for an instant.

“Go!” Elthea urged in a forceful whisper. “I bid thee travel in love’s protection.”

Together Maggie and Nick left Greville Manor again, this time knowing neither would ever return. They traveled slowly until they were across the wooden bridge, and then she followed Nick’s lead as he took her into a field of damp clover toward the forest. She was in it now… the adventure… and could only surrender to a force that seemed to be directing them both. Whatever this force, love even, she was now helpless to stop it.

She had to believe there was land beyond the sea… She also had to give the man credit, whoever he was. Francis Bacon knew about faith!

Maggie held her seat as the sun rose in the east and the humidity started to make her sweat. She pushed back the hood and allowed the wind to cool her as she continued to follow the man of her dreams through the forest. Neither of them spoke, and Maggie had time to replay the incredible night in her head. Still, she could not believe that she was on her way to meet the greatest writer the world had ever known. Everything Nick said made sense. They had spoken of it at great length during the night as they waited for the call to leave. William Shakspur of Stratford couldn’t have written about nobility, the law, philosophy. The man hardly had an education and had never left England. Nick said that Shakspur could barely write his own name and never claimed to have written any plays. He wasn’t even a good actor and was more involved in trying to keep himself out of debtors’ prison than in writing about Two Gentlemen from Verona, The Merchant of Venice or Taming of the Shrew. Now that she had heard Nick’s story about Francis Bacon and his lineage, it seemed more than probable that the man would easily be able to write about kings and queens and all the manipulation of the nobility.

It made her wonder what else she had been taught that was false? What other things had she taken as truth, written in history, and just accepted? Like time travel… Well, she was an authority on it now and no matter what anyone said to her, she couldn’t deny what had happened. She was living four hundred years into the past and more in love than she thought possible with the most wonderful man in any age.

Elthea had said that history is written by the victors. She didn’t want to tell Nick that she never heard of a King Francis of England, so Bacon never was acknowledged by his mother or ascended the throne. Someone else had won that fight and written the history.

They had been traveling for some time when they rode up a small hill and, as they crested the top, Maggie pulled on the reins and called out to Nick. He stopped and rode back to her.

“What is it, my love? Soon, we shall rest.”

She continued to stare at the large circle of stones in the distance. “It’s Stonehenge,” she whispered in awe. “Can we stop there?”

Nick looked down the hill and nodded. “’Twould be a good place to rest.”

Excited to finally have the opportunity to see Stonehenge, Maggie kicked her horse into action and yet slowed down as she approached the huge neolithic structure. She was filled with awe as she continued to stare at it. It was far larger than she had imagined, and it seemed to have more erect stones. Pictures can’t do it justice, she thought, as she stopped and just took in the energy of the place.

Nick dismounted and came to her assistance. When her feet touched the ground, she had to hold on to his arm for a moment as she regained her footing.

“My beloved, thou art weary from lack of sleep,” he said with tenderness as he pulled her closer.

She rested her head upon his chest and sighed. “Oh, Nick, I wouldn’t give up one moment of last night for sleep.” She raised her head and smiled into his eyes. “Would you?”

He looked deeply at her and grinned. “Not a moment, dear lady.” He kissed her forehead, and added, “Now, come… Countess Elthea was most gracious and has provided us with nourishment. Let us sit upon these ancient stones and replenish our bodies, for we have a long ride ahead of us.”

Maggie nodded and moved back to follow him to his horse. She watched as he removed a sack and untied a leather skin. He held out his hand and she placed hers inside his as together they walked toward the giant circle.

“Oh, Nick… how I have wanted to see this place. It’s famous in my time. People come from all over the word to see it.”

“Truly?” he asked, as he stopped at a huge overturned block of stone and placed the sack and skin upon it. “Thy table, m’lady…”

Maggie removed the cloak and grinned. “I cannot believe I’m about to have lunch on Stonehenge,” she said, and sat down. Running her hand over the gray stone, she murmured with awe, “I wonder who built this.”

“There are many theories here in Salisbury. The most common is the Ancient Ones. Druids,” Nick answered, unwrapping a thick round pastry and handing it to her. “Some say it was built before the Celts ever arrived on Briton, and the Druids used it as their temple. ’Tis a mystery.”

Maggie bit into the pastry and found that it contained meat. Hungry, she continued to look around the structure while wondering how whoever built it got the giant stones from a quarry and all the way to this plain. It really was a mystery.

Nick unplugged the leather skin and handed it to her. She had to be careful as she brought it to her lips and squeezed. Warm honey wine filled her mouth, quenching her thirst. Handing it back, she asked, “Exactly who are the Druids? I know I’ve heard the term, but the best I can remember is that they’re like wizards or witches, or something.”

Nick chuckled. “Four hundred years have passed, and that label persists? It isn’t too hopeful if any group of people we don’t understand, or who believe differently than we do, are still labeled witches.”

“I’m sorry.” She meant it sincerely. “I guess you’re right. That thinking does still exist. So what did they do here?”

“I’m not an authority,” he said, and drank the wine. Licking his lips, he smiled. “The Druids were an earth-based religion, honoring the sun and the moon. Eclipses would be observed. It is said that here is where the solstices and equinoxes were celebrated, along with Beltane, Lughnasadh, and Samhain, the Celtic New Year. Have you heard of them?”

Chewing, Maggie shook her head.

“Most have been assimilated into the Christian religion now and bear other names.”

“Wait,” she mumbled and held up her hand until she swallowed. “You’re saying that… well, like Christmas is actually a pagan holiday?”

He laughed. “I’m saying that most of Europe celebrated these pagan holidays that are marked by astronomical events, when the sun enters a certain sign… for example Yule is the day when the sun enters Capricorn. ’Tis the winter solstice. The minor pagan holidays came after the Roman occupation of northern Europe and the British Isles. When the Catholic Church became the official church of the Roman Empire, the people were literally forced to submit to Christianity, or perish. Many people refused to succumb and held off with incredible force and it was not until the church modified its own holidays to fall on the pagan ones that the people submitted. Thus, the European pagans were converted when they could celebrate such holy days as Yule as the birth of Christ.”

Maggie was trying to understand. “What is Yule then?”

Nick was munching on his meat pie and smiling. When he swallowed he said, “You have an inquiring mind, Maggie Whitaker. Francis will be most pleased to meet you.”

She grinned. “I guess I’ll be most pleased to meet him. It still blows my mind to think that I’m going to be talking to the greatest writer in history and that—”

“Blows thy mind?” he interrupted. “I do not comprehend these words.”

Maggie laughed and playfully poked his arm with her elbow. “It means that I will be astonished, amazed, astounded… it will, quite frankly, blow my mind to meet the author of the Shakespeare works.”

“Ahh,” Nick answered with a laugh. “Well, Francis is better informed about these mysteries. Yule was the original celebration of the return of the sun, or rebirth of the God and it was only when Christians took that opportunity to use the birth of the Son, Jesus the Christ, to convert the so-called heathen Europeans who still practiced pagan beliefs that they were successful. Most ancient texts agree that Jesus was born in the spring, yet the church adopted the pagan holy days in order to convert. The true meaning of Yule, existing thousands of years before Christianity, is the celebration of the return of light.”

“More history written by the victors,” Maggie muttered. “Geez, what else have I been taught and accepted as truth that just isn’t so?” She bit into her pie with near anger.

“Be at ease, Maggie,” Nick said, observing her mood. “The truth has a way of surviving. Even in the darkest period of history, such as the Inquisition, there are always those who secretly hold the light of truth and pass it on. It is but thy impatience that makes you angry”

“I’m angry because I’m coming to realize that what I have been taught isn’t so.”

“It was thy choice, was it not, to accept those teachings?”

She thought about that. “Well, I guess you could say it was, but I didn’t even realize there was another explanation. I just accepted…”

“Do not berate thyself, dear lady,” he said, while smiling into her eyes. “I, too, was raised with those beliefs, and to challenge the Church was heresy and a crime punishable by death. It takes courage to look beyond the obvious, and to refuse to give away your power to another’s version of history without investigation. That is why Francis shall be pleased by thy queries. You are not fearful of using your mind to mink and question. That is a sign of the seeker of truth.”

“Truth…” Maggie murmured, looking at the tall columns with huge stones on top. “Who would believe I have time traveled, and yet it is my truth.”

“I have heard such things as possible,” Nick said, and handed her the wine. “The Celts had a strong belief in the spirit world and were said to have spoken of an in-between time, a non time or place where this world and the other worlds were the closest, and ancestors and the physical world could travel easily to each plane. Francis knows of these things and will better answer thy inquiries.” He looked around the circle, and whispered, “He is a master of the mysteries.”

She merely nodded, and they continued to eat in silence, each caught up in the majestic stones that surrounded them. There was a mystical quality to the place, as though not just the stones but the very ground itself held something undefinable by man, something that no one could attach a label to. It went beyond explanations. It was just there, to be felt and held in awe. And Maggie thought it was holy, if for no other reason than that.

When Maggie finished eating, she stood up and wiped her hands on the cloth that had held her meat pie. “I’m going to explore,” she proclaimed. “This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, and I’m not going to miss it.”

Nick grinned up to her. “My beautiful adventurer…” He pulled her closer and held the backs of her thighs through the heavy velvet skirt. “How have I been so blessed that you should wander into my life and create such magic in my heart and mind?”

She grinned down to him. “Hmm…just in your mind and heart?” she teased as his hands started caressing. “The way I remember last night, my love, the physical became more than magical.” Stroking back his silky blond hair, she whispered, “I will never, ever forget it.”

“We shall make more memories,” he promised, obviously pleased by her words. “We have forever.”

She bent down and kissed him, tasting the wine upon his lips. When she raised her head and looked into his eyes, she again felt him go within her and connect to her soul. “Forever,” she committed in a serious voice.

He held her gaze for a few precious moments, and then patted the backs of her legs. “Now, go… explore, for I do not know if we shall return to this place again.”

Smiling, Maggie caressed his face once and walked away. She sighed with a deep contentment, knowing she had been blessed. No matter what anyone else thought, she knew that what was happening to her was extraordinary. Somehow, from a very ordinary life, she had been given this opportunity to find the most awesome, magnificent love.

This was the stuff of legends, what poets would write about, she thought as her palm brushed across the surface of a huge gray stone. She wasn’t anyone extraordinary. She wasn’t wise or very knowledgeable in the unexplainable. She wasn’t even religious, so piety was out the door, too. There wasn’t one single reason why this exquisite gift had been presented to her.

It had just happened, and she accepted it into her heart without question now.

As her hand continued to touch the stone, Maggie was filled with gratitude. How she had fought this adventure, even thinking she was crazy, but now she knew without a shadow of a-doubt that Nicholas Layton was the other half of her soul, that she had traveled back four hundred years to find him and know that kind of love was real.

A smile came to her face as she walked farther amid the stones. She sure had been bitter when she arrived here. Even her aunt Edithe sensed it and had tried to make her see that the only safety is in love. Nothing else was lasting. The love she had shared once with her ex-husband was real, though it was nothing like this. The love lasts, she thought with conviction, knowing that her memories of her ex would no longer be tainted ones. Thank Heavens she was not married now! In her mind she pictured her first husband and actually smiled. Once they had shared something real and memorable, and she found that, if possible, her heart was lighter as forgiveness entered and transmuted the bitterness into a mere memory. She felt free, more free than she could remember being since she was young and believed the world was a wondrous place.

“Thou art so beautiful in this moment,” Nick whispered.

She heard his voice coming from her right and turned to see him on the other side of the stone, peeking at her. Grinning, she began to raise her hand, as though to sprinkle faerie dust again to keep him thinking that, when he quickly reached out to capture her wrist.

Pulling her to him, he met her, and continued, “You fail to recognize your own beauty, m’lady.” He enclosed her in his arms and leaned back against the tall stone. Sighing deeply, he looked out to the surrounding plain, and said, “Some may say that is a virtue, to be so humble. I think humility is seeing the truth and not denying it, with the gracious ability to thank the observer. Perhaps that is what I might teach you… not to give your power away so easily.”

“You may teach me anything,” she answered, hugging him tightly and kissing his chest as she snuggled into him. “I trust you with every cell of my body.”

“Cell?”

She listened to the way his voice resounded within his chest and smiled. “It’s a term used in… in my time. It’s what our bodies are composed of, tiny cells you cannot see without great magnification. The blood, the bones, the muscles… are just cells arranged in organs and… bones and everything, I guess. But beyond that our bodies are magnificent machines that science is finding out is mostly space and in that space is atomic energy… light. And in those cells of light, I feel I can trust you, Nicholas Layton.”

He didn’t say anything, and she raised her head. He seemed lost in thought, and she didn’t disturb him. Finally he said, “You blow my mind, Maggie Whitaker.”

Laughing, she hugged him again, and answered, “Touché!”

He grinned as they mentally connected and within moments their expressions became serious. Maggie read the passion in his eyes as she lifted her chin and offered her lips to him. He gladly accepted the invitation and lowered his head.

“Forever,” he breathed into her mouth before capturing it in an intense kiss. He pulled her even closer and wound his fingers into her hair.

Maggie felt herself surrendering again to a force much stronger than her, one that was leading her in this adventure. The muscles in her body relaxed with the capitulation, and she clung to Nick’s body as the kiss deepened and she melted into him.

“Ah, Maggie, my precious one…” He kissed her cheeks, her eyes, her nose, and grazed over her lips. “If I be dreaming such a woman, do not ever let me wake. Come, there is something I want you to see.”

He took her hand and led her back to their neolithic table. “Sit, love,” he directed, then walked to his horse. He pulled something from his saddle and came back to her. Opening it up, he flipped a few pages and then handed it to her.

She saw it was a leather-bound journal of some sort. Looking up, she said, “You sure you want me to read this?”

He nodded. And waited…

Maggie looked down at the script and within moments found her eyes filling with tears.

 

Journal Entry 

15 May 1598

Long have my inner notes been lulled to whisper… until now, as I have been aroused by the reverberation that you, my ancient love, are approaching.

I have always loved you, I love you still, I always will.

And I know you are more than a dream, for I remember your tones, even in my waking, and your exquisite vibrations the very corners of my being.

We have orchestrated this, our music, for a thousand years or more. Our harmonizing chords striking deep within this One Soul shall serenade all things into infinity—a heavenly resonation—leaving such an impression upon the universe that the stars call out a billion ovations.

Listen now, My Beloved, our symphony seduces and implores, we return to us.

We are One Mind, One Heart, One Soul.

I reach to embrace you gently, but the sun’s rise chases another dark velvet thief who has stolen my sleep, our song, and you from me, as I am left in these, my long waking hours, with only haunting echos of our refrain.

Yet I know I will find you, and our music will rise again, through eternity…

Once and Forever.

 

Speechless, she looked up to him, and he smiled as he slowly sat back on his heels before her.

“Thank you for waiting, my love. Together we shall serenade our love into eternity.”

Maggie stared at his face, his full lips that just spoke those words, his high cheekbones, his perfectly aristocratic nose, his deep soulful eyes, and felt honored, privileged, to experience the moment, for it was one that was sacred. She had never felt such union with another human being. “Thank you, Nicholas,” she whispered, and wiped away a tear that was running down her cheek. “Those are the most beautiful words I have ever read.”

“It was written for you, Maggie, though I knew not who you were then.”

She couldn’t help it. The tears increased and flowed without stopping.

“Now that is not the response I was anticipating,” Nick stated as he rose and sat next to her. Gathering her into his arms, he kissed the top of her head. “Hush now, my love… ’Twas only meant to show you my conviction that you are my beloved.”

Maggie nodded and wiped at her face. “I know,” she murmured. “It’s just that no one has ever honored me like that. These… these are tears of joy.”

“Ahh…” He stroked her hair. “Then we shall allow them, but only briefly, for I wish you to tell me of your time, of these new thoughts, like body cells being of light. What else does the future hold? With all the room to roam, how could I not dream a greater future, such as you have described?”

Sniffling, she raised her head and smiled. “Oh, Nick, you should just see it. I drive a car, a machine that has the horsepower of a hundred horses, then there’s television, and—”

“It cannot be so!” he interrupted. “A hundred horses? No one can ride a hundred horses.”

Wiping her face, she laughed. “Well, I can! It’s the power of the horses, Nick, not the actual horses. Don’t ask me to explain how it works, but it does. It was called a horseless carriage when first invented. Think of it that way. I control a horseless carriage that, to you, would seem faster than anything you have ever seen or imagined. In fact,” she said, sitting up and pushing her hair back off her face, “we have sent men to the moon.”

He merely blinked at her in disbelief.

She giggled. “It’s true. At least I saw it on television, but I really believe that men have walked on the moon and safely returned to earth.”

Nick looked to the sky. “I don’t understand how such a thing could be possible. How did they get there? Like you, traveling in light?”

“No, by machine. They flew an aircraft.” She lifted her arms to make wings. “It’s how I got to England. I flew in an airplane across the Atlantic. It took seven hours.”

“Surely you cannot be correct. You traveled across the Atlantic Ocean in less time than it shall take us to get to London now.”

Nodding, she smiled. “I’m telling you the truth, Nick. I would never lie to you.”

“But…”

She patted his hand. “I know. Time. It’s only a present illusion. I’m sure in 2050, someone will hear about it taking seven hours to cross the Atlantic and laugh at such slow travel. Everything is speeding up, Nick. At least that’s the way it felt to me when I was living four hundred years from now. There was so much… to take in, to understand, to accomplish in what was feeling like a short time. We call that stress.” She again giggled. “I had to travel four hundred years back in time to learn to slow down, to smell the roses.” She stopped laughing and looked deeply into his eyes. “And when I did, I discovered love!”

It hit her like a thunderbolt from the sky.

What a great reason to drop out of the rat race!

She had been miserable trying to keep it all going… the house, the job, the marriage. She had driven herself almost crazy attempting to be Superwoman, and she couldn’t do it alone. The only way it could have ever worked was if she was with an equal partner, someone who shared her dreams and balanced out the load. But she had thought she needed the smart town house, the clothes carrying a prestigious label, the cars, TVs, VCRs, the designer furniture, the pedigreed dog, the prestigious job, the money to buy it all! She wanted the good life.

Didn’t everyone? Wasn’t that what life was about? Struggling against time to make it all happen? Damn, talk about stress! Time, a merchant’s invention, had been killing her!

“What is it, love? What startles thee so?”

She shook her head. “Nothing. I mean, I just didn’t see how foolish I had been, buying into someone else’s story again. Giving away my power. I guess I had to be startled, shocked into seeing what I was doing, and that’s part of the reason I’m back here. Not just to find you, Nick, but also to stop worrying and fighting time and just surrender to it and allow it to bring me the good life.” Touching his cheek, she smiled. “For there is no life better for me than right here with you, right now. It doesn’t matter what tomorrow brings, where I am, or how I live. No possession, no job, nothing is more important than what I am feeling with you now.”

He cupped her face between his hands and returned her smile with one of deep affection and love. “The universe is a wondrous place to have an adventure, is it not, Maggie Whitaker?”

“Who are you, Nicholas Layton?” she breathed in awe, not knowing if it was the energy of the stones or her own mind, expanding into something she wasn’t sure was possible. “This is magic.”

“This is life,” Nicholas answered with an even deeper grin. “This is a return to the garden, where everything seems like a miracle. Have thee not heard magic is natural in Heaven?”

“I’m in Heaven?” Even though he was smiling, Maggie was shocked by his words. “Have I died?” It was a possibility she hadn’t wanted to consider, one that terrified her.

He laughed, throwing his head back, and Maggie relaxed again.

“Ahh, my precious time traveler!” he said between remaining chuckles as he looked into her eyes. “Did you not hear me? I said this is life! This is the way life is supposed to be… joyous. Francis has been saying much die same to me for years, and it was not until I found thee that I began to understand that precious truth. What an angel you are!”

“Angel?” Now Maggie’s voice was filled with disbelief.

“Angels are messengers. I think we both have assisted each other with some remarkable messages since we have met.”

“We have, haven’t we?” She pondered it for a few moments. “Who would have thought? I’m in love with an angel.”

“As am I, my beloved. You expected wings?”

They both laughed until Maggie tapped his chest. “Elthea’s an angel, and Evan and my aunt Edithe and Malcolm and… and—”

“And everyone who has ever given us a message that we are more than what we’ve been told,” he finished her sentence. “Anyone who assisted us in remembering our angelic nature. How else would we know we could have Heaven on earth? Remember, we each were taught a different belief.”

What a miracle Aunt Edithe’s letter had been. That remarkable angel had saved her life. So she had to travel into the past to discover she needed to heal the present, just to stay alive? All she needed was a little faith and courage to live the adventure?

She burst into laughter.

And laughter… oh yes! All she had needed was faith there was land beyond the sea, courage to keep going forward and laugh at her fears. Aunt Edithe had been right. Everything is evolving at exactly the right time.

She was with the love of her life, having a private lunch at Stonehenge, waking up from a nightmare of stress and learning to trust herself now. Not a bad gig!

She burst into chuckles, and said, “Give me a piece of paper.”

Nick had been watching her, seeing the many different expressions cross her face, and his heart expanded with love. He would know her in any time, any place, as his beloved. He felt blessed that she was so lovely, intelligent, courageous with the most capacity for love that he had ever imagined. He wished in his heart that he had the means to treat her as a queen, as was her right. This was a woman of incredible faith in love and deserved the best life could offer. An angel who had come back into his life to remind him that joy was also his birthright.

He reached for his journal. Withdrawing a blank page, he handed it to her. “Shall I get the quill?”

She shook her head and smiled as she held the paper in her hand. “I don’t need this written, you already know it.”

He watched as she placed the paper on her lap and, using her finger, pretended to be writing…

“I love you now,” she whispered as her nail traced the letters. “I love you forever.”

He smiled, seeing her pleasure and she began folding the paper. “Infinity,” he whispered.

“Now, watch,” she said, as she continued to fold the paper into more angles.

“What are you making?” he asked, fighting the desire to pull her back into his arms. He had never wanted to touch a woman more, to feel the texture of her skin, the scent of her hair, the warmth of her body. But it was more, he knew… It was the connection they had made beyond the physical senses. It was the reconnection with eternal love.

“You’ll see,” she stated, and giggled as she concentrated on her folds.

When she finished, Nick saw that she was holding something that looked like a bird, something with wings. “What is it?”

She turned to look at him and his heart expanded with awe. What he saw reflected back to him took his breath.

“It’s an airplane,” she said, looking very pleased with herself. “A paper airplane.”

“An air plane?” he asked, confused, yet chuckling at her excitement.

“Yes, this is just a model, a poor model, of the one I flew in for seven hours to reach England. Now, watch this.” She tugged on his sleeve and spoke to his heart.

“We are bound together now…” And she pulled back her arm and flung the paper model out into the air.

He watched in fascination, as she whispered, “And wherever we land.”

He sat in awe as the wind caught the paper and took it higher, only to dip and glide above the tall grass. It was magnificent! “How is that done?”

“I didn’t really do it, Nick,” she said, giggling at his pleasure and hugging his arm between her breasts. “The material was already here. I just applied a bit of ingenuity and energy to it to allow it to soar. That’s us,” she proclaimed with a nod. “Out there… soaring.”

“We’ve just landed,” he said with jolt of disappointment as he watched the model crash into the earth.

“Well that does happen, love.” Maggie put her head on his shoulder.

He felt something stab his chest, as though when he saw the paper crash it had stabbed him in the heart. It was foolish, he reminded himself, lowering his head and inhaling the scent of the wondrous woman who clung to him. He was experiencing Heaven on earth right then and refused to allow an invasion of worry.

“Thou art the most remarkable human being I have ever met,” he said with sincerity.

She chuckled. “I’m not remarkable, Nick. Far from it. I can’t explain why that paper plane flew. I don’t have the technical knowledge about thrust and Newtonian physics. I just know it does. Your friend Francis would probably be able to figure it out. Now, there’s a remarkable person.”

“Thou art remarkable to me, Maggie Whitaker,” he said, studying her lips. “And I love thee with my life. I shall honor thee always, in everything I do.” He didn’t know if she truly understood the depth of his love. “One day I shall write a sonnet about it,” he whispered.

“You already have,” she said in a low voice. “I just read it.”

“It is understood? We are one.”

“Yes, Nicholas Layton. I don’t need a wedding or some official to pronounce it legal in the eyes of God. I have never felt more in the eyes of God than in this moment, and I vow to be your beloved forever. I want no other mate.”

He felt his eyes filling with emotion and tried to swallow it down. “I am filled with gratitude, and I, too, vow to want no other. I have always loved thee, I love thee still, I always will, my precious one.”

“Then let’s spit on it,” she said, holding out her hand and grinning.

He laughed at her antics. She wanted a ritual after all. “Spit on it?”

“Yes. You know, to seal the deal.” Her almost childish delight was precious.

Nodding, Nick held out his palm and barely spit.

Maggie followed suit.

“Wherever, however, forever,” she whispered with all seriousness.

How he adored her. “Wherever, however, forever,” he repeated, and shook her hand.

They grinned at each other and then sealed their deal, and their fates.

“You may think of me as your husband, madam. And as soon as we get to London, I shall place a ring upon your finger so all others may know.”

She pumped his hand again. “Deal. You may think of me as your wife, sir. And if you lend me some money until I figure out how to earn some of my own, I shall buy you an identical gold band so all these unmarried ladies don’t swoon over you and make plans to marry you.”

He threw back his head and laughed. How precious she was! Picking up the piece of cloth that had wrapped their repast, he chuckled, and said, “Here, give me your hand,” and wiped hers with it. “My angel has a spark of jealousy, hmm?”

She took the cloth and wiped her other hand with it, then playfully threw the cloth to his chest. “Do not even attempt to tell me you were not aware that Lady Marjorie was all but throwing herself into your lap at that betrothal dinner!”

“I had eyes for none but thee, wife.” He laughed as he wiped his own hands.

“Hmm…” Maggie said, and looked at him slyly. “Well, I can’t blame her for trying, but it would be very nice to have a ring on your finger that stated you are committed.”

“Anyone who sees me knows, Maggie. Even Robert was most suspicious. I cannot hide this love, nor, will I ever try.” It was the truth. He no more knew how to conceal what he was feeling than to fly in one of her airplanes.

“Let me retrieve your model. I want you to show me how it’s done,” he said, standing.

She stood with him and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. “Okay, you can play for a few minutes. You go get the plane, and I’ll clean up our mess here.” She kissed his chin. “Don’t want to piss off the Druids, ya know?”

He joined her laughter. “This has been the most delightful interlude, my love. I shall treasure the memory. But thou art correct; we have stayed here longer than I thought we would.”

She placed both hands to his face, each palm resting upon one of his cheeks. “Thank you, thank you, thank you, Nicholas Layton. It has been a magical time. I feel… healed somehow.”

Her eyes seemed to pull him inside of her, illuminating her soul, and he was stunned by the brilliance of what he saw. It was the future! He could see himself, staring into her frightened eyes, and he was so shocked he immediately blinked to stop it. “Thou art my treasure,” he whispered, smiling. “I’ll get thy creation and we shall fly it for Francis.”

“Or, you can stay right here. I can make another,” she stated, smiling at him with a very challenging smile.

“Are you flirting with me, my luscious, unpredictable wife?” he asked in a voice that could not hide his pleasure. He pulled her closer and her breasts crushed against him.

Her beautiful eyes widened, and her brows arched in feigned innocence. “Why, my lord Nicholas,” she cried with a coy smile and pushed away from him, only to surprise him by bowing before him and adding, “If I have startled you, I beg your forgiveness. I am but a mere woman who is learning precedence, preferment, and attainder. I can only—”

“You shall pay for this, Maggie Whitaker,” he interrupted with a laugh, immediately reminded of the night in her chamber when they had not just clashed wills but began to recognize each other.

“Is my back erect?” she muttered without looking up.

Laughing, he said, “Oh, rise.”

“I’m practicing. Gotta get used to the customs of this place if I’m gonna fit in.”

He held out his hand and waited for her to look up. Moments passed, and when she finally raised her head and looked at him, Nick found his breath caught in the back of his throat. She looked so happy!

“I love you,” he whispered, as she placed her hand in his.

“That’s why I’m thanking you. You’re some angel, Nickie.” She must have seen how startled he was, for she quickly added, “Now go play with the airplane for a few moments. We have a future to ride into… places to see, angels to meet, history to write… whatever. I’m ready.”

“Aye, m’lady time traveler.” With a kiss on her adorable nose, he left her and headed for the model lying in the tall grass. As his boots crushed the thin stems, he smiled to himself and thought how Francis was going to fall in love with his wife. What a fortunate man he was to have fallen for the woman who had shown him that once his eyes were opened, angels really did exist and they appeared in their own form, which is the human form. He looked forward to speaking with Francis on this weighty philosophical subject. He had so much to look forward to now… life with his beloved.

As he bent down to pick up the paper model, he resolved also to focus more on his writing. He knew through Francis that theatrical performances were profitable. He was learning his craft from a master and now he had the inspiration, his own muse. How much more fortunate can a writer be, to be married to his muse? He had only to live with the woman to receive inspiring information. He heard Francis’s voice in his head, reminding him over and over… A message is accepted more readily in entertainments than anywhere else. We communicate with words. Use the words and the truth will be recognized.

Holding the airplane in his hands, he thought… I shall write our story of angels. Some will hear my message, and I shall provide for my lady with every—

His thoughts immediately ceased as he felt an imperceptible rumbling beneath his feet. Looking up to the crest of the hill, he saw three riders, and immediately his heart began racing.

“Maggie!” He shouted her name and watched as she dropped his journal back onto the stone where they had been sitting. Running back, he yelled, “Get to the horses!”

She seemed stunned and didn’t move as she stared at him with frightened eyes.

“Mount up,” he yelled, yet she was still staring at him with horror upon her face.

Her hands reached out to him, grasping, as though he were fading before her eyes!

“Nick! Hurry!” she yelled, looking terrified.

His heart clenched in fear.