Kathryne Kennedy - Everlasting Enchantment

He also wanted nothing more than to drag her from this place and take her home with him, but he couldn’t be sure she would stay, unless he managed to bring Nell back to life. Such a slim hope to gamble his happiness upon.

Gareth stepped behind the bar, where Ambrose lay snoring atop an abandoned leather glove, and gently tapped on the door of Bran’s room.

The were-bear opened it with a growl. “Egads, man, do ye know what time it is?”

“Aye. The sun rose aboveground about an hour ago.”

“The sun rose…” The big man shook his head like a bear coming out of a long hibernation. His eyes widened as the implication of Gareth’s words seemed to sink in. “Ye saw the sun, lad?”

“For several weeks now.”

“How—when? Wait, come inside. We don’t want to wake the regulars.”

Gareth followed him into the storeroom, and took the same seat he had once before, atop a wooden crate full of bottles. “It’s why the bracelet did not tighten around Millicent’s wrist,” he said without preamble. “The curse had already been broken.”

Bran settled his bulk on another crate, the wooden slats bowing under the big man’s weight. “That’s a relief. The gel has done nothing but sulk. And start fights. Crikey, I hired her to stop them, ye know.” He scratched at his chest. “So, Millie’s love was strong enough to break yer curse after all?”

“Yes. But I’m not sure it’s strong enough to make her marry me.”

“Then why are ye here, if not to take the gel off my hands?”

Gareth’s gaze swung over to the low shelf Bran had pointed out before. “I came to get Nell’s ashes. I have a home now. A place where she can… rest in peace.” He couldn’t bring himself to tell Bran about his hopes to bring Nell back. It seemed a foolish proposition beneath Bran’s steady practicality.

“A home? Ye move fast, lad.”

“It’s a gift from the queen, in recompense for saving her from an ill-fated marriage. She told me to tell you she would like to reward you, as well.”

The were-bear’s heavy brows lifted in surprise. “Ye don’t say? Well, tell Her Majesty I have everything I need right here. It was an honor to do queen and Country a service, lad. It doesn’t come about too often, belowground.”

Gareth felt little surprise at Bran’s answer. He rose and took the bag of ashes from the shelf, stuffing it into the deep pocket of his new morning coat. Another change he had to become accustomed to. Different clothing. The queen had outfitted him with an entire new wardrobe of trousers, brocade waistcoats, velvet frock coats. He preferred his new boots over the pointy toes of his old ones, but missed his sword. Queen Victoria had deemed it quite out of fashion, but had come to his rescue by outfitting him with a bamboo cane that held a hidden blade inside.

Paper crackled and he pulled out Lady Roseus’s note. “I have a message for you.”

Bran’s face lit up and he quickly rose and splashed water on his face from a washbowl in the corner of the room.

“Aren’t you going to read it?”

“Not necessary,” replied Bran from behind the cloth he dried his face with. He quickly pulled on a shirt, boots, and a worn leather overcoat. “I can smell the scent on it from here.”

Gareth stepped aside as Bran stumbled past him.

“Where are you going?”

“Ain’t it obvious, mate? When duty calls, I do not delay in answering. It will be a few hours before the regulars wake.” And with that, Bran opened the door and left the pub.

Gareth stood for a moment, only the soft sounds of a little snoring sprite breaking the silence.

He should leave as well. Return to Hobover House with Nell’s remains.

But he could feel her. So near.

He had hurt her when he’d demanded she give him the bracelet.

She had been furious when it had not tightened about her wrist.

Now was not the time to explain everything to Millicent. He hoped to have Nell’s rebirth as an assurance for his proposal.

Gareth threaded his way through the tables again, stopped at the entrance to the hall that led to her room. He could not be sure if she would welcome him. But he did not have the willpower to be this close… without touching her.

Gareth took a breath, strode to her room, and opened the door.

She lay on her pallet, hidden in her were-form, the glossy fur of her panther blending with the dark night. He knelt next to her, laid his hand on her velvet head, and Millicent shifted to human. Gareth smiled in triumph. If nothing else, he had tamed her beast.

Millicent turned her head, her face haloed within a square of fairylight filtering through the small window next to her bed. Her skin glowed like porcelain, like fresh-fallen snow. Her dark lashes fluttered and her mouth parted on a sigh.

Gareth reacted without thought. He leaned down and pressed his lips against hers.

The scent of windblown moors replaced the sour smell of ale that permeated the rest of the tavern. He gloried in the taste of her. Stronger than wine. Sweeter than honey.

In his time, he would have composed poems about her.

The hell with this modern age. He would do so anyway.

Her lips moved beneath his and he deepened the kiss, until her arms stole around his shoulders and his heart fluttered in joy. In triumph. Millicent might never be sure of her feelings, but her body knew what she wanted.

Gareth shed his overcoat, his coat, his waistcoat. He had not lost the skill of removing his clothing without breaking the kiss, despite no longer being cursed. Millicent’s hands fluttered about his shoulders, tugged at the knot of his cravat. She wore a gown of soft cotton, the fabric so thin in places he could feel the heat of her skin beneath. Gareth smoothed his palms over the curve of her breasts, and she purred.

He pulled up her skirts, ran his hands up her muscled leg, along the sweet jut of her hipbone.

Millicent fumbled at the buttons of his shirt, managed to open it enough to smooth her hands along his chest. Her touch set Gareth on fire. Alas, how she managed to heighten his senses, to bring his body to a level of excitement he had never experienced before.

He must have her. He would do anything to win her. Gareth pressed closer, claimed her tongue with his in a dance that mimicked his intent. Millicent clutched his shoulders in a possessive grip. He touched her. Touched her wet heat, her silky folds, and she arched against his hand.

He delved deeper. Deeper, until she squirmed beneath him. Until she growled with need.

In one smooth motion, Gareth slid his body over hers and kissed her entrance with his swollen flesh. Then gently, slowly, filled her with his need, with his desire. With his love.

Millicent arched back her head, breaking their kiss, exposing the smooth white curve of her throat. Her harsh gasps sounded loud in the tiny room. He ran his tongue over the creamy skin, relishing the salty-sweet taste of her.

Gareth ground his pelvis against hers.

You are mine. Whether you choose to acknowledge it or not, you are mine. But I will have more than your body. I will have your heart. The whole of it. Not just the damaged bits and pieces.

Millicent began to shake. The tremor ran from her center and spread through her limbs as her release overtook her. And Gareth’s body responded to her pleasure, but his own release did not spread like a wave. It imploded inside of him, shattering his senses in a burst of ecstasy, making spots of light dance before his eyes.

He stilled, gathered his wits about him, and pulled away from her. Then sat for a moment with his head bowed in his hands.

She mewed. Some soft, sad noise that made him want to return to her. It would be so easy to stay. To tell her she had freed him, that her love had been strong enough after all. She would believe his words with her head… but he could not be sure if she would believe it in her heart. And he had a chance to make Millicent whole. He could tell her about his plans, about his hopes to bring Nell back. But if it did not work… no. He could not risk it. The disappointment might destroy her.

Gareth rose, dressed, and left as quietly as he had entered.

He did not look back at Millicent, nor did she make another sound to try to make him stay.

Perhaps she too understood that words were meaningless between them now.

He ran into the guard Bran had placed at the door during the tavern keeper’s absence. The man half shifted to jackal before he recognized Gareth, then moved aside. Gareth strode through the city like a blind man, his hand in his pocket around the bag of Nell’s ashes. He got lost several times on his way out of the tunnels, his mind distracted with thoughts of Millicent.

And ran into Bran at the top of Lady Roseus’s stairway. They stared at each other in silence for a few moments.

“You should marry her,” said Gareth.

Bran grinned. “I plan to… if she’ll have me.” He shuffled his feet, stuck his hands deep in his pockets. “And what about my Millie?”

“If she’ll have me.”

“We are a fine pair, old chap.”

Gareth grinned back at him. He suddenly felt lighter, as if his task wasn’t as impossible as he thought it might be. If a gruff bear could somehow manage to make a timid flamingo fall in love with him…

“Well, then.” Bran stepped to the side and they passed each other on the stairway.

Gareth did not see Lady Roseus as he strode through her house. Just the footman, who called for the carriage Gareth had left waiting. It had come with Hobover House. Indeed, he had several conveyances provided with his new estate. This coach had been kept up particularly well, with a coat of fresh varnish and smoothly oiled wheels. He ducked through the door and made himself comfortable, for he had a lengthy journey ahead of him to return to Ipswitch… and only Nell’s ashes, and memories of his encounter with Millicent, to keep him company.

Millicent had closed her eyes for what she thought had been just a moment, a delicious feeling of lassitude overwhelming her. And then she heard the door to her little room snick shut. She sat up with a start, blinking in the gloom. He had left her. After making love to her until she was so exhausted she’d fallen asleep, he’d just walked out without a word.

She glanced around the room in confusion. Perhaps she had only dreamed of him?

But she now felt fully awake. She could smell sour ale, could feel her hard pallet beneath her. She was still in the Swill and Seelie, where she had wallowed in misery for weeks. Her surroundings were too painfully real.

As real as the gentle ache from Gareth’s lovemaking.

Millicent hugged her shoulders. No, it had not been a dream. He had come to her. Had made love to her like a man starved for affection. Yet he had asked her to give him the relic…

She had thought it had been his way of saying good-bye.

For the last few weeks she had resumed her old life once again, determined to forget him. But she couldn’t. A head of blond hair would set her heart racing, and then plummeting to earth when she realized it wasn’t him. She would dream of him night after night… of his goodness, his courage, his gentle touch.

Millicent eavesdropped on every conversation she could, trying to find out what had happened to him after that fateful day. Talk flowed about the battle between Queen Victoria and the Duke of Ghoulston. The patrons of the pub relished the tales of Ghoulston’s blindness and eventual madness. But no one mentioned her enchanted knight.

Millicent dropped her arms. She knew the queen had taken him to Buckingham, but after that, Gareth seemed to have disappeared from aboveground. She feared the Master had taken the relic to the Hall, and trapped Gareth inside it forever.

But her knight had come to her. Somehow. Someway. And he still needed her. She had felt it in his kiss, with his every touch.

And she had promised she would never forsake him again.

Millicent surged to her feet. How dare that piece of metal try to tell her she wasn’t good enough for him? That her love wasn’t strong enough? So—so she couldn’t break the spell… who knew what sort of torture Merlin had intended with his curse? Perhaps he wanted to deny Gareth any happiness at all, and despite their different natures, she knew she could make him happy.

Her anger at having someone—or something— other than herself determine her fate, did what no persuasion could have. It made Millicent look at herself in a new light.