To Eternity (18 page)

Chapter 25

“Thank you, Cradoc.” He accepted the box from the goldsmith who gave him a small bow.

“The honor is mine to make a piece to grace the throat of your lady.”

Magnus nodded and opened the box. He inhaled, struck by the beauty of the setting. The design of the amulet, reminiscent of the one his mother wore, also had new elements, tendrils of gold wrapped like a shimmering caress around the stone. “Sian will be happy with this, I'm certain.”

“Will you be needing more next year, sir?”

He shook his head. “There is no thought of young, not yet, not for some time.”

“Very well, inform me or my son when there is, sir. We will make sure another nugget is available for use to make suitable items.”

“Ever thoughtful as have been all you kin, Cradoc. I will contact you should Sian and I need to welcome infants.” He closed the lid on the box and put it in his top pocket. He left the tiny workshop at the base of mountain where a waterfall spluttered down in graduated drops.

On the drive back to the cottage, he dwelt on the jewel Cradoc had made for the most beautiful mate any male had ever had. Sian had grown and developed so fast it took his breath. He'd helped her all he could. His desire she should make her first transformation with this coming full moon had seemed too much to ask, at first. But three days on, his certainty she would be ready and their bond celebrated, had become more than a hope.

Though she'd not questioned him about it, he could sense her disquiet. Although they lay wrapped in each other's arms each night, they hadn't made love. Nor could they until they bonded and mated in wolf form twelve nights from tonight. Each day without the joy of her body would seem twice as long as normal, but he would not interrupt the process of her changing, nor take the risk if she were satiated with him in her woman form, she'd not find him the mate she wanted as a wolf.

Tradition said they should wait. Even though it might be uncomfortable, he would do nothing to alter any aspect to their bonding ritual. All her other appetites could and would be catered for. When she transformed for the first time, she'd be ready to mate, if not yet breed, and he'd be waiting to fulfill her every desire.

A thrill shot through him at the prospect of a full bonding with her, of seeing her as a wolf for the first time, of discovering her scent and making her all his own.

His for eternity.

A prickle of sensation between his shoulders interrupted his joy. He glanced into the rearview mirror. A large four by four, black with tinted windows, trailed him. There was nothing odd about an off-road style vehicle following him along the country road, yet his senses screamed to beware.

He continued driving until he reached the turnoff to the single-track lane leading into the hills where the cottage stood. Indicating as late as he could, he turned into the lane and kept his view on the mirror. The black car crossed the top of the lane on the main road. He sighed. All this with Sian, perfect as he'd hoped, had made him defensive. Of course, it had. Any new bonded male was protective of his mate.

He parked the car, and eager to see if she remained well, as well as show her the jewel, he took the box containing her amulet into the house. She should have it now. He'd thought to perhaps make some kind of ceremony of it, but decided against the idea. Sian had claimed the stone from the cairn. Nothing else was needed; the jewel was hers by right. The stone's setting had nothing to do with the power of the crystal, merely enhancing by the offer of a beautiful backdrop to a powerful physical representation of her courage and ability.

“Hello,” he said as he opened the door. She didn't lie on the couch in front of the wide hearth. Upstairs perhaps?

“Magnus!”

He strode through to the kitchen.

Sian stood at the table. Flour splattered over the tabletop. White flecks clung to her elbows and apron.

“What are you doing? Why aren't you lying down?” He wiped a pale smudge off her cheek.

“I'm making Beef Wellington. The beef was in the freezer, the pastry, too. I'll be five minutes. I've just got to seal the pastry. After that, the dish is ready to rest. I'll put it in the fridge, and it can go in the oven later.” She brushed a dab of flour off her cheek with the back of her hand. “Don't look so surprised. I can't leave you to cook everything while we're here.”

“Very well, I'll wait until you have finished your task. I'll make tea. Once you've washed your hands, I can show you the amulet.”

Her eyes widened a fraction. “Of course, I thought I'd have this finished before you returned. Five minutes or less. Yes, tea would be great.” A softness appeared in her expression. “I want so much to see the stone again.”

“And you shall. I'll leave you to get on with the Beef Wellington. I'll make us a pot of tea.” He moved across to the counter where he filled the kettle with water. Sian clattered the pastry board on the table.

When the delicate fragrance of tea rose from the steaming pot, she came to stand beside him. “I've only to wash my hands and I'm ready.”

“Cups today, not mugs,” he said.

“Mmm.”

“Go sit at the dining table. I'll bring the tray in. Would you like biscuits?”

She shook her head.

He finished putting cups, saucers, sugar bowl, and milk jug on the tray, then added a small plate of delicate shortbread, too. The water added to the pot, he took the loaded tray in his hands, following Sian out of the kitchen into the main room of the cottage.

Her gaze lifted as he set the tea tray down. A lump settled in the base of his stomach for she looked tired with dark shadows beneath her eyes. The green depths dazzled brilliantly, but not with a healthful glow. No, she looked stressed, on edge, as though she'd forced herself beyond her current limit. He reached for her hand. “Tea?”

“You're upset?”

“Yes.” He poured a cup for her, added a little milk and one sugar lump. “I'm concerned you are pushing yourself too hard.”

“I can't leave everything for you to do,” she whispered.

“Sometimes, stubbornness can be the cause of a great many trials.”

A rosy flush colored her cheek. “You think I am stubborn?”

“Yes, and presently it can do you no good. You have so much strength, but at times, misapply the quality, as in today's situation.”

Sian sipped her tea. “I don't think I misapplied anything.”

“I'm aware of that. You do know you are undergoing a rare and important process, yes?”

She squeezed his fingers tight and nodded.

“Yet despite this, you feel you must work in the kitchen like any cook I could hire for a few pounds. Now, do you see what I mean?” He held her gaze. “I want you to rest, to relax so this process makes the least demands possible on you.”

“I'm not very good at being idle,” she said, taking another sip of her tea.

He gave a low laugh. “Idle? Don't underestimate all going on in your body. I'm trying to ensure you are physically safe throughout the process and don't suffer.”

“I know. I promise I'll go upstairs after I've drunk this. I'll sleep until it's time for dinner. Please,” she whispered over the rim of her cup, “show me the stone?”

He went to the sideboard where he'd placed the parcel. Taking one of the red roses from the display there, he carried the flower and the box back to her. “Sian,”—he shook his head at her teary eyes—“you are overwrought.”

She sniffed. “No, it's that I want you so much. I want to be your mate.”

He set the parcel down in front of her, the flower beside it. “The amulet is yours as it should be. Look at it, please.”

Seconds ticked by as he waited for her to lift the lid of the box. His certainty she would approve the design quelled his fears. He watched her every move, each muscle on her face, and his love rolled though him like a ceaseless tide.

“Oh.”

He knelt beside her at the gentle murmur. “It is yours and will be yours forever.”

She reached to touch the stone in its setting. So determined, so strong, yet she was as fragile as the flower next to the box. “Please, will you go to rest now?”

She closed her eyes.

He counted to ten before her dark lashes lifted.

“I think I need to sleep.”

Determined to make sure she did as she'd said, he lifted her from the chair. She trailed her hand toward the amulet. He clutched her tight and took the box, too. “I want you whole and perfect as I know you can be. I'll not leave you alone again until you are—”

“Shh.” She pressed her lips to his. “I will be well,” she whispered. “I have my stone now.”

“More than that.” He squeezed her tight. “You have me. You will always have me.”

“For eternity?”

“Longer if you wish.” He pressed a kiss to her lips and carried her up the stairs as she rested her head against his shoulder.

He should have guessed. Every day of the process had seemed so easy, too easy. Possibly because her desire to become like him masked the depth of her body's effort, he'd not seen all he should. Until today. From now on, he'd be far more careful of her. “Beef Wellington, indeed.” He shook his head.

“It will be glorious.”

“Mediocre at best if I cook it. I have a poor hand for pastry.”

Her gaze met his. “But you do so many other things so well.” She pressed a kiss to his lips and another to his cheek. “My necklace is beautiful, truly the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. I'll wear it when I get up.”

“Yes. Wear it when you wake and every day thereafter.”

Chapter 26

The automatic black gates swept open. Magnus drove up to the house and parked the Range Rover by the portico. “Happy we are back here?”

“Yes, aren't you?” She studied his face and discovered from her inner sense he didn't feel any warmth in this homecoming. “This isn't a prison, Magnus, not any more. The house won't cage either of us. There will be no need.”

He gave a sigh.

“It's not like it once was.” She put her hand on his arm. “You won't be alone and we have agreed on how we will hunt.”

“Yes, but I don't know if such an agreement will hold water with the wolf.”

She laughed because a surge of energy swept through her, strong enough to challenge his doubts. “We will have to wait and see, but I am certain I am right.”

“Ah, how I admire your certitude.” He leaned across to kiss her.

An instant flame of longing burned at his least touch, and the kiss left her shaking. The surge of desire through her loins screamed for him to satisfy her hunger. “If you continue, you'll have me begging for more, which is hardly fair. There are still days to go.”

“Another four days. Tomorrow we will be focused on the garden.”

“And Martha Raynalds,” she snapped.

“I will cancel the appointment if you wish.”

She had no doubt he would do if she asked, but if she pushed him to it, she knew she'd regret forcing the issue. The exchange of emotion between them, the ever present sense of him within her, even down to basic day-to-day needs, still took some managing. The issue between them regarding Martha Raynalds brewed like a storm cloud covering the sun. “I don't want you to cancel seeing her. I'll try not to be—”

“You have no need to feel anything other than happy the walled garden will become what it once was.” He reached out and caressed her cheek. “This time next week, you will know that for certain.”

“Forgive me. It's hard to deal with how I feel right this minute.”

“I know. I promise you no matter what I discover about the director of Green Girls, it will have no impact on us or our future together.”

A wave of concern backed up his spoken promise. The pettiness of her angst regarding this young woman from the gardening company shamed her. “I'll try to do some growing up, Magnus.”

He smiled. “Don't do it too fast.” He got out of the car and walked around to open her door for her. Funny how she always allowed him do so. She'd never permitted anyone else to open her door, but with Magnus it seemed as right today as it ever had. She slid out of the seat into his embrace, and couldn't stop her need to press as close as she could to his body when she accepted the kiss he offered. The desire for time to fly, to allow them to make love again, squished all her thoughts of Martha Raynalds.

“I know. I ache for you.” His warm breath brushed by her ear so she gave another shudder.

“This is pure torment.”

The expression in his eyes told his agreement but she knew he'd stick to the tradition he had explained. She couldn't imagine a time when she wouldn't want him, as a human or in wolf-form. His wolf had her heart already, but Magnus insisted they wait. A huge sigh broke as he stepped away from her embrace.

“I'll get the luggage. You go in.”

She turned and went into the portico. The front door opened. Mrs. Tyson stood waiting. The woman's gaze settled on the amulet where it hung against Sian's sweater, and she gave a smile. “Madam, welcome home.”

No longer Miss Sian. Tyson knew or understood at a basic level what the amulet symbolized. “Thank you, Mrs. Tyson. Magnus is bringing the luggage. Has everything been okay while we were away?”

“Yes, madam. Will you want dinner this evening?”

“Please, tell Cook something simple will do. Hmm, yes, steak and a little salad would be fine.”

“Very well, madam, I'll inform Cook. Shall I bring tea to the drawing room?”

“Thank you, yes.”

Tyson nodded and left.

Sian took off her jacket and hung it in the large walk-in cupboard. Magnus joined her to hang up his coat. “I ordered steak for dinner this evening,” she said.

He smiled. “A good choice. Cook knows to present it rare.”

“Mrs. Tyson is now calling me madam. Is that who I am?”

“Yes, it is. Next week we will see about making the title legal as well as permanent.”

“Marriage?”

“A formality surely. You expected it, didn't you?”

She shook her head. “The other process seemed much more important.”

“Yes, of course it does, because it is. You are my mate, my woman, my she. You will be my wife in the eyes of the world.” His eyes widened. “Should I have proposed earlier?”

“You might have asked,” she said with a grin.

He took her hand and bent on one knee smiling, his eyes alight with humor. “My perfect, Sian, I ask you to make me very happy by agreeing to become my wife, immediately.”

“Yes, Magnus. I will be your wife. I will be everything you ask of me.”

His expression grew serious as he kissed her hand and stood to embrace her. “I will cherish you and our love as the most precious things in my life. What kind of wedding do you want, and when?”

“Soon and quiet, just us.”

“Surely you'll want friends present. We will need witnesses, too.”

“I'll think about it after the full moon.”

“I demand you wear a wedding gown. There will be flowers and champagne. I have something very special in the cellar.”

“Truly, you want the traditional style of wedding?”

He smiled. “I want whatever will make you happy, but I am certain you will be stunning in a wedding gown. We can hold the wedding here in the ballroom. I do know the name of the local vicar, or we could use a registrar. We'll marry the week before Christmas.”

“I could invite a few people, Richard, Jess, and Evie, some of the staff I know well from work.”

“Not Mr. Gorsewell?”

She shook her head. “No, not unless things have changed by then.”

Magnus caressed her cheek. “I think things will have changed enough for him to attend our wedding quite safely. He must recognize me as his maker and you as my mate. You are as far above him as the stars. He will know it. When he witnesses our marriage, he fulfills his obedience to me, and in turn, to you as my mate.” He tucked her arm through his, then glanced at the coats hung around them. “Forgive me. This really isn't the most romantic spot for a proposal.”

She laughed. “I agree, but, Magnus, it doesn't matter. You see, being with you is more important to me than anything else in the world.”

He bent his head and kissed her.

When they parted, she stood with her arms about his neck. “I think we should go and have tea before we become too involved here.”

He smiled as he caressed a warm palm over her rear.

“Please, Magnus. I am suffering for you.”

“I know. You're not alone in your need. Tea before, as you say, we are tempted beyond all constraints.”

They moved in unison, steps matched as they walked out the door and down the corridor to the drawing room. The synchronization between them that Sian had found when they'd made love or in the moments after seemed to have become part of her, its powerful force as natural as breathing.

The love of the wolf, for the wolf, bound by a ceaseless energy from the life force in each of them, moved like a slow stirring in her core. His love, her love, his pain, hers, too, and everything else in the wide world of their existence would be shared.

A tea tray sat ready on the table in the drawing room. She sat and poured, then offered him a cup with the lemon he enjoyed and stirred a lump of sugar in hers. “Magnus, I want to concentrate on the full moon for the next few days rather than our wedding. Do you think it's right I should?”

“Yes. The wedding will be a celebration of our union. I'm glad you feel that way. The forming of our dynasty is very important.”

“Dynasty?”

“Eventually.” He sipped his tea. “However, I have every intention of purchasing an engagement ring for you next week. What would you like?”

She clutched the wrought gold amulet with her crystal inside. “This is all I need.”

“So I am at liberty to select anything I think appropriate?”

“I know you are teasing, but yes, you are. Please, don't buy anything big or ostentatious. I'd like something suitable to wear all the time.”

“I'll give it some thought.” He set his teacup down. “Would you care for a short walk?”

She smiled. She'd entertained the idea of looking again at the walled garden before tomorrow, and he'd picked up on it. “Yes. I think we'll need Wellingtons, but I'd like a walk.”

“We'll go look at the walled garden. I am sure we can think of some ideas to discuss tomorrow morning.”

“Perfect.” She set her cup down and they headed out to put on boots and coats.

Outside, she inhaled the rich fragrant air, the scent of pine strong from the woods, the combination from animals on the estate, too. Magnus put his arm around her shoulder, and together they strolled down the cinder pathway to the rear of the house, past the damaged section of the music room, farther along and up to where they could look down on the walled garden.

She took his hand in hers as she gazed at the small potting shed standing by one wall. The first time he showed her the garden, they'd made love in there. She sighed.

“Dearest, please stop thinking of sex.”

Her cheeks tingled with heat. “I'm sorry. I couldn't help but remember the shed.”

He gave a low laugh. “I agree, but please, try to think of something else.”

“Right, I'll think about the fruit trees.”

“Hmm, peaches. Soft, smooth, and juicy, with curves a perfect fit for my palm.”

“Magnus!”

His laughter echoed as he hugged her. “Soon. You're right about the fruit trees, too.”

“Glass house,” she murmured. “We need to talk to them about maintenance, irrigation, pest control. You'd have to have at least two gardeners. Maybe more.”

He leaned his chin on her shoulder and tightened his embrace, pulling her back against him. “Rather like an age gone by.”

“Not really. A lot of estates make money from their gardens. You could, too.”

“We could, but it's not necessary you know.”

She turned her head to brush her cheek against his. “But if the garden produces fruits and vegetables, then there would be far more than we could use. You couldn't allow all of it go to waste.”

“Hmm. Perhaps, as you suggested, we could find a ready market for produce. That's something else to discuss tomorrow.”

“Agreed. Oh, rain.” She blinked at the spatter of raindrops. “Back to the house. We'll end up soaked if we stay here.”

Magnus caught her hand and they turned together. She broke into a run, and though she was certain he slowed his paces to match hers, they raced back to the house and dived into the portico, dripping wet.

“I hope it's not like this the night of the full moon.” She shook her hair.

“It won't matter if it is. I promise you.” His smile met her gaze, and his eyes shone with the light of desire. “We will love together. Nothing could stop me wanting you.”

“Soon.”