“We’re expecting a crush this weekend with the auction,” Mary said. “There are a couple other rooms available that would be less…well, out of the way of our tours and the hallway traffic.”
“Oh, no, that’s all right. We’ll be fine.” Mikah took the key and turned away, pushing Kris toward a connecting door that led to the armory.
“Don’t you need directions to your room?” the clerk called.
“Nope, I’m good.”
“Pushy much?” Kris complained as she drove him into the armory. His brows shot to his hairline as he took in the thousands of firearms and weapons displayed in patterns on all four walls of the room and on the ceiling as well. “Wow, I wonder who’s for dinner?”
Mikah laughed at that, thankful to feel some of the tension sliding away. She’d gotten a little shaken on the cab ride to the castle. When they passed under the arched aqueduct and the castle came into view, she’d been disappointed to find that the wide lawns that once sported the tidy English hedgerows she remembered were gone. The wide pool and fountain stood alone.
A huge new wing at the south end of the castle also surprised her. At least that explained how the castle was able to function as a hotel. There’d been only ten bedchambers before, if one counted the nursery.
Or had there been?
The differences between what she remembered and what she saw confused Mikah almost to the point that she hadn’t wanted to stay at all. Kris’d had to pry her out of the cab.
The armory, thankfully, didn’t seem to have changed at all, restoring her to her previous calm…or the closest she’d been to it since her five drinks on the plane. They walked through the library while Krisoohedandaahedover the room.
Though the weaponry remained, the room had been stripped of most of its furnishings. Torn between the familiar and the alien, Mikah sucked in her breath at the familiar sight of the oval staircase in the Great Hall. Slowly she climbed, running her hand over the rail as she went. She remembered dashing down those stairs with Ian and could almost hear the sound of an orchestrion playing. Hear his laughter echo through the hall; see his ghostly form disappear around the columns.
“You all right?” Kris whispered, taking her hand.
“Yes, but I’m so glad you’re here. I don’t think I could do this alone.”
“You wouldn’t have even gotten on the plane.”
He squeezed her hand as they reached the top, and Mikah automatically turned right toward the marchioness’s chamber, the one they now called the Lady’s Chamber. She slowed and she instead walked into the Long Drawing Room, with the Picture Room straight ahead. The walls were bare, stripped of the dozens of paintings she remembered. Saddened, she turned to the left and went through the connecting door to the Blue Drawing Room. There was but a quarter of the furniture there she remembered, but looking up she found the rondels as she remembered them, with the muses and their seductive smiles.
Feeling a bit better, she told her friend about lying on their backs to see them and pointed out the erotic nature of the paintings. Laughing, they returned to the hall to go to their room, but on the other end of the landing she could see the doors to the Round Drawing Room standing open as if they were calling to her.
Was it all just a coincidence? Or was it really a memory? She couldn’t decide if she wanted to believe in this whole past life bullshit or not.
Then inspiration struck and she realized there was one way to be certain. One thing in this castle could tell her whether she was truly the reincarnation of Hero Conagham or just a woman flirting on the edge of madness.
With purpose, she led Kris to her chamber door and inserted the key. Turning the knob, she opened the door and was overwhelmed by a sense of home. Unlike most of the other rooms, this chamber remained largely untouched. Of course the linens and most of the upholstery weren’t the same, but the furnishings were, and the colors were similar to those she remembered.
Dropping her bag on the bed, she slowly unwound her scarf and turned to the fireplace. Her palms grew damp as she studied the little carvings of flora and fauna that covered the elaborate mantel. If she were truly Hero, that little compartment would still be there. If it wasn’t, Mikah knew she’d have to accept all over again that it’d all been nothing but a dream.
Running her hands over the flowers, she shook her head, recalling her first sight of Ian. Torn between Mikah and Hero’s thoughts, they shared the same one then. And from that point on. There wasn’t a man on earth who could make her feel like that just by looking at her.
Looking back at the bed, she imagined Ian there, his bronze skin contrasting with the white sheets, smiling at her as if the sun rose and set on her. Blinking away the burn behind her eyelids, she pinched her nose between her fingers to ward off the tears she knew were coming again.
Did it matter if he were real or only a dream? Either way, he was lost to her. Either way, she’d experienced a magical, intense love that was gone. She knew the story and how it ended. There was nothing more for her. Not even in her dreams.
On the other hand, there was something to be said for knowing that ithadbeen real at some point. That the love of a lifetime had been real for someone, if not her.
Mikah’s hand dropped to her side. Which option was worse? Only dreaming of a moment with a perfect man, or knowing beyond a doubt that you’d had him and lost him forever?
“Nice room.” Unaware of her thoughts, Kris wandered around to take a peek into the dressing room. “Nice bathroom. I can’t wait to use that tub.”
He came back into the room to find her at the fireplace. “Uh, damage control to Major Tom. What are you doing?”
“It won’t move.” Mikah twisted at the flowers in the combination with no success. “They’ve been painted over and won’t budge.”
“Well, this place is hundreds of years old.”
Rolling her eyes, she turned and retrieved the room key and began to scrape away at the edges, but he stopped her. “Whoa, there! What are you doing?”
