Who Will Take This Man?

He set the instrument in her outstretched hand, then enjoyed her gentle ministrations. When she finished, he shrugged into his robe, then led her to stand in front of the fire, where he used the other warmed towel to dry her hair. When he finished, he stood in front of her, sifting his fingers through the long, dark, still slightly damp strands. She smiled up at him, a smile so filled with love and happiness, she dazzled him. “Would you mind terribly if I told you again that I love you?” she asked.

He frowned and pretended to give the question great thought. “Well, I suppose if you feel that you must…”

“Oh, I must.” Rising up on her toes, she looped her arms around his neck. “I love you, Philip.”

Pulling her tighter against him, he said, “I love you, too.”

Something flickered in her eyes, prompting him to ask, “What is it?”

“I was just thinking, do you think perhaps we might have… made a baby?”

The question stilled him. An image of her, large with their child, flashed in his mind. “I don’t know. But I do know the thought of you bearing our child…” His voice trailed off and he lowered his head to touch his forehead to hers. “The mere thought leaves me speechless with joy.”

She leaned back in the circle of his arms, her eyes dancing. “I can picture our son now. Strong and intelligent, with your kind eyes behind his spectacles, and your thick, dark hair.”

“And I can picture our daughter now,” he countered with a grin, “with your vivid coloring, determination, and generous spirit.” Taking her hand, he led her toward the bed. “What sort of wedding would you like? Something grand in St. Paul’s?”

“Actually, I’d prefer something simple. Perhaps here, in your home.”

“Then that is precisely what we shall have. I will arrange for a special license as soon as-”

His words cut off as she stumbled. Her hand slipped from his, and before he could catch her, she fell forward, landing on her knees, and breaking her fall with her palms. He dropped to his knees beside her and wrapped an arm around her shoulder, helping her to sit back on her heels.

“Are you all right?”

“Y-yes. I must have tripped on something.”

He glanced around, but no stray objects littered the floor, nor were there any bumps in the carpet. He was about to ask her if she felt able to stand when she groaned and pressed her fingers to her forehead.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, alarmed by her sudden pallor.

She squeezed her eyes shut and drew in a sharp breath. “My head. It hurts. Severely.”

He stared at her, a kernel of uneasiness knotting his stomach. A fall… then a headache… The words from the Stone of Tears reverberated through his mind.

For true love’s very breath

Is destined for death.

Grace will fall, a stumble she’ll take,

Then suffer the pain of hell’s headache.

If ye have the gift of wedded bliss,

She will die before you kiss.

Or two days after the vows are said,

Your bride, so cursed, shall be found dead.

Once your intended has been lo

Nothing can save her from

Bloody hell, what were the missing words to the curse? Could it be ‘Once your intended has been loved?’ His uneasiness turned into dawning, stunned horror. She’d fallen. And now was suffering a terrible headache. By proposing to Meredith, telling her he loved her, then making love to her, had he brought the wrath of the curse upon her? If not, then the fall and the headache immediately following were odd coincidences-and by God, he didn’t believe in coincidence. Especially when his gut tightened in this foreboding way.

She groaned again and everything inside him froze. No, this was no odd coincidence. Stark fear iced his veins at the horrible realization that he’d done exactly that- brought the wrath of the curse upon her-and had thereby sealed her fate.

Unless he found a way to break the curse-

She would die in two days.

Nineteen

Philip knelt beside Meredith, who pressed her hands against her forehead and moaned. He struggled to draw a breath and silence the agonized Noooooo! ricocheting through his brain. Her falling, the headache, the curse… this could not be happening. Not when they’d just found each other. Not when their future, only seconds ago, had bloomed so bright upon the horizon.

Bludgeoning back the talons of fear clawing at him, he hoisted her into his arms and carried her to his bed, where he yanked back the burgundy counterpane, then settled her gently upon the mattress. Her complexion was waxy pale, her features bunched into a pain-filled grimace.

“I’ve never had a headache such as this,” she whispered. “It feels as if the inside of my head is on fire and about to explode.”

Suffer the pain of hell’s headache. Philip tucked the covers around her, then sat next to her for a moment, holding her hand, and praying to every heavenly force he’d ever heard of to intervene. To save her. To help him find the missing piece of stone. Please, please, don’t take her away from me.

Leaning over, he brushed his lips against her brow. “I’m going to leave you for a moment to prepare a draught that will relieve the pain.”

He crossed to his wardrobe and pulled out a worn leather satchel. Digging through the contents, he extracted a small bottle of one of Bakari’s mysterious cures. Philip didn’t know exactly what was in the bottle, but he knew from experience that it was effective in relieving headaches. He quickly added several drops to a tumbler of fresh water, then returned to her.

“Drink this,” he said, helping her to sit up. After she swallowed the contents, he settled her back on the pillow.

She opened her eyes, and a wobbly half smile pulled up one corner of her lips. “I’m sorry, Philip. I didn’t mean to cast such a pall on our research.”

“Meredith, I’m afraid this is not an ordinary headache you’re suffering.”

“What do you mean?”

“The series of events this morning. We professed love for each other. I proposed, you accepted. We made love. Then you fell down, and now you have a headache.”

Understanding, along with confusion, dawned in her eyes. “The curse. But we’re not married.”

“The last two lines read, Once your intended has been lo and Nothing can save her from. I believe the ‘lo’ must be from ‘loved.’ You are my intended. I told you I love you. I made love to you. I’m afraid that by doing so, I unleashed the curse upon you.”

Her eyes widened with a combination of fright and disbelief. “Which means that in two days I’m going to… die?”

His stomach cramped into a painful knot at the question, and he pressed her cold hands between his. “It means that I only have two days to find the missing piece of stone and discover how to break the curse.”

“And if you cannot?”

They stared at each other for a long moment in silence, both knowing the frightening answer, one he simply could not verbalize. “I will not fail in this, Meredith. Your life depends upon my success, and nothing is more precious to me than your life.”