door behind her and fixed the chain.
“Nothing. I’m just being careful.”
Ceecliff divested herself of her lightweight coat and dropped her handbag and shopping bags on a chair. “Have you locked Nicholas in or out?”
“Out. Oh, Granny-” Jo threw herself into the older woman’s arms.
“You haven’t called me that since you were quite tiny, Joey,” Ceecliff murmured gently. “My goodness, look at you. If you cry like that, you’ll dissolve, child.” She led Jo to the sofa and pulled her down beside her. “Best let all the tears out first, then you can tell me everything.”
It was eight-thirty when Ceecliff opened the front door to Nick. She smiled at him and gave him her cheek to kiss, then, taking his hand, she led him into the living room. “Joey is in the kitchen, Nicholas, fixing us some paella, so we can talk in here.”
Nick put the bottle of wine he was carrying on the coffee table and sat down obediently. “I thought I might not be coming here again,” he said slowly. “I had arranged to go back to the States this afternoon.”
“Running away is not going to solve anything.” Ceecliff sat down on the edge of the sofa beside him. She reached forward and took his hands in hers. “That’s why I called you. Joey told me everything this evening. The whole story.”
“Including what I did to her last night?”
“Including everything.” She gave a small wistful smile. “Nicholas, amid all your problems, your anguish and your fear for Jo and for yourself, has it ever crossed your mind to acknowledge the fact that your spirit, the kernel of life inside you that is the essential you, has loved one woman for eight hundred years? That is some love story, Nicholas, and the way Jo tells it, it sounds as if there are three of you who have been given a second chance to redeem the mistakes you made all those years ago. A chance to fulfill your love, Nicholas, not repeat the terrible mistakes you made before. A chance for your brother, if he was this dreadful man, William, to prove he isn’t a coward any longer, and for Richard-” She shrugged. “I don’t know what Richard did, except perhaps grow old. But maybe there is to be another chance somewhere for him as well.”
“You don’t really believe all this?”
“Wait, I haven’t finished.” Ceecliff tapped him on the knee reprovingly. “I know nothing about psychology, or this frightening hypnosis business, but it does cross my mind that your brother has been practicing some kind of mental isometrics on you. He is using your resistance and your fear to fight yourself, within yourself.” She paused, searching his face gravely for a reaction. “Have you thought of admitting to yourself that you were once another man? That that man made some terrible errors, for which his soul has lived in torment, and that a kind, not a vengeful, deity has given him the chance, through you, to make amends?”
Nick let out a deep breath. “No, I hadn’t thought about it that way.”
Ceecliff laughed. “You can say I’m gaga if you like, but I haven’t lived nearly eighty years without learning something. And one of the things I’ve learned is that anything is possible, Nick. Why do you think you met Jo? It cannot have been coincidence.”
“Sam introduced us.”
“Perhaps that act was his first step on his own road to salvation.”
“Perhaps.” Nick looked skeptical. “Look, Ceecliff, I’m sorry, I’d love to believe this, I really would-but I can’t.” He stood up and began pacing up and down the carpet.
“But you do believe in your brother’s power over you?” Ceecliff looked up at him, not moving from the sofa.
He stopped. “I’ve had proof of that.”
“And you have had proof that your love for Joey is stronger than his evil intent. You nearly hurt her, Nicholas. You had it in your power to hurt her, even to kill her last night, but you didn’t actually do it.” She reached up toward him. “You were ungentle and ungentlemanly.” She gave him a smile. “But you did not actually harm her, did you?”
Nick shook his head slowly.
“You could have forced her to tell you her story to the end last night, Nick. You could have forced her to experience once more the moment of death. But you didn’t do it. You could have killed her, Nick. And if you were going to, if that was what you really wanted, you would have done it then. But you
Jo was in her bedroom, lying on the bed, her arm across her face. Nick sat down on the bed beside her. “I’ve brought you a sherry, Jo.”
She turned and looked at him, her eyes still swollen from crying. “What do you think of Ceecliff’s theory?”
He smiled. “I’ll buy it. Anything is better than mine, and I hear John is next after Richard III for reappraisal and reinstatement by historians.” He reached forward and pushed her hair gently back from her face. “I want to believe Ceecliff’s love story, Jo.” He leaned forward and kissed her on the lips. “I want to very badly. It would mean that at the end of the story you will marry your handsome prince and live happily ever after.”
Jo gave a snort. She pushed him away and reached for the sherry glass he had put down on the bedside table.
“Don’t overdo it, Nick.” She swung her legs over the side of the bed and stood up. Her smile faded. “What about Sam? He’s not going to want a happy ending, Nick.” She couldn’t hide the sudden tremor in her voice.
“I’ll deal with Sam.” Nick put his arm around her. “But you mustn’t see him, Jo. You are too susceptible, and you do realize, don’t you, that you must never, never go back to Matilda’s world again? You know as much of her story as you need to know. There must be no more.”
She nodded. “I had already decided that. I didn’t want to know any more anyway. It was you who forced me to go on last night, Nick.”
He grimaced. “God forgive me. Jo, just for a while, I still don’t want you ever to be alone with me either. Not yet. Ceecliff has said she’ll stay with you for a few days, if you want. I think you should let her.”
Jo nodded. “I’d like that.”
He grinned. “Good. It’ll soon be over, Jo, I promise. It will soon be over now.”
“Why so formal, Nicholas?” Sam eyed his brother across the table with grim amusement. “And so extravagant. Claridge’s, no less!”
Nick was looking at the wine list. “I wanted to talk to you somewhere quiet.”
“Then why not the apartment?”
“Because I don’t trust you.” Nick ordered a bottle of claret, then he leaned back in his chair and looked Sam straight in the eye. “It hasn’t worked, Sam. You’re a devious bastard, and I’ll admit you had me shit-scared for a while, but it hasn’t worked.”
Sam smiled. “Pity.” He put his elbow on the table and rested his chin in his hand, looking at Nick through narrowed eyes. “You are quite sure, are you?”
Nick felt a prickle of unease stir the small hairs at the nape of his neck. “I know it,” he said firmly. “But tell me one thing. Why? Okay. You despise me. Fair enough, I suppose: a brother’s prerogative. But why Jo? Why hurt her?”
“It amused me to see you both dancing like puppets at my command.” Sam stretched his long legs under the table. “You and that wimp, Heacham. His memories are genuine, you know. He’s a real sensitive, poor bastard.” He sat back in silence as Nick scrutinized the label on the wine bottle and then sipped thoughtfully from his glass.
With a curt nod at the wine waiter Nick watched the two glasses slowly poured, then he picked his up and extended it toward Sam. “I’ll drink to your speedy and permanent return to Scotland.”
