Tangles and Treason

Rafe. There is a way back. You will be able to save the queen. But you will have a terrible price to pay.

Perhaps he’d make the acquaintance of that granddaughter. What was her name again? Lucy. That was it. Lucy.

He recalled now that Agnes had said her granddaughter was coming to visit. But how was it possible that Agnes Bartlett’s granddaughter was the image of his long dead and most beloved wife?

Amor perpetuo est. - Love is forever.

I will always come back to you.

He was dying. He regretted not saving his queen, but even more, he regretted not marrying Constance so she’d have the protection of his name, at least. Even if she was a widow. Too late now.

All too late

“Wait,” she said. “Let me make you a protection spell.”

He laughed at that. “Here is all the spell I need,” he said, and before she could protest, he leaned forward and kissed her ripe lips.

“Constance?” He mouthed the word for he knew it could not be she, and yet, his poor ancient heart yearned. The woman walking towards him had the same long curly blond hair, the bright blue inquisitive eyes, and heart-shaped face. She was dressed like a modern girl of her era, however, in jeans and boots and a casual coat. She dragged a suitcase behind her on wheels.

Their parting was sweet and sad. When he’d kissed her hand one last time she surprised him by throwing her arms around his neck and kissing him full on the lips. “I love thee,” she whispered.

“And I thee.”