A Curious Volume of Forgotten Lore: PART I

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PART I

Evie Jordan-Lord 

I have lived a very singular life. I have loved. I have lost. I have suffered tragedies and I have triumphed. In truth, there’s no one-way to describe the events my journey has taken and the experiences I have endured. What I can say is that despite it all I would never change a thing. 

I have survived. I am, a survivor. 

When I was 24 years old, I left my family in England for a life in American to live with a family I was to be married into. That decision still haunts my family today, even if we don’t talk about it. But this is not the story of what came after, this is a story of how it started -- many years before 

Someone once said, "The more absolute the hush, the more shocking the thunderclap." That seems very true to my life, so I won't begin with Once Upon a Time, I begin with thunder. 

**LONDON, OCTOBER 1898 ** 

The Lords arrive in London

On an autumn day, bleak and dreary, I was to see my future in a flash like the white-hot light of the thunder in the air outside my window. I was only 11 years old; time back then seemed to pass slower as slow as the drops of rain running down the glass of my bedroom window. trickling like transparent slugs that collected all in a puddle at the bottom of the pane. 

This was the day I was to meet the boy I would someday marry. His name was Sebastian Lord and he along with members of his family were headed to our home in London. Sebastian's grandmother and my mother had a mutual friend who tried their hand in matchmaking. It wasn't typical for an English girl from a old money family like my father's to be linked to a nouveau riche American, but my mother was an American and that had worked from daddy. 

The matchmaker friend was called Augusta Stoddard. She was a bird like woman, American too, who'd married several times over her lifetime including to a man who was a former business associate of my paternal grandfather's. She loved to meddle in well-to-do families who had children of a certain age who'd at one point need to marry. To link the families together via a third party wasn't uncommon, but it was old fashioned. This for Augusta, sport for her. Some played cricket, or tennis, Augusta sized up family fortunes and made them bigger by joining them in matrimony.  

My family, however, wasn't one with millions in the bank. We were safely wealthy but nowhere near the Lord empire. I assumed it was a favor to my grandfather that Augusta even allowed the Lords to set foot in our modest London town house. After all, our families the Lords, Jordans and Stoddards, weren't necessarily close, but ran in the same trans-Atlantic circles of a snobbish upper class that I had never understood. Money has a funny way of drawing acquaintances to deep friendships. 

When they arrived at our house, I watched their cab stop just below my bedroom window. So many times I'd stare out of that glass onto the London street and dream about my future, and now there it was in front of me stepping out of a taxi into an autumn storm. I wasn't sure if I should continue to watch the members of the family stepped out of the sleek rain-soaked car. But I did. I watched and I waited for him to appear.

First the driver popped out of his seat and quickly pulled the backdoor of the cab open. The patriarch, Albert Lord, stepped out first in a smart gray suit. He had a silly grin on his face as if he had just heard a joke. I'd learn later that he always looked that way. Then a hand extended out. Feminine. Gloved. Albert's wife. He grabbed her hand and out came the stoic woman I'd soon know as Rebecca Lockwood-Lord.

As she was helped out of the cab she adjusted her coat and looked around the neighborhood. She smirked. It seemed to suit this American queen who'd been around the globe and seen every type of neighborhood imaginable. I noticed her red hair. It was like a deep sunset tucked under a feathered hat shading her fair skin. She didn't look like any grandmother I had ever seen; she seemed rather young. 

Rebecca whispered something to her husband, and he nodded and dashed around the cab. Rebecca's son Jacob followed her out of the cab. Jacob was extremely handsome and as well dressed as any prince at just 29-years-old. His hair was slick and black as night, his eyes so perfectly spaced. He looked back into the cab and said something to someone. It was Sebastian who followed his uncle out with careful movement.

At least Sebastian told the truth. He was as nervous as I was. His curly dark golden hair fluttered in the cold wind and cold rain, and he quickly covered it with a cap by order of his grandmother. His peach toned skin blushed and his lips made a perfect pout. I was surprised at his height -- taller than any 11-year-old boy I had met. The others in his group seemed eager to get things moving. To them, they had to be sure our family was the right one. The perfect English family to join their American dynasty. What did they expect of me? I wondered. I could only imagine, and it felt like the walls around my eleven-year-old life were closing in quick. 

 "Thankfully this rain let up!" Augusta said, coming out from the other side of the car where Albert Lord had helped her. 

"Is it always this .... this here?" Jacob asked gesturing to the rainy sky, clearly unimpressed with his first experience of the dreary cool gray after noon of London.

"Not always." Rebecca replied. She'd been here before.

"You might want to keep the attitude in check, son." Albert replied. "We don't want to come off as if we're...I don't know, better than them.".

"Besides, Welshport isn't exactly Havana." Augusta reminded them all of Welshport's own grayness. "Now Sebastian, I know this feels strange, we all understand, but do try and remember that for Evangeline this is just as awkward. Nothing is set in stone, and we're only here to meet them, alright? Make friends." She added

Rebecca, always the territorial grandmother, grabbed Sebastian by his sloped shoulders and pulled him away from Augusta as if to get him out of the line of fire of her words. "He'll be fine." 

"She's really my age?" He asked, his voice sweet and tender. Worried even. Unsure of what he himself was getting into.

Augusta's head went back with a great big laugh "OF COURSE CHILD! Did you think we'd be betrothed to some old granny like Rebecca here?" 

Rebecca's eyes narrowed. "Enough Augusta. Let's get out of this wet street."

"Yes, please." Jacob said annoyed. 

"I'm only teasing Becca. Shall we? Let's not keep them waiting any further.

I saw the group suddenly turn and face our front door, and my room. I jumped from the window, the small diamond ring my grandmother gave me for my first communion got caught on the white lace curtains, I yanked it off and Sebastian noticed the movement and looked up.

I looked down. He saw me. I saw him.

I quickly turned away; it was like staring at the sun. Don't look too long -- you'll go blind! Sebastian stared only turning back towards the front door when fresh rain starting to fall on his perfect cherub face. 

Jacob rolled his eyes at the weather front and paid the taxi driver and tried to warm himself. "Ugh. Can we please go in." 

As the group made their way to the door, my mother walked into my room. I was already sitting at my vanity. She walked over and stood behind me. Her hands were on my shoulders, and we stared at each other in the mirror.

"I know what you're thinking." She said to me. I shrugged then looked down at my ring. "Trust me I do. These things are completely old-fashioned and truly, I wish it were different, but I think that when you finally do come of age to marry, marring into this family would be one of the greatest opportunities any girl could wish for."

I shrugged again and grabbed my brush. It was silver embossed; my initials were carved in the handle. Another gift from my first communion. 

"No one is taking you from us. This is just a meeting, a way for us to all get know each other better. Then one day, you'll enter a world of endless fortune and new beginnings. You're our hope, darling, to keep things on our end afloat." My mother replied. She hadn't often noted our money problems with me before.

"What if he doesn't like me?" I said turning to my mother from the mirror.

"He will. He will love you. He will love you for all eternity. I promise you." 

For all eternity she said. It was like I was giving away my life to -- to him? To a person, a boy, I didn't know. I took a breath and a whimper came out. I was crying and hadn't even noticed.

My mother began brushing my hair and when she was done, she cleaned my tear-stained face and kissed my cheek. 

"I promise you -- he'll love you forever." 

*

Jacob & Marissa get reacquainted 

Back in our foyer my maternal aunt Marissa welcomed the Lords in. She was only a few years younger than my mother, but just as beautiful and just as American. Her wide eyes of green reflected her spontaneous and happy nature, a trait the English in our circle had yet to warm to. Aunt Marissa wasn't brash by any means, but she was very open to the world around her. Different cultures fascinated her. She loved art and took me to so my first museums and galleries and it was with her that my love affair with the arts bloomed. One Christmas she even gave me a book on works by Caspar David Friedrich. I read it and looked through its pages over and over and over until the book's spine gave. 

I wasn't the only one very fond of Aunt Marissa. Jacob Lord found her equally as beguiling the moment he entered the room. 

"Please, please come in!" Aunt Marissa said, taking Rebecca's coat into her arms. "We've been so excited for your arrival."

"Thank you, Miss?..." Rebecca asked.

"I’m Aurora's sister, Marissa, ma’am." My said. 

Jacob lit up. My aunt Marissa was a dazzling. Jacob was not shy to eye her up and down but there was something else, something too familiar even for people who run in small circles of the wealthy. Jacob and Marissa were not strangers.

“Well hello again.” Jacob said, his handsome young face quickly remembering her from a chance encounter the summer before.

“Again?” Rebecca asked as she turned to her son confused.

Marissa squirmed in place.

"Jacob and I have met before." she replied shyly also making the connection to Jacob.

"Have you?" Albert asked, stepping into the house with Sebastian's hand tightly wound in his.

"New England summer's on the Cape aren't exactly as exclusive as one would imagine." Jacob replied. 

Augusta strolled passed, her eyes never leaving Marissa for a second scanning her for more info through expressions, although my Aunt never gave anything away.

Rebecca too felt her mind quickly search her memories, Jacob had only gone to the Cape with his footman Filipe Braga, no one had ever heard of Marissa.

"So this is a recent acquaintance?" Rebecca asked, Jacob and Aunt Marrisa both nodded, she blushed.

"Last summer." Jacob said shortly. 

"Small world, very, very small world." Aunt Marissa added almost embarrassed by it all. "Please, come into the parlor, Richard is waiting." 

"The smaller the better I always say." Augusta chimed in, always eager gnaw on some tawdry gossip. 

As my aunt ushered the socialite and the Lords into the parlor, Rebecca gave our English townhome a very good once-over. She was impressed. She'd been to England several times over her lifetime She'd always loved the homes, inside and out, and even tried to build a few in Welshport to rent out to a varying degree of success. The Welshport homes were charming and cozy, but they still lacked something these true English homes had -- Rebecca couldn't quite figure it out. 

Our home, however, was indeed special. It was old, but my mother had always made it look as fresh as she could. Clean walls of white, green ferns and palms that stretched the eye to make the tall ceilings feel even taller. The hardwood floors were original but with a yearly varnishing looked newer than anything else. 

"This is lovely, just lovely." Rebecca said. "Richard Jordan, so good to see you!"

"OH! I adore it. So simple." Agusta's voice said of the house. "It's one of the most beautiful parts in Holland Park, we're only steps away from Kensington Palace, isn't that right Richard?" 

"Yes, that's correct." My father replied, slightly annoyed. "Rebecca, Albert please come in, come in!" My father replied jovially as he held little brother Nikolas's hand. 

"Rebecca, you'll never guess who's been seen walking her dogs down this block, Princess Beatirice. She's very plane, but royalty nonetheless." Augusta replied to Rebecca's lack of interest.

"I see." Rebecca said, trying to keep up appearances. 

"We've been so happy to see you all again." Albert said quickly moving the conversation. "Sebastian, go on, say hello to Mr. Jordan." 

Sebastian, meekly looked out from under his thick mop of curly blond hand and like a true gentleman shook my father's hand. "Sir." he said in a boy's voice.

"Good to see you chap, how was the trip?" My father replied to his future son in law with his thick English accent fluttering into air.  

"It was fine sir." Sebastian replied. 

"Well then, good to hear that. This is our youngest, Nikolas. Nikky, say hello." 

My brother froze. Much shyer than me and I was incredibly shy. He quickly stepped behind my father, slightly visible to the group and only whispered a meek "hello" 

"So good to meet you Nikky." Rebecca said, her smile warm as she slightly crouched down to be eye-level with him.

"Aurora will be down in a second, she was just getting Evie ready." 

My name sent Sebastian's skin into a prickly fit. His nerves tangled in his stomach, and he found himself now hiding behind Albert's legs like Nik was behind my father's. 

"Sit! Sit! Make yourselves at home." My father's said, as he ushered Albert over to the bar near a bright window that looked over Holland Park. 

Over in a small cushy corner, Aunt Marissa and Jacob got reacquainted. 

"It's very good to see you, the last time we saw each other was quite the blur of bed sheets and champaign." Jacob recalled.

"I remember." Marissa said, her eyes scanning the room to see if anyone overheard. 

"Do you remember how I kissed your neck. How you clenched my..." He continued to whisper as she quickly changed the subject. 

"Jacob -- I think we should keep that summer's events -- just between us." 

Jacob narrowed his eyes "Are you ashamed of what we did?" 

"Ashamed? No." She answered. "But considering your nephew and my niece are entering this sill and old-fashioned love connection I think it would just cause a bit of a gossip explosion should anyone get word that you and I ... well... became close."

"But we did. There shouldn't be any issues with Sebastian and Evie's betrothal and our budding friendship. There can be two Jordan women in the Lord family tree, can't there?" He wondered.

Aunt Marissa had fallen in love that summer with someone else completely and the fact she had any connection to Jacob was something she wanted to forget. It seemed her free spirit had accidently gone too far this time, and Jacob had become more smitten with her than she realized. Their summer fling had pulled itself into the chill of autumn. Had she known before they met how he'd one day be linked to me, she'd been more careful but there it was: her chicken came home to roost in the form of a lovesick Jacob Lord. 

"There's nothing wrong with a little fun, Jacob, but let's just be respectfully discreet? Shall we?" Aunt Marissa said as an eager Rebecca caught her eye. "Rebecca, please sit, would you like something refreshing to drink?"

"Water." Rebecca replied coldly; she'd already seen Jacob's private conversation with Aunt Marissa. It didn't take a psychic to know what was going on. "We didn't come at an awkward time did we? Is Evie alright?" 

"Not at all!" My father replied from the bar. "I'll go upstairs and get them."

"I could go up!" Augusta suggested. 

"No, no. You stay, rest, please. I'll see what's keeping them." Marissa said, as she handed Rebecca her water. "I won't be a minute."

This gave Rebecca a second to dust off any fluff from Sebastian's smart jacket and interrogate Jacob as she could clearly see my Aunt Marissa couldn't leave the parlor and Jacob's hungry eyes fast enough.

"Careful." Rebecca whispered to her son as she approached. 

Jacob rolled his eyes. "Of what?"

"You don't have the greatest track record when it comes to choosing women. Mary Goode sits in Welshport as I speak heartbroken and a month pregnant if our calculations are correct. And may I remind you about Sabri..." he cut her off.

"You don't have to remind me of anyone; I know exactly what I am doing." Jacob said. Albert noticed their tense interaction and excused himself from Richard's small talk to walk over to his son and wife. Richard noticed too but politely turned and talked to the two boys Sebastian and Nik about Sebastian's trip.

"The two of you need to be as normal as possible today. We've been here all but 10 minutes and you're already whispering in corners. I won't have you ruin this for my grandson. The future of this family is set on this match, he deserves to have a happy future and I believe we've found it for him." 

"Of course." Rebecca replied, as she caressed her husband's cheek. "I'm sorry." 

"Yes." Jacob replied. 

Albert narrowed his eyes at the two of them. His trust had thinned over the years especially after what happened with Sebastian's parents David and Sabrina. 

*

Rebecca & Sebastian meet Evie & Aurora for the first time

As my Aunt reached the top of the stairs, my mother and I had already left my bedroom. As we made our way down the hallway, I turned back and stared at the open door to my room. I felt that if I turned away, even for a second, when I would be someone else. That all my books and pages of art, and bed, and clothes and old friends of dolls and bears, would be gone -- and I too would suddenly be someone else. Sebastian and his family's arrival had me at the brink of transformation, and I could feel it in my bones.

"What's taken so long?" Aunt Marissa asked my mother as the three of us met in the hall.

My mother looked at her like she had three heads "Has it been long?" 

"They're here Aurora, they want to meet Evie." My Aunt replied as she then looked down at me. "He's very friendly, Evie. Shy, but friendly. Are you ok?" 

I shrugged. 

"It's odd, I know, all of this is so odd. Think of this as the first time you're meeting a new friend that you'll have for the rest of your life." She added.

"But I don't marry my friends." I answered.

My mother smirked. "I married mine." 

I looked up at her, slightly confused. Then she turned to the wall and there was a wedding photo of her and my father. She turned back and it made sense. But I was still a nervous wreck. 

"It's going to be ok." My mother reassured me.

"Come." My Aunt Marissa added as she reached for my hand and the three of us continued down the staircase and into the foyer. We turned down a bright little corridor that led us passed the parlor that was now empty. My father had moved everyone into a larger more formal drawing room and as we made our way. In that short walk all I could see nothing but the backs of my mother and aunt and hear our shoes clacking on the hardwood floors that had been freshly polished for this occasion. 

We entered the drawing room and like two sea sirens rising out of the ocean my mother and aunt parted and I walked in between them. Everyone turned and faced us. I looked at down at my feet that were covered by the hem of my egg-shell colored dress. My mother's cleared her throat and I looked up. 

Rebecca instantly stood up, she smiled at me. Very warmly, if I recall. She walked over caressed my face with her hand. The lace of her glove felt scratchy, but I smiled. 

"Oh, Evangeline. I am very pleased to finally meet you." She said, giving each of my cheeks a kiss. "This is my grandson, Sebastian." 

When Rebecca said his name, she moved slightly to the side and there stood the most beautiful boy I had ever seen now up-close. He was dressed impeccably in a royal blue jacket made of velvet. He smiled, his shyness melted away when our eyes met. I curtsied and the rest was blur.

I remember voices, Augusta's mainly. The introductions of who was who too, and Jacob reaching for my mother's hand, Aunt Marissa disappearing somewhere behind me, most likely to escape more time with Jacob. The laughter of my father and Albert bonding. Jacob's eyes scanning for Marissa. My little brother begging to be allowed to go back to his room to play. Even attempting to lure Sebastian up stairs to see his toys.

And in this blur of voices and movement and excitement of these two 11 years olds finally meeting to one day -- years from now -- become husband and wife, I finally heard his voice as he walked up and patted my shoulder. 

"Hi."  

*

Evie and her art book

The grown-ups decided to separate into two different groups. The ladies stayed together in our parlor and made small talk over small biscuits and tea, and the men took to the small study my father had set up earlier that day already anticipating the splitting of the sexes. 

Sebatian and I moved stayed in the kitchen with our cook Holland. He was a tall man who spoke fluent French almost all the time even though he was from the Scottish Highlands by birth. He'd tell us that he was only born in Scotland and raised in a rural part of France. He never really told us from where, always just a rural part.

No one could be sure of the truth, so French it was when speaking with him.

As Holland prepared small treats to deliver to the parlor for the ladies, Sebastian and I got to know each other over a book I was reading. His green eyes were so intense. He was curious, he was smart, and -- he was very cute. I could barely look in the eye as we chatted about whatever painting or sculpture was on the page at the moment. 

"It's funny how the woman stares out of the window and there's really nothing there, huh? I wonder what she was looking at." Sebastian said to me, I couldn't look, my eyes fixed on the woman in the painting.

Stupidly I finally replied in a shy voice "Well she's not real, so maybe whatever is out of the window is not real." 

He laughed. "I guess."

I decided I needed to make more sense and added "She could have BEEN real." 

"What do you mean?" 

Art and the beauty of what someone could do with their imagination was already so engrained in me, I was so sure of myself when I spoke of art. Even if my own little composed explanations of what something was meant to convey wasn't at all true to the artist, it was true to me.

"You see the artist, Johannes Lamme, had this person in their mind. Just this person. He could picture her sitting at the window and he could picture her clothes and hair and details of her face. But he couldn't see what she was seeing. He could only see her." I explained. 

Sebastian scrunched his nose and paused before replying. 

"WHAT?" My little brother asked, his mind too unshaped to understand art. Then he laughed at me and poked at treats. 

"I think maybe he didn't want us to see what she saw." Sebastian added.

His answer to my theory struck me. "Didn't want us to see" ... that was interesting. It made me wonder.

"Why do you think that?" I asked, finally making eye contact.

He stared at me, this boy, someone that in about 10 or 11 years I would, god willing, call my husband, looked at me and smirked. 

"Because whatever she's looking at she's scared of. Whatever it is out there, is coming for her and she's uncertain of what is to come in her own life; in her own future." He said pointily. 

I knew what he was doing. "Like me." I replied. 

Holland heard it too, I could hear him hum a reaction to it, surprised by Sebastian's astute reply. 

"And me." Sebastian said. 

I quicky turned the page of my art book to a beautiful landscape. A painting that neither of us could pull personal worries or anxieties from. It was just a farmhouse on a beautiful day. We admired it and Holland brought us butter rolls to snack on. It was such a strange feeling to know that this would not be the last time he and I spoke or saw each other that somewhere, sometime, some way, we'd eventually come together again. Maybe for another meeting, maybe for another test. Or... worse, maybe on the day of our wedding. 

For now, all we could do is talk about the farmhouse. 

*

Rebecca, Augusta, Aurora & Marissa 

Over in the parlor, the ladies were getting more comfortable in their large flowing dresses that crumpled up like tissue paper on our small sofas. The room was cramped compared to the grand rooms Rebecca and Augusta were used to taking their tea, but surprisingly they did not show any prejudice towards our more humble accommodations, in fact just before I went into the kitchen with Sebastian I overheard Rebecca whisper privately to Augusta that she found our home rather charming and warm. 

"It really was a stroke of luck for us to meet you and your family through Augusta and the rest of the Stoddard family Aurora. I am very pleased." Rebecca said kindly.

"As are we." my mother replied as she refilled Rebecca's teacup. "Lady Stoddard, Augusta's sister-in-law, and my late mother were very good friends, so we've known her too for so long. Augusta practically another aunt to us."

Augusta, the match maker, smiled her wide grin then crunched down on a small biscuit. She made a sound confirming her closeness to the Ashby side of my family then added with a full mouth "When Lady Stoddard told me Rebecca was hoping to make a match for Sebastian, I could only think of our dear Evangeline. They're perfectly the same age, and if I do say so myself, getting on quite well too." 

"Sebastian is very sweet." My mother noted.

Rebecca beamed with pride.

"Yes, they are very cute together." Aunt Marissa said. "I think all of us appreciate the way that you've allowed them to meet so early on in this processes. They're so young, that allowing them years to get to know each other before they marry is valuable." 

"In truth, I had wished that that was what happened with Albert and I." Rebecca confessed. "I was thrust into the Lord family fold like being dropped into an icy river without being able to swim. My father-in-law had already passed, but Mother Lord, Marina, I met. She was very stern. Very hard to get used to. But we eventually got on." 

"Was she the only one of the family around?" Mother asked.

"No." Augusta interjected. "There's an older brother and younger sister. Calgary and --- oh what's her name? The sister, Rebecca, what is she called?"

"Alixandra." Rebecca replied, with a cold expression.

"AH! Yes. Like the empress." Augusta joked, "Alix, for short." she added, almost mockingly. 

"Alix is far more distant than Cal. Both live abroad." Rebecca added.

"Thankfully." Augusta said as my mother and Aunt Marissa shot each other looks. 

"Yes, well, all families have their special members." My mother said as she poured her own tea.

"That reminds me, Marissa, have you married?" Augusta asked as if to brand my unmarried aunt as our family's special member. Rebecca coughed.

Aunt Marissa gulped, she knew where this ship was sailing to.

"No, I am not." 

"And you yet you have a child." Augusta replied, surprising Rebecca with this bit of gossip.

Marissa narrowed her eyes; she could feel the warmth of her cheeks. Rebecca sipped her water unsure of what to make of this unmarried mother. My mother too felt a bit protective of Aunt Marrissa, but she said nothing. 

"I don't pretend not to be disappointed in that myself." Marissa said hoping to salvage her reputation. "The father of my child became very ill before would could marry. I wanted a child, and so, we conceived Roman in hopes that he would be better soon for a wedding. I know what you're thinking, 'what an odd way about it', but time was of the essence. Unfortunately, his father's illness took him before Roman was born and before we could wed." 

My mother cocked her head slightly -- almost astonished with how fast her sister came up with that.

"Ah." Rebecca said. "How very tragic."

"Indeed." Augusta replied.

My mother quickly changed the subject and passed Augusta another plate of biscuits that she happily took explaining how she bought them from a local baker that we all love near Queen Anne's Square. A lovely neighborhood known for its shops and cafes but also for a specific block under a heavy shade of trees where London's most curious and superstitious would head to have their fortunes told by gypsies and palm readers. 

This made Rebecca's eyes light up. She wanted to see this, she wanted to visit soon, if the rain let up.

"Of course, of course." My mother agreed, then asked my Aunt Marissa for help in the kitchen with more refreshements. 

The request for help was just a rouse. My mother pulled Marissa aside and into a quiet hallway where she scolded her about that story of the father of her child. 

"Where did that come from?" My mother asked in a whisper.

"I had to say something, they were looking at me like I had the letter 'A' embroidered on my boddice." Marrisa replied.

"We could have -- I don't know -- made something else up." Mother replied.

Marrissa gave her a look that could only be described as baffled. They hadn't discussed explaining little Roman's missing father. The excitement and nervousness of meeting the Lords overshadowed all else, and in the heat of the moment, the lie worked better about his father. Not even Roman's father, who was indeed alive, knew who he was. Just Aunt Marrisa and my mother.

"Leave it as is. If we bring more attention to the matter, it may make them ask more questions and frankly, I'm not in the mood to concoct MORE of a story." Marrissa added.

"Fine." My mother replied sternly to her younger sister. "We'll just distract them with more talk of Anne's Square. Rebecca seemed to enjoy that." 

Aunt Marissa nodded and then the two went back into the parlor after quickly grabbing the extra plate of treats from the kitchen and checking in on Sebastian and myself.

*

Albert, Jacob and Richard 

The study filled to the brim with smoke from cigars that swirled and puffed about the men like London fog. My father Richard stood near a bookshelf with one arm resting against it holding him up as the father and son Lords, Albert and Jacob, sat facing him both puffing away like human chimneys.

They made small talk about business, money and politics. Friends they may or may not have in common in both New and Old England, "old" as Jacob put it, made the left side of my father's mouth dip. He always preferred Old to new -- in all things. It wasn't that my father didn't like the Lords, he like my mother, barley knew them. They had only met once in New York much before it was decided that I would eventually marry Sebastian. And that interaction was cordial, but the idea that he'd one day set my on a ship to America to marry felt heartbreaking.

And even though marriage by arrangement was a very old tradition in families like mine and the Lords, my father wasn't one hundred precent sold on it. But seeing as how this status update for our family would give me so many more opportunities in life -- he agreed. 

"It's not that the I don't fully trust your Prime Minister, Mr. Jordan, he's surely been very good about this whole situation with the Spanish we're dealing with, but I have to have my reservations. After all, what kind of an American would I be if I didn't keep one eye on our former oppressors." Richard said. 

"What? Oh yes, yes, oppressors. Well, that all ended with tea in the bay, isn't that right? A right-oh way to show the crown where to stick it. Besides, Queen Victoria is no George III. So, it all sorts itself out when the crown switches heads." My father replied, completely uninterested in the conversation.

Clocking my father's boredom, Jacob changed the subject "What is you do, Jordan? I don't think father has told me?" 

"Banking. I work with money." father replied.

"Money?" Jacob asked.

"Not mine, of course. Well, that's not always mine. Sometimes mine. I help the very rich and those who want to be the very rich invest in the great world around them. Money goes a long way now, Mr. Lord, especially with how fast the world moves. Money needs to move just as fast. I help that happen." 

"Quite right." Albert replied.

"I do love that." Jacob said.

"What's that Jacob?" My father questioned. 

"Money." Jacob said, his eyes almost turning to cartoon dollar signs. 

My father's eyebrows bounced up and down quickly, he loved money too. 

"Did your other son work as hard as this one at making money?" My father asked of Sebastian's father David fully expecting them to reply as normal, but the room fell silent. 

David Lord was a difficult subject for the family. The secrets and the tragedy had always been a very dark moment in their history. A scar that was constantly reopened; rife with infectious gossip. Albert, mainly, didn't know how to reply at first. He only puffed on his cigar allowing the smoke to seep out of his nostrils as his brain quickly tried to search for a way to speak on David without saying his name - as if it were cursed.

"My brother had his own interests." Jacob answered.

"Had! -- I forgot. I over stepped." My father replied remembering too late that David was presumed dead. 

"David's ideas weren't always full minded and trustworthy as mine interests are for the family and our business. He was mother's favorite you see. The golden child. " Jacob added finally said puffing along with Albert.

Albert sucked his teeth at Jacob and waved a puff of smoke form his face "David worked just as hard. I won't have you speak of David in any disapproving way." 

"I wasn't saying -- " Jacob began before Albert interrupted. 

"He had his demons, we all do. He suffered from something so damaging that it took over. I can't say that I can ever forgive David for what he did, but I can also say that I can't forget how it all happened either." 

Albert stared daggers at Jacob. It was Jacob, that had an affair with his sister-in-law Sabrina. It was Jacob who confronted by a hung-over David to tell him what he had done on Bellmore Beach. It was Jacob who drove his younger brother to the devastating decision to leap from the widow's walk of Welshport's lighthouse and into the sea -- never to be seen again.

It was also Jacob who made that whole story up. Sabrina did not have an affair with Jacob; she did not love him. David did not kill her, Jacob did, in a fit of anger, sick obsession and jealousy. 

Those demons that Albert spoke of were all monstruous lies brought on David by his twisted older brother.

The family's most lethal scandal -- the murder of Sabrina by David -- is what plunged the family company and their social standing into free fall. 

Until now. 

"No, how can you forget something like that? So tragic." My father Richard added standing from the cushy chair and nervously pulling books from the bookcase. "I wouldn't be able to. How has it affected the boy?" He added not knowing the full story but hoping to warm the room's temperature.

"He's had his difficulties." Albert answered. "But its been about 4 years. He's come out stronger than we realized." 

"Stronger. Yes." Jacob said his eyes slightly cold.

Albert turned to Jacob "Despite outside attempts otherwise." 

Jacob shot up like a firecracker into the sky darting out of the room. His father's reply felt like a hailstorm of words pointed at him over the truth.

"Is he alright?" My father asked Albert.

"No." Albert replied. "He hasn't been alright since he was 10 years old." 

After a short pause my father said something that froze Albert still.

"Albert, I'm not sending my daughter to you in 15 years to marry a boy who'll do what David did to Sabrina am I?" 

Albert took a second to think but that second felt like it lasted the hour. He knew the truth about Sabrina's death. Feeling the sick guilt for allowing David in his death to take the fall for Jacob made it all the worse when continuing the lie. But he shook his head anyway. "The boy is nothing like -- " he paused again "that." 

"That?" My father asked.

Albert was going to say "like his father" but Sabastian was like his father. Kind. Handsome. Funny. Albert could not take that away from either his son or grandson. The "that" was Jacob. Jacob's sickness was his own and was not transferrable. 

"The dark side of this family sits with those who are shadowed. Sebastian lives in the light. I can assure you this." Albert said.

My father finally left the bookcase and came and sat again next to Albert. They continued to make small talk about the things that men spoke of. My father mentioned in that he'd love to take them all to Queen's Anne's Square, a place my mother had also mentioned to Rebecca in just the next room over. It was no coincidence. It was something the two of them had decided to use as a conversation point with the Lords. 

Tomorrow, when the sun woke us, we'd all head to the Square for what my parents hoped would be a light-hearted excursion. 

Before that, however, I saw Jacob sneak into my baby brother Nikolas' nursey as I was walking into my own room. I wondered what he was doing. I looked around the quiet upstairs hallway. No one else was there everyone was still downstairs. 

I walked over to the nursery where Jacob had left the door sightly opened. I looked in and the room was dimly lit as my brother and baby cousin Roman slept. There were bears and toys and blocks all over the place, the boy had always made a mess when they play. I saw these things and thought nothing of it actually, but could not spot Jacob -- at first.

Then, as I peeked in around the door I saw him standing over the small crib Roman was in. 

He said nothing to the baby who was sleeping. Jacob's face was wrinkle free. He was handsome with dark hair and chiseled face. His green eyes were beguiling with the contrast of his dark hair and olive skin. He stared at the baby, Roman, sleeping. I didn't know at the time what he thought but I could guess.

His mind might have wondered back to the time in America, 2 very short summers ago, when he was introduced to a gorgeous woman from Maine who had been living abroad in England with her sister. Her name, Jacob might have recalled in this memory, was Marissa Ashby -- my aunt.

She was unmarried when they met. He too. They found each other at a dance. They fell into a quick passionate affair of one night and soon after Marissa went back to England and then the baby was born. 

I can imagine then that Jacob might have been thinking only one thing as it suddenly crossed my own little mind:

"Is this child mine?"

CLICK THE IMAGE
FOR PART II

B9/Ch18: A SHOT IN THE DARK

The twins are found 

In the pit under The Goode family’s basement, the smell of mud lingered in the air. It was wet and cold, as if a giant  grave had been left open. Verity had made it Mary’s makeshift buried bedroom that had suddenly become her own prison.

It was after the fall. And Mary began to stir. Her sister's powerful jolt of energy had knocked her unconscious. Her head aching, her body weaker and weaker from whatever illness she was suffering from. Weeks of malnutrition, stress and the damn air had taken it's toll but she was one of the strongest women in Welshport. Nothing would deter her from getting away from her twisted sister Verity and getting back to her family.

Mary quietly got up. Slowly made her way to the side of the pit that already had her footholds from her first attempt at climbing up. She tried again, one foot in then pull up. Next foot slightly higher, then pull up. 

She did not get far. Verity awoke and pulled at the clothes on Mary's back. Mary fell backwards on top of her sister he rolled her off.

"You won't get out." Verity said, wiping the mud from her face. 

"I promise you, you will never get away with this Verity. Eventually it'll all come out and what will happen then? You'll not only lose the family you thought you could take but you'll lose it all. Everything." 

Verity said nothing. Only stared into the face that was hers. 

"But you can change that and get us both out of here and we can work something out." Mary added, kindly.

"And what? Live happily as sisters?" Verity asked sarcastically.

"YES! Why not?" Mary exclaimed. 

“Oh Mary, please!” Verity replied sarcastically as she achingly rolled to her side. “I think we’ve gone too far for that.” 

"We don't have to be enemies, Verity. We never had to be. This could be the beginning of something for the two of us. We're sisters. The last of the Spencer family."

Verity began to pace. Her head was still swimming from the blast she sent that knocked both women out. She circled and circled thinking about what it could mean for them to be actually friends and live together in the same world without having to fight over the same life. It seemed so simple, so easy. But could it actually work?

"What about Filipe?" Verity asked. "What about the time I've already spent with him?"

Recalling this made Mary sick, even sicker than she already was. Imagining the man she loved sleeping with her twin under such circumstances broke her heart but she had to keep Verity in the mindset that they could get through it. 

"I -- we -- we'll make it work." Mary said, choking back the anger she truly had. "Filipe will understand." She lied.

As the two sisters talked, Filipe, Johnathon and Jaqueline quietly entered the Goode Family cabin. Jacqueline put her finger to her lips and hushed them both. 

"Down there." She whispered, pointing to the basement door. 

The three began to make their way to the basement. Filipe began having flashes in his mind of another basement where he was once trapped: his mother Fatima's when he was locked there for his own protection during his time afflicted with lycanthropy. In his mind quick blinding reminders. The pain he suffered. The changing of his body. The chains. The horrible thoughts of killing and the taste of blood. He stopped suddenly just feet from the door. 

Johnathon pulled on his shoulder. "You alright?" he asked in a whisper.

Filipe nodded then realized Jacqueline wasn't with them. Filipe mouthed her name to Johnathon who turned to search for his wife. 

Then they saw her in the open front room opening a drawer that had been locked. She took something out of it and walked back over to the men who were impatiently waiting for her and handing Filipe what she removed from the drawer. 

A gun. Filipe looked at Jacqueline like she had two heads. 

"What is this for?" He asked.

"My powers”, she began almost embarrassed “they’re not like they used to be. I can’t protect you. You'll need this." She whispered.

"Protect me? From what?" He asked.

"Verity is very powerful. She has the backing of the council of sorcery." Jacqueline replied.

"Just hold on to it." Johnaton said. "You may not need it." 

Filipe’s eyes widened as he took the gun, it was loaded. He slowly opened the basement door, unsure of what he would find, and the three began to make their way down into the dark basement. They too could smell the mud from the giant mouth of the pit Verity had magically created in the basement that went deep into the earth.

Filipe gasped in shock. He could not believe what he was seeing. The entire basement floor had been destroyed and in it's place a giant hole. There was a space to walk but very little. Johnathon too could not believe his eyes but held on to Jacqueline who, for the first time, felt her nerves on edge.

The three made their way -- closer and closer to the salted edge of the pit where Jacqueline had to stop. 

Back in the pit, Verity felt the presence of the others. Mary too.

The ill and weak Mary didn't know to do, she began to finally see her freedom coming but needed Verity to stay calm. Both women were indistinguishable. Covered in soil and exhausted from their physical fight. Verity walked over to Mary and pulled her back, Mary fell to the ground 

“Quiet.” Verity told her twin. 

Finally, Filipe peeked over the edge.

"My god!" he said. "Its TRUE! Two Marys!"

“No, its not two Marys. You have to destroy Verity.” Jacqueline replied, “She’s dangerous and we cannot trust her!”

Filipe turned from Jacqueline and with hesitation lifted the gun down to both women identical to each other. Verity froze in place. 

"FILIPE! Mary shouted.

"THANK GOD YOU'RE HERE!" Verity shouted back almost in the exact cadence of Mary's voice to confuse him.

Mary got up from the muddy ground and pushed Verity aside. "She's been hiding me here and pretending to be me, please help me up from here, please!" 

"Don't listen to her, she's lying! I’m the one that’s been trapped. HELP ME UP!" Verity said, feeling like a trapped rat, trying to cover for her crimes.

"NO! No she's lying!!" Mary exclaimed.

"SHE'S LYING!!!" Verity screamed back adding to the confusion. 

Filipe and now Johnathon, could not tell them apart. They both looked as if they'd been down in the pit for weeks. Their clothes damp & covered in dirt and mud from their fight, their hair equally matted, caked even with the pit’s mud.

“What do I do?” Filipe asked. 

"Everyone stay calm!" Johnathon said.

"Shoot Verity!!" Jacqueline said from behind. "She has all the powers behind her, we cannot let her continue to move about us in our world." 

Verity heard this and seethed with venom for Jacqueline. But she could do nothing. She was trapped in her own deceptive web of lies and now looked down the long thin barrel of a gun.

"Which one is Verity?!" Filipe shouted.

The twins stood next to each other. Looking identical with no deciphering clue as to which was which.  It was as if a mirror was between them reflecting the same face back. For her part, Verity knew she could not use her powers because that would give herself away and the salt border would not affect her. Mary's powers had been blocked by the salt, she knew she had to find a way to prove who she was as Filipe kept the gun pointed down. 

"Filipe listen to me, I am Mary, I promise you I am. Do not shoot me.” 

"Don’t listen to her Filipe, I am Mary! SHOOT HER before she kills us all! Her powers are untold!" Verity revealed.

"No, no, Filipe, that’s a lie. She's lyiing --- " Mary began before Verity interrupted-- thinking quickly. 

"If you have to shoot one of us, shoot me. Then you'll see I'm the real Mary." Verity replied quickly trying to play the innocent route to discredit Mary and hoping to throw Filipe off. 

Filipe pointed the gun at Mary then Verity then back at Mary then back at Verity. “I don’t know what to do.”

From her vantage point behind them, Jacqueline was growing frustrated. She knew this could not last and that Mary's health was failing.

The weak Mary became confused then panicked when Filipe turned the gun finally back on her and squeezed the trigger as if he had finally chosen the imposter. 

Mary too weak now to say anything else only mouthed “I love you” then closed her eyes and braced for the shot that could probably take her life.

As if everything around him fell into slow motion, Filipe watched as May's eyes closed and she turned away with her hands up. Then in a split second he changed his mind, Mary opened her eyes as the awaiting gunshot never came.

Then he pulled the trigger — at Verity. 

In yet another split second occurrence, Mary suddenly remembered the woman posing as her was the embodiment of the twin sister her mother Eliza had lost. She was her blood, no matter what. Mary’s natural reflect of nurturing and protecting nature came through.  With her last ounce of energy, Mary jumped in front of Verity. 

Finally proving which woman was which.

The bullet had left the gun in a fireball and entered into one of twin’s bodies. 

They both fell to the ground — unresponsive.

Jacqueline gasped. 

Filipe dropped the gun, his hands shaking. 

The silence of the unknown was deafening which twin had been shot?

****

The Board meets with the embattled Lord brothers

Meanwhile, in the center of Welshport Village, a group of Lord Publishing board members gathered in a brightly lit wood-paneled boardroom that sparkled with orbs of light that were sprayed around the room from the ornate chandelier centered above the oak 12-seat table while Albert Lord watched from the confines of his golden framed painting on the wall. 

There were six members of the board of the company, each one visiting Welshport from New York city. All older men dressed in dark suits and white hair. Their dapper clothes and regal body language chocked the room of any relaxing oxygen. 

As two secretaries hurried around the room with pitchers of water and brady, Jacob entered like a Roman emperor reclaiming his throne at the end of the oak table flanked by Lear and one of the Publishing House's secretary. 

After a few pleasantries the room became silent as Christopher Wesley entered, the board clearly recognizing him as the lost son David Lord.

"What the devil are you doing here?" Jacob growled as his brother made his way to the other end of the table.

"This is my father's company too. I think I should have a say in what the board hears today." Chris answered.

One of the board members sipped from his glass of brandy bypassing the water and wiped his lips with the white linen cloth provided and huffed. "What's the meaning of this?" He asked Jacob.

"Sir, my name is Christopher Wesley, but I was born David Lord. I know that there was much said about my disappearance but I can assure you, assure you all, that I've returned home and want to have my say in what happened to the company now that my mother has gone away." Chris said.

Them men began whispering and taking notes, none of them happy or impressed by Christopher's reappearance at the Publishing House.

"And how did you expect to fall back into line with the family cause?" Another member asked.

"By attempting to discredit everything I have ever done." Jacob shot out.

"We think you have done a good job at doing that yourself." A third member replied to Jacob's shock.

"Gentlemen, please we should all keep to the idea that we all want what is best for the Publishing House, and personal insults should be kept out." Lear interjected. 

"I can assure you all that this man is not to be taking seriously. Why should he be involved in anything that I have worked for all these years. My work is plane as the nose on my face and the checks in your bank accounts." Jacob replied.

"But money can come and money can go. Jacon cannot be trusted. He never could be. He assures you I cannot be taken seriously to take this company and move it forward with him, but I tell you I am ready for that." Chris said.

"With him?" The first member of the board asked.

"Yes sir. I don't ask for full control, just my own part that was deeded to me in my father's will." 

"That you abandoned." Jacob replied. "Show them." He said to Lear.

Lear sighed, feeling sorry for Chris, then removed a folder from his briefcase and presented to the group. "It's David Lord's death certificate. Legally, this man here is Christopher Wesley, not David Lord. Christopher has no rights at all to anything connect to the Lord family: their business ventures, their property holdings in this country and over seas, etc. etc." 

The men passed around the papers and all agreed it was indeed true. Chris had no say, no matter the truth of his identity. Legally, David was dead.

"Even if you are who you say you are your shares and stake in your family's estate have been passed down to your grandson Gabriel, being that your own son Sebastian is no longer of this earth." A member of the board said as Lear, Jacob and Chris, all shot each other looks when Sebastian's name came up.

"But certainly, then, I can speak for my grandson." Chris said.

"He's David's grandson. Not yours." Jacob reminded him then looked at the members of the board and confirmed it again "Legally speaking."

"Then what? What of Gabriel's rights?" Chris asked.

"Good, then we're at that point when we can discuss what the board as decided." The first old man said.

"The board has decided?" Lear asked. "How? We only just met today." 

"No." The man replied. "The board has met on several occasions in the last few days in emergency secret meets Mr. Lockheart. Unlike this family, we have not been preoccupied with internal dramas that cloud one’s judgment. This company may not be ours by blood but the six of us have given it decades of loyalty because it's been in our own life's work too -- not to mention how we have always tried to preserve Albert Lord's true vision for the future of publishing. He was a visionary who wanted to publish only the best ideas, the most creative of writers and authors are the ones who he couldn’t get enough of. Those ideas were ones that pushed the envelope and raised the bar in novels, journalism, and writing at every rank. Despite all of the external battles his family has presented to the business' bottom line - day in and day out, we have continued his vision. Proudly." 

Jacob sat back in the chair at the head of the table and interlocked his fingers. His brow arched, Lear had already warned him the board was looking into new avenues to push power out of Jacob's hand and into various distant Lord Family members. He almost felt a twinge of glee feeling like he knew more than they knew. "Then what? What of these Secret meetings, that I, Albert’s only rightful heir, was left out of."

“Mr. Lord, don’t act so shocked. We already felt the hot breath of your spies, but the matter of protecting this company's possible decline into scandal was more important than allowing you to bull your way into our debate."

 "I’ve been the bull to fight for this company — in plain sight never in secret." Jacob replied hoping to shame the board in their betrayal.

"Oh please!" Chris shouted. "Spare us this Saint Jacob the martyr talk. You've lied your way to the top and schemed in secret far more than anyone in this room. No one in this family has ever been safe with your sick greed growing like virus." 

"We agree." The main board member said surprising the Lord Brothers. "We've taken that into consideration. Jacob, your hands -- we all know -- are not clean." 

"So, yes, we met in secret." A 6th man finally said. 

"It was for your own good." the fourth board member added sternly. 

"Jacob, with your mother now -- gone away-- and her divorce null due to Caspian's death, we've had to take measures to ensure this company remains out of the papers and profitable. Public perception of a family owned business with a dynasty like this one that has constantly battled issues with itself takes hard work to maintain. We've maintained it ourselves and realize the future must be preserved now. That's why we've taken the extraordinary task to vote on the change in power. And it was unanimous." 

The word unanimous burned Jacob like a cattle brand. It seared his skin scarring him in ways he had no idea would sting.

"What did you vote on?" Lear asked. "The family members overseas?" 

"The family members overseas are already represented here by some at this table. Mr. Jonah Blake represents the shares of the son of your uncle Calgary Lord II: Calgary Lord III, your cousin. And Mr. Lorn Charles, represents the shares of your Aunt Alixandra and her daughter Athena should Alix's shares move to her on her death." 

"Cal and Alix? Is that legal?" Jacob replied softly. Lear nodded confirming. 

"Its in their right as the majority to do something like this without you knowing. Even for those we are overseas." Lear answered.

"That's correct." The board member replied, then continued. "Now, Rebecca was removed quite easily due to her legal troubles & the nullification of her marriage as to the clause in Albert’s will. No one here, I safely assume, would have a problem with having her removed in that case. And as we mentioned just moments ago, the late David Lord's share of the power was hereby granted to his son Sebastian on Sebastian's 25th birthday, four years ago. Due to the circumstances of his death those shares eventually went to his wife Evangeline Jordan-Lord until her son Gabriel was born, now they lay in Gabriel’s trust. As for Johnthon DeViana, his rights to the company are void, since he has no proof, legally, to being the son of Albert Lord and of course his involuntary detention at Churchill Green does muddy the waters." 

"Which leaves just me." Jacob said. "As usual. Or are you going to give the ghost of my dead sister VeeVee voting rights?”

"No.” The main board member Mr. Harding replied clearly irritated. “It leaves your shares of the company, not with you. We've voted on those too."

Jacob braced himself  “I don’t understand.”

"For the good of Lord Publishing, your shares of the company has been moved too. Per your father's last will, they've been moved to your first born child -- if no male heir available it would go to Charlotte Lord, but this has been bypassed due to the birth of Fabian. A minor." 

"Are you saying that the representation of the Lord family on this board is now 2 children? Gabriel and Fabian?" Chris asked connecting the dots.

"To their trustees." Lear answered for the board, whom all nodded.

"Who has been appointed trustee?" Chris asked, as Jacob stewed in his anger watching his legacy slowly slip away.

The men looked around the room waiting to see which of them would reveal who would be the children's trustee, the door opened to the boardroom.

"Me." The voice said. Everyone turned to see Celeste DeViana-Lord. 

Jacob stood up, stared daggers at his wife and realized she had kneecapped him in the name and protection of their son Fabian's future. 

****

Justin delivers Rebecca’s hidden note 

Across the island, at Evie's Bellmore Beach house, Aurora was setting the table for a late lunch for herself, Nik and their guests Eden and Danielle. The group of four had been through a very difficult few days and Aurora felt she needed bring them together in hopes for a better future. 

It was also a way to say thank you to Eden for helping them all in a dangerous situation with Caspian.

The table was set with long white candles and a pristine white tablecloth. Danielle helped place shining white plates with a sliver of gold trim in the four top-table in the parlor that Aurora had chosen to use instead of the more formal dining room. 

"Everything looks wonderful." Eden said, seated on a parlor sofa with Nik.

"We hope that this little meal shines a light on how thankful we are that you were here to help my mother." Nik said as he stood at a near by bar pouring Eden a small drink of brandy.

"Well, anyone would have done the same." Eden added. 

Nik smiled and sipped his own brand when a knock came at the front door.

"Who could that be?" Nik wondered.

Nik went to the door and opened it to find Constable Justin Ryan standing there with Rebecca's note in his hand. He was reading it again to himself when the door opened almost as if to be sure he truly saw the words written as they were. 

"Constable! What can I do for you?" Nik asked.

"Doctor Jordan, good to see you. I -- I hope I'm not interrupting." Justin said, noticing Eden now standing in the parlor.

"We were just about to have a late lunch. Is everything ok?" Nik asked as Aurora and Danielle walked in together from the kitchen.

"Actually, no. Well, yes. If I could come in I could explain. I won't be long." Justin said.

Nik quickly stood aside to let the Constable in "Of course! Of course, come in. We're just in here." He added leading him into the parlor.

"To what do we owe this visit?" Aurora asked as she placed some of the dishes she had prepared down on the table. 

"We found something in Rebecca's cell that was a bit alarming and before I went to confirmed what we found I thought that I needed to come here and let you in on it." Justin explained.

"What is it?" Nik asked.

"It's a personal note Rebecca wrote and left inside a book in her cell. One of our deputies who was fixing it up and gathering some of her things to send to Augusta found the note clearly sticking out of the book and it was obvious she wanted someone to find it." 

"Why would you need to talk to us about it?" Aurora asked.

Eden listened carefully, his legal mind trying to figure out any issues of legality that would cause a problem for anyone in the room. 

"She recounts a conversation with Dr. Hoffman before -- way before -- the incident that eventually took her life." Justin said, just before turning to Aurora to look her in the eye. "Aurora, Asha confessed to her what she did to the child you gave birth to and that she delivered." 

He handed the note to Aurora who was frozen. Unable to take the note. Nik stepped over and took the note and read it himself. His eyes were wide with shock. A shiver ran up his spine when the truth was revealed to him that the little boy Mary and Filipe adopted, a boy named Caleb, was actually the child Aurora and Caspian conceived. 

Nik's half-brother, a small young 2-year-old, was living 5 minutes away in a house in the village with friends of theirs. 

"I can't believe this." Nik said as he turned to his mother. "He's alive mum. He's alive and he's -- he's Caleb." 

Aurora, who feared that the child had somehow died or was somewhere far beyond their reach gasped when the name Caleb came out of Nik's mouth. She had met the baby, several times. She had seen him face to face, looked him in the eye and saw how special and beautiful he was. A memory flooded her mind, like a giant picture flashing in front of her of how much he looked like Nik when he was a child and how she had thought that when she saw Caleb but of course pushed that idea aside. Never imagining her instincts were telling her something, that the boy she met a hand full of times by chance was actually her own flesh and blood.

"Did Rebecca say why Filipe and Mary hid this from everyone?" Danielle asked. 

"I don't think they know." Justin replied.

"This will break Mary's heart." Danielle realized.

Aurora agreed. "She's been through so much too, I -- I don't know how we'll be able to tell her." She added.

"Thank you Justin. Thank you for bringing this to us." Nik said.

"May I?" Eden asked, reaching for the note. 

"I'll leave you to your lunch. I'll show myself out." Justin replied as he made his way out the door.

Aurora sat down on the sofa in the parlor. She looked out onto the beach just beyond the front gate of the house The blue waves crashed hard on the sand but Aurora's thoughts on what she had just learned were so loud, not even the crashing of the wild waves could break it.

"Are you alright?" Nik asked sitting next to his mother.

"What do we do now?" She asked him.

"The adoption was illegal. They don't have rights to the baby." Eden added.

"I don't know I can even stomach the idea of going at this under the law." Aurora admitted. "Mary's been his mother, his only mother, since he was born. I don't doubt she's been a good mother to Caleb." 

"But you're his real mother." Danielle said. "A mother he wasn't give the chance of knowing. Because of what Gregory a Asha did, that was taken away from him." 

"She's right." Nik said. "Evie and I are so lucky to have you as our mum. He deserves to know you and be raised by you just as we were." 

Aurora began to cry. Deep inside of her she knew they were right. The baby was literally stolen at his birth from her arms. But she couldn't help but think of the idea of taking him from the only family he's ever known and bringing him to live with her under a whole stake of legal circumstances that were valid, and true, and right. Was her quest to find her own stolen flesh and blood more important that the baby's happiness with his adopted mother and father?

That question lingered in her mind, and as a mother -- she could not think of a worse thing to do to a little boy.

"Well!" Aurora began. "I have a lot to think about and -- I can't do it on an empty stomach." She added wiping away her tears. "Lets eat."

"But mum..." Nik began

"Nikolas, I am not ready to decide what I want to do with this letter. Rebecca was sick, she -- she was angry. We don't even know if this is true." 

"So you don't believe it?" Eden questioned.

Aurora didn't answer.

"She does." Danielle noted. "But she's a mother and Mary is a mother and -- she's weighing that." 

Aurora smiled hearing Danielle’s defense of her.

"Weighing it?" Nik asked as Aurora shot Danielle a thankful look. 

"He’s only a child. Caleb's happiness over her own. Whose happiness matters more?" Danielle added. 

The clock in the parlor then struck half past one. Lunch time.

"I said let's eat!" Aurora smiled, her eyes still puffy from tears.

Nik hugged her tight and kissed her cheek. The mystery of where her child had gone finally solved and yet now it felt much more difficult to end it knowing where he was. It was something Aurora was still too numb to answer for anyone, much less herself.

This lunch would not end with a decision, if anything, it would only push it forward to a time when Aurora could truly let it all sink in.

****

Julian meets with Celeste 

That evening, a soft wind blew through the trees of the Tirymor Forest. The sound mimicked the distant crash of the waves near the mansion that shared the forest's name. Inside the east wing drawing room, Celeste DeViana-Lord, the current family representative of the Lord family at the Publishing House, awaited the arrival of her brother's doctor Dr. Julian Pascal, Churchill Green's new head of psychiatry.

Julian had sent someone from the hospital to Tirymor while Celeste was at the board meeting requesting to see her that evening to talk about Johnathon's wife coming and discharging him. It was a plan Celeste and Jacqueline had come up with to pull Johnathon out of getting trapped in Julian's hypnosis and learning Lord family secrets, secrets no one could ever know.

Celeste paced the Persian rugged floor, following a path on the rug around it's edges like a maze, zigzagging around furniture. She was upset over Jacobs behavior at the meeting but also worried about Julian's push for more time with Johnathon.

"Ma'am?" Jane's voice said at the open door of the drawing room, "Dr. Pascal is here." 

"Show him in Jane, thank you." 

Celeste held her breath. He coreset was already squeezing her insides like a vice, her wait tiny enough to put he hands around and almost touch. Her nervous heartbeat was more than just about Johnathon. Julian was one of the handsomest men she had ever seen. He had a way of looking directly into one's eyes almost as if he was staring into the soul.

"Mrs. Lord, good evening." Julian said, entering the drawing room in a dark suit that fit him like a glove. His thick black wavey hair curled perfectly at the side part. 

He moved over to her and kissed her on both cheeks, his mustache tickling her earlobe. 

"Thank you for coming Dr. Pascal, please sit down."

Julian smiled, his eyes again searing her. "Please  Mr Julian. I hope you don't think me odd coming here at this hour, but I had a few things to take care of at the Hospital before I could get to you on this important matter of your brother." 

"I appreciate you coming here than having me go to you." She said.

"It's more comfortable, I understand." he said his legs slightly parting -- opening to her like a welcoming urge for her to look. 

Celeste cleared her throat "Your messenger said that you were concerned about Johnathon. Can you tell me more?" She asked, pretending not to know about Jacqueline.

Julian wasn't buying it. He sensed things. He felt the way someone lied to him. He could feel their heart rate go up and their blood rush. Like tiny rivers flowering all around them rushing withe the fear of exposure of the truth,

He smirked at the beautiful Celeste hiding his knowledge of her deception. Celeste, deeply honest at her core had only just started to learn the way of the Lords -- their secrets and dark natured world where one of them was a part of a shadowy world. 

The world Johnathon exposed to Julian, and that Julian needed to know more of. 

"We're both interested in Johnathon's well-being and if I don't have all the information, I can't truly do my job." Julian said, not really caring about Johnathon but the information he could provide. 

Celeste sat up straight. She calmly cupped her hands in her lap. 

"I love my brother. I would do anything for him. There is nothing on this planet that would stop me from making sure that his well-being came first to even my own." Celeste replied in more truth than Julian could ever know.

"Then why didn't you tell me his wife was back in town and that she was going to sign him out of the hospital?" Julian replied, his tone now much different and stern. 

"Jacqueline did that, did she?" Celeste asked, knowing full well it was part of the plan. "Well, we cannot stop a wife from being with her husband."

"Are they here?"

"No." Celeste answered quickly. 

"I see. Well if they do return here, I would hope you would consider convincing, not only Mrs. DeViana, but Johnathon himself, that going back to Churchill Green would be in his best interest." 

"What he said in his session with you, doctor, you can't truly believe any of that." Celeste said. "This family can be excentric, this is true, but people coming back from the grave and shadowy things of magic and sorcery, those are all just fantastical things of a man who at one point maybe believed that." 

"Do you believe that?" Julian asked now moving over to sit next to her.

Celeste paused. She didn't believe it, It was a lie. Everything Johnathon had said during hypnosis was true. There were dark forces all around them at Tirymor. Someone did come back from the dead, several times. There was life mixing with magic, there were all these things -- many of those incidences had happened in the very room they were sitting in. 

But Celeste was part of the lie now, she had to continue to cover. 

"I believe it, I believe that Johnathon expressed something -- unreal -- made up." 

Julian, wondered if he could trust her words. She intrigued him in every way possible. She was beautiful and alluring but he knew that beauty held lies. 

Julian’s eyes gazed around the room and a small portion of Sebastian popped out. This was just as interesting as Celeste. This member of the family was beguiling, mysterious and — no where to be found. 

Celeste caught Julian looking. 

“Sebastian.” She said. “My husband’s nephew. Poor soul — he’s been through so much.” She caught herself using the present tense. “—when he was alive.” 

“He died?” Julian asked, she nodded somewhat nervously. “Could that be what Johnathon meant about someone alive and dead?” 

“No! No.. not at all. Like I said, all apart of my brother’s strange dreams. Not reality. Sebastian’s son are all that’s left of him.” Celeste mentioned.

The mention of this son lit Julian’s face “A son!?! Where is his son?” 

Celeste’s eyes narrowed. She suddenly sensed a strange feeling in the pit of her stomach and realized she shouldn’t speak about Sebastian taking his family and vanishing into the night. She shrugged. “With his mother. Europe.

Gabriel, the golden child felt like the lost diamond in the Lord Crown Jewels to Julian. He needed answers and decided to press his thigh close to Celeste's and looked deep into her dark brown eyes hoping to seduce her. 

She was just as fascinating to him as the secrets she hid. There was a beguiling allure about the beautiful woman sitting before him. Why was she hiding this supposed fantastical side of a family she was married into. He wanted more. He wanted everything. And like the taste of a fine red wine, he could taste she knew more too. 

He wanted the truth, and he wanted Celeste.

"You, Mrs. Lord, are very, very fascinating. Not only to speak to -- but to look at. A work of art." He said, moving a strand of her hair and placing it behind her ear.

She smiled and thanked him. The fire in the heart crackled and burned a hot warm glow in the room.

"May -- may I kiss you?" He asked.

She held her breath, her lips parted. She didn't say yes, but she didn't say no. She exhaled then nodded confirming that he could kiss her.

His lips were hot on hers. He slipped his tongue into her mouth; a jolt of passion ran though her whole body from her feet to her lips. She grabbed the back of his head and held him there in the passionate kiss that made her feel alive. 

For Celeste this was something she had been missing from her tainted relationship with Jacob. For Julian, it was a way to get her to warm to him, top open up her heart and hopefully give him more of what he truly wanted: the truth. It was only a special perk that Celeste was indeed a beautiful woman he chose to manipulate. 

Jacob's coldness and pure craven nature, however, was no match for what Julian truly was. And the secrets he too was hiding. 

***

Father and Daughter  

In another part of the house, a reunion - of sorts - was taking place. 

Charlotte had come to visit her little brother Fabian and had played with him that afternoon until the evening when he was ready for her. The elder sister had a different motive for coming to Tirymor that day, however. She came to see her father Jacob. 

Jacob was sitting in his study on the second-floor reading the news paper. No new stories of the trials and tribulations of the Lord family this night, which came as a surprise as news and slowly seeped around The Globe's news room that the publishing company that owned the paper was once again shifting leadership with Celeste at the helm.

Charlotte slipped in, quiet as a mouse. She stood at the door with her hands clasped and cleared her throat. Jacob lowered his paper and saw his now 14 year old daughter standing as she had always done patiently awaiting his attention. 

"Well, well, well. Look what the cat dragged in. To what do we, the lowly Lords, owe a this? A visit of Princess Charlotte of Tirymor?" He joked, Charlotte arched a brow at his sarcasm. 

"I came to spend time with my brother." She said softly.

Jacob smiled, that truly warmed his cold heart. "I'm sorry I wasn't here when you got here. In fact I didn't even know you were still here. Did you have dinner?" he asked, she nodded.

"Daddy, its getting late and I was about to leave now that Fabian is getting ready for bed, but I also wanted to talk to you about something." Charlotte said.

Jacob folded the paper and gave his eldest child all his attention, something she had never had in her whole life. "Go on then." 

"It's about Uncle Christopher and you." She began. "I was hoping you would, maybe, ease up on him." 

Jacob furrowed his brow "Ease up? What do you mean?" 

"Well, its not secret that you and Uncle Christopher have issues. No one in this family can deny that those issues are difficult to get through, but grandmother is gone now and we don't really know when she'll return -- if she'll return -- and I feel I need to step in and try. Try to create some sort of truce." 

"Young lady, none of what happened between your uncle and myself has anything to do with you." Jacob said, the recalled how Charlotte was one time living with Sabrina's ghost haunting Charlotte for years. If anyone else besides Sebastian was affected by Jacob and Christopher's war, it was Charlotte. 

"But the war between the two of you has more implications than just the two of you. And I'm hoping that, for once, you'll at least listen to me and try." She said.

"Alright, my darling young lady, I'll bite. Why, oh why, shall I listen to you this time. Go on, give it to me, give your old father the speech I know you've planned for hours in that tiny bedroom of yours at Filipe and Mary's house. I'm listening." Jacob said, crossing his legs but not before one dig at Charlotte Mother Mary's more humble standings. 

"Uncle Christopher is soon going to be Morgan's stepfather and there's been word that if things get better around here for him and Geneveive they plan to leave all together, taking Morgan. Morgan is my best friend, Daddy. I would be so broken hearted if he left. I just would hope you could give it a chance and let things go." 

Jacob's face went from smug to cold. This was his daughter telling him to his face she was in love. Her first love. The boy that lived with his sworn enemy, his brother Christopher, was the boy she was in love with. He thought about it for a second while Charlotte's big blue eyes begged for something to come out of his mouth. A Yes, A No, at this point anything would give her hope that he was listening. 

But Jacob only got up and came over to her and hugged her. "You're growing up faster than I realized you would." he said. "Go on, get back to that cottage you call home now and I'll think on this. Your father has a lot to think about these days. I'll just add it to the pile." 

Charlotte felt his strong arms around her, a hug from her father that felt sincere had been a long, long time coming. "Please, do think about it." She said, hugging him again.

As she left, Jacob went over to a wet bar in his study. The world had flipped on him. Things weren't going his way in any shape or form. He worried about where his standing, not only in the company he'd given his life to but for the entire society of Welshport was going to be after all the pieces had fallen back into place. 

What he did know, was that he wanted to see Celeste. His wife. The woman who he was indeed in love with but had suddenly and decisively betrayed him without a single hint. She'd come in like a stealth shark and taken something form him that he'd cherished and built in his own image. A company that was so much made up of his own DNA, not only in name, but in truly all aspects.

He grabbed his drink. And poured another for his wife. He hoped to give her something to celebrate about before he was ready to tell her he was going to wage war on her too. No one now was safe. 

On his walk through the storied halls of his childhood home, a mansion made of stones that were ancient and foreign to Maine itself. He thought about the crimes he'd committed there. Those against his brother David, or Christopher as they all called him now. Against Sabrina and Sebastian. The death and the torture he put them through. And Mary, poor Mary. The woman he had loved but used, the woman he created Charlotte with and in the child's infancy took from Mary and for years poisoned her against her own mother with lies. He thought of the challenges with his Rebecca and her insecurities and how he tried so hard to make her love him unconditionally—to no avail. 

Then, he thought of Evie. His enormous jealousy rage when she came into the family. The threat she posed to his destiny and place in line of the family. How he hoped to break her, to ruin her, to take her out of contention in the many Lord heirs and heiresses. To him Evie became another mouth to feed. Another pocket to fill. Another entity to protect in the ever-growing family tree.

Then he thought of his Celeste. Their relationship was born of a quid pro quo. They'd both realized the challenges of having a mutual half-brother Johnathon due to her mother's affair with his father. Their marriage locked so much into place for him: He'd get a beautiful consort by his side and in return Jacob would never touch a hair on their half brother’s head.

As he reached the drawing room his mind circled Celeste's name. She'd taken their deal of a marriage of convince and stomped on it. She'd gone and taken his company and taken his very power from him and he would never forgive her. As he got closer to the drawing room, to glasses of brandy in his hand he saw the fire glowing from the hall. 

It was quiet. He peeked in and there, for all to see, was Celeste and Julian in the shadowy drawing room making love. In his house. On his furniture. Under his nose. 

Jacob's rage should have exploded but he stood there and he watched her. He watched his wife enjoy the body of another man. He watched her forget him. He watched his wife take everything she got from Julian and not think twice. He watched her glow in the power she had suddenly been given and forget she was not the one in charge when all was said in done. 

He watched her make the biggest mistake of her life. 

His rage was now his ultimate weapon. 

Jacob quietly rushed back to his study and threw her glass into the fireplace and watched it explode then he poured and drank another — then three more. 

The noise from Jacob's fireplace was noticeable from the drawing room where Julian and Celeste were making love. She gasped and covered herself while Julain was below her. It was as if she had been taken out of a trance. 

"What am u doing, you — you need to go." She said. 

"But -- " he began. 

"Go. Please!" She replied. 

He got dressed, as did she. They walked over to her and smiled, his pants still unbuttoned. He kissed her and she took his kiss. She wanted more, but knew something had happened that shouldn't have.

As Julian left, he went through the front door. Celeste ran passed the back entrance that was near a back staircase and as she did saw the back door open that led to where Aaron had the family cars. 

She went up to Jacob's study. It was empty.

She went down the hall to their bedroom. It was empty.

She went to the library, the billiards room, she went to the ball room and the dining room, then the family dining room and the second study, and the private kitchen near the back of the house, and finally to one of the guests rooms and a second guest room and then to the main kitchen where Jane was cleaning up the counter where she had been making something to eat. 

"He's gone ma'am." Jane said. "He came down and I quickly made something for them to eat on their way out."

"What?" Celeste asked, her voice frightened. 

Jane turned around, her face unable to show any expression but fear.

"Mr. Lord." She said with a pregnant pause. "And Mrs. Fabian."

"Fabian? HE TOOK FABIAN?" 

Jane nodded her face and words frozen in shock. 

Celeste rushed up the back stairs again and went to Fabian's bedroom and saw his bed empty. 

Her son was gone. Jacob had taken him in a fit of rage and anger and to spite his cheating, betraying wife. Her ambitious powerplay blowing up in her face in way only Jacob could concoct: using their son as the ultimate weapon of revenge. 

Celeste stood in the empty child's bedroom, his bedsheets pulled down as if the boy was literally yanked out. A stuffed teddy bear lay face down half under the boy's pillow, signs his father was in a rush to flee.

The devastated mother looked down at her hand, her giant diamond wedding ring caught the light of the small lamp with cut outs of zoo animals in the shade. She watched as her hand trembled. Suddenly the feeling of lightheadedness came over her -- and she fainted. 

The tables at Tirymor had turned once again.

***

Later that night, a suit on the fourth floor of the Village Inn lit the front parlor. Dr. Julian Pascal, who had yet to secure his own home in the village was hunched over the cherrywood desk writing a letter to someone he had worked for. He described Johnathon’s hypnosis session and the strange and curious things that were revealed. The interesting reveals of the alive been dead and the dead being alive. The secrets of the Lord family felt incredibly familiar to Julian. Strangely so. 

“I’m very close to getting what you need.” He said in the letter. “I’ve already found a willing participant in my search in Celeste DeViana-Lord. She fell rather quickly. I will need some more time but when I get more information I can finally give you the hope you’ve been looking for. It won’t be that much longer this I promise.” 

Julian looked down at the letter, his face half lit by the lantern on his desk and smiled cryptically.

Then he finished “When the time is right and I know the whereabouts of the mixling Gabriel I will send for your arrival. Until then, keep faith in me. — Arameed.” 

Then Julian sealed the envelope by melting a blood red candle. Three thick drops of wax fell on the envelope and he pressed into the wax a ring with a fanged dragon and two’s mirrored interlocking letter D carved into it.

Julian went over and placed it on a table to be sent out. In the glass of a picture of Welshport on the wall was Julian Pascal reflection that suddenly morphed into the haggard, old and white bearded face Arameed Ekatianov — the shadowy sorcerer and confidant of vampire queen Dominique DoShall.

****
PRESNT DAY - BELLEMORE BEACH HOUSE

The Jordans reunite 

Night had come Aurora finished recounting entire story of everything that happened while Evie, Matthew and Gabriel were away fighting their own battles in Scottland. During the last moments of her retelling of the events, Nik had arrived, there was rumor around the village that evening that the widow of Sebastian Lord had returned to town -- without him.

"I -- I'm so happy you're safe, all of you, I'm so happy all of you are safe." She said, reaching for Nik's hand, he pulled her hand and they fell into the tightest hug. "I missed you so much." She said, he squeezed her tighter.

"There's still a lot we have to figure out." Nik replied. 

"With Caleb?" Matthew asked.

Nik nodded, Aurora said nothing but the worry in her eyes spoke volumes on how consumed she was about the next step in getting her child back. 

"In due time." She finally said, we'll let Filipe and Mary adjust to everything they've gone through."  

"We're glad you're all back and safe too." Nik said. "A damn! Cousin Roman! What a treat it is to see you again after so many years.!! It's been, what, 9? 10?" Nik added.

Roman smiled, almost embarrassed to be lavished on by his aunt and cousin Nikolas. "More, I think. I feel like I'm home." He replied.

"So, I take it since Sebastian isn't here with you, that things didn't work out." Nik added, missing Evie and Matthew's explanation. 

Evie took a breath "You missed my introduction, little brother." She chuckled. "I'll fill you in tomorrow, it's getting late and we've had a really long journey back."

"Of course!" Nik said. 

"Your room is as you left it." Aurora smiled.

***

Evie and Matthew make love

Later that night, Evie and Matthew, the newly reengaged couple, were getting ready for bed, still stunned after hearing Aurora's story. It was overwhelming and frightening and Evie wasn't sure what to make of it all. It was still so fresh even in Aurora's mind, that it almost felt unreal. 

"You ok?" Matthew asked, as he lay in bed, the mocha skin if his bare chest glowing in contrast to the white sheets of the bed.

"Just thinking about Celeste." Evie replied, surprising him. 

"The two of you really went through something a while back. Maybe she could use your friendship again. I can't imagine there's anyone in the Lord family she can turn to besides you. After all, you’re still a Lord too." He said.

"I suppose." Evie replied uncomfortable with that notion and still sounding conflicted after how Celeste treated  their friendship when it fell apart. 

"You know, if you think about it your situations are almost exactly the same except Jacob didn’t kidnap Celeste too. For her it might be a bit more worse not knowing where Fabian is. At least you knew you could get to Gabriel in that castle." Matthew said, as he shifted in bed to look at Evie as she looked back through the mirror at him.

"You're right." Evie sighed, "It's going to take a lot for me to go there and talk to her, there's a lot more than just our history and we need to discuss. All this talk of being arbiter of Gabriel’s trust is strange knowing Sebastian isn’t really dead. She and i definitely have to finally face each other and what she did to me." 

"She took custody of Gabriel thinking you died Evie.” He reminded her. 

“But tried to keep him!” She shot back. “If it was t for Rebecca…” he interrupted. 

“Go to Tirymor — talk to Celeste." Matthew said, his voice clearly worried for Evie stepping back in that mansion even for a visit.

 
Evie, who was sitting at her vanity brushing her long honey brown hair turned around with a smile on her face. She got up on the bed where Matthew was already laying on. She crawled up like a kitten stalking its pray and jumped on Matthew kissing his face.

"Are you worried for me?" She giggled. "Are you worried big-wicked-Celeste will lock me in some chamber and I'll never be free again?!" 

Matthew rolled his eyes, and then rolled on top of her as her legs flung around his body cradling him. He kissed her lips then moved to her neck. 

"Stranger things have happened." He whispered in her ear.

He lifted his head and stared in her eyes. They were the color of the sea, blue and green, specks of yellow in the center. She ran her hand through his thick black and smiled.

"You don't have to worry. Celeste doesn't scare me, she was my friend at one point too. She'll understand she has to give Gabriel what is rightfully his." Evie said.

"There are other things -- " Matthew began before she interrupted. 

"We're together now. We're free of everything and anyone who wants to hurt us. We're going to be together forever, and no one, not anyone, can ever try to separate us ever again." She said. 

He kissed her again and back in their own bed, in their own home, the engaged couple made love with the bedroom windows open listening to the crashing waves of the sea outside. She felt so connected to him, connected like hadn’t been with anyone in all her life. 

His lips searched her whole body and came back to her mouth that was slightly parted. They kissed; their tongues meeting. He parted her legs and got between them and they came together in unison with a crash of a wave on the beach just outside. It was perfect. 

They finally felt free to be together without fear. 

***

Downstairs, Aurora came into the kitchen where her nephew Roman was stirring some powdered chocolate into hot milk. She wrapped her robe around her body and laughed, starling him.

"Sorry!" He said. "I couldn't sleep and needed something..." He said pausing.

"I know. I know. We used to do this for you when you were just a little boy, you always had such a sweet tooth." She said of him. 

"I didn't mean to wake you." He asked.

"No, it wasn't you. I haven't slept well in a very long time. So I can relate." She told him. "So, tell me, is this about being so close to your father?" 

Roman nodded. He hadn't seen his father - ever. He knew of him; his name, his whereabouts, but his mother Miranda had kept Roman a secret from him all his life. Aurora, Miranda's sister, hated this fact, things were different now. Roman and his father were finally in the same city.

"You should go to him but be gentle. He's been through a lot." She said. 

"Do you think he'll want to -- have a relationship with me?" Roman asked, almost sounding like a little boy.

Aurora smiled big and pulled her sweet nephew into a hug and held him. "Darling, your father has raised children that were not his. He would be elated to meet you. I promise you. Go, go to him and speak with him soon. I know he will welcome you." 

Aurora's words hit home with Roman. He took a sip from his hot coco and went to bed leaving Aurora in the kitchen alone to wonder, if she too should go to Roman's biological father to deal with another family situation the two of them had in common. 

****
BERLIN, GERMANY

The new Lords 

At around the same time, inside a large city mansion of four floors on the east side of Berlin at around 7 in the morning, a maid name Bruna rushed down a hall in her black and white uniform with a silver tray with mail. She quickly entered the bedroom of the widow of the former American Ambassador to the German Empire, Campbell Hayward, who was already dressed in a long sleek beaded dark blue dress, her light blonde hair tightly wrapped up in twist. She sat at the window reading a book in this dress as if she were waiting for a driver to take her to a fancy ball.

At the age of 66, she had become a widow prematurely ten years prior, left alone with her daughter Athena who'd grown into a beautiful young woman. 

The widow Hayward kept mostly to herself now and busy with projects around the house as she was currently hosting house guests from Munich.

"Ihre Post, Madame." The maid said, passing the silver tray topped with white envelopes of mail.

"Danka, Bruna." The widow said, Bruna curtsied. 

The widow nodded, flashed her bright blue eyes and took the letters written to her: Mrs. ALIXANDRIA LORD-HAYWARD. Albert Lord's youngest and last surviving sibling. 

Alixandria sifted through the mail. Letters from friends in Paris, Madrid, Lisbon. One from America caught her eye. She slid a sharp shiny letter opener with her monogram carved in it's ivory handle through the envelope flap and yanked out the letter. Handwritten. Addressed to Aunt Alix.

It was from Jacob. 

The story he tore through in his writing sent Alix into a tizzy. She hadn't heard much from her family in Welshport in years. She could remember the last occasions, in letters, announcing Albert’s death 30 years ago, and two letters announcing Sebastian’s marriage to Evie, and Jacob’s marriage to Celeste. All occasions she and her daughter Athena did not attend. 

So distant was she from her family's past that her husband and daughter had never even met them. Even more distant was Alix’s connection to the family business; a role she never was allowed to be looped in on, apart from rights as a Lord by birth. For that she was allowed to recoup revenue all this time by way of her representatives in the company’s board. 

Alix's lack connection to her family in America didn’t stop Jacob from divulging everything in hopes for an ally. 

In his letter addressed to “Dearest Aunt Alix”, Jacob dragged the family and their business associates through the dirt. His complaints read:

"This board of trustees is filled with treacherous greed and the money that you, my dear aunt, are receiving in payments from the family trust is being handled by men who only have their own self-interests at hand. I implore you to come to Welshport yourself and remove them OR... you can sign that power over to me: your nephew and I would gladly take your interest in our family's legacy to heart. Along with reinstating myself as head of a company my father -- and your brother-- built with his own blood, sweat and tears.

 In full discloser, I have also written to my cousin and your nephew Calgary III with the same suggestions. With your chairs I can regain power of the company I have built and when I have full control I shall sell them back to you both. Enclosed are forms, you can sign each and this I will do." 

Reading this, Alixandria laughed out loud. She could tell her nephew was just as cunning as her late older brother Calgary Lord II. 

"He's nothing of Albert." She said with a chuckle of Jacob lacking his father Albert's warmth that she so fondly remembered. “That's all Lockwood.” She added mentioning Rebecca’s maiden name.

She got up from her chair, the beads in her hair matching the dress sparkled in the morning light and walked out to the hallway of her mansion. She could hear her guests were awake and moving about one of the upstairs parlors. 

"Perfect." She said to herself. 

Alix walked into the parlor with a grin on her pristine face and slapped the note from Jacob on the table in front of the guests who were having their coffee.

"Well, it looks like he's at it again. What do you think of this?" Alix said. "Pulling the strings just like always." 

A man's hand reached over and grabbed the letter and slid it across the table. It was Alix's nephew, Calgary "Cal" Lord III, the son of her late older brother. He had been living with Alix and her daughter Athena for a few years, leaving his own home in Paris for reasons he’d never disclosed. He was a live wire of man, in his late 30s. Sun kissed skin and tall. He hadn’t seen his cousins in America in years—since he was a teenager in face. 

Cal took the letter from Jacob to Alix and read it, then looked back at Alix and smiled gleefully.

"Well, well, well." He said. "Looks like our American cousins are a bit in the lurch. aren't they? Again."

Athena, 15 years Cal's junior rolled her eyes. She’d hated him all her life and found him unbearably snobbish and out of touch with the world outside the gilded mansions they hid behind. And she’d heard rumos of his escapades in Paris that got him exiled from the wealthy Parisian circles. 

What made her disgust for him even more was the announcement, just two years earlier, that she would be married. To Cal, her own first cousin. It was an old money tradition to keep family riches close, to keep family blood-lines intact. It was something she fought against but in the end, her overpowering mother won the argument.

"What are you thinking of doing?" Athena asked, knowing Cal and her mother had always wondered what it would be like to see Welshport and Tirymor House up-close and personal. 

"Well, we're Lords too!" Alix said with an arched brow. "And that house isn't just theirs, it's mine too. If the family is in shambles as much as Jacob says it is, somebody's got to be there to take care it. Who better than me, the last living child Johan Lord.” 

Athena narrowed her eyes at her mother. She could see the wheels turning. "Using Grandfather Johan’s name — that’s new. Do you want to salvage the business itself in his name or are you standing on the family linage for the sake of it?" She asked. 

"Can't it be both?" Cal replied, as Athena rolled her eyes.

"Athena! Really! My brothers and I grew up in that mansion, it's part of my heritage, YOUR heritage too. So, I expect you to take this seriously.” Alix replied. 

“How can I? You’ve never once showed the slightest interest in any of them until now.” Athena noted. 

“It’s never too late to reconnect. The family needs us.” Cal answered. 

“Vultures.” Athena whispered. 

“Thats enough. Both of you. I’ve decided that it’s time for a change and I won’t take no for an answer. No from anyone.” Alix said glaring at her daughter. “First thing's first -- we get ourselves on the next ship to Welshport for a little Lord family reunion." 

Athena scoffed and got up from her chair and stormed out. She wanted nothing to do with this. But as with many things in her life, she saw that she was out-voted. Her mother and her cousin/fiancé knew what they wanted.  

Cal smiled back at Alixandria who took Athena's seat in front of him, he picked up the letter again and smiled coldly, "Welshport will never know what hit it."

“That's a promise I intend we keep.” Alix replied in a low cold voice.