The More I See You.pdf

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The More I See You

By Lynn Kurland

I have you fast in my fortress, And will not let you depart, But put

you down into the dungeon

In the round-tower of my heart.

And there will I keep you forever,

Yes, forever and a day, Till the walls shall crumble to ruin,

And moulder in the dust away!

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Jessica Blakely didn't believe in Fate.

Yet as she stood at the top of a medieval circular staircase and

peered down into its gloomy depths, she had to wonder if someone

other than herself might be at the heirr of her ship, as it were.

Things were definitely not progressing as she had planned. Surely

Fate had known she wasn't at all interested in stark, bare castles or

knights in rusting armor.

Surely. She took a deep breath and forced herself to examine the

turns of events that had brought her to her present perch. Things

had seemed so logical at the time. She'd gone on a blind date,

accepted said blind date's invitation to go to England as part of his

university department's faculty sabbatical, then hopped cheerfully

on a plane with him two weeks later.

Their host was Lord Henry de Galtres, possessor of a beautifully

maintained Victorian manor house. Jessica had taken one look and

fallen instantly in love-with the house, that is. The appointments

were luxurious, the food heavenly, and the surrounding

countryside idyllic. The only downside was that for some

unfathomable reason, Lord Henry had decided that the crumbling

castle attached to his house was something that needed to remain

undemolished. Just the sight of it had sent chills down Jessica's

spine. She couldn't say why, and she hadn't wanted to dig around

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to find the answer.

Instead, she'd availed herself of all the modem comforts Lord

Henry's house could provide. And she'd been certain that when she

could tear herself away from her temporary home-away-from-

home, she might even venture to London for a little savings-

account-reducing shopping at Harrods. Yet before she could find

herself facing a cash register, she'd been driven to seek sanctuary

in the crumbling castle attached to Lord Henry's house.

There was something seriously amiss in her life. A draft hit her

square in the face, loaded with the smell of seven centuries' worth

of mustiness. She coughed and flapped her hand in front of her

nose. Maybe she should have kept her big mouth shut and avoided

expressing any disbelief in Providence.

Then again, it probably would have been best if she'd remained

silent a long time ago, maybe before she'd agreed to that blind

date. She gave that some thought, then shook her head. Her

troubles had begun long before her outing with Archibald Stafford

III. In fact, she could lay her finger on the precise moment when

she had lost control and Fate had taken over.

Piano lessons. At age five. You wouldn't think that something so

innocuous, so innocent and child-friendly would have led a

woman where she never had any intention of having gone, but

Jessica couldn't find any evidence to contradict the results.

Piano lessons had led to music scholarships, which had led to a

career in music that had somehow demolished her social life,

leaving her no choice but to sink to accepting the latest in a series

of hopeless blind dates: Archie Stafford and his shiny penny

loafers. Archie was the one who had invited her to England for a

month with all expenses paid. He had landed the trip thanks to a

great deal of sucking up to the dean of his department. He didn't

exactly fit in with the rest of the good old boys who clustered with

the dean and Lord Henry every night smoking cigars into the wee

hours, but maybe that's what Archie aspired to.

Jessica wondered now how hard up he must have been for a date

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to have asked her to come along. At the time he'd invited her,

though, she'd been too busy thinking about tea and crumpets to let

the invitation worry her. It had been a university-sponsored outing.

She'd felt perfectly safe.

Unfortunately, being Archie's guest also meant that she had to

speak to him, and that was something she wished she could avoid

for the next three weeks. It was only on the flight over that she'd

discovered the depth of his swininess. She made a mental note

never to pull out her passport for anyone she'd known less than a

month if such an occasion should arise again.

But like it or not, she was stuck with him for this trip, which

meant at the very least polite conversation, and if nothing else, her

mother had instilled in her a deep compulsion to be polite.

Of course, being civil didn't mean she couldn't escape now and

then-which was precisely what she was doing at present.

Unfortunately escape had meant finding the one place where

Archie would never think to look for her.

The depths of Henry's medieval castle. She wondered if an alarm

would sound if she disconnected the rope that barred her way. She

looked to her left and saw that there were a great many people who

would bear such an alarm if it sounded. Maybe she wouldn't be

noticed in the ensuing panic. Apparently Lord Henry funded some

of his house upkeep by conducting tours of his castle. Those tours

were seemingly well attended, if the one in progress was any

indication.

Jessica eyed the sightseers. They were moving in a herd like

fashion and it was possible they might set up a stampede if she

startled them. They were uncomfortably nestled together, gaping at

cordoned-off family heirlooms, also uncomfortably nestled

together- Marcham as a prime destination spot and Jessica seemed

to have placed herself in the midst of the latest crowd at the

precise moment she needed peace and quiet. She had already done

the castle tour and learned more than she wanted to know about

Burwyck-on-the-Sea. Another lesson medieval happenings was the

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last thing she needed at the moment.

Merce---Of course the castle here at Marcham, or ham, as it

was known in the 1300s, was one of the family's minor holdings.

Even though it has been added to during the years and extensively

remodeled during the Victorian period, it is not the most

impressive of the family's possessions. The true gem of the de

Galtres crown

lies a hundred and fifty kilometers away on the eastern coast. If we

move further along here, you'll find a painting of the 'Keep."

The crowd shuffled to the left obediently as the tour guide

continued with his speech. "As you can see here in this rendering

of Burwyck-on-the-Sea-aptly named, if I might offer an opinion-

the most remarkable feature of the family's original seat is

the round tower built not into the center of the bailey as

we find in Pembroke Castle, but rather into the outer seawall. I

imagine the third lord of the de Galtres family fancied having his

ocean view unobstructed-"

So Jessica and he heartily agreed with the sentiment, but for now

an ocean view was not what she was interested in. If the basement

was roped off it could only mean that it was free of tourists and

tour guides. It was also possible that below was where the castle

kept all its resident spiders and ghosts, but it was a chance she

would have to take. Archie would never think to look for her there

she would be ignored.

She put her shoulders back, unhooked the rope, and descended.

She stopped at the foot of the steps and looked for someplace

appropriate. Suits of armor stood at silent attention along both

walls. Lighting was minimal and creature comforts nonexistent,

but that didn't deter her. She walked over the flagstones until she

found a likely spot, then eased her way between a fierce-looking

knight brandishing a sword and another grimly holding a pike. She

did a quick cobweb check before she settled down with her back

against the stone wall. It was the first time that day she'd been

grateful for the heavy gown she wore. A medieval costume might

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