Millbank Manor/The Café Royal
August 1995
Having dinner at the Dorchester in the company of a beautiful woman is always a pleasant way to spend an evening, so it was there that Claire and I went to celebrate two months of seeing each other. Over that time we had been meeting each other regularly, say once or twice a week as her schedule at Bart's permitted, to talk, to dine, and to generally enjoy each other's company, but nothing more.
I suppose to some degree I was being over cautious. The meeting with Annabel and Karl had reopened wounds that I had thought were healing, and I was afraid that my instant attraction to Claire had been influenced by that meeting. Hitting the rebound five years on, I suppose. However, as I got to know her better, I became more and more certain that my initial feeling had been correct, and that she and Elizabeth were connected over time. Both Grey and Gray had gone a long way towards convincing me of the possibility of souls reincarnating, and Eric's fateful reaction to Kirk's wife Betty had confirmed it further. What I had never expected, was that I would be lucky enough to find the new...incarnation...of my late wife.
"Thank you for dinner," she said, smiling, as we left the hotel and crossed Deanery Street to my town house.
"My pleasure, as always," I replied, "can I offer you a night cap before I call you a cab?"
"Actually," she answered, a little hesitantly, "I was wondering if you would be willing to let me stay tonight."
My immediate reaction was surprise. I genuinely hadn't dared to hope that she would want more than friendship from me as time passed, much as I had wished for more.
"Is there a problem?" she asked, suddenly sounding nervous and embarrassed, "if there is, then I can go..."
"No, it's not that," I answered, quickly, "I would love you to stay. I just hadn't really realised that you felt that way."
She laughed, gently and without malice. "Ah Robert," she said, finally, as I unlocked the front door and we stepped inside, "I've seen you working and you always appear professional and frighteningly competent. What is it about me that makes you so nervous?"
"What do you mean frighteningly competent? I asked, trying to avoid the real question, as I held the door to the drawing room open for her.
"Some of the magical tricks you pull. I've tried to emulate a few of them and never succeeded," she answered, then smiled, "you're dodging the question."
I met her gaze, trying to work out what, if anything, I could say that would satisfy her curiosity. She obviously caught my indecision, though, as after a brief moment she quietly continued. "I thought you were going to ask me to sleep with you that first night, after the dinner dance at the Café Royal, and I have been expecting you to ask ever since, but you never have. Is there something wrong? Have I completely misread your intentions?" she asked, and she looked a little embarrassed as she finished.
"No, you haven't misread my intentions," I replied, slowly, "it's just...I wanted to be sure in my own mind that it was the right thing to do before asking you."
I walked over to the drinks cabinet, took out two brandy glasses and a decanter of Armagnac, and poured one for each of us. I handed one to her, and then sat down on the couch, hunched over my own glass and warming it gently between my hands. Moments later, I felt her sit down beside me, and her hand reached for my shoulder.
"Do you want to explain that last comment?" she said, quietly, "after all, it's not as if either of us are children."
Still looking at the Armagnac swirling around in my glass as I moved it, I again tried to work out how much to say, and finally, I plucked up the courage to answer.
"The day I met you I had just had a blazing row with my former lover. William's mother. Then, when I saw you at dinner I was struck by how much you reminded me of someone I had far fonder memories of. I suppose that since then I have been trying to sort out my feelings." I paused, trying to work out what to say next, then continued. "To put it bluntly, I did not want to end up hurting you because my own emotions were all screwed up."
"Ah," she muttered, "I am beginning to think that perhaps I shouldn't have suggested staying."
As she spoke, I finally tore my eyes from the Armagnac and I realised just how much it would hurt if she left. "Don't," I said, quietly, "it's alright. I do want you to stay."
She returned my gaze and I saw her smile. "Thanks, de Lacy. I thought you'd never ask," she answered, a mischievous grin on her features. With that, she moved her mouth towards mine and we kissed, and the passion on both our parts was surprisingly intense. She broke off after half a minute or so, the atmosphere still charged with emotion.
"Who was she?" she asked, mildly, "I would like to know."
"Who?" I asked, finally taking a drink from my glass.
"The woman I reminded you of. She sounds to have had a profound effect on you."
"Her name was Elizabeth. She was my cousin and we grew up together, and for a short time she was my wife."
"Andrew's mother?" she asked, her voice gentle, "you've never mentioned her, but reading between the lines I got the impression that your sons were only half brothers."
"Yes, Andrew's mother," I replied.
"And the way you look when you think about her, I would say the wounds are still surprisingly fresh. What happened to her?"
"Does it really matter? It was all a very long time ago."
"It obviously matters to you," came her reply, and I felt her fingertips brush my temple. Then, unexpectedly, I felt a gentle probe at my mental shields. Startled, I pulled away and stood up, some of the brandy spilling as I jogged the glass.
"What are you doing?" I asked, alarmed.
"I'm sorry," she replied, her face apologetic, "but you looked as if you needed shocking back to your senses. I'm surprised you noticed so quickly though...and for the record you have the strongest shields I have ever come across."
"I keep them that way for a reason," I replied, a little tersely.
"What is it you don't want me to see?" she asked, undaunted. Her tone held no trace of apology for what she had done. A strangely familial attitude.
"It's hard to explain," I replied, crossing to stand beside the fireplace, leaning with my right arm on the mantelpiece.
"I am quite willing to listen," she replied, a trace of hurt in her voice, "because I am attracted to you, and I had thought that it was mutual. Tell me. Have you ever let anyone past those shields?"
"Only members of my family and a couple of other very old friends."
"Never a lover?" she asked, rising from her seat and coming over to join me. I felt her hands on my shoulders, as she gently started massaging them to relieve the tension I hadn't known had built up.
"No. It never occurred to me to ask," I said, finally, "I'm not even sure any of them could have...mind reading is a preserve of the Talented, and I have never had a lover that qualified."
"There have been that many?" Her tone was a combination of taken aback and a trifle offended.
"I am older than I look, Claire," I said, quietly.
"I can't spot any youth spells on you," she said, her tone businesslike, and the fact that she could even tell puzzled me. "Robert, you genuinely surprise me. To bring down your shields when making love and share the mind of your partner is a profoundly intense experience. What about this Elizabeth, who made such an impression on you? Were you never tempted to try?"
"She was never tested for the Talent."
"Lord, Robert. Why ever not? Everyone has the right to be tested."
I stood for a moment, trying to work out how to explain that in 1720 women did not get the chance, but I could not find the words. Then, obviously noting my discomfort, she gently moved her hand to my face and slowly turned my head towards her. We kissed again, and as we did so I felt her mental defences go down. Very carefully, trying to make sure that I did not harm her, I probed her mind to be met by a wall of emotions - attraction, passion, confusion, and what seemed to be the basis of love - and I realised that just then I wanted her more than I wanted anything else in the world.
"Your turn," she said, quietly.
"You may be surprised at what you find," I replied, feeling my resistance begin to falter, "please, don't be afraid. I don't want to hurt you."
"Why are you so convinced that I will be?" she asked, her brow furrowing a little in confusion.
"I suppose you will only understand afterwards," I answered, perhaps a little lamely, and slowly and gently I started bringing down the walls. Once again I felt her mental probe, but this time I forced myself to endure it, and soon I felt to be bathing in the warm emotions she was radiating.
And then she froze.
"Oh my God," she thought, more than spoke, and I detected fear and confusion in her. I pulled out of her grip and turned towards her, to see that she looked rather pale.
"I tried to tell you," I said, sadly.
"It's impossible," she croaked, pulling away and crossing to sit on the arm of the couch, "no-one can be that old. You're still playing games with me."
"No."
"Robert, I knew that you had been being cagey with me over the past couple of months, but this is incredible. Hell, I'd at least thought you were human, rather than some kind of...Hell, I don't know what you are from what I just saw."
Her words stung, and I flinched as if I had been hit. "I cannot help who I am," I argued, a little annoyed, "it is not as if I am some evil alien who's come to destroy this place. This Shadow, this country, is my home. I was born here."
"Nearly three hundred years ago..." she answered, her voice tailing off to virtually nothing.
"And I would protect it with my life."
"What are you?"
"I am a Prince of Amber. My family are unusual, powerful, immortal and a long, long way from here. I am on Terra Magica because I love the place, and I have lived here for the majority of my life. I do not really want to be anywhere else, although in time I will probably have to take up responsibilities that will keep me away from here for longer than I would like."
I crossed to her and sat down beside her. "I cannot help what I am, any more than I have a choice in who I am, and I am sorry that it frightens you. If you wish, I can try this again and let you read things in a more logical order."
"What do you intend to do with me now I know?" she asked, still afraid.
"For goodness sake, Claire, why should I want to do anything to hurt you?" I replied, feeling emptier inside than I had for a very long time. If I said and did the wrong thing now, I would lose her for good.
In the end, I decided that the only possibility was honesty, and settled for that. "Just at this moment, what I would like is to go upstairs and make love to you. If that is not what you want, then I will call you a cab, and you can go home, and I guarantee that if you want nothing further to do with me, I will respect that."
She looked me dead in the eyes as I spoke, and very slowly I saw the beginning of trust growing in them once more.
"I'm sorry, Robert," she said at last, "you were right, I shouldn't have pushed. It is just that what I saw scared the Hell out of me. To realise that the man you have been seeing for two months is some kind of demi-god is disturbing, to put it mildly. It even looked to me as if you thought of yourself as some kind of benevolent deity to Terra Magica. Either you're insane..."
"Or what you saw is the truth. Do you want me to call you a cab?"
She paused for a moment, and then shook her head, and I felt myself relax a little. Slowly I realised that the thought of her walking out on me was becoming more and more painful with every passing minute.
"Do you want to try that mental probe again?"
"Perhaps it can wait until later," came the answer, and our lips met again. I noticed that her shields were still down, and very carefully I attempted to do the same once more. This time, however, I controlled the flow of information, to try and have it all make more sense to her, and slowly acceptance joined the other emotions that were charging both of us.
"Shall we adjourn?" she mentally asked, at last. I smiled and teleported us upstairs to my room. We undressed quickly, and then I pulled her gently down onto the bed, and soon we were both lost in the intensity of our mental, and physical lovemaking.