For All Time by Jude Deveraux

The note made her laugh, and what she liked best was that he wasn’t sulking because of what she’d said to him yesterday. She’d always despised sulkers! Sitting with their lips stuck out, wanting people to beg them to tell what they thought you had done wrong. Then you had to plead, explain, and grovel to get them to forgive you for something they had misunderstood. No, thank you!

  She went upstairs to the big bathroom and was glad the water had been turned on in the house. Her hair had come out of its braid, but then she remembered that it had been Graydon—no, Garrett—who had taken it down. Smiling at the memory of her dream, she rebraided it. Ten minutes later she was dressed in her workout clothes. There was a mirror on the back of the door and she glanced at herself. While it was true that she wasn’t athletic and didn’t belong to a sports club, her job entailed a lot of lifting of heavy garden flats and terra-cotta pots. All in all, she was glad she looked good in her tight clothes.

  When she went back down to the sitting room to get the basket, she glanced at the paneled wall that she knew concealed a door. She would have thought that in the bright light of day the hidden room would hold no fear for her, but it did. In fact, a part of her felt that if she opened the door and stepped inside, she would not come out alive.

  Grabbing the basket, Toby left the big house and hurried across the lane. She couldn’t help wondering how Graydon would react after the way she’d bawled him out. Maybe she shouldn’t have been so harsh. She could have modified her words. Actually, she should have sat down with him and, in an adult manner, told him what her complaints were.

  She hoped he wasn’t too depressed over their argument.

  When she got to the front door, she was about to open it, but a sound from the back made her turn to the path. As she got closer to the backyard, the sound was louder, almost like steel striking steel.

  She ran the last few steps, then halted.

  Graydon and Daire were both wearing loose white trousers tucked into black boots that laced halfway up their calves—and their upper bodies were bare. They were fighting each other with what looked to be heavy medieval broadswords.

  Toby stood under a tree and watched them. Daire was a bit taller, a few pounds heavier, and his skin was a few shades darker than Graydon’s. He was indeed beautiful, but it was Graydon whom she couldn’t take her eyes off. She’d seen him wearing very little when they’d gone swimming but they had been mostly underwater.

  The early morning sunlight glinted off his bare, sweat-glistening upper body. His dark hair and eyes seemed to gleam. There was no fat on him, just long, lean muscles, and very little hair on his chest. His pants hung so low that the V that led downward was exposed.

  The way he moved took her breath away. He and Daire circled each other, and when Daire swung his sword as though he meant to cut Graydon in half, Toby took a step forward, meaning to stop the fight. But Graydon leaped up and came down two feet away, missing Daire’s sword by no more than an inch.

  Laughing, Graydon said something in Lanconian. Daire replied with what seemed to be a threat and a ferocious swing of his sword. Again Graydon easily leaped away.

  For all that their fight showed enormous skill and beauty, Toby wanted it to stop. If Daire hit Graydon, he could injure him badly.

  It was Lorcan who saw Toby. The tall woman had just come out of the house. She was wearing the same white trousers and black boots as the men, but a tight black tank top covered her large breasts. In her hand was a sword like the men had.

  When Toby turned to look at Lorcan, she grimaced. Heaven only knew what the woman was going to think since Toby had been away all night. That she’d been out partying? Spending the night with a dozen men?

  Silently, Lorcan walked to Toby, her beautiful face expressionless.

  “Look,” Toby said, “I don’t want any problems. You and I—” She broke off because Lorcan went down on one knee in front of her. In a movement that looked as though Lorcan had rehearsed it a thousand times, she extended her arms straight out, her hands into fists, the palms down. Across her outstretched arms was the wide sword, and her head was bent forward so far that the back of her neck was exposed.

  In astonishment, Toby looked across the garden toward Graydon. He saw her just as Daire’s sword was flying toward his middle. When Graydon didn’t jump out of the way, Toby let out a little scream, her fist to her mouth.

  But Daire stopped his sword just in time to keep from slashing into Graydon.

  “Holy Jura!” Daire shouted, then said something in Lanconian that Toby felt sure was a string of curse words.

  But Graydon ignored the invective as he stood there looking at Toby.

  She started to say something but Daire strode forward to take his place beside Lorcan. They were in identical stances, both of them in one-legged kneeling positions, arms extended, heads bowed, their swords across their arms. As far as Toby could tell, Lorcan hadn’t moved an inch since she’d gone into the position.

  Graydon, moving to Toby, spoke. “They are offering their swords for you to use if you wish to remove their heads.”

  She looked at him to see if he was joking, but Graydon’s face was absolutely serious. “They have offended you and misjudged you,” he explained.

  “And I guess since I’m connected to their king, they deserve the ultimate punishment.” In answer, Graydon gave a curt affirmative nod.

  Toby’s impulse was to immediately tell them to get up, but that would seem insulting to their formality. She looked down at them. “I am impressed with your great loyalty to your future king and your country,” she said. “But you really should understand that not all women in this world are trying to get him. I just felt sorry for him for having no place to stay and … well, I’m not sure how the rest of it happened, but I can assure you that I do not have any plans to upset your country. That’s all. You can get up now.”

  But they didn’t move.

  Toby looked over them at Graydon. “You must say you forgive them.”

  “It’s you I don’t forgive,” she said. “So shouldn’t you be down there with them?”

  Graydon’s eyes showed he was suppressing a smile. “Kings only surrender if there’s a war.”

  Toby looked back at the two kneeling figures and thought that they must be aching from their stance. “I forgive you. Get up! Please.”

  Daire and Lorcan raised their heads. Lorcan looked solemn but Daire’s eyes were laughing. They stood up.

  “Come on,” Graydon said to Toby. “I’ll let you have a chance at beheading me.”

  “That’s the best offer I’ve had this year.”

  “I have weeks before I leave, so there’s still hope for better to come.” She tried not to laugh but wasn’t successful.

  “Let’s see what you can do,” Graydon said.

  She took the sword he held out to her, but then nearly fell backward. “How much does this thing weigh?”

  “About thirty-two pounds,” Graydon said as he held his straight out toward her.

  “I choose Daire to be my champion,” she said.

  Graydon was bending forward and beginning to circle her. “You’re confusing England with Lanconia. In my country each man is his own champion.”

  Toby lifted the heavy sword and stuck it down into one of the raised flower beds. “I have a wedding to plan, and now I know exactly what Victoria wants.” She started toward the house, but Graydon caught her by the waist, her back to his front. His lips were by her ear.

  “Do you want a surrender from me? A groveling apology?” he asked.

  She knew she should push him away but there was something so primeval, so visceral, about his sweaty bare chest against her back that she didn’t move. “I’d rather hear the truth. Did you send Lexie away?”

  “That was purely Rory’s idea.” There was pride in his voice. “I saw no reason to say no to his scheme.”

  “Did you give me Victoria’s wedding to plan and were you involved in relieving me of my job?”

  “No. That was all f
rom Victoria. I owe her a great deal. I like that you’re not gone all day. Any chance you could take the whole summer off?”

  “Why ask me? You and your brother and Victoria seem to be in charge of my life.” She twisted to look at him. “It’s hard to believe that I was beginning to think you were a sweet, gentle man. You seemed so mild that I was starting to wonder if you could handle being a king.”

  Smiling, he put his face on her neck, his lips not kissing but grazing her skin. “Kingship is born into a man.”

  “Or a woman.”

  “In my country a woman can be queen only if she marries a king.”

  “How very medieval of you. Tell me, do you pay women employees half the wages of men?”

  “Our women have no jobs outside the home. It is forbidden.”

  Toby glared. “Are you kidding me?”

  “You have seen Lorcan. What do you think she would say if a man told her she must stay home?”

  “His head would roll across the floor?”

  “Exactly.”

  “Arrogant, swaggering Kingsley,” she said. “That’s what Valentina said you were.”

  “And who is she?” Graydon asked, his arm tightening about her waist and his face more deeply buried in her neck. Against her backside she could feel his arousal.

  “Be careful or you’re going to embarrass yourself in front of your companions.”

  “To show I am a man with manly desires is an honor.”

  With a quick movement she twisted around to face him and he put both his arms loosely around her.

  “You have issued me a challenge and I accept it,” he said.

  Toby was realizing that it was a mistake to have turned around. Graydon in an open shirt standing behind her in the bathroom was bad, but him shirtless with her front almost, just about, touching his bare flesh was very bad. But she didn’t want to let him know that. Two could play at his flirting game.

  “Last night I had a very vivid dream and you were in it.” When he bent as though to kiss her neck, she moved her head away. “You were kissing me and begging me to marry you but I was saying no. I was going to marry Silas, a man who owns a big store.”

  “Tell me his name and I will cut him to pieces.”

  “No, this dream was in civilized times, when Kingsley House was first built. Actually, I saw a lot of people I know.”

  “I like this that you have on.” His hands went up her bare arms, feeling them, as though testing for muscle. “You have some strength here.”

  She took a quick step back and got out of his embrace. “You’re more like your brother than you seem.”

  “To the world we are identical.”

  “Ha!” Toby said. “He’s better looking than you are.”

  “Not as short and pale as I am?” His eyes were teasing as he picked up some bright yellow, long, narrow straps. He took her hand in his and began to wrap the cloth tightly around it.

  “What’s this for?”

  Graydon nodded toward Daire, who was standing nearby holding some red leather boxing gloves. “I am going to honor your challenge by letting you hit me.”

  “Sounds good, but what challenge did I give you? No. Wait! It isn’t what I said about not falling in love with you, is it?”

  Graydon had one of her hands done. The binding was very snug and wouldn’t allow her wrist to bend. “I like the other one better.”

  At first Toby didn’t know what he meant. “You mean that I’ve never wanted to … you know?”

  “Yes, that one.” He had both her hands wrapped and he inspected them, turning them over. Leaning forward, he whispered, “Do I have your permission to seduce you?” With that, he stepped back and nodded to Daire, who came forward with the boxing gloves and began to put them on Toby.

  She looked around Daire to see Graydon slipping his hands into some big leather pads. “So what would you do?” she asked. “Rose petals on my bed? Riding black horses at midnight? Or maybe long, flowery love letters?”

  When Toby’s gloves were on, Daire stepped away.

  “Have they all been tried on you?” Graydon asked as he stood before her.

  “That and much more. It started when I was sixteen and didn’t stop until I moved in with Lexie, with Jared nearby.”

  “Hit this pad with your left hand,” he said. “Do it quickly and pull back fast. Good,” he said when she’d done it. “Now come across with your right.”

  After her second hit, he took off the pads, went behind her to put his body close to hers, and ran his hand down the length of her arm. “When you hit with your right, turn your hand this way. Come back quickly. Don’t leave your arm extended so your body is unprotected.”

  He put the pads back on and stood before her. “Back and forth. Ten times.”

  It was an unusual exercise to Toby but already she was beginning to catch on.

  “Is such vigorous pursuit of a young girl usual in America?” he asked when the round was done.

  “No!” Toby said, then slammed her right glove hard into his hand pad.

  She didn’t see the way Graydon looked at Daire. She had some strength in her body!

  “My father is rich and my mother is cooperative,” Toby said as she stopped to take a breath. Boxing was an all-out sport that took every bit of a person’s mind and body.

  Graydon went behind her and again put his arms around her. This time he showed her how to do a left hook. He stepped away. “Left jab, right cross, left hook. Got it?”

  “I can try,” Toby said as she did the combination ten times.

  “I don’t need your father’s money or your mother’s approval,” Graydon said when she’d finished and he began to untie her gloves.

  “Good thing,” Toby answered. “If my mother knew about you, she’d be here screaming at me to run away. You’re not exactly available for marriage.”

  With her hand in his, the teasing left Graydon’s eyes and he looked at her seriously. “I don’t believe I’ve ever heard of a modern mother who is so intent on getting her daughter into a suitable marriage.”

  Toby started taking the wraps off her hands. “If I believe the dream I had last night, she has a reason to be so particular about who I marry. She lost a husband, three sons, and a son-in-law to the sea, and I—I mean Tabby—was fooling around in the garden with a man who said that the sea was in his blood. I bet Tabby married him, he died on his ship, and yet another sea widow was stuck in that old house. Whoever she married, I’m pretty sure that Tabby died in that room off the back of the big living room. Even today the place makes my skin crawl in fear!”

  When she looked up, the three Lanconians were all staring at her in wide-eyed silence. “Sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean to go into a tirade. It’s all from a dream I had, that’s all. It was just that it was so very real, I felt like I was there. Why are you looking at me like that?”

  Graydon smiled at her. “We are a superstitious country, that’s all. Shall we have something to eat? Why don’t we all go out to Seagrille? I find that all this talk of the sea has made me want some fish. Is that all right with you, Carpathia?”

  Toby looked at him. “How do you know that’s my name?”

  “You told me.”

  “No, I didn’t,” she said, “but I told Garrett and he called me that last night.”

  Graydon was frowning. “Is this the man in your dream who looks like me? Who you were kissing?”

  “Yes,” she said. “Usually, a dream fades during the day, but this one keeps getting stronger in my mind. It’s like I’m supposed to do something about it or with it, but I don’t know what.”

  “How about if we go out to lunch and you tell us all about your dream, every word of it? These two love a good ghost story, don’t you?”

  Obediently, Lorcan and Daire nodded, but they said nothing.

  “Who said anything about ghosts?” Toby asked.

  “No one, just a guess. What’s your favorite alcoholic beverage?”

  “I’m not much o
f a drinker but I do like a good frozen margarita now and then. And I need to talk to my boss about when I’m supposed to return to work.”

  “We’ll do all of it,” Graydon said, then stood there looking at her.

  It took her a moment to understand what he wanted: an answer to his question. As she turned away, smiling so he couldn’t see her, she said, “You may try,” then went into the house.

  Graydon carried Toby up the stairs to bed, but then, it was late and she’d had a long day. After lunch they’d gone to a beach to swim. There’d been a vigorous Lanconian ball game that the three of them were good at while Toby had to work to keep up. Afterward they’d walked around town and Toby had been a tour guide.

  At five, Graydon had started plying her with drinks and asking her more questions about her dream. The four of them had dinner, then Toby and Graydon went for a long walk along the water, followed by champagne.

  When Graydon saw Toby’s eyes drifting shut, he knew it was time to go home. She fell asleep in the car.

  Graydon put her on top of her bed and turned to leave, but he paused at the doorway. This wasn’t a situation he’d ever dealt with before. Drunken females only happened when Rory was around, and all Graydon had to do was tell someone to see that those young women got home safely.

  But as he looked at Toby curled up on the bed, still with her clothes and shoes on, he didn’t want anyone else to touch her.

  “Come on,” he said softly as he stood at the end of the bed, picked up her feet, and removed her shoes.

  She smiled, half asleep, and looked up at him for a moment. “My very own prince.”

  “I’m beginning to think that may be true,” he said, wondering how he could undress her more yet keep his sanity. “If I get your nightclothes, will you get into them?”

  “Sure,” she said and began to unbutton her blouse.

  Reluctantly stepping away, Graydon rummaged in her chest of drawers and withdrew a long white nightgown of soft cotton trimmed with rows of lace. “This all right?”

  Toby was lying on the bed with her blouse off, wearing one of her lacy bras. Her cotton trousers were unbuttoned, and she was sound asleep.