Chapter 40 Magellan #2
Magellan was too weary to know how to explain.
Fortunately, she didn’t have to yet. Godwin said, “That is all I can do for him now. Let him sleep. I’ll have someone stay to keep changing out the towels and give him the medicines to drink.
Now I’m afraid my second patient desperately needs assistance as well. ”
She tried to protest. “I can’t.”
“You must. I insist. You can return after you have tended to your needs.”
Magellan allowed herself to be escorted away by the young maid who’d been assigned to help her.
The woman showed her to a guest room where a warm bath was being readied.
A tray waited for her on the table with hot tea and finger sandwiches.
Magellan all but inhaled the little rectangles filled with dilled cream cheese and smoked salmon.
Then she ate two buttery shortbread cookies and chased it with a cup of tea laden with milk and sugar. Nothing had ever tasted so good.
Another cup of tea later, the hot bath was ready.
The smell of fresh citrus soap made her want to weep.
There was even a rinsing tub to start. With the maid’s help she was able to get the worst of the dirt off before she submerged herself in the sunken tub.
Then the woman helped shampoo her hair with a lavender-scented soap and left the room to give her time to soak.
Magellan closed her eyes with a blissful moan and lay in the water for a long time, letting her mind wander.
Rhys had to recover. They were not through the labyrinth.
They still needed one more part of the song.
He will recover, she tried to convince herself, willing it to be true.
Then she would figure out who she needed to meet in 1799.
She lay back in the water, too tired to think anymore.
The maid came back with a fresh gown and undergarments she said belonged to the earl’s mother, who was in London.
The gown was a completely different style than what Magellan had worn in 1829.
This one had a Grecian silhouette with an empire waist and was infinitely more comfortable.
There was no corset either. The maid swept up Magellan’s hair, even though it wasn’t yet dry, and wove it into a crown on her head.
Magellan rose, anxious to return to Rhys. “Thank you for your help.”
A footman came and instead of escorting her to the infirmary, he took her to the salon where the earl was waiting. Godwin stood and bowed. He had changed for dinner. His eyes gleamed with appreciation when he saw her. For a moment he looked terribly like Rhys.
She asked him, “Could you show me the way to the infirmary, please?”
“Later.” He waved a regal hand. “He has nursemaids aplenty seeing to his needs. Right now he is sleeping soundly.”
“I would still like to check on him.”
“After dinner, I insist. We have much to talk about.”
Magellan smiled faintly, desperately wishing Rhys were here with her. She did not want to be the one to explain this all to his father. What if he took it badly? Should she tell him who Rhys really was?
They arrived at the dining room, where a footman held out a chair for her while Godwin waited for her to sit first. He took a seat beside her at the head of the table. It was just the two of them and an army of footmen.
He said, “I admit I do not recognize the fairy nymph I met this afternoon. I would have to say now it must be Aphrodite who has come to visit Hereford Manor.”
Magellan gave a startled laugh, meeting his dancing eyes. Was Rhys’s father flirting with her? And where was the countess? Rhys’s mother was noticeably missing.
“Thank you, and thank you for the borrowed clothes.”
Godwin brushed aside her thanks with another wave and dismissed the servants, telling them, “Please leave us, and close the doors.”
Magellan swallowed, trying not to panic.
It felt a bit like waiting for the Inquisition, because the interrogation was about to begin.
She stared at the table instead of Rhys’s father.
An assortment of dishes had been set out so they could serve themselves.
Godwin prepared her plate while he said, “I thought it might be more practical to serve ourselves so that we may talk freely without other ears listening.”
He placed a full plate before her and surprised her by getting straight to the heart of the matter.
“You are correct. The stone circle was supposedly built by Merlin. There is a family legend that the center of Hereford’s labyrinth protects a doorway to other times.
My grandfather told me once he met a traveler who walked out of the labyrinth claiming he was from another century.
I always thought it a fanciful story.” He fingered his wineglass.
“Why don’t you tell me your version and then I’ll decide. ”
His eyes were keen, his words an open invitation, and her angst suddenly melted away—and she knew, just as she had been fated to meet Rhys, she’d been fated to meet Godwin too.
Perhaps it was the candlelight or the excellent 1790 vintage wine, but over the course of dinner Magellan told him everything.
The words poured from her easily. Instead of starting the story with the day the aurora borealis arrived in New York, she started with her childhood, with her being adopted by two elderly historians, her years being taught by Garesh, her discovery she could play any instrument without faltering, and Garesh gifting her the ring before he left.
She recounted the day the aurora borealis arrived, how the Earth’s poles were attempting to flip, and how she’d played the pipe organ and ended up in the past. She explained waking up in the labyrinth and meeting Rhys.
She did not say exactly when, because Rhys was wearing the family signet ring and was the Earl of Liron in 1829.
“Rhys is my son,” Godwin said quietly.
Magellan hesitated and nodded.
“How many children do I have?”
“Do you really want to know?” she asked softly.
Godwin slowly shook his head with a poignant smile. “No, forgive me. Do go on.”
Magellan left out any mention of the countess, Cecil, or Vivianne, and when she mentioned Gwynedd’s diary being the key to it all, Godwin started to laugh.
He tipped his head back and laughed out loud.
He couldn’t seem to stop, which in turned caused her to stop talking.
Was he drunk? They had gone through quite a bit of wine.
Perhaps she should resume the rest of the story tomorrow.
She hadn’t even mentioned the song and why they’d been propelled through time.
“So my son is translating this diary? Which I take it means he knows Old English?” Godwin was asking her.
“Yes. He’s very good with languages.”
“I should hope so if he’s the heir to Hereford Library.” Godwin smiled to himself as if enjoying a private joke. “What happened to this diary?”
“It was stolen from us in Frankfurt. That’s how Rhys got wounded.”
“Ah. And the Ley Lines, you say, brought you here.”
“Yes, after 1570 where a doctor tended to him.” She had yet to get into the specifics.
“How much do you believe in destiny, Magellan? A little or a lot?” Godwin had a mischievous glint in his eye. He and Rhys might look similar, but Godwin’s personality was nothing like Rhys’s. He was much more playful.
Magellan hesitated. Such a simple question, and she’d drunk her fair share of wine too tonight. “A lot.”
“Excellent. Then follow me.” Godwin nodded and stood up, offering her his arm. “I have something I need to show you.”
He led her from the dining room down the hall to the east wing. She knew the way. They were going to the library.
He told her, “I take great pride in Hereford’s library. We have one of the finest collections of ancient texts in all of Europe, which is why I am always acquiring more.” He hesitated, and suddenly Magellan felt full of anticipation when he said, “I recently acquired a book.”
He led her to the table by the alcove. The same desk Rhys would use in thirty years.
And there lying on top was Gwynedd’s diary surrounded by fresh notebooks and a stack of dictionaries.
Magellan couldn’t speak, too choked by emotion.
The triskelion carved into the leather gleamed in candlelight.
“You have it,” she whispered.
Godwin’s sharp eyes gauged her reaction, missing nothing. “You’re saying this book was stolen from you in 1165?”
She nodded, afraid to touch it.
“It recently came up for sale from a collector. Given Hereford is the guardian of Merlin’s stone circle, I am quite taken with any stories revolving around him and the Druids. But I have never read a personal account about his sister.”
Magellan reached out and traced the triskelion with her fingertip.
“The diary just arrived today. Right before you, in fact.” He raised his quizzing glass to his eye and stared at her to make his point. “I believe that is what would be called divine timing.”
Magellan nodded, tears welling in her eyes. The diary had come back to her. Godwin had unknowingly retrieved it for them with what felt like destiny’s hand. She had long since begun to believe Gwynedd was a part of her. And it seemed Gwynedd’s triskelion was too.
Gwynedd, Merlin, and Taliesin had been a triskelion over a thousand years ago. Two comets and a North Star. Now Magellan felt as if she had found the missing piece of their journey. And it wasn’t the diary. It was Godwin.