Chapter 19 Riddles
Despite all the action she had at night, Lizzie woke up as soon as the morning sun peeked between Brun’s gray curtains.
He was still fast asleep so she carefully moved away his arm (which was again firmly wrapped around her body as if she were his favourite teddy) and left the bed, tiptoeing towards her own room while collecting her scattered pieces of clothing from the floor.
She washed her face and quickly brushed her hair into a braid, and after pulling up the jeans and T-shirt of the day, Lizzie went down as silently as she could.
Making love to Brun had been far more spectacular than any of the fantasies she had entertained in the past weeks. He had been both a gentle and eager lover, a combination which was sure to satisfy any woman, and yet she still found hard to sleep after the conversation they had, unable to think of anything else but the horror of the scars he bore, both outside and inside.
She walked into the dining room where the remnants of their dinner were still scattered on the table and began to clear away the dishes. Lizzie was not particularly attracted by domestic work but figured that it would be a good mindless task to help her organise the thoughts in her head.
It was past eight o’clock when she finished cleaning and began to prepare breakfast, deciding that she would cook something special for him. Maybe pancakes? She had spotted a basket of fresh berries in the fridge…
It was about time someone pampered Brun.
Her mobile began to ring just as she cracked the eggs into the batter. After wiping her hands on a tea towel, she reached for the device over the kitchen island. Vivian’s name was flashing on the screen.
“Lizzie!” Vivian screeched on the other side before she could say hello, “Where the bloody hell have you been?”
Lizzie felt her cheeks burn. She had promised to keep Vivian appraised of the developments in Glennloch but had been with her head so full of Brun and all that Fae business that she completely forgot to text her friend.
“I’m so sorry!” she whimpered back, “I’ve been…” Lizzie hesitated. Telling her friend that she had been practicing spells would not be a good idea, “It’s been a busy few days over here.”
“Busy, huh?” Vivian repeated and her teasing tone made Lizzie cringe, “Did Brun get back?”
She had never been more glad to be speaking on the phone because she could feel her cheeks burning.
“Yes, he is back…”
“And what was the thing he wanted to talk to you about?”
Lizzie hesitated again. She was not a good liar by any measure and Vivian had the uncanny ability of being able to smell a fib a mile away.
“Yes, he… huh… Well, nothing too serious, just… huh… you know, things about my inheritance.”
Not entirely a lie…
The line was silent for a moment and Lizzie held her breath, bracing herself for the inevitable.
“You two had sex, didn’t you?”
Her blushing became stronger. Vivian could read her like a bloody book.
Probably anyone with a pulse can read me like a book…
“Vivian!” she scolded.
“Don’t be so prudish!” her friend scoffed back, “I’m sure you guys did the deed, I just wanted to hear from your mouth. I mean, there was enough sexual tension between you two to fill up a whole porn channel!”
Feeling the phantom of Brun’s hands on her body, Lizzie shivered.
Yeah, Vivian got that right!
“So tell me, did it happen when he came back? How did he pounce?” she made a pause and then squealed, “Oh my God! Was Mrs Clisham horrified? Did she walk on you while–”
“No, Vivian! Eww! Gross!” Lizzie cried, “The Clisham’s are on holidays–”
Realising that her mouth had been faster than her brain, Lizzie cut herself, but then it was too late.
“Ah! I knew it! I knew you did the deed!” Vivian sounded victorious, “Is he as hot as his looks suggest?”
Hotter. Way hotter…
“Vivian, I am not discussing my sex life with you over the phone!” she shout-whispered. There was no point in denying it.
“Well, that’s not very charitable of you,” Vivian whined, and then her tone softened, “I’m happy for you, I think you two make a lovely couple.”
A lovely couple. The words echoed in Lizzie’s head along with a stream of images of the future which no normal woman should entertain after only one night of mind-blowing sex. She shook her head vigorously to shake them away.
“I don’t know if I can use the C word…” she sounded too insecure even to her own ears, “This is all very new…”
“Why?” Vivian sounded surprised, “You don’t think he’s interested in something more… serious? Down the line, I mean… Obviously not right now.”
Lizzie hesitated. Was he? Should she be thinking about it? Already? No, too soon, too presumptuous. She was twenty-four, they had known each other for barely a month and had made love for the first time less than twelve hours before! She had other plans for her life. She had to get her career on the road.
“Viv, right now I’m thankful that when I woke up, he was still here!” she scoffed at how pathetic she sounded to her own years, “By the way, can you believe I met Finn again yesterday?”
“Get out of town!” Vivian squealed outraged, “What are the odds! What did that jerk want with you?”
“Honestly, I don’t know… I did not really let him speak and then he ran away, like a second before Brun walked back in.”
“Oh shit! You were with Hot Highlander when you met Finn?” Vivian screeched.
Hot Highlander. That one might stick.
“Yes, Brun took me for a car ride yesterday, for a day off from…” the words practicing spells came to the tip of her tongue, but Lizzie held them back just in time, “from work. We stopped for lunch on the road and then… poof! The jerk was there!”
Vivian was silent for a few seconds, “That’s so odd…”
“I know, it was very bizarre… To be honest I am still not sure whether Finn is stalking me or not… I mean, it’s just a lot of coincidence we should bump into each other twice in the space of a couple of weeks when I haven’t got a whiff of him in six years!”
“Maybe he heard that you’re now a rich Viscountess and is trying to worm himself into your life again?”
Lizzie nodded, even if Vivian could not see it, “Yes, the thought crossed my mind, though for the life in me I don’t know how he could have known that! It’s not like I put an advertisement on the newspaper or something.”
“Maybe your mum posted it on social media?”
She felt her guts twist into knots. That was highly likely.
“I haven’t thought about that… You’re probably right…” she huffed, “The case is that meeting with him threw me off a little, and I ended up babbling out all about Finn’s episode to Brun…”
Vivian groaned, “All?”
“Yep. Every. Embarrassing. Moment.”
There was a long silence on the other end of the line.
“And what did he say?” Vivian sounded mortified.
“He was the most perfect gentleman as usual… He listened patiently without passing any judgement…”
“I’m telling you: this man is a keeper,” Vivian cooed and then added, “Does he at least has a brother as hot as him?”
Vivian’s question hurt her more than she thought possible. Maybe Brun had brothers and sisters, uncles and aunts, cousins and nephews, all of whom had died hundreds of years before. He had been robbed of his whole life to be turned into a weapon.
Her stomach turned sour when she replied, “No, he’s… he’s an only child and has no family left.”
“Oh that’s sad,” Vivian commiserated with her, “And what else did you uncover about him?”
“About whom? Finn?”
“No! Hang Finn and may he never rest in peace! Brun of course!”
“What do you mean?” Lizzie’s voice took a higher note.
There was a pause on the other side of the line and Lizzie could practically see Vivian frowning at the exasperation in her voice.
“Nothing in particular… It’s just that…” she paused again as if choosing her words, “Brun really takes the tall dark and mysterious man to another level, no? He’s charming and congenial, yet at the same time I cannot shake the sensation that he is hiding something,” then she added quickly, “Not like Finn, just… a hidden layer, if you know what a mean.”
Lizzie did not reply, once more horrified at how perceptive her friend was. Surely Vivian would never guess that Brun was a five hundred-year-old Changeling who could wield magic, but she had not failed to notice that something was odd about him.
“It’s like he is a riddle wrapped in an enigma!” Vivian elaborated.
Before Lizzie could formulate a reply, she felt a warm presence behind her that made the hairs of the back of her neck stand to an end. A moment later, his scent took ownership of the kitchen and then Brun cupped her breasts with both hands, pulling her against his hard body.
It took her all her willpower not to moan on the phone.
“I have to go now, Viv,” she said between her teeth, holding a gasp when Brun lowered his lips on her neck while his hands mercilessly massaged her nipples, “I have a pan on the hob and I don’t want to burn the pancakes.”
Vivian exploded into laughter on the other side of the line, “He’s right behind you, isn’t he? Okay, don’t answer that! I’m not that nosy! But please, keep me posted, I was worried about you!”
“I will, I promise,” Lizzie replied, hoping that her voice had sounded normal, because Brun slid a hand under her T-shirt and was currently lowering the zipper of her jeans while nipping her earlobe, “I’m sorry…”
“Don’t worry about it.”
They exchanged their goodbyes and Lizzie tossed her phone on the counter before turning to glare at him.
“Brun!”
Her next words wore cut when his lips crashed against hers. She gasped in surprise and he took the chance to thrust his tongue inside her mouth.
Her hands moved to his neck as if they had a will of their own. His dark hair was humid from the shower and she realised that the only thing covering his glorious body was a towel loosely wrapped around his waist.
The second best thing after a kilt.
How very convenient!
“Brun,” she tried again, weakly this time and in response he pulled her T-shirt over her head and somehow her bra fell off her shoulders. Surely the infuriating man must have used magic to unhook it!
He lowered his lips to her breasts and every earlier and future protests in her head dissolved into nothingness.
While he masterfully suckled her nipples, he hooked his fingers on the waist of her jeans and pulled it down together with her underwear. In the next breath he grabbed her by the waist as if Lizzie were no bigger than a child and sat her on the counter.
“I’ve been fantasizing about doing this since the day you came to the kitchen in nothing but your sleeping garments,” he breathed against her mouth, a finger already sliding in and out of her.
“Brun,” Lizzie spoke his name a third time, but now it had a begging quality to it, because her whole body was on fire. She tore the towel from around his waist, throwing it across the kitchen and wrapped her legs around his hips, urging him closer.
“Your wish is my command, Your Ladyship.”
Then he drove himself inside her in one strong thrust, filling her completely.
I am still not sure whether Finn is stalking me or not.
The words echoed in Brun’s head causing a sick feeling at the pit of his stomach.
He pulled his trousers up and buttoned the waist.
He had not meant to eavesdrop on her conversation. After waking up to a cold bed and sensing that Lizzie was downstairs, he had taken the time to shower before going down to the kitchen wrapped only in his towel with obvious lewd intentions, but when he realised Lizzie was talking to her friend, he began to quietly walk away. Then she mentioned her former boyfriend – if anyone could call the bastard that – and he could not resist to hear what they had to say about him.
To his shame, he had even cast a little spell to be able to hear what Vivian was saying too.
It’s just a lot of coincidence we should bump into each other twice in the space of weeks when I haven’t got a whiff of him in six years!
Too much of a coincidence in his opinion. After five hundred years walking this world, Brun knew very well that such serendipity seldom occurred.
If ever.
However, this Finn Duncan could not possibly be the same man he knew. The other Finn – MacTaggart was his surname – had died two hundred years before in the monastery fire.
Brun had made sure of it.
Finn MacTaggart had been one of the orphaned Changelings, the ones who were not bonded to any Conjurer or Enchanter. With the ongoing war against the Dreams Thief, it was not an uncommon situation, therefore not many questions were asked. Furthermore, despite being an arrogant arse, Finn’s strength and skill had been on par only with Brun’s, thus Fayla took him in, happy to strengthen their dwindling numbers, and sent him to Glennloch.
Brun had been against it, and his unease only grew stronger when Finn became infatuated with Gweyir, following her like a lap dog wherever she went. Inter-caste relationships were frowned upon in this world as much as they had been in the Otherworld, thus Finn and Gweyir had never openly been lovers, but their affair had been common knowledge.
When Brun found Gweyir lying lifeless on a wool blanket, while her protector was slumped face down in the water, his misgivings began to shape into suspicion.
Her guardian had been murdered, which was nothing unusual in the current state of affairs, except for the fact that MacTaggart had conveniently been elsewhere when it happened.
A similar situation happened in the case of Aranna’s murder, only MacTaggart was found in the library unconscious,rather than dead, and when the Dreams Thief killed Triarell and Alasdair while Finn vanished, Brun had all the proof he needed of the bastard’s treason.
He spent the next fifty years hunting Finn, hoping he would lead him to the Dreams Thief, until he finally trapped him in an abandoned monastery. Convinced that MacTaggart would never betray his master, Brun had set the whole place ablaze.
He had waited, patiently watching the building burn for hours, till only ashes remained. Then he had searched for Finn’s charred bones in vain, but the fire had been so intense that he had simply assumed that even his bones had been destroyed.
Now he was wondering whether he had been deceived.
However, if Finn MacTaggart and Finn Duncan were one and the same, why would he approach Lizzie like he did? Why would he…
He swallowed a big lump, finding even thinking about it hard.
Why would Finn seduce her and then disappear?
Of course the simplest explanation was that Finn MacTaggart was very much dead and Finn Duncan was just a scoundrel whom Brun wished to beat to a pulp for what he did to Lizzie.
Still, abundans cautela non nocet, or as more modern people would say: Better safe than sorry.
If Finn Duncan and Finn MacTaggart were one and the same, finding him would be quite difficult. MacTaggart had been an expert at covering his tracks and if Brun started to look for him again, he would disappear completely and take any clue as to where the Dreams Thief was hiding with him.
He would need someone even more cunning than Finn for that job…
As he shoved one arm into his shirt, Brun recalled an old friend, who perhaps could help him solve that conundrum.
Heavens, but so much time has passed… Fifty? Maybe seventy years… Is he even still alive?
It would be worth trying, Brun decided, closing the lower buttons of his shirt and tucking then inside his trousers. If his friend were still alive, he certainly would be the best person for that particularly tricky task.
Yes, that was a solid plan. But he would only act after the Clishams returned, because he was not keen on leaving Lizzie alone.
Should he talk to her about his suspicions?
No, she already had too much on her plate to deal with as it was. It would be wiser to keep that issue to himself until he gathered more intelligence about it.
He finished buttoning his shirt and quickly climbed down the stairs.
“Have you lost your appetite?”
Lizzie blinked at Brun’s voice and realised that she had been sliding the same piece of pancake around her plate for a while.
“Forgive me for interrupting your call earlier,” he apologized, though he did not really sound sorry at all, “I hope it was nothing important…”
“Oh it was just Vivian,” she replied and found a little odd that he did not meet her gaze, “After what happened at the Fair, I was a little upset and she made me swear I would keep her posted, but so much happened since then that I completely forgot to call…”
He drained the rest of his tea and then reached the teapot for more.
“But did her call upset you? You seem a bit distant…”
Lizzie sighed, “No, not upset… I just…” she paused trying to find the right words to explain, “You know when you try to remember the name of a movie or of a book and you cannot? You can picture everything about it, the plot, the characters, the end, but the title escapes you!”
He grinned at her sympathetically, “Yes, it’s quite frustrating.”
“Yes, well, that’s what I’m feeling now: I have the sensation that everything is right in front of my eyes, that I have all pieces of the puzzle–”
She swallowed her words, dropping her fork and straightening up on the chair.
“Lizzie?” he reached for her hand. His big fingers easily covered hers. “Are you all right?”
It’s like he is a riddle wrapped in an enigma.
“A riddle wrapped in an enigma…” she muttered under her breath.
“Lizzie?” he repeated, sounding in full alert now. He was becoming more edgy around her at each passing day.
For a moment she was lost in the depth of his blue eyes.
“Brun, what if Aranna left a clue behind?”
“A clue?” he repeated, “What kind of clue?”
She stood up, nearly knocking her chair down, excitement coursing through her body.
“You said that Aranna was fond of riddles: what if she left hidden clues behind? Maybe something that could hint at what the trap for the Dreams Thief might be? Or at least something that could help us finding it?”
He stared at her as if she had revealed the Third Secret of Fatima.
“You are absolutely brilliant, Lady Lizzie!” he declared, standing up too and bringing her hand to his lips.
With renewed determination, she drained the rest of her tea.
“I think we should go back to Aranna’s workshop right now and search. We don’t have much time before the Clishams are back.”