A Kiss at Midnight

Chapter Twenty-Two

The door swung open in welcome as Ilona stepped in. She made it a short distance across the hallway then faltered as the grand staircase loomed before her. The burgundy carpet guiding her path but what lay at her destination? A wolf's snarl or lips pressed into a such a thin line that they may disappear entirely?
Her mind unable to forget Carrick's outstretched hand, the quiet plea forming her name on his lips. The air to wrap around his fingers as the bath's slippery edges allowed her to evade his grasp.

Ilona looked down at one hand, her mouth pressed into a thin line. Cradled in her palm was a pink rose, wrinkles where the petals were once neatly folded. A gift from Barrymore.

A vase of porcelain white dashed with speckles of gold sat on one end table close to the staircase. It contained sunflowers and red roses. Having spotted it, Ilona glanced around to ensure the hallway was empty and then hurried over to it. Annalise and Danika may love blush pink and orange roses respectfully but Ilona did not as she hid the flower amongst its rosy red brethren. If she had to choose a flower, it would be daisies. They were plentiful during the summer months and as a child, Ilona loved to weave their stems into a crown.

A faint smile tugged at her lips as her mind conjured the memory of her six year old self sitting upon Annalise's lap.
Eyes wide in wonder and awe as she watched her mother stringing the stems together. A tartan blanket of navy and pine green beneath them as they sat on the grounds of their home in Kildare.

"But Mama, you wore pearls not flowers when you were little," Ilona remarked.

She glanced up at her mother. Annalise's head was down, her expression one of concentration. A breeze disturbing her loose curls from their resting place on one ledge of her shoulders. From beneath her lashes, Anna looked at her daughter. She let out a chuckle.

"Yes, little wolf. I did," Anna replied, pulling the final string tight.
She held up the crown to Ilona, hearing her daughter's loud exclaim. "However, this crown suits you so much better," she continued, placing the crown upon her daughter's head then she pressed a kiss to Ilona's cheek.

Delight lighting up her daughter's expression as she patted the crown. Annalise turned her head to look at something over Ilona's shoulder. Her daughter spun and saw Zane approaching, splotches of mud on his breeches and boots.

"Papa!" Ilona broke into a run.
Zane caught her in his arms, spinning around.

"Oh Papa, I missed you." Her little arms lacing around his neck.

"I missed you too, little one."

She went to rest her head on the crook of his shoulder only to pull back rather quickly, her nose wrinkling. "You smell like a fish, I don't like it."

"I was hunting a river monster, Ilona and they tend to be fish-like," Zane explained then he noticed the flower crown. "Oh excuse me, it was a fish I was on the hunt for, your Highness."

He placed Ilona back on the ground in order to accompany his words with an exaggerated bow. The corners of his mouth tugging upwards.

His daughter giggled. "Do you want a crown, Papa? I found lots of daises."

"I would love one," Zane said. "And tell me, Ilona would this crown be befitting of a prince or a consort?"

A short pause as Ilona considered his question. One finger tapping against her cheek. A chipper note in her voice as she answered, "A prince."

Zane gave her a nod, walking a few paces forwards. "And I believe I have found my princess."

His pace quickened to close all distance. The skirts of Annalise's azure blue dress, a billowing cape behind her as Zane hoisted his wife into his arms. She let out a surprised squeak at his swift motion. Her hands to become moulded to the outline of his shoulders. His hand to lay flat upon her cheek as he captured her lips between his.

Ilona briefly looked at her parents before shuffling off to get the flowers.
Running footsteps.
She turned.
Annalise's grip on her skirts to loosen as she scooped up her daughter, twirling around to Ilona's surprised yet delighted squeal. She glimpsed her father now sitting on the blanket, his head tilted to greet the warm embrace of sunlight.

The memory vanished and Ilona let out a sigh. She had to see Carrick, evading him was not an option. Perhaps she should make a crown of peonies as his apology gift as she recalled the flower he gave her at the Westmore Estate. Suddenly an icy kiss was placed upon her neck, scattering goosebumps across her skin. A voice, one she did not recognise in the slightest reached her ears.

Harmonious and softly spoken words beckoning her forwards. "Child of Muriel, the blood of the lands flows through your veins."

Ilona's eyes becoming glazed over, her pace quickening.

"Let me show you the world that was stolen away from you."

She began to climb the stairs. A pause occurred mid-step as up on the third floor, a door closed. The lock scrambling across to secure it. The voice fell silence, leaving Ilona feeling woozy. Her fingers grasping at the bannister to steady herself. Her expression one of utter confusion.

What on earth? The voice, who was that speaking to me?

The swishing of skirts caused Ilona to look up. Fauna in a gown of champagne silk stood on the top step. The fiery glow of rubies at her throat. One hand gripped the bannister as she began to descend the stairs. Lips pursed as her gaze landed Ilona.

"Lord Barrymore has quite the invested interest in you, Ilona," her friend said, a note of disapproval.

Thrown by her friend's statement and the lingering wooziness, words failed to form on Ilona's lips. The swishing of skirts came to a halt next to her and Fauna placed a hand on her friend's forearm. Her expression softened.

"Ilona, I beg of you do not pursue Lord Barrymore. I have seen the way Carrick looks at you. He loves you and a marriage like that is worth treasuring. I should know."

Fauna gave her arm a gentle squeeze then completed her descent. Ilona opened her mouth to respond but found no words waiting.

At the top of the stairs, Ilona rubbed at her forehead. Her mind still lingering on the mysterious voice and what the hell did it mean by a world stolen away from her? As far as she knew all of her items were in her possession and in general, she kept a tight grip on the few coins she carried while out in Peyton.
A sudden chill rolled down her spine.
Could the speaker be referring to her mother...
A slight shake of her head.

No, Annalise was safe. The men responsible for her mother's agony were long dead and besides, if her father got even a whiff of trouble heading their way, he would whisk his wife and Ilona away to Kildare.

"Step outside of the iron wrought gates of towns and villages of Ireland and you may see behind the blades of grass, the Bull of Cooley or the snarling facade of a wolfwalker," Ilona muttered softly to herself.

Then a second shake of her head. The mysterious speaker could wait, her main concerns were Carrick and the Morana Lily. Reaching the door to her room, she knocked. Seconds passed and then she was greeted by Carrick. A wariness in his gaze fading as his gaze fell upon her. Where his eyes went, his arms quickly followed to encircle her waist. Ilona's hands finding themselves pressed up against his chest. Carrick lowered his head.
His words, a whisper written upon her lips. "Someone may see."

"Yet I find myself not caring if they do, Mr Ellis," Ilona murmured. A smile tugged at Carrick's mouth then he pressed a kiss to her lips.