Rowena Through the Wall: Expanded Edition (2 page)

There are worse things though. I may look sloppy in pan
ts and a tailored shirt, but I look pretty darn good in slinky evening wear and satin nightgowns.

That night, I slipped into one of my favorite nightgowns―a Natori―in a sapphire blue. It had spaghetti straps and came with a matching full-length dressing gown with lace edging. I had planned to wear it on my honeymoon. That didn't happen.

If I had to tell the story of my life, it would be through the dogs I have known, not the men. I've loved animals all my life. I became a vet so I could care for them. I fin
d, as most animal lovers do, that little creatures give back a lot more than they take. I can't say my experience with men has been the same.

My expression in the bedroom mirror was sad, but the nightgown was as beautiful as the day I first set eyes on it.

Piper, my West Highland white terrier pup, yipped and I looked down at his sweet furry face. "Come on, little one. Time for bed."

We settled into the four-poster bed…and into our dreams.

The sky was azure, the sun was orange and the air was as still as it had been the last time.

How could I be back in the same dream?

"Who are you? And what the Hades are you wearing?"

I turned, perplexed.

A dark-haired man in a tunic hovered over me. "Well, speak!"

I opened my mouth, then closed it, floundering for words. "It's a Natori. I got it for seventy-five percent off at Saks."

His anger turned to puzzlement. "What is this
Natori
and where do you hail from that maidens wear such flimsy items of finery? Where are your undergarments?" He crossed his brawny arms in disapproval. "You are obviously not from here. That much is certain."

I took a deep breath. "I 'hail'―as you so quaintly put it―from Scottsdale, and I don't wear undergarments to bed. Besides, I wasn't expecting to be here."

"Wasn't expecting to be where?"

"Oh
, for Pete's sake, in this dream."

This was getting absurd. I was starting to feel like Alice.

"So you're a Scot."

Good Grief. "No, I'm American. Scottsdale is in Arizona."

That seemed to stump him, so I took the opportunity to look him over. He was worthy of it. With the sun behind him, his hair looked black, but I could see now it was really a rich brown. Yup, he was wearing the same sort of tunic as Tunic-man and friend, with the leather bracelet thingies. This dream was becoming predictable.

He frowned. "Are you a witch?"

"No," I said slowly, as if talking to a dull-witted child. "I'm a vet."

His brows drew together. "What is your name, vet?"

I smiled with pride. "Dr. Revel. I qualified last year."

He didn't seem impressed. "You shouldn't be out here alone, clad in only a Natori. It's not safe. Who is your father?"

"Tom Revel. And although it's none of your business, my mother was Rowena Revel, nee Trefusus, if that makes a difference. What's this all about, anyway?"

His dark face turned white. "Rowena?"

"It's my first name too, actually. Rowena Revel. But everyone calls me Row."

He sat down. "Rowena Trefusus?"

I nodded. Oh boy. This didn't have a good feel. I wasn't liking this dream at all.

"What about you?" I asked.

"My name is Jon. Jon Trefusus."

I stared at him, my heart hammering. "And that would mean what exactly?"

Before he could answer, we heard hooves pounding over the ground, approaching with great speed. Jon grabbed me, threw me to the ground and covered my mouth with his enormous hand.

He needn't have bothered. I wasn't going to say a peep.

I could tell from the horses that this wasn't a group I wanted to meet. Images of fear and loathing invaded my mind. I sensed pain caused by the lashing of a whip. I tried to tune them out.

Jon held me down. Don't make a sound, his hard gaze commanded. I tried to reassure him with my mind, but my
gift
never works on people. Especially in dreams.

We were so close I could smell him. Fresh hay, leather and something rather musky. It shocked me to be that close to a man I didn't know. It shocked me even more to find my body reacting so primitively. I squirmed, but he moved his leg over my hips and pinned me down.

After a few minutes, the meadow returned to silence.

Jon pulled his hand away from my mouth, then put his index finger to his lips. He lifted his head and looked swiftly about. Then he smiled an 'all clear.' He was about to say something when I saw him glance down.

I followed his gaze. Oh, crap. My nightgown had twisted, and the top, which had been somewhat daring before, was serving absolutely no purpose now.

I saw the hunger in Jon's eyes and tried to roll away. His leg held me down and his hands pinned mine to the soft grass. I heard him groan as his mouth moved down to my throat.

I struggled as he pulled down the strap of my nightgown and bared my breast. When his mouth latched onto my nipple and sucked hard, I gasped.

Jon tugged at my skirt and I tried to push him away. It was like pushing against a rock face.

"Stop," I cried.

I awoke in a sweat, my heart racing. The light of dawn filtered through a crack in the blinds. It was hot in the bedroom and the thin strap of my nightgown had slipped off one shoulder in the night, baring one breast.

My nipple was damp.

Chapter 3

Next evening at the animal clinic, I asked Debbie, who had done her undergrad in psych, what she knew about dreams. She was a 'brainer' with short brown hair and an athletic body.

"Do you mean clinically?" she asked. "Dogs have dreams, I know. You see them shake and twitch sometimes in their sleep."

"Actually, I meant
people
dreams. Did you learn about them at all?"

"Yeah, sure. What do you want to know?"

"Have you ever had a dream that felt so real that you swear it actually happened?"

She looked at me, curious. "No, but I've had dreams that I wish would keep on going." She grinned. "Some dreams are better than reality, you know?"

I knew. But I wasn't getting closer to understanding.

"Actually, it's quite interesting, Row. There is a lot of reality in dreams. Your mind latches on to some
thread of unfinished emotional business from the day. Then in REM sleep―you know, the rapid eye movement sleep when most dreaming occurs―it calls up bits of older memories that are somehow related and melds them together. That's why dreams look so peculiar. You have old memories and new memories woven into each other."

Okay, this was beginning to sound scary. Old memories?

"They are emotional connections," Debbie said, "rather than logical ones. The latest research shows that usually people work through the most negative emotions first. Their dreams become more positive as the night goes on. But nightmares interrupt that process. People often wake up before the frightening emotion is resolved, so the dream keeps repeating."

I gulped. My fantasy dream world of intense color had some place in my past?

"Speaking of reality," she said, "Steve called."

My heart skipped.

"Are you ever going to see him again, Row? I think he really wants a chance to explain."

How can you explain cruelty? Steve was my ex. Or would have been, if I'd actually married him. Two months before the wedding, I saw him kick a stray cat across the pavement at the Biltmore Shopping Plaza, and that was it. I left the ring on the restaurant patio table. It was a full carat and it killed me to leave that ring.

I shook my head firmly. "No, that's over for good. He's a jerk."

"Too bad." Debbie sighed. "He sure was gorgeous. Are all investment bankers rich and handsome?"

Handsome maybe, but in light of the men dominating my mind lately, Steve was scraw
ny. He was probably still sane, though, and I wasn't so sure about myself. Had I been daydreaming? Were the heat and the disappointment getting to me? Did I imagine those guys walking through the wall of my classroom? Or―

I shook my head. Of course I imagi
ned it. I was just feeling deprived. No more Steve in my life. No new man on the horizon. No sex in forever.

Besides, gorgeous men don't walk through walls.

Debbie was looking at me funny. "What did you say?"

"Nothing."

"You said something like 'gorgeous men don't walk through walls.'"

I said that out loud?

"Wouldn't it be grand if they did though?" Debbie mused.

As soon as I fell asleep that night, my eyes opened to the azure sky and to a man with his hungry mouth on my breast.

"Please," I whimpered. "Please don't."

Jon raised his head. I held him in my gaze for a long time until he moved off me and sat down at my side, a dazed expression on his face.

"Forgive me," he said hoarsely. "God forgive me. I can't imagine what came over me."

I made a small sound of relief and tried to straighten the bodice of my Natori. Once adjusted, I glanced anxiously at Jon. He sat with his knees drawn up, his head resting against them.

"Rowena Trefusus, can you ever forgive me?"

I sighed. "Actually, it's Rowena Revel."

"Not here. We take the mater's name, if it be the greater. Though Rowena Revel is pretty. And maybe safer." He lifted his head, gazed at me and started to shake.

I said nothing and he looked away.

"I am bewitched," he said in a bitter tone.

I waited, not moving.

He leapt to his feet and held out his hand. I took it and he pulled me up. "Are you sure you are not a witch?"

"Not even a bit," I replied. "I'm a vet."

"And what is this
vet
?

"The full word is
veterinarian.
It comes from the Latin. I help animals that get hurt. I also teach younger students how to help animals."

"Ah, a healer," he said, nodding in comprehension. "You use spells?"

"No. I use medicine."

"Potions?" That seemed to upset him.

"No, no! More like…" I searched for the word. "Elixirs."

Time to change the subject.

"But tell me, sir, what you were going to tell me before. Who am I to you and to this place?" Good grief. Where did that stilted language come from?

Jon had moved down to the stream and was cupping water into his hands. "Your grandfather a
nd mine were cousins. That makes us distant kin. Your mother disappeared many years ago―when I was a babe―never to be seen again."

"Ah," I said softly. So that's the connection. I was missing my mother again and it was showing up in this subliminal way in
a very weird dream.

"Her father―your grandfather―is the Earl of Huel. He lives still."

I'd never known any of my grandparents. "And my grandmother?"

"All the women of Huel are dead."

That can't be good. "What happened?"

Jon left the riverbank and returned
to my side. "A witch put a curse on the land, that all babies of my generation would be male. It didn't seem so bad at the time because all the families wanted male heirs. They didn't think it through to the next generation."

No female children. Therefore, no fertile women.

"Holy crap," I said. "That's slow suicide."

"Yes." His expression was bitter. "And so we die out."

I didn't know what to say. We sat in silence as I tried to imagine a world with no children and few women.

"You can't get the witch to take back the curse?"

"No, she's dead. We burnt her."

Well that's pretty final, I thought. Of all the stupid things to do.

"Wait a minute," I said. "Surely you could intermarry with females from other lands."

"There aren't many on this island. In war, the weak are vanquished. And women are weak. We've been at war for decades and there's been retribution. Hardly any have survived, and none with royal blood."

He paused and I could feel his sadness.

"The last great battle was four years ago. Now, there is nothing left to fight for. If you don't have women and children, nothing else matters. Who cares about grabbing more land?"

This was definitely a horror story for the men of Huel, I realized. Good thing it was only a dream.

"Jon, what about me?" My stomach turned over in knots. "Tell me. Did my mother leave Huel before the curse?"

He looked away.

"Is that why Tunic-man and his blond brother were scoping me out?"

"I don't understand you. What is this
scoping out
?"