Heart of Stone Ch. 06

"No child. I do not like this, but I will make no further complaint." He rested his chin against the top of her head and tightened his arms around her. "What time will you return?"

*~*~*~*~*~*

Robert Barnaby's office was in the Financial District at St Martins Le Grand. When he had given her the location on the phone it had meant nothing to her. Stepping into the marble clad entrance made her feel as though she was out of her element and she was suddenly glad she wore the navy blue skirt suit that had seemed a little too much when she dressed. Once she found her way the the suite occupied by Barnaby & Associates she was stopped by an imposing, silver-haired private secretary. Her gray dress seemed to match the multiple shades of silver and gray the offices were done in.

"I'm sorry, Miss Beeson, but you don't have an appointment." The older woman pursed her lips and looked at Mary over the steel rims of her glasses. "Mr. Barnaby will not be available until nine-thirty on the-" she flipped several pages in the appointment calendar. "twelfth of June, that's in three weeks. Shall I pencil you in?"

"I just talked to him yesterday, he invited me for lunch-"

"You don't understand, Miss. No one sees Mr. Barnaby without an appointment and he never schedules lunch with clients, so if you'd like to take that nine-thirty I'll arrange that for you." The woman was looking at Mary as if she was a simpleton and Mary felt her heart starting to pound.

"I'm not a client, there's a personal matter I need to discuss with him and he asked me to come." She was trying to keep the desperate tone out of her voice.

"There's really nothing I can do about that. The lifts are just down the corridor on your right."

"At least tell him I'm here." The note of desperation wasn't concealed this time, nor was her growing anger.

"Mr. Barnaby is a very busy man and if I interrupted him with every little detail that came up throughout the day he would never be able to accomplish anything. I don't want to call security, but I will if I need to." She smiled a cold smile and laid a hand on the telephone. Mary was at a loss for words. She decided to go down to the lobby and call from her cell when the inner office door opened by a man in a charcoal colored suit, he looked to be in his fifties.

"Angela, when Miss Beeson gets here would you please-" He looked at her curiously. "Are you Mary Beeson?"

"Yes. Mr. Barnaby?" He smiled a warm smile.

"Robbie, to my friends. Do come in, it's a pleasure to meet you face to face." Mary couldn't resist a little smile as she walked past the red-faced Angela and into the comfortable, but still gray inner office. She head him speak a few more words to Angela before coming in again. "Please, sit down." He smiled and indicated the black leather sofa, he took the end opposite the one she chose.

"Call me Mary. I appreciate you seeing me on such short notice like this, Angela tells me that you're a very busy man." Mary couldn't resist a little smile.

"She is a bit of a bulldog I'm afraid, though in her defense I did forget to tell her I was expecting you. I hope Chinese take-away is alright, I didn't think to ask when we were speaking."

"It's fine, I hope you know I didn't mean to upset you when I called."

"Think nothing of it." Angela knocked softly and brought food in. She took plates and utensils from a cabinet and set up the meal on a steel and glass table in the corner. She retreated silently and he poured wine for both of them. "As you can see, I tend to spend a great deal of time here. Normally I take lunch out, but I would rather not be interrupted, or overheard." They sat across from each other.

"I don't think I ever asked what you do." Mary took a bite of the shrimp with snow peas and found it delicately seasoned and delicious.

"I shuffle money around and hopefully there is more at the end than there was at the beginning. Damn boring most of the time, but I suppose it keeps me from having too much fun in life." He chuckled softly and Mary did too. "But what about you, I had the impression you were returning to America, when did you decide to stay?"

"I don't really have it narrowed down to an exact date. I guess I realized that didn't really have any family or close friends there, and I do have people here that I would miss terribly if I left." It was the simple truth with a strategic omission. Their conversation flowed to lighter topics and she decided to let him approach the reason for this meeting in his own way.

"Frankly, I was surprised you kept the Hall."

"Why?" Mary sipped her wine and found herself at ease with Robert Barnaby, and that was a rare thing. Strangers had always made her nervous and even though she had gotten better at relating to people she wasn't usually so calm at a first meeting.

"I was there once when I was fifteen or sixteen with my father. He went to visit Ambrose, but whatever they discussed I was excluded from the conversation so I wandered around a bit. No matter where I went in the old place I felt as if I was being watched by something. Not something bad, just something I couldn't describe. Probably the overactive imagination of youth, but it made a strong impression on me at the time. The other reason is, well, it's rather rude I'm afraid. The house and land are worth a small fortune. When I realized you were young and an American I thought you might look at the profit to be made and sell the old place."

"To be honest I had no idea what to do with it at first, or if I should do anything with it. I thought about opening it as one of those 'historic home' tour houses, but what I've been able to find about the house's history isn't all that interesting." She laughed with him and was surprised to find that her glass was nearly empty. "Honestly, I don't think selling it ever occurred to me though."

"Have some more." He moved to pour more wine for her, but she put her hand over her glass.

"It's very good, but I'm driving home this evening. Anyway, I'm used the Hall now. It was big and overwhelming at first, but now it's just home." Mary used her knife to push the last of her fried rice onto her fork. "So your father knew Ambrose?"

"Yes. My father told me it was a business relationship, but that didn't really have the ring of truth. Are you sure you won't have some more?" He offered the bottle again, but Mary shook her head. He refilled his own glass. "Something else instead? I'm sure I have some bottled water."

"That would be wonderful, thank you." Mary took the bottle of water and moved back to the place he indicated on the sofa. He picked up the phone on his desk before joining her.

"Angela, we're finished with lunch." She came in and silently cleared the plates and cutlery.

"You have an appointment in fifteen minutes, Mr. Barnaby." Angela was looking at Mary when she said it.

"Give whoever it is coffee and tell them I've been delayed, I don't want to be disturbed until after Mary and I are finished."

"But it's Mr. Clement-"

"Fine, offer him a glass of scotch and tell him I've been delayed." Angela looked as if she wanted to protest but instead she withdrew silently. He looked at Mary again. "Now, where were we?"

"I wondered why you thought your father didn't actually have business with Ambrose." Mary sipped the water.

"I should tell you a bit about my father first, and about Ambrose. When my father came into his inheritance there was precious little family money left. That's not so unusual really, a wastrel or two in the family tree and what took generations to build is frittered away. Anyway, my father wasn't happy starving with dignity. He took all the cash he could put his hands on and invested in foreign currency. Of course everyone thought he was insane, but the gamble paid off royally and, after Father had not only rebuilt the family fortune but added to it even the scoffers were lining up for his advice. That was when he started the firm. Ambrose was one of his first clients. Ambrose's style was a great deal more conservative than my father's so after a couple of big wins they parted ways amicably. I always got the impression that there was a longer standing relationship there. By the time we visited him, I knew there was no financial business between them. It was unlike my father to lie to me or anyone else though." He took a long swallow of the wine. Mary sensed that there was more to come, so she remained silent and waited.

"Before he destroyed the statue, he began trying to tell me about some connection our family had to a dozen or so other families who were spread out all over the country, yours included. Of course in the state he was in it sounded like raving, but it was different in a way too."

"In what way different?" She asked quietly. He sighed and looked at the wine in his glass.

"I don't know how to explain that. There was an intensity about him, as if there was something that he absolutely had to tell me, but he couldn't put the words together properly."

"It's not my intention to pry into your family's affairs, but had your father's mental health been declining?"

"No, that's one of the things that was so strange about the situation. He was getting on of course, but mentally he was as sharp as ever." He drained the glass in a single, long swallow. "It started the night that Dar-"

"Please," Mary interrupted. "this may sound very silly but I'd appreciate it if you didn't say his name."

"Not at all, now I'm certain we're speaking of the same person. Father retired several years ago and he spent the majority of his time at the family estate, I would go home at the week end. One Friday evening I arrived and found Father in the drawing room with our unnamed stranger. That wasn't unusual, Father was always very sociable and would entertain just about anyone, from a tramp to a lord. Naturally I went in to join them, but Father became enraged. He actually accused me of spying on him. The man stayed for hours and I ate dinner alone that evening. After the man left, Father refused to speak to me for the rest of the night." He looked down at his empty glass. Mary was silent, giving him his moment.

"And the next day?" She asked softly.

"He had calmed a bit, and he told me that his guest was 'enlightening' him. His eyes were wild, it was like nothing I have ever seen before and I hope I never see anything like it again. His guest returned that evening and this time I managed to sneak a glimpse of the two of them together when the maid brought them a light dinner. Father looked, hypnotized, for lack of a better word. The man just sat there, speaking to him in this soft, droning voice. After he was even more paranoid than the night before, saying that I wanted to keep him from getting to the treasure. That was the first I had heard of any treasure." Mary thought of the pressure she felt against her mind and sipped the water, because movement seemed to be what she needed to dispel the memory.

"Could you hear what was being said when you looked in?" She almost hated to ask the question.

"No. In a way I'm almost glad I couldn't. I might have become somehow enraptured myself. He visited on Sunday evening as well according to the servants. I returned home that Monday night, I couldn't concentrate anyway and I was considering bringing a doctor in. That was the night he tried to tell me about these connections. His guest returned once more and only stayed for a moment. I'm of the opinion that he brought my father the explosives he used, but I can't prove that."

"What do the police think?" Mary spoke softly, even though her mind was racing. She found herself very tempted to tell him that he was right and that his father had been right. There WAS a connection between those families. She still wasn't certain that she could trust him with the entire truth.

"I didn't involve them. We're rather remote and he had sent all the servants away. When no one inquired about the sound I thought it best to simply clean up the mess and go on. Father was in no condition to tolerate an official inquiry."

"Is he doing better now?" Mary was honestly concerned.

"One might say that. After it was done, he became completely incoherent and paranoid. A few days after that he stopped recognizing any of us and he became combative with everyone. My brother and I had to physically restrain him so he wouldn't harm himself while we waited for the doctor to arrive. He slipped into a coma before he could be sedated, and passed away a few days later." He sighed deeply and turned to her for the first time since they started talking about the strange visitor.

"I'm so sorry." She said.

"Father wouldn't have wanted to live in that state." He tried to manage a smile. "Perhaps now you think I've gone round the bend myself, talking about all of these suspicions and strange theories."

"No, I don't. The few minutes I spent with that man was enough to give rise to all kinds of suspicions of my own, that's why I called you. I appreciate you sharing all of this with a complete stranger." Mary finished the last of the water in her bottle. "I shouldn't take any more of your time today. Thank you for trusting me enough to tell me all this."

"You're very welcome, Mary. It's a pleasure getting to know you." He walked with her to the door.

"It's a pleasure getting to know you too. Maybe you'd like to visit the Hall again sometime."

"I would like that very much. Call me next week and we'll arrange something. You have my private number?" He took her hand and she sensed a strong vibration that traveled from his hand to hers and registered in the place in her mind that her magic resided. Mary's eyes widened.

"Yes." She said after a moment. "And thank you for a delicious lunch."

"You're most welcome. I look forward to your call."

Mary sat in her car for a moment, trying to collect her thoughts. The impression she got at the end of the meeting was definite. Robbie Barnaby was highly skilled in magic and in that unguarded moment he probably sensed her skill as well. She started the car and decided a little shopping was what she needed to restore a sense of normalcy.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Mary returned home just before sundown. She left her shopping bags on the bed, kicked off her heels and went out onto the balcony. She sat sideways on the wide railing and looked out over the trees. The whole drive home had been consumed with thoughts of how to approach Aiden. Fighting with him would just upset them both and wouldn't solve anything, neither would ignoring the matter. As she waited for him to wake though, she grew even more nervous than she had been the night before.

"How long have you been back?" He asked softly.

"Not long. I did a little shopping after I left Robbie's office." She turned to face him.

"Robbie, is it." His eyes narrowed.

"Yes, and he refers to me as Mary." She responded quietly, in a matter-of-fact tone.

"All very friendly." He said, looking away from her. "I am certain that you had a very pleasant day indeed."

"Moderately pleasant. Lunch was delicious, he's very charming, and urbane. We had a nice discussion, and I learned a great deal more about my visitor." Mary walked over to him, and stood between his legs. "And he's not you." Aiden turned his head quickly and looked at her curiously.

"I love you Aiden. I don't know to say it more clearly, or how to make you believe it. This constant battle to prove my loyalty to you is a fight I don't think I can ever win and that scares me." One arm wrapped around her waist and he lifted her into his lap, and Mary snuggled against his chest.

"Scares you in what way, child?" He asked softly. Mary sighed, still unsure how to start.

"There are times I don't want to tell you things because I'm afraid of how you'll react, and sneaking around doesn't feel right either. I don't like walking on eggshells. I don't like feeling like I'm always hurting you." Mary was blinking back tears, his arms tightened around her.

"That was never my intent." His cheek rested against her head and he took a deep breath. "I fear losing you to one of your own kind."

"Why?" She looked up at him.

"To males of my kind, human females have always been beautiful and desirable. Matings were strictly forbidden by both cultures, but that did not end the fascination. That feeling only flowed in one direction however. We are not attractive by human standards and never have been. Even when we had close ties to your kind, we were considered ugly. I fear that the more time you spend with males of your own kind, the more likely you are to feel we mated in error." His arms tightened around her.

"I can't hide in a tower for the rest of my life, and even if I tried I would end up resenting you." Mary curled up against him. "Besides, your looks don't have anything to do with why I love you."

"And how am I to take that?" He laughed softly, Mary did too.

"Okay that sounded really bad." She snuggled against his chest. "I don't think of you as ugly. At first I was scared, but I'd never imagined a statue come to life. As I got to know you though, I stopped seeing the wings and the horns or all the things that make you different from me. You're just the man I love because you're patient with me, and you make me laugh, and you made me feel safe. Not just physically safe, but I know I can share with you. I can't imagine turning to someone else for all the things that I turn to you for."

He was silent for a long moment, one hand cradled the back of her head, the other arm held her close. Finally he drew a long sigh.

"No one has ever referred to me as a man before." His voice was soft.

"What else would I call you?" She kissed his shoulder softly.

"I have hurt you, child. Not by design or intent, but I have harmed you." He whispered next to her ear.

"Yes, but I forgive you, and I know we can make it better." Mary was starting to shiver. The evening had been cool, but now the wind was downright cold.

"Yes we will, but we will do it inside." He picked her up and Mary relaxed in his arms.