Indigo- The Complete Series, page 64
part #1 of Indigo Series
“I love you,” he said in a gravelly voice as he glanced down at the pendant nestled between her breasts, then looked back up into her eyes.
She groaned as her orgasm ripped through her. Lucy clenched around him, digging her heels harder against his ass as her muscles gripped his cock in a tight embrace.
Justin shouted her name as he thrust hard once more and then stilled. She felt the pulsing jets of his cum fill her.
He slid in and out again as he worked out the last of his orgasm, covering her face in kisses. “I adore that bra you were wearing,” he murmured as he kissed the tops of her breasts.
“Well, you better pace yourself, Mr. Hamilton. There’s plenty more to enjoy.”
“You’re going to spoil me.” Justin nipped her earlobe.
“It’s you that’s spoiling me.”
“No,” he said, gazing at her. “Having you in my life is a blessing I’ll never feel worthy of.”
***
Lucy woke before sunrise. They had stayed up late eating a decadently rich meal, drinking champagne, talking, laughing, and making love. She had never been happier than she was in that moment. Sunlight gradually illuminated every corner of the room. As she curled into Justin’s side, she placed her arm across his chest and felt the steady beat of his heart. He stirred and gathered her into his arms. Even in his sleep, Justin wanted to keep her close to him. Lucy wished she could hold on to this perfect moment. She closed her eyes again and drifted off into sleep.
When they woke up, they made love again, showered together, and dressed for the day. Lucy opted for comfort, wearing a blue floral print sundress, and sandals.
They had coffee and leftover brownies for breakfast. Lucy noticed Justin watching her intently, as if trying to assess her mood. It was going to be a stressful day for both of them.
“What?” she asked through a mouthful of brownie.
“Nothing,” he answered with a slow smile, reaching over to wipe a crumb from the corner of her mouth before licking it off his finger.
Lucy placed her hand on his beard. “Me, too.” He was also anxious about what they would learn from Sophia today, and whether it would change things for them.
CHAPTER 19
The Varangian Cross
“Welcome back,” Sophia greeted them as she opened the door. “Please come in.” The last time they were here it was at night. Now Lucy could appreciate the expansive view of the sea that Sophia had from her small home.
“Can I make you some coffee or tea?” Sophia asked.
“No, thank you,” Justin replied.
“Um, no thanks. I’m good.” Everyone was being polite, and Lucy just wanted to get on with it.
“Ah, yes.” Sophia sighed knowingly. “Well, why don’t we have a seat at the table.”
“My granddaughter told me you two have had to contend with a few challenges. Is that right?”
“Yes, that about sums things up for us,” Lucy said as they exchanged smiles.
Sophia took her seat, her brows drawn together in concern, and said, “Are you sure this is something you want to do now? Perhaps this could wait a bit longer until—”
“No more waiting,” Justin said, interrupting Sophia. “You’re right. Lucy and I have overcome some challenges. But,” he said before turning to look at Lucy, who nodded her consent, “we’re prepared to learn our story.”
“With the cross, no less,” Sophia exclaimed.
Lucy opened the black briefcase and pulled out the plastic-wrapped cross from its protective egg-crate foam. She placed it on the cloth-covered table and peeled off the layers of plastic, carefully unfolding the white cloth that swaddled it. “Here it is,” Lucy said. She looked at the cross in wonder, recalling when it had arrived at the Preston Museum. Little did she know the journey she would take to get to this moment.
“It is beautiful,” Sophia said, peering at it closely. “May I hold it?”
“Yes,” Lucy replied.
Sophia picked up the cross, holding it gently, and then turning it over in her hands to examine the inscription. “Do you know what the inscription says?”
“I don’t read Greek, but I know the translation. It says, ‘May my cross provide courage and protection for Stefanos Varangopoulos Sebastos.’ It was made for a man named Stefanos, a soldier in the Varangian Guard.”
Sophia held the cross in her hand, closed her eyes, and then placed the same hand over her heart. For several minutes, Sophia’s face was relaxed; a gentle smile curled the corners of her mouth in amusement. Suddenly, her brow furrowed and her eyes squeezed shut, a few tears rolling down her cheeks.
Justin glanced at Lucy in alarm as Sophia’s face contorted into a grimace, as if she was witnessing something terrifying.
“Are you all right?” Lucy asked Sophia. “Maybe this wasn’t a good idea after all,” she whispered to Justin.
“Sophia?” Justin leaned over the table and reached for Sophia’s hand.
Sophia’s eyes blinked open, taking in her surroundings. Her gaze shifted to Justin and Lucy with a somber expression. After patting Justin’s hand, she placed the cross down on the table again and closed her eyes for a few moments as if she was trying to find the right words.
She took a deep breath before opening her eyes again and saying, “I understand your story now. It’s up to you to decide if you want to know, or not. You’ve found each other, and you’re in love. And that is a wonderful thing.” She smiled as she squeezed both their hands. “This cross is the story of your distant past. It explains what happened, and why you needed to find each other, but it has no bearing on your future. Is that clear?”
They both nodded in agreement.
“If you pursue a future together, you take your chances just as all couples must do. Your past,” Sophia said gently, “is one of great happiness and deep sorrow. So, in order for me to continue, I have to believe it’s a story you want to know.”
Justin raised his brows, waiting for Lucy’s answer.
“Yes,” Lucy said in a clear voice. “I want to know. I need to understand what lies beneath my nightmares.”
“And you, Justin?” Sophia asked.
“I keep coming up against feelings about Lucy that overwhelm me at times.” He swallowed and continued. “I want to understand those feelings better.”
“Very well. I’d like each of you to place one or two fingers on the cross.
Justin placed two fingers on the bottom of the cross.
Lucy gazed at the cross. Finally, they would know the full story and be able to put the past behind them forever. She took a deep breath, and put two fingers in the center of the cross. She caught Justin’s eye and relaxed when he held her free hand and gave her a reassuring smile.
Sophia placed her index finger on the top of the cross and closed her eyes. “In the year 1204, Constantinople was a cosmopolitan city of great culture and wealth. It was also a time of terrible violence. This is your story….”
“I will come with you, my lady,” Anna mumbled, followed by a huge sneeze.
“Don’t be silly.” Francesca placed her palm against Anna’s forehead and frowned. “You have a bad cold and should go back to bed. I’m only going to Mass and will return right away.”
“But there is so much to do today.”
“Which is why I’m going to the early Mass.” Francesca handed her a cloth to blow her nose. Anna was old enough to be her grandmother and had been taking care of her since Francesca’s birth.
“Your father gave me strict instructions to—” Anna protested before sneezing again and wiping her nose.
“Don’t worry,” Francesca said with a tight smile. “Let me manage my father.”
Francesca’s wedding would take place tomorrow, on her eighteenth birthday. Her father, Gregorios Bryennios, was one of the emperor’s most prominent admirals. He had wanted her to marry when she turned sixteen, but Francesca had used every means necessary to put off the inevitable. Since her mother’s death when she was a young child, her father had relied upon her to manage his substantial household. Francesca had to learn quickly, and now her father depended on her for all his entertaining and management of his household staff. She was a dutiful daughter, and in return her father had indulged her desire for learning, including a tutor who taught her several languages. With her tutor’s guidance she had acquired an impressive collection of bibles, psalters, and chronicles of ancient history. She had been quite content to manage the busy household during the day and stay up late with her studies until Anna scolded her to put the books away.
But no more. Tomorrow she would marry and begin a new life in her new husband’s home. Today she would attend Mass, see her confessor, and spend the remainder of the day in prayer in her private chambers. There would be feasting tonight, but she would not be expected to attend. Tonight, she would slip away and be with the man she loved, Stefanos.
“Zeno won’t like you traipsing about the palace,” Anna groused, rubbing her nose.
“He is not my husband yet,” Francesca snapped, searching the bedchamber for her silk purse.
A small vase of red roses on a nearby table captured her attention. “How did these get in here?” Francesca scrunched up her nose as she picked up the vase and tossed the flowers out the window before letting out a large sneeze. Zeno never remembered that roses made her sneeze until she couldn’t breathe, and he regularly had them delivered to her bedchamber.
She was betrothed to Zeno Gabras, a navy captain her father was considering naming as his successor. Zeno was a rising officer in the navy, but he had a reputation for being cruel to his men; they feared him, but they didn’t respect him. Francesca was terrified of Zeno, and how he stared at her with dark eyes that followed her every movement when he was near. She had pleaded with her father to choose another man, but he was resolute and ignored her tears.
She rummaged through a wooden chest that was packed with piles of gowns and ready to be shipped to Zeno’s home. “Ah, here it is,” Francesca said, finding the purse and opening it to make sure the coins were still inside. She sighed when she saw her favorite books, piled neatly inside a chest against the wall. Her beloved books would not be shipped to Zeno’s home. He abhorred the idea that she was educated, often mocking her interest in reading. Perhaps in time he would change his mind.
“Don’t be long, my lady,” Anna said, sneezing again.
“Go back to sleep.” Francesca guided her maid back to her small adjoining bedchamber and tucked her into bed with a smile. “I’ll be back soon.”
Francesca walked as fast as she could through the palace, her gown rustling behind her. Her soft leather shoes were quiet on the stone floor, so hopefully she would leave undetected. It was not quite dawn, but the servants were already up, as evidenced by the clamor in the kitchens even at this early hour. She had an important errand this morning, but it was a secret, so she couldn’t risk being seen by anyone, especially since she was unescorted. Today was the only day she would have a moment to slip away undetected for an hour.
She pulled a plain black cloak over her head. She had to be careful what she wore, because she didn’t want to attract any attention. Watchful eyes were everywhere, and there were many who would curry favor with the emperor to expose her father for anything unseemly. And what Francesca was about to do was scandalous.
Francesca reached a rarely used door that exited out onto a small alley. She pushed it open as slowly as she could, grimacing when it made a loud squeak, and glanced around. The monks were already singing their early morning prayers in a nearby church, so she would have to hurry. It was cold on this April morning. The weather had been harsh for weeks, but now the sky was clear, with bright stars, and it looked like it would be a fine day. With her head down, she scurried down streets, avoiding any second glances from curious strangers.
Despite the early hour, trade never slowed down in this bustling port city. She passed by two traders and overheard them sharing the latest news about the Crusaders’ army that was gathered outside the city gates. The Crusaders had been there for over a year, and despite a few skirmishes, the city held. The Crusaders were on their way to the Holy Land and were waiting until money arrived to fund their quest. Because Constantinople was currently experiencing government instability, the city was vulnerable, and people were on edge.
Francesca’s father explained to her if any fighting did break out, it would be quickly contained. And even if the worst happened, she was safe, because the Venetians controlled the crusade. Her deceased mother had been a member of the Venetian nobility, and Francesca could, if necessary, seek asylum from her mother’s cousin, the powerful Doge of Venice.
But none of that was important now as she finally arrived at her destination. She stopped in front of the goldsmith’s shop to catch her breath. Paulus was the craftsman for the many pieces of jewelry her father had commissioned for his wife.
She knocked three times on the door, as she had been instructed to do. An old man opened the creaking door, his eyes darting around outside. “Lady Francesca,” he whispered. “Come in,” he said, closing the door behind her.
The shop was humble: worn wooden shelves filled with tools and a battered workbench by the window. But appearances were deceiving. Paulus was known to be one the finest craftsmen in Constantinople. He was celebrated for making exquisite jewelry, diadems, and brooches that dazzled the eye and delighted the owner.
“I appreciate you agreeing to see me this early, Paulus.” Francesca removed the cloak from her head, her hair curling around her shoulders as she waited to see what Paulus had made for her.
Paulus removed the cross from a leather bag, holding it up for her inspection.
“It’s beautiful,” she said, taking the cross in her hands. It was perfect in size, and not too heavy. Instead of an ornate chain, she had chosen a simple chain, one stronger and more suitable for a soldier. Running her fingers over the bright blue lapis stone, she smiled.
“Did you…?” she hesitated, looking up at Paulus.
Paulus gave her a gentle smile, his eyes crinkling in the corners. “Turn it over.”
Francesca turned the cross over. “Just as I requested,” she whispered as she gazed in wonder. In a soft voice, she read the inscription aloud: “May my cross provide courage and protection for Stefanos Varangopoulos Sebastos.” Stefanos was a foreigner—an Anglo-Saxon, born in England to a noble family that had lost its fortune. He was orphaned when he was a youth, but because of his height and strength, he was selected to be trained as a soldier in the elite Varangian Guard. Stefanos was initially assigned to the imperial family, but her father was able to persuade the emperor he had need of a fierce warrior to protect his daughter.
Glancing out the shop window, Paulus said, “Engraving a cross like this is most unusual. I only made this for you as a courtesy for the favor your family has shown me over the years. But I beg of you to be careful.”
Francesca looked up into the old man’s face. It was creased with lines, and his eyes were watery and tired. “Don’t worry, Paulus,” she said, patting his arm. “No one will know because I won’t say anything.”
“These are dangerous times, my lady,” he said in a low voice. “Many citizens are worried about the size of the Crusaders’ army that is gathering.”
She took the silk purse out of a hidden pocket in her gown and placed some coins on the counter. “My father says there is nothing to worry about, so I’m going to take him at his word.”
“I pray that’s true,” he said with a wan smile. “But Stefanos,” he frowned, pausing before saying, “He is a soldier. This gift is far too extravagant.”
“Stefanos has been a trusted member of my father’s household for years,” Francesca said with her shoulders back. “This gift is a token of appreciation before I marry and move to my husband’s home,” she said with an air of confidence she did not believe.
“Thank you, my lady.” Paulus nodded, picking up the coins. “Congratulations on your marriage. I look forward to continuing to make beautiful things for you in the future.” He tucked the cross back into its leather pouch and handed it to her.
Francesca pulled the drawstring tight, then returned it to her pocket, leaving the shop as discreetly as she had arrived.
As she rushed home, her heart soared with happiness. She couldn’t wait to meet Stefanos and give him his gift. She found herself humming one of the tunes he had been whistling recently. He always entertained her with clever songs he invented.
Francesca slipped back into the palace by the same door. She had been gone less than an hour, but there were more people about now. Turning down a hallway, the scent of roasting meat and baking bread came from the kitchens. The staff was preparing the morning meal but also food for tomorrow’s wedding feast. Her heart sank as she thought of her impending marriage. Tomorrow, she would be a married woman. But tonight she would be with Stefanos, and maybe he would find a way to save her.
***
Francesca slowed her steps when she approached the courtyard where her father’s soldiers trained. Since this was close to the barracks, there was no reason for her ever to be in this area of the palace. Soldiers lived and trained here, and as an unescorted young woman, she risked the appearance of impropriety to be anywhere near these men. She would often take detours and find excuses to be here that would make Anna furious if she ever found out.
But Francesca was clever. She had found the perfect spot, in a corner behind an enormous column, where she could watch several soldiers engaged in sword training. The clanging metal and their shouts startling at such an early hour. They were shirtless, and their breath came out in plumes of steam on this cold morning. She moved back and peeked around the stone column when Stefanos arrived. Taller than the others, he stood out by not only his height but his broad shoulders, his muscles flexing with every movement. His hair was golden brown and curled around his ears. Francesca often teased him that he looked like a peasant with his longish hair, but he would laugh and call her a spoiled princess.
