Daughters of Gemini: Seventh in the Brothers Series; Third in the Shamrocks Saga

By Clara M. Miller

Daughters of Gemini, the seventh book in the Brothers Series and the third in the Shamrocks Saga, continues the story begun in Shamrocks in the Heather and continuing in A Breath of Old Smoke. It tells of the ongoing adventures of Martin Boland Quigley, his wife Anne and their growing family..
The story begins when the Quigley twins, Theodora and Theodosia are merely six months old and their beloved brother, Roarke, four years old. As they grow, it seems the tension and war-clouds in Europe grow with them. Once again, the family is summoned to aid the mysterious group known as RISK in assessing the situation in Germany. And, once again, they are threatened with diabolical enemies as well as the rapidly expanding Nazi party. Now that Martins link to the Spear of Destiny has been revealed, Lucifer must do everything he can to keep him away from the powerful artifact. The Prince of Hell looks forward to the day that Adolph Hitler will use the Spear to initiate his greatest wish: The Rule of Chaos. He does manage to separate Martin and his closest ally, his son Roarke. But Lucifer fails to take into account the abilities of the twins. In spite of proof to the contrary, he continues to denigrate the worth of females and ignores the danger of the Quigleys Guardian Angels.
Since Conor first discovered he had a Guardian Angel who was more than willing to talk to him, the Angels have played a growing part in the lives of all the Quigleys. With the war looming and the male members of the family approaching maturity, the Angels are soon to be overworked and tempted to disobey the rule that they must render no direct aid.
This is not a religious book nor meant to endorse or promote any type of belief. It is intended to provide a verbal roller-coaster ride. Plus, Ive grown to quite like The Old Man. Enjoy!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Sep 1, 2004
• ISBN: 9781469109718

Clara M. Miller

The author was born in Buffalo, New York. Her first published book, Echoes of a Haunting (published in 1999) is non-fiction. In the fiction field, she has written Brothers (2001), Once a Demon (2002), Birds of a Feather (2002). Cirque Diabolique (2003), Shamrocks in the Heather (2003), A Breath of Old Smoke (2004) and Daughters of Gemini all in the BROTHERS Series. In 1975, she moved out West, first to California and then north to Oregon. She currently resides in the coastal town of Florence, Oregon with her mother, their dog, “Dear” Abby and a cat named Miss Kitty.

Book preview

DAUGHTERS OF GEMINI

Seventh in The Brothers Series;

Third in the Shamrocks Saga

Clara M. Miller

Copyright © 2004 by Clara M. Miller.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

To order additional copies of this book, contact:

Xlibris Corporation

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Contents

PROLOGUE

PART I

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 4

CHAPTER 5

CHAPTER 6

CHAPTER 7

CHAPTER 8

CHAPTER 9

PART II

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 4

CHAPTER 5

CHAPTER 6

CHAPTER 7

CHAPTER 8

CHAPTER 9

CHAPTER 10

CHAPTER 11

CHAPTER 12

CHAPTER 13

CHAPTER 14

CHAPTER 15

PART III

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 4

CHAPTER 5

CHAPTER 6

CHAPTER 7

CHAPTER 8

CHAPTER 9

CHAPTER 10

CHAPTER 11

CHAPTER 12

CHAPTER 13

CHARACTERS IN DAUGHTERS OF GEMINI

GLOSSARY

THE ENTIRE BROTHERS SERIES IS DEDICATED TO:

My mother, Ann Boland Miller, my staunchest fan

THIS VOLUME,

THE SEVENTH IN THE BROTHERS SERIES;

THE THIRD IN THE SHAMROCKS SAGA

IS DEDICATED TO:

The Real Bolands (my grandparents):

Mary Ann MacFarlane Boland (1/10/1870-7/20/1937)

Martin Boland (6/17/1867-8/19/1927)

Finally, I will get to introduce you to the twins, Theodora and Theodosia Quigley. I think you’ll find them as intriguing as I do, though I have inside information I won’t share with you as yet. Bear with Me. Everyone needs to have secrets now and then. As always, consult the back of the book for words you don’t understand. Read on and learn . . . .

T.O.M.

PROLOGUE

Am I you or are you me?

You in me and I in you.

Differences are hard to see.

Are we one or are we two?

Think as one and act as one.

Can we truly, thus, be two?

Lives entwined and fates enmeshed.

Tell me, sister, who is who?

Could it be Someone above

Looked on us with so much pride

That He smiled and made us two

Sharing one unique inside?

cmm

On Sunday, 6 June in the year of Our Lord nineteen hundred

and twenty-five beneath a full moon and under the sign of Gemini, Anne Bentleigh-Woolcott Quigley, wife of fellow journalist Martin Boland Quigley gave birth to twin girls, Theodora Máire and Theodosia Blythe. The mirror twins weighed exactly five pounds each and were the same age to the second. This latter wonder was due to the fact that the girls were born hugging each other and enveloped by a single caul, a sure sign that they were touched by God. That they were meant for some special, Heavenly purpose was tacitly understood by all who knew the family. That their testing would come was also common knowledge. That they’d be prepared for this testing by less strenuous but frightening trials was perhaps known but not openly admitted. Martin and Anne trusted in the twin girls’ Guardian Angels, Dahven and Dahmen, to protect their precious charges. The twins’ brother, Roarke, at four, had set himself up as a bulwark against any evil that could threaten his beloved sisters but another role awaited him, one he couldn’t have foreseen. Their home life at Casselmere—situated about twenty miles from London near Hampstead Heath—was happy, secure and full of discovery. There they were doted on by their parents, their brother, their nanny, Katya, Bella, the buxom and passionately loyal housekeeper and their devoted Irish Wolfhound, Kilt.

There were many people in England, Scotland, Ireland and even Australia who would lay down their lives for these tiny babies. In England this August group included their aunt Sheila and her husband Timothy Arbuthnott who live on their estate near Hampton Village with their own twins, Dennis Timothy and Jennifer Máire. Residing about sixteen kilometres away from Casselmere, on Pembroke Square in Holland Park, are their aunt Erin and her husband, Doctor Ardsley Cuthbert Bainbridge, affectionately known as Lee and their son, Andrew Ardsley Cuthbert, better known as Drew.

In Scotland, the twins could count on many: their grandmother and grandfather, Mary Ann and Rory Quigley who live in Lochleal; their aunt and uncle, Conor and Megan Quigley, both medical doctors, living in Edinburgh with their son, Daniel Tully. Also in Lochleal are Erin’s twin, their aunt Ethna, her husband, Douglas MacKinnon and their son, Douglas Alan Jr., who answers to Dougie, at least for now. Douglas Sr. is the editor of the Lochleal Tattler while his wife still works part time for her father in the offices of Shamrocks, Ltd. Also residing in the vicinity of the town of Lochleal are the twins’ great aunt Alison, her husband Laird Broc MacGregor and their son, George Geordie Finn. Living next door to the MacGregors are Alison’s son, Donel Quigley, his wife, Mary and their son, Finn Broc.

Although far away from Lochleal, their other uncle, Angus, probably has a closer psychic connection with the two than any of the others. Angus is studying to become a Druid priest at Mur Ollavan in the forbidding Cairngorm Mountains in the highlands of Scotland. He, perhaps more than any other, knows what trials lie ahead of the two tiny infants. He wonders and worries and then—he prays.

The twins’ other grandfather, Louis Woolcott, spoils them shamelessly when he visits London from his family home near the picturesque town of Lincoln in the East Midlands. The nursery, refurbished and repainted by Rory before Roarke’s birth, is filled with stuffed toys of every description and frilly costumes by the dozens that Louis just had to buy for his girls. Louis would arrive, arms overladen with gifts for the three children—Roarke was never forgotten in the Earl’s generosity. Roarke looked forward with great curiosity to his grandfather’s visits and the resultant gifts. Strangely enough, Roarke never expected to share in the bounty bestowed on his sisters, deeming them deserving of finer things than he. He would carry this conviction for the rest of his life.

A rather secretive group of talented individuals in London also watch the twins with a combination of fascination and dread. These are the members of RISK, the Royal Institute for the Study of Kinetics. In reality, RISK is a counter-espionage agency using psychic means to combat the rising Nazi threat in Europe. In 1925, this organization consists of: Reginald Bayreuth, Sir Ralph Carnes, Sir Ogden Carruthers, Rosa Gulden, Remington Huntsman, Colonel Trevor March, Dr. Benjamin Nichlaus, Dr. Raoul Nugent, Dr. Ronald Spearman and the mysterious man called Percival Ringwald. The latter gentleman is not the same Percival once known, feared and ultimately deeply respected by Anne and Martin. The name is used as a code for the group’s eliminator of inconveniences.

Sir Ralph, who has become an unlikely family friend, is especially interested in the progress of the twins. Although the entire group had witnessed the baptism of the twins and seen them levitate into their Angels’ waiting arms, only he had kept a grasp on their ultimate potential while, uncharacteristically, the rest merely marveled and rethought their agnosticism. Sir Ralph knows that much higher stakes are at risk here than a mere world war. Something deep inside, that he would have denied at one time, hinted of an otherworldly, outside involvement, the magnitude of which he could only guess. Every time he tried to envision the ultimate mission of the pair, his hair tingled alarmingly. He finally decided the puzzle was beyond his limited mental powers.

Since Anne and Martin had acted as agents for RISK in 1920, the members had known of the whole family’s talent along psychic and supernatural lines. Early on, they had accepted the fact that the Quigleys all saw and knew their Guardian Angels. This alone carried profound implications and opened up vistas they had yet to explore fully. If the father and mother saw Angels and were able to ask for their intervention, how much more powerful would their offspring be? Sir Ralph pondered that question daily.

In Ireland, most of the Quigley relatives have been lost over time but would one day be rediscovered. In addition, Alroy and Alma O’Toole, managers of Mary Ann’s late father’s home, now turned into an exclusive Inn, watch eagerly for news of the latest arrivals to their adopted family. They have no inkling of the latent power in the two tiny bodies.

Strangely enough, Australia boasts a group that’s equally interested in the development of the tiny duo. These long-lost relatives had been discovered only by happenstance when Martin and Anne purchased Casselmere. The O’Siadhails, the Shaughnessys and the Butlers exchange information each time one of them receives a letter from the Quigleys. Mary Ann, her two daughters and her daughter-in-law have become regular correspondents as has young Roarke. It’s Roarke’s letters they most look forward to. Especially interesting was the latest letter in which the four-year-old printed soberly, The lassies have finally stopped floating in the air.

Last, but far from being least, in Celestial climes the Old Man and His favorite son, Michael, watch the pair with pleasure and amusement. Many a Heavenly day is spent relaxing in lawn chairs and laughing with delight at the inventive pair. The antics of the pair as they discover each other and their developing powers are fascinating even to two such experienced watchers as these. The girls’ overworked Guardian Angels are hard pressed to keep up with them. Father and son mused that the future bodes well for them and ill for Michael’s prodigal older brother.

Lucifer, the prodigal, was indeed perplexed and began his plans early to foil the twins before they could reach their full potential. On these two could rest the fate of his plan to establish the rule of Chaos on Earth. Since his schemes had already suffered several setbacks lately, another would be intolerable. Although his intention to sire an Antagonist is still in the future, he knows that these tiny adversaries were not born on a whim but had been fashioned by the Old Man for the purpose of foiling him once again. While his estranged Father and Brother laugh with delight, Lucifer gnashes his teeth and fumes. Fruitlessly, he waved a clenched fist in the general direction of Heaven and, in reply, heard the distant peal of divine laughter.

PART I

Dies Tonitri

Days of thunder coming near;

Days of waiting, smell of fear.

Days of banners red with blood

Days of bracing for the flood.

Days of futile warnings sent

Days of men, destruction-bent

Days of hatred, God defiled

Days of terror, Satan smiled.

Days of speeches, crowds enrapt

Days of innocents entrapped

Days of murder, blood and gore

Days of mourning, days of WAR.

cmm

CHAPTER 1

Katya Zukarov, nanny for Roarke and the twins, was accustomed

to the incredible antics of the tiny duo and turned not a hair when they levitated. In addition, neither girl liked being wet and, often, Katya would discover them divested of nappies. She tsked at them gently and dressed them yet again. In the month of December, just before Christmas, they abruptly and simultaneously stopped levitating. Katya dutifully reported this development to her employers even as she sighed in relief. She never confided the twins’ activities to other domestics in the neighborhood since it would certainly cause them to doubt her sanity. Besides, they were her treasures, these two, and Roarke was her companion more than a charge. Roarke often exhibited a gravity and knowledge far beyond other children of his age. Although he had a lively sense of humor, he often grew silent and watchful in the presence of his sisters. This worried Katya and she’d attempt at these times to draw him out of his dark mood. Today, the day before Christmas, was one such time.

While Theodora and Theodosia spent some time with their mother, Katya fussed about the nursery planning on twin outfits for tomorrow’s festivities. The whole Quigley clan was assembling for the holidays and that was cause for celebration. Yet Roarke stood silent in the corner of the nursery, tapping his fingernail on his front tooth. The tooth was wobbly and threatening to fall out. The solemnity of his expression made his nanny chew on her lower lip. What goes on in that young mind, she wondered. To distract him, Katya laughed merrily and asked for his help. He looked up in surprise, jolted from his inner world.

Slowly, he approached Katya. I don’t know much about dresses and such. You’d better pick something out.

She held up an outfit of green velvet trimmed with tasteful red grosgrain ribbon forming tiny rosettes at the sleeves. Well, Master Roarke, what do you think of this one?

Roarke’s eyes opened wider. Are you mad at me then? You only call me ‘Master’ when I’ve done something wrong.

She dropped to the small rocking chair. Now, Roarke, you know that’s not true. I just wanted to recall you from wherever you’ve been hiding. It’s lonesome here without you. Before you know it you’ll be off to school and I’ll have no one to talk to.

Roarke snorted. I’m only going to day school. I’ll be home every evening so you won’t be alone. Besides, it’s a long time before I start school. I can’t wait, you know.

Remembering her own childhood, Katya sighed. I know how you feel but you’ll be complaining about going soon enough. Besides, you can already write better than I could after a year’s schooling.

Roarke cocked his head to one side. Do I really? I try very hard but I’m not very neat.

Katya shook her head, sending dark curls dancing until they spilled out of her dustcap. Now, that’s not so. Your cousins in Australia certainly understand your letters well enough. She put her arm out and pulled Roarke’s small body to her. Why don’t you tell me what’s bothering you when you go all silent like that?

Roarke wriggled in closer to the lavender scent of his nanny. I don’t know. Sometimes I see bad things.

She hugged him harder, vowing silently to protect this little one with her life if necessary. What bad things? Tell me. Perhaps I can help.

A finger poked once again at the offending tooth before he answered. Well, it’s like fireworks sometimes. But the lassies are there. I don’t want them frightened but I can’t help. Then I see mama and papa and they’re looking at the sky like there’s a monster up there. I see big boats—so big they’d hold this house and all the grounds. But mostly I see the lassies. Sometimes, they’re surrounded by fire but they never look afraid. That’s what I can’t figure out. They should be afraid. Shouldn’t they, Katya?

A chill shook her body, Russian superstition sending cold shivers down her spine. I should certainly be afraid if I were them. But, Roarke, they’re not like anyone else. You know that and so does everyone who sees them. We must protect them as well as we can until they’re able to protect themselves. Do you understand?

Roarke nodded his head energetically. Sure. But, why is it that I feel they can take very good care of themselves already?

Katya could think of no answer so she hugged him tighter.

Downstairs, Anne was planning the upcoming holiday festivities with Bella. Since Christmas fell on Friday this year, the clan would stay through the weekend, housed in the homes of their various relatives. Angus, Louis Woolcott, Rory and Mary Ann would stay here with them. Anne sat back in her winged armchair with a sigh. Bella, I love having the family but it is a bit wearing. I’m beginning to know how a general feels when he plans a battle.

Bella laughed. But it’s worth it. You always have such a good time. I enjoy the family myself. Besides, it’s after time they were seeing how the children are progressing.

Anne turned her eyes toward her daughters. The twins were sitting in identical positions on a blanket in front of the fire, surrounded by toys. Kilt, Martin’s Irish Wolfhound stood guard nearby. He, too, had accepted responsibility for the safety of the twins. His tongue lolled comically out of the side of his mouth drawing laughter from the two as they pointed in delight. Anne turned and had to laugh at his expression. Since Kilt thought he looked the model of an alert guard dog, his earnest face took on a more perplexed look, stung by the reaction of his audience.

Realizing she had hurt his feelings, Anne leaned over and patted him gently on the head. Good dog! You look like a fierce soldier. Kilt’s tail rapped out his agreement. The dog’s head swiveled back to his charges. Although only six months old, the twins were crawling and trying to pull themselves up to the furniture, making them hard to watch.

Bella smiled at the scene. They’re bonny as a spring day, those two. But what devils! The pride in her voice was unmistakable.

Anne sighed again and mentally promised herself she’d stop that bad habit. She didn’t really mind having guests, in fact she looked forward to it. So, why am I sighing? Is there something I’m missing, some warning? Silently, she dismissed the question and addressed Bella. I hate having all the work at the newspaper fall on Martin.

But you help him with the columns at night. Besides, it’s only for the holidays. Then things will be back to normal.

Anne laughed. I hate to break the news but this is normal. Since I met Martin my life seems to be in constant turmoil. The wonder is that I enjoy every minute of it. She returned her gaze to the pair on the floor.

Then, as though they were synchronized, the twins and Kilt turned toward the stairway. A moment later Roarke appeared and descended the steps, carefully poking at his tooth as he did so. Anne shook her head in mock admonishment. As he approached, she rose and greeted him with outstretched arms. Well, how’s the tooth coming? If you worry it much more it’ll be out before the day is over.

Roarke returned his mother’s hug and then wiggled the tooth gingerly. It’s bothering me, mama. It’s not that it hurts so much but I know it’s there and I can’t keep my tongue away from it.

As she tipped his head back with a gentle hand, he opened his mouth obligingly. Anne sighed, You know, one good yank would get rid of it.

His mouth clamped shut and he covered it with a protective hand, afraid she’d demonstrate. Suddenly, a surprised look spread over his features. It came out!

Anne laughed. That’s what you get for closing your mouth so fast. Now, go rinse your mouth out with salt water. He ran, the precious tooth clasped in his hand, to do as she had told him. He had just the box to save the tooth in. Its loss was a sure sign he was growing up. Besides, now that his tooth no longer troubled him, it would be a great Christmas.

As always, Christmas at the Quigleys proved to be noisy and boisterous. After attending Mass, the family gathered in the parlor. The giant tree, decorated with candles and tinsel, shimmered in its place of honor in front of the huge bay window. For each child, a present lay wrapped and ready at its foot. The adults’ gifts were relegated to a corner table. Rory, with much merriment and laughter, played Father Christmas. The twins, seemingly too young to join in, sat on their parents’ knees, clapping in unison as each child came forward. When their turns came, as befitted twins, they were brought forth together and sat jointly on their grandfather’s lap. After kissing the top of each curly head, he presented them with gaily wrapped parcels topped by golden bows. The twins exchanged looks and hugged their gifts close. With identical shakes of their heads, they refused to allow them to be opened. It was the consensus of opinion that they could choose their own time.

Carols were sung after the gift exchange between the adults and the children sat in a circle around the tree stuffing themselves with home-made sugarplums. The twins, dressed in the green velvet outfits, sat slightly apart from the others and didn’t miss a thing. Sometimes their gaze was so intense that the object of their study, usually one of the other children, would turn an enquiring gaze their way. When they met the steady, double-stare of the tiny girls, they shrugged and returned to their own world. The twins, unperturbed, resumed their study.

Anne turned to Martin after one such encounter. What on earth do you suppose they’re thinking?

Martin retorted solemnly, Lass, I dinna ken but y’ may be sure it’s much too deep f’r our minds. Looking at her husband and finding no humor dancing in his eyes, Anne wondered.

The family adjourned to the yard for a demonstration of Roarke’s boomerang throwing ability. He spent almost an hour showing adults and children alike how the weapon was thrown so it would return to its owner. This precious gift from his cousins in Australia was one that Roarke valued above all other possessions. For some reason, it seemed more important than a mere object should. Finally, his hands grew clumsy from the cold and he had to beg off any further exhibitions. The rest of the more conventional games were played inside in front of the roaring fireplace.

Dinner was held in both the dining room and the kitchen. The adults were grouped in the dining room around the huge table that had come with the house. The children, to their delight, were permitted to invade Bella’s bailiwick. The kitchen, with its huge stove and open fireplace, smelled more like Christmas than any other room. Here was the scent of the roasting goose with onion and sage dressing, the mashed potatoes topped with steaming gravy, the succulent, buttery squash and the spicy, sweet mincemeat pie. The Plum Pudding was busy steaming on the huge range and the sight of it drew oohs from the little group. They almost couldn’t eat, replete as they were with the sights and smells and sounds of the day.

Sitting side by side, along one side of the trestle table were five-year-old Drew Bainbridge, Danny Quigley, also five, Dennis Arbuthnott, four-and-a-half, and Craig MacMurray, almost four. Craig, son of Lord Ardsley’s chauffeur, fairly burst with the novelty of being included in on the Quigley family gathering. On the other side sat Dougie MacKinnon, almost six, Finn Quigley, four-and-a-half, Jenny Arbuthnott, also four-and-a-half and Geordie MacGregor, just five. Roarke sat at the head of the table, as befitted the son of the host and Katya sat at the foot. Roarke’s only regret was that his sisters were too young to participate. They’d been put to bed with their still-wrapped presents to take a nap.

Although Katya was far from a deterrent to merriment, the group was on its best behavior, each child having been issued stern parental warnings. The talk, however, was lively and varied. Geordie brought news of his father’s estates in Scotland and told of their yearly celebration in honor of Robbie Burns. Finn, who often accompanied his father as he managed the Laird’s estate, eagerly added to Geordie’s tale by telling stories of the cottars and their families. Dougie was full of importance at his father’s running of the Lochleal Tattler and his mother’s work at his grandfather’s Land Management Office. According to Dougie neither of his parents could manage without him. The blush that suffused his face during the telling could be taken as pride or suppressed shyness. Jenny sat silent and watchful as her brother, Dennis, told of life as the son of a Duke and the Royal receptions they attended. She was proud that he made it sound as common as the other tales and not at all special.

They sat entranced as Danny spoke of visiting the great hospital in Edinburgh, giving graphic descriptions of the worst patients. His soft Scottish burr carried effortlessly though he made no attempt at oration. Drew then took his turn. Although he had a slight stutter, the children listened just as respectfully when he spoke of his father’s work at St. Bart’s hospital and his mother’s real estate concerns. He often accompanied her to show houses and regaled the group with descriptions of castles and palatial manor houses he had seen. One of the owners, at least according to Drew, kept his horse in the parlor!

Through all their recitals, Craig sat silently taking it in. Roarke turned to him. Craig, your father must have a truly interesting job. He drives Uncle Tim to Buckingham Palace all the time. Have you been there?

Craig smiled gratefully at him and blushed his thanks. Aye. Once Lord Ardsley took us right in to meet the Palace Guard. They even let me try on their helmets. The eyes of the others at the table opened wide in wonder and Craig sat straighter still. Katya watched her ward proudly. As always, Roarke had picked out the one child who felt ill-at-ease and had effortlessly brought him into the group… . not just as an equal but as someone to be looked up to.

Bella leaned toward Katya from her place nearby; the two women exchanged looks and Bella murmured, He’s for the House of Commons, I’ll bet! They laughed quietly to themselves while the children continued their conversation unaware of the prediction just made. At a separate table sat Bella with Craig’s parents, Ivy and Dermot MacMurray and Lord Ardsley’s chief chauffeur, Ronald, whom Lee continued to call Athelbert. Tim had been unable to reclaim Ronald after having given him the temporary assignment of ferrying Lee and Erin around. Ronald now stayed with the Bainbridges at their new home in Holland Park. This little group, feeling like part of the family, sat in companionable conversation and had their own dinner, identical with that eaten by their employers.

Upstairs, the twins lay in their identical cribs, clutching their identical packages. The moonlight poured through the open drapes and the presents took on a new, more mysterious quality. Finally, Theodora sat up; Theodosia sat up. They grasped the paper and tore apart the wrapping. Inside were two identical dolls, dressed as fairy princesses. Although Anne had warned Rory that they were far too young for such fragile toys, he had insisted on buying them. The dolls were dressed in pure white peau de soie trimmed with gold rick-rack and matching lace. Their shoes were golden ballet slippers, laced with silk ribbon. Gossamer tatted lace wings, outlined in gold flared out from their backs. Haloes of filigreed gold were fastened above miniature tiaras that crowned their golden ringlets. The right hand of Theodora’s doll held a tiny wand topped with a shimmering star covered with glitter. Since they were mirror twins, Theodosia’s doll carried her wand in her left hand. Neither cuddled the new toy but inspected it with keen interest. Then, as one, they lay down and waited.

Kilt was asleep outside the door of their room when a cat suddenly appeared across the hall. Kilt jumped to attention. He snarled but kept his place, as befitted a guard dog. The cat arched its back and spat. Kilt’s hair rose along the ridge of his back and he bared his teeth in warning. In his experience, this had always been enough to rout the most persistent invader. Now four years old, Kilt had reached his full height. He stood almost thirty-six inches high at the shoulder and weighed over a hundred pounds. He made an indelible impression on any who would menace his charges. To his consternation, the cat, instead of backing down, advanced—not toward Kilt but around him—toward the nursery. This was contrary to all Kilt knew and his instincts took a moment to adjust. He moved to block the cat but it out-maneuvered him with an ease that astonished the dog. Before his snapping teeth could get a grip, the cat was through the door and racing toward the cribs. Kilt ran to intercept. What’s this idiot cat doing? In Kilt’s mind, it made no sense but his beloved babies were in peril, of that he was sure. The creature didn’t even have the scent of a cat. With much difficulty, Kilt’s long legs scrambling, he managed to sprint around the side of the cat and head him off just before the animal reached the cribs. There, he made his stand.

His snarling had aroused the twins’ interest. They pulled themselves up and stood holding onto the bars, watching the scene with fascination. Then Kilt began to whimper. The cat had grown and his eyes had taken on a strange phosphorescence. Theodora exchanged a look with her sister. As one, they picked up their new toys and held them out over the rails. No further communication was necessary. Two wills sent twin flashes of light lancing from the wands. They hit the now enormous cat full force. With a yelp, the cat fled, leaving a smell of singed hair and brimstone behind. Kilt, every instinct telling him to pursue, instead stood his ground. The hair along his spine still stood at attention, his hind legs quivered with tension but he never moved.

The sound of running footsteps from down the hall drew his attention and he gathered himself for another assault. Behind him, he heard his babies settle down into their cribs but his muscles remained taut and at the ready. A figure appeared in the door—Roarke! With an audible sigh, Kilt relaxed his posture. His young master approached at a run and bent to kiss and fondle the now shaky dog. Good boy, Kilt! Good boy! Then he turned to his sisters. Sorry, lassies, Jeremi’el was a bit late in warning me but it seems you three did all right without me. He could have sworn his sisters chuckled.

After soothing the still-quivering dog, Roarke returned to the party. The hair on the nape of his neck prickled but Jeremi’el assured him all was well. Quietly, he approached his father and bent down to whisper in his ear, Papa, Kilt and the lassies just fought off an intruder.

In spite of the softness of Roarke’s tone, Martin sprang to his feet, spilling his tea in the process. He turned to face his son, alarm making him temporarily mute. The room lapsed into alert silence. All heads turned to Martin. He grabbed his son’s arm, apologized and loosened his grip but didn’t let go entirely. Roarke, what’re y’ sayin’, lad? An intruder? What intruder?

Anne hurried across the room and cast worried eyes toward the upstairs. One moment they’d been sitting peacefully sharing after-dinner tea and the next, the room had assumed the aura of a battlefield. She stood, stricken, unsure whether to run to her daughters or find out what happened first. Just then Katya entered the room carrying plates of plum pudding. She stopped short when she saw the stillness of the people in the room. Instinctively, she set the plates on a nearby table and headed for the stairs at a run. Roarke’s voice sounded much older than his years and assumed a note of authority not usually present. No, Katya! They’re sleeping and Kilt is standing guard.

Without a protest, Katya returned to stand by Anne. Her voice was the one that asked the question. What happened? Can you tell us?

Roarke nodded and was surprised at how his voice shook now that the immediate danger was over. After a false start, he took a deep breath and stated baldly. Jeremi’el told me the twins were in danger but that Kilt could probably handle it. I ran up as fast as I could. I went along the hall and saw a huge gray cat run out of the nursery. Its hair was smoking; I could smell it. When I went in the room Kilt was standing guard in front of the cribs. His hair was standing straight up along his back. I patted him and he was shaking inside. The twins were just lying there smiling.

He took another breath, aware of the absolute silence in the room. Jeremi’el said that the cat was really someone called Beelzebub.

Anne and Martin gasped at the same time. Martin’s voice rapped out. An’ jist why didn’a Dahven or Dahmen interfere?

Roarke smiled, more sure of himself now. Jeremi’el says they wanted to see what the twins would do. They knew that, between them, they could handle him and I’m sure the Angels would have helped if they had to. I guess they knew what they were doing. Grandpa, you were right about the dolls. The lassies used those wands to send power that singed the cat. But Kilt did his part too. He intercepted the thing and tried to keep it at bay. He didn’t know that he couldn’t handle him alone but he tried. I think he’s the bravest dog I’ve ever seen. He was ready to take me on too until he recognized me. I don’t think he’ll sleep much tonight even though I told him the danger was over for now. Those two really singed that bloke!

The pride in his voice was evident. Martin and Anne, after exchanging looks, made for the stairs. In spite of their son’s reassurances, they had to check their daughters for themselves. Katya was right behind them, the plum pudding forgotten. As the trio approached the nursery, they could hear the heavy panting of the great wolfhound. Entering, they saw Kilt still standing at attention, ready to do battle. Before he reached the cribs, Martin knelt by the dog and stroked his head lovingly. Y’re a braw laddie, Kilt. Sure an’ what’d we do wi’out y’? ’Tis all right now. Y’ c’n relax a bit. The monster’s gone. The dog’s rigid posture eased and he lowered his body to the floor. Anne and Katya were already at the cribs. Martin joined them and they gazed wonderingly at the twin visions. Both girls lay in identical positions, thumbs firmly in their mouths—Theodora’s right thumb, Theodosia’s left. They were serenely and soundly asleep. At their sides lay two fairy princesses, still lovely, still gossamer but with singed areas in the center of each of their wands.

CHAPTER 2

Lucifer was getting mortally tired of his Chief Lieutenant’s

whining. Beelzebub should not have let two six-month-old babies get the better of him. Blithefully, he ignored the fact that he knew without a doubt that these were no normal six-month-olds. Beelzebub lay in the corner of his master’s office nursing the burns on his back and side. Lucifer growled, Couldn’t you at least have finished off the dog?

Beelzebub sniffled. No, master. I think the twins were protecting him, not themselves. I don’t believe they thought they needed protection. What are they? Lucifer rubbed his elegant chin and thought out loud. I’m not quite sure but I’d say they were the latest weapon forged by the Old Man to spoil my plans yet again. I won’t stand for this, Bub. First my son, Ashmadai, disappoints me by planning a revolt; then that incompetent demon, Otis, helps my enemies to escape and now this! I have reached the limit of my patience!

While Lucifer paced, Bub waited. Finally, the Prince of the Underworld spun on his heel. I’ll bide my time a bit longer. There’s a world war in the offing. I’ll just bring it closer to those two little witches. Then, we’ll see who’s the stronger. His laughter rang out, sending minor demons scurrying for cover.

Dahven stood at attention talking to Michael. The great Archangel signaled him to relax. Dahven reported the twins’ reaction to Beelzebub’s invasion with great satisfaction. His report was unnecessary, he knew, since Michael and the Old Man were keeping close tabs on his charges but he couldn’t help boasting about them. A slight smile crossed Michael’s face. Neither Dahven nor Dahmen were known for their softness toward mankind and this about-face amused many. Still, that’s why the Old Man varied the assignments of His Heavenly messengers. Each Angel served an apprenticeship in each field. Dahven and Dahmen made up the Qaddisin and ranked higher than the seraphim. They had served their military apprenticeship under Michael and had distinguished themselves; they had held administrative posts and been outstanding but their very talents made them feel an aloofness from lesser creatures, including mortals. The Old Man had been right and why was Michael not surprised by that news? Now the Qaddisin were learning compassion at the tiny hands of two beautiful little girls. Michael thought wryly, will wonders never cease?

CHAPTER 3

The harsh winter gave way reluctantly to a rapturous spring.

Before anyone knew, it was March and Roarke was five years old; then April and the twins celebrated their first birthday. At Roarke’s insistence, the family postponed his celebration until April so they could hold their parties together. Mary Ann and Rory traveled down from Lochleal to attend as did Ethna and Dougie. At the last minute Alison decided to bring Geordie and Finn along as well. She apologized that the rest of the family was busy with planting and repair work on the Laird’s holdings. Of course, Erin brought Drew and Sheila brought Jenny and Dennis. Angus picked his nephew, Danny, up at the station in Edinburgh on his way to Hampstead. Adding to the group were their grandfather, Louis, and Ivy and Craig MacMurray. A late arrival, Sir Ralph apologized for attending without invitation. Anne assured him, You’re always welcome. I just didn’t think you’d want to attend a children’s party.

He smiled at her; his respect and affection for both her and Martin had grown even greater over the years. My dear, this children’s party I couldn’t miss. He handed her three neatly wrapped presents. Her answering smile, as always, made his heart beat a little faster.

The twins were walking now and had been since they were barely eight months old. They even managed to speak a few words although when they chattered to each other no one understood a thing they said. More recognizable words included: mama, papa, Rook, Kata, Kit and Bawa. Kilt had even learned to answer to his abbreviated name. Bella rather liked their version of her name. Now, they ran happily around the garden, ever at each other’s sides, and visited their guests. Roarke kept a close eye on them as always and a vigilant Kilt sat near the gate, never taking his eyes off his charges. Some primitive instinct, deep in the dog’s subconscious, told him that what he’d faced late last year was not a cat but something much more dangerous. The creature wouldn’t catch him unprepared again. Now he knew its scent and his mouth fairly watered at the thought of sinking his sizeable teeth into its hide.

A table was set up in the center of the garden, next to the small summerhouse. Cake and ice cream were served along with fancy dishes of candy mints, all washed down with Bella’s special fruit punch. When Theodora decided her twin looked very fetching with ice-cream in her hair, Theodosia agreed and made sure her twin received her share as well. While Anne and Katya cleaned them up. Roarke led the group in a lively game of tag.

Late in the afternoon, the clouds began to pile up threateningly on the horizon and the party adjourned indoors. There, they all played until dinnertime. Everyone was staying overnight. It was a treat they all looked forward to. Pillows and blankets lay folded and ready on the table in the sitting room to accommodate the boys in the group. Jenny, as the only girl, would sleep with her mother upstairs. She vaguely resented that but accepted with as much grace as possible.

Around six Martin came home bringing a gust of rain with him. He whooped when he saw his three children as they ran toward him. Soon he had an armful of giggling twins and a pair of strong five-year-old arms clasped his neck. This moment makes it all worthwhile, Martin thought, even as he pushed the news from Europe out of his mind.

After a light dinner, the children adjourned to the sitting room accompanied by Katya, to play games and tell stories. Allowed to participate until their bedtime, the twins babbled happily to themselves, prompting some to wish they understood. Whatever information they were exchanging sounded very amusing. Finally deciding they’d had enough, Theodora and Theodosia lay down on the floor and made it quite plain it was bedtime for them. Katya helped Anne to carry them upstairs. Bella brought in cups of cocoa and plates of cookies for the rest. She smiled with pleasure at how well they all behaved. No one was left out; everyone had a fair hearing and everyone was treated as an equal.

As the day wound down so did