Every now and then she gave a quiet hiccough.

"The first time," Darcy was saying, "was with Declan O'Malley and we swore we would love each other ever and a day. We were sixteen and fumbling at it. We did it on a blanket on the beach one night when we both snuck out of the house. And let me tell you, there's nothing a bit romantic about rolling around on the sand, even when you are sixteen and stupid as a turnip."

"I think it's sweet," Jude said dreamily, imagining the moonlight and the crash of waves and two young bodies gleaming with love and discovery. "What happened to Declan O'Malley?"

"Well, forever and a day lasted about three months for the pair of us, and we went on to other things. Two years back he got Jenny Duffy in trouble, so they married and have a second daughter to go with the first. And seem happy enough."

"I'd like to have children." Jude rolled over to find her wine. It had begun to taste like ambrosia. "When William and I discussed it-"

"Discussed it, did you?" Brenna put in, and as guardian of the bottle, took Jude's gla.s.s to refill it.

"Oh, yes, in a very logical, practical, and civilized manner. William was always civilized."

"I think William needed a boot in the a.r.s.e." Brenna handed the gla.s.s back, ducking so the wine that slopped as Jude laughed missed splashing on her hair.

"His students call him Dour Powers. That's his name, William Powers. Of course, being a modern professional woman, I kept my own name, so I didn't have all that fuss with the divorce. Anyway- what was I saying?"

"How civilized Dour Powers is."

"Oh, yes. William decided that we'd wait five to seven years. Then, if circ.u.mstances were acceptable, we would discuss having a child again. If we decided to go ahead with it, we would research and choose the proper day care, preschool facilities, and once we knew the s.e.x of the child, we'd determine which educational plan to put into action straight up to college."

"College?" Darcy turned. "Before the baby's born?"

"William was very forward-thinking."

"For a man with his head up his b.u.m."

"He's probably not as bad as I'm making him out to be." Jude frowned into her wine. "Probably. He's much happier with Allyson." To her shock, tears sprang to her eyes. "He just wasn't happy married to me."

"The b.a.s.t.a.r.d." Swamped with sympathy, Darcy abandoned the closet and sat on the bed to wrap an arm around Jude's shoulders. "He didn't deserve you."

"Not for a b.l.o.o.d.y minute," Brenna agreed, patting Jude's knee. "Stuffy, stub-nosed, philandering b.a.s.t.a.r.d. You're a hundred times better than any Allyson."

"She's blond," Jude said with a sniffle. "And has legs up to her ears."

"Blond from a bottle, I'll wager," Darcy said staunchly. "And you have wonderful legs. Gorgeous legs. I can't keep me eyes off them."

"Really?" Jude swiped a hand under her nose.

"They're fabulous." Brenna gave Jude's calf a bolstering stroke. "He's probably going to bed each night steeped in regret for losing you."

"Oh, h.e.l.l." Jude exploded. "He was a boring son of a b.i.t.c.h. Allyson's welcome to him."

"He probably can't even get her off," said Darcy, and Jude snorted with glee.

"Well, I certainly never heard the angels sing. This is great." She rubbed the heels of her hands over her face to dry it. "I never had friends to come over and get drunk and toss my clothes around before."

"You can count on us." Darcy gave her a hard squeeze.

Sometime during the third bottle of wine, Jude told them about what she'd seen-thought she'd seen-in the old cemetery.

"It comes down through the blood," Darcy said with a knowing nod.

"Old Maude had the sight, and it's often she talked to the Good People."

"Oh, come on."

Darcy only lifted one elegant brow at Jude's comment. "And this from the woman who's just described two meetings with a faerie prince."

"I never said that. I said I met this odd man twice. Or thought I did. I'm afraid I have a brain tumor."

Brenna grimaced at the very idea. "Nonsense. You're healthy as a horse."

"If not that, if there's no physical cause, then I'm just crazy. I'm a psychologist," she reminded them. "Well, I was one, a mediocre one, but still, I have enough training to recognize the symptoms of a serious mental disfunction."

"Why should that be?" Brenna demanded. "As far as I can tell, you're the most sensible of women. My ma thinks because of that, and your ladylike manner, you'll be good for me." Cheerfully, Brenna gave Jude a light punch on the shoulder. "And despite that I like you anyway."

"You really do, don't you?"

"Of course I do, and so does Darcy, and not just for your fine clothes."

"Of course I don't just like our Jude for her clothes." Darcy's tone radiated insult at the very idea. "I like her for her baubles, too." With that, she collapsed in laughter. "I'm joking. Sure we like you, Jude. You're fun to be with and a wonderful puzzle to listen to half the time."

"That's so nice." Her eyes welled up again. "It's so nice to have friends, especially when you're either dying of brain cancer or acting like a raving lunatic."

"You're neither. You saw Carrick of the faeries," Brenna announced. "Wandering the hills above his raft until Lady Gwen joins him."

"Do you really believe that?" It seemed possible now, in a way it hadn't-a way she hadn't let it-only a few hours before. "Believe in faerie forts and ghosts and spells that last centuries? You're not just saying that to make me feel better?"

"I'm not, no." Wrapped in Jude's thick robe, Brenna dipped into what was left of the chocolate. "I believe in lots of things until it's proved otherwise. So far as I know, no one's ever proved there absolutely aren't faerie forts under the hills hereabouts, and people say there are more often than not."

"Yes!" Even blurred by wine, Jude's enthusiasm was ripe as she slapped Brenna on the shoulder. "Exactly my point. Legends are perpetuated, and often take on the sheen of truth by the repet.i.tion. Arthur of history becomes Arthur of legend with additions of magic swords and Merlin. Vlad the Destroyer becomes a vampire. The wise women, the healers, of villages become witches, and so on. The human tendency to expound, to extrapolate, to garnish with fantasy to make a tale more entertaining in turn makes the tale a legend that certain groups then take into their culture as fact."

"Just listen to her. She sure talks fancy and fine." Darcy, delighted to be wearing one of the cashmere sweaters, pursed her lips in thought. "And I'm sure, Jude darling, there's something in what you just said that's profound and miraculous, even for one who claims to have been a mediocre psychologist. But it sounds like bulls.h.i.t to me at the moment. Did you or did you not see Carrick of the faeries this very day?"

"I saw someone. He didn't tell me his name."

"And did this someone vanish into the air before your very eyes?"

Jude scowled. "It seemed he did, but-"

"No, no buts, just the facts. That's how it's done, isn't it, logically speaking? If he talked to you, he wants something from you, as I haven't heard of him talking to anyone but Old Maude in my lifetime. Have you, Brenna?"

"No, I can't say as I have. Were you frightened of him, Jude?"

"No, of course not."

"That's good, then. I think you'd know if he meant to cause you harm or mischief. I think he's just lonely and wanting his lady beside him. Three hundred years," she said longingly. "It's a kind of comfort to know love can last."