Judith is the author of The Sacred Women’s Circle series,
romantic fiction that honors spiritual practices that nourish the soul and
celebrates the journey from relationship to romance.
I’m doing something a bit different this month by sharing
favorite scenes from at least the first two books in the series Lily and Elizabeth.
Last week, my favorite scene from the New Year’s Eve chapter was published.
Today I’m sharing part of Sacred Space chapter. Let me know what you think and
if you’d like to see this a regular feature!
Elizabeth
is in Ireland and Michael’s stud farm. They have had a falling out and these
are the first steps in finding their way back to each other.
Michael was hot, tired, and dirty when he came through the kitchen door. He’d mucked out stalls, hauled hay and bags of oats, and worked his horses all in an effort to forget the beguiling woman in his house. It’d been three days since he found Elizabeth unconscious, since his heart stopped, since his confrontation with The Lady.
Although She’d been quiet, he knew better than to think She’d given up. She was biding her time, waiting for the right time to come forth again. She was the spirit of this place, as old as time. She was energy manifested in the ancient blue robe of the sacred feminine, the Goddess. No, he was certain She hadn’t given up.
From the kitchen he strode down the hall to the back stairs leading up to his quarters. He desperately needed a shower, clean clothes and something to eat - in that order. Thirty minutes later he was showered, shaved, dressed, descending the main staircase for the last item on his list: to satisfy his hunger.
He noticed something different about the place, as he moved down the main staircase the tips of his fingers trailing along the smooth finish of the banister. Before he could identify what that difference was he heard Elizabeth singing.
“She’s been waiting … .”
The purity of her sweet voice, the words of the old song held Michael transfixed.
“ … to return.”
Michael remained standing on the bottom step listening to the words of a song he’d not heard in over a year, not since Shannon had left.
“ … alone.” She drew out the last word, her voice caressing the last note.
Silence.
Michael stood in the stillness, his heart beating rapidly. What if we … “No,” he muttered harshly to himself. “No,” he cursed under his breath. He stepped down the final riser to the tiled floor, his boots echoing in the large hall.
She was standing in the doorway to the front parlor, her hair tied back in a blue ribbon he was sure matched the blue of her eyes. A long dark blue skirt swirled around her bare ankles. Even though her hair was tied back, strands had escaped. Fascinated he watched her hand brush the inky tangles away, tuck them behind her ears. The indifference he’d managed the past three days, that is once the panic had dissipated and he knew she’d recover, dissolved in a rush of unrequited lust. His blood surged, his arousal stiffen.
A look of uncertainty marred her features, hesitancy her movements. She’s changed, flashed through his mind, but he couldn’t put his finger on how she was different. He stood staring at this woman, realizing he cared for her not just about her, cared far more than he wanted to. Hell and damnation. Now what, boyo?
Elizabeth’s senses were caressed by the sandalwood scent wafting across the space. His blue-black hair, still damp from his shower, showed the ridges where he’d combed it. To her, he looked spectacular: tall, dark, and handsome as sin.
Outwardly she remained still under his unrepentant gaze, inwardly a cascade of nerves sizzled. Her gaze steadfast, she straightened her spine, lifted her chin, and took a few steps away from the doorway.“Hi, Michael, how was your day? How is Brian Boru?” Elizabeth said her voice not as soothing as she’d hoped. Her heart fluttered, her face flushed with heat, and her palms dampened.
From the moment she’d been aware of his presence, Elizabeth had scrutinized his every move and saw the subtle signs of his nervousness. Smiling, she stopped a few feet in front of him.
Michael was mesmerized by her gently swaying hips, her bare feet gliding over the floor. Her scent of bergamot and the indefinable something surrounded him, filled his senses. Her mouth, those luscious warm kissable lips were moving, were saying something. He shook his head.
“…mind, Michael. I can take them down, if you do.”
He cleared his throat, ran his tongue inside his now very dry mouth, “Sorry, Elizabeth, I didn’t catch all that you were saying.” His mouth stretched in a caricature of a smile.
“I was saying that if you mind, I’ll take the altars down. I put one up here,” she said and gestured to the table to his right, “and one is now in the front parlor. I wanted something to do and thought of creating a specific point of sacredness within each room. Would you like to see them before you make up your mind?”
At his terse nod, she moved to stand by the main hall altar. “As your life here at The Manor revolves around horses, I used them on this altar.
As you can see, I put the bronze of the foal in the East as that direction represents new beginnings, spring, birth. The mare is in the South to stand for abundance. I put the jumper in the West as that is the void and from the meets, I now know that the jumper doesn’t know what is on the other side of the jump. It’s like they are jumping into the void and it is their trust of the rider that allows this miracle to happen. I’m not sure what the significance is of the stallion in the North. It was the only place left so I just trusted that it was the right place for him to be.”
“Suleiman.” Michael reached out to stroke the bronze stallion reared on its hind legs. “This is Suleiman, the stud that built this place, the ancestor of Brian Boru.”
“Then Suleiman is in the right place,” Elizabeth’s voice was soft, she touched his sleeve with her hand. “Are you all right with this altar, here, in this space, Michael?”
His voice wasn’t steady so he remained silent, looking at the altar she’d created from bronze statues, stones, and a crystal bowl. Energy flowed from it. Welcoming and powerful, like being at the races with his horses pounding down the course, straining with purpose for the finish line, focused on the love of running. Their beauty, grace, and power were like an aphrodisiac, beckoning him to indulge in the glory of the win, endorphins taking him higher into the light of joy.
His voice was brusque, “It’s fine where it is.” He started for the door to the hallway that led to the kitchens. “I’m hungry. I’m going to see what Seamus has for dinner.” He called back over his shoulder as he kept going, “Are you coming?”
***
Elizabeth remained by the altar. He’d been affected by it. The main clue was when he’d absent-mindedly stroked Suleiman. She pressed a hand to her unsettled stomach. I miss him more than I can say and I’ve not even left for Fremont. Catching herself up short she reminded herself this line of thinking wasn’t useful. I’m hungry and dinner is waiting. The right time to talk to him will present itself. She looked at the wall beyond which lay the Sacred Grove and The Lady. Trust The Lady. She brought you here for a purpose. Trust. “Trust,” she murmured and started after him.
Your free digital copy of the first four chapters of Elizabeth: The Lady and The Sacred Grove are available here.
Go to JudithAshleyRomance.com and sign up for my occasional newsletter “Connections.”
Follow the prompts to download your own digital copy of Lily: The Dragon and The Great Horned Owl the first book in The Sacred Women’s Circle series.
Follow the prompts to download your own digital copy of Lily: The Dragon and The Great Horned Owl the first book in The Sacred Women’s Circle series.
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© Excerpt from Elizabeth
2014 - Judith Ashley
