Despite getting
very little rest over the course of the weekend, thanks to strange and vivid
dreams, Gwen was determined to keep her Monday morning appointment with Reverend
Matthews. He expected her at his office to sign final papers, and settle her
mother’s affairs. However hard it would be, she had to cope with her grief and face
things head on to take care of what needed to be done.
Tucking her handbag under her arm, Gwen opened
the front door only to be met by piercing black eyes. “Oh, my goodness, it’s
you!”
“My apologies,” the
stranger from the cemetery said. “I was just about to knock.”
“You startled me.” The man who’d been appearing
in some of those strange dreams she’d been having, was now standing right in
front of her.
“You remember me.”
His eyes searched her face.
“I…I was
distraught at the time, but of course…I mean yes, I remember you from… the
other day.” The heat rose in her cheeks and her pulse quickened as she gripped
the door, trying to make sense of her reaction to a man she didn’t even know. “Can
I help you?”
“Actually, I think
you’re the only one who can.”
She glanced past
him, scanning the road in front of her house. “Is someone hurt?”
“No, it’s nothing
of that nature,” he said, shaking his head. “It’s that… you’re the only one who
can help me. Actually, I believe we’re destined to help each other.”
“Destined? I’m sorry Mr…?”
“Pryce.” He tipped
his hat.
“Mr. Pryce,” she
repeated, noticing his accent but unable to quite place it. “I don’t understand.”
“Our meeting one
another has been a long time in coming.” He raised his hand to his brow, wiping
what looked to be a nervous sheen. “I’ve been looking for you for months.”
“Looking for me?” His
words should have raised some sort of alarm; but when his eyes again met
hers, Gwen was distracted by how they weren’t
black, but a beautiful warm brown, flecked with gold. A gust of wind blew through the open door,
making her shudder. “Whatever for?”
“Could you spare a
few moments to speak with me?” Mr. Pryce held on to his hat, as the wind seemed
determined to blow it away.
“I have an
appointment this morning Mr. Pryce. Couldn’t you just tell me why you’re here
and why you’ve been looking for me?”
“It’s complicated
and a mite unbelievable. If I don’t have a few moments to explain properly, I
may make such a mess of this that you’d be inclined to order me off your
porch.”
“I just might do that anyway.”
“Yes, of course, and that would be completely
understandable,” he said with a tight-lipped smile. He nodded and then let out
a breath. “It would seem…I can’t live
without you.”
“W-What?” She
sputtered. “You’ve definitely mistaken me for someone else.”
“Believe
me, I’m not mistaken.”
“Oh, you are, Mr.
Pryce, and if you’ll excuse me, I really have to go.” Gwen reached out to close
the door, but Mr. Pryce caught her hand with his.
“Please give me a
chance to explain, Miss Evans.”
She went still. “How
do you even know me?”
“This isn’t how
I imagined it would be. I’m sorry.”
“Imagined what
would be?” Gwen wondered if he meant the tingling sensation emanating from
where his hand touched hers.
“I don’t want to
frighten you. I promise, I mean you no harm.”
She pulled her
hand from his grasp, looking him squarely in the eye. “I’m not afraid.”
“Then you’re
braver than I.” His eyes were filled with an emotion Gwen felt was surely too
intimate to be appropriate.
“Why are you looking
at me that way?”
“You don’t know how important this moment is
for me. Please, allow me just a few moments.”
His sincerity rang
true, Gwen thought, and hadn’t she, only a few days ago, wished for a few more
moments to find out more about him?
“I’ll give you ten.”
“I’ll make them
count.” Mr. Pryce crossed the threshold and entered the house.
* *
* *
“You have a lovely
home.” Mr. Pryce’s gaze shifted to the portrait above the piano.
“That’s my grandmother
in the painting,” Gwen said, glancing up at Nan’s youthful, oval face. Her fine
features framed by rich caramel coloured hair, a shade darker than Gwen’s but
wavy and long like hers. Her almond-shaped, ocean-blue eyes looked out from
under her long, dark lashes. They held a playful sparkle, and in Gwen’s
opinion, her grandmother’s most striking feature.
“You look like
her.”
“Nan used to say the women in our family had a
strong resemblance.”
“Is that so?”
Gwen watched Mr.
Pryce carefully as he took in his surroundings then turned back to her. “Please tell me why you’re here.”
“Yes, of course.” He placed his hat on the
table by the settee. “I’ll begin by saying that our story began many years
ago.”
“Our story? We’ve
only just met.”
“That
may be true but you might say I’m an old soul.”
“And
how does that have anything to do with me?”
“Well,
I believe you are an old soul, as well.”
“I
still don’t see how our souls have –”
“That’s
why I came here. To invite you back to my home in Snowdonia.” The light in his
eyes shone hopeful. “Where I believe everything would make sense.”
“I’m stunned. Why would you come to Angel’s
Cove thinking I’d go back with you?” Gwen’s eyes followed him as he began to
pace back and forth.
“Seeing the look of distrust in your eyes, I’m
asking myself the same thing,” he replied. “After all this time, planning what
I was going to say to you, I realize that I’ve gone about this all wrong. I should have written to you. Introduced
myself. Perhaps explained in a letter. I can’t blame you for thinking I’m out
of my head.”
“It’s not that I
think you’re crazy, only believing I would follow a stranger to wherever it is
that you come from is—”
“Wales.” Mr. Pryce
stopped pacing.
“You’re from Wales?”
“Yes, I live there
with my family. You have ancestors from
there as well.”
A memory flashed
in her mind of Nan recounting how their ancestors, the Brecons, had come from
Wales.
Although you don’t
know it yet, we are connected, you and I.”
Gwen stared at Mr.
Pryce, her brows knitting together.
“I swear it’s the
truth. I know everything would become clear if you return with me to the
Snowdonia Mountains. I’m certain of it.”
“How can you possibly think I’d go with you to
Wales and why would I want to?”
A bead of
perspiration ran down in his brow. “Because our families share an intimate
history.”
“For Heaven’s sake, I don’t even know you!”
“Miss Evans,
you’ve only given me ten minutes to convince you…” He ran his hand through his
hair, struggling for the right words to say. “Our history binds your family and
mine in a way that we cannot live one without the other.”
“There you go again
with that!”
“I understand
you’ve-”
“You don’t
understand anything about what I’ve gone through, Mr. Pryce.” She gripped the
back of the chair. “I don’t know what you’re really looking for by coming here.
I have no fortune hidden away. I don’t
know much about the history of my family, but I can guarantee I’m not the
person you cannot live without.”
“Miss Evans, I’m
not looking for money. I would never take anything from you.”
“Well I wanted to make
it clear, since we don’t know each other.”
“But I do know you,” he replied. “You were
born January 25th 1914, the only child of Catherine Brecon and
Thomas Evans. You’ve lived in this town,
in this house, all of your life.”
Gwen’s eyes
narrowed. “Facts easily obtained if one knows where to look.”
“You were an
excellent student, you’re an asset to the hospital, you attend church every
Sunday, and you’re very well liked, especially by someone named John Allen.”
Was it her
imagination, or did his jaw tighten when he mentioned John’s name? “John’s just
a friend.”
“Anne Reilly, the
woman who consoled you in the cemetery, she is your closest childhood friend.” The
details were becoming more personal.
“Obviously, you
have me at a disadvantage, and I don’t like it. How you were able to get people
to tell you these things about me, confounds me.”
“I didn’t. They
only confirmed what I already knew. I told you, there’s a connection. You hold
the key to everything.”
“What key?”
Mr. Pryce reached
into his cloak, pulled out a black leather pouch and placed it in Gwen’s hand.
“Open it. The contents might help explain.”
His fingers
brushed her palm, sending a shiver up her arm. Gwen stared at the pouch for a
brief moment before untying the leather thong and emptying its contents into
her hand. She bit the inside of her lip to hide her surprise.
In her palm she
held the same gold pendant as the one her mother left to her, the same one hidden
beneath her blouse.
A soft vibrating
hum resonated. Her eyes darted to Mr. Pryce, wondering if he could hear it,
too.
“It’s beautiful,”
she whispered. “Does it belong to you, Mr. Pryce?”
“Yes. There’s an engraving
on the back.”
Gwen turned the
pendant over, staring at the familiar intricate artwork. The engraving was
etched exactly the same with one difference.
“Dwynwen,” she said aloud.
“Yes. And there is
the first bit of evidence I have to prove our families are connected.”
“How so?” she
asked.
“Dwynwen is your grandmother’s name. The engraving reads ‘A cross to guide us and a
never-ending circle to bind us, forever’. It’s a promise. A vow. Made to
Dwynwen. The first in your family,” he said, gesturing to the portrait on the
wall. “Those who came after were named for her, your great grandmother
included.”
“What are you
talking about?”
“Dwynwen, she had
a pendant just like this one. You have seen it, I’m sure.”
“Mr. Pryce, I’ve never seen anything like it.”
The pendant, like her lie, weighed heavy on her chest. “You claim to know all
about my family, yet…”
“Miss Evans, it is imperative that I return
home as soon as possible. Your coming to Wales
“How could you
possibly think such a thing? There are
no facts, no proof, only a name, which convinces me of nothing. You may know
things about me, and the ability to find out more when you came to Angel’s
Cove, but you can’t possibly know about the rest of my family. And if my
grandmother did own a pendant like this, how would you know?”
“Because, I do,
Miss Evans.”
“That’s
not the right answer. A matter of life and death….really!” Gwen grumbled as she marched to the front door
and threw it open. “Your time is up, Mr. Pryce.”
Mr. Pryce was on Gwen’s
heels and when she turned, he caught her hands once more.
“What are you
doing?” she asked, feeling something like an electric shock pass between them.
“I
didn’t come all this way to give up so easily. I know Dwynwen had a pendant
just like this one.” He stared down at the pendant still clenched in Gwen’s
fist. “I believe your mother gave it to you.”
He knew about the
pendant, the twin of the one in her hand!
But how?
Damn it! Damn him!
Gwen pulled away
from him, steadying herself on the banister of the staircase by the door, “All
right, you won’t tell me how you know all these things, but maybe you can
answer one question.”
“If I can, I
will.”
“Who is Liam?”
Mr. Pryce stood
unblinking for what felt to Gwen like an endless moment. “I am.”
Gwen gasped for
breath as the walls closed in on her.
“Gwen, are you all
right?” The man with the name that had
only hours ago, echoed in the silence of her mournful home, called out to her
as she felt her body sink to the floor.
Mr. Pryce caught
her in his arms, the pendant slipped from her grasp, falling onto the floor,
where it landed with a soft thud.
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