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"If the kids have a sleep after lunch, Jo, I'll take you back again if you like. "

Jo hesitated. "I think I'm going to have to go on, Ann, " she agreed at last. "On to the end of the story. That is the only way I'll be free of her. And I'd like it to be with you there. "

Ann frowned. "You don't mean you want to go on, until her death?"

"I think I have to. "

"Are you sure?" Ann was looking doubtful. "I know it's often done, but you don't know how she died. Death scenes can be pretty traumatic, even under deep hypnosis. "

"I do know how she died. "

"How?" Ann sat down at the table near Jo, her elbows spread, her chin propped on her hands, her eyes fixed on Jo's face.

"John had her thrown into a dungeon and starved to death. "

"Sweet Jesus!" Ann caught her breath.

Jo smiled bleakly. "It's knowing about it when she doesn't that is so terrible. I watch her with part of myself, antagonizing John, antagonizing him almost deliberately, from the first day they met. " She clenched her fists suddenly. "He loved her, Ann. I really think he loved her, and she found him attractive once he had grown to manhood, and yet they never managed to communicate. They just seemed to knock sparks off each other all the time. "

"None of this was in that article you showed me. "

"Pete obviously doesn't know his history. He just thought it would be fun linking the name of a king to the story of Matilda. Linking Nick's name—" She bit her lip and turned abruptly away to study the view. "I just want to get it over with, Ann, " she said after a moment over her shoulder, "so I can get on with my own life. Matilda is an intrusion! A parasite, feeding off me, sucking my... not my blood, exactly, but something. "

"Your life force. " Ann stood up again. "I've had an idea. Come and help me prepare the salad, then later we'll try a new approach. It may be that you've put your finger on something. I'd like to try an experiment. I'd like to see if Matilda really is a memory—or if she is a spirit, using you for some purpose. A spirit who is not at rest. "

Jo gasped. "You're not serious? You mean I'm possessed?"

Ann laughed. "It's always a possibility. Come on. Don't worry about it. Later we'll try to find out what this poor lady wants from you. "

Worn out by the heat, the two small children went to bed in their cool north-facing bedroom without their customary protest. Outside, Ben had moved the table into the shade of one of the ancient yew trees near the house. He sat down on the wooden chair and looked solemnly at his wife. "Take care, Annie. You are sure you know what you're doing?"

Ann sat down opposite Jo. "I know, " she said. "You trust me, Jo, don't you?"

Jo nodded, her eyes on Ann's face.

Slowly Ann reached forward and put her cool hands over Jo's. The shadow moved slightly and Jo felt the sudden blaze of the sun in her eyes. She closed them involuntarily, conscious only of the heavy scented silence of the early afternoon.

"Matilda." Ann's voice was gently insistent. "Matilda, I command you speak. Matilda, if you are a spirit from the world beyond, tell us what it is you want in our world. Your time is past, your story is finished, so why do you speak through Joanna?"

There was a long silence. Jo's eyes remained closed, her whole body relaxed. Ann repeated her question twice more, then she glanced at Ben. "You were right. It's not a spirit, or if it is, I can't reach it. It just struck me that Jo could be a natural medium. But I don't think it is that. If she is possessed, it is not in the way people usually mean when they talk of possession. "

"Bloody ridiculous, woman! Wake her up and let's have some of that foul coffee. " Ben was looking distinctly uncomfortable.

"It's too hot for coffee. " Ann stroked Jo's hand gently. "Lady Matilda. Tell me more about your children. Whom did they marry?"

Jo opened her eyes slowly. She drew back a little into the shade, looking past Ann and Ben across the grass toward the steep slope where the garden began to fall away into the valley. Beyond lay the hazy mountains.

The day of Will's wedding to Mattie de Clare dawned bright and showery. Bramber Castle was in high excitement, for not only was the eldest son of William de Braose at last being married, but the king himself was guest of honor.

Matilda stood staring out across the broad waters of the River Adur from the deserted solar, lost in thought. Below, her husband was with the king and the other guests, waiting while Mattie and her ladies made last-minute preparations for the ceremony.

Mattie had spent much time with Matilda over the past years, learning at her side the accomplishments of a great lady. She was a quiet, gentle girl who had shown signs of great beauty as, slowly, she began to turn into a mature young woman. Will had often been with them during that time, kept from the manly pursuits for which he longed, and from his father's side, by the debilitating cough and weakness that still plagued him constantly, and Mattie had grown to regard him with an almost blind adoration which half embarrassed, half pleased him. Matilda was overjoyed to see them marry, but the arrangement hadn't been without its problems. She thought suddenly of the scene when Reginald had first heard the news. "But I thought I was the one she would marry! You've always spoken of me being the one, Mother, " he had appealed to her wildly. "I know her and I know her father from when I was serving with them.

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