See Part One (A) For Disclaimers

"This man is becoming very tiresome," Winston Rayne observed, shaking his head as he watched Andy Ramirez struggle with his grief and resentment.  He glanced over quickly, and saw his companion trying not to laugh.  Winston demanded, sounding as arrogant as he had in life, "What, my dear, is so funny.  .  .or should I ask?" He winced.  Keep it up, Rayne, he thought, and Andrew won't be the only one in trouble!

"You are, Winston.  You're funny.  In fact, it's all I can do to keep from laughing hysterically, because that young man is just like you!" Deirdre Barton answered with an impish grin.  She shook the silky black ropes of her hair back from her face, then continued, "Besides.  I would give anything for your son to see you now."  Her mischievous grin was threatening to give way to laughter any moment.

"Now you're being insulting, Deirdre, and there's absolutely not need for it.  I am nothing like that tiresome boy, and I never will be," Winston sniffed.  That sent his companion into fresh spasms of laughter, and Winston just glared at her in annoyance.  There were times when he found himself reconsidering his decision to stay in this plane of existence.  Deirdre Barton could drive him completely around the bend.

Then he looked at his companion, who had given up her life for her child, and he knew he could be nowhere else.  For if Deirdre Barton truly hadn't done enough to protect her children, where did that leave him?  Winston didn't like the possible answer to that question.  He looked into Hell, where Jonathan Boyle remained.  No.  .  .he didn't like it at all.

*    *    *

Okay.  It was time, and long past time, for him to get this over and done with.  He was tired of waiting . . . it was time to take the bull by the horns, and just deal with it.  However . . . Nathaniel Hughes had one minor problem.  When it came to a confrontation with his goddaughter, he was a coward of the first order.  What was more, he openly admitted that he was a coward.  He was a coward, but an honest coward.

At first, he had been relieved that the inevitable had been postponed.  It gave him time to rationalize his actions, gave him time to prepare a defense for the offensive which his goddaughter would launch.  Which he knew she would launch.  He had helped to raise the girl, had (as Douglas once phrased it) helped to 'install' the buttons.  He was just as much her parent as Douglas and Deirdre had been.

He knew that when he pushed a particular button of Valerie's, there would be consequences.  Like in a situation like this.  Valerie didn't believe in manipulation, in treating people like chess pieces.  It was one trait which often set her at odds with the Legacy hierarchy, no matter who the Ruling precept was.  Neither did Nathaniel.  Most of the time.  But this time, he was right.  The problem was convincing Val of that.

She was a stubborn girl, something she had inherited from both her mother and her father.  Especially her mother, Deirdre.  Nathaniel allowed himself a smile, thinking of the beautiful, obstinate woman who had been Deirdre Barton.  It was only common sense to expect stubborn parents to produce stubborn children . . . in this case, three of them.

Then his smile faded, for if Deirdre hadn't died, and died the way she had, then none of this manipulation would have happened.  If Deirdre hadn't died, if the Legacy had punished her murderer, then Douglas would have never spun out of control.  Nathaniel's life would have much different, and he was willing to bet that Valerie's life . . .

Well, she would have still been a precept . . . that had been decided years earlier.  Nathaniel had never entirely forgiven his best friend for allowing the Legacy to test his ten year old daughter the way it had.  He knew the Legacy was big on tests, on finding out what a person could handle.  But ten year old girls were supposed to be protected . . . not tested.

As far as Nathaniel (and Deirdre) had been concerned, the Legacy had no business testing the little girl.  For anything, for any reason whatsoever.  She was a child, there was time for that.  And it was one of the few times when Douglas refused to stand up to the precept of the Ruling House . . .  again, Edmund Tremain.  The English peer had wanted to know what Valerie could do . . . this daughter of a mage and a witch.  Oh, he hated Deirdre for her beliefs, but he was willing to exploit any Gifts which she might have passed to her daughter.  For the good of the Legacy, Nathaniel sneered mentally,  well fuck the Legacy!

Douglas was to later admit to Nathaniel that incident had very nearly destroyed his marriage to Deirdre, because the test had nearly killed Valerie.  And while the girl's memory of that awful night had been mercifully wiped clear, Nathaniel and Deirdre hadn't forgotten.  Or forgiven.  Which made Tremain's inaction after Deirdre's death all the more intolerable.

On the day Douglas Barton had disappeared, fourteen years earlier, Nathaniel Hughes had sworn an oath to himself.  Three times, the Legacy had failed the Barton girls.  He would see to it that it wouldn't fail them again.  And for the last fourteen years, he had been able to keep that promise, without dragging anyone else into it.  Until now.

*    *    *

The rest of the day passed in relative peace.  Relative to the House, that is.  Renee and Philip did some research for another few hours after getting something to eat, then Renee took the newest addition to Baltimore House on a tour.  Philip learned a great deal about his new surroundings in that time period.

Except for the study, where they held their meetings, the rest of the House was decorated rather sparsely.  In the library, there were bean bag chairs as well as regular chairs.  Philip looked at Renee in surprise.  Bean bag chairs?  In a Legacy House?  Renee explained with a shrug, "They're softer.  If a ghost happens to show up, there is something soft for us to land on.  And if the ghost starts throwing things around . . . "

"The bean bag chairs are soft enough to do a minimum amount of damage," Philip concluded, and Renee nodded with a grin.  Still, it took a little getting used to.  Legacy Houses with bean bag chairs.  It was eminently practical, since, as Renee had pointed out, they WERE soft.  And they were comfortable.

Something which Renee observed, "Val decided that we would get more accomplished if we were comfortable.  She does things like that, things that would never occur to other precepts.  The Legacy has a tendency to take itself so seriously . . . very pompous.  And yeah, Val takes her work seriously, but Jasmine doesn't let her take herself seriously."

She paused, then continued, "Val's grandfather was a member of the Legacy, but he was also an architect.  He designed this House after visiting North Carolina.  There's very famous castle/manor down there, I don't know if you've ever heard of it, but Val's grandfather visited this manor.  Biltmore Estates.  Anyhow, the story goes that he took one look at it, and wrote in his Legacy journal that it looked like a Legacy House.  He built his own version, here in Baltimore."

Renee took a deep breath, then continued, "There are thirty-one rooms in the House, including six bathrooms.  The library takes up two whole floors, as you can see here.  Originally, the conference room was part of the library, as I understand was the case in San Francisco, but Val changed things around when she got here.  She moved the conference room into the study, leaving more space from the library."

Philip looked around.  It really didn't look like a Legacy House, here in the library.  It looked more like a book store.  The only thing missing was a coffee shop.  And maybe a record store, such as the kinds which he found in the larger chains.  Renee observed, perhaps reading his mind, "Val and Andy installed a stereo system when he joined the Legacy.  He said that he works better with music.  We all do.  So, a stereo system was installed, state of the art, of course."

"Of course," Philip said dryly, and Kri . . . no.  No, her name was Renee.  Renee grinned at him.  God help him, she even smiled like Kristen.  He looked away, and said, "So, Valerie avoided the more expensive furniture.  Do you have a lot of poltergeist activity inside the House?  We did in San Francisco."

"It's been known to happen.  Sometimes, if we're working on a case, a ghost will follow us home.  We don't have many situations like Princess Senephra, but Val hasn't had time to make enemies the way Derek Rayne has.  She's pretty quiet in the Legacy, among the other precepts.  Just does her thing here, and she's left alone.  While Sloan was in charge, he spent more time driving Derek Rayne crazy . . . he left Val alone.  Wish I could say the same for Tremain," Renee observed.

"Edmund Tremain?  Former precept of London House?" Philip asked, remembering his encounter with Derek's tribunal four years earlier.  Renee bobbed her head, and Philip continued, "I take it that he and Valerie don't get along particularly well."  Renee rolled her blue eyes, and led him into the next part of the House.

"That's the understatement of the millenium.  Sloan, for all his quirks, wasn't a bad guy.  Tremain . . . Tremain scares the shit out of me, no offense.  He's so damn focused on what's best for the Legacy, he's lost sight of the greater picture.  The Legacy exists to protect.  He believes the Legacy exists to be protected, or some dumb thing.  And he doesn't like Val, because not only is she not a Christian, but she welcomes other pagans into her House," Renee sighed.

Philip listened in silence.  Truly, he hadn't known many pagans.  He didn't feel particularly comfortable, knowing that he would be sharing a house with a Wiccan, but he owed it to Valerie to give them all the benefit of the doubt.  She was willing to give him his freedom, to come and go as he chose, and she only asked that he keep an open mind.  It wasn't a high price to pay.

He asked slowly, "And you, Renee . . . Valerie tells me that you're a Catholic.  How does it make you . . .  How different are pagans from Christians?"  Renee turned to face him, and Philip immediately wished she hadn't.  Dammit, she even had the same gestures and mannerisms which had defined Kristen Adams.

"They aren't.  Actually, and don't tell my priest I said this," Renee said, her eyes sparkling with laughter, "but most of the pagans I know are better Christians than the ones who claim the title.  I know there are still good Christians, who truly believe in love and forgiveness, not in hate, but sometimes it seems like you only hear about the bad ones."

Philip nodded sadly, and Renee continued, "The same is true of the Legacy.  Here in Baltimore, we hear more about the bad members, such as Jonathan Boyle or Winston Rayne, than we do about the good.   Sure, we hear about Derek Rayne, but he's a bit on the flamboyant side.  Not that it's a bad thing, but he's not the kind of Legacy member which holds the Legacy together."

"You dislike Derek as well," Philip stated.  Renee shrugged and led him out of the library.  The priest still couldn't get over what he had seen.  Bean bags.  In the library of a Legacy House.  In spite of his best efforts, he found himself smiling.  He knew Edmund Tremain, and he was sure he knew what the man would say about that!

"I don't know the man.  I just know that I don't like the way he's hurt the people I care for most.  There was nothing he could have done to save Jan, when Lorraine Compton summoned Rachel Corrigan to the boarding school.  But Heather is another story, as is Deirdre Barton.  I don't care if Heather was a witch.  She didn't deserve to die, without being given a chance to speak in her defense," Renee answered.

Philip could hardly argue with that, but he felt honor bound to defend Derek.  He said, "Derek doesn't remember any of that."

Renee smiled gently and answered, "I know that.  Which is why Val feels torn.  She can't forgive him, for not taking action when her mother was murdered.  And yet, she finds it difficult to hold a grudge, when he doesn't remember what happened."  Philip nodded.  He could understand that.  He could understand that very well.

He was silent for several moments, as he thought about what had been said earlier, then asked, "Renee, perhaps you wouldn't mind answerin' a question for me?"  She raised an eyebrow, and Philip continued, "Andy said somethin' about ‘cowin' a little girl' durin' the argument earlier.  What was that all about?"

"Another time, Philip.  Right now, we need to go over some things downstairs," Valerie said from behind them.  Philip turned, and Renee looked around him with interest.  The young precept smiled wearily, and added, "Nothing to be alarmed about, just orientation.  I don't know how they did it in other Houses, but we have a meeting when we get a new member.  Rules of the House, so to speak."

"It's really no more than what you've already learned, Philip, but it's something we do to keep the peace in the House.  Speaking of which, Val, where is Andy?" Renee asked and Valerie just shook her head.  Renee sighed, observing, "Well, then, I suppose we should go.  I take it that Bishop Hughes will be joining us?"

"Of course . . . my godfather won't get off that easily," Valerie answered dryly.  Philip winced, suddenly very glad that he wasn't the bishop.  He didn't know Valerie that well, but it occurred to him that he really didn't want to get on her bad side.  And that it would behoove him to find out what angered her, so he would know not to do it.

"Right . . . onward and upward, then," Renee said, looping her hand through the crook of Philip's elbow.  He blushed, but followed the two women from the library.  This . . . would be interesting.

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