Forgotten Time (Ravenhurst Series, #1) A New Adult Time Travel Romance (7 page)

“I do wonder what she was running from,” Milford added, looking perplexed. He cast his eyes warily towards the end of the hall.

“Bloody hell, Milford, how do I know? Maybe she had a bad dream.”

“Yes, probably a really
bad
dream,” Milford agreed readily.

Sebastian looked at Milford. He could swear his face turned paler. “Help me get her back into bed.”

Milford stared down the hall for a moment longer.

“Milford.”

“Right, sorry,” he said, as he took her legs in his hands.

Sebastian lifted her up under her arms and they both put her back into bed. “Have you called the doctor?”

“Yes, Dr. Dandridge will be here shortly, after he attends to another patient.”

Sebastian rolled his eyes. Dr. Dandridge was Annabelle’s husband.
Perfect
. That was all he needed.

Visions of his last encounter with Annabelle came into his mind; her lips were not nearly as full and lovely as Marguerite’s…

Sebastian’s fantasy was short-lived. He sensed a presence hovering in the doorway. Turning, he faced Milford, who had a resolute expression on his face. “Good Lord, man, what is it?” Sebastian asked more brusquely than necessary. He felt like a reprimanded child, who was caught, preparing to take a forbidden piece of candy.

Milford cleared his throat and tugged at his waistcoat to straighten his already immaculate appearance. “The doctor has arrived.”

Sebastian rose, keeping his eyes on Marguerite, and said over his shoulder. “Send him up.”

“Certainly, I will return in just a moment,” Milford
replied.

Sebastian gave Milford a sidelong glance as he departed, aware of the underlying warning in his tone. He stared down at Marguerite once more. She seemed so changed since the last time he saw her. Or, was it rather he who had changed in her absence?

“Good evening, my lord,” Dr. Dandridge said coolly. He inclined his head politely towards the Earl of Ravenhurst upon entering the room.

“Good evening, Doctor. I will leave you to your examination, but please attend to her well; she is my betrothed.”

Dr. Dandridge’s eyes widened at that statement. “Of course, my lord,” he huffed excitedly, rubbing the circulation into his thick hands before examining the patient. “I will do everything in my power to ensure she weds you very soon, yes, very soon indeed.”

“Thank you.” Sebastian wondered about the good doctor’s sudden enthusiasm. The doctor acted as though he knew about Sebastian’s intimate relations with his wife, and was more than happy to hear that he, Sebastian, would soon be occupied elsewhere.

Sebastian would have to agree since Annabelle had been even more eager and demanding in bed than usual. Looking at the good doctor now, he could see why.

… The last time he was with Annabelle

She removed her gown as soon as he entered the room. It pooled to the ground. She stepped out of it, leaving only her stockings and slippers on. Her wild red hair
was still swept up in a messy coiffure, her blue eyes, smudged with makeup. She stared at him hungrily, “Take off your clothes now,” she demanded in a throaty voice as she lifted her leg onto a chair and adjusted her stocking. She turned slightly, and with a wicked little smile, ran her hands up her body, then cupped her breast, toying with her taut nipple.

Normally, her little display would have evoked an immediate response in Sebastian. At the very least, he would have found it amusing, but not this time.

“What is taking you so long?” she purred sweetly.

He didn’t move.

“I told you to take off your clothes,” she pouted angrily. Dropping her leg, she walked over towards where he was standing. “I am getting cold.” She shivered for effect, crooning sweetly, trying to coat her earlier outburst with sugar. She ran her hands over his breeches, working the fastenings quickly.

He was unresponsive.
 “Annabelle, perhaps this is not such a good idea after all,” he said, trying to still her hands.

“Oh, don’t be silly. It is cold in here. I will warm you up in no time,” she said anxiously, rubbing her hand over him faster and faster.

Sebastian noticed the tone in her voice, the worry, the trepidation. He had to admit he felt a little bad, but after Marguerite left him, something changed. He changed, he supposed.

Annabelle was not easily deterred. She pulled his breeches fully down, not even bothering to remove his boots, while pushing him backward into a chair. She smiled up at him coyly and knelt down in front of him, rubbing her hands up the length of him. Her hair came undone and tumbled over his thighs, tickling them lightly. She took him into her mouth, her head moving up and down.

After some time, and little by little, she coaxed him to life with her tireless ministrations.

Annabelle climbed on top, straddling him, leaning forward, licking his neck and ear. She grabbed his hand, trying to get him to touch her in her most intimate of places.

It didn’t work. He kept slipping out. She angrily let go of his hand. She was writhing with need. After using her hand to guide him back and forth, he still could not become fully aroused. She was begging now. “Please, Sebastian,” she moaned, kissing his chest and neck, sliding her hand over the slippery wetness of him, moving faster and faster.

Sebastian stilled her hand; she was rubbing him raw. “Annabelle? Sorry, love, but this is not working.”

She ignored him and stood up, leaning over him, making her breasts rub against his chest, and began kissing his stomach again.

He stilled her once more, lifting her chin so she would look up at him. “Sorry, sweet. I just do not see this happening today.”

“Nonsense, Sebastian, try to clear your mind, I know I can make it work,” she begged.

She walked over to the bed, and lay down on her back, opening her legs slightly.

Sebastian watched as she began to toy with herself again. He felt nothing. He had no inclination whatsoever to take her up on the invitation she was so blatantly offering him. He pulled back on his breeches.

“You’re leaving?” she asked, dismayed. The anger flashed in her eyes once more. This time, she made no attempt to mask her voice in sugary sweetness.

“Yes, Annabelle, I believe I am,” Sebastian said without hesitation, surprised by his own candor.

“Well, take a good long look because, if you leave now, this is the last time you will see me. Do you understand?” she warned vehemently, fuming.

Sebastian pulled his waistcoat on, looking at her face twisted with bitter rage. And still he felt nothing. It was funny; shouldn’t her remark evoke some feeling from inside? But there was nothing, no sadness, anger, or remorse.

“Goodbye, Annabelle,” he said simply, listening to her screams at his back as he walked out the door.

His mind came back to the present. He looked over at Marguerite lying on the bed. How sweet and innocent she appeared. Yes, he believed the good doctor was right; he may have someone else to occupy his time after all.

Dr. Dandridge hoisted his heavy form into the waiting carriage after examining his patient.

Sebastian watched from the window as the footman closed the door and the carriage pulled away. The prognosis was clear; Marguerite had a mild concussion. She should be right as rain in no time at all.

Dr. Dandridge saw no reason why Sebastian could not wed her within the week. And if the doctor had an ulterior motive, he did not outwardly show it to Sebastian. He wondered if the doctor would pass this news onto his wife. Knowing Annabelle, she would be livid. Oh well, such was life. Sebastian really did not care.

He strode towards the library, heading for a drink of his finest. He pulled up short in his progression when he saw he was not alone in this venture.

“There you are, de Winter. I wondered where you had gotten to,” Devlin said, turning fully around. He was holding an overfilled crystal snifter of brandy.

Sebastian had to quell his irritation as he watched Devlin Renquist, the new Lord of Hawthorne, his Aunt Isabelle’s rakehell of a husband, sip his finest in his stead. The aged liquid sloshed over the side, spilling onto the carpet.

“Sorry, de Winter,” Devlin said absently, taking another drink. “This is good stuff,” he commented, lifting the glass, and spilling more of it onto the carpet in the process.

Sebastian took a breath, ignoring the mess. “So, Renquist, to what do I owe this unexpected visit?” He really did not care for the man at all; however, he was supportive and tried to find Marguerite when she disappeared, so Sebastian supposed he could afford him some kind of allowance. “What finds you out and about at this hour?” Sebastian asked offhandedly.

Devlin pushed away from the mantel to pour Sebastian a drink. “Good evening to you as well. I was out for my evening ride and decided to take a moment to check on you. See how you are faring in these difficult times and all that.”

“How considerate of you, but surely you did not ride all this way, in this harsh weather, to check on me?” Sebastian replied doubtfully. Hawthorne Manor bordered his property, but it was at least a good hour’s ride away.

“Oh, you do read me so well. I hate to admit, but with your Aunt Isabelle and my sister Judith both in attendance, the walls of Hawthorne have a way of closing in on a man.”

Sebastian accepted the drink Devlin poured and took a small sip. He shook his head in acknowledgement. “Yes, although I do love my aunt dearly, well, let’s just say better you than me.”

Devlin chuckled, shaking his head in agreement. He took a sip of his own and bowed his head. “Touché. Really, old boy, how are you faring? It has been quite some time since
her
disappearance.”

“How am I faring?” Sebastian took another drink and set it on the mantel. “Funny you should ask.” He paused before looking over his shoulder at Devlin. “It seems my elusive bride has returned to me.”