Rachel Carrington (17 page)
Authors: Choices
Rubbery legs forced her to sit down on the claw-footed stool. She dropped the book to her feet and lowered her head to her hands. “It is not possible that I have fallen in love with a nineteenth-century man with more pride than common sense. He is egotistical, demanding, and stubborn and he believes that only his world is the best world. He doesn’t have a clue what my world is like and he is so shortsighted that he has no interest in learning about my world. How could I possibly be in love with him? He knows how I got here, doesn’t he? He really is the one who brought me here? I’ve been asking him all along and he knows, but he won’t tell me. Damn.” She leaned over and picked up the volume once more. “I sure wish I could talk to you, Sara.” The winds grew calmer, leaving only a slight breeze to ruffle the heavy draperies. “Do you know why I’m here?” The breeze increased.
Carla leaped to her feet, excited. “You do, don’t you?” More wind. Carla clasped the book against her breasts. “Did Sinclair bring me here?” The wind died to an almost negligible rustle. “Did you bring me here?” Nothing. How far off track could she be? She sat back down, placing her hands palms down against the aged paper. “Did Sinclair have a part in bringing me here even if he wasn’t solely at fault?” A gust of wind smacked her, almost rocking her off the stool. “Okay. I guess I got that one right. He knows more than he’s letting on, isn’t he? I know you have this sense of loyalty when it comes to him, but I need to know this, Sara.”
The breeze lifted her hair, stirring it away from her face. Carla sighed. “I knew it. Does he know how I can get home?” Silence and stillness was her only answer. “Do you know how?” The air around her began to stir once more, scooting the settee and the small table at its side. “But you don’t have a voice.”
Carla’s shoulders slumped. “I’ll leave your book here. I don’t want to take something that doesn’t belong to me.”
* * * * *
Sinclair hunched his shoulders and kept his gaze directed straight ahead. “Where in the hell have you been?”
“I had something to do in town.”
“You’ve been gone for weeks.”
“It was a long errand,” came the grinning reply. Slapping his cousin on the back, Alexander attempted to cheer him up. “If it makes you feel any better, she wasn’t married. Of course, she was a little too young for my tastes, but can I help it if ladies of all ages are attracted to me?”
“Alexander, leave me be. I wish to be alone.” The harsh command corralled Alexander’s immediate attention.
“What has you in such a mood? It could not be your lovely little visitor, could it? And speaking of visitor, you have not told me what Miss Morgan is doing residing in your castle.”
“Perhaps because it is none of your business.”
Alexander didn’t take offense. “Perhaps. Maybe I should go ask her myself.”
Sinclair didn’t respond, knowing his cousin was trying to goad a response from him. Instead, he lapsed into a silence that didn’t invite further conversation. He wasn’t surprised when Alexander, not getting the attention to which he was accustomed, walked away, leaving him to stew in his thoughts and treacherous memories.
* * * * *
“May I come in, Miss Morgan?” Alexander, his hair ruffled from the wind and wearing an infectious smile, greeted her from the doorway to her bedroom.
Although a man in her bedroom didn’t particularly offend Carla’s sensibilities, she was sure that it would not be looked upon as something well-bred ladies would do in this time. She frowned. “I don’t think that would be wise. I do not think His Grace would approve.”
“But it does not bother you. Am I right?” He strolled across the threshold and made himself at home atop her bed. Lounging back against the stack of pillows, his hands behind his head, he flashed her another grin. “You never did tell me where you are from, Miss Morgan.”
“You never asked.”
“I am asking now.”
“Why?” Carla glanced toward the door, hoping for an interruption.
“Because my cousin is just as closemouthed about your home as you are. Perhaps there is something that you are trying to hide?”
“Perhaps.” Carla seized on the possibility.
“You do not look like a thief.”
Carla laughed slightly. “Thank you. That is especially helpful considering that I am not a thief.”
Alexander slid his long length off the bed. With a gleam in his eyes, he approached her, his steps slow and sure. He walked with the stealthy grace of a tiger and with just as much danger. “I sense something different about you, Miss Morgan, something that you do not want me to know. Maybe I am wrong, but somehow, I do not think so.” He reached her side and now stood, with his hands behind his back, studying her. “You are a very beautiful woman.”
Carla took a backward step and her spine connected with the armoire. “Thank you. Would you please back up? I am feeling a little boxed in here.”
“You have a strange way of talking.”
“I’m sure your cousin has told you that I am not from here. I am from the Americas.”
“Yes, he mentioned that, I believe. But what he did not mention was where in the Americas.”
“That is probably because I have never told him. He never asked.”
“Why are you here?” Alexander removed one hand from behind his back and that same hand found a tendril of Carla’s hair. He twisted the lock around his fingers, sliding the silky strand across his knuckles.
“I am a friend of Sinclair’s wife.” Carla thought fast on her feet, it was what stockbrokers did. And she’d always been good at her job.
“Oh, really? Sara was not from the Americas.”
“I have been here before. Sara and I were childhood friends.”
Alexander’s eyes took on a strange gleam. “Really? I happen to know that Sara was a very lonely child.
Her parents had no other children and she never mentioned you. Why would that be?”
Carla tried to tug her hair out of his grasp. “Mr…I don’t know your last name, but you are being bolder than you should be with me. I think your cousin would see this as very inappropriate behavior.”
Alexander only grinned. “You are scared of me or scared of how I make you feel? Surely you have not spent so much time in my cousin’s castle without discovering why every lady in the township mourned when he took Sara as his wife. Do not tell me he has not touched you, Miss Morgan, because I would find it very hard to believe. No matter how much guilt Sinclair carries around on his shoulders, he is still but a man and no man in his right mind would deny himself the luxury of touching you, holding you—” he drew her into the circle of his arms, “—of kissing you.” He dipped his head, but Carla pressed her hand against his lips and pushed him away.
“I think you’ve been helping yourself to far too many bottles of your cousin’s wine. Now, let go of me. I don’t think Sinclair would appreciate your familiarity with me. I know that I certainly don’t.”
Alexander only laughed and nuzzled her neck. “I fear that I cannot keep myself from tasting you, Miss Morgan, from learning your secrets and showing you some of mine. If I can do so, I will gladly face my cousin’s wrath.” As she squirmed within the circle of his arms, he allowed himself the luxury of kissing her ears, her cheeks. He directed his attention back to her full lips when a steely set of hands settled on his shoulders and he found himself airborne. Landing with a dull thud against the far wall, Alexander groaned and struggled to stand.
Sinclair arced a look toward Carla, extending his hand. “Are you all right? Did he hurt you?” His jaw set in a tight line, his eyes glittered with fury. His gaze scanned the length of her body, apparently searching for any outward signs of injury.
Carla slipped her hand into his. “No. He just tried to kiss me. He didn’t mean any harm. He’s just curious because he doesn’t know anything about me.”
“He chose the wrong way to learn about you, Carla.” Sinclair wouldn’t listen. Dropping her hand, he focused his blistering gaze on his cousin. “You have made a mockery of our family ties for the last time. I want you out of my house. You are not welcome here ever again. I do not want to see your face in town or anywhere near Heath Township. If you are seen here again, you will be treated as a common criminal.
Do not test my words, Alexander, you will regret doing so.”
“Sinclair, no,” Carla quickly intervened. “He shouldn’t be banished from your life because of a mistake.”
“You might as well save your breath, Miss Morgan. Once my cousin makes up his mind about something, there is little hope in changing it. I will pack my things and be gone before night falls.”
Alexander offered from his position on the floor.
Sinclair held up one hand. “This does not concern you, Carla.”
“Doesn’t concern me? I thought I was the one he made the pass at. Maybe I was mistaken.” Sarcasm coated the words and Carla watched the light of battle darken in Sinclair’s eyes. “I won’t let you shut your cousin out of your life because he made a pass at me. He made a pass, Sinclair. He didn’t commit murder.”
Using the wall as a prop, Alexander got to his feet, rubbing a rapidly forming bump on the back of his head. “You could give a man some warning, Cousin. That was quite a toss. I believe I will have quite a knot in the morning.” In spite of his jovial mood, his voice was laced with a pain not caused by the lump on his head.
Sinclair wasn’t in the mood to joke. “You will pack and be out of my house immediately, long before nightfall.” He had taken two steps toward the door when Carla’s cold words stopped him.
“He hasn’t done anything so terrible, Sinclair. Nothing that you haven’t done.”
Sinclair spun around. “What are you talking about?”
“If Alexander touches me, it is wrong. Why isn’t it wrong if you touch me?”
“Alexander, leave us.” Sinclair’s shoulders vibrated with fury.
Alexander didn’t have to be told twice. “I’ll be in the guest quarters once the storm subsides in here.”
“How dare you upbraid me in the presence of my cousin!” Sinclair’s voice whipped like a lash and his eyes rooted her to the spot. “I am not one of your gentlemen in your world that you can lead around by his nose. Here, at Heath Castle, and in this town, my word is law. No one, not even you, can question me.”
“I just did and I don’t want to hear about it being a punishable offence. I know all about the laws of this land, but right now, we have something more important to discuss.” Carla responded with her own anger growing. “You haven’t answered my question. Why is it so different when you touch me?”
“Did you want Alexander to touch you?”
Blood crawled up the base of her spine, warming her cheeks. “No.”
“But you have never denied my touch.” The words were frosty. “There is your difference, Miss Morgan.
You want me to touch you almost as much as I want to touch you. However, if you find that you suddenly desire my cousin more, you have only to say. I will not stand in your way.”
Carla jammed her hands on her hips. “How do you live with such a pompous attitude? One would think you would tire of toting all of that dignity around.”
A muscle twitched in Sinclair’s jaw and his eyes continued to glitter. “Do you want Alexander?”
“Oh, for Pete’s sake! What I want is the truth! Can you give that to me?”
“I have never lied to you and you have never told me who this Pete is.”
Carla ignored the second half of his statement. “You told me that you didn’t have anything to do with my arrival here.”
“I told you that I would not help you find your way home. When you asked how you got here, I did not respond.”
“So you know how I got here?”
“The fates brought you.”
“The fates didn’t do it on their own, did they? You helped them. You brought me here, didn’t you?”
“The soothsayer told me that you would come to my world. It was not a decision that I made. I only brought you the quickest route possible,” Sinclair admitted, his arms folded across his chest.
“How? How did you bring me? Please, I need to know.”
“It was through the book. Letta informed me of what I must do to hasten your journey, but you would have arrived eventually anyway. Your heart had already made that decision.”
Carla’s brow furrowed. “What are you talking about? I never wished to be in a world almost two hundred years after my own time!”
“You wished to be in another world, to escape the one you were in.” The soft reminder took the wind out of Carla’s sails.
The memory came crashing back to the fore. The night Jenny had arrived at her penthouse, Carla had wished for an escape route, a different world where she could run away and hide from the present. Oh, God, she’d gotten her wish and now she didn’t know what to do with it. “My wish came true.” The whispered words were torture to her own ears.
“Yes, it did.” He hadn’t moved, but the words reached out to her, drawing her close to him. Even without a touch, he gave of himself, offering solace.
Her eyes filled with tears. “What have I done? How could I wish for something that would affect so many lives? I was only thinking about myself. What have I done?” One lone drop of moisture escaped her eye and slid down her cheek. “Sinclair, how do I make things right?” She walked toward him, needing his strength, his comfort.
His arms opened and he took her in the haven, sheltering her against his chest. “How do you know that things are wrong?”
“I have hurt my family. I have lost someone and I don’t even know who it is. My sister is probably devastated. I have reminded you of the bad memories, caused another rift between you and your cousin, and I had a conversation with your wife.” Her head pillowed against his shoulder, Carla gave vent to the tears, allowing them to soak the material of his waistcoat.
Sinclair’s hands stroked her hair, her shoulders, before sliding down to her spine. “You talked to my wife? That is not possible.”
