Rachel Carrington (21 page)

* * * * *

Sinclair awoke alone. The side of the bed where Carla had slept was cold and empty and it took him a matter of seconds to don his clothes. Knowing she wouldn’t have left without saying goodbye, he went in search of her, instincts guiding him toward the library.

Carla sat on the settee, her legs tucked beneath her, the dressing gown covering her knees. Beside her, on the opposite end, Alexander sat, his eyes glittering with excitement as Carla talked to him.

“It’s a different world, Alexander, and you need to listen to everything I’m telling you.” She frowned, her eyes sweeping the room. “You should probably take notes.”

Alexander produced several sheets of paper and a pencil. “I am already prepared. I have been praying for this moment ever since you found your way home, Miss Morgan. Please continue. I promise that I will take meticulous notes.”

Sinclair leaned one shoulder against the doorway, hoping they couldn’t hear the sound of his heart breaking. Carla had made her decision and he was sure that he would die once she left him.

“I’ve already told you that we have electricity and I’ve told you about the cars. You will need an occupation should anyone ask.”

Alexander lifted a hand to silence her. “I have already thought of that. I am an historian.” He flashed a bright grin. “And what better subject to major in but the nineteenth century?”

Carla relaxed against the settee. Maybe she didn’t have anything to worry about at all. “You will not be able to tell anyone the truth. For all intents and purposes, you will be an historian from England visiting Manhattan. Once you have arrived, you will be able to decide if you want to stay.” Carla continued with a laundry list of the changes that Alexander would encounter once he had arrived in the twenty-first century as Sinclair watched his cousin’s face take on a rapturous expression.

He stood there for as long as he could stand it until fear and desperation forced his legs to carry him into the library where two sets of eyes watched his approach.

“You cannot leave, Carla. I cannot let you leave. I know that I told you that the decision was yours and that I would not stand in your way, but I was wrong. I have no choice but to stand in your way. If you can sit there and tell me that you are determined that you should return to Manhattan, I will, of course, be forced to step aside. But, if your heart is telling you to stay and you are only going away because you do not think what we have will last, then, I am begging you to reconsider. Yes, I, the Duke of Heath, am begging you. Please do not walk out of my life for I fear that I could not bear the silence. In just these few short weeks, I have grown accustomed to seeing your face, hearing your voice and now I know that I would not survive without you.”

Dropping to his knees in front of her, Sinclair took Carla’s hands in his. “Stay with me. Marry me. I promise that I will love you for all eternity even beyond the grave. Please say that you will stay. I know that Alexander has his heart set on going into your world, but I cannot let my happiness ride on his. I know that sounds incredibly selfish, but I love you and I cannot lose you now that I have found you.”

“Sinclair,” Carla began, trying to staunch the flow of words, but Sinclair would not be deterred from his course.

“I realize that you are scared, that this is a different life from what you have known, but I will be here with you. I will never leave your side. I will help you to learn our ways and though you may not grow to love them, you will be happy here because I will make sure of it. I will not let you be unhappy. You have said that you love me. I am asking you to give our love a chance.”

“I have not heard that many words from you since you were so angry at me the last time I was here, Cousin,” Alexander put in with a wry grin.

Sinclair shot him a baleful look. “This is between Carla and me. Would you please leave us alone?”

“Actually,” Carla inserted, “he should be here. I am explaining things he needs to know when he goes to my world.”

Sinclair’s brows lowered into a dark scowl. “Then you are determined to leave?”

“No, I am determined that Alexander is going to leave.”

Sinclair’s gaze swung from his cousin’s smug face to Carla’s smiling one. “What are you talking about?”

“I am not returning to the twenty-first century. Alexander is going in my place. He wants to be there. I don’t. I will miss my sister, but Alexander is going to go see her, to let her know that I am alive and well.

She would want me to stay where I am happy even if it means never seeing me again.” Leaning forward, Carla touched her lips to Sinclair’s. “Did you really think that I could leave after last night?”

“Last night?” The words captured Alexander’s interest. “Do tell. Is there something you would like to share with the uninformed cousin, Sinclair?”

“If it was something that you needed to know, you would have already been informed,” Sinclair drawled in return, bringing Carla’s hands to his lips. “Then you really are staying?”

Smiling, Carla nodded slowly. “I really am staying.”

“And you will marry me?”

She bit her lower lip to stop the trembling. “Yes, I will marry you.”

“Would you mind rushing the ceremony? It would appear that I am a bit rushed for time as I have to leave before night falls.” Alexander glanced at the clock over the mantel. “I realize that it is still very early in the morning, but I am eager to be on my way.”

Sinclair pulled Carla to her feet. “You are sure that you want to stay?”

“Are you trying to talk me out of it?” she teased.

He pressed a hard kiss against her lips. “Never. I am trying to convince myself that you really are staying.” Then, with a decisive move, he swept her around and set her back on her feet. “I will send a messenger for the priest. We will be married this afternoon and you, my lady, will be forever bound. Are you ready for that kind of commitment?”

Alexander yawned and launched himself to his feet. “I fear that this conversation is not my cup of tea. I will be off to prepare myself for my journey into the future. My congratulations, Cousin, and Miss Morgan—” he bowed and kissed her hand, “—to you, I offer my heartfelt gratitude. You are changing my life, offering me the opportunity to find the happiness I have never managed to acquire.”

“And what of your family? Are you not going to inform them of your decision?” Sinclair queried in an imperious tone of voice.

Alexander laughed lightly. “I have already prepared a missive which your messenger will forward to them. As far as they are concerned, I am taking a journey that will keep me away for quite some time.

With my other brothers and sisters on hand, they will not mourn my departure. In fact, I think they will be much relieved that I am attempting to find my own life. I have prepared additional letters that will be forwarded to them on an annual basis. It was Miss Morgan’s idea so as not to worry Mother.”

Sinclair looked down into Carla’s upturned face. “You did not have the opportunity to do the same for your family.”

“No, but I am glad that Alexander will see Diane for me. It will make her feel better to know that I am alive, although the soothsayer did say that my family will not know that I existed.”

“Diane will know. Anyone who loves you will know you existed,” Sinclair responded quietly.

“How do you know?”

“How could anyone who has truly loved you forget you, Carla?”

Alexander’s footsteps were muffled on his way out the door. “Please notify me once the priest has arrived,” he called from just down the hall.

Sinclair spun Carla around in his arms, lifting her off her feet. “You have not answered my question.”

“I did not think that it required an answer. If I was not prepared for a commitment, would I be staying, Your Grace?” She smiled impishly, her hands resting on his shoulders as her feet dangled in the air.

Sinclair slid her down the length of his frame. “And you are prepared to be a Duke’s wife?”

“I am prepared to be your wife. The title means little to me. I would love you without it just the same.”

“You truly are a lady of royal blood.” His eyes conveyed a warmth that brought another smile to Carla’s face.

“I am glad that you approve. I would not want to offend your family.”

Sinclair chuckled. “Even if you were to offend my family, I would still marry you. I cannot sleep with my family.”

She elbowed him in the ribs. “I can see that your true nature is emerging.”

He hauled her close to his body. “It was not my nature that you were so interested in last evening, my lady.” Then, he dipped his head and the library was silent except for the gentle stirring of the wind against the draperies.

* * * * *

As the carriage conveyed the priest back to town, Alexander said his final goodbyes. “Again, I cannot thank you enough, Miss Morgan.”

“You can thank me by finding my sister. Please make sure you give her the note.” Impulsively, Carla pressed a kiss against his cheek and stepped back, tucking her hand inside the crook of Sinclair’s arm once more.

Sinclair extended his hand. “I will miss you, Alexander.”

Alexander accepted the handshake but swept a gaze toward his cousin’s new bride. “I fear that you will not. You will have plenty to occupy your time and your thoughts with your wife at your side.”

Sinclair smiled down at his beautiful bride. “I will not forget you.”

“Nor will I you and I wish you the very best of happiness. As for you, my lady, please know that you have given me the world.”

Carla smiled. “I have given you my world.” She handed him the book of poetry. “I am sure you are ready for a nap now, Alexander.”

His grin broadened. “Of that you can be sure. If the two of you will excuse me, I will retire to the library for some much-needed rest.”

* * * * *

“Your Grace! Your Grace!” With her usual flustered nature, Nettie rapped loudly on the bedroom door, calling attention to her presence.

“Egads! It’s four in the morning! The cock hasn’t even crowed yet! What in the hell could that woman want? All I can say is that it had better be a matter of life or death or someone is going to be cleaning out the stables for the next fortnight!” Sinclair rolled to his feet and stuffed his legs into his breeches while Carla brushed the hair away from her face and pushed herself to a sitting position.

The hallway candles offered a minute amount of light as Sinclair opened the door. “What is it, Nettie?”

Nettie flapped her hands like a bird preparing to take flight. “’Tis Miss Sara’s book, Your Grace. Come see for yourself!” Lifting her skirts, she raced back down the hallway, moving at such a fast pace that her bun tipped precariously to one side.

Sinclair slammed the door and turned to face Carla who had already scrambled to her feet and grabbed her dressing gown. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“With you.” Carla moved to the door, but Sinclair stopped her.

“I think I should see whatever’s going on first.”

Carla gave little credence to the suggestion. “Right. Let’s get going.”

Sinclair grumbled something about women needing to learn how to obey and yanked the door open once more.

* * * * *

Nettie was in the library, her hands still dancing in the air. Carla approached her first, settling one hand on the woman’s arm. “Nettie?”

The housekeeper pointed to where the book of poetry lay open on the settee, its pages turning as if a ghost sat reading the poems within. Nettie made the sign of the cross and backed toward the door.

“Your Grace, if you won’t be needing me anymore…”

Sinclair hadn’t taken his eyes off the book. “You may take your leave, Nettie.”

She wasted no time in departing with a flurry of her skirts and the slamming of the library door.

Carla walked closer to the settee and sat down beside the book.

“Carla,” Sinclair exclaimed, hurrying forward, but she held up her hand to stop further approach. “What in the name of all that’s holy are you doing?”

They weren’t alone in the library. Carla felt another presence. “Don’t you feel her, Sinclair?”

His face whitened. “Feel whom?”

“Sara is here.”

With gentle hands, Carla lifted the book of poetry. “I know you’re still here, Sara, but it’s okay now.”

She gave her husband a smile. “She’s come to say goodbye.”

“Holy Hell,” Sinclair muttered, dragging a hand through his thick hair.

Carla held out her hand to welcome him now. “Come sit beside me. You’ll see what I’m talking about.”

His steps reluctant now, Sinclair moved forward, taking his place at Carla’s side. “Sara?” he whispered.

The pages fluttered.

Carla smiled at him. “She’s really here.” Tears began to trickle down Carla’s cheeks and Sinclair reached for her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.

“How do we know she’s really come to say goodbye?” he asked in a hushed voice.

The pages turned faster until Carla placed her hand atop them. “She wanted to make sure you were happy. She wouldn’t leave you alone otherwise.”

Sinclair swallowed hard. “You really believe she’s been here all along?”

“Don’t you?”

His eyes fell to the yellowed pages. “I am happy, Sara.”

“And I’m going to do everything within my power to make sure he stays that way. I’ll take care of him,”

Carla assured the ghost. Her eyes still damp with tears, she rocked back against the cushions. “And no matter what Letta says about the fates bringing me here, deep down inside, I know that it was really you.

But don’t worry. It’ll be our little secret. I know that you were only worried about Sinclair and you couldn’t stand the thought of his being alone. I’m surprised that it took you so long to bring someone here. I mean, three years is quite a while.” Carla held up a hand as the air stirred, fluffing the drapes and pushing her hair away from her shoulders. “I didn’t mean it as a condemnation, Sara. I know it takes time to find the right woman and to be honest, I’m flattered you decided that I was the one.”

Sinclair squeezed her tighter. “I’m not. Sara saw in you what I saw, the beauty, the strength and the ability to adapt to a new world. And she knew I’d fall in love with you.”