Shades of the Past (25 page)

Yes, so much, but I daren’t.
She forced a smile. “Nothing at all. I’ll convince him; I’m an actress, remember?”

“So you are,” he murmured, pulling her close.

But as their lips met again, a secret needle of fear pricked her. She was keeping the future from him. Tomorrow wasn’t going to go the way it was planned, but there was nothing she could do about it. All she could pray was that cruel, blackmailing Sir Miles Lowestoft would be the one to die, because he didn’t deserve any other fate!

The next morning she set off a little early on horseback to meet Miles, and to keep herself as calm as possible she rode the long way, through the village. The weather was fine and clear. Deveril House was already deserted because the fair had been in full swing since dawn, and the servants were making good use of every minute of their time off. Hurdy-gurdies, drums, shouts, and squeals of excitement were audible long before she reached the green, where she found so many people she thought the whole county must have come to enjoy the fun.

Ha’penny Jack seemed to be doing particularly well, for there was a long queue waiting to view his little theater, but his scowl didn’t reflect the briskness of trade; he was in a black mood because he knew he’d lost Dolly to Harcourt.

The church clock struck the three-quarter hour, and Laura rode determinedly—but steadily—down the steepness of Barge Lane to the rendezvous with Miles. She had to have faith that before this day was over, justice would be well and truly done and the right man would have suffered.

She reached the track into the valley woods, and soon found that Blair had been right about the number of people using it to get to the fair. She rode past many groups of villagers, some on foot, some in carts, and even one or two modest private carriages, although not, she was relieved to note, the expensive vehicle that belonged to Lady Lowestoft.

The breeze rustled through the branches of the blasted oak tree as she reined in to wait, but almost immediately she saw Miles riding toward her, his peacock coat standing out even against the vivid greens and blues of the May woodland.

He didn’t waste time in idle pleasantry. “You have the necklace?”

“No.”

His amber eyes flickered. “Then why have you come?”

“Because I know where it is, but can’t get to it.” She held up the key to the safe.

He took it, and then searched her eyes. “If you have the key, why can’t you open the safe?” he asked softly.

“It’s stuck fast, and needs a man’s strength.”

“You have Stephen.”

“I don’t. He’s been injured, didn’t you know? I—I thought you’d have heard about the roof fall in the canal tunnel.”

Miles flicked his horse’s mane with a gloved hand. “Yes, but I didn’t know he was involved.”

“He’s been bedridden since.”

“Poor fellow,” Miles murmured insincerely.

“But he will get better.”

“Oh, good, I’m so glad,” was the acid response.

Laura hid her loathing. “Well, he’s too weak and unwell to leave his bed, which means he can’t open the safe, but you can.”

“Go to Deveril House? Are you mad?” he replied incredulously.

“You don’t understand. Soon Stephen and I will be the only ones there this afternoon. Everyone else, including Sir Blair and Miss Deveril, will be at the fair.”

He didn’t reply, for more villagers passed by. Laura found her glance moving unwillingly toward the bushes from where she knew Estelle had come when the painting came to life. For a moment there seemed to be the flutter of a black veil, but then it had gone. She’d imagined it.

“What is it?” Miles demanded, seeing the start she gave.

“I—I thought I saw someone over there by those bushes. A woman in black. Your wife,” she added, remembering the unpleasant confrontation she’d witnessed when the watercolor came to life.

The villagers were still passing as his eyes flew in the direction she looked, but there was nothing to see, and after a moment he turned back to her. “You imagined it, madam, because I promise you my wife will not approach you again; indeed, she is at this moment on her way back to Scotland.” He waited until the villagers were out of earshot, then spoke again. “Are you sure we’ll be alone at Deveril House this afternoon?”

He was taking the bait! “Yes. The servants have been at the fair since it started at dawn, and the Deverils will leave at about three. I am supposed to go with them, but will plead a headache at the last moment and stay behind to show you the safe. Unless, of course, you’d prefer to wait until Stephen has recovered?”

“I want the necklace as quickly as possible.”

“Then today is the best opportunity. “

He thought for a moment, and then nodded. “Very well, I’ll come to the house. What time do you suggest?”

“Everyone will definitely have gone by four.”

He leaned across suddenly to clamp steely fingers over her wrist. “You’d better be genuine in this, my dear, because if you aren’t...” He allowed his voice to trail away warningly.

Somehow she managed to meet his eyes. “Why would I lie to you? I wish to get away from this place, so believe me I’m telling the truth. Sir Blair still shows no interest in me, and all I want now is to go home to my family. I—I trust that when you have your necklace, you’ll honor your word? I know I haven’t succeeded with Sir Blair, but it isn’t because I haven’t tried, truly it isn’t.” Again her glance flew toward the bushes. It wasn’t her imagination after all, for although she couldn’t see anything, she could
feel
Estelle’s presence.

“I always honor my word,” he replied softly, releasing her wrist to suddenly put his fingers to her cheek. “You’re so like Celina, so very like her...”

“But I’m not her,” she reminded him a little uneasily.

“True. Nevertheless, you’d make a satisfactory substitute.”

She stiffened. “What do you mean?”

“That once I have the necklace, I’m of a mind to enjoy you a little before letting you go to your family.”

It was all she could do not to show her revulsion.

He took his hand away, “I see no point in prolonging this present meeting. I’ll come to the house at four.”

He urged his horse away, and she exhaled with slow relief. As he disappeared, her gaze returned to the bushes, and on impulse she rode toward them. There was no one there, but she saw a fragment of black gauze caught on a freshly broken twig. She glanced quickly around again, but the undergrowth was so dense Estelle could have been within a few feet of her and yet remain hidden. One thing was certain, Miles was wrong to think his wife was on her way back to Scotland! Shivering a little, she rode quickly away along the track.

She returned by way of the canal. The Bargee’s Arms was quiet, and there wasn’t anyone to be seen on the vessels moored along the canal. The breeze rippled the surface of the water as she followed the towpath, but as she entered the trees near the culvert, the air became perceptibly cooler, and there were fewer leafy shadows across the path.

Suddenly she saw the spruce fir, tall and startling by the cottage ruins. The spruce fir? But it shouldn’t be here yet, it hadn’t been planted! Nor should the rowing boat be lying rotting by the wall, or the cottage itself be ruined! Disbelief stabbed through her. She was in the future again!

The air seemed to spin sickeningly around her, and a frightened sob leapt to her lips as she began to fall from the saddle into an impenetrable darkness. She thought she heard Gulliver’s voice, but then pain swept nauseatingly over her, and she lost consciousness.

Chapter Twenty-one

Laura felt as if she were floating in a warm sea. It was a pleasant feeling, and her thoughts were muddled. Was she in the past, or the future? She was afraid to open her eyes, because she didn’t want to see her hotel room.

She heard the chink of a cup and saucer, a sound as familiar in 1818 as in modern times. Whose cup was it? She had to know. She looked, and could have wept with disappointment when she saw Jenny’s mother by her bed.

Mrs. Fitzgerald gave a relieved smile, and put her cup down. “At last! How are you feeling, my dear?”

“What—what happened?”

“Don’t you remember? Gulliver found you down by the tunnel.”

Laura remembered hearing Gulliver’s voice before she lost consciousness. But what was he doing on the towpath? Had he decided to go to the portal again?

Jenny’s mother continued. “He saw you walk along the path and then slip. You shook yourself up quite badly, so he made you sit quietly while he went back to the Bargee’s Arms for help. Ron Sawyer brought you back here in his car and we sent for the doctor, who wanted you to go to the hospital to be on the safe side, but you got yourself in such a state about it that he decided not to upset you even more. He said that as you hadn’t knocked your head or broken anything, he wouldn’t insist, so he just gave you something to make you sleep, and said he’d pop back this evening.”

“I’m sorry to cause such a fuss.”

“Oh, don’t apologize, my dear.” Mrs. Fitzgerald got up to tidy the bedclothes. “It’s strange how things happen. Gulliver only occasionally feels strong enough to use his walking sticks, and today he felt a sudden urge to leave his wheelchair and walk to the portal again. He’s so worried about you, he followed Ron’s car here in his wheelchair, and has refused to go home until he’s absolutely certain you’re all right.”

“He’s here now?”

“Yes.”

“Can I see him please?”

“Of course. I’ll get him now.” Mrs. Fitzgerald went to the door, then paused to smile back. “Jenny’s going to have two invalids to take care of when she gets here, isn’t she?”

“Two?”

“Well, you’re one as well for the time being.”

Laura returned the smile, but knew quite suddenly that by the time Jenny and Alun returned from Dijon, she’d be in the past forever! Her heartbeats quickened. How did she know? It was like gaining second sight, or looking into a crystal ball. Outwardly there’d still be a Laura Reynolds here in the future, but her twin would be permanently in the England of the past. Facing what, though? A life of happiness with Blair? Or a barren existence mourning his death? She wished she could be as certain of that as she was of being about to leave this modern world forever.

Mrs. Fitzgerald hurried away, and after what seemed an age Gulliver hobbled in on his walking sticks. He made his way clumsily to the bedside chair, and sank down thankfully, propping his sticks. Then he smiled at her. “How are you now, my dear?”

“Frustrated. I’m in the wrong century.”

“I know.”

She held his eyes. “Gulliver, when I go back next, I’ll never return here again,” she said quietly.

He was silent for a moment, and then said, “You seem very sure.”

“I am. Don’t ask me how because I can’t say, but there’s no doubt in my mind. I know it as certainly as I know night will follow day.”

He nodded. “I believe you.”

She looked at him. “Why did you go to the portal again today?” she asked then.

“Because I wondered if anything would happen.”

“If you went back again, you mean?”

“Yes.”

“So you’ve changed your mind, and want to go back again?”

He took a long breath. “I don’t know what I want, Laura. Since my accident I’ve been doing my damnedest to forget it, but you’ve made that impossible. Since we last spoke, I’ve done nothing but examine my feelings toward it all.”

“I guess you’re mad at me for dragging it all up again?”

“Not really.” He smiled.

“I’m glad. Gulliver, I’ve been thinking too. We know going back has something to do with sharing names with ancestors, but it’s like we suddenly became two people at once. Twins if you will, except our consciousness only remains with one.”

He smiled. “We fly in the face of reason,” he murmured.

“Just think, Gulliver, if you went back again now, you’d be able to walk again, and you’d be with Dolly.”

“Yes, but not the Dolly who’s here in the future, just an ancestor,” he reminded her.

“Whoever she is, in your previous life you loved her, and won her from Ha’penny Jack Sawyer.”

He didn’t say anything.

“Maybe you could come with me when I go back,” she said suddenly.

“Maybe, maybe not. We know one person can go, but as to whether two could...” He shrugged.

“Well, you want to, don’t you? You must have already decided that much or you wouldn’t have tried to get to the tunnel,” she said shrewdly.

“I admit it, but the truth has to be faced. What happened twenty years ago may be all I’ll
ever
experience.”

“Or it may not. I kept thinking I’d had my allotted number of adventures, but it always happened again. Now I know I’m going back for good.” She smiled. “It’s written somewhere on tablets of stone.”

“Thou shall return forever to Regency England?”

“Something like that.” She glanced toward the window, and for the first time realized the January afternoon had drawn in. Just how long had she been lying in this darned bed? What had been happening back in 1818 while she slept? She sat up quickly. “What time is it, Gulliver?”

“Twenty to four. Why?”

“Four is when Sir Miles Lowestoft is to come to the house! I need to be back there now!”

“My dear—”

“It’s important I return, I—” Her voice died away as a strange feeling crept slowly over her. Something was about to happen. Instinctively she turned to look at the bedroom wall, and a glad smile leapt to her lips, for the ballroom doors were there.

“Look, Gulliver!” she breathed.

He went a little pale.

She turned shining eyes toward him. “You can see them, so surely that means you can go through them? We can go together, I know we can!” She eased herself from the bed and stood very carefully, because she was still shaken from the fall, then she held her hand out to him. “Come with me, Gulliver, please”

He hesitated. “Laura, what if Blair Deveril is the man I saw dead? What’s there for you then?”

“Five minutes with him is worth a lifetime on my own.”

“You say that with such fervor, but when those five minutes are over…”

“That’s a chance I’m prepared to take.” Still she held out her hand. “Are you coming?”