Authors: Sharon Cullen
“They didn’t tell you,” he said. It was a statement. Of course he knew his parents never said a word about Zach time-traveling but she answered anyway.
“No. I can’t imagine how hard it was for Emily not to say something but I know she couldn’t. I would have probably wanted to jump through the mirror to go after you.”
“The mirror’s a tricky thing. No one can figure out how it works or how it decides where to send people and once you’ve transported, the mirror disappears so there’s no going back unless you find it again. I’m sorry you had to go through that.” He kissed the top of her head and she covered his hand with hers.
“They still live in the same house,” she said. “I talked to your mom that last day. Basically it was the same conversation we had years ago. She kept telling me to move on and I thought I had.” Her voice trailed away. She never told Morgan about Daniel and felt guilty for it. She kept telling herself she would but didn’t think her wedding night was appropriate. However she didn’t want to keep secrets from him anymore. “I was married.”
There was a long silence. Morgan breathed deeply, evenly.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”
“Juliana, you don’t have to explain yourself. You had a life to live and my mom was right. I wanted you to move on. I just… I guess I tried not to think of you married.”
“It didn’t work out. He said I was still in love with you and he couldn’t compete against a dead guy. He was right, you know. At the time I didn’t believe him but he was right. I was still in love with you. That’s why I went back to see your mom. I wanted to prove Daniel was wrong.”
“And instead you ended up here.”
“And instead I ended up proving him right.”
Morgan shifted. The muscles in his arms tightened.
“Don’t worry,” she said. “I’m not confusing you with Zach. I know the two of you are different. And yet you’re the same whether you want to believe it or not. I fell in love with you, Morgan. What you are and what you’ve been.”
“I know,” he said softly. “It might take me a while to get used to the idea. Tell me about my sister.”
She accepted the change of topic, knowing it was something they would be working on for some time to come. “I don’t know about Molly,” she said sadly. Growing up the three of them had been inseparable but after Zach disappeared Juliana and Molly grew apart. She always regretted their separation and had missed Molly. She hadn’t heard from her in years.
“I’m sure she’s probably married,” Morgan said. “I might be an uncle.”
Sadly they would never find out and Juliana felt a stab of pain at the family they’d both lost.
She lifted his hand and kissed the inside of his wrist. The sun broke through the night and bathed the room in soft lavender. Outside the birds began to chirp and Juliana couldn’t help thinking a new day had dawned as well as a new life.
“I can’t believe I agreed to this.” Morgan frowned into the mirror as he attempted to tie his cravat. He hated these damn clothes and cursed this stupid century that hadn’t yet invented the zipper and simple necktie. If he had a valet it would be much simpler, but he never had a need for one and the twenty-first-century side of him cringed at the thought of someone else dressing him.
He turned to Juliana. She was brushing her hair and he concentrated on her hands. Damn the damn ball anyway. This was his honeymoon, time he needed to spend with his wife because they didn’t have much more time left.
Tonight, after the ball, he would tell her he was leaving first thing in the morning. The thought made his already aching head pound harder. She would be angry as hell and would demand to go with him and he would have to tell her no. She was safer in the Parkers’ home where Barun couldn’t get to her and Morgan would be able to concentrate better knowing she was safe. It would all be worth it in the end, knowing Barun was dead and they didn’t have to worry about him again.
At this point Morgan didn’t care about revenge. He didn’t care about the lance or anything else. He just wanted Juliana safe and he wanted to live his life quietly by her side. He hoped he wasn’t asking too much.
“You look a little pale,” she said.
“Truthfully, I have a headache.” He rubbed his throbbing temples and grimaced. She set her brush down and touched the side of his face. “Thank you for taking me tonight.”
He leaned forward and kissed the tip of her nose. “I’d do anything for you, Juliana.”
She smiled and he turned back to the mirror to avoid looking into her eyes, because in just a few hours she wasn’t going to be smiling. He hoped by then this bloody headache was gone.
He yanked on the ends of his still-untied cravat. “If I had a valet this wouldn’t be a problem,” he growled.
She turned him around and took his cravat in hand. She was beautiful in a dress made of the same green as her eyes. Her cheeks glowed and her smile was radiant. Her hair was swept up off shoulders that still had a touch of sun to them.
While he stood patiently and she tied his cravat, he ran through the security he, Isabelle and Reed worked out. It seemed impenetrable but Morgan knew Barun well. He managed to slip into the last ball Juliana attended and Morgan was well aware no plan was infallible, but he couldn’t find any holes in this one.
“You’re thinking of him, aren’t you?” She patted his tied cravat and stepped back.
Morgan looked in the mirror. “How the hell did you do that?”
She shrugged and pulled her gloves on. “You’re avoiding my question.”
He peered closer at the cravat. Damn but she’d done a good job. Better than any valet he’d seen.
“Morgan.” There was a warning in her tone and he turned away from the mirror with a sigh.
He made a point not to discuss Barun with Juliana because he wanted the wedding and the last few days to be about them. It didn’t mean he hadn’t thought about it or that he hadn’t taken precautions or his men weren’t reporting in frequently. He thought he was doing a good job of keeping it all from Juliana but apparently not.
He waited while Juliana gathered her things and they walked down the stairs and out the door. Once outside, she turned to him. “Don’t let Sanjit Barun ruin this night for us. Promise me.”
He glanced up and down the street, looking for shadows within shadows and the men he’d posted around the house and across the street. “I promise,” he said, hoping like hell he could keep this promise.
Juliana meandered through a deserted hallway in Sylvia’s mansion. Her excitement and anticipation long ago gave way to disappointment. What had possibly possessed her to think this ball was a good idea?
Isabelle said no one in their right mind would turn down an invitation to one of Sylvia’s balls. Of course, it didn’t mean they had to be nice to her, or accept her. It was obvious they didn’t care for her and Morgan or their recent marriage. In fact, most of them, upon being introduced to Juliana, sniffed and turned their nose up at her. She’d endured some form of the cold shoulder all her life, why she thought it would be different now she didn’t know.
Morgan had been right in not wanting to come. And where the hell was Morgan anyway? They’d been separated immediately upon arriving. Sophia had taken Juliana’s arm and tugged her away while Morgan went in search of Patrick. It was funny to see the wizened old man in a room full of formally dressed, uppity, titled people. But Isabelle and Reed insisted Morgan’s crew attend. And that, she’d heard whispered several times, was a disgrace. Except Juliana had the feeling the crew wasn’t here to party, but rather as protection. Beneath the formal clothes they scrounged up they were armed to the teeth and more on edge than she’d ever seen them.
She tugged on her gloves. She would get some air and much-needed peace and quiet, then she’d return to the ball and count down the minutes until she and Morgan could escape.
As she walked past a darkened room in search of a door to lead her outside, a hand came out and grabbed her around the waist. She opened her mouth to scream but another hand covered it. She struggled, her skirts hindering her legs as she tried to kick the person pulling her into the unused room.
Her back was brought up hard against a solid chest. The door closed behind them, cutting off the sound of the party and any chance she had of someone seeing or hearing her. Soft lips pressed against her neck.
“Did you miss me?”
She stopped her struggles and turned around. A decidedly wicked gleam lit her husband’s eyes and decidedly wicked thoughts accompanied that gleam if the bulge pressing against her thigh was any indication.
“You scared me to death.”
“I couldn’t go another moment without touching you. When I saw you leave the ballroom I decided to follow.”
She circled her arms around his neck, wishing they were anywhere but in a house filled with hundreds of people. Sylvia promised to keep it small, but her idea of small and Juliana’s were vastly different.
“Where were you going?” He nibbled on her neck and she bent her head to give him better access.
“Out—outside. For some fresh air.”
He made some sort of sound deep in his throat as his teeth scraped the sensitive skin below her earlobe. She closed her eyes. Oh, Lord, if he didn’t stop soon she would be nothing but a puddle on Sylvia’s carpet.
He pulled away and looked at her mouth before dragging his eyes to hers. “Having fun tonight?” His hands made lazy, slow circles over her back and she shivered.
“No. You were right. These things are boring and I’d much rather be alone with you.”
The wicked gleam turned hot and her body trembled at the promises those chocolate eyes held. He kissed her again.
“Soon,” he murmured between kisses.
“Promise?”
“Oh, yeah. I promise.” He trailed a finger down her throat, across her shoulders, and into the bodice of her gown.
She licked her lips and let her head fall back, enjoying his touch way too much. Damn the roomful of people. This was their party.
“Are they treating you well?” he asked.
Two voices made their way down the hall. Morgan tensed and his head came up. His hands tightened on her waist and Juliana leaned against him. The voices grew louder, then faded as they passed the door and continued on.
Morgan pulled away from her. “Not the smartest thing to do in a house full of people,” he said as he adjusted her bodice. “You didn’t tell me if they’re treating you well.”
“And what are you going to do if they’re not?” she teased. “Beat them up?”
“It wouldn’t be proper to beat up a bunch of tight-assed ladies.” He placed a kiss on her forehead. “I’d beat up their husbands.”
She laughed and hugged him. “Thank you, but that won’t be necessary. I can take care of myself. I’ve been fighting my own battles for a long time now.”
She turned to open the door but he stopped her with a hand on her shoulder. “You don’t have to anymore, Juliana. You have me now.”
“As much as I appreciate it, Morgan, I can still stand on my own two feet.”
He opened his mouth to say more, then closed it.
“What were you and Patrick discussing when we arrived?”
The shutters fell over his eyes. Juliana knew that look well.
“You were talking about Barun, weren’t you?”
“Juliana—”
“I thought we were going to forget about him for tonight.”
“I can’t forget about him, especially tonight.”
“You think he’ll show up here?” While preparing for her wedding, and the blissful days after, she tried to push thoughts of Barun to the back of her mind. He was constantly there, a silent shadow, deadly, hovering. Never going far, always casting a pall over everything she thought, everything she did. But she tried her hardest not to let him intrude on the happiest days of her life.
A shiver of dread raced through her and left in its wake a trail of foreboding. The orchestra struck up a tune, reminding Juliana where they were and why they were here.
“Do you think he’ll be here?”
“Isabelle, Reed and Patrick and I have made this place as impenetrable as we can. I think he would be a fool to come here.”
“You didn’t answer my question. Do you think he will be here?”
He pressed his lips together and she could tell he didn’t want to answer. His silence was answer enough.
“Be careful,” he said. “And don’t go roaming unattended halls again.”
He was being cautious and protective. She didn’t fault him for wanting to keep everyone safe. Even so she had an uncontrollable urge to peer into the shadows of the darkened room to search for Barun. Of course he wasn’t here. He would be stupid to try to penetrate Morgan’s defenses at such a well-attended ball. Still she couldn’t help the shiver of unease racing up her spine.
“I won’t.” She frowned, noticing for the first time the way his brows dipped low and the touch of pain in his eyes. She traced a line down his temple with the tips of her fingers. “How’s your head? Still hurting?”
He grimaced. “Yes. But I’ll be fine as soon as I have you under me.” He grinned wickedly and she laughed, relieved he’d erased some of the tension inside her.
She stood on her toes and kissed his cheek. “I love you, Morgan.”
He pulled her into him and she rested her head against his shoulder. “I love you too. I think we better rejoin the other guests before people start talking.”
Reluctantly she nodded and he opened the door, stuck his head into the hallway and pulled her forward. Quickly she looked down to make sure everything was in place and together they walked to the ballroom. As soon as they entered, Reed pulled Morgan away to talk about a new ship he wanted to purchase for the company, leaving Juliana to wander the huge room of people she didn’t know, who were here to celebrate her wedding, but really wanted to talk about her behind her back. People, it seemed, were the same no matter what century you were in.
She grabbed a glass of wine from a passing waiter and, spotting Sophia and Isabelle across the room, headed in their direction. She could always count on Sophia to put a smile on her face and lift her mood.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Morgan watched his wife walk away, noting the lack of excitement in her eyes that had been there earlier in the evening. His head was pounding furiously and absently he rubbed his forehead. He felt for Juliana. She had such high hopes of making her first real party and a celebration of their wedding a success. Although Sylvia’s heart had been in the right place, the people she invited were no more interested in him and Juliana than they were the fishmonger. They came to see and be seen and to gossip. Unfortunately, Juliana was the brunt of their gossip.