by Louise Clark
Faith shouldered open her front door. She was loaded down with the bag from the dress shop, another containing new shoes to go with it, and two bags of groceries filled with supplies she planned to use to make the perfect dinner for Cody. She’d chosen a menu that wouldn’t need much preparation, so she did a bit of quick prep work, then put away the food. She checked her watch. The afternoon was creeping to a close. Time to wash and change for the evening.
She sang in the shower. Tonight she was going to tell Cody about her ability. That frightened her, but it was also a relief. Cody would not abandon her just because she was a Beacon. She was sure of it.
Well, almost sure of it. Her stomach did nervous flips while she dressed in the flirty little sheath that screamed ‘I want you!’ and butterflies danced as she swept her hair back into a sophisticated knot that begged to be taken down. After another quick look at her watch, she headed for the kitchen. She wanted to have the table set in the dining room and the appetizers in the oven before Cody arrived.
She had just put a tray of sausage rolls in the oven when she heard an impatient bellow. “Faith, finally! You are home! Where have you been?”
She froze. After a moment she carefully closed the oven door then cautiously followed the sound of the voice. “Andrew?”
He was standing in the middle of the living room, his expression angry but determined. Though he was wearing one of his best suits, a burgundy silk coat with wide lapels laced with gold thread at the button holes, a white brocade waistcoat, and black silk breeches, Faith noted that the silk of his coat and breeches was dusty, as if he’d rolled around on the road a time or two. Then there was his face and knuckles. “You’ve been fighting.”
“This morning,” he said grimly. “Where were you all day? I’ve been trying to come forward since noon.”
“I was out shopping.” Frowning, she studied him. Whoever he’d been fighting had certainly landed a few good blows. An enormous bruise, high on one cheekbone was already turning black and blue and affecting his eye, which was swelling shut. “How many this time?”
With a little groan, he sat down at one end of her sofa. “There were two.”
Her dismayed glance moved lower, to his hands. There she could see smears of blood. Since his face and body showed no evidence of cuts or scratches, she guessed the stains came from one or more of the other guys. “I hope you gave as good as you got.”
He grinned at her, then winced as the movement affected his injured cheek. “Those men will think twice before they make another attempt, but it was George Strand who set them upon me and I do not doubt that he will send others in their place.”
Faith sat down on the edge of the recliner. “Andrew, what happened?”
“I stole a few private minutes with Mary Elizabeth last night at the ball. I explained to her about being a Beacon and traveling to the future.” He paused and smiled faintly. Faith had a sudden mental image of Andrew locked in a passionate embrace with his eighteenth century lady.
“She believed and accepted. My joy knew no bounds! I asked her then and there to marry me. She agreed. We decided I would visit her father this morning to formally ask for her hand.”
“Let me guess, her dad was not pleased.”
“He was furious. He ordered me out of his house and before I knew it I was being set upon by two of his men, intent, as they said, upon teaching me a lesson.”
“I know you want to marry Mary Elizabeth and that George Strand is her father, but the guy’s contemptible,” Faith said. She was furious that Andrew had been treated this way. She went to the kitchen for an ice pack.
He rested it against his cheek cautiously. “Aye, he is that. After I sent his men back to him with their tails between their legs, I returned to my farm to decide what I must do. Strand made it very clear that he would not willingly allow his daughter to join her hand with mine.” He stood restlessly and began to pace. “If Mary Elizabeth and I are to wed, it will have to be by an elopement. And after we elope—will I be able to bring her back to my farm? Or will her father steal her away from me? Or make her life miserable?”
“If she loves you, Andrew, and she is with you, her father’s anger will hurt, but it will be countered by the love you give her.”
He paused at the window, staring out into the front yard at an ancient maple that was a relic of the original woods where he’d found Faith’s beacon. “That may be, Faith, but I cannot be sure.” He paused, then added, “More important, nor can Mary Elizabeth. She is a fine young woman who respects her family, particularly her mother. I would not be the one to drive a wedge between them.”
“I’m sorry, Andrew.” Faith went over to him to give him a hug. “What a mess. Is there anything I can do?”
He nodded. “I wish to use your computer.”
“Why?”
“Does it matter?”
Well no, it didn’t. Unless…“That depends. If you want to play computer solitaire, be my guest. If you want to use the Internet for research, the answer’s no.”
He glared at her. “I need to know what happens to George Strand. I can find out on the Internet.”
“Not necessarily. And it’s not allowed, Andrew. You know that.”
“Not only is the man one of the King’s chief agents in Boston, but he is a bully and a brute. I must know what happens to him.”
Faith knew George Strand’s fate. Everyone in the family did. He would die in the service of King George, shot by a patriot during the Revolutionary War. Shot by the son-in-law he refused to acknowledge. Shot by Andrew.
There was no way Faith was going to let Andrew on the Internet, because he was right, he probably would find out what had happened to George Strand and then what?
“You can’t, Andrew. What happens if you discover he lives another forty years and makes his daughter’s life a misery each and every day? What would you do?”
“Take her away from him!” Andrew said, putting his hands on his hips in an authoritative way.
Faith shook her head. “Then you would be changing history. Andrew, you cannot search out your own future. It is too dangerous!”
He glared at her. “I will do this.”
“No, you will not.”
Now at an impasse, they glared at each other. Andrew was the first to look away, but he was far from defeated. He allowed his brows to rise in a thoughtful way. “Your clothing is even more revealing than most in this century,” he said. “I assume this scrap of material is for Master Cody’s pleasure?”
She eyed him warily, wondering where he was headed with this. “That’s right.”
“Have you told him about the Beacon?”
“No. I was going to do it tonight.” Even as she said the words she realized that Cody would be arriving in less than an hour expecting an intimate dinner and a quiet evening. He certainly wouldn’t want to be joined by a confrontational Uncle Andrew.
“I will help,” Andrew said, looking pleased with himself.
As well he might. He knew very well that Faith wanted to be alone with Cody when she told him about her special ability. He probably assumed that she would cave into his blackmail and allow him on the net, just to be rid of him.
Think again, Uncle Andrew. “I’ll call Cody and put him off while we sort this out.”
Andrew’s lips pursed in annoyance. “I’m not going back without the information, Faith.”
“Andrew, you must! You know that.” With that she left him to consider the realities of the situation and went into the kitchen to rescue the appetizers then call Cody.
His voicemail answered. Frustrated, she left a message asking him to call her. Then she paused and thought. Somehow she had to get Uncle Andrew back into the eighteenth century before he snuck in some research on the net. How? She needed help and a whole lot of support.
She phoned Liz’s cell. Her sister and Andrew had always gotten along. Maybe Andrew would listen to her.
Liz’s voicemail answered too. What was it with people? Di
d no one answer the phone these days? She left an urgent and slightly hysterical message, then dialed her mother.
This time she was in luck. Chloe answered on the third ring. “Mom? Andrew’s here and he says he won’t go back until he finds out what happens to George Strand. Can you come?”
Chapter 25
There were three vehicles parked in the drive at Faith’s house. Cody recognized her car, but not the other two. He frowned, wondering if he’d misinterpreted her invitation. When she’d slid out of his bed this morning, she’d talked about spending the night at her place. Somehow, he’d been certain she had planned a one-on-one evening. He’d been so sure that he’d used the day to shop, not one of his favorite occupations, but a necessary one.
He parked to one side of the drive so that the other cars would be able to leave, hopefully just after he arrived. Then he retrieved the large bouquet of roses and orchids from the seat beside him and checked his pocket before he slammed the door. Taking a deep breath he headed to the house.
He knew there was something wrong the instant Faith answered the door. She was wearing a red dress of some soft, shimmery fabric and he allowed himself a moment to admire the way it hugged her curves and showed off her long legs, before he set his mind to solving the puzzle set before him.
“Hi,” she said. She glanced over her shoulder, her expression worried.
She was standing in the middle of the doorway, blocking his entry. He smiled at her in a reassuring way and stepped forward, forcing her to move back and open the door wider. Her reaction was reluctance and again she glanced inside the house. He thrust the flowers at her. Once more, good manners and habit forced her to react. She took the bouquet, stared at it in a bemused way for a moment and then held it close and inhaled.
“I bought them for you,” he said. “I hope you like them.”
As if she had drawn strength from the fragrant scent, she smiled as she looked up. “I do! Oh, Cody, you weren’t home! I called you, maybe half-a-dozen times.”
He moved closer, touched her shoulder and gently eased her away from the door, which he closed behind him. With the door shut, the normal outside sounds disappeared and he could focus on those inside the house. There were voices coming from somewhere in the rear, a woman’s voice, then another and a male voice followed, after a moment, by another male voice. A piece of the puzzle fell into place. Apparently Faith’s family had decided to visit.
Faith heard the voices too. “I didn’t plan for them to come tonight.”
Cody took her arm at the elbow and guided her across the hall. He had a vague idea of taking her into the living room where they could cuddle on the couch while she described whatever crisis had caused this family gathering. “Do they often just show up?”
Faith shook her head and opened her mouth to speak, then shut it again as her father’s voice bellowed, “I told you this would never work! Just when it looks as if she’s got a decent man interested in her, this…this madman from the past shows up. It will always be like that. No normal man would accept a lifetime of this kind of nonsense.”
Faith went completely white. She shot a quick, horrified look at Cody. The flowers in her hand shook as she shivered. Fury raced through Cody. He still didn’t know what was going on, but the need to solve the equation gave way to a far greater need to protect his woman. He strode toward the kitchen, aware that Faith was trailing behind.
A woman’s voice—Faith’s mother, Cody thought—was saying bitterly, “Not every man is as narrow-minded as you are, Daniel!”
“Mom!” said Liz.
Then Cody burst into the kitchen.
They were gathered around the kitchen table. A plate of appetizers, probably meant for him, sat in the center. Daniel and Chloe were glaring at each other, while Liz huddled protectively beside her father and Andrew calmly ate one of the appetizers, which looked like a sausage roll.
It was Andrew who saw Cody first. “Ah-ha,” he said around the sausage roll and pointed at Cody. Everyone else focused on the doorway and suddenly there was silence.
That suited Cody just fine. He shot Daniel an angry stare as he caught Faith’s hand, deliberately linking himself to her. “It’s a good thing I’m not a normal man, isn’t it, Hamilton?”
Having swallowed the sausage roll, Andrew pounded his fist on the table. “Well said, sir!”
Daniel rounded on Andrew. “He has no idea what he’s talking about.”
Faith trembled. Cody wanted to kill her father. Instead he tightened his grip on her hand and drew her closer. “Don’t I? How do you know? You’ve been out of her life for years. How do you know what she will or will not tell me about herself?”
Daniel said furiously, “I know because her mother didn’t tell me until after we’d been married for…”
“My mistake, Daniel! I thought you cared enough about me—about our family!—to…”
“And Faith is just like her mother,” Daniel concluded, ignoring his ex.
“Faith is not her mother and I am not you. Don’t put your own twisted feelings on Faith and me.”
Though Daniel continued to glare at him, there was doubt mixed in with the outrage now. Beside Cody, Faith stirred. She squeezed his hand, then eased away from his hold. She held the flowers out. “Mom. I need to find a vase for these. Can you hold them for a minute?”
Chloe said, “What lovely flowers, Cody,” for all the world as if they were not in the midst of an emotional scene of monumental proportions.
Cody watched Faith. Her movements were jerky, but growing smoother with every task performed, as if the ordinary jobs steadied her. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Daniel fuming. Andrew was eating more sausage rolls. He passed the plate to Liz, who shook her head miserably.
Almost everyone at the table was dressed in normal warm weather clothes. Liz was wearing a spaghetti-strap dress patterned with flowers in yellow and blue pastels. Chloe was also clad in a summer dress, although hers covered more skin than Liz’s did, while Daniel had on a red golf shirt and black twill pants. Andrew, however, was dressed as if he was going to a costume party. Although the temperature had to be nearly eighty, he was wearing a suit coat made from a slithery fabric that looked like silk. The color was a splash of dark red and the fancy garment sported wide lapels and buttonholes embroidered with gold thread. Under the coat was a shirt with a thick fall of lace at the wrists and around his neck was a tie with more lace, held in place by a tiepin that looked suspiciously as if it was made from a sizeable diamond.
Cody had wondered about Andrew since he met him a week ago. The odd way of speaking, the childlike amazement for everyday items, the lack of knowledge about things that should have been as familiar to him as his fingertips. Seeing him now, dressed in clothes that made him look like a wealthy country gentleman from an eighteenth century print, only added to the mystery about the man. Moreover, those expensive clothes of his were dirty. There were tears in the lace at his wrists and Andrew was sporting a bruise that had already developed into a hell of a shiner.
Whatever was going on here, Andrew was the key. Cody was prepared to stake his life on that.
With the flowers in the vase, Faith turned to her family. “Okay. This needs to be resolved—tonight. Mom, Andrew needs guidance. He’s here because he wants to use the Net to get it. I think we need to tell him what he wants to know.”
Outraged, Daniel said, “You’re not allowed to!”
Faith sighed. “That’s part of the mystery, isn’t it?” She opened the fridge door. “Maybe we have to tell Andrew. Maybe he’s supposed to know.” She plunked a brown paper package onto the counter, hauled out a plate and ripped open the package. Inside were two large cooked lobster tails. She sliced the shells open and used a fork to pry the meat loose.
“But—”
“For once you might listen to your daughter and take her feelings into consideration,” Chloe said. “We know how to handle these things. You abandoned us long ago. You have no say in this matter.”
Faith shook her head as she cut the lobster meat into bite-sized pieces. She had the look of a woman at the end of her patience.
“I’m with Dad,” Liz said. “He’s still part of this family.”
Cody touched Faith’s shoulder. She looked up, startled. “What would you like me to do, Faith? Do you want me to go?” He didn’t want to leave, but he wasn’t sure Faith would appreciate him around while her family took pot shots at each other.
Her response was quick and certain. “Oh, no Cody, no. Tonight you stay. Please.”
He couldn’t say no. Hell, he didn’t want to say no. Not only did he want to be here to support Faith, but her family’s conversation was intriguing.
“Daniel Hamilton is no more entitled to be one of us than George Strand is,” Andrew burst out angrily. “They are both cold, uncaring men who would rather see their daughters unhappy than acknowledge that they must live their lives their own way.”
The group around the kitchen table erupted in a heated debate.
Faith shook her head again and loaded the lobster onto a plate. She put it on a tray, then added cutlery and a jar of seafood sauce, working, Cody could see, as quickly as she could.
“All of this is getting us nowhere,” Daniel said.
Faith turned around. “You’re right, Dad. Listen up, all of you. I invited Cody over tonight to be with me. Me. Alone. This,” she indicated the people assembled at the table, “isn’t exactly what I had in mind when I planned the evening. Right now Cody and I are going out to the backyard where we will drink some wine and eat some lobster and talk—alone—while the rest of you discuss what needs to be done.” She took a bottle of wine from the fridge where it was chilling, then grabbed two glasses from the cupboard.
As she handed the wine and glasses to him, Cody smiled. His heart leapt when she smiled back. He had no idea what was going on, but he was pretty sure he was about to find out. Whatever it was, it had split her family and a part of him couldn’t help wondering if Daniel Hamilton was right. Another part kept fiddling with the bits of information he had, trying to put the puzzle together.