Discover Time For Love

by Louise Clark

  Deep in thought, Andrew strolled to the hitching line where his horse was tied. Thanks to his weeklong visit with his Faith in the twenty-first century, he’d gleaned that he and Mary Elizabeth would eventually marry. He also knew that the ceremony would take place in New York City. How they would get there, however, he had no idea. Nor, for that matter, did Faith.

  He mounted his horse as he contemplated how much easier it would be if he could simply recreate what he already knew had happened. As it was, he would have to figure out something himself. Annoying, but certainly not beyond his imagination and capabilities.

  New York City, he thought, was many days distant by horse or coach. A post road from Boston to New York through Hartford and Springfield had been established a hundred years before to ensure the mail was delivered between the two cities in a timely fashion. Mr. Benjamin Franklin had reorganized the postal system, and now post riders on fast horses could travel the route in four days, riding day and night. A coach, carrying two passengers and traveling only by day, would take much longer. It would be easy for a mounted man—or one with a troop of dragoons behind him—to overtake a carriage.

  They would have a better chance traveling by sea, which was not only faster, but it was safer as well. However, to sail down the coast to New York would mean going into Boston town and finding a ship’s captain who was willing to brave the wrath of George Strand, who was an important member of the government.

  Riding slowly, he considered that idea. Though Boston might be the obvious choice as a departure point due to its size and busy harbor, it could be risky as well, given George Strand’s influence in the city. If they were to travel to New York by sea, perhaps they should leave from another, smaller seaport. Salem, in the north, for instance, or one of the ports farther south. There were drawbacks to that option as well. While it might be easier to find a captain and a ship to sail in at one of those ports, the overland journey from Lexington would be longer. And the longer he and Mary Elizabeth were on the road, the more likely it would be that George Strand would catch up with them.

  There was also the problem of the other end of the sea voyage. Would Strand think to have a message sent to the harbormasters at all the major cities along the coast? A message that requested Andrew Byrne be detained and Mary Elizabeth Strand be sent back to her father in Boston?

  The more he thought about getting married in New York, the more fraught with danger the idea became. According to Faith and her family, it had happened, but how had he managed it? He snorted at this thought and the horse pricked its ears. How would he do it was more to the point.

  Spiriting Mary Elizabeth away from her parents’ home was as complex a problem as transporting her safely to New York. Strand knew he wished to marry her. He must also know that his daughter reciprocated Andrew’s feelings. He would keep a close eye on her to ensure she didn’t slip away into her lover’s waiting arms.

  He sighed. This problem had so many levels he wasn’t sure he would be able to find a safe path forward. He knew something of his future, but not enough for the information to be helpful. In fact, it would have been easier if he’d known nothing at all. Rather than tying himself into knots trying to figure out how he would get her to New York City, he would have simply figured out how he would marry her.

  He kicked the horse into a run, enjoying the rush of wind against his face they galloped down the road. A turn was ahead and he suspected that he’d soon see the Strand’s coach. He didn’t want to pass it, so he aimed the horse toward the fence that separated the road from a field. He reveled in the soaring motion as they leapt over the fence, man and beast as one. Making a smooth landing, Andrew kept his horse at a fast clip.

  He reached home, exhilarated by the headlong gallop across country, but with no good ideas on how to get himself and Mary Elizabeth to New York City. By Wednesday evening he’d completed a prodigious amount of work on his accounts and in the management of his acreage, but no flashes of inspiration had come to him. He decided to go into Lexington to see what news he could ferret out.

  His destination was the Moon and Stars tavern where he often met with friends like Ron Aiken. Men who believed as he did that America was the equal of Britain and deserved a representative government of its own. There they would share a mug of ale while they discussed the issues of the day. Upon arrival, he tied his horse behind the building and strode to the front entrance. He’d discovered on a previous visit to Faith’s time that the building still existed. It was no longer called the Moon and Stars, and people labeled it a restaurant, not a tavern, but its purpose was the same—a gathering place that served excellent food and drink.

  He liked that some parts of his time still existed in the future. The twenty-first century was so very different from his own that those few remnants of his world were a reassurance of continuity.

  Inside, the tavern opened into one large room. At the back was a long oak bar, with shelves holding various bottles of spirits. Round tables sturdily built of local pine and darkened with smoke and age, dotted the room. Most of the seats were taken and the tables were loaded with tankards of ale and plates of hearty stew with baskets of crusty bread. To the left, on the far wall, a doorway led into a smaller snug for men who preferred to engage in private conversation.

  Andrew cast a quick look around. Windows were small and spare and the candle sconces that fixed to the walls didn’t shed much light into the depths of the expansive room. He thought about the twenty-first century restaurant that had replaced the tavern. There had been fixtures designed to replicate the candle sconces of his time utilizing a magic current Faith called electricity—energy that flowed from the ground and into the wall where it connected to various fixtures and generated light so strong it mimicked daylight. It was remarkable really. Faith had told him that Mr. Franklin was most known for working with electrical currents. That surprised Andrew, who thought his work with the postal service much more practical.

  In Faith’s time the old wooden beams in the ceiling were darker and absorbed some of that bright electrical light, adding warmth to the room. Though the wood was newer and paler now, in his time, it had no effect on the light quality. He cursed the dim light provided by the candles and narrowed his eyes, searching for congenial company.

  He spied Ron Aiken sitting with a group of men in a far corner. Ron raised his hand in greeting and Andrew made his way over to the table.

  “Sit, my friend,” he said. “What brings you into town on this fine evening?”

  Andrew shrugged. “I felt the need of a pint with friends.” He signaled the barmaid for a drink. She knew his preferences and nodded. Andrew turned back to his friends. “What news?”

  There were shakes of the head, frowns and cautious sideways glances. The talk, then, was about the injustices perpetrated by the British overlords. Voices were lowered and someone always kept watch to ensure no one came too close and overheard.

  Andrew didn’t mind talking sedition, which was how George Strand would brand the conversation, should he happen to overhear them. Andrew called it asserting the rights that every landowner and free Englishman expected. There was a pause in the conversation when his pint arrived and was paid for, then they were back at it.

  It wasn’t until much later that the topic of George Strand and his daughter came up. It was Ron Aiken who did the talking. “You know Lucy Weaver—she works at Strand’s place over by you, Andrew.”

  Andrew nodded.

  “Well, she was in town for her afternoon off and stopped in for a bite to eat. She mentioned that old man Strand has decided his daughter is to marry that officer who’s visiting them.”

  Andrew nodded again. “I suspected it after the way Strand was showing him off at church on Sunday. Before they left the churchyard, Lady Elizabeth had Mary Elizabeth make a stiff little speech about not seeing me again, but I didn’t believe it.”

  His friend sighed. “She may not want to marry the fellow, but Strand is determined that they wed and has taken
action accordingly.

  “How?” Andrew asked, dreading the answer.

  There was compassion in his friend’s expression. “Lucy said he’s locked Mary Elizabeth in her room and won’t allow her to leave until she agrees. She said that he’s put her on short rations, hoping that hunger will make her more pliable.”

  Andrew stared at his friend. This was terrible news, indeed. He knew Strand was ruthless, but to treat his daughter this way showed a coldness that sent a cold shiver down Andrew’s back. It was followed by fury. “The bastard!”

  “Aye,” his friend said, and the others at the table nodded agreement.

  “I’ll kill him,” Andrew said, through tight lips.

  “Not the best idea,” Ron said. “The English colonel would seek you out and you’d find yourself strung up for a certainty. Then what use would you be to Mary Elizabeth?”

  Ron was right. The future that he knew depended upon his marriage to Mary Elizabeth. If they did not wed, he might never have children—or descendants. When his sister and her husband died far too young, her children would be orphaned. He would raise them, of course, but their lives would be the lesser without Mary Elizabeth to love them as their mother would. Faith might never be born and he would not travel into her future world.

  If he and Mary Elizabeth did not marry, the time line would be changed irrevocably. Who knew how that would change other lives, both those with direct connections to the Beacon-Traveler network, and others who had no idea that travel through time was even possible. He drew a deep breath. He would not change the future, he could not.

  What he could do was plan to get Mary Elizabeth to New York and once there marry her as quickly as possible. He nodded to Ron. “Good advice. But mark my words, gentlemen. I will wed Mary Elizabeth Strand. Sooner, rather than later.”

  Aiken raised his glass. There was a twinkle in his eyes. “To marital bliss.”

  Andrew laughed. “I can drink to that.”

  Chapter 6

  The next morning, having accepted that his marriage to Mary Elizabeth would be both hasty and stealthy, Andrew set about planning how he could make it come to pass. He knew he must spirit Mary Elizabeth away before her father forced her to marry Colonel Bradley, and to do that he had to make sure that George Strand couldn’t intervene. That’s where the stealthy part came in. He and Mary Elizabeth would have to slip away without anyone the wiser so the alert would not be raised too swiftly, thus allowing them to put a good distance between themselves and their pursuers.

  If Ron Aiken was correct, and George Strand had locked Mary Elizabeth in her bedchamber, slipping away would be difficult. Opportunities would be few and perhaps unexpected, so he would have to be prepared.

  His first task would be to arrange their wedding in New York. He wrote his sister, explaining the situation and asking for her help to procure a special license so that he and Mary Elizabeth could marry upon their arrival in the city. As he dusted sand over the paper to blot the ink, he decided he could not entrust a missive as important as this one to Mr. Franklin’s postal service, even though it was now much more efficient than it once had been. He’d ride into Boston himself and arrange for a courier to deliver it to his sister directly. Still, it would take more than a week for it to arrive and a response to be returned. He shook his head as he sealed the letter with his signet ring. Time was not on his side.

  With the letter written, he immediately set off for Boston. As he rode he considered his next steps. Contact Mary Elizabeth first? No, much as he wanted to speak to her, to reassure himself that she was all right and that she was still committed to their union, he knew he should have his plan made and the details organized before he took the risk of reaching out to her.

  The more he thought about it, the more he wished he knew the exact date he and Mary Elizabeth would marry. He could then work backward to figure out what had to be done by when. By the time he’d reached Boston and left the letter with the courier he regularly used to send messages to New York, he’d made up his mind. When he returned that night he would look for Faith’s beacon shining in the grove that would lead him to her home in the twenty-first century. He would visit her tonight and he would find the answers he sought.

  It was just before six in the evening when he stepped through the center of the beacon into Faith’s kitchen.

  She was standing by the stove and she wasn’t alone. Her lover and now fiancé, Cody, was standing at the big maple table and he was opening a bottle of wine with a corkscrew.

  Also at the table were Faith’s sister, Liz, her mother, Chloe, and her father, Daniel. At the sight of Daniel Hamilton, Andrew almost groaned. What the devil was he doing here tonight of all nights? He did not get along with the man, and never had. Daniel refused to accept that being a Beacon for a Traveler who moved through time was a blessing and that traveling itself was an opportunity only given to a few. No, Faith’s father considered it a freakish disability that diminished both his ex-wife, Chloe who was a Traveler, and his daughter, Faith who was a Beacon.

  To be sure, he had apparently mellowed since Faith’s fiancé Cody had joined the family group. Cody, himself a mathematician of considerable repute, was fascinated by Faith’s ability and never hesitated to defend her from Daniel’s occasional swipes.

  It was Daniel, dressed formally in a well-cut dark blue suit in the twenty-first century style that Andrew thought efficient, but dull, who noticed him first. “What the hell are you doing here? This isn’t your night. You’re not due until tomorrow.”

  That was true. His regular visiting night was Friday. “Needs must, my dear Hamilton,” he said, then bowed with a flourish that involved considerable hand movements and bended knee. He kept his eyes on Daniel as he went through the motions and was pleased to see the man’s cheeks redden and anger flash in his eyes.

  “Andrew!” Faith said. She had turned away from the stove and was staring at him, a frown between her eyes. “Is there a problem?”

  Faith was dressed in what she’d once described as a cocktail dress. Cocktails, Andrew had learned on a previous visit, were potent alcoholic drinks that eased a person’s inhibitions and sometimes made them forget their manners. The dress, therefore, was worn for festive occasions. Short, figure hugging, and black, the neckline dipped to a vee and had three quarter length sleeves. Her golden blonde hair was loose, curling over her shoulders. The contrast with the black fabric made it gleam in the overhead lights. Andrew thought, with some amusement, that the garment was meant to appeal to Cody, but be formal enough for an occasion as well.

  “Of course there’s a problem or he wouldn’t be here,” Daniel said, impatience in his voice.

  “That’s not true, Dad. Andrew is my dear friend. He knows he can come forward any time he needs to.”

  “Thank you, dear lady,” Andrew said as he sauntered over to Faith. He lifted her hand to his mouth and pantomimed kissing the back. He knew the gesture would annoy Daniel even more.

  Faith sighed and murmured, “Andrew,” as she shook her head.

  Andrew straightened and grinned at her before he turned to face the others. He noted that Daniel had snapped his mouth shut in a hard line and his whole body had tensed. More and more pleased by how his arrival had been received, he said, “Mistress Chloe, well met. The lovely Miss Elizabeth, it is a pleasure as usual.” They too were wearing cocktail dresses. Since Cody, like Daniel, was dressed in a suit—his was a dark gray, matched with a pale blue shirt and a dark blue tie—Andrew was quite certain an event was in the offing.

  Cody finished pouring a glass of wine and brought it to him. A glint of amusement flickered in his eyes. “Your timing is impeccable, Andrew. I can hardly wait to see how my parents react to you.”

  “Oh!” Faith put her hand to her mouth. “They’ll be here in a half an hour. I’d forgotten.”

  “I thought you might have,” Cody said without apparent dismay. He brushed a light kiss on Faith’s lips. Daniel made a harrumphing sound that had Chloe shooting
a dirty look his way. “We’ll tell them that Andrew is an actor prepping for a role,” Cody said. “That will explain the velvet coat, gold braiding and ruffles, not to mention the extravagant manner.”

  “Why would some random actor be here when this is a dinner for family?” Daniel said, not about to be placated.

  “He’s not random, Dad! He is family,” Liz said. She was able to get away with the defense because she was the only one of Daniel’s family who wasn’t a Beacon or a Traveler.

  “Long ago,” Daniel said, his tone softening as he turned to his daughter. “Now he’s just a pain in the butt.”

  Andrew raised a brow at Daniel’s crudeness and sipped his wine as Cody grabbed another glass and went back to pouring. “I’ll not stay long enough to be introduced to your excellent parents, Master Cody, my friend. I’ve a request to make and then I’ll be on my way.”

  “You should stay,” Cody said, passing a glass to Chloe. “They’ll have to meet you sooner or later, since I’ve asked you to be my best man.”

  “How will he host the bachelor party?” Liz wondered.

  Cody grinned. “Now there’s a thought, since he can’t be in this time unless Faith is nearby. Maybe she’ll have to hide in the cake.” He passed glasses to Liz and Daniel.

  Hide in a cake? Andrew looked at Faith and thought about the size of the average cake. He raised his brow. “That would be a feat of some considerable engineering skill and one I would like to see.”

  Cody chuckled and Daniel snorted with disdain.

  Andrew opened his eyes wide and taunted, “I think it is a task for an engineering expert such as yourself, Hamilton.”

  He was rewarded when Daniel burst out, “Why you—”

  “Dad, he’s teasing,” Faith said. She shook her finger at Andrew. “Behave.”