Bitter Oath (New Atlantis)
Page 16
‘Darling sister, I know this seems highly unusual, to say the least, but believe me when I say that there is nothing sudden or rash about what is happening here. I love this man, and he loves me. And though I will miss you, as I would a limb, there is only one way I can be with my heart. I know this, as well as I have known anything to be true in my life. Please help me.’
Portia’s fury abated and was replaced my sorrow. ‘But I do not want to lose you, Livy. You are more mother than sister to me. If you go to the New World, I will never see you again.’
‘I know, dear heart, I know. But you will soon be married, and will make a new life of your own. Do you want me to stay here, a lonely old maid, with nothing to comfort me but my books and grandfather’s specimens? You know I have had many opportunities to marry. I have turned them all down because I never loved even slightly, any of my suitors.
‘But I love Rene more than life itself. And though it may appear we have known each other for such a short time, it is not the truth. He left yesterday because we could find no way forward for us. But he is back today because he has discovered a way we can be together. And I can assure you, where he will take me is a place where I will be happier than I have ever been. It is my one chance at love, Portia. Will you not assist me in that?’
The tears were pouring down her baby sister’s pale cheeks now, and the hands that clung to hers were shaking. Wordlessly, she nodded. Liv smiled her gratitude, and hugged the slim girl. But Portia was a grown woman now, not a girl, she realised with a start. And her response was that of an adult.
‘If this is truly what you want, Livy, I will help you.’
‘Thank you. You have no idea how happy that makes me. Now, I am starving, and I imagine Rene is too. Let us organise an early luncheon, and then start our plans.’
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Even though it was risky, Liv could not stand the idea of being alone that night. Her father’s room was next to hers and Portia’s. Their Aunt, who was away, had the next room along. The guest room, where Rene had been located, was around the corner, at the end of the hall. None of the rooms on either side of him were occupied. Nor was the room across the hall. If they were to be together, and she was to get the real details of what had transpired, then she would need to go to him.
After the house had gone to bed, and everything was in darkness, Liv crept down the hall in her cotton nightdress and bare feet. Her hair was hanging loose; just the way she knew Rene liked it. The candle in her hand flickered hazardously, as one chilly draft after another caught at it. Oh, for the wonders of electricity, she thought passingly. Doing what she did now would have been so much easier in New Atlantis.
When she reached his door, she turned the handle carefully, and then slipped into the dark bedroom. Rene had pulled back the heavy velvet curtains, and she could see the full moon above the tree line, so big it looked to be falling toward them. She knew that men would walk on the moon in the 1960s and that it was not made of cheese, or any other myth or nonsense she had been told as a child. It was a bare and arid world with no “gravity”, and the face she could see was the immense pox marks made by asteroids that had crashed into its surface. It was rather sad to lose the romance of the moon by reducing it that way.
The flickering candle, or the opening door, must have alerted Rene to her presence. She heard his deep voice, with its touch of a French accent, coming from the darkness.
‘Ma Chere, I prayed you would come.’
She moved further into the room, and now she saw him on the edge of the candle’s glow, sitting up in the four poster bed, his chest naked, staring at her like he was a wild cat staring at its next meal. That thought made her chuckle light-heartedly.
‘Why sir, you are naked. Where is your nightdress? Are you not cold?’ She moved even closer, until she stood beside the large bed, looking deep into eyes that were only shadowy caverns at that moment.
‘Thoughts of you keep me warm, Chere. But I will be warmer still with you beside me. Come to bed, wife, I have missed you.’
She didn’t have to be invited twice. After putting the candle on the side table, she dragged her nightgown over her head. Beneath it, she was naked, and the look in Rene’s eyes when he saw her, sent her already ragged pulse into fast forward. With a secret smile, she climbed up onto the bed as he pulled the bedding back so she could join him.
‘Where has my proper Miss disappeared to? Who is this confident siren who comes to my bed in the night? Am I dreaming?’ His voice held amusement, as well as desire.
‘Is it not proper for a wife to meet her husband’s needs?’
‘Oh, very proper,’ he growled, as he reached out to run his fingers through her long hair. ‘Is it proper for a husband to meet his wife’s needs?’
She smiled as she leaned in to kiss him gently but thoroughly. His breath caught in his lungs as her breasts brushed against his chest.
‘More than proper. Necessary. Mayhap we can meet each other’s needs at one time?’ Her tongue slid out, and licked his smiling lips cheekily.
‘Mayhap we might. Come here, wife, I need to feel your body next to mine. I want to love you in a way I have never loved you before.’
‘In what was is that?’ she said, as she ran her fingers through his long, straight hair, feeling the glossy pleasure it gave her senses.
‘Happily. With no bitter-sweet shadow hanging over us.’
‘It does feel rather like I have been release from the gallows. I like the thought that I do not have to die in a few months’ time. But more than that, I love the thought that I can spend a lifetime loving you.’
‘Don’t be miserly, Ma Chere. Not a lifetime, dozens of lifetimes. As many as we need.’
‘I will take one of those clones?’ The thought made her a little uncomfortable.
‘You will, and we will grow old together time and time again, while we watch our world heal. Mon Dieu, that sounds like Heaven!’ He kissed her then, deep and long, until they were both breathless and needy.
Hands roamed familiar territory, as if for the first time. For Liv, being back in her old world brought back all her old social conventions. The idea that she was playing the wanton to a young man who, from this time’s perspective, she barely knew, was an aphrodisiac. It felt familiar, yet strange, to be making love on a horsehair mattress lined with goose down. The soft crunching sound as they moved was at odds with the cloudlike quality of the enormous bed she and Rene had shared at the villa.
‘What is it?’ he mumbled into her hair, as he felt her chuckle.
‘I was comparing beds. This is not nearly as conducive to love play as our bed at home. The rustling makes me think of bed bugs.’
He laughed against her neck. ‘You do not know bed bugs, Ma Chere. Last night at the Inn in Ripley I scratched myself raw from bed bugs. Maybe I have brought my infestation back with me, although I did my best to bathe before your arrival.’
‘You knew I would come?’ she demanded indignantly. ‘Am I such an obvious wanton?’
‘Wanton? Oh yes, Chere. And extremely glad I am of it. But it was more a personal need for cleanliness than a surety that you would come tonight. I know we must be discreet. I still worry that we might be caught, and your father will run me through.’
‘I cannot remember mention of any such thing in my family history.’
‘Nor is there mention of a hoax death. Not everything that happens is recorded, and truth is what the scribe makes of it.’
She licked down his chest until she reached his pulsing manhood. With a giggle, she watched him gasp and jerk at the first lave of her tongue. His hands buried themselves in her hair, convulsively.
‘How is it that you found the solution to our tragic predicament?’ Her tongue licked him again. Only half her mind was on her question. The other half was enjoying the pleasure her man was so obviously experiencing. Jane had been so right. There was nothing they did together that was wrong or sinful. Everything was right.
‘It is a
paradox, Ma Chere. I felt the need for closure, so instead of going home, I went to the day of your funeral. There I met your sister Augusta, who was extremely vexed by my presence. After some understandable misunderstanding on my part, she shared with me that I had devised a plan to fabricate your death, so we could be together. Her husband provided the wherewithal to stage the death scene, and signed the death certificate. Portia’s doting curate helped to stage the burial. Your coffin contains bags of sawdust, so I was informed.’
‘How is it possible? Where did the idea come from first? You did not have it before you left here. Had such an idea even crossed your mind?’
They had stopped their play, and were intent on their discussion now. Rene frowned, as he thought of answers to her questions. ‘I have no idea where the idea came from. I certainly had not entertained such an extreme measure before I met Augusta. And yet, it seems so simple. It is a ploy as old as Romeo and Juliet, for star-crossed lovers such as us.’
‘So you did not think of it, and yet Augusta told you it was your idea. And after today, it would seem it is your idea. But yet it wasn’t.’
‘The chicken or the egg. What came first? A paradox, Ma Chere. Whatever its source, I am more than grateful.’
Liv leaned in, and rested her head against his muscular chest. ‘Oh Rene, I was in agony last night. The idea of never seeing you again. I have never felt pain like that before. I never want to feel it again.’
‘And you never will. Mon Dieu, the more I think of it, the more of a miracle it seems. I feel so undeserving…’ She felt him kiss the top of her head.
‘Miracle indeed.’ She drew back from him, and kissed him again, languidly. ‘To think I was happy to live my life alone, before I met you. How ludicrous that seems now.’
His clever fingers strayed down between her legs, and all thoughts of miracles disappeared. All she could think of was his touch, and the sensations he drew from her body. This was a miracle in its own right. She let go, and allowed him to take her higher.
Autumn 2335 New Atlantis GAIAN CONFEDERACY
Jane stood waiting for the Portal to open once more. Her heart was heavy with grief, not only for her lost friend, but for Rene, who would be shattered by what he had been forced to do. What would that feel like? To have to take the one you loved back to her certain death, and then leave her there, alone. No wonder he had been wild in the last weeks since he was told of the deadline. How could she part with Julio like that? Not possible.
She clung more tightly to Julio’s hand, and he drew her closer, sensing her pain. Then the Portal was lit up with showering sparks again, and the hum filled the Start Point cavern.
‘Dear God, I half expected him not to come back,’ she heard Cara say behind her. She had thought the same thing herself.
‘We know what happened. It was always going to happen. Isn’t that your logic?’ Jac said to her softly, as they watched Rene step through the shower.
With his right hand outstretched behind him, it took them all a second to realise what they were seeing. Liv was stepping back through, too, her hand gripping Rene’s, half a step behind him.
‘He couldn’t do it,’ Maggie said, with joy in her voice. Jane felt the dual pulls – one toward happiness, one toward dread.
They both looked so happy. It wasn’t fair that their happiness would be taken from them. The committee would force Liv to go home. And they would stop Rene from Jumping back to her again. This was just a reprieve. Why didn’t they just disappear into another time, if they wanted to try to escape their destiny? It would be what she would have done.
Jac moved forward, ever the protector of their fragile world. Rene held up his hands as if in surrender, but he was laughing as he did it.
‘Do not worry; the time-line is safe. As far as history is concerned, Liv died in a riding accident, just as recorded. The unwritten story we will tell you over coffee and a decent meal.’
Everyone was looking at everyone else, unsure what to make of his declaration. When Liv laughed, let go of Rene’s hand, and rushed down to embrace her, Jane stopped worrying. This was not the reaction of a woman who still had the sword of Damocles hanging over her. This was a woman returning home for good.
‘I have missed you, sister,’ Liv declared with excitement.
‘How long has it been?’ Jane asked.
‘Four long months. We had to stay long enough to stage my death, and for me to say my goodbyes. Unobtrusively, of course. Except for Augusta and Portia.’
‘Your sisters know where you have come?’
‘Not exactly. They think we set sail for the New World. In a way, they are right.’
Rene was at Liv’s side now, his arm around her waist, looking happier and younger than she had ever seen him. For once, he looked more handsome than Julio, his bright blue eyes glowing with love.
‘Hey Frenchie, you pulled it off. Good for you!’
He leaned across and kissed her cheek, and for once Jane sensed no antagonism from Julio. He could feel the love that flowed between the couple in front of them. And it was no threat to him or his love for Jane.
‘Let us get that coffee at the Retrievers Lounge, and we will tell you all of our temporal paradox. I could kill for a decent espresso.’
‘What he means is our miracle,’ Liv supplied to the stunned crowd of well-wishers, who had all been at her wedding. ‘But I could kill for pizza, right now. 1810 made me realise how spoiled I was back here.’
‘Pizza and coffee… the classics that survived the apocalypse,’ Maggie said with a laugh.
With that they all turned away from the massive stone Portal, set on its cold sandstone dais, and followed the ribbons of light to the lift at the end of the cavern.
‘Home,’ breathed Liv, with relief.
‘Home,’ Rene agreed, kissing the top of her golden head.
Jane couldn’t stop grinning.
AUTHOR’S NOTE:
Writing stories like this is fun, but knowing readers enjoyed my stories is even more fun. If you liked this novel, please visit my website www.nhysglover.com and tell me so! Or if you prefer to assist other readers in their decision to read this, or any of my other books, please go to your place of purchase and leave feedback. I read it all, and so do others.
And if you’d like a small taste of the next book in the series, keep reading… ‘The Titan Drowns’ is the story of three loves discovered as the Retrievers race to save victims of the doomed Titanic. The most exciting story yet, (in my humble opinion!)
Chapter One
Lizzie
10th March 1912, London, ENGLAND
Lizzie Faulkner stepped with trepidation into her employer’s old-fashioned study. The heavy furnishings, fussy Victoriana nick-knacks and blazing fire in the grate, made the high-ceilinged room unnaturally oppressive. The silent condemnation of the straight-back woman standing at the window only served to intensify the atmosphere.
Lizzie tried to draw in a deep breath to calm her jittery nerves, but she had cinched her swan bill corset so tightly that morning that she had barely enough lung capacity for shallow breath. Dizziness and panic threatened to overwhelm her.
‘Ah, Miss Faulkner, I am glad you have seen fit to join me at last. Are you feeling a little better?’ The words were polite enough, even compassionate, but they were delivered in a tone of such icy disdain as to make a mockery of any warmer feelings.
Mrs Peabody was a woman in her mid-forties, but her extreme thinness and tightly pinched features made her look ten years older. Her dark hair, liberally streaked with grey, was scraped painfully back from her face, and bound in a netted bun at the back of her head. Her fashionable, pencil-thin morning dress was made from expensive fabric, but the puce colour clashed badly with her complexion, and only added to her unattractive appearance. It was almost as if she went out of her way to look as hard and unappealing as possible.
‘Yes thank you, Madam,’ she whispered, ashamed of her own temerity. Where had the courageous blue-stocking
gone, who had set her sights on scaling the peaks of male-dominated arenas? And who was this craven ninny who seemed unable to put more than two words together without whimpering? Life had torn away her childish confidence, and left her only too aware of her weakness and vulnerability.
‘I have received troubling information from below stairs,’ Mrs Peabody went on, her tone just as stony cold as before. ‘Would you care to make a conjecture about the nature of that information, Miss Faulkner?’
‘Ah, no Madam, I have no idea,’ she lied unconvincingly.
‘Then you are a liar as well as a fallen woman, Miss Faulkner. I have it on very good authority that you are with child, and as there is no ring upon your finger, and I have heard of no husband mentioned in the past; I can only assume that this child you carry is illegitimate. Do you deny it?’
Lizzie felt the room begin to spin, and she reached out to grab the edge of the desk to steady her.
When Jessie, the upstairs maid, had brought a jug of hot water to her room that morning, she had inadvertently seen Lizzie in her smalls, before she had time to don her corset. The girl’s eyes nearly bulged out of her head from the sight, and she’d turned tail and run, slopping water out of the jug as she went.
With stays, she had been able to disguise her five-month pregnancy, but without them the gentle rounding of her girth was apparent, as was the increased size of her breasts. Jessie was an ignorant girl, but she was wise about the ways of nature. The girl had known exactly what she was looking at, and been in a hurry to share her titillating secret about the uppity governess with the rest of the household.
‘I was taken against my will, Madam. It was not my fault.’
‘Hah! As if every girl in your condition does not claim the very same thing. Even if that were the case, you are still at fault for placing yourself in a position where such an attack could take place.’