by Laura Beers
Not wanting to reveal Amelia’s shame, Adam chose not to go into the details about his decision. “Trust me, my decision is best… for both of us.”
“For the past eight years, you have been a shell of a man,” Lord Wessex said firmly. “Then Miss Wright appeared, bringing purpose and joy back into your life.”
“I have Marian. She is my purpose in life,” he countered.
John shook his head. “Before Amelia arrived, you buried yourself in work, refused to attend any type of social gathering, and barely spent time with your daughter.” He stopped his horse. “And now, you have become the man I remember from our youth.”
Pulling back on the reins, Adam stopped and turned towards his friend. “It’s true that Amelia brought laughter back into our home, but you told me yourself that she was odd.”
“Amelia is clever, witty, and beautiful. She would have made a perfect spy for the Americans,” John contended. “Despite being wrong about the spy business, I was not wrong about anything else.”
“You wouldn’t understand my reasons.”
“Then enlighten me.”
“Leave it,” Adam grunted. “I neither need nor welcome your meddling in the affairs of my heart.”
John cast him a frustrated look. “Amelia is your match, in every sense of the word. She completes you, and you won’t ever find another woman like her ever again.”
“Don’t you think I know that?” he exclaimed. “I love her!”
“Then don’t let her go!”
“It is not that simple,” Adam declared, urging his horse forward.
John stared at him. “Why are you not fighting for her?”
“I have my reasons.”
“Your reasons are foolhardy.”
“I beg your pardon?” he asked. “Besides, aren’t you the pot calling the kettle black?”
“This has nothing to do…”
Adam cut him off. “You clearly have feelings for Miss Turner, but isn’t she leaving tonight as well?”
“She is,” John answered, his jaw clenched tightly. “But I asked her permission to court her.”
“And did she agree?”
Sadness swept across John’s features, and he realized that he might have gone too far. “Not yet, but I am still holding out hope that she will delay her departure, at least for a while,” his friend revealed.
“I’m sorry,” Adam mumbled.
“That is the difference between you and me, Adam,” John said deliberately. “I will fight until my last breath to try to secure Peyton’s love.” He huffed. “And you have Amelia’s love, but you won’t fight to keep it.”
Adam kept his gaze straight ahead to avoid seeing the disapproval in his friend’s eyes. “It is of little consequence. Amelia is leaving tonight.”
John’s voice softened. “There is still time. She hasn’t left yet.”
“It’s too late.”
John pressed his lips together as his eyes scanned the green countryside. Finally, he turned his horse towards Twickenham Manor. “I agree with you now,” John declared. “She will be better off without you, because frankly, you don’t deserve her.”
Watching Wessex kick his horse into a run, Adam watched him ride towards Twickenham Manor. Soon the sun would disappear below the horizon, and the full moon would transform the sky. He hung his head, knowing that Amelia would be gone before the next sunrise, taking his heart with her.
Throwing open the front door, Adam stormed towards his study, not bothering to acknowledge any of his staff milling around.
“Milord,” Mr. Blake said, daring to approach him.
“What?” he growled, hoping his butler would take the hint that he wanted to be left alone.
Instead of retreating, Mr. Blake informed him, “Lady Marian wishes to have a moment of your time before she retires for the evening.”
“Send her down,” he barked, walking into his study and leaving the door open. He should be pleased that his daughter wanted to say goodnight, but he was hurting.
Suddenly, he stopped as he realized that Marian had been hurting all this time as well. He was fortunate enough to have known Agnes, but Marian had never known her mother. He needed to share more stories of Agnes, for Marian’s sake.
He strode over to the drink tray, removed the lid of the decanter and poured himself a double shot of whiskey. Grabbing the glass, he stepped around his desk and sat down on the chair. He threw back his drink and slammed the empty glass down on the desk.
Adam reached down and opened the top drawer, revealing the coral necklace that Amelia had given him. Picking it up, he ran it through his fingers, and the precious memories of Lottie came back to his mind. She had been a true friend. She had appeared when he needed her, but she’d disappeared before he’d had a chance to thank her.
Dressed in a white nightgown, Marian edged into the room and moved towards him. Rising, he placed the necklace on the desk and went to greet his daughter. He opened his arms, and she came running into them, embracing him warmly.
“Goodnight, Father,” she said softly. Stepping back, she added, “I hope that Miss Wright will come to play with me tomorrow. I miss her.”
He dropped down to his knee and rested his forearm on top. “Miss Wright is going back to America. She won’t be visiting again.”
Marian puckered her brow. “Did you send her away?”
Ignoring her direct question, he replied, “It was time for her to leave.”
Instead of the disappointed reaction he had anticipated, Adam was surprised when her gaze rested over his shoulder. “Why do you have Lottie’s necklace, Father?” she asked, pointing at the necklace.
Reeling, he grabbed the necklace and handed it to her. “How did you know that this necklace belonged to Lottie?”
“Because when she visited me, I saw her wearing it,” Marian informed him, running her hands along the corals. “She told me that you gave it to her.”
“When was this?”
Twisting her lips to the side, she thought for a moment before saying, “About two years ago.”
“Where exactly did you see Lottie?”
Marian ducked her head, embarrassed. “I was supposed to be resting, but I stole out of the nursery and climbed the big tree out front.” She raised her gaze. “She came to see you, but you weren’t home, so she played a game with me.”
Lottie had come back to see him! Why had his staff not notified him of her arrival? He cleared his throat. “Where was I?”
“At a meeting,” his daughter shrugged, “as always.”
“What did she say?”
“She asked if you were home, and I told her no. Then she asked how you were, and I told her that you were sad, and you missed Mummy.”
Adam reached out and placed his hand on Marian’s little shoulder. “Did she say anything else?”
She nodded eagerly. “She did.” She beamed up at him. “Lottie told me that she had to leave, but she was going to try to send her daughter back to help you. She said that we would be friends.”
Leaning closer, he asked, “Did she tell you the daughter’s name?”
“Yes, her daughter’s name is Amelia,” she revealed, causing his stomach to clench as if he had been punched. “I know that they are related. Lottie and Amelia look just like each other, don’t they?”
How had he not noticed that before? Regardless, this was not making sense. “Dearest, was Lottie as young as Amelia is?”
Marian shook her head. “No, she was much older than Amelia, and she had lots of wrinkles on her face,” she said, pulling at her cheeks. “Her eyes were tired, and she didn’t look well.”
Adam brushed his hand across his face as he tried to make sense of what his daughter was telling him. “Did Lottie tell you when Amelia would come to visit?”
Again, she shook her head. “No. That’s why I waited for her at that tree almost every day for the past two years. I knew you needed help, and I wanted you to be happy.”
Pulling her into an
embrace, Adam whispered, “You have made me happier than I ever thought I could be.”
“But Amelia helped you, just like I knew she would,” Marian said softly, her eyes downcast. “I was hoping she would stay.”
Suddenly, he realized that Amelia’s story didn’t seem so farfetched. Everything started falling into place. But did he dare to believe that Amelia and Lottie genuinely were time travelers?
For someone who prided himself on always knowing what to do, Adam had to admit he was out of his depth. But this much he knew, if Amelia were truly a time traveler, he would go to the end of time to bring her back. He loved her! He knew he had a great deal of groveling ahead of him, but he would do it willingly, just for the opportunity to see her again.
Adam leaned in and kissed Marian’s forehead. “I’ve made a muddle of things, and I need to go see if I can convince Amelia to stay with us.”
Her eyes lit up with excitement. “Oh, Father! Do you mean it?”
“It might be too late, but I am going to try,” he said, rising.
Marian grabbed his hand and started pulling him towards the door. “Blake!” she shouted in the same tone that he usually used. “Prepare my father’s horse immediately.”
“As you wish, milady,” his butler replied with a little bow, his lips twitching in amusement.
Ushering her father into the hall, Marian stood before him and wagged her finger. “Don’t forget to use your manners around Miss Wright, and you must control your temper,” she ordered. “And lastly, she likes biscuits.”
“Blake,” she shouted over her shoulder, “could you please bring a basket of biscuits?”
Adam chuckled. “I’m afraid I don’t have time for biscuits, but I will keep that in mind next time.” He pulled Marian in for a quick embrace. “Wish me luck, darling!”
Sprinting for the door, he headed towards the stable to retrieve his horse, hoping it was not too late.
“I’m coming, Amelia,” he mumbled under his breath.
Chapter 16
For the monthly Twickenham Manor Full Moon Ball, Amelia wore a beautiful, white silk, high-waisted gown with a rectangular bodice and puffy, short sleeves. Marie had parted her long hair down the middle and curled her bangs against her face. The rest of her hair was pinned to the side, except for the ringlets that hung at the nape of her neck.
Leaning back against a column in the ballroom, Amelia watched as the gentlemen led the women towards the dance floor. She blinked rapidly to keep back the tears. She’d been asked to dance repeatedly, but she’d declined their requests. No doubt Aunt Nellie would frown on her behavior, because courtesy demanded that she accept an offer to dance unless she was previously engaged. As much as she wanted to dance, she didn’t want to dance with anyone other than Adam. She glanced over at the door for the umpteenth time, hoping that he would appear to at least say goodbye.
Peyton walked up to her holding two glasses of punch. “Would you like something to drink?”
“Yes, please,” she replied, accepting the glass.
After Peyton took a sip, she asked, “Has he arrived yet?”
She shook her head. “He isn’t coming.”
“He’s a… a… what was that word you used, Amelia? A ninnyhammer!” Peyton declared, turning towards her. “Lord Harrington doesn’t know how incredible you are.”
Amelia took a sip of her drink, delaying her response. She was tired of crying over him. “It doesn’t matter now. I had a wonderful adventure, and I hope that my limited contribution helped Adam.”
Peyton giggled. “You sound more British every day.”
“Thank you,” she stated, impersonating her best British accent.
“That was awful,” Lord Wessex declared from behind her. “Promise me that you will never do that again.”
“I promise,” Amelia said, smiling.
Lord Wessex offered her a sad smile. “Are you still leaving tonight?”
“I am,” she confirmed. “Soon.”
“May I ask how you plan to depart?” Lord Wessex asked, hesitantly. “I only ask because the roads are dangerous to travel by night. Between the highwaymen and carriage accidents, you would fare much better if you schedule your departure for the morning.”
“You need not worry about that. I have another mode of transportation,” she revealed.
That curious furrowing of his brow came back. “Which is?”
Reaching out, Amelia embraced Lord Wessex, much to his surprise. “Thank you for being my friend,” she said as she leaned back. “Please take care of Adam for me. He needs a friend.”
“No, he needs you,” Lord Wessex affirmed, tugging down on his black silk tailcoat.
“Be that as it may, Adam doesn’t want me,” Amelia said, fighting back the tears. “But please tell him I wish him a lifetime of happiness.”
Peyton reached for her glass and handed the two empty glasses to Lord Wessex. “Would you mind finding a place for these while I have a moment of Amelia’s time?”
He bowed. “Your wish is my command.” He gave her a flirtatious smile and departed.
Peyton embraced her tightly. “Do you really have to go so soon? Why not wait until after the ball? Or better yet, till the next full moon?”
“It is time that I return home and close this chapter in my life,” Amelia replied.
“When I get home, I will friend you on all my social media accounts,” Peyton said. “Look for my friend requests.”
“I will,” Amelia agreed, stepping back, “but perhaps you will decide to stay.”
“No, I won’t,” Peyton protested.
Aunt Nellie winked from across the room at Amelia as she left the ballroom.
“It is time,” Amelia revealed. “Would you like to come and watch?”
Peyton nodded. “I wonder if someone else will pop in tonight, now that the ley lines are active.”
Together, they walked out of the ballroom and up the stairs. Once they arrived on the third floor, Amelia said, “I should change back to the gown I was wearing when I arrived. Can I meet you on the fourth floor?”
Walking into her bedchamber, Marie was waiting for her. She made quick work of changing gowns. “Thank you,” she expressed and hugged the maid before leaving the room.
With a feeling of dread that she did not understand, Amelia ascended the final flight of stairs and walked towards the end of the hall. As she entered the room, she saw her mother’s portrait, then looked at her own mural, admiring the happiness radiating from her eyes.
“My portrait appears so life-like,” she murmured.
“It did turn out well,” Aunt Nellie replied, admiring her work. “And Peyton’s mural is completed,” she paused, looking over at her, “when she is ready.”
“I will be ready on the next full moon,” Peyton declared, a little too forcefully.
“We shall see, dear.” Aunt Nellie just smiled at her knowingly. “Now that you both have time traveled, and your portraits are painted, you both can freely time travel through your murals on any full moon.”
Peyton walked up to her portrait. “I can travel back and forth in time whenever I want?”
Nellie nodded. “Yes, as long as you are at Twickenham Manor, and the ley lines are open.” She turned back towards Amelia. “Are you sure this is what you want?”
“It is,” she said. “There is nothing to keep me here.”
With an understanding gleam in her eyes, Nellie walked over to her portrait and waved her hand over the length of it. “It can’t hurt to put just a dab of magic on the mural.” She stepped back, pulling out a little purse and dipping out some dust into her palm. “Amelia, please take your place by your portrait.”
Her feet felt like lead as she walked the few steps over to her mural. She knew that this adventure had changed her. She would never be the same again.
Amelia watched Aunt Nellie draw what looked like a clock from the dust in her palm. Her hands came together as she sculpted a magical, glowing ball in the air. The dust
swirled around on the inside of the ball. The room danced with a rainbow of colors, and Aunt Nellie started glowing. As she started to raise her hand, Amelia braced herself for the inevitable. She was going home.
Suddenly, the door was thrown open, and she heard Adam shout, “Stop!”
Adam could not make sense of what he was seeing. Aunt Nellie was glowing, and a ball of glowing dust was circling around her hand. In a blink of an eye, the bright lights were gone, and he was standing in a room covered with murals on the wall and lighted sconces as if he had imagined the whole thing. Perhaps he was the one going mad.
His eyes immediately saw a large portrait of Lottie, then realized a smaller painting of Amelia hung next to it. “You look just like your mother,” he said in wonder, searching for Amelia.
“They do share an uncanny likeness, don’t they?” Aunt Nellie agreed as she moved closer to him. “May I ask what you are doing on the fourth floor, Lord Harrington?”
“I have come to beg for Amelia’s forgiveness,” he said, his eyes never leaving hers. “I was wrong,” he hesitated, before adding, “about a great many things.”
Miss Turner huffed as she crossed her arms over her chest. “You, my lord, are a daft cow and not worth Amelia’s time!”
Amelia let out a soft chuckle at her friend’s insult. “That was a good one.”
“Thank you,” Peyton responded, smiling. “I have been thinking of good insults all day, and I finally was able to put one to good use.” The smile faded from her face as she looked back at him and scowled.
Ignoring Miss Turner, Adam stepped in front of Amelia. As much as he desperately wanted to reach out and touch her, he had no right to do so. Instead, he ran his hand through his hair and attempted to recite the speech that he had rehearsed on the ride over.
“Amelia, I am sorry.” That was a brilliant start, he thought.
Amelia gave him a wistful smile, and his heart ached at the sight of it, knowing he’d taken the light from her face.
After a moment, she replied, “Thank you for that, Lord Harrington.”