Time Travel Romance Collection

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Time Travel Romance Collection Page 20

by Grace Brannigan


  "This -- this is so incredible, even more incredible then when I realized I was in a different time. Now it turns out we're both from the future. Why did any of this happen?" Sudden light dawned. "Oh, my God, your aunt, that is -- Hawk's aunt, she did this. She said there were two of us."

  "I'm not sure how it all happened. Some of my memory has returned, but that attack three months ago was on Hawk, and somehow I took his place. My life here began that day. I was told I was Hawk Morgan. Since I have extensive records about my ancestor and Hawk's Den, I knew a lot of the family history. What I was being told was familiar to me, even though things felt off kilter. I just didn't know why I felt off-balance."

  "Who said you were Hawk Morgan?"

  "Malry, Belva, Maize. Even the servants addressed me as Hawk. They showed me pictures -- we look very much alike."

  "You own Hawk's Den in the present."

  "Yes," he admitted. "I do own Hawk's Den. After all the evidence everyone presented, there was no thought to question it when they called me Hawk. I thought I was him."

  "So -- where is the real Hawk Morgan?" A sudden thought struck her and she rushed on without giving him time to answer. "Could he be in the future -- or dead?"

  "I don't know," Pierce said slowly.

  "I kept getting confused if you were Hawk or Pierce, even though I'd never met Pierce." She blew out a breath, frowning. "All this explains why the handwriting in the journal is so dissimilar. I remember noticing the earlier entries seemed different from the later entries as if the writing itself had changed."

  "Two men from two very different periods of history."

  Nervously, she pressed her palms together. "This is so -- so hard to take in." An icy fist gripped her. "What if we get stuck here out of time? Or even worse, we get separated?"

  "No," he said fiercely, "not that."

  Pierce turned toward the window, the sun highlighting the shadowing of beard on his lean cheeks. His hair fell in a dark wing across his forehead, touching one brow. Isabeau stared at him, caring so much about him, not sure how they could get back -- wondering if they could get back to where they belonged.

  "How long have you had your memory back?"

  "Since you've been here, I've had more and more memory flashes. Then everything came together last night. I was so worried about you, it all came flooding in on this torrent. Whereas for the last three months there was nothing, suddenly I knew who I was. As far as anyone else knows, I am Hawk Morgan."

  Isabeau nodded slowly. "For now until he can be found. If whoever is behind this can't find him, they can't kill him." She looked at him sharply. "But they're trying to kill you instead."

  "No one's going to be killed. Whoever's behind the attempts has to be the biggest idiot in this century. He's bungled more attempts that I can count."

  "Well, at least that's in our favor. We've got to figure this out before he gets lucky." Isabeau frowned a minute, then said slowly, "What about Malry, do you think he knows anything?"

  "I've wondered that myself, but since I woke up here in 1894, he's stuck to me like glue. He's helped me tremendously."

  "You don't think he's in on this?"

  "No, but I am wondering if he knows where the real Hawk Morgan might be. He loves Hawk like a son. He'd go to any extreme to save him."

  "Even convincing you that you're Hawk, to buy some time? Maybe we should have a talk with him."

  "I intend to."

  "One thing that has me confused is the time sequence. You say you've been here over three months. I've been here myself a little over a month. Yet when Leif and I arrived at Hawk's Den, Mrs. Cummins indicated you were expected home later that night or early the next morning."

  Pierce frowned.

  "What is it?" she asked uneasily.

  "I should tell you this now. In my present time, as far as I know, I don't know you or your friend Leif."

  "But --" Isabeau sat down again, dropping her head to her hands, trying to think. She rubbed her eyes. "Pierce, you invited us there to photograph your beautiful house. You had spent several years renovating it." She looked up at him. "Is any of this sounding familiar?"

  "My plans for Hawk's Den include a complete renovation, however I had not implemented any of the plans yet."

  "Wait." She held up her hand. "Wait. What date are we talking about in your time?"

  "2007."

  "Oh, my God. No wonder --" She looked up at him, fighting the urge to really let fear take hold. "This gets too frightening. Your present time is 2007. One month ago I was in 2012. No wonder you don't know who I am. In your time, I'm still a teenager."

  "At this point I'm not surprised by anything," he muttered.

  "You realize we could already have changed history," she added, "just by virtue of being here." Isabeau met his eyes. "There's something else you should know."

  "Tell me," he said grimly.

  "Hawk Morgan's death was noted in the Bible I saw when I arrived there." The back of her throat ached and she swallowed. "I've been afraid to tell you."

  "When?"

  "May 19th."

  "Less than two weeks," he said.

  Chapter Fifteen

  "Less than two weeks," Pierce repeated slowly. "If we can get past that date safely, maybe that will alter history." He gave her a sharp look. "You have to be really careful not to call me Pierce. As far as anyone knows, I'm still Hawk Morgan." Abruptly, he changed the subject. "Now, you'll be glad to know I have news for your friend Lila."

  "Good news?" she asked hopefully.

  "It may be," he said cautiously. "The family of Lila's husband still resides in South Carolina. Before this goes further I need to investigate a little more fully."

  "Why? Is something wrong?"

  "It's in the best interest of everyone to find out as much as possible about the Forresters before we drop Lila and her child in their midst. We don't want to land them in a worse situation than they were already in."

  "Nothing could be worse than the way they were living," Isabeau said passionately.

  "There are worse things than living the way they were. I need at least a marriage license and birth certificates proving their identity, then I'll meet with the Forresters myself. It helps to be prepared for anything. There's a chance Roger's family will want nothing to do with a widow and small child."

  "You've brought up possibilities I hadn't thought about and I know you're right. You must be a very good lawyer in your time."

  He smiled, easing some of their mutual tension. "I do all right."

  "I won't say anything," she promised. "When do you think you'll know something more?"

  "I've made an appointment for tomorrow to speak with Mrs. and Mrs. Forrester."

  "Tomorrow -- but I thought they live in South Carolina?"

  "They have two residences, one of which is located in South Carolina. Right now they reside just north of here. In the meantime I suggest you take Lila and Megan shopping."

  Isabeau shook her head. "Lila would never agree to it. She's already afraid you'll want something for your help."

  Pierce looked at her sharply.

  "I'll do my best to persuade her, but Lila doesn't want to be beholden to anyone."

  She broke off with a squeal as Pierce lifted her from the settee into his arms. He kissed her long, luxuriously and she didn't want him to stop.

  "You're very good at that," she said with admiration.

  "What else do I need to know about Lila?" he asked briskly, setting her on her feet.

  "When Roger died, their landlord expected certain favors if she wanted to stay in the apartment."

  "Now I understand her fear." Pierce sighed. "I've got to set this situation to rights. Even if the meeting with Roger's family should go bust, I feel compelled to help them." He left her side and strode across the room.

  "Where are you going?"

  "To see Lila."

  He paused at her exclamation, brows raised.

  "Pierce, if you go up there, you'll scare
the daylights out of both of them. I'd better come with you. Luckily," she smiled up at him cheekily, "I can be a bit more charming."

  He gave her a wolfish grin and offered her his arm as he opened the door. "I'll bet you haven't seen one tenth of my moods," he warned.

  "What? A bet?" Isabeau narrowed her eyes. "You do like to take chances, don't you?"

  "Not with you sweetheart, we're in this together."

  "I think I like that -- together." Satisfied, she arched a brow and gave him a big smile. For the first time today Isabeau began to feel a bit of happiness and some hope. All due to Pierce Morgan, the man she was already falling deeply in love with.

  #

  A gentle breeze lifted the soft tendrils of Isabeau's newly shaped hairstyle. She leaned against the plush carriage seat and enjoyed the crisp early morning air.

  The carriage swayed as it rounded a sharp turn, the springs taking the brunt of the rutted highway. The ride was amazingly smooth for a hired hack, or so Lila had nervously commented earlier.

  The horses had made the journey from the city in a little more than two hours. Isabeau decided she would take a car any day. She could have made the same distance in just under thirty minutes. She was glad she'd thought to bring along her camera. She took pictures of Lila and Megan, the roadside scenery and Pierce.

  The carriage halted, rocking gently as each occupant in turn gazed at the house before them.

  Lila turned to Isabeau, then to Pierce, biting her lip, eyes wide with the unexpectedness of the grandeur before her. Isabeau watched as she hugged her daughter's small frame, a slight tremor apparent on her lips.

  Privately, Isabeau marveled at the transformation of Lila and Megan following their shopping trip. They could have stepped from the pages of a fashion magazine, so different did they look from her first meeting with them. Megan wore a pinafore and a dark blue coat with a matching bonnet, while Lila had chosen a rich emerald green outfit, which perfectly complimented her dark hair and eyes.

  It had taken an entire morning for Isabeau to convince Lila that she and Megan needed warmer clothes for the journey into the countryside. It was only when Lila had seen the excited light in her daughter's eyes that she had been lost, helplessly agreeing to an outfit for each of them.

  Glancing at Pierce, Isabeau took note of the small frown puckering his brow, but his brief glance in her direction told her nothing of his thoughts.

  He had shown his appreciation of her new hairstyle yesterday after Lila had reshaped her unruly blonde hair. Lila had cut the length to her shoulders, which she found she liked much better, creating little wispy curls around her face. She liked the new, softer look. Pierce's brief glance had somehow conveyed a certain hunger, which even now bothered Isabeau to the point where she couldn't sit still just thinking about it.

  Actually, it had amazed her what a little snipping here and there could do.

  Pierce reached across her to open the carriage door, murmuring a husky apology as his coat sleeve brushed her breasts.

  Isabeau felt the heat of him, even as the cool morning air moved around them. He stepped down from the coach first, his hand extended to help them out.

  She waited for Lila to step down from the carriage, which she managed with grace. Isabeau sometimes had trouble with her own long skirts. Idly, she wondered how many women with long skirts had fallen the three feet or so to the ground out of a carriage.

  She put her first foot onto the iron step, then clutched air as her heel caught in the skirt of her dress and she fell heavily against Pierce.

  "Isabeau," he murmured huskily.

  "And I was just wondering how many times women did that." She laughed at herself. Pierce smiled while Isabeau relished his closeness. After a brief moment she reluctantly dropped her arms. Pierce released her, his fingers lingered just a moment against her waist.

  Megan was last. Grasping the child firmly about the waist, Pierce swung her around several times while she giggled excitedly and clutched his arms.

  When they turned to walk up the steps to the house, an elderly man met them part way. He was dressed in a long green coat with polished silver buttons and was, perhaps, the butler.

  He inclined his graying head as he stepped forward to greet them. "Mr. Morgan, sir?" Stiffly, the man addressed Pierce. "Allow me to escort your party to the house."

  Hoping Lila didn't see such a degree of formality as unnerving, Isabeau smiled reassuringly at her.

  Obediently, they followed the manservant with Pierce bringing up the rear.

  Isabeau looked appreciatively at the lavish array of brilliantly colored daffodils and blood red tulips already in bloom along the walkway.

  As they approached the massive double front doors she was amazed at their height. At least nine feet high with heavy iron hinges, the doors swung inward as they walked up the final steps.

  Lila looked around uncertainly, hesitating on the top step. "Please reserve judgment until you meet the Forresters," Pierce advised Lila quietly, seeing her uneasiness.

  Lila nodded, clutching her daughter's hand as the large doors slowly opened inwards.

  A young girl smiled a welcome as they entered a narrow foyer.

  "Please follow me," the girl requested. They traversed a pretty white and blue mosaic floor, their footsteps echoing through the large house.

  Isabeau, with nothing personally at stake, was becoming more unnerved by the moment. The lavish opulence alone was enough to set her nerves a-jitter. She could well imagine the intimidation Lila might be experiencing.

  The housemaid directed them to wait in a spacious room off the main hallway. After one glance at the white upholstered settee and chairs and the equally white and pristine carpeting underfoot, the unspoken consent was to remain standing.

  "Mama, this is the place where we will meet Grandmama?" Although Megan's voice was hushed, it still echoed overloud in the large room.

  "Yes, darling," Lila replied cautiously, trying to calm her daughter's excitement. "As I explained, we have merely come to make her acquaintance." Untying the ribbons beneath Megan's chin, Lila removed her bonnet.

  "I know Mama, but it would be so nice if I had a Grandmama --" Wistfully, the child's voice trailed off. Lila soothed her, her hand caressing the dark hair.

  Moving to kneel beside Megan, Isabeau placed an arm about the small shoulders, speaking in a conspiratorial whisper. "You know something? You're so lucky! You're meeting your Grandmama for the first time. It's so exciting."

  "Well, we didn't even know we had one," Megan told her matter-of-factly, "until Mr. Hawk found her." She sparkled a smile from liquid brown eyes up to Pierce. "Do you think Grandmama will like us or be mean and nasty like --"

  "Megan." Her mother reproved quickly.

  The child glanced at Isabeau, shrugging and falling silent.

  "How could anyone not like such a one as yourself?" queried a husky voice from the doorway.

  They all turned. A tall, thin woman of many years stood in the arched doorway. She was simply dressed in a pale cream gown with a ruched lace bodice: an oval brooch was her only adornment. Graying blond hair was piled regally atop her head.

  Pierce moved forward to warmly clasp the woman's outstretched hands.

  "Madam, I am pleased to meet with you once more. As you see, I have brought Lila, your daughter-in-law, and Megan your granddaughter." He stepped back and indicated Isabeau. "And may I introduce Isabeau, a friend of Lila's."

  Isabeau smiled at the older woman while Pierce gently pulled Lila and Megan forward.

  "Lila Forrester, I present to you Michelline Forrester of South Carolina, your mother-in-law."

  "Oh -- " Lila faltered, "I thought you must live here. I confess I did not really ask Mr. Morgan."

  Michelline Forrester laughed, a light sound in the enormous room. "Please, my dear. I hope I have more sense than that." Her glance swept the room, clearly amused. "We are here merely for two months." She shivered, then indicated everyone should take a seat close to
the enormous fireplace. "I couldn't abide living in such a monstrosity for much more time than that. My husband Markam and I rented this house at the last minute. His manufacturing company takes him to New York this time of year. At the eleventh hour we managed to secure this place. My home in South Carolina is large, but much cozier."

  Graciously, she indicated they make themselves comfortable. "Julie will be here shortly with refreshments. I'm sure you will enjoy some lemonade or perhaps tea after such a long trip."

  Michelline stared at Megan, who was peeking shyly from under her mother's arm.

  "I am most pleased to make your acquaintance, Megan," Michelline murmured softly, holding out a hand.

  Lila nodded to Megan as the child looked to her for guidance. Smiling, dimples appearing, Megan promptly moved to sit beside her Grandmama, hands folded in her lap as she stared sedately at the older woman.

  "I was afraid you might be mean, like old Mr. Benser. But you're not, you know. I think I should like you for a Grandmama."

  "Megan," Lila said reprovingly.

  "Mr. Benser?" Michelline queried gently.

  "Yes. He was quite unkind to Mama, he made her cry," Megan confided in an overloud whisper behind her hand. "I didn't care for him."

  "Megan," Lila cut in quickly, her face paling, "I'm sure your Grandmama does not wish --"

  Michelline held up her hand. "It is of no importance. I am somewhat acquainted with the man. Suffice it to say, I agree with you Megan. He is not a nice man."

  They all stared at Michelline.

  "Yes, I have met the gentleman, although I use the term 'gentleman' very loosely." Looking at the rapt face of her granddaughter, Michelline leaned down impulsively and hugged the child. "Perhaps your Mama and I will discuss it later."

  Looking dazed, Lila nodded.

  "I am sorry," Michelline apologized, "here I am rattling on, not giving anyone else a chance to utter a word. Lila, I imagine you must have questions."

  Just at that moment the housemaid, Julie, deposited a large tray on the table before them with tea cups and a pitcher of lemonade.

  Putting her own troubled thoughts aside for the moment, Isabeau watched as Michelline Forrester arranged cups. Noticing the fine tremor of her hands, she realized this gracious woman was not as serene as she strived to appear. Perhaps she was just as nervous as Lila.

 

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