"We got in late. I should have left you a note."
"I'll come back." Elise wanted to smack herself. She felt like a young girl seeing her first naked man. Except right now all she'd seen was his chest and she felt like the wind had been knocked out of her. "I was going to change the linens."
When he put his bare legs over the side of the bed, Elise turned and left the room.
"I'll come back later," she said, closing the door. He'd acted as if it wasn't unusual to get out of bed, naked, with a woman in the room. Don't think about it, she admonished herself. Don't think about him in there naked.
Now, Elise scattered the last of the corn across the yard for the chickens. It was gloomy and overcast. The sun had not shown itself since the day before. The weather seemed to mirror her present mood.
Three days had passed since she had entered the Remington household. Not quite sure what she expected, Elise was pleasantly surprised to discover Darien and Rufus lived a relatively quiet existence. Their lives seemed uncluttered by the rowdy partying and crowds she remembered in her father's household during her childhood.
During her growing years, her father had been given to lavish entertainment. Indeed, Rogier Lancaster's houseguests had often stayed at their home for weeks at a time. He had provided hunting, and for the less ambitious, there were card games and the ever present gambling tables. There were also a variety of other delights which his city guests fancied, as Elise discovered one night.
On the occasions when the house was full of guests, Elise had not been allowed below stairs after the night meal. Up until about the age of fourteen, Elise had not thought to question her father's dictate.
But on one occasion, sometime after she had turned fourteen and was feeling particularly rebellious, Elise decided she was old enough to begin joining her father and his friends after the meal. Without informing anyone of her intent, one night Elise deliberately left her room and went to join her father's guests.
She heard music and laughter as she descended the stairway, and strangely, her limbs began to tremble the closer she came to the lower level of the house.
The noise and revelry seemed to indicate a good time was being had by all.
#
Elise dusted the last of the milled corn from her palms, fluffing the drab brown apron free of dust as she turned to follow the small stone path leading to the rose garden.
She sat on the sun faded garden seat, then leaned back as the memories washed over her, the music sweet and haunting, as clear as if it had been only yesterday.
There were many people in the banquet hall, Elise could hear their laughter. She was too inexperienced to recognize the desperation lurking in their overly loud laughter . . . overindulgence coupled with lives too full of idle pursuits.
As she pushed the heavy banquet door open, it was pulled inward by another hand, throwing her off balance into the room. A man stood in the opening, holding the door as he swayed slightly, his face full of glee as he spotted Elise.
She thought him quite handsome, even though his eyes seemed not quite focused, and not much older than herself. He had curly black hair and was dressed in the height of fashion.
Tentatively, Elise had smiled. The man smiled back, his expression sharpening with interest.
"Come in, my dear," he whispered, displaying an endearing, lopsided smile. Before Elise could respond, his hand sought hers, pulling her urgently forward. Familiarly, his arm dropped like a heavy weight across her shoulders. "Come, come, partake of the feast our host has provided." The man indicated tables laden with food.
As Elise looked around, the young gentleman began to nuzzle at her neck. Uneasy, Elise jerked away. He released her, a hurt look on his handsome face.
"Come now, be a bit more friendly. I'm a nice bloke, you can ask any of the other girls."
It was then that Elise, for all her naiveté, knew she had made a mistake. The tempo of the music changed, became fast and erratic, an accompaniment for the fear which now clutched at her.
Elise stepped back toward the door as several men moved toward her. Elise realized she had to get out of there. Fearfully, she looked for her father, but she did not see him anywhere.
Elise turned to flee, but found a man deliberately blocking the door. With a laugh, he lifted a goblet to his lips, his eyes dark and, to Elise, filled with menace.
She turned to find several men had surrounded her in a circle.
With growing desperation, she turned fully around. There was nowhere to go.
She looked for help, saw a woman standing on a table, removing her clothes piece by piece to the accompaniment of whistles and cheers.
Belatedly, Elise realized the room was almost entirely made up of men, with the exception of a handful of young girls, dressed quite scantily and sporting heavy makeup.
"Come on," urged one of the men behind her, "you can choose who shall partner you."
She shook her head. "No, I must leave. I should not have come --"
"Here now, there is no call for teasing."
The young man grabbed her arms and Elise pulled back, feeling herself grabbed from behind. Those hands spun her toward the young man, into his opened arms. With a semi-intoxicated laugh, the young man bent his head toward her. Panic-stricken, Elise pushed a hand up and the heel of her hand connected bluntly with his nose.
Mesmerized, Elise watched the blood spurt and then dapple the pristine whiteness of his shirt front.
The man drew back in astonishment, staring at the blood and then Elise, a primitive anger beginning to mottle his cheekbones.
"You like it rough, my sweet? I can oblige." As she opened her mouth to scream, a hand clamped over her mouth and throat.
Panicked, Elise felt consciousness begin to recede.
In the next instant, the hand was removed from her mouth and she was lifted and taken from the room.
Elise began to struggle, kicking and screaming. Abruptly, with a sound of disgust from the man holding her, she was dropped to her feet.
Standing with clenched fists, she opened her mouth, then closed it, staring in confusion at the hall where she now stood. The door to the banquet hall was closed, and before her stood a blond haired boy.
Somehow he had gotten her out of the room, away from those hateful men.
He was the son of the local tavern owner come to deliver more ale.
Elise had seen him on other occasions, although they had never spoken. She later discovered his name was Darien. . ..
"Tell me, 'Lise, what affords you amusement on such a dreary day?"
Elise focused on the present. Darien stood before her, an incredibly attractive man. Forever lost was the boy of seventeen.
Chapter Seven
Elise smiled. "I was feeding the chickens."
He wore buckskin the color of warm honey on his long, muscular legs and dusty black boots were molded to his lower leg to just above the knee. A lackluster day, the air hung heavy around them. His forest green shirt lay open at the neck, his throat lightly tanned.
From one large hand hung several sapping buckets, which he now bent to place on the ground. Elise felt something akin to pain, still caught in memories of the past, wondering . . . wondering.
Women in her present time would flock to a man such as he. . . Elise herself felt helpless against the sexual attraction he exuded. No other man, past or present had ever drawn such feelings from her. It had always been this way. Deliberately, Elise pushed thoughts of the Hellhound to the back of her mind. Surely one moment of attraction did not count.
Self-consciously, Elise touched a hand to the braid atop her head. "I thought I would sit a moment."
One corner of Darien's mouth turned up in a smile. "I'm not questioning the commitment to your duties. I merely was curious as to what amused you."
Elise felt surprised; she couldn't pretend otherwise. Darien had more or less kept his distance since she had moved into his home. Could he be accepting her new role in his household?
&n
bsp; Taking a deep breath, Elise met his eyes, aware of the reaction in her lower limbs. A wanton, melting need rose, curling her toes inside her boots, making her fingers clutch agitatedly at the fabric of her skirt.
Shaking herself mentally, Elise said, "I recalled our first real meeting."
Darien looked taken aback. "How could that afford amusement? As I recall, you were shaking in your boots and ready to rain blasphemies on my head."
Elise relaxed. "You recall correctly -- except that I didn't know any swear words at the time."
"And now I suppose you do?" He queried with interest.
"If the occasion warrants it," Elise admitted candidly, lifting a shoulder.
"You have changed, Elise -- I do not know you."
"We all change. I grew up, as did you. It is a natural process of life. We're strangers."
He took a step nearer, then stopped, his eyes darkening as different emotions fought for supremacy. She picked up on his wariness. "We must speak of this thing between us." His mouth tightened. Elise wondered if he were angry at her or at himself for the words which made no secret of his curiosity.
Elise's heart beat hard and fast, but she managed to say calmly, "Where should we begin?"
"Our past history puts a strain on our current relationship, such as it is." His eyes locked with hers. "Surely you can't deny this tension between us?"
Elise ignored the palpitations turning her fingers to ice.
"What type of relationship is it you want, Darien? Surely our association now cannot be termed anything other than that of employer and employee?"
Elise surmised her coolness irritated him. He ran hand through his hair, staring at her hard. Elise doubted he could read her so easily as when she'd been fifteen. Did he think her wanton, playing him along?
"I'm not much different from the Elise you knew back then."
He laughed without humor. "Damnation, 'Lise, no matter how cool and civilized we try to appear, I cannot banish the memories so easily." He turned away as if in great frustration.
Elise didn't know what to say. She watched as he stared at the mountains, fists clenched against his thighs. He turned back, the green of his eyes deep and darkly intense.
"Why did you leave, 'Lise?" he rasped. "What drove you away that night?"
"It is complicated, Darien." She put up her hand as he moved to speak. "Please, explanations will be difficult at best. We have to have this out rationally, without anger or judgment between us. It's too easy to say things in the heat of anger, and so hard to take them back."
"What is complicated? You left, I was sent away, and now you return."
"There is so much pain to be forgiven, not an easy thing. Neither of us know anything about the years in between."
"I will not dispute there is no going back, but I cannot help but wonder if you had stayed, how our lives would have been changed."
"Elise!" a male voice called out angrily.
The interruption was not welcome. Turning, Elise felt her entire body stiffen in protest as her father strode toward them, the very air around him seeming to bristle with antagonism as his glance flitted between them.
"You are trespassing," Darien said warningly.
"Quite a cozy scene -- but I confess it conjures unpleasant memories. Damnation! What is this I hear -- my own daughter a common housekeeper? I'll not suffer it. Have you any notion of the harm you bring to the Lancaster name, much less your own reputation? I demand that you cease this nonsense at once."
Elise's hackles rose. He acted as if she were still a child.
"I've done nothing to be ashamed of," she retorted mildly, throwing back her head. As a child, Elise would not have dared to speak to him in such a way.
"Elise, you are my daughter -- you will not take that tack with me. You should have come home with me when I first bid you to do so, not settled in with that witch. Now you live commonly with two men, whose reputations are in doubt. And Remington here has a fiancé. I question your judgment, Daughter. What are you thinking?"
"That's just it, Father. I am thinking -- for myself. I don't need a man to tell me what to do, how to live. If I choose to live this way, and incidentally, there is no shame in working as housekeeper, then it's my decision. Not Darien's, not yours. It is none of your business."
Elise knew she was being incredibly rude, but she had discovered long ago there was no way to deal with her father other than with the blunt truth.
"I cannot credit the manner in which you speak. Already their influence is loosening your tongue. You do not belong here with these fisherman --"
Darien put a hand to his chest in mock alarm. "Never have I been called a fisherman in such a tone."
Rogier ignored him, his steely eyed gaze on his daughter.
"I insist you come home with me, daughter, where you belong. Do not create any talk for this one's appetite."
"Sir, you know nothing of my appetites," drawled Darien.
Avoiding Darien's eyes, Elise cleared her throat. "I'll do as I please. Now, if you have nothing further to speak to me about, I have duties I must see to."
"Elise." Her father's voice was harsh, the hand which latched onto her wrist painfully tight. "How can you turn your back in this manner? Has this one poisoned you to such an extent, you would ignore all else? Did you learn nothing these twenty years past?"
Elise looked at him with raised brows.
"It's amazing that you'd bring up the past, Father. What I may or may not have learned these twenty-four years past is my business. Tell me, Father, is the past something you really wish to discuss?" Elise was prepared to give him no quarter, her question demanded an answer. "Shall we have it out here and now about the past?"
Rogier cleared his throat, protested, "Elise, I really must protest the airing of such private matters."
"Mandine told me what you were about, that night twenty four-years ago."
"What are you saying?"
Elise nodded. "I am talking about your real intent on that night."
"My intent was to bring my daughter home, where she belonged," he said smoothly.
"That's not what Mandine saw about that night."
"You would believe her before your father?"
"She never lied to me."
Now her father's expression turned to complacency. "Are you sure of that?"
Elise was in no mood for this today. Her father could always parry any question or logic she might raise.
"Rest easy, Father, I no longer desire to discuss this matter."
"I demand that you come with me now, Elise."
Wearily, Elise said, "For the last time, no."
"And I suppose if these brothers go off to sea, you will throw all propriety to the wind and follow like an obedient servant?" His raging followed her as she walked toward the house, his disgust evident.
Elise came to a dead stop. Half turning, a certain challenging light entered her eyes as she tossed Darien a grin.
"Well, I most certainly will, if I am asked to go. It would be an exciting adventure, to travel by sea."
For the first time that Elise could ever recall, her father seemed speechless.
A slight sound caught her attention, and Elise turned back to Darien, then realized he was trying not to give in to amusement.
"I must say, Lancaster," said Darien with a huge grin, "this visit with your daughter seems to leave you in less than an amiable frame of mind."
Whatever Rogier snarled beneath his breath Elise did not hear. He adjusted the belt at his waist and turned his back on Elise as if dismissing her from his mind. Lifting her chin, Elise ignored the slight.
"You might do well to laugh, Remington." He threw Elise a warning glance. "I shall return," he promised, "and I will not take no for an answer. You shall come back to your home." He cast a malevolent glance at Darien. "When that dog from Hell starts cutting into your hard-earned trade, Remington, it will be a different tale, I'm sure."
"The Hellhound?" Queried Darien with interest
.
"The very one. He has raided my supplies these three nights past. I am not the only one. Up the Eastkill Valley there has been talk of a double murder he committed."
"I have never heard of him harming anyone," Darien remarked mildly.
"He is a murdering thief, intent on his own gain. I will celebrate the day I catch him. When it is done, he will swing from a rope, I promise you."
Elise was chilled by the malice in his voice. He had a personal vendetta against the Hellhound.
Elise knew her face had paled and her hands trembled so that she hid them in the folds of her apron as she hurried back toward the house.
"Elise!" Elise ignored Darien also, knowing she could not hide her obvious distress. She felt tremendous upheaval at the loathing in her father's words.
#
"Lancaster," Darien bowed with mock politeness to the older man, "I too will take my leave. I must instruct 'Lise in matters relating to my household."
Rogier looked ready to burst. His thin face became mottled, the cheekbones stained with splotches of red, his deepset eyes ringed with white.
"Do not think you have won, Remington," Rogier hissed, "for when I am done with hunting the Hellhound, I will come for you."
Darien uttered a harsh laugh as he stepped forward, the bulk of him a mere six inches from the other man. Rogier Lancaster took an uncertain step back.
"Come after me, old man," Darien snarled, all traces of amusement wiped away, "you tried it before and it netted you nothing. You lost your daughter. Now there is nothing but your wealth to carry with you into old age, for surely there are none who truly care about you. Your just desserts are yet to be delivered."
"Do you threaten me?"
A grin slashed Darien's lips and he crooked one brow.
"Not I. I leave that to you and your ilk."
#
Elise finished her duties for the day. She opened the back door, walked toward the garden, a restlessness biting at her heels. She felt there was something more she should be doing -- yet, what? She could not compel Darien to fall in love with her, to care once more about her. Could it be that he had never loved her, but had suffered from an infatuation all those years ago? After all was said and done, they had been mere children. And what if he did fall in love with her again? Were they to remain in this time? It would break her heart to never see her daughter again. Elise touched the small vial Mandine had given her. How to use it?
Time Travel Romance Collection Page 40