A Time To Dream

by Sherry Lewis

  “Don’t force them,” she said softly.

  Zacharias scowled up at her. “I’ll not tolerate rudeness.”

  “They’re not rude, they’re babies.”

  “I’m not a baby,” Mordechai protested, obviously deeply offended. “I’m five.”

  “I didn’t mean real babies,” Shelby assured him quickly. “Of course, you’re not babies. Look how big you are.”

  That seemed to mollify him a little. “Andrew’s a bigger baby than I am.”

  Andrew’s eyes flew wide in horror at that. “Am not.”

  “Are too.” Mordechai dropped to the floor and walked his horse onto the rug. “Even Grandmama says so.”

  Shelby chalked up another reason to dislike Victoria. She didn’t believe in making those kinds of sweeping negative statements to children, and she resented Victoria for making them about Mordechai and Andrew—especially when they could hear.

  Tears pooled in Andrew’s eyes so Shelby did her best to reassure him. “Well, I don’t think you’re a baby. In fact, I’m amazed that you’re so grown-up for five years old.”

  Andrew dashed away his tears angrily. “I am, too.”

  “That’s perfectly obvious for anyone to see,” Shelby assured him. “And I’ll say it to everyone I know.” That made for a very short list, but Andrew didn’t need to know that. She crossed to the carved wooden box that held their toys and perched on the corner. “Do you mind if I sit here for a while and watch you play?”

  Andrew sniffed loudly and worked up a shrug. “I ‘pose it would be all right.”

  Mordechai scowled deeply, exactly like a miniature Zacharias. “You won’t touch anything, will you?”

  Shelby bit back a smile and held up both hands. “I wouldn’t think of it.”

  “Promise?”

  She sketched an X over her heart. “Promise.”

  Mordechai pondered some more. “I guess so,” he said at last. “All right, then.” He turned his attention back to his horse, whinnied, and made the wooden figure rear on its hind legs. Within seconds, they both seemed to forget about her. But Shelby didn’t mind. She enjoyed watching and loved listening to their chatter.

  As always, the question of how Agatha could have deserted them nagged at her. No matter what had happened between her and Zacharias, how could she have walked away from these two boys? How could any mother walk away from a child?

  Jon’s accusation came rushing through 130 years to torment her. Maybe she was obsessed with Agatha’s decision because of the choice her own mother made. She hadn’t thought so when he first suggested it, but she wasn’t so certain now.

  Zacharias stood again and crossed to stand beside her. “I don’t approve of being too permissive.”

  “I don’t approve of being too strict.”

  “I want them to grow up well-mannered.”

  She held his gaze steadily. “I want them to grow up loved and happy.”

  Something flickered in his eyes, but it disappeared too quickly for her to read it. “So do I,” he said, his voice soft. “More than anything.”

  “I want them to live out their lives in Winterhill and Summervale. And to have lots of children and grandchildren so that there’s always someone to inherit, and I want the halls of both houses to ring with laughter.”

  Zacharias glanced away as if he didn’t want her to read his expression. “These houses haven’t heard much laughter in recent years. But perhaps, together, we can change that.”

  “Together?”

  He turned those incredible blue eyes to look at her and took her hands in his. “If you’re still willing.”

  Tears burned her eyes. Hope filled her heart. Joy sang through her veins. In the next breath, everything inside her froze. That future didn’t include her. Zacharias and Agatha would change their lives . . . together.

  It was at once the most beautiful and most horrible word she’d heard in her life.

  Whistling under his breath, Zacharias led the boys up the front steps of Winterhill. Every morning for the past three, he’d gone with the boys to meet Agatha. Every morning for the past three, she’d been warm and caring, kind and loving toward them—certainly kinder than Patricia had ever been—and their reservations were fading as quickly as his own had.

  The change in her mystified him even as it pleased him, and he congratulated himself on making the right decision. He was rapidly drawing closer to approaching her about a total reconciliation.

  The boys darted in and out of his path, nearly tripping him several times. He laughed at their antics, then wagged a finger at them. “Behave now. Grandmama’s probably waiting for us inside.”

  Just as it had when he was a boy, the threat of Victoria’s disapproval wiped the joy from their faces. Andrew straightened his posture; Mordechai frowned. Zacharias gave himself a mental kick for opening his mouth and took pity on them.

  Resting a hand on each of their shoulders, he guided them up the front steps. “Why don’t you two run upstairs and have tea with Jada. I’ll make your excuses to Grandmama.”

  That earned him two eager smiles and put a matching one back on his own face.

  “Really, Papa?” Andrew asked.

  “Really. Tell Jada I sent you so she doesn’t think you’re trying to avoid tea with Grandmama. I’ll take care of the rest.”

  Mordechai threw his arms around Zacharias’s legs and nearly knocked him off balance. Andrew ran up two steps, then caught himself and walked the rest of the way more slowly.

  Zacharias grinned after them, watching them tussle up the stairs, listening to their excited whispers. But when he turned back toward the sitting room, his smile faded. His mother wouldn’t be happy with his decision, but it was time she accepted the new order of things.

  He straightened his cravat and took a deep breath to steel himself, then opened the door. To his surprise, Patricia sat with his mother near the tea table. She sent him a smile so tremulous, an internal warning bell sounded.

  His mother inclined her head slightly. “There you are, Zacharias. You’ve kept us waiting.”

  “I’ve been with the boys,” he said, carefully leaving out any mention of Agatha. “I sent them to the nursery to have tea with Jada.”

  “That’s just as well.” His mother motioned toward a chair. “There are matters we need to discuss.”

  The knot in his stomach twisted a bit tighter. He sat where he could easily see both of them and nodded. “Go ahead.”

  “As you know,” his mother said, her voice stiff, “I am disturbed by your recent behavior.”

  “I’m aware of that. And you are aware that I have no intention of changing.”

  Patricia studied her fingers intently, as if meeting his gaze might damage her somehow.

  His mother’s lips thinned. “I’m afraid, under the circumstances, you will have to.”

  “And what circumstances would those be?”

  “Patricia has come to me this morning with some rather distressing news.” His mother poured tea into a cup and handed it to Patricia with a smile that sent a chill up Zacharias’s spine. “It seems you have again managed to put us all in a difficult situation.”

  The gleam in her eye made him nervous and Patricia’s refusal to look at him made his pulse crawl. “What situation would that be?”

  “Patricia is with child.”

  Everything inside him turned to stone. The room seemed to sweep backward and leave him dangling over a precipice. He tried to tell himself he’d heard wrong, but Patricia’s almost bashful glance at that moment warned him he’d heard right.

  He caught her gaze. “Is this true?”

  “Yes.”

  He flinched as if someone had landed a blow to his stomach, his heart sank as if someone had tied boulders to it, and his mind raced in a thousand directions at once. Agatha’s image formed in his mind, smiling softly, faith shining in her eyes. Faith in him, in their future together, in his love.

  He stood and took a couple of jerky steps toward t
he fireplace. This wasn’t a discussion he wanted to have with his mother present. He glanced at her and the triumph shining in her eyes made him stomach pitch and roll. “Would you leave us alone, Mother?”

  She hesitated, and for a moment he thought she might refuse. But when Patricia sent her a tight-lipped smile, she relented. “Very well. But I expect you to do what’s right this time, Zacharias.”

  What was right? He was married to Agatha. All his hopes for the future centered on putting their marriage back together. It had been months since he’d been with Patricia in that way, but once again he’d callously, selfishly endangered everything. He couldn’t turn his back on Patricia. He wouldn’t turn from his unborn child. But how could he face Agatha with this news?

  When the door clicked shut behind his mother, he let out a long breath. “It’s true?” he asked again, hoping against hope that she’d deny it this time.

  Patricia’s gaze flicked over him quickly, then away. “Yes.”

  “But how? We haven’t been together in months.”

  “It must have happened the last time we were together.”

  He thought back quickly. “But that was three months ago. Why are you only now telling me?”

  “I wasn’t certain until now.” She clasped her hands together on her lap and twisted her fingers. Tears filled her eyes and a wave of sympathy mixed with guilt washed over him.

  “Of course not.” He ground his teeth together and finished his trek to the fireplace. He heard the rustle of her skirts and knew she’d come to stand behind him. “May I ask why you brought the news to my mother instead of to me?”

  “Because I knew you’d be angry.”

  “I’m not angry,” he said, turning to face her. “And I don’t blame you. But I can’t pretend that I’m happy.” He rubbed his forehead and tried to think. “When will the child arrive?”

  “Around Christmas.”

  He closed his eyes and tried desperately to think. It wasn’t easy with Agatha’s face, her smile, and her laugh haunting him. What a mess he’d made of everything.

  Patricia touched his shoulder lightly. “What will we do, Zacharias?”

  “I don’t know,” he admitted.

  “You won’t leave me to have this child out of wedlock, will you?”

  He didn’t answer. He couldn’t. How could he ask that of her? But how could he put Agatha aside now? “What do you want me to do?”

  “I want you to keep your promises.”

  “That seems to be my downfall, doesn’t it?” He met her gaze again, but the look in her eyes hurt him. “If I’d kept the vows I made to Agatha, none of this would have happened.” He spoke more to himself than to Patricia, but she heard him, of course.

  She stiffened and drew her hand away. “You can’t expect me to care about your vows to Agatha.”

  “No. Of course not.”

  “And it’s not as if you love her or she you. It would take so little for you to divorce her and make everything right.”

  A protest so vehement rose to his lips and the truth hit him so squarely, Zacharias could do nothing more than draw a ragged breath. The truth was, he did love Agatha. Try as he might to deny it, the truth remained. And he’d seen love shining in Agatha’s eyes, as well. Just as he saw it now in Patricia’s. But he didn’t return Patricia’s feelings. In truth, he’d never loved her, though he’d certainly pretended to, and his lack of honesty had brought them to this pass.

  Patricia’s eyes narrowed. “You don’t love her,” she said again, and he could hear an almost desperate note in her voice.

  He had only himself to blame for this situation. Only he could make things right. “Yes,” he admitted. “I do.”

  Tears spilled onto her cheeks. He watched them tracing delicate silver patterns but resisted the urge to wipe them away. “I know that hurts you—”

  “Hurts me?” She took a jerky step away. “You’ve destroyed me, Zacharias. You’ve ruined me.” She waved a hand toward her stomach and made a face. “Can you be so callous that you’d take advantage of me and then turn your back on the consequences?”

  Her anger didn’t surprise him. He’d seen it flare before. “Let’s be honest, Patricia. You were as anxious for our association as I was.”

  “Yes, but only because I believed that you loved me.”

  “We never spoke of love,” Zacharias reminded her, but the fire in her eyes warned him to tread carefully.

  “I didn’t think we had to speak of it.” She turned away and put some distance between them. “I love you, Zacharias, and I believed you returned my affection.”

  “I do care for you—”

  She cut him off before he could finish. “Care?” Her voice caught and the fire in her eyes flamed hotter. “You care for me? You came to my bed and took your comfort when you only cared for me?”

  He took a step toward her. “Please, try to understand.”

  She backed away as if he had a contagious disease. “I understand completely, Zacharias. And now it’s time for you to understand. I expect you to keep your promises to me. I expect you to behave like a gentleman and do right by me. I expect you to set aside that crazy woman you’ve been shackled to and marry me as you should have done in the first place.”

  “She’s not crazy.”

  Patricia laughed bitterly. “Isn’t she? You said yourself that she’d lost her mind.”

  “Yes, because I was angry. But she did nothing wrong, Patricia. We were wrong, not her. Never her.”

  “Don’t speak to me of her,” Patricia warned. “Don’t dare use her as an excuse for your ill-bred behavior.”

  “If I could turn back time,” he said wearily, “I’d do it. I’d leave you your integrity and I’d keep my own. But that’s not possible, and the only thing I can do now is move forward and try make something of the mess I’ve created. For what it’s worth, I have no intention of damaging your reputation now.”

  “My reputation isn’t the one at stake.” Her voice rose higher. “If you turn your back on me and reconcile with that . . . that demented shrew, I’ll see that you’re both ruined.”

  Utterly defeated, Zacharias watched her sail toward the door and slam it shut behind her. He didn’t give a damn about his own reputation, but he cared deeply about Agatha’s. And the worst part of it was that if Patricia brought him down, she’d ruin the twins in the process.

  THIRTEEN

  Lifting her skirts carefully, Shelby hurried down the rolling hill toward the boundary between Summervale and Winterhill. She looked forward to the time she spent with Zacharias and the twins each morning, clung to the moments almost frantically, delighted in the stories the boys shared with her and their tiny masculine antics as they battled for her attention and affection.

  No matter how many times she’d warned herself to remain detached, she was fighting a losing battle. Or maybe it would be more honest to say that she’d already lost.

  The boys had won her heart completely, and Zacharias already held it firmly in his grasp. She alternated between fear that she’d be yanked back to the future at any moment and the growing hope that she might actually be here to stay.

  Smiling at the thought, she slipped between the rows of trees and took care to keep her skirts from trailing in the dirt. Once on Winterhill’s grounds, she made her way up the short hill and into the sculpted garden. But before she could reach the footpath that would take her to the pond, a dark-clad figure stepped out from behind a hedge and blocked her way.

  Victoria.

  Shelby slowed her step. She had no choice.

  Victoria raked her gaze over her. “I assume you are aware that you’re trespassing on private property.”

  Good morning to you, too, you old bat. Shelby kept her chin high and smiled. “Apparently, you aren’t aware that I’m here at Zacharias’s invitation.”

  Victoria made a noise of derision. “I’m afraid you’re mistaken. Zacharias doesn’t want you here.”

  “He seems to want me here very muc
h.”

  Victoria waved a hand in dismissal. “He has always been soft-hearted, always taken pity on those less fortunate. Surely, you remember that, if nothing else.”

  Shelby tried to step around Victoria. “I know what you’re trying to do, but it won’t work. You might as well save your breath.”

  Victoria held firm. “What I’m trying to do,” she said with an icy smile, “is to spare you further embarrassment. Zacharias will never make you his wife again.”

  “Really?” Shelby laughed softly. “Perhaps you should ask him about that before you say more.”

  Victoria’s eyes narrowed. “He might find it mildly amusing to toy with you for a while, but it will never last. In fact, he has been making plans this morning to end your marriage.”

  Shelby’s heart stopped. She swore it did. She willed it to start beating again and clenched her hands hard enough to make her nails bite into her palms through her gloves. She wanted to shout that Victoria was lying. She longed to force the creepy old woman to admit the truth. But she couldn’t make herself speak.

  What if Victoria was telling the truth? What if Zacharias was pretending, hoping to throw her off-balance long enough to secure a divorce? She didn’t want to believe it of him, but she’d seen the anger in his eyes in the beginning. Though it had faded over the past three weeks, she couldn’t be certain that what she saw now was genuine.

  She shook her head, slowly at first, then with more conviction. “I don’t believe you.”

  Victoria seized on her uncertainty like a dog with a bone. “Spare yourself further humiliation, Agatha. Go back to Summervale and stay there.”

  “Zacharias wouldn’t humiliate me,” Shelby insisted. “Whether you like it or not, he loves me.”

  Victoria laughed, and the sound sent chills up Shelby’s spine. “Zacharias doesn’t love you, you foolish woman. How could he?”