by Sherry Lewis
He touched her lips with his tongue and groaned with pleasure when she opened hers to welcome him. All the years of hurt, all the angry words, all the distrust faded to nothing.
They could face anything, as long as they were together.
FIFTEEN
The night of the ball, Shelby stood against one wall and watched the crowded dance floor. Gowns of satin, silk, and brocade swirled endlessly in front of her. Music drifted from the orchestra loft, punctuated by laughter and conversation.
So far, so good. She’d done her best to ignore the curious stares and whispered speculation behind raised fans. She’d done her best not to care, to keep her smile pasted in place, to keep her chin up and her shoulders back.
Zacharias had been wonderfully attentive all evening, but seeing Patricia Starling for the first time and realizing how incredibly lovely she was had brought all the feelings of inadequacy that had plagued her since childhood rushing back.
Shelby would have felt much more confident if Patricia had been a snaggle-toothed, knotty-haired woman with three eyes instead of a porcelain doll. Every once in a while, when she saw Patricia swirl past in the arms of a partner, or when she heard her laugh tinkling clear as a bell, she wondered if Zacharias would really be able to resist her.
Trying to put her doubts aside, needing a moment to pull herself together, Shelby dodged behind a potted plant. To her dismay, instead of the solitude she longed for, she found herself face-to-face with the one woman she least wanted to see.
Patricia Starling.
She was even more beautiful close-up. Cute little button nose, big blue eyes, perfect wheat-colored hair piled high on her head and cascading in ringlets to her smooth shoulders. Straight, even teeth, and breasts that rose out of her neckline like silicone implants.
Even in Agatha’s body, Shelby felt like a runner-up.
Patricia seemed almost as surprised at the encounter as Shelby, but she recovered quickly and sent her a doe-eyed look. “Good evening, Agatha.”
“Patricia.”
“How lovely to see you again.”
Shelby believed that like she believed in the Easter Bunny, but she did her best to smile. “Thank you.”
Patricia flicked open her fan and waved it slowly in front of her perfect face. “You and Zacharias are creating quite a stir this evening.”
Shelby forced herself not to look away, even though looking into her face made her think of Zacharias making love to her, and it was a mental image she didn’t want. She tried to ignore the sudden flare of jealousy. “I’m sure we must be. But I’m equally certain people will soon get used to the idea that our marriage is on firm ground.”
“Is it?”
“Yes.” No thanks to you.
Patricia let her gaze travel over the couples swirling together on the dance floor. “Then perhaps they will get used to it—in time.”
Even her voice was perfect. Not too high, not too low, not breathless or childish. Shelby said a silent prayer of gratitude that she didn’t have to face this woman in her own medusa-haired body. “No doubt some new scandal will come along to divert their attention.”
Patricia didn’t acknowledge by so much as a faint blush that she might easily provide that scandal. “I’m sure you’re right,” she said, letting her gaze travel the length of Shelby as if she saw something distasteful. “Still, I suppose they’ll all be a-buzz with it for a little while. And you really can’t blame them. You have been rather . . . aloof for the past few years.”
“Yes.” Shelby flicked open her fan and used it to stir the rancid air between them. “But that’s all changed now.”
“How nice. At least for as long as Zacharias remains at your side. I’m sure Victoria is thrilled by your reconciliation.”
Shelby had never been good at insincere conversation. Patricia was obviously a master. Her air of confidence and her apparent certainty that she would walk away with Zacharias made Shelby livid. “I’m not worried about how Victoria feels.”
“Perhaps you should. She can be a formidable opponent. When she decides she wants something, she’ll do whatever it takes to get it.”
“Maybe,” Shelby said slowly, “but I am equally determined to keep my family together.”
“Perhaps the choice won’t be yours to make,” Patricia suggested.
Shelby forced a chilly smile. “Then I consider myself fortunate that Zacharias is equally determined not to let anyone come between us.”
Patricia looked out over the dance floor, found Zacharias deep in conversation with a group of men, and betrayed her first sign of agitation. “You seem quite assured that you’re headed for a fairy-tale ending.”
“I’m well aware that there’s no such thing,” Shelby assured her. “But I also know that trust and honesty are as essential as love to making a marriage work. And, since Zacharias has been completely honest with me about the obstacles in our way, I am assured that we’ll be able to face them together.”
Patricia lifted her chin almost imperceptibly, but she gave no other sign that Shelby’s words had found their mark. “I’m well aware of how you feel about honesty, Agatha. You’ve made yourself quite clear in the past.”
“Maybe I once believed in secrets,” Shelby said firmly, “but no longer. Now, I’d like nothing more than to have them all exposed to the light of day.”
Patricia’s gaze flicked over her rapidly. “You would expose everything?” She laughed coldly. “Somehow I find that hard to believe.”
“Would you like to try me?” Shelby’s hands trembled with anger, but she refused to back down. “Maybe we could persuade Dr. Messing to confirm or deny the most recent threat to Zacharias’s peace of mind.”
Patricia’s demeanor faltered, but only for a moment. “I’m sure Dr. Messing would be happy to offer his opinion about your mental stability.”
“That wasn’t the threat I had in mind.” Shelby took a step toward her, so angry she could have chewed nails and spit them out again, but she forced her voice lower. “I’m not going to roll over and play dead this time, Patricia. I’m not going to run away while you and Victoria try to destroy my family. And I’m certainly not going to let you waltz into Andrew and Mordechai’s lives and pretend to love them just so you can share Zacharias’s bed without fear for your reputation.”
With a confidence she didn’t feel, she turned her back on Patricia and rejoined the others. Only after she’d put some distance between them did she acknowledge the trembling of her limbs, the numbness in her knees and legs.
She’d thrown down the gauntlet. She’d issued a declaration of war. And she had a sick feeling she wouldn’t have to wait long to find out how the enemy would respond.
Shelby took Zacharias’s hand to alight from the carriage and let it linger there. After her conversation with Patricia, the rest of the evening had gone perfectly. The scent of magnolias and jasmine filled the air. The silence of the night was unbroken by anything but the soft clip-clop of the horse’s hooves as his driver led the carriage a discreet few feet away.
Zacharias put an arm around her waist and led her toward the front door. “Did you enjoy yourself?”
“Mm-hmm.” Shelby leaned against his shoulder and smiled up at him. “So much it was positively wicked. Did you?”
He grinned at her. “Holding you in my arms as we danced and showing you off to all those old buzzards was the most fun I’ve had in ages.”
Shelby’s heart turned over and a slow warmth crept through her. “For me, too.”
Zacharias slowed his step and turned her to face him. “You are so incredibly beautiful. Have I told you that lately?”
Shelby laughed softly. “Not in the last ten minutes.”
“Then I’ve been remiss.” He wrapped both arms around her and pulled her close. “You are incredibly beautiful. Breathtakingly beautiful.” As if to prove it, he lowered his lips to hers and stole her next breath.
The moonlight, the scent of him so close, the feel of his arms aroun
d her, were all too much. Shelby melted against him and surrendered herself to the kiss. It wasn’t smart, she told herself, but she couldn’t deny herself the pleasure.
Zacharias tightened his embrace and worked magic on her lips, her body, her soul. She felt so right snuggled here against his chest, wrapped in his arms, she gave herself to the moment. She didn’t care about the future. She only knew that at this moment she belonged right here.
He ended the kiss, but he didn’t release her. Instead, he trailed kisses up her cheek, pressed his lips to her temple, and whispered against her skin. “Agatha.” It was little more than a sigh, but it brought Shelby back to her senses with a resounding crash.
Agatha.
She’d never imagined that she could fall in love with someone who belonged to another. Never in her wildest dreams. She had no right to his kiss, his embrace, his love. But it was so hard to turn away. “I should go up to bed. It’s getting late.”
Zacharias pulled her into his arms again and nuzzled her cheek softly. “I could go with you.”
Every cell in her body screamed for her to say yes. Every inch of her heart longed to take his hand and run up the stairs. And some convoluted piece of logic told her she wouldn’t be wrong to do it. After all, this was Agatha’s body. There would be nothing wrong with Agatha making love to her husband.
Except that Agatha wasn’t here and Shelby knew that making love to Zacharias would be much more than a joining of bodies; it would be a sharing of souls. And for that reason, she couldn’t say yes.
She forced herself to resist the almost overwhelming physical need. She didn’t want to leave him without hope and lose him for Agatha completely. “Soon,” she promised.
“But not tonight?” His breath tickled her ear and sent another coil of desire spiraling through her.
“I think we should wait a few days longer.”
This time, he stepped away. “Why? I love you, Agatha. And you love me, don’t you?”
“More than you can imagine.”
“Then why? We are married, you know.”
Shelby thought frantically for a way to hold him at arms’ length. What could she possibly say that wouldn’t ruin everything? If only. . .
She caught her lip between her teeth and held back a smile. There was one way that would probably make him have second thoughts. “It would be . . . inconvenient tonight.” She sent him a wide-eyed look that she hoped conveyed the rest that a woman of the 1800s would never say. Or at least she didn’t think she’d say. Maybe the women were more open about their monthly cycles than the history books indicated. “If you can be patient for another three or four days, I’m sure I’ll be back to normal by then.”
Zacharias looked confused for a second, then his eyes widened slightly and a flush climbed his cheeks. “Oh, yes. I see. Of course.” He walked toward the wicker chair and snagged up his hat. “Yes.”
Shelby tried not to laugh at his obvious discomfort, but really, men were so silly about something that was perfectly natural. Even in her own time, with television and magazine ads hitting them in the face all day, some men still got embarrassed when women discussed that subject.
Zacharias brushed another kiss to her forehead. “If you promise I won’t have to wait long, I’ll content myself with this.” He trailed his lips to her mouth again. “And this.”
Shelby’s resolve nearly disintegrated at the silky touch of his tongue against her lips and the heavenly brush of his fingertips against her breasts.
Just as she was about to toss principles to the wind, he released her and opened the door. “Until tomorrow?”
The evening breeze teased her feverish skin. The moonlight traced his outline and made her long to run after him and tell him she’d changed her mind. Instead, she nodded mutely and watched him walk away. But she knew this night would be one of the longest of her life.
Meg stood at the bottom of the stairs, waiting, forcing herself not to run to the window to see what was going on outside. Agatha and Zacharias had been out there for an awfully long time, and Meg just hoped that meant things were progressing as they should.
Everything was in readiness. She’d put fresh sheets on Agatha’s bed, filled the room with candles and flowers. She’d even laid out Agatha’s most provocative nightgown, but if things went according to plan, Agatha wouldn’t need it.
She waited a few minutes longer, but when they still didn’t come inside, curiosity got the best of her. She crossed to the door, leaned her ear against it, and strained to hear voices. She couldn’t hear anything at all. Moving to the window, she nudged back the curtain just far enough to see outside.
When she saw Agatha and Zacharias locked in an embrace so passionate it nearly took her breath away, it was all Meg could do not to cheer aloud. Grinning, she hurried back toward the stairs and waited.
It seemed to take forever for the door to open, but when it did, Meg put on a serious, noncommittal expression. It would never do for them to think she’d been spying on them.
To her dismay, Agatha came in alone and she heard the unmistakable sound of the carriage driving away. Stunned, Meg took Shelby’s wrap and followed her up the stairs. “Where is he?”
“On his way home.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s late and I need to go to bed.”
Meg scowled at the door. “What’s wrong with him? He should have found it impossible to leave you.”
“He wanted to come in with me,” Agatha said, trailing her fingers along the bannister. “I sent him away.”
Meg stopped with one foot poised to hit the landing. “You did what?”
“I sent him away.” Agatha laughed at the look on her face. “Oh, don’t worry, Meg. I haven’t ruined anything.”
“You hope you haven’t.” Meg shook her head in disbelief and wished she could shake some sense into the missus. “After everything you’ve done to win him over, what good do you think will come from turning him away?”
“Believe me,” Agatha said, “it really was necessary.” Agatha sent her an unreadable glance. “It’s my time.”
Meg warned herself not to overstep her bounds, but really! If anyone knew the truth about that, Meg certainly did. “Even during the worst of times you’ve never lied to me before. And I don’t understand why you’d start now.”
Agatha’s smile evaporated and her eyes rounded. “I’m sorry, Meg. I forget that you know as much about me as I do.”
“I know enough to know it isn’t your time,” Meg said sharply. “And I’ll bet Zacharias knows it, too. You’ve used that same excuse often enough in the past.”
“I have?” Agatha let out a weighty sigh and cast a glance behind her. “Great. Then, maybe I have ruined everything.”
Her obvious distress made Meg feel marginally better. “So, why did you send him away?”
Agatha’s shoulders sagged and her step slowed. “I had to, Meg. Believe me.”
“You didn’t have to do any such thing.” Meg straightened the shawl over her arm. “You haven’t been leading him on, have you? Making him think you’ll change your mind about the private areas of your marriage when you have no intention of following through?”
“No. Of course not. At least not intentionally.”
“Then why?”
Agatha moved to the window seat and sat down on it with a thump. “Oh, Meg, I’m so confused. I don’t know what I’m doing.”
Meg could have told her that. But she refrained. “Then send Colin to intercept him before he gets home. Get him back here and put your marriage back on track while you still can.”
“I can’t.” Agatha’s eyes filled with tears. She wiped them away with her fingertips and sighed again. “I can’t.”
“I don’t know why not. He’s your husband, isn’t he?”
“That’s the problem.” Agatha turned her watery eyes on Meg. “Oh, Meg, I so desperately need someone to talk to. Someone I can confide in.”
“I’m here, Madame. You’ve always
confided in me.” And that was true, Meg assured herself, at least as much as Agatha ever confided in anyone.
“If I tell you something, something completely unbelievable, will you think I’m crazy?”
“Of course not.”
Agatha patted the window seat beside her. “Then sit here with me and let me try.”
Meg’s irritation faded a bit more. Though she was uncomfortable sitting beside Agatha, she did as she was bid. The child obviously needed her help, and Meg was willing to do whatever it took to set things right again. “What is it, dear heart? What’s wrong?”
The childhood endearment seemed touched Agatha deeply. The tears ran a little faster and she shuddered with those still unshed. “I warn you, Meg, it sounds crazy.”
“Don’t you worry about how it sounds. I’ve heard just about everything after a lifetime with Colin, so just get it off your chest.”
“You haven’t heard anything like this,” Agatha warned. She took a long, deep breath, shot a glance at Meg, and blurted, “The truth is, I’m not really Agatha.”
Lord above. Meg gripped the edge of the window seat to steady herself. Not really Agatha? The missus really had lost her mind.
“You don’t believe me.”
“Of course I do,” Meg said quickly, suddenly terrified of saying the wrong thing and setting her off. “Of course, I do.”
“No, you don’t. You think I’m crazy, and I don’t blame you. I told you it sounds demented.”
“Well, now, Madame,” Meg said, struggling to keep a smile in place and a soothing note in her voice. “If you aren’t Agatha, who are you?”
“My name is Shelby Miller, but I’m in Agatha’s body. That’s why you can’t tell.”
“In her body?” Meg said a hasty prayer and resisted the urge to stand up and put some distance between her and the missus.
“Yes. I’m from the turn of the century—the next century. I was zapped here one day while I was trying to figure out how to save the twin houses from being demolished.”