A Stolen Season

by Gill, Tamara

  The car pulled up in the Earnston Estate driveway, and Sarah’s gaze moved over the house and land as she stepped from the vehicle. Not much had changed over the passing years.

  Oh, the trees were bigger, of course. There were obviously different plants in the garden beds surrounding the home, but the building was much as she knew it. Handsome and welcoming, just like its fifth earl. The maze where she had stood, pouring out her heart in vain, was still there, too.

  Grief as severe as she’d ever known it tore at her heart. She missed him.

  What was she doing here without him? Wiping her eyes, she tried to gain some semblance of control. She really could not mourn like this forever, could she? Probably yes, she conceded. At this present moment in time, she couldn’t see any light at the end of the tunnel, and it was looking to be a bloody long tunnel.

  As she followed her father up the front steps, she walked through the home’s grand oak doors and scanned the foyer. Everything was almost as it was when she left it. The wallpaper was slightly aged, and the carpet looked a little the worse for wear but otherwise, everything was frighteningly familiar.

  Her heart squeezed. This beloved house was so familiar and comforting to her soul. A small smile lifted her lips as she found her feet silently moving toward the library.

  Ignoring her father’s banter with the tour guide, she opened the doors. The library was unchanged. The chairs were in their same positions before the hearth, which dominated the centre of the room. Eric’s desk still stood proud in front of the windows. She walked up to it, running her hand over the leathered top. She could almost imagine Eric sitting behind his desk, looking up at her when she entered, bestowing that lovable, mischievous grin she adored so much.

  She frowned down at the golden quill — the very one she had used to write the letter she’d left for him. A letter where she had begged for forgiveness and apologized for all her wrong doings. The family seal lay dry, with a slight film of dust. She picked it up, craving to hold anything she knew Eric had used numerous times. It was all so confusing and painful.

  And why was there no family living here? What had happened to Eric? She chastised herself for wallowing in self-pity instead of finding out what had become of him and his family. Still clasping the blotter so hard her knuckles were white from her tight hold, she looked up at her father as he entered the room.

  “What the hell is going on? Why did you bring me here when you knew what I’ve been going through these past weeks?” Sarah put down her precious link with Eric and leaned against the desk for support. “Where is his family? Why is there no earl in residence? This place looks like a shrine,” she all but shouted, her voice wobbling alarmingly. She clapped her hand over her mouth knowing she was near hysterical. “Please tell me what has happened, I need to know.”

  Her father held up his hand to stop the multitude of questions. “I’m sorry, darling, for bringing you here. I thought it might be hard for you but I needed to see for myself how the memories would affect you.”

  Sarah frowned and looked across at him, thoroughly confused.

  “I have to apologize if I’ve been angry at you of late. Some very big changes occurred while you were away. I didn’t want to do this, Sarah, and you must know it breaks my heart to see you like this.”

  “Couldn’t you have told me this at the office or home?” The tears blurred her vision, almost completely distorting her father from her vision. She heard him walk toward her, before he took her in his arms, rubbing her back comfortingly.

  “Hush now, Sarah. I need to show you something. I’ve booked the estate today so we won’t be interrupted. Come, sit down and I’ll explain.”

  They sat in the leather chairs facing the unlit hearth. It was the most bizarre thing Sarah had ever done. It was as if she could still smell Eric’s scent within the room. She blew her nose while waiting for her father to begin.

  “I’ve been angry because although I don’t know what exactly happened to you in 1818, I most certainly know the basic facts. I know how attached you and Lord Earnston became. And if family letters I’ve read are any indication, he was on the verge of proposing. To be frank, I was extremely furious at your lack of restraint and unethical work practices while you were away.” He looked away, staring into space.

  “But,” he sighed, “I understand what happens when you fall in love. And I cannot for the life of me criticize you for what I have always tried to instill in you.”

  When lightning strikes you should always follow your heart, not your head.

  She’d heard the words a thousand times.

  “So I can’t now, after twenty-four years, turn around and change my mind. No matter what the company rules are,” he said, chuckling wryly. “Do you forgive your Dad?”

  What was to forgive? Reaching across, she clasped his hands in hers. “Of course I do, always, you know that.”

  He squeezed hers in response. “Research has brought to light some very important circumstances for this family, which occurred not long after you left. Some of these are new to history, thanks to your trip,” he said, pointedly raising an eyebrow. “And all of them you need to know about, no matter how painful.” He sat back in his chair, his gaze never wavering.

  Sarah sat silent, as apprehension settled over her. Wound up as tight as a spring, her hands started to sweat.

  “Lord Earnston married a woman named Lady Patricia Meyers not long after you left. Within two months of the marriage, both the new countess and his mother, the dowager countess, were killed in a carriage accident just north of here.”

  Poor Eric, he had lost her, then two members of his immediate family. And she had not been there for him. She may never have been on good terms with either woman, but she wished death upon no one. Eric’s mother would not have been fifty-five, she mused, and as for Patricia, she was younger than Sarah herself was now.

  “From paper records, family letters, and so on, I gather Eric lived fairly hard and fast for many years. He never remarried, gambled heavily for a time but pulled himself out of that, which was something, I suppose.”

  Sarah half smiled at her father’s distaste over gamblers and their wicked ways, or whatever he thought. Sarah, however, put Eric’s hard and fast living down to his grief.

  “He wasn’t seen much in society after 1819 and pretty much kept to himself. He passed away in his sleep in the autumn of 1878.”

  Sarah wiped her eyes, sniffing. “So Eric is buried here on the family estate?”

  “Yes he’s buried here, and it’s where we’re going next. There’s something you need to see.” He looked across to her in concern. “Are you up to it, darling?”

  Was she? “Of course,” she assured, but really was not at all. Sarah felt slightly light-headed.

  They made their way toward the family mausoleum on the northern hill behind the estate. It was a beautiful final resting place, overlooking the family’s land.

  The groundskeeper dislodged years of dust as he unlocked and opened the old creaking steel doors. He lit the candles in the circular building, casting light on all the family headstones that lined the walls.

  Sarah walked over and started to read the epitaphs. Lady Patricia’s grave identified her as the Countess of Earnston. Wiping her eyes, Sarah now comprehended just how much time had passed. It was so final.

  A shiver stole over her, and walking on she found Eric’s grandmother’s grave. Her heart broke at the sight of it. Sarah read that she had “left this world in the year of our Lord 1828,” ten short years after Sarah’s own parting. Her father’s voice cut strong and loud across the silent room, and Sarah pulled her thoughts back from the past.

  “Sarah, come here.”

  She walked to where her father stood in front of a large ornate sarcophagus. She knew whose it was before she reached it. Tears burnt her eyes, blurring her vision.
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  Crouching down, she ran her hand along Eric’s name as she searched out the date of his death. She smiled; her father was never wrong: 1878. Eric was eighty-six years young. She stared at the cross carved above his name before reading the full inscription. She never knew his middle name had been Sebastian.

  She was happy he lived a long life, but it saddened her that his life, after losing Patricia, was void of any company or love. Ironically, Sarah now faced the same fate. After Eric, there would be no other man for her.

  She stood, looking down at his grave, realizing what she had to do. The oppressive weight, which had settled on her soul, lifted with her decision and she knew with every fiber of her being that it was the right one.

  She could not allow their lives to end like this. For her to live a full and happy life, to have any future at all, it would have to be in the past, with Eric.

  “Sarah, will you read the inscription on the side? I understand Lord Earnston had it noted in his final will and testament to be carved.”

  Walking to where he was squatting, she knelt down beside him. She squinted, struggling to read the cursive writing not fully illumined by the candles. Her body shook as she deciphered the words.

  The message read: I believe. I love and miss you. Please come back to me. It was signed Eric.

  Sarah’s hand sought her father’s and her heart raced in her chest. She could almost hear him asking her, and she shivered as a breeze caressed her skin. Her father’s arms came around to embrace her.

  Her heart shattered across the centuries. Eric had waited that long for her, waited his whole life for a woman who never came back. She looked up to her father, only to see he already knew what she was about to say.

  “I know, my girl. I know what has to be done and although it will probably kill me, seeing you like this is worse. You have to go back, build your life with him. I won’t stand in your way.” Sarah cried out in relief, hugging him with all her might. She understood what a profound and heart-wrenching sacrifice he was making as a parent.

  “I don’t know what to say. Thank you doesn’t seem enough.”

  “Yes, I know. I also know there is no point in two people living miserable lives when it doesn’t have to be that way. And that’s why I’m sending you back. He obviously mourned you his whole life, and I refuse to watch you do the same.” He wiped at his eyes. “So if I have to let you go I will. I’ll do it for you both.”

  Her lips trembled as her father’s voice broke with emotion. How did she deserve such a wonderful father? “I know you will have a wonderful life, full of love and happiness, that is enough to make me never regret my decision. I love you, kiddo.”

  She clasped her Dad in a fierce hug. “I love you, too. I’ll miss you.”

  “Only mad scientists like me would get away with something like this.” He laughed. “So it’s lucky for you, my girl, that I’m one of those.”

  Sarah hugged him tighter. “You’re not a mad scientist; you’re a brilliant mad scientist.”

  Both laughed as Sarah re-read the carved message on Eric’s grave. She silently promised Eric she would take heed of his final request and come home.

  To him.

  Chapter Nineteen

  It was another week before Sarah could depart. Her father needed the time to cover all legalities. Needed to ensure that if Eric would not take her back, or died having never married her, she would be protected and comfortable.

  They opened an account at Lloyds Bank with a substantial deposit, large enough to last two lifetimes. The Mayfair home’s deeds were transferred into her name and by the day’s close of her arrival, the house would be fully staffed by nineteenth century workers.

  Sarah sat waiting in her father’s office, clicking a pen on and off while counting down the time before she left.

  “Ready to ride, Sarah?”

  Sarah looked up at her father, a man to whom she would be forever indebted.

  “I am.” She leaned up and kissed him, threw her arms around him to hug him just one more time. “I love you. I’ll miss you, and take care of yourself, won’t you?”

  He smiled down at her. “Of course I will. Don’t you worry about me. Just make us proud by marrying your earl and living a wonderful life. That will be enough for all of us.” Harrison paused. “But Sarah, I do want to make sure you are certain. You know after being back in the past for a certain amount of time, you cannot return home.”

  Sarah nodded, knowing only too well how final this day would be. “I understand. I’m sure, one hundred percent sure.”

  He kissed her forehead. “Okay, then.”

  They made their way to the time machine, and Sarah’s stomach rolled in nerves. Would Eric take her back or would it take some work on her part to earn his trust and love again? She steeled herself to win, no matter the cost. She loved him and knew he never stopped loving her, had forgiven her at some point in his life. Forgiven her enough to have a message carved on his grave. There had to be a way to reconcile and she was damned well determined to find it.

  The goodbyes were devastating. She kissed her hand and caught her father’s eye, pulled forth the brightest smile she could before waving farewell.

  Then Sarah silently said goodbye to her twenty-first century life and welcomed in the nineteenth with open arms.

  • • •

  The staff began arriving on her doorstep just after lunch. Sarah was pleasantly surprised with their professionalism and wonderful manners. She was also glad none of them raised their eyebrows at their employer being a young unmarried mistress living alone.

  During the first few days back in town, Sarah kept to herself, ordering new dresses and getting to know her staff. She sent her head groom to purchase a carriage and horses from Tattersalls, as she was prohibited to set foot in the place, being female.

  Eric had not seen her for over a year and a half in his world. The current Season of 1819 was long over, and families were heading out of town to their country estates to spend Christmas and New Year away from the city.

  Perusing the Times, Sarah smiled when she read the wedding announcement for Anita and Lord Kentum. They were to be married next Saturday. It was earmarked to be the wedding of the year.

  Scribbling a short missive, Sarah sent a footman out to deliver the letter notifying her friend of her arrival back in London. Just as she sat down to a cup of tea an hour or so later, her parlor door burst open, and a whirlwind of color flew into the room and ran toward her.

  Sarah jumped up, laughing and holding her arms out to hug her dear, missed friend. They pulled apart, both smiling through their tears, hands clasped in strong bonds.

  “Sarah, you couldn’t imagine my absolute joy on receiving your letter today. I nearly screamed the house down and immediately ordered the carriage to be brought round. Mother almost had a heart seizure.”

  Sarah laughed, imagining the scene her letter would have created. “I’ve missed you, too, my dear friend. I’m so glad you came.” Sarah pulled Anita down to sit beside her.

  “How is it that you are here?”

  Sarah smiled, not yet ready to divulge time travel secrets to the nineteenth century. Instead she shrugged and told what was true. “I couldn’t stay away. I belong in London and feel at home here. My future is here.”

  “Oh, Sarah.” Anita paused. “So you plan on staying? For good?”

  Sarah laughed. “Yes, I’m staying for good. Now tell me all the gossip over the last year or so. I understand you’re to be married next weekend.” Sarah grinned. “Poor old Lord Kentum, still waiting to see that silk negligee? How he must be suffering, poor man.”

  Anita laughed lovingly, her eyes bright with joy. “I see you still read the gossip page in the Times, my dear. And yes, Freddie and I will be at long last married on Saturday.” Anita wearily sighed. “It’s been very trying
these last months not being able to marry. But with Eric’s mother and wife dying … ”

  Sarah noted Anita’s hesitation to continue, and she nodded, urging her to go on.

  “Well, the whole family went into mourning, which put the marriage off for several months. It’s been very hard, and Eric … ”

  Sarah’s gaze flew to her friend. “What’s wrong with Eric? Has something happened to him?” Please God, no, she silently screamed.

  “No, no nothing like that, he’s fine in that sense. However, he is no longer the Eric you and I once knew. Since you left, he’s been very different. His marriage — well, that didn’t help because, let’s face it, it was a disaster.

  “And we, as his family, have not been able to pull him out of whatever hole he has himself buried in.” Anita sighed. “The whole family is extremely worried. He gambles heavily these days, hardly associates with any of us, and spends much of his time with fast, loose women.”

  Sarah sat in shocked silence, partly because of Anita’s plain speech and partly due to Eric carrying on in this manner. Of course she knew a little of what he’d been up to from her father. Nevertheless, it irked her to hear him living so dissolute a life.

  “Anita, do you think Eric would be willing to see me? I know we didn’t part on good terms, but he was a good friend once.” Sarah inwardly cringed at using the word friend. She was far from just a friend to that man. “Maybe I would be able to help.”

  Anita grabbed her hand, squeezing it in accord. “You know Eric would see you in a flash. Don’t think to hide what I know you two felt for each other. You were in love with him, Sarah, and still are. And it’s plainly obvious to all, Eric is still in love with you.”