by L. A. Fiore
"This is all rather overwhelming but, oddly, I find it all plausible." Lady Scarcliff said from her spot across the table.
"If Edwyn is this Derek character then who is Katherine?" Cecilia's voice had Quinn looking over at her and smiling as a plan started to form.
"I don't know who she is but I have a fairly good idea of what she is." Quinn looked to Archer and Thaddeus before she added, "We're going to have to go undercover."
Archer's eyebrow rose at that, "Meaning?"
Her grin was razor sharp as she replied, "You'll see."
Later that night Archer and Quinn strolled through the small garden in the back of the townhouse and though Archer wanted to know what Quinn was up to, he didn't want to take up their time together with talk of Derek/Edwyn and the Danvers. In truth, he was still trying to understand it. What did the world become that made time travel possible? The thought was daunting and a bit frightening.
He pulled his mind from such things and promised himself he'd stay in the here and now by reaching for Quinn's hand and letting complete and utter contentment fill him. She spoke his name and when he looked down at her he knew what he was feeling was clearly seen in his expression because of the small hitch in her breathing. In response, he couldn't help leaning over and lightly brushing his lips over hers. "Yes?"
It seemed to take her a minute to remember what she was going to ask.
"Could you tell me about your wife?"
He knew his grin faded at the mention of that woman but he didn't release his hold on her hand as he answered.
"I remember very little about her. She was vain and arrogant, hand-picked for me by my father."
Quinn could feel the anger rolling off him so she stopped and reached for his other hand. "She gave you Nickie."
"That's just it, Quinn, I'm not convinced that she was Nickie's mother."
Quinn didn't have to feign shock at that announcement. "What do you mean?"
He reached up and touched her cheek. "There are a few things in a man's life that he never forgets: the first time he mounts a horse, his first fisticuffs..." he grinned, "...the first time he takes a woman to his bed, falling in love, becoming a father. I remember falling in love, I remember when Nickie was born, but somehow I also remember hating her and I don't even remember marrying her or bedding her."
Quinn wasn't sure what emotion was stronger, confusion over Archer's words or the jealousy that he had loved another with such fierce intensity: an intensity that even now caused his jaw to tense and his shoulders to square. She pushed herself past her own issues to ask, "How is that possible, you not remembering?"
"I suppose for you to truly understand, you need to understand about my father. He was an evil man. As soon as I was born, I was pulled from my mother's arms and whisked away to the old ancestral home of the Scarcliffs and there my training began. Every day, from the time I could walk, I was trained to become the next great Earl of Scarcliff. He didn't want a son, he wanted immortality and I was his means. He did everything in his power to bend me to his will but somehow I survived it and eventually, and with great reluctance and pressure from his peers, I was sent off to University."
"I came home after I graduated and with the money left for me from my mother's side of the family, I immediately started building Whispering Winds. I no longer lived in fear of my father and went so far as to renounce his legacy which included the threat of closing up the Scarcliff ancestral home as soon as I assumed the title. He was livid that I would defy him but I was also a full grown man who would no longer tolerate the beatings he so loved to mete out."
"Six years later Nickie was born and this is the time that gets confusing for me because shortly after his birth I became gravely ill. Apparently, I was delirious with fever for over a week and when the fever finally broke, I was weak for months afterwards. The fever had affected my brain because not all of my memories were there and though I remembered Nickie and my wife, it was more impressions than actually memories. The doctors and my father kept me from them for fear that I would pass to them my illness but I remember the day I was allowed to see them again."
"I was beside myself with joy when Nickie was brought to me and I knew him instantly. But the woman who was holding him, the one they claimed was my wife, the mother of my child, I didn't recognize her at all. In my heart I remembered my wife as a beauty with a wonderful wit. Her name was Morgan," he was silent a moment as a wistful smile touched his lips before he continued, "But the woman who stood before me, Connie they called her, was nothing like what I remembered. My father, the doctor, even some of the villagers, tried to convince me that I was mistaken about my wife, still confused from my illness. My mother and sisters had never met Morgan because I met her after I returned from University and they were staying in London. I wish that they had met her but they stayed away because they feared my father, specifically how I might suffer if they reached out to me because my father liked to keep me apart from the rest of the family. He wanted to make me feel dependent on only him."
"I began to believe what I was being told when my dream wife never appeared to claim her son or me. At least in my waking hours. In sleep I dreamt of her, every time I closed my eyes she was there, the wife of my dreams. I thought I was going insane and that's why I kept myself from Nickie. I wasn't sure that I had come out of my illness with my sanity completely intact and, in truth every time I saw him I thought of her, the one who wasn't real."
"For the past six years I have dreamt and longed for a woman who doesn't exist." He reached up and framed Quinn's face, his voice gravelly when he added, "When I saw you that first time in my great hall, I thought I really had gone mad because there you were standing before me."
Quinn went very still. "What do you mean?"
His gaze was like a soft caress as it swept over her features before he whispered, "You, Quinn, are the woman I have always dreamt about."
She went ghostly white at that statement and as Archer tried to pull her into his arms to comfort her, she pulled back and when she spoke her voice was oddly detached.
"Seven years ago I graduated from University and treated myself to a vacation before I started working. And though I had planned to go elsewhere, at the last minute I came here, to England. I found your castle on that trip, was drawn to it, led to it as if I knew it would be there. I spent the years since trying to learn everything I could about the place. And on the day I came here to your time, I was staying in your home and I saw you, by the river, waiting. And if I'm not being too silly, it looked as if you were waiting for me."
"Magic," he whispered before his mouth covered hers.
The following morning Quinn proposed her plan on how they could sniff out the truth on Katherine.
"We need to discreetly look into Katherine's past. I have an idea where to look but Archer you're out because asking probing questions about your betrothed will just raise all kinds of red flags, and Thaddeus, being his best friend excludes you too. We need someone who can blend in and move about with complete anonymity. Someone like Douglas Grant would be perfect but he needs to stay focused on what he's already looking into."
Quinn reached for her cup of tea as she eyed the two men across the table from her. They seemed to understand what she wasn't saying but were having trouble believing it. Archer's words were deceivingly soft when he asked, "Who are you suggesting should do this sleuth work?"
"Me, of course."
Archer dropped his hands hard on the tabletop as he declared quite firmly, "No."
"Hear me out, first," Quinn pleaded.
He leaned back and waved his hand rather magnanimously. "It's still going to be 'no' but by all means continue."
Quinn was very tempted to stick her tongue out at him but controlled that childish impulse and forged on.
"I won't be walking around London dressed like this, since I would be linked to you, but if I was dressed as a gentleman no one would pay me the slightest notice."
She waited and she wasn't
disappointed in their reactions to her plan when they both stood with looks of outrage distorting their features. It was Thaddeus who spoke first.
"Are you insane? I really would like to see this future of yours to know if everyone acts as you do or if you are crazy even among them."
Quinn delicately dabbed the corners of her mouth as if she hadn't a care in the world while determination burned through her.
"I am a bit of a renegade but I am not wrong. We need to be able to slip in and out of any venue without drawing attention and the only one who can do that, who we can trust with such a delicate job, is me. And I do believe being so average in height that I would make a very nondescript gentleman easily overlooked by everyone. It's perfect. You know that it is."
"It's madness, Quinn, utter madness." Archer was pacing now and Quinn realized she enjoyed seeing that beautiful male form prowling like a caged panther. He was altogether yummy but she forced her focus from his sexual energy and stood.
"I understand this is all very strange for you. A woman who acts so decidedly, who isn't content with balls and tea parties, or gowns and needlepoint. But I have two brothers and so I was always treated more like boy than a girl growing up. I like playing football, drinking beer from a can and eating buffalo wings with my fingers. Fast cars, who-done-its and adventure, that's me. On my 16th birthday, I went bungee jumping and loved it. I can pull this off. I can play the role to perfection and if what I believe is true we're going to know exactly who Katherine Danvers is."
Thaddeus and Archer were looking at her oddly.
"I didn't understand at least half of what you just said. What is a buffalo wing? And what in the name of God is bungee jumping?"' Archer was standing still now, his powerful arms crossed over his muscular chest. Quinn couldn't help the small smile, he looked positively put out.
"Buffalo wings are the thighs of a chicken that are deep fried and smeared with a spicy sauce. They're delicious. And bungee jumping is jumping from a tall structure while being attached, at the ankle, to an elastic cord, sort of like a ribbon but one that stretches when pulled, " Quinn quickly explained.
Archer and Thaddeus's faces went completely white and when Archer managed to find his voice, it was laced with fury, "You did what?"
Quinn held his stare and repeated herself. "I jumped from a bridge, 200 meters from the ground above a river, and the only thing keeping me from splattering like a watermelon was an elastic cord wrapped at my ankle." Quinn continued to hold Archer's furious glare as she lifted her hand to hold up four fingers, which she wiggled at him. "I did it four times," she teased mercilessly.
His voice was like gun blast. "You should be locked in your room."
"So I guess telling you I went sky diving is probably not a good idea?"
"What is that?" Thaddeus demanded.
Quinn was starting to enjoy herself. "In the future there are large tubular machines with wings called airplanes that fly through the air and can reach as high as 10,000 meters. Sky diving is jumping from one of these airplanes with a large mushroom cap shaped apparatus called a parachute strapped to your back. Then you free-fall before releasing the parachute that catches the air and allows you to float to the ground below."
Archer was positively apoplectic now as he turned, without a word, and walked from the room. Quinn hurried to catch up to him but when she reached out and touched his arm, his head snapped fiercely in her direction and all she could see was fury and fear burning in his emerald gaze.
He grabbed her arm and pulled her down the hall into the library before closing and locking the door. He pushed her up against the door, pinning her with his body, as his mouth came down hard on hers. His hands pulled through her hair spilling pins to the floor as the mass of curls tumbled down around her shoulders. He fisted the silky strands and pulled her even closer to him all the while his mouth stayed fused to hers. When he did pull his mouth away, it was only so he could trail kisses down her neck and over her collarbone and then his head lifted and whispered, "You could have been killed."
He wrapped her face in his hands. "I love you, Quinn."
She threw her arms around his neck and held him tightly to her. "I love you, Archer."
She pulled back and his thumb gently wiped the tears from her face. He marveled that this stunning, wild, carefree woman was his and he couldn't imagine loving anyone more. A wicked grin curved his lips when he realized what he had done to her hair.
"I've ruined your hair but I'm not sorry. I like your hair down, all those curls free and wild." He twirled a silky curl around his finger as he studied her face and then he whispered, "I don't deserve you, but I do love you."
"Stop talking nonsense and kiss me."
He was more than happy to oblige her.
Just after lunch, Douglas Grant arrived at the townhouse and was escorted to the library where Archer, Quinn and Thaddeus were waiting. As soon as he entered, Quinn knew when she fashioned herself as a man, which she had every intention of doing with or without the consent of the men, she wanted to capture the rumpled, unremarkable look of Douglas. She wasn't being cruel and suspected the man dressed as he did for that very reason. And it worked she bet; he would draw no notice whatsoever -- and neither would she.
"Hello, Mr. Grant. Thank you for coming to the house. Can I get you something to drink?" Archer graciously offered.
"Scotch, if you have it."
"Absolutely." Archer dismissed Finley and served the scotch himself before settling across from the detective.
"Miss Shaughnessy, Lord Cornwell," Grant nodded at Quinn and Thaddeus.
"Hello, Mr. Grant. How are you?" Quinn asked. Surprise flickered across his face at the sincerity in her tone as it was unusual for the peerage class to give a damn about the working class. His smile was genuine before he replied, "I'm well, thank you, but I'm afraid I have some unsettling news."
Archer leaned up so his elbows rested against his knees. "Go on."
"I have exhausted every contact at my disposal, have scoured the countryside, and I have found nothing regarding the woman believed to be your wife, Lady Connie Scarcliff."
Thaddeus stood to refill his scotch. "Her family must have moved away after the accident."
Mr. Grant shifted uncomfortably. "No, I'm sorry I am not being clear. It isn't that I am unable to find anything, what I'm trying to say is that there is nothing to find." He was looking directly at Archer before he added, "Connie Scarcliff doesn't exist."
"Oh crap." Quinn muttered as she watched Archer stand up so fast he almost knocked his chair backwards. "Goddamn it, I knew it."
"Then who the bloody hell was the woman walking around Arch's estate like she owned the place? Whose body was it they supposedly pulled from the river?" Thaddeus demanded.
"What do you remember about her death, Lord Scarcliff?" Mr. Grant asked.
Archer turned from his spot near the fireplace. "I wasn't home when it happened. I was off with my steward checking on my other properties. When I came home a sennight later, I was told of the accident and that arrangements had already been handled. Honestly, the woman who walked my halls treated my son like a street urchin and was cold and aloof to me. Part of the reason I was scouting out my other properties was to move her to one far removed from me and mine. I never visited her grave, didn't mourn her, in truth, after she died I never gave her another moment's thought. It sounds very hard but you needed to know the woman."
"Arch is right. She was positively wicked."
"Here's what I've been able to piece together. Connie Scarcliff was actually Connie Daniels who was living with the Earl and caring for him in his final years. After learning the identity of the woman posing as your wife, I started searching for your actual wife and checked all the places that couples may run off to get married, including Greta Green, and that is where I found this."
He handed Archer a sheet of paper that had been torn from some type of journal and there scratched in ink was the marriage of Viscount Archer Scarcliff to Morga
n O' Cuinn, dated August 29, 1698. Archer turned to Quinn and she could see his pain and confusion before he whispered, "I knew it."
Quinn felt his pain and some of her own knowing now the name of that unknown woman, a woman Archer had clearly loved. She turned to Mr. Grant. "Any idea what happened to her?"
Mr. Grant's voice was very soft when he replied, "She died in childbirth."
Quinn was watching Archer and saw his face crumble in agony at the news that his beloved wife had died bringing Nicholas into the world. Mr. Grant continued on.
"The late Earl wasn't happy that Lord Scarcliff had married a commoner and when she died, Lord Scarcliff fell gravely ill and almost died himself." Mr. Grant turned his attention to Archer before he continued. "It was then that your father concocted the plan to manipulate you into believing that his nurse was really your wife. Why he did so I don't know, except based on everything I've heard about the man, he was vile and unforgiving. As you know, your father died shortly after you recovered so whether he intended to right the wrong he had done you, we'll never know. Miss Daniels apparently died during the time she was masquerading as your wife yet there is no record of her death and actually, stranger still, she seems to have quite literally disappeared."
"Excuse me." Archer turned and left the room. Quinn wanted to follow him but she knew he needed this time alone to deal with this tremendous blow. Honestly, she wasn't sure she could keep herself together knowing that who he believed she was, she really wasn't. Would that change how her felt about her or acted around her she wondered?
And the late Earl. Quinn hated Archer's father in that moment. He didn't even allow his son to grieve for his lost wife. And what was the point in tricking Archer into believing Connie Daniels was his wife? Was it control or was there something more there? Her mind was racing over Miss Daniels and her disappearing act, but Quinn knew there was one more question she needed to ask: "Where is Archer's wife buried?"