Now and Forever:: A NEW ADULT TIME TRAVEL ROMANCE NOVEL (RAVENHURST SERIES Book 5)

by Lorraine Beaumont

  “No.”

  “Do you want me to?”

  “If you are so inclined,” Jayce said and readjusted his stance, crossing one booted foot over the other and then leaned back against the doorframe.

  “Do you think he remembers her?”

  “Who?” asked Jayce.

  “The blasted girl he is standing in front of.” This was not the first time Jayce had acted as though he too knew nothing of the girl. Like his memories had been erased right alongside Darias,’ but Gaitland knew better. He was rather good at lying himself so it was fitting that he too could tell when someone else was lying to him, which made him wonder as to the reasoning behind the lie. What was he hiding? The smell of freshly baked bread wafted over to him, invading his thoughts. His stomach grumbled in protest. It had been a long day and he was hungry.

  Jayce turned and gave him a curious stare. “How should I know? I cannot read my brother’s mind.”

  Gaitland widened his eyes in disbelief, not believing the load of horse dung Jayce was trying to feed him for a minute. “If you say so,” he muttered and absently rubbed his hand over his grumbling belly and shook his head, hating what he was about to do. No one could eat until Darias was seated at the table so in lieu of his hunger he decided against his better judgment.

  “Fine,” he exhaled. “I will get him.” Gaitland brushed past Jayce and walked outside. The wind hit him full on and he looked up into the darkening sky. Roiling clouds seemed to be gathering above the keep. Yes, something unnatural was afoot and it would seem he was going to be caught right in the middle once more.

  Wedded bliss

  PRESENT DAY  RAVENHURST

  BANG. Bang. Bang.

  The constant banging on the front door of Ravenhurst was what prompted Reed to step away from Raven. He looked around the room in a daze. He was hard as hell.

  “They did it!” Milford whooped loudly and grabbed hold of Maggie, spinning her around.

  Raven assumed she was part of “they,” but she didn’t feel nearly as excited as Milford. Well, that wasn’t completely true. She was very excited but in a completely different way. Lifting her shaking hand to her brow she tried to calm down a bit. She was still pretty amped up from Reed’s kisses. She let out a deflated sigh and wispy pieces of her hair floated around her face. Damn! She fanned her face. She was still hot and bothered. But then again, who could blame her…really. Reed was, is, all that and a box of chocolates, in her book, and he was officially her husband…well—at least he was temporarily. That thought started to depress her.

  “Does anyone else hear the damn door?” Reed asked, his voice rising in frustration. He raked his hand through his hair and looked around the room. His eyes fell on Raven…his wife. She looked so …Damn! He wanted to grab her up and kiss that look from her face. He reached down and adjusted himself.

  Bang. Bang. Bang.

  “Am I the only one who hears that?” Reed asked and looked directly at Milford, since he was the damn butler. No, of course he didn’t hear him. Milford was too busy holding on to Maggie, dancing around the room. He didn’t see Marguerite so he supposed he should be celebrating as well. He wanted to do something, but whoop and holler like an imbecile wasn’t on his list. He gave Raven, his wife, a sidelong glare and stormed from the room.

  What the hell was that? Raven wondered, watching his departing form, her heated body cooling quickly. Oh YAY! She was married to a jerk. Figures.

  Reed walked deliberately across the foyer, ready to light up whoever was on the other side of the door. He yanked the front door open.

  “Oh thank goodness.” A blur of red and blue shoved past him and rushed into the foyer. “You have to help me,” the mysterious woman gushed as she walked further into the room, her high heels clicking lightly on the tiles as she spun around looking at everything but him.

  Reed looked over the leggy redhead. She looked like sex…no, that wasn’t quite right. He slammed the door shut.

  Startled by the noise, she turned and looked over her shoulder at him, doing a one eighty. Her face crumpled and she lifted her hand to her chest. “You scared me.”

  “Can I help you with something,” he asked finally, raking his eyes down the length of her curvy but slender body.

  “It’s Lucian…,” she cried, her voice shaking as she reached up to dab her eye with the tip of her finger.

  Reed wasn’t sure if she was actually crying or simply trying to make it appear that way. She kept poking herself in the eye. His patience was wearing thin. “What about my brother?”

  “He’s gone,” she shrieked. A lone tear slid down her face. She rushed forward, wrapped her arms around Reed, and pressed her head against his shoulder.

  He stiffened. What the hell is this woman doing? He lifted one hand and patted her back. “There, there now, don’t cry.” God, he hated when women cried.

  Raven picked that moment to walk into the foyer. Her mouth dropped open. A woman was holding onto Reed like he was her long lost love. Her heart constricted at the sight. That was quick—they were just married….

  Reed pushed at the woman, disentangling himself from her embrace. When he saw the look Raven was giving him, a knot formed in the pit of his stomach. “I don’t know what you are trying to tell me,” he said taking another deliberate step away from her. He ran his hands over his face.

  “It’s Lucian,” she cried, wringing her hands together.

  Taking a step forward, the woman tried to walk back into his arms. Reflexively he backed away from her. “What about Lucian?” he asked for a second time.

  Raven finally broke her gaze with Reed and looked at the woman who was trying to wrap her arms around him. “Cecily?” she asked, her voice reflecting her shock.

  The woman turned and her entire demeanor switched on a dime. “Oh Raven, thank goodness,” she said as she rushed towards her. “You are a sight for sore eyes,” she blubbered out, sniffing loudly as her finger went to her eye and pressed one more tear out. “Wait…why are you wearing a wedding gown?”

  Raven ran her hand nervously down the front of her gown. “I…um…”

  “Oh never mind we can catch up later,” she said as though anything Raven had to tell her was insignificant and turned back towards Reed. “Well?” she asked, giving him a pointed stare, tapping her shoe against the marble tiles.

  Reed looked down at her tapping foot, annoyed. One shoe was covered with mud. He felt like he had just entered a play on the second act. What the hell is going on? Ignoring her question, he looked between them both. “You two know each other?”

  A day late a dollar short

  THE AGE OF CHIVALRY  RAVENHURST

  THE stench of fresh horse droppings made Marguerite lift her head once more. The air chilled, a storm brewing off in the fading horizon. Perfect. That was all she needed. Not only was she freezing, she was still stuck in the wooden contraption that held her hands and head, trapping her.

  When she asked to be sent back in time, she had no idea she would be spending her days as a prisoner.

  She had already received a disgusting dousing of some vile brown liquid that an unsavory knight poured on top of her head when she had somehow fallen asleep. At this point, the horse droppings smelled fresher than she did. Once she was free, she was going to stab that knight in his privates with a fork—it would hurt worse that way.

  Darias had been true to his word and left her high and dry, or wet in this case, when she could not answer his questions. What was she to do? Tell him she traveled through time? No, she could not do that. Warily she looked over to the pyre across the bailey. Was that where she would end up? Burned to death? Granted, there was enough raw sewage on her to burn a torch for a day or more on the sheer fumes alone. Not having any better alternative, she dropped her head back on her chest and finally let her eyes close.

  “Psst, Milady,” a small voice said from her left.

  Marguerite forced her eyes open and turned. The girl stuck beside her was jerking her head
back and forth trying to move her long hair from her face. “Milady,” she said again, spluttering out pieces of her hair.

  “What?” Marguerite hissed, irritated.

  “Do not fall asleep,” said the girl.

  “I wasn’t trying to,” she argued.

  “I warn ye to stay awake, if you do not, they will release the hounds on you,” the girl warned in ominous tones.

  “Hounds?” she repeated, swallowing hard. Only then did she hear the yelping/barking of the aforementioned hounds. Her body shook with fear. What the hell was wrong with these people? For pity’s sake, was she not allowed the comfort of oblivion from the hell she was living in now? Suddenly she wanted more than a fork, she wanted a sword for their necks, a mace for their heads, a dagger for their gullets and a troth of sewage to dump each and every blackguard in while she was at it.

  Devlin looked like a bloody saint in comparison.

  “I will try,” she said.

  “You must do better than merely try,” the girl advised. “You must stay awake or we will both suffer the consequences.” The girl stomped her foot on the boards making one bounce up and down, with her weight.

  Marguerite was not sure what that would accomplish but bounced on her side as well. Back and forth, they bounced and each time their combined weight lifted the girl higher in the air. Luckily, the bailey was empty with the exception of two lads near the stables who seemed more interested in tossing stones against the building then with what they were doing. The board groaned again, bouncing upward. “What are you doing?” she gritted, glaring over at the girl.

  “I …” the girl huffed with exertion, “am trying… to get …free,” she managed.

  Marguerite gave her an incredulous look. How in the hell was bouncing up and down like an imbecile going to help the girl escape? Before she could say the like to her, she watched in amazement as a small piece of wood fell to the ground and the board sprung open, releasing the girls head.

  “How did you…”

  “Shush,” the girl whispered hotly, and quickly closed the board once more but not all the way. She had a piece of cloth stuffed in place of the latch. “Someone is coming.”

  Marguerite schooled her features, not that she really needed to, since her hair covered most of her face. The sound of footfalls climbing the stairs made the boards creak. Two pairs of filthy boots came into view. She peeked out through the strands of her hair. The boots belonged to the pair of lads from the stables that had been throwing stones.

  “Is she asleep?” asked the shorter lad on the right. He was obviously the younger of the two. His voice was a bit too high and cracked awkwardly when he spoke.

  “I do not think so,” said the second lad. He was on her left and sounded a bit older but not by much.

  “I wanted to see what she had inside that cloak of hers. It makes some strange noises,” said the first lad.

  “If she is asleep we are to release the hounds, as Morrigan instructed.”

  “Why? She can do no harm as she is. I do not understand Morrigan. She scares me,” said the lad with the cracking voice.

  “Quiet! She may hear you,” hissed out the older lad.

  Marguerite agreed with them wholeheartedly, the girl they were talking about scared the hell out of her too.

  No time for regret

  PRESENTDAY RAVENHURST

  THE remnants of Burberry perfume lingered in the air as Raven closed the door to her room. Her beautiful skirts rustled against the carpet. Reaching up, she pulled another sparkly pin from her hair and dropped it onto the dresser. Tears streamed steadily down her face. Dirty Dancing’s theme song “Time of my life” by Bill Medley & Jennifer Warnes warbled out of her little cube speaker plugged in the corner. She sang along, “Now I’ve had the time of my life…nooo…I never felt like this before…and I swear… it’s the truuuth and I owe it all to youuuuuuuuu…” sniff, sob, sniffle, sigh….

  “Oh what have I done?”

  Raven wasn’t the only person asking themselves that very same question. Reed looked across his desk at the woman who had just barged into his home in a whirlwind, rambling about his brother’s mysterious disappearance.

  “Now,” he exhaled, giving her a pointed stare. “What were you saying about my brother?”

  Cecily smoothed her hair down, tucking the short pieces behind one ear, avoiding the pointed look from the man standing behind the massive desk a few short feet from where she sat. Damn! He was just as hot as Lucian was. Had she known she may have come out here herself under the guise of appraising the contents of this ancient pile of rubble instead of having the boy’s send out Raven. At the time, Raven had seemed like the perfect candidate for the job—she was sweet, but pretty clueless on a whole. Crossing one leg over the other, she smoothed a wrinkle from her skirt. Pressing the tip of her finger to her eye, she tried to push out another feigned tear and sniffed loudly. “Well, he called and said he needed to talk to me. He said it was urgent.”

  “So,” Reed said, looking unimpressed. His smoldering gray eyes bore down at her.

  “Well,” she exhaled loudly, shifting uncomfortably under his relentless gaze. “He wouldn’t tell me over the phone you see,” she explained. “So I got directions and…”

  Reed waved his hand in the air silencing her. “Can we speed this along?”

  Cecily pressed deeper into the cushions of the chair, feeling like she had just received a verbal slap. Well, well…maybe Lucian wasn’t too far off the mark when he said his brother was a prick. She cleared her throat, completely giving up the crying bit. It didn’t seem to have any effect on him anyway, and besides, it was giving her a headache. “Are you even concerned about your brother?”

  “Depends.” He shrugged.

  She gripped the chair arms. This was an unexpected turn of events. Here she thought he would be putty in her hands like his brother. Switching tactics again, she tried for a more direct approach. “Listen,” she began. “Obviously you know your brother better than I do, but he called me and said he needed me to come here. So I did. But when I arrived, he was gone.”

  “Wait?” His brow furrowed. “Where were you supposed to meet him?”

  Momentarily speechless Cecily gaped at him. Shit! “Ah, at the um….inn,” she said. “The one that is down the road a piece,” she explained.

  “Why would he want you to meet him at the inn and not here?” he asked, wondering just who in the hell this woman was.

  “I guess he wanted some alone time,” she said, shrugging.

  Reed looked her over. It looked like she already had some alone time, but refrained from saying as much. “And…” he prompted.

  “Well, when I arrived, he was gone.”

  “So, he ditched you.” He gave her a look like she was a bothersome insect. “What does this have to do with me?”

  Cecily decided to cut to the chase and reached in her clutch, pulling out a crumpled piece of paper. “I found this in the room, instead of him.” She thrust the paper out to him. When he made no move to take it she stood and tossed it on the desk and then sat back down.

  Lifting the aged paper from his desk, he read what was written…

  “Until the key is found

  the door of time will be bound

  Locked within for all time

  May no other be allowed piece of mind”

  Reed swiped a hand through his hair and reread what was written. “What the hell is this?” He shook the paper in the air.

  Cecily shrugged her shoulders. “I thought you could tell me.”

  “Damned if I know what it means.” Reed dropped the paper on his desk and stared down at it, something niggling in the back of his mind. Where had he read that before?

  Cecily tried not to roll her eyes but it was hard. What the hell? Didn’t he know about the legend of Ravenhurst? His ass lived here. Maybe he was as clueless as Lucian said. Shit! “This is merely a hunch on my part but I am guessing once you figure out what that paper means you will find Luc
ian.”

  “Who say’s I want to find Lucian?”

  Cecily blinked, taken aback. “But he is your brother.”

  “Yeah.” Reed stuffed his hands in his pockets. “So what of it?”

  Fighting the urge not to yell asshole, she tried again, “What if he is hurt?”

  “I doubt that,” he muttered and then walked over to the sideboard and lifted a crystal decanter. “Want a drink?”

  “Sure.” Cecily leaned back, appreciating the view. His pristine white shirt pulled across his broad shoulders as he pulled two crystal tumblers from under the cabinet and poured two glasses of aged Scotch.

  “Would you like it straight or with ice?”

  “Straight is fine.” She ran her finger over her lip.

  Reed rolled his shoulders and picked up both glasses. Crossing the room, his shoes barely made any sound at all on the rare oriental carpet. He handed the glass out to her.

  Taking the proffered drink, she held it up admiring the way the light caught the different cuts in the glass before she took a sip. “Thank you,” she said, nodding in his direction. “This is good.”

  Reed didn’t bother responding and walked back behind his desk. Taking a long pull from his own drink, he looked over at her casually. When she uncrossed her legs, he noticed she wasn’t wearing any panties. Lowering the glass, he gave her a pointed look. “So…”

  “Jones, Cecily Jones,” she supplied for him.

  “So, Ms. Ah… Jones…”

  She waved her hand in the air. “Cecily is fine.”

  “So Cecily, what do you think I need to do?”

  “Me?” she asked, stopping the drink halfway to her mouth.

  “Yes you.” He raised his brow at her.

  “Ah…” she trailed off casting her gaze to the floral brocade pattern of the chair arm. She traced the design with her finger. It felt rough and smooth at the same time, noting the upholstery was still in really good condition considering the age of the chair. “I don’t know,” she finally answered.