10 Timeless Heroes; A Time Travel Romance Boxed Set

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  “Well, I am sure my boss will not say. He was absent from work for a few days and has been preoccupied since his return.” Dorothy’s words penetrated Ellie’s distracted musings.

  Ellie returned her focus to her current setting. The table for six was set with white linen and dishes of simple white porcelain. The dining room was much smaller than that in the Chamberlain home, but all the more cozy because of its reduced size. A well-polished mahogany china cabinet matched the sideboard, and both stood out impressively against pale blue walls. Sheer white lace curtains hung at the windows. Ellie studied as much detail as possible, hoping to store the memories away for when she returned to her own time...or woke up. This first-hand experience in the late Victorian/early Edwardian era could only help to inform her teachings.

  Dinner ended on a festive note, and they all helped Mrs. McGuire clear the table and wash the dishes. When cleanup was done, Ellie professed herself exhausted after the long day and skipped the house’s customary after-dinner tea in the parlor. She climbed the well-varnished wooden stairs to the second floor. After a brief stop in the washroom to wash her face and hands, Ellie returned to her room, shed her clothes, took down her hair and climbed into bed. She’d left any extra clothing belonging to Melinda at the house and would need to purchase a few things tomorrow once she’d sold the ring—that is unless she finally woke up in her lonely apartment.

  Ellie surveyed the room in the dark, noting how the moon came through the large window and cast silver beams across the walls. And she willed herself to sleep and to wake up from her Victorian dream. She’d had enough of the past. Her present didn’t look very promising, if indeed Kyle had cancelled the wedding, but she didn’t think life would hurt as much as it did here at the turn of the century.

  ****

  Morning brought Constance in the carriage. Ellie climbed into the conveyance and off they went in a cloud of dust...literally.

  “Ellie, I must say, you have created quite the maelstrom at the Chamberlain house.”

  Ellie caught her breath. Though Constance smiled, her eyes were quite serious.

  “What do you mean?”

  “When I arrived home last night, I had a message from Robert waiting for me. He wanted to know if I had assisted you in leaving, where you were, and if you were safe.”

  “Oh, Constance. I’m so sorry to have involved you. How did he know? Did you reply to the note?”

  “I am not sure how he knew. Alice did meet me at the door when I came to visit you in the morning. Perhaps he questioned the servants.” She paused and sighed. “At any rate, I did not have time to send a note around this morning before he appeared on my doorstep, only an hour ago, with the same questions.” She smiled. “I would say he demanded the answers, but he is far too well bred to be so rude.”

  Ellie turned to stare out the window. The carriage rumbled along dirt roads as they passed a bevy of lovely Victorian homes which appeared startlingly new.

  “I don’t know what to say.” Shame kept her from meeting Constance’s eyes.

  “Well, Ellie, I think one thing is certain. You made quite an impression on Robert, one he is not likely to forget as soon as you think. I knew that from the first moment he introduced you on the train.”

  Ellie turned startled eyes to Constance. “I-I hoped he would accept my thanks, take the engagement at face value, and let me go.”

  Constance gave her head a slight shake and grimaced. “He might still. I assured him that you were safe, but I refused to tell him where you were. He asked me about your plans to be married, and I confirmed that I knew you had been engaged. While I did not lie to him directly, I think he believes the engagement is ongoing.” Constance bit her lip and looked at Ellie. “He seems to be very infatuated with you, Ellie. He has never looked at me like that once. Are you sure you are doing the right thing?”

  Ellie sighed and brushed away an escaping tear with the back of her hand. “No, Constance, I’m not sure about anything, except that my time here is limited, and I cannot stay. I thought I should leave before we fell in love. Well, before I fell in love, I should say.”

  “It may be too late. He is already in love, Ellie.”

  Ellie turned stricken eyes on Constance. “Oh, Constance, surely not! It has only been a few days! If he is infatuated, I think it is only a fascination with someone from...uh...another place, from Chicago.”

  Constance burst out into a surprisingly rich, husky laugh. “Chicago? Robert is well traveled. He has been to Chicago many times! No, I do not think that is it. I think it is probably you. You are quite unique, Ellie.”

  “Not in my own world,” Ellie muttered with a red face. Her theory did sound silly without being able to explain “Chicago” meant a hundred years into the future.

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “Nothing. I was just thinking aloud.” She patted Constance’s hand. “Thank you for not telling him where I was. Hopefully, he’ll just assume I’m engaged and move on.”

  “Perhaps,” Constance murmured. The carriage came to a halt in front of a jeweler’s shop, and Ellie followed Constance into the elegant establishment. Constance, an unexpected fairy godmother in disguise, expertly negotiated a hefty sum for the ring, and they sailed out of the store with enough money to buy Ellie a few clothes, some necessities, and room and board for at least a year should she need. Ellie convinced Constance that her luggage had been lost on the train, and it was under this assumption that Constance took her to a series of ready-to-wear stores to buy some tailored suits, dresses and undergarments.

  With bags and hatboxes in hand, they hopped aboard the carriage once again and stopped to refresh themselves and rest in a teashop in downtown Seattle. Ellie followed Constance into the small shop on the first floor of a three-story brick building on a busy main street.

  Ellie had lost her bearings and had no earthly idea where she was in the city. The streets looked completely different with hard-packed dirt instead of asphalt. Street signs seemed to be in short supply, and the absence of traffic lights stumped her. Without the view from the elevated interstate which passed through the modern city, without the Space Needle or the gleaming skyscrapers with their glass windows, Ellie couldn’t even figure out where she was in relation to the waterfront of Elliott Bay. Her world had suddenly become much smaller, consisting of a few dirt roads, forests of pine trees, a neighborhood of similar Victorian houses and the shopping and business district in which they currently drank tea.

  A young waiter in white coat and black slacks seated them at a small round table, took their order and left. Ellie ordered the same items as Constance, tea and a scone—neither of which she particularly craved but both sounding like something a turn-of-the-century woman might order.

  “Where are we, Constance? I can’t seem to get my bearings.” Ellie adjusted her hat, wondering if she would ever learn to ignore it as some of her fellow female tea drinkers did.

  “We’re on Second Avenue. I thought you had not been to Seattle before, Ellie.” Constance eyed Ellie inquisitively as she laid her napkin across her lap.

  Ellie colored. “No, I haven’t. I was just wondering where we were in relation to the rest of the city, to the bay, that’s all.”

  “Ah.” Constance nodded in understanding. “I do not really know to tell you the truth. I leave that up to my driver.”

  Tea arrived in a plain porcelain teapot with matching white cups, along with scones on a simple white plate. Constance poured.

  “I was surprised to find so much ready-to-wear clothing in the store. I thought...” Careful, Ellie. “I thought we might have to visit a dressmaker.”

  Constance took a sip of tea and smiled. “This is the twentieth century, Ellie. We have a great many more modern conveniences than we did a decade ago. When I think of the fashions back then! Parting our hair in the middle? Those uncomfortable bustles and large crinolines? Do you remember? I am so grateful those days are gone. I love these sleek, modern styles.” She ran a hand down th
e sleeve of her emerald green tailored silk jacket, the picture of elegance.

  Ellie’s eyes crinkled, and she wanted to burst out laughing, but she pressed her lips together. To Constance, this clothing was the height of fashion, and Ellie had to admit it was much more stylish than her bulky turtleneck sweater and denim skirt and clogs, now safely stowed away in her dresser at the rooming house.

  Ellie murmured her assent. She gazed out the window at the busy street. Carriages and wagons passed to and fro, kicking up dust in their wake.

  “Oh, dear,” Constance murmured almost under her breath. She stiffened and stared out the window.

  Ellie followed her eyes. “What is it?”

  “Oh, dear. I had hoped. Well, this was the only teashop near the stores. I-I hoped...”

  “What, Constance? Is something wrong?”

  Constance turned to Ellie, a disconcerted look in her eyes. Her apologetic smile put Ellie on the edge of her seat.

  Constance nodded in the direction of the window. “I did not tell you before, because I thought he would not...that is I did not know he was at work today.” She looked back at the window. “That is Robert’s bank across the street, and his carriage has just arrived.”

  Ellie’s eyes darted to the window and she froze, her heart thumping in her throat. Robert descended from the carriage and strode rapidly inside a large brick building with the name “Washington Bank” over the door. From this distance, she could see nothing more than that he was dressed well—as always—and that his stride seemed purposeful and determined—as always. However, the sight of him renewed the ache in her heart. Such a handsome man! But a much more vulnerable man than she had previously thought. Underneath that confident exterior lurked a man who longed for love, and he deserved a real live woman...not a figment of his imagination...or hers.

  “Can we go, Constance? I’m afraid he’ll reach his office and see us leaving from a window.”

  “Yes, certainly, of course. I am very sorry about this, Ellie. I should have had the driver find another shop.” She rose from the table.

  Ellie rose on shaking knees and held onto the back of her chair. “No, no, that’s not your fault. But to see him so soon...” She wondered if her face was as pale as it felt. “I had hoped to be settled before I saw him next...if ever.”

  Constance moved toward the door, and Ellie followed her outside. Ellie cringed when she saw that their carriage was down the road about a block. She felt exposed and vulnerable to the three-story building across the street with seemingly hundreds of windows, and she turned her back to the street to hide her face. She heard the clop of the horses’ hooves nearing, though the carriage’s progress seemed unbearably slow.

  “The carriage is here, Ellie. Get in.” Ellie turned and climbed in, and Constance followed. The carriage started forward, and with a sigh of relief, Ellie peeked out to study the building where Robert worked. She gasped when she saw Robert standing on the sidewalk staring after their carriage, and she ducked her head back in to press back into the corner of her seat.

  “He saw us, Constance. Oh, I can’t believe I had to stick my head out the window.” Ellie felt perfectly awful, her eyes threatened to release a torrent of tears.

  “Are you sure? Ellie, I cannot tell you how sorry I am. What a silly decision on my part.”

  “Yes, I’m sure he saw. He was standing in front of the bank watching the carriage.”

  Constance peered out the window.

  “I do not see him, Ellie.”

  Ellie took another chance and stuck her head out the window again to look behind. Robert no longer stood on the sidewalk, but his carriage was in motion, and it moved in their direction!

  Chapter Thirteen

  Ellie pulled her head back in, banging her hat on the edge of the door. With wild eyes, she turned to Constance. “He’s right behind us! I-I think he’s following us. Can the driver speed up?” Visions of old western movies with masked desperados chasing racing stagecoaches as they careened wildly out of control popped into her mind.

  Constance stared at Ellie with round eyes and shook her head slowly.

  “Speed up? Do you mean go faster?”

  Ellie gave her a fervent nod.

  “We cannot go faster, Ellie. This is a city street. Robert is a gentleman. He would not follow us to the boarding house. That would be quite irregular for a man of his upbringing and stature.”

  Ellie eyed her skeptically, remembering the only boyfriend she’d had in her teen years—a romance lasting one whole week, and how she’d followed him one night to another girl’s house. Had things really changed that much in a hundred years?

  “Are you sure, Constance?”

  Constance nodded firmly. “Yes. If Robert really wants to talk to you, I am sure he will contact me, and I will let you know. Remember, he thinks you are engaged. I do not see Robert as the sort of man who would interfere with such a promise.”

  It was all Ellie could do not to peek outside the carriage again, but she resisted the compelling urge. Not to mention her head hurt where her hatpin must have pulled out hair when she’d smacked her hat on the carriage window.

  The ride back to the rooming house seemed to take forever, and in between bouts of overwhelming anxiety, Ellie tried to understand the origin of her fear. Was she afraid to face Robert, to reaffirm that she was indeed engaged and not available? Lies, all lies. Was she afraid that with one look into his emerald green eyes she would fly into his arms and beg him to take her back? True. Was she afraid that he just wanted to have one last conversation with her, to tell her he despised her? All of the above were correct.

  At long last, the carriage pulled up to the sweetly painted Victorian house fronted by rose bushes in riotous bloom, and Constance stepped out. Ellie kept her head inside but peeked through the window. She saw no other conveyances on the quiet, tree-lined street.

  “Well, of all the nerve!” Constance muttered as she stared down the street.

  “What?” Ellie froze, bent over awkwardly as she prepared to descend from the carriage.

  “Wait right there. I am going to have a word with him.”

  Ellie swallowed hard. Was it Robert? Her back began to hurt from the unnatural posture. Should she sit down or get out of the carriage? She couldn’t stand in her current ridiculous position any longer.

  She cautiously stepped down and saw Robert’s carriage pulled up near some neighboring houses. He wasn’t visible, but Constance stood at the foot of his carriage seemingly in a heated discussion as she pointed to her own carriage and vehemently shook her head.

  Unsure of what to do, Ellie threw one look at Robert’s driver, who watched Constance curiously, and then made a mad dash for the front door of the house. She closed the heavy teak door behind her and turned to peer out of the lovely leaded glass. Robert had now descended from his carriage, and he pointed to the house.

  “Ellie! How was your day?”

  Ellie whirled around to see Mrs. McGuire emerging from the kitchen, wiping her hands on a white apron.

  “Oh, wonderful. We managed to do a lot of shopping.” She twisted around to look out the door once again.

  “Where are your bags? Are they out in the carriage? Shall I help you carry them in?”

  “No!” Ellie almost shrieked. She blushed at the startled look on Mrs. McGuire’s face. “No, thank you. Mrs. Green will help me with them. She is just talking to someone right now.”

  Mrs. McGuire moved to the door to peer out. “Oh, I see. Is that...? Is that Mr. Robert Chamberlain?” she exclaimed. “Why, yes, it is! How wonderful! I think I’ll just go and say hello.”

  Before Ellie knew what was happening, Mrs. McGuire had pulled open the door and stepped onto the porch to wave at Robert. Ellie slumped against the nearest wall. Had the world suddenly gone mad? How could Mrs. McGuire possibly know Robert?

  She peered out again to see Mrs. McGuire approach the carriage. Robert and Constance turned, and then Robert shook Mrs. McGuire’s hand with his re
ady smile and a slight dip of his handsome head. Even from this distance Ellie could see that Mrs. McGuire was under his thrall. Wasn’t everybody? Ellie fumed.

  In unison, all three turned toward the house. Ellie panicked. Robert was going to come in. What should she do? She eyed the staircase, wondering if she could drag her skirts up to the second floor in time to avoid a meeting. Without further thought, she grabbed a handful of material, bunched it up around her knees and took two steps.

  “Ellie...Miss Standish. Mr. Chamberlain and Mrs. Green are staying to tea. Won’t you join us?” Mrs. McGuire sang out to her retreating back.

  Ellie dropped her skirts and turned around on the stairs. She grasped the banister with a cold, clammy palm. Mrs. McGuire beamed, Constance eyed her with a mixture of apprehension and apology, and Robert watched her with a small enigmatic smile.

  “Well, I was just about to—”

  “Yes, Miss Standish, please join us,” Robert said smoothly. “You might not know, Mrs. McGuire, but Miss Standish is already a friend of my family.” He turned on the charm and flashed his captivating boyish dimples at Mrs. McGuire.

  The older woman turned to Robert with rosy cheeks. “No, I did not know that. Though why would I? Ellie, Mr. Chamberlain is my banker. He helped me keep my house when my husband died. Please come down to tea, my dear.”

  Ellie could do nothing but return to the ground floor. Mrs. McGuire showed them to the parlor with promises to return momentarily with refreshment.

  Robert paused at the door and allowed Constance and Ellie to enter ahead of him. Constance seated herself on the lovely rose sofa. Ellie dropped down beside her, keeping her eyes on the dark blue and old rose oriental carpet, though she watched Robert in her peripheral vision. He walked over to the window and gazed out onto the street with his hands clasped behind his back. Ellie threw Constance a quick inquiring look, but Constance gave her head a small shake and an almost imperceptible shrug of her elegant shoulders.

 

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