A Twist of Fate

by Jen Bradlee

  Her hand lingered on a dark blue gown. "I fucking love this."

  Lucian laughed.

  The sound startled her. She hadn't heard him laugh, really laugh, until that moment. Hannah stared at him. "What's so funny?"

  "You have proven my case for the second stipulation." He sobered a bit. A hint of a smile lingered on his lips as he continued. "The way you speak. Words and phrases you use, not to mention the frequency of vulgar language, will confuse many in this century."

  "You want me to talk more proper...like you do?" Hannah asked. She understood the necessity for it, but it felt as though he was stifling her freedom of expression. That bothered her. In fact, most of this being stuck at the end of the nineteenth century might rile her inner independent woman. But she knew change was on the horizon.

  "I see you dislike the idea, but do you see the necessity of it?"

  She nodded, feeling a bit depressed at having to act like someone else.

  He tipped her chin up and kissed her lips softly. "Only in public, my love, when we are alone, you may speak freely."

  Better, but not exactly what she needed to hear. She frowned.

  Lucian sighed. "Very well, speak as you will, but at least keep the vulgarity to a minimum. I would very much dislike to have to cause injury to someone who accused you of being a trussed up doxy impersonating a lady."

  "Thank you," Hannah hesitated before adding, "I think."

  With a nod, Lucian kissed her forehead before walking toward the door. He pulled a large tasseled rope hanging by the frame. "I shall wait in the next room until you are dressed. Sarah shall join you momentarily."

  Once Lucian left the room, Hannah pulled the dark blue gown from the wardrobe and laid it on the bed. The silver buttons shone against the blue as it reflected the morning light. She could put it on herself, couldn't she?

  After a few moments of struggling with the buttons, Hannah threw her hands up in defeat. "How the fuck does anyone get dressed in this century?"

  She froze at the sound of the door closing behind her. She glanced over her shoulder to see a young woman in a black dress wearing a maid's apron and cap staring at her with her mouth hanging open.

  Hannah groaned. "Sorry." She buried her face in her hands and took a breath. Straightening, she turned to the young woman. "You must be Sarah. I'm Hannah."

  "Yes, ma'am." The maid did a little bob curtsey.

  Hannah stared at her, and a twinge of familiarity nagged at her. She felt as though she'd seen Sarah before, but that was impossible. Pushing the thought away, Hannah handed her the garment. "Would you help me dress? I can't seem to get the hang of it."

  The maid tilted her head in confusion before she nodded and joined Hannah by the bed. Sarah stared at her expectantly.

  Completely clueless, Hannah confessed. "Sarah, you may think I'm strange for this, but I have no idea where to start. Truth is, where I'm from, we don't wear such gowns. Would you please teach me?" She hoped this explanation would be good enough for the young woman.

  Lucian hadn't specifically told her not to reveal the truth of her situation, but it sounded like something out of a science fiction novel. She really didn't want to panic anyone, or get thrown in a nuthouse.

  "Of course, ma'am." Sarah smiled at her as she walked her through the overinflated process of dressing in the late nineteenth century. She requested Sarah not lace her corset too tightly since she was not used to the constraints of the garment.

  Sarah nodded in sympathy as she laced the corset to a bearable level.

  The process continued without injury, and Sarah smiled in appreciation as she stepped away from Hannah.

  "There is a mirror on the other side of the wardrobe, ma'am. If you'd care to see." Sarah pointed to the corner of the room.

  A floor mirror reflected Hannah's image as she stepped closer. The gown emphasized her figure and her natural coloring. She looked like she'd just walked onto a movie set.

  "Wow," Hannah mumbled to herself.

  "I can style your hair too if you'd like." Sarah stood off to the side waiting.

  "If it's not too much trouble." Hannah spun around looking for a place to sit.

  "Sit here then." Sarah gestured to a chair in front of a small vanity with a mirror.

  Hannah sat and closed her eyes as Sarah set to work. She'd always liked having her hair done. It was like getting a massage. She felt the stress of the situation begin to fade.

  A knock at the door made her eyes open.

  Lucian stood in the doorway. "Are you..." His words stopped when he saw her.

  Hannah smiled. She loved that she stole the words right off his tongue.

  "All finished, ma'am," Sarah said as she backed away.

  "Thank you, Sarah." Hannah rose from her seat and crossed to where Lucian stood. "I believe I'm ready for my tour."

  "I can see that." He cleared his throat and offered his arm. "Shall we?"

  Hannah nodded with excitement.

  He laughed.

  As they strode through the room Hannah recognized as the Founder's Suite, she glanced at the fireplace where they'd had sex the night before. Her body warmed at the thought of Lucian making love to her again.

  "We can forgo the tour if you would rather have an encore performance," he said with a longing gaze toward the fireplace. Lucian leaned close. "I still haven't tasted your sweet cunt."

  His whisper made her shiver. She'd just taken all that time to dress. Hannah always hated her practical side. "Later. I'm already dressed. Besides, you promised a tour."

  Lucian sighed. "Very well." He brought his lips to the soft spot just below her ear. "I shall have my fill of you before this day is through."

  If he continued to tease her, she would end up dragging him back to the bedroom and having her wicked way with him.

  He drew back and opened the door leading to the hallway. "After you, my love."

  The hotel looked extremely different than she remembered it. The décor seemed richer, more vibrant, down to the details in the wallpaper and the wooden accents along the walls and ceiling. Hannah felt as though she was walking through a museum. A living museum. Excitement coursed through her.

  They approached the elevator, and Hannah paused. She remembered Andrew saying something about the original elevators. Then she remembered when the cage-like box rose in the shaft. It stopped on their floor, and a man gestured for them to enter.

  Lucian allowed Hannah to enter first. Her curiosity drew her deeper. She touched the gilded cage and admired the craftsmanship.

  "Lobby."

  "Yes, sir." The one word command from Lucian was all the man needed. He closed the gate and pressed a button on the panel.

  When the elevator began its descent, Hannah grasped Lucian's arm to steady herself. He covered her hand with his and offered her a reassuring smile.

  She remembered Lucian's composure as she pulled him around in her time, but now the tables had turned, Hannah felt uneasy and unsteady in a different century. She studied his profile. He'd been calm and levelheaded under the circumstances. Hannah admired him even more, and finally understood his strange reactions when she'd first met him.

  Once the elevator reached the lobby, he escorted her through the grand lobby. She noted the similarities and many of the differences between the original hotel and the one she knew so well. The fountain she loved still stood in the center of the lobby. The Starbucks replaced with a small stand selling flowers and other assorted gift items. The restaurant area seemed smaller and quaint, like a café from an old movie.

  She watched the patrons as they went about their day. Hannah noticed the reserved pace, the simple atmosphere. No cell phones ringing, no background noise, no buzzing of electronics. People actually spoke to each other. They weren't buried in their laptops or phones. It was refreshing. Although part of her missed the comfort of her phone and having unlimited information at her fingertips. There were tradeoffs.

  Lucian led her to a table in the small café.

>   Her stomach growled at the scent of food and fresh coffee. She hadn't realized how hungry she was until that moment.

  He pulled out a chair for her.

  "Thank you." She took the offered seat.

  He settled into the chair opposite her, and within moments, a waiter appeared to take their order. Lucian motioned to Hannah to order with a glint of humor in his eyes.

  She glared at him and then turned her attention to the waiter. "May I have eggs, bacon, toast, and some coffee please?" Hannah had no idea what kind of meals they offered or if she'd just completely confused the poor waiter. She wanted to throw a shoe at Lucian's head.

  "As you wish, madam." The waiter nodded as though her order was nothing out of the ordinary. He turned his attention to Lucian. "And for you, sir?"

  "The usual, James."

  The waiter tipped his head and left.

  "That was mean," Hannah said, her voice low.

  "I did not think you would appreciate if I ordered for you." His lips twitched.

  "I didn't even have a menu," she said with a pout.

  "You recovered quickly." He leaned back. "We could have just stayed in my suite and ordered room service."

  The implication of his words left her speechless. Hannah wanted to be angry with him, but all she could feel at the moment was the heat of his gaze and the need churning deep in the pit of her stomach.

  At that moment, the waiter returned with two cups and a pot of coffee. Hannah had never been more grateful for an interruption in her life. James, as Lucian had called him before, poured the beverage and then left.

  Hannah picked up her cup and savored the warm, rich aroma of the brew. She took a hesitant sip. It tasted like heaven, even without half and half.

  Lucian held his cup in one hand and took a drink. His gaze drifted between her and the hotel café around them.

  "How long have you known Andrew?" Lucian asked.

  His question surprised her, and a pang of longing for her friend pierced her heart. Will I ever see him again? She cradled the cup in her hands. Before the tears could come, she blinked them away and met Lucian's curious eyes.

  "Since I was a baby," she replied. "My father worked with him at the hotel back when Andrew was the manager. He's been a friend of my family's for years."

  Lucian tapped his finger on the side of the cup. "How long has Andrew worked for my hotel?"

  Hannah tried to remember what Andrew had told her. He explained it all to her once, perhaps more than once. She furrowed her brow as she thought.

  "Well, he just turned eighty-five years old. He started working at the hotel as a bellhop when he was sixteen. So..." She mentally did the math. "Sixty-nine years."

  Lucian's brows rose in surprise.

  "He said he worked as a bellhop first, then he worked in maintenance as a janitor. After that they put him at the front desk. That was after he met his wife. The last official position he held was as the hotel manager. But he retired from that when I was ten, after my parents died." Hannah shrugged. "Since then, he's been the hotel's historian and resident storyteller, as well as my guardian. He organizes and hosts all the historic tours of the hotel as well as offers information for tourists who are new to the area."

  "He has been very loyal to this hotel then." Lucian took a drink.

  "It's like he has some kind of attachment to it, like it's part of his identity somehow." She laughed. "We always teased him it was more like home than his own home." Her eyes blurred with tears. She wiped them away and sniffed. Her heart ached.

  Lucian handed her his handkerchief. "You miss him."

  Hannah nodded then laughed. "He's probably going crazy right now wondering where I am. Although I don't think he'd believe the truth." She sniffed and dabbed her eyes with the linen. "Then again, he used to tell me stories of employees who went missing." She paused. "I always thought he was trying to scare me, but..." She bit her lip.

  There was no way. He wouldn't. Maybe all those stories were supposed to be a warning because he knew the truth.

  "Lucian." She leaned closer. "When I found you with Andrew last night at the masquerade ball, what were you talking about?"

  The waiter arrived at that moment carrying their food. He placed the plates before them and, after checking if they needed anything else, took his leave.

  Hannah stared at the steaming plate heaped full of scrambled eggs and crispy bacon with a side of toast. Her stomach grumbled, but she'd lost her appetite. She forced herself to pick up the fork and take a few bites.

  Silence lingered between them as they ate. She glanced at Lucian who seemed to be enjoying what looked like eggs with gravy and a seared steak.

  She sighed and took another bite. He was avoiding her question.

  They ate the rest of their meal without another word.

  Hannah pushed her plate away and finished the coffee in her cup. Rather than make a scene and demand what he and Andrew had talked about, she bit her lip.

  Lucian wiped his mouth with his napkin and set it aside. Once he rose to his feet, he offered his hand to her.

  "Come with me," he said simply.

  She pursed her lips, trying to ignore the strength of his arm beneath the jacket and the intoxicating scent of him. Her irritation lingered in the back of her mind.

  They returned to the Founder's Suite, Lucian's private apartment. Once inside, Hannah spun on him.

  "You're lucky my Gram taught me not to make a scene!" She jabbed her finger in his chest. "Why won't you answer me? What did you say to Andrew last night?"

  Lucian pulled a case from his inside jacket pocket and removed a cigarette. He lit it, tossing the match into the fireplace.

  The scent teased her nose. It wasn't a traditional cigarette, not like she remembered. It had a deeper scent of tobacco and a hint of spice, almost like a cigar. It wasn't unpleasant, but she avoided the smoke by walking toward the window while he lingered by the fireplace.

  "You're hiding something, damn it." Hannah swore she wouldn't throw something at him if he just opened his mouth and said something.

  He leaned against the mantle and watched her. Lucian took a drag and blew the smoke in agitation.

  Hannah reached for the small vase on the table next to her.

  "Hannah," he said. "Do not resort to violence."

  She pulled her hand back. "Then answer me," she said turning toward him.

  "Andrew pulled me aside when I approached the drink table." He ran his hand through his hair. "Before I could speak, he told me the story of how he met his wife."

  Hannah crossed her arms.

  "Have you ever met his wife?"

  She shook her head. "She died before I was born. Although I have seen photographs of her at Andrew's house. He keeps a photo of them on his desk at work too."

  "Has he ever told you her name?"

  Hannah thought for a moment when it came to her. "Sarah."

  "Has he ever told you how they met?"

  "He was working at the hotel, and she appeared 'like a vision from the heavens'." Hannah froze. "Wait, no." She glanced at the bedroom where the maid helped her that morning. "My maid...her name was Sarah." She shook her head. "It can't be."

  Hannah collapsed onto the chair next to the window.

  Lucian tossed the cigarette into the fire and came to her side. He knelt beside her. "I could not believe it either, had I not already been transported in the same manner."

  "How?" Hannah whispered.

  "Shortly after he started working for maintenance, he had been asked to fix the flue of that fireplace." Lucian glanced over his shoulder at the intricate structure. "One minute he was alone, and the next, Sarah stood before him."

  "Like she appeared from heaven." Hannah trembled. "He knew. All this time, he knew."

  Lucian took her hand. "There is more."

  "Oh, God, I don't think I can handle this." She stared at her hand cradled in his. The warmth flowed through her, giving her a little strength.

  "You said yoursel
f, Andrew knows more about the history of this hotel than anyone else."

  Her gaze snapped up to meet his. "Are you saying he knew about us, about this before it all happened?"

  Lucian nodded. "I think in some strange way, he also ensured it would happen. As though fate bound us all together."

  "Oh, God," she said with a groan. "He's the one who got me the job at the hotel."

  "There is one more thing he told me last night," Lucian added.

  "What?" Hannah stared at him afraid of what words might come spilling from his mouth.

  "He instructed me on what to do in order to return to my own time," Lucian said.

  Hannah shot to her feet, nearly knocking Lucian over in the process. She sidestepped to get away from him but tripped over the hem of her gown and fell to the floor.

  "Goddamn it!" She struggled to climb to her feet but ended up in a mass of fabric and tears. She buried her face in her hands and sobbed.

  Lucian's touch on her wrist made her flinch. She slapped his hand away.

  "Don't you touch me!" She snapped and glared at him. "You tricked me. That's why I'm here. You seduced me and somehow dragged me back to the stone ages!" Anger flared inside of her.

  He grabbed her wrists and hauled her to her feet. She yelped when he lifted her in his arms and carried her into the bedroom. He kicked the door shut behind him and threw her down onto the bed.

  Hannah stared up at him and wiped the tears from her cheeks with angry swipes of her hand. "If you think I'm anything like the women you have in this century, you're sadly mistaken. I sure as hell am not going to let you manhandle me!"

  Lucian loosened his cravat and pulled it off. He paced as he removed his jacket and unbuttoned the top three buttons of his shirt.

  She stared, trying to ignore the simmering tension between them. Hannah wanted him to fuck her more than she wanted anything in her life, but knowing that he'd tricked her into returning to his century infuriated her.

  When he rolled up his sleeves, her mouth watered. His forearms flexed as he rested his hands on his hips and stopped to look down at her splayed on his bed.