His words caressed her heart, melting away any reason to ignore her growing passion for him. But this was all wrong for so many reasons, she reminded herself. Wrong for her, for Jonathan, and for Galen, but her heart refused to listen. It wasn’t so much who he was, but how she felt when she was around him. Inside she felt free, unbridled, and strong. Jonathan had transformed her into a woman who could play with the sun and dance with the moon. She was a woman willing to take a chance. But words that would say as much died in her throat. She freed her hand from his grasp and stepped back, realizing her own control was waning.
“And I thought much of you as well.” She took a deep breath. “In truth, I tried to forget you after you left.” Her fingertips touched the parchment still tucked in her sleeve. “But it seems as though I have failed quite miserably.”
Continuing after a deep breath, she stammered, “I penned a letter when I...when I realized my life would not be the same after that night.” She slipped the letter from her sleeve and held it in her hands, her fingertips grazing the folds. Though the gray-white paper felt weightless and appeared harmless, in truth, she knew, the words it held could well cause pain for the both of them. “Perhaps this is best forgotten,” she said quietly.
“Please.” His voice slid over her like silk. “May I read it?”
Looking into his eyes was her undoing. She wanted him to know. She needed him to know. He has changed her, and like a flower catching the light of the sun, her feelings would only continue to grow. Slowly, she handed the letter to him.
He looked at her and waited for her approval before unfolding it.
Catherine nodded.
My dearest Jonathan,
I write this to you with the hope you will read it one day. I know not where your ship sails, but you have taken my heart with you. The gray skies stretch out endlessly, casting gloom upon me. I shiver. Not from cold, but from fear. I fear for your safety. I fear my heart will break. I fear I shall go mad if you do not return soon. At day’s end I see the sun fall slowly behind the water’s edge. I watch as the sun burns a hole into the sea, burying itself, to lie in wait for morning so that it may shine brightly once again. The sun is much like my feelings for you. They have burned a hole in my soul, buried there, waiting, until your ship brings you back to me.
She watched his face as he read. Now he would know he held her heart in his hands, but she had no regrets.
Jonathan pushed his hand through his hair, staring a moment longer at the letter before his eyes rested upon hers. A smile curved his lips.
She had not known how much softer his eyes could become.
“These words were written so long ago, Catherine. Do they still hold true?”
She felt her heart would burst. Never before had she felt this way. The wall around her heart was crumbling, exposing feelings so new, so raw, it hurt. Catherine hesitated before slowly nodding.
“Aye, they are still true, Jonathan.” She took a deep breath and looked over at Emelie. How she wished she were free to love whom she pleased as was her maid. “But I know they are wrong.”
She could not look at him now, so great was her confusion. She only knew she did not want to cause him pain.
“It can never be wrong if it makes you happy, Catherine.” He stooped, leveling his face with hers.
“So you say, Jonathan.” She sighed. “But I know there is no help for it.” She raised her eyes, unashamed. “I have written others letters, but they remain hidden away.”
He lightly touched her hand. “I should like to see them.”
“Should like to see what? What have you hidden, Sister?”
Sara stood with her hands on her hips with Elizabeth peering around her, eyes wide with curiosity.
Sara’s snarling lips distorted her face. “What is that?” She nodded at the letter Jonathan held.
Casually Jonathan tucked it into his boot. “Sara!” He brought her hand to his lips. “Is it possible for you to have grown lovelier since I last saw you?”
At once her face softened and she looked at him from under her eyelashes.
Catherine turned to her sister, smiling sweetly. “Sara, you delight us with your presence so early this morning. We usually do not see you until midday.”
Sara glared at Catherine. “Are you unescorted?” she demanded.
Catherine’s forehead tightened. How dare Sara challenge her thus!
“Emelie escorted your sister, Sara.” Jonathan said, calmly. He gestured to where Emelie and Cedric stood. “It seems as though she has found favor with Cedric.”
Sara’s face twisted with fury. “You are indulging your chambermaid? Since when have you gone soft with the servants?”
“Take care with your words, Sara. Your tongue seems to be sharp of late.”
The air between the two was palpable as they faced each other.
Sara broke the silence, glancing between Catherine and Jonathan. “Father was inquiring as to your whereabouts this morning. He wanted to speak about some plans he had for you.”
“And did you tell him where I was?” Catherine felt a cold sweat creep along her spine. If her father knew where she was, then so would Galen.
Sara’s disdain for her sister was etched in every movement of her face. “How am I to know where you scamper off to from one moment to the next? I did not know where you were, nor did I care. But had I known,” she added, turning to Jonathan, “mayhap I would have come sooner.”
Catherine rolled her eyes. Catherine’s wish to share time with Jonathan was dashed the moment Sara appeared. Even if Catherine were successful in sending her away, it would only be a matter if time before her spiteful sister would tell Galen where she was. Catherine cursed the knowledge that she must leave while Sara would undoubtedly stay...with Jonathan.
“Come, Sara,” Catherine said tightly. “We must be taking our leave. I am certain Father will want to see you and I both.”
Sara dragged her eyes from Jonathan and looked around the port. “No, Catherine. It is you he wishes to see. My morning is my own.” Sara looked between her sister and Jonathan and, as if struck by a sudden thought, her lips curled upwards in a smug grin, her eyes alight with mischief. “Besides, I have things to attend to.” She lifted her chin and turned on her heel, her hips swaying invitingly.
Catherine glared at Sara’s retreating figure, fuming at her sister’s smug expression and the hint of maliciousness that had danced in her eyes. What, pray tell, was her sister up to?
She turned to Jonathan, her eyes full of regret. “I must see what my father bids of me, Jonathan.”
“Of course you must.” Jonathan’s smile was encouraging. His fingers traced the line of her jaw. “I do not set sail for another two days. We will see each other again. That I promise you,” he said meaningfully.
She nodded. His eyes told her all she wanted to know.
Jonathan turned and whistled to Cedric, then took her hands in his and brought them up to his lips. “Do not look so forlorn, Catherine. If we so will it, nothing can stop us from being together.”
Her smile dimmed. She wished she were as certain as he.
Chapter 23
His humming sounded neither happy nor sad. It was almost like a small motor, the only thing that kept the old man alive. The steady drone kept time with his meticulous poking and sifting through the trash in the cans that dotted the beach. Peering into crumpled bags and Styrofoam containers, he ignored Eryn, who stood next to him, lining him up in her viewfinder. Against a backdrop of a surfer cutting across the face of a wave, her shutter captured the calm determination of the old man, his face weathered by the elements. The flash of the bright yellow surfboard, as its rider flipped it up over the crest of the wave, provided an interesting contrast for Eryn.
Young and old. Freedom and imprisonment. Life and death.
Eryn looked at the plastic bag the old man gripped in his gnarled fist. It held a few cans. Hardly worth his effort. She walked to her backpack she had placed in the sand and pulled out a paper bag
. She smiled. It would ease his hunger and ease her conscience. The Have’s and the Have-Not’s.
“Excuse me, sir.” She gently grasped his hand and placed the bag in his palm.
His eyes, set deep within wrinkled folds of his aged face, searched hers suspiciously.
“Please,” Eryn said softly. “Enjoy.”
His crinkled smile was reward enough when he realized what he held. He nodded and smiled, and kept smiling, as she turned and walked away. Eryn found his smile contagious. She picked up her beach chair and backpack, and walked further down the beach, past the pier, and found her place of solitude.
Her chair sank into the sand as she settled herself into it, and pulled out a pad of paper and pen from her backpack. To her right the ragged cliffs jutted out onto the water, the rock stubbornly rigid against the waves. To her left the beach stretched out endlessly, interrupted only by the pier that cut a path over the water. Joggers usually turned around at the pier, so, except for the occasional walker, this spot on the beach was relatively private.
She watched as an older couple made their way silently in her direction, stopping every few steps to pick something up and then throw it into the water. An occasional shell found its way into their pockets.
She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Where to start? She tilted her head back and closed her eyes against the sun. Any other time the whisper of the tide creeping up the sand would be soothing to her, but not today.
She had to sort things out. With each new dream he was becoming more and more real. It was a wakeup call, but she had no idea how to answer. With resolve, Eryn straightened up and stared down at the blank sheet of paper in front of her. It seemed to wait patiently for her to gather her thoughts.
“This is nuts,” she said out loud, looking again to the water. “How can I feel so strongly about someone I can’t see?” She shook her head. It really didn’t matter how. Her dreams held enough passion to bleed into her reality. The way he made her feel was real.
She turned her attention back to the page, her pen poised. Okay. Here I go.
Her pen moved slowly at first as the words struggled to flow, but gained momentum as she realized they were words she needed to write.
You made me remember, and I’m not entirely sure I like it. My life may not be happy, but at least I am happy not knowing how unhappy I really am, if that makes sense. But then nothing does anymore. This just complicates things, and I don’t do well with things that complicate my life. I have always felt there is a part of me missing, and now I know why. I can feel what is between us. It is a love that has followed me through time. It feels so good and at the same time, it’s so painful. Good because I know love like that does exist. Painful because I don’t have it. All I know is that you make me whole. You are the other half of me.
There, she’d written it. Her words were true, coming from her heart. She drew a deep breath and let her pen flow over the paper again.
I dreamed of you the other night. You were on the deck of a magnificent ship, sparkling waters all around. You were standing on the rails looking out, squinting into the sun to see the horizon. I knew you were going away. I told you that if you forgot me, it would break my heart. Then you were gone. I tried to find you, but I was lost. No one could or would tell me where you were. I miss you. I need you. Don’t leave me to be alone. Stay with me. I am forever yours.
Eryn read her words again and again. The feelings were so vivid now, imprinted on her soul. He wouldn’t let her forget. He had reached across the centuries and made her remember.
But now, in this life, she had Bryce. It wasn’t always so bad. Bryce loved her and always stood by her side. Sure, he had a hard time showing he loved her, but she could do a whole lot worse than a marriage without passion, right? Besides, he needs me. Deep down, he needs me. He told me so.
But her soul wouldn’t accept it. You’re always trying to make everyone happy. What about you? When are you going to make yourself happy?
Eryn drew in a deep breath. She wasn’t so sure she could be happy knowing she made him miserable. She needed to try to make this work. She would still have her dreams. Though her heart belonged elsewhere, her mind and body belonged to Bryce.
The struggle ceased, but even with the decision made, she had a hard time holding back the tears.
≈
The hollowness in her chest was forgotten the instant Eryn saw Brandi sitting against the wall by the front door, beer in one hand, cigarette in the other, eyes closed. Even as Eryn pulled the car onto the driveway, Brandi didn’t open her eyes. Not a good sign.
It had been a couple of weeks since Brandi had been around. It had been pretty nice, actually. Eryn had called, but Brandi’s phone had been disconnected. Now, the sight of her friend, looking a little more than defeated, brought on the guilt Eryn had managed to ignore. She hadn’t tried hard enough to find out why Brandi hadn’t been coming around or why her phone was out.
Eryn watched as her friend tipped the bottle to her lips and finished off the beer. She sensed that this was more than Brandi not getting a part in a movie. Something was really wrong this time.
She turned off the engine and got out of the car, shoving her keys in her pocket. “Brandi? You okay?” She knelt in front of Brandi and took the empty bottle from her hand, placing it into the carton with the other five empty bottles.
“Hey,” Eryn coaxed.
“He broke up with me,” Brandi slurred. “Asked me to move in with him and then he kicked me out.”
Eryn sat up straighter. “So that’s where you’ve been? At Troy’s house?”
“At least he paid for the abortion before calling me a whore and throwing my shit out the door.”
“You were pregnant?” The words stuck in her throat. “God, Brandi, how could you be so careless?”
Brandi laughed. “I thought that would make him happy. Stupid me.” She hit her head against the wall behind her a few times.
“Bastard.” Eryn spat out.
Brandi sat up straighter and opened her eyes. Usually so careful with her appearance, her eyes were puffy and without makeup, her cheeks stained from crying. “Don’t be too hard on him. I knew he never really wanted me.” She sounded resigned, but there was an edge of hardness in her voice. “I thought by getting you out of the way it would help us, but I think it just pissed him off.”
Eryn remembered her last conversation with Troy. Yeah, pissed off was a fairly accurate description.
The glassiness in Brandi’s eyes disappeared as she stared at Eryn. “It was you he really wanted.”
There it was. Brandi was blaming her for this and she wasn’t going to let Eryn off the hook.
“I have nowhere to go,” Brandi said matter-of-factly.
Eryn returned her hard stare. She should just get up, go inside, and close the door between them. It was always going to be like this. She was never going to make Brandi happy.
A group of neighborhood kids filtered out from the house next door, kicking around a soccer ball, their shouts filling the air. The sun bore down directly overhead, heating up the roses lining the front of the house, sending out their potent fragrance. But Eryn wasn’t aware of any of it. The coldness and the blame in Brandi’s eyes made her shiver. Now Eryn had no choice. She had to fix it.
“You can have the guest room for as long as you need it.”
Brandi nodded her satisfaction. She pushed herself up and held onto the wall for support. The two looked at each other and in that moment Eryn could feel their friendship die. But Eryn didn’t care anymore. She was tired of being blamed, tired of being the one to pick up the pieces. As soon as Brandi got herself together, as soon as she was able to move out, Eryn would finally walk away. Until then…
“How do you feel?” Eryn asked.
“Like crap.”
Eryn nodded. She unlocked the front door and held it open for her new housemate. She sighed. Bryce wasn’t going to like this.
Chapter 24
“Cath
erine, what say you?”
Together they walked through the gardens. The roses were in full bloom, gracing the gardens with their intoxicating fragrance. Galen picked a brilliant yellow rose and presented it to Catherine.
She absent-mindedly inhaled the sweet fragrance of the petals, but his question did not penetrate Catherine’s mind, so filled was it with her own musings.
Tonight a ball would be held in honor of her eighteen summers. Months ago, invitations had been sent out. In recent days, hunting parties brought back game, fresh flowers had been cut, tapestries cleaned, floors swept, and rooms aired. The castle was bustling with last minute preparations.
This had been an evening she had played out in her mind a hundred times. She would be dressed in her finery, jewels adorning her hair and slender neck. Galen would be by her side, staving off advances of potential suitors. So many months ago she told herself that if true love had not yet found her, then this night would mark the beginning of their courtship. She would accept her future with Galen.
But true love did find her, and in its wake left her yearning for a man she could not have. How she longed to ask Jonathan to attend the ball, but that, she knew, would never come to pass. Her father would never allow it. Nor would Galen.
“Will you have me?” Galen’s voice held a note of pleading.
The meaning behind his words finally took shape in her mind. He was again asking her to be his wife.
She could not respond.
Quickly he said, “I do not wish to rush an answer from you.” He raked his fingers through his hair, his laugh shaky. “I fear my desire to have you as my wife far exceeds my patience.” He took her hands in his and his thumbs smoothed across them. “In truth,” he said, not looking up, “I would wait a thousand lifetimes for you.”
His hair draped down like a curtain, hiding his face, but it could not hide the quiver in his voice.
Though his words spoke of forever, Catherine wondered if he truly would wait. Would he not grow weary and marry another?
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