Time Travel 02 Nothing but Time

by Angeline Fortin

  Kate cupped her warm cheek at the memory, recalling the feel of his fingers tracing along her jaw.

  A light, female voice broke her concentration. “Miss Kallastad?”

  Kate looked up with a flush of embarrassment at being caught daydreaming to find Nathan’s mother hovering in the doorway. “Mrs. Ralston, what can I help you with?”

  “I thought… perhaps…” The woman shifted uncomfortably. “I thought I might tuck Nathan up for the evening.”

  “Oh.” Kate stood slowly setting her notebook on the table. “He went to bed about twenty minutes ago, but we can check–“

  “No, that’s quite all right.” The woman stopped Kate’s motion toward the door with a wave of her hand. “You must think I’m a terrible mother that I’m not even aware of my son’s bedtime.”

  Taking in her raised chin and straight, stiff posture, Kate now realized those gestures hid everything that Mrs. Ralston was feeling underneath and felt her head shake automatically in denial. “No, I just think that you have, culturally speaking, a way things are done, the way they have always been done and maybe you just don’t know of a different way.”

  “It wasn’t always like this, you understand,” Mrs. Ralston said defensively. “There was a time when Nate was a baby, before my mother came to live with us that things were quite different.”

  Ten minutes in Belinda Ryder’s company had told Kate everything she needed to know to interpret that statement, even if further conversation with Brand did not. If Susan Ralston was a negligent mother, Kate knew that it wasn’t because she wanted to be. It must have been hard for her to balance the mother she wanted to be with the one Mrs. Ryder deemed acceptable. “Would you like a glass of wine?”

  Mrs. Ralston started at the offer then shook her head. “Thank you, no. I will leave you to your evening then.”

  “Mummy, is that you?” Nate’s sleepy voice called from his bedroom.

  Kate could almost feel the emotion that shone so clearly on the woman’s face. There was that longing again that she’d seen the previous week. Kate imagined that, given a chance, Susan Ralston would sweep her son into her arms and never let him go. Too bad the pair hadn’t been able to find a way to grieve for the loss of father and husband together. “Or perhaps, I’ll just leave you to yours,” Kate offered softly and moved towards the door leaving Mrs. Ralston in the center of the room, a place she still was even when Kate reached the portal. Encouraging the woman to make a move, she urged, “Go on,” before slipping into the hallway.

  What a crazy family this was, each one afraid or unable to show caring and affection for one another. Kate again couldn’t imagine living in such a chilly atmosphere. Determined to give Mrs. Ralston some time alone with her son, Kate strode down the hall unconsciously heading for the staircase that would take her down the three flights to Brand’s office. As she descended she could hear conversation and polite laughter from the front parlor where the tinkling of a piano and light spilled from the open door. The guests were still up and socializing, perhaps Brand was there with them.

  Kate knew she shouldn’t go on, that she should go back to her room. It wouldn’t do for her to get caught sneaking about in the dark halls when there was company about and, even if Brand were in his study, he might not be alone. Also, his avoidance over these last days spoke volumes. He didn’t want to see her. What sort of sorry woman was she that she couldn’t take the hint and leave him alone, she wondered.

  But again, even as she asked the question, she knew the answer. Though he fought against it effectively, she had seen the desire in Brand’s eyes. He wanted her as well. There was a temptation in the attraction between them that Brand was determined to resist but she couldn’t seem to help herself. She wanted to see him again, wanted to feel those strong arms embrace her once more.

  With little adult company beyond Janice’s and the other nannies in the nursery and the stiff conversation at the upper end of the servant’s table during meals, Kate admitted that she was lonely these days, starved for intelligent conversation and entertainment. Was it simple loneliness that pulled her toward Brand? Maybe, but Kate didn’t think that was all there was to it.

  She’d had known enough men in her life to recognize attraction when it happened and had already acknowledged that this particular attraction was unlike any she’d ever known. It was no adolescent crush or hormonal urge. No, it was honest desire, womanly desire. Perhaps the first she’d ever known in her life.

  There was nothing Kate wanted more than to spend days at a time curled within Brand’s warm embrace, to feel the heat of his body radiating into hers. And, where the idea of dating David more than once had sent a shudder of dismay up her spine making her feel as if she simply wasn’t ready for a relationship of any kind, Kate also knew that, were it possible to start such a relationship with Brand, she would rush to jump in with both feet.

  She was completely losing it, Kate snorted as she took the last flight of stairs. But what woman wouldn’t when presented with an opportunity like this? Brandon Ryder was a man, all man in a way that no other male she’d ever known was. It wasn’t just the godly body he possessed that made him so. Or even the softer side she witnessed in him from time to time. Brand was confident, authoritative… aristocratic.

  Kate laughed then realizing that even if Brand thought that Kate liked him in spite of the fact that he was an earl, perhaps it was exactly why she found him so appealing.

  Wouldn’t that just be ironic?

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  “So, I guess that’s still just business you’re working on so intently there?” Kate asked after standing in the doorway of Brand’s study for nearly ten minutes watching him write furiously on the papers before him. His gorgeous brow was wrinkled in concentration as the pen darted out again and again to dip into the inkbottle he held at the ready in his left hand. It seemed that a pause in progress as long as it would take him to reach the inkwell was too long.

  Brand’s head jerked up in surprise finding her poised in the doorway and, though a slight flush colored his cheeks, once again the papers were swept into a drawer and hidden away. “Kate, what brings you here this evening? Is something amiss?”

  “Everything’s fine.” Kate waved her hand as she strolled into the room, closing the door firmly behind her. As it had been the last time she’d been here, the study was lit only by a single oil lamp on the desk. He sat like a beacon in the dark room. Unlike the last time she was there, Brand had taken off his coat and tie, unbuttoned his waistcoat and even unbuttoned several buttons on his white shirt. He looked splendidly rumpled and approachable cast in the glow as if the light came from him rather than the lamp. He was her earl from the library once more. “I think the better question is what are you up to in here when all your guests are out there?”

  “Nothing.”

  “That’s a mighty involved sounding nothing,” she teased, coming around the desk to prop her backside against it while Brand leaned back in the chair to meet her gaze. “C’mon! It must be pretty big if you’re avoiding everyone for it. What was it? A love-letter? Poetry?”

  The earl leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest and raised an aristocratic brow. “Do I look like the sort of man who writes poetry?”

  “No, but neither does Walt Whitman with that bushy beard,” she told him. “People can surprise you.”

  Harrowby sat silently staring up at her. How could Kate know that he felt that way each time he looked at her? Continually taken aback, wondering what intriguing facet would be revealed next. He was in a losing battle against her, against the lure of everything she represented to him. Kate seemed to live a life that was the complete antithesis of his own. She was carefree where he was structured, merry where he was solemn. Passionate about life when it seemed that life itself seemed to leech the passion from him.

  Even when circumstances took from her the purpose and fulfillment of a job she enjoyed, Kate still seemed to embrace the life before her. He en
vied her that, envied her the ability to thumb her nose and do things her own way.

  The moment stretched out between them, silence hanging in the air. His mind was ticking away, she could almost hear the wheels spinning. Just when Kate was certain that he wasn’t going to reply, he exhaled slowly. “You asked me once if I had ever had something that I was passionate about.”

  “I did,” she said encouragingly. “And…?”

  Brand felt his cheeks flush as he shifted uncomfortably on his seat. “I write… sometimes.”

  “I could see that… and you write very fast, too. But what do you write? Poetry?” she asked again with that teasing smile.

  “Novels.”

  “Really? What kind of novels?” Kate asked expectantly. “Dickens kind of stories?”

  “Well, no,” Brand hedged. “Are you familiar with the works of Carroll?”

  “Lewis Carroll?” Now it was Kate’s turn to be surprised, her brows rising nearly to her hairline. The Earl of Harrowby certainly didn’t look like the sort to write fantasy. “Really? Brandon Ryder, you are a man of unexpected depths. You write children’s books?”

  “Children’s books? No, not at all!” Again, Brand seemed very uncomfortable. “It’s hard to explain really but the stories I produce tend to present such bizarre scenarios I am usually uncertain as to what inspires them.”

  “Like what?”

  “In this particular tale, one of my characters has been… well, lost within a world he thought to be only a creation of his imagination. It is difficult to explain but he finds himself within a world that is of this earth but not. A world apace with but outside of his own,” he answered, his gaze sliding away from hers as if he didn’t want to be witness to her reaction at his admission.

  “Alternate reality? Parallel universes?” Kate realized with surprise. If that was what Brand was writing about, he was way before his time. “Are you serious? You write sci-fi? Er, science fiction?”

  “Science fiction? I believe I may have heard that term before,” Brand said with a frown, then shook his head. “But what is a parallel universe?”

  “There is a theory that a person can exist in different places at the same time… uh, for example, let’s say Wellington never beat Napoleon at Waterloo. There might exist a world where France rules Britain in a parallel universe,” Kate explained quickly then changed the subject before he might ask more questions. Such a concept was surely before his time. “I’d love to read your book sometime. It’d be interesting to get a peek into your mind.”

  Harrowby looked up at these words to find honest interest in Kate’s eyes. To say that it stunned him would have been an understatement, but then even he had to wonder at that. This woman’s reaction to every situation she was placed in was unlike what one might expect. Why would this moment to be any different?

  Perhaps he might let her read his tales then.

  He’d never shown his work to anyone since his mother had caught him writing one holiday when he had been home from school. It had been just before he’d become acknowledged as the Harrowby heir and just after he’d read a book by a new author, Lewis Carroll. The story had been similar in styling to those Harrowby had been writing since childhood, though perhaps more tame. It had given him reason to believe that there might be a market interested in the peculiar tales that rattled about in his mind. Harrowby had explained the novels to his mother, explained to her how he dreamed of becoming a novelist.

  His mother had read only a few pages before throwing them down with accusations that her son must be sick in the mind to create such lunacy. Her recriminations had been so vile that a sickened Harrowby had never again shown those pages to another. They were for his sole enjoyment now; all thoughts of becoming a published author were forever vanquished.

  Would Kate feel the same as his mother if she read his pages, he wondered. Or would she, as she did in so many situations, surprise him once more? Was it worth taking the risk?

  For a moment, he wondered at himself for that last question. Worth the risk of what? But an instant later, Harrowby knew. He didn’t want this unusual woman to think him mad or strange. He didn’t want to see that look of admiration that warmed her gaze each time she looked at him fade away.

  “Perhaps it would be for the best if you didn’t read them,” he said.

  “Oh, c’mon!” Kate begged. “I’m curious. I love good science fiction.”

  Harrowby groaned. “I doubt you will be pleased with what you find.”

  “I bet I will be,” she cajoled him. “Please? I promise only positive feedback, okay?”

  “Kate, Kate,” Harrowby shook his head with a reluctant chuckle after spending a moment attempting to dissect her words. “How can you possibly befuddle me any more than I already am?”

  “I like to befuddle you,” she said, reaching out to stroke his cheek.

  Harrowby felt the touch like a lightning bolt, felt lust shoot straight through him pushing aside thoughts of other worlds. No one had ever been able to draw him so quickly, so thoroughly from the stories in his mind. Usually, the next plot line was always lingering on the edge of his thoughts, but in Kate’s presence, there was only her. Without thought, his hand came up to cover hers. “You do it very well.” His voice emerged huskily, filled with the desire he knew that he should be tempering, not stoking. Harrowby cleared his throat and dropped his hand. “Sometimes it’s a wonder I can even interpret your meaning.”

  “Don’t do that,” Kate whispered.

  “Don’t do what?” he returned, idly straightening the pens on his desk blotter.

  “I like the earl in you, Brand, I really do. But I think sometimes it might be okay if you just put him away for a while.”

  “I am always an earl,” he replied stiffly.

  “Not always.”

  What happened next so stunned Harrowby that it took him a full minute to recover from the shock.

  Reaching down, Kate boldly grabbed her skirts and lifted them high until they were at her knees. Moving forward, she slid one knee next to him in the chair before swinging the other over the opposite side until she was straddling him. Hands on his shoulders, she sank down onto his lap until their faces were just inches apart.

  She knew that she was rattling him to the core. The look of utter surprise stated that clearly, but Kate couldn’t help herself. Memories of the night they had first kissed in the library haunted her dreams and lingered constantly in the corners of her mind. There was another man in Harrowby. The man she had met that night who was seductive and charming, who made her tremble by the simple reverberations of his voice alone. He had peeked out a couple times since only to be pushed aside by the staid, noble façade of Harrowby.

  Brand was in there. Her Brand.

  She wanted to see him again.

  “What do you think you are doing?” he asked gruffly, his hands tightly gripping the arms of his chair in such a way that Kate felt optimistically was to keep himself from holding her instead.

  “What do you think I am doing?” The words were softly whispered as Kate leaned in, brushing her lips across his.

  “This is entirely inappropriate.”

  The words were ground out harshly and Kate felt a surge of satisfaction. “You bet it is.”

  “Kate…”

  “Brand,” she cooed teasingly before brushing her lips across his once more.

  “Good God, woman, you will drive me insane!”

  “Join the club.”

  With that, Kate finally got from Brand what she’d been hoping for. With a groan of surrender, his fingers dove into her hair pulling her roughly forward to meet his lips in a fiery kiss. His lips parted hers and his tongue joined the melee, sweeping deeply before withdrawing so that his lips could draw upon hers, so that his teeth could pull at them.

  He pulled back, letting Kate see the hot desire in his eyes before his mouth once again ravaged hers. Kate’s moan of satisfaction followed, boiling up from deep inside. Pulled off the ribbon that bound
her hair, Brand’s big hands ran through her hair and down her back massaging their way to her hips. Once there, he gripped tightly pulling her down even as he thrust up against her.

  Kate felt a quivering in the pit of her stomach as she felt Brand’s hard length pressing against her core with just the barrier of her underclothes and his trousers between them. Overcome by more than mere feeling, she felt wild desire set her chest trembling. Weakly, her head fell to the side as yet another tumultuous moan escaped her and Brand took advantage, raking his teeth and tongue down the side of her neck before setting those lips hotly to the tendon at the curve of her shoulder.

  Whimpering desperately, Kate clung to Brand’s shoulders wondering at the fires that were burning so hot, so out of control. She had wondered, had fantasized about how it might be if Brand ever truly let go, but this! It was beyond her wildest imaginings! Nothing had ever made her feel this way. No one! It was incredible! Lust was washing over her with wave after wave of rapture. The very core of her person was trembling and it had all happened so quickly.

  Arching her back desperately, she pushed herself against his erection once more, her head spinning dizzily. Dropping back against him, Kate found his mouth with hers. Wild little cries were escaping her, passing from her mouth into his as his hands came up to cup her breasts.

  “Brand,” she whispered shakily. “Oh, my God!”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Kate’s voice cut through the lust-crazed haze that engulfed Harrowby. Gathering his wits, he pushed the instinct that had driven him moments ago aside and focused on what he was doing. He felt the weight of her breasts against his palms, felt the heat of her core pressing against him, felt her trembling breaths pant against his cheek. He felt his own heart beating a rapid tattoo inside his chest, felt his own hands shake uncontrollably with wanting.