Time Travel 02 Nothing but Time

by Angeline Fortin

  Another carriage ground to a halt and both women turned to see Belinda Ryder emerge from the conveyance with several of the houseguests falling out behind her. With her black gown and hat, gaunt face and cold, piercing eyes, Kate thought the woman gave the impression of the Angel of Death descending to snatch Kate up after all. Kate’s lips twisted in wry amusement. Or, at the very least, terrorize her into an early grave.

  “Really, Susan, whatever are you about?” Mrs. Ryder tsked her disapproval. “She is but a servant, unhand her. Now, I heard about that unseemly spectacle my grandson created today. Where is he?”

  “Miss Kallastad saved Nathan’s life today, Mother,” Susan said defensively though her arm did slide off Kate’s shoulders. “I am merely thanking her for her efforts.”

  Mrs. Ryder surveyed Kate up and down with a sniff.

  “She deserves your thanks as well, Mother.” This came from Brand who had reemerged from the house in time to hear his sister’s words and see his mother’s response. His caring tones from the carriage were gone, however. His tone was frigid as he addressed his mother.

  Mrs. Ryder’s lips tightened in reluctance, but as if she were more aware of the audience at her back than the threat in her son’s tone, she offered, “Yes, Miss Kallastad, many thanks.”

  Wow, there was no chance of getting a warm, fuzzy feeling from that woman, Kate thought as she bobbed a proper curtsey.

  “Go and dry off, Miss Kallastad,” Susan whispered softly and Kate turned to go, more than willing to flee Mrs. Ryder’s frosty glare.

  Brand was there waiting for her and Kate gathered up her wet skirts, following his gesture that she should precede him inside. Once in the door, he caught up with her and Kate felt his warm hand surround hers. She looked at him in surprise but he only gave her an assuring squeeze before releasing her.

  The contact was brief, falling far short of the comfort both desired. Not so brief, however, that it didn’t go unnoticed by many however only one pair of eyes narrowed in hawk-eyed glare.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Later that night

  He just couldn’t stay away. The truth would have amused Harrowby if he hadn’t been so disturbed by it. He had resolved to give Kate time to recuperate after her ordeal yet, there he was, his guests left to his mother’s tender mercies so that he might pursue Kate in her own rooms with half the house yet awake. His inability to set thoughts of her aside over the space of a single evening did not sit too well with him when combined with the strength of the fear he had felt at the potential loss of her that afternoon. The drive to hold her in his arms had only multiplied itself since he had denied it earlier. He needed her in his arms, to assure himself of her health and wellbeing.

  Kate and Nathan both, after being bathed and pampered through the afternoon, had refused the need for bed rest and had, instead, carried on as if nothing happened. In fact, he had come by earlier expecting them both to be abed only to find them sitting across from one another on the floor with their legs crossed, playing cards in their hands. His nephew held his hand fanned just inches beneath his nose with a wicked look on his face. Though he was curious, as always when presented with their activities, Harrowby had slipped away, certain that fate had stepped in to steer his actions back to a more proper course.

  However, Harrowby could not dismiss the near tragedy from him mind and he thought perhaps Susan could not either, though not entirely for the same reasons. Harrowby knew that he’d come close not only to losing his nephew but also a woman who was quickly coming to mean more to him than he might have imagined. Not just the object of his physical desires but those buried deep within his heart.

  As Susan had mothered and nearly smothered her son with loving affection through the afternoon, Harrowby had longed to do the same not only for Nathan but for Kate as well. Life was a fragile thing, he was starting to understand. Such a realization made him want to act on his impulses before the opportunity was forever taken from him.

  To hold another close.

  To confess to them the feelings in his heart.

  It was disarming to be awash with such urges when he’d never felt the like in all his days.

  But that was Kate, he admitted. Ever disarming.

  Now, returning to her chambers once more, any noble intentions fled and Harrowby’s mind blanked when he found her door ajar and a peek inside revealed to him a most pleasing vision.

  Kate was lounging back on a chaise near the window. The light cast by a nearby lamp spilled across her, highlighting shadows and curves. Her long skirts were pulled up above her knees, one leg was bent and tucked under the other that was hanging off the side of the chaise and swinging freely. She was shoeless and the top several buttons on her bodice were undone.

  She looked utterly – what was her word from the previous evening? – sexy. He liked the term simply because she was more than merely beautiful and desirable. Sexy seemed earthier somehow, more basic. Harrowby felt himself harden with unbidden lust once more. He should have known better than to seek her out. Their conversation that afternoon, Kate’s acquiescence to the idea of becoming lovers created an undeniable magnetism that seemed to leave him powerless to her pull and brushed aside any altruistic inclinations he might have had.

  As he watched, Kate ran her fingers idly through her loose dark hair making his fingers itch to do the same. She caught a lock at the end and twisted it around her finger as she concentrated on the page before her. She was clearly lost in what she read… and what she was reading was his novel.

  Harrowby watched her expression as her eyes glided to the right before dashing back to the left. Her brow furrowed once, the corner of her mouth turning down but then, the expression lit and those luscious lips turned upward instead. A few moments later, she released a huff of silent amusement.

  Kate was enjoying the tale, he realized.

  Damn, if that didn’t make him want her all the more.

  He must have made some motion for Kate suddenly turned to him, her lips parting in a full welcoming smile that sent a rush of heat not only to Harrowby’s loins but also to every extremity of his body. By God, but she was a lovely woman!

  “Hey, Brand,” she welcomed him lazily, “come on in and sit for a while, why don’t ya.”

  Harrowby shook his head against her informal invitation even as his feet propelled him into the room. Unconsciously, he shut the door behind him. “Perhaps I should give you a moment to arrange yourself in a more lady-like fashion.”

  “Hmmm?” Kate frowned before looking down at her bared legs. “Ugh, what a bother. Does it really matter? Surely an exposed calf can’t be that big of a deal.”

  “On the contrary,” he replied in a low tone. “A well-turned ankle has been known to make beasts of mortal men.”

  Kate laughed, straightening her bent leg to lay it alongside the other before pulling her skirts up even further, ostensibly to examine the view. She lifted one long leg out before her, aware that Brand’s eyes were roving the limb hungrily. With a devious smile, she flipped her skirts back down covering her leg to the toe. “That’s such bullshit, you know. There’s just no way. It’s not as if you can actually see anything through these stockings. They remind me of my dad’s wool hunting socks. Not particularly alluring.”

  “Yet they are infinitely sexy,” he returned, drawling the last word slowly as if he were enjoying the sound of it rolling off his tongue.

  She only laughed some more. “Now I know you’re kidding… unless you’re the kind of man who prefers footie pajamas to a negligee.”

  “Footie pajamas?” he queried, sitting stiffly at the end of the chaise as Kate had invited with a pat of her hand.

  “They’re sort of like long johns but with feet attached. Do you know what those are?”

  Harrowby just shook his head once more. “I’m sorry, no.”

  With a frown, Kate tried to think of another variation of the long underwear, but came up with nothing. “Well, let’s just say, they are traditional
ly the most un-sexy sleepwear known to man.”

  A smile lifted the corner of Harrowby’s mouth, lighting his expression. “Where ever did you learn these expressions, Kate? It is at once charming yet quite disarming. I never know what you are going to say next. Are you not aware of how inappropriate it is to speak with a gentleman regarding your underclothes?”

  “I’m betting you’d consider ninety-nine percent of the conversations we have where I come from inappropriate, Brand,” Kate told him. “It’s a no holds barred ti– place. There’s no topic too risqué, no subject taboo.”

  “I find that hard to believe.”

  “I could tell you tons of things you wouldn’t believe,” she replied with a twist of her lips.

  “Such as?”

  “Such as having public demonstrations where people get together to talk about their sex lives. Where daughters talk about their mothers having affairs with their own husbands or wives sleeping with dozens of different men to the extent that they are unable to be sure who fathered their babies,” she told him, thinking of the handful of horrid talk shows that fascinated some of her college friends but appalled Kate.

  “You jest.”

  “No, they do it right out there for everyone to hear about,” she assured him with a wave of her hand. “It is awful really but people just can’t seem to keep their noses out of other people’s business or stop being fascinated by all the terrible things people will do.”

  It appalled Harrowby as well but, after a moment of reflection, he shrugged in acceptance. “I must admit the gossip mongers in London are almost as bad. They pretend to act as if their words cannot be overheard, but in truth, they seek only to rain scandal down upon some unsuspecting soul.”

  “Yeah, they’re just like a train wreck.” Kate nodded. “Most people just can’t look away.”

  He shrugged, his attention clearly not on the subject, Kate saw, but rather on the rhythmic flutter of Kate’s skirts where her swinging foot continued to upset the long garment.

  Kate suppressed a smile that she was distracting him so and kicked it up higher, sending the skirts high and revealing another glimpse of her ankles. “This whole conversation is a train wreck so let me change it. What brings you up here tonight, Brand?”

  “I wanted to assure myself of your wellbeing,” he finally offered gruffly.

  “As you can see, I’m fine.”

  “You worried me today.” Brand reached out and stroked her cheek. The rough texture of his fingers sent shivers of awareness through her. Leaning forward, Kate sank into his arms with a sigh, completing the act that both had longed for since that afternoon.

  “I didn’t get a chance to thank you for saving me today,” she spoke softly into his shirt. “It never occurred to me that those skirts would be so heavy.”

  “It was my pleasure.”

  “I’m glad you were there.”

  “I will always do my best to save your life as needed,” he whispered teasingly.

  Kate smiled against his chest and drawled back, “Well, I appreciate that, thank you.”

  For several long moments, Kate luxuriated in their embrace. Brand stroked her back then her hair tenderly and she closed her eyes reveling in the warmth – not only of his body – but also of his caring. “Speaking of today, I’d like to get back to our previous conversation,” Kate said, easing back to meet his gaze. “So, if I have the right of it, you’ve been avoiding me the past week because you don’t want to ruin my reputation.”

  “Yes, though perhaps not in the beginning,” he allowed. “In a normal situation, I would never engage in such a relationship with one of my staff.”

  “But?”

  Brand smiled down at her and grasped her chin pulling her forward to press a soft kiss to the tip of Kate’s nose. “Fishing for compliments, Kate? But this is beyond a normal situation. You have bewitched me, darling Kate. I haven’t the desire to fight it any longer but I must do what I can to preserve your reputation. While Society allows for a man of my station to have as many lovers as he likes, a household such as mine – the hierarchy of the household, I guess you might say – is not as forgiving. A connection to me could make your life difficult.”

  “Any suggestions?”

  “We would need to keep our liaisons a secret, I suppose.” Brand frowned before adding, “I dislike the subterfuge. I should rather like to enjoy your company freely.”

  “I guess I could just quit.”

  “And go where?” he asked before adding suspiciously, “or are you asking me to establish a residence for you where we might be able to meet freely?”

  “Establish a…” Kate was now frowning as well. “I don’t want to be your mistress, Brand, if that’s what you’re saying. I cannot imagine being a kept woman.”

  Brand looked down at her in surprise. “It would not be an insult as great as that. I am the Earl of Harrowby.”

  “Check that ego, Brand. It’s not the ‘you’ in that scenario that I’m opposed to here.” Kate frowned as she considered her words. “I know it won’t make any sense to you, but I was raised to be an independent woman, to take care of myself. The arrangement you’re thinking of is not one that I think I could live with. I mean, even when I do eventually get married or decide to live with someone – somewhere far, far off down the road – I intend to keep working. Not just because I couldn’t appreciate being taken care of but because I want to have a challenge, something to show for my life, something to give me some sense of accomplishment. A career to be proud of.”

  Careers aside, the idea of Kate marrying another much less living openly with one sent a thrum of discord through Brand. He couldn’t help but ask, “You don’t believe you would find accomplishment and satisfaction… challenge in raising a family?”

  “I don’t know. I guess I just don’t think so,” she admitted. “In truth, it isn’t a subject I’ve given much consideration to. But let’s not get carried away. We’re talking about here and now, right?”

  “Correct,” Brand agreed though he was disgruntled by her dismissal of the subject. Why wouldn’t Kate desire what every other woman in England wanted? A home, a husband and a family to care for? What employment could provide more than that? As he seemed to do so often with Kate, Brand shook his head in bemusement. She was simply beyond his understanding. Not that he had imagined Kate would want to be set up as a mistress, though not for any reasons such as those. Kate simply wasn’t one to gain by half measure. She would expect more. He wanted to give her more, more than he was in a position to give. “What do you suggest then?”

  “I guess I suggest that, if we want to see each other, we just do it. Quietly,” she added. “What people don’t know won’t kill them, right?”

  “Are you certain, Kate?” Brand asked. “I hate to admit it, but the risk is all yours.”

  “I’m prepared to take a few lumps for you,” she said softly, stroking his cheek.

  Brand looked down at her so tenderly, his eyes dark with feeling. A knot formed in her throat that Kate painfully swallowed away only to feel the ache tighten in her chest. Was he beginning to care for her as much as she did for him? She’d risk more than a few lumps for him, Kate realized. She would brand her chest with a capital A in flaming red if it meant having him if even only for a while. She’d walk proudly by his side and bear any amount of scorn just to hold his hand as she had wanted to that afternoon.

  She was falling, Kate realized. Tumbling head over heels in love with Brand and it was all happening with mind-numbing speed. She’d never been a big believer in love at first sight. Though she hadn’t been privy to all the details of their courtship, she knew that her parents had dated for four years before they married. Kate always assumed that was because love took time. It needed years of nurturing to become deep and sustainable. Even Anne must have felt the same way. Though she’d met her husband when her nephew was just a baby, they’d dated for three years before her brother-in-law had popped the question.

  Love took t
ime. She’d always believed that. She’d also always thought that she would be able to choose when and with whom she would fall in love. Loving Brand was… ridiculous, she hesitantly labeled the truth of the matter. There was no future in it.

  A part of her said logically that the best move at this point would be simply to walk away. Quit, go back to David’s and find another way to establish a life for herself in this time. A life away from Brand, away from a life that was sure to lead to nothing beyond heartbreak. Leave now, she told herself, before you’re a goner and there’s no turning back.

  But staring up into Brand’s warm blue gaze, Kate knew she couldn’t walk away from him even knowing that there was going to be a definite period marking the end of this – whatever it was, call it an affair or whatever – at some point. Brand would find a suitable woman to marry, a woman to bear his heir sooner or later. Kate knew she would have to accept that though she hoped it would be later. In the meantime, she planned to enjoy their time together, enjoy these unexpected feelings.

  If it turned out to be true love… well, Kate hadn’t had much experience with disappointment but she would just have to deal with that when the time came. If that didn’t work out, there was always denial.

  “What are you thinking then, Kate?” Brand asked softly.

  “Lovers it is, Brand,” she whispered back, giving into the longing of her heart. “Secret lovers, living life to the fullest.”

  Brand glanced up at the seductive turn of her voice to find her again lounging back against the chaise gazing at him from under her lashes with sleepy green eyes. Her lips were damp and parted. Inviting.

  “Taking what we want from it.” His voice was husky; there was desire in his eyes and something more. Kate had never had a man look at her that way before, as if he were lost in the desert and she was his oasis. As if she were what he needed, what he had to have, what only she could give him. It was more than want and yet Brand made no further move. She wasn’t certain what he was waiting for but Kate knew that the next moment would have to be his. She’d played the aggressor long enough. He’d expressed his interest and it was his move.