by Dawn Brower
He didn’t know him or his firm, to demand anything from them, let alone an apology. “For what?” He was curious what it was all concerning though.
The man didn’t say much. He crossed the room and stopped in front of Bradford. He placed his satchel on his desk and clicked the latches open. “We were dispatched with delivering a letter to you a very long time ago. There has been a lot of upheaval at our London offices, and it was overlooked until now.”
A letter? This was about some bloody correspondence. That didn’t seem so dire as to make the man apologize. “Well, give it over.”
“Again, I apologize. This should have been delivered to you over a year ago.”
Bradford tilted his head, startled by his statement. “A year ago, you say?” That was around the time Regina and Trenton married on his estate, and when Alys disappeared. It couldn’t be related to that event. Could it?
“Yes, Your Grace.”
The man pulled out a parchment that was a weathered yellow and sealed with a red candle wax and handed it to Bradford. The Weston crest was imbedded inside the wax. Was this from one of his ancestors? Why would they have given this man’s firm a letter to hold on to for so long? “What is this pertaining to?”
“I’m not at liberty to say.” He held his head high. “I’ve not been privy to the details of the document. I’ve been dispatched with its delivery.”
Somehow Bradford didn’t believe the man was being entirely truthful. He knew more than he was letting on. It didn’t matter as he’d soon know all there was about it once he read the contents. He picked up a letter opener from his desk and slid it under the wax to loosen it. He unfolded the letter and read it.
It wasn’t long, but was too the point. It was from James Kendall, the fifth Duke of Weston. It included instructions on how to locate a letter that had been hidden behind the portrait of his wife and daughter. What the letter contained, Bradford didn’t know. What distressed him was the correspondence was addressed directly to him: Bradford Kendall, the ninth Duke of Weston. He shouldn’t have known his name, as Bradford was born almost two centuries in the future.
He turned toward the man and asked harshly, “Is this a prank of some sort?”
“Certainly not, Your Grace,” the man replied. “I assure you our firm is highly respectable and we would not do anything unsavory.”
Bradford didn’t know what to make of it. There was only one way to find out if what the man said was the truth or not. Without sparing the man a second glance, Bradford stood up abruptly and headed toward the portrait gallery. Why had he never looked behind any of the paintings? Hell, why would he? Who hid letters behind family portraits? Apparently his ancestors did; no wonder he was screwed up, considering who he was descended from.
“Bradford,” Regina called out to him as he rushed down the hall. “Damn it, wait up. I can’t walk as fast as you.”
He ignored her and went into the portrait gallery, heading toward the portrait the letter directed him to. Bradford stopped in front of it and stared at it for several moments. The fifth Duchess of Weston was lovely, and a complete replica of Alys, Regina’s sister. The duke and duchess’s daughter was a mini version of the lady. She had golden blonde hair and sparkling green eyes.
“Why are you in here?” Regina finally caught up to him. “What are you...?” She gasped. “Oh. My. God. That looks just like Alys.”
“I realize that.” Bradford replied. “I mentioned the portrait to your sister once.” The day Regina married Trenton—the day she disappeared. It still bothered him to think about that day and what it represented.
“I forgot about that. You distracted me that day if I recall correctly.” She nibbled on her bottom lip and studied it. “Did she ever see it?”
“No, I didn’t get a chance to show it to her.” He had his suspicions that she’d had a part in its creation though. Why else would the fifth duke known his name? The only explanation he could think of was Alys. She had a part in all of this, but what it was he hadn’t quite figured out yet. None of it made a lick of sense. He couldn’t wrap his mind around the uncanny resemblance between the duchess and Alys. Maybe he was losing his mind. Regina certainly did her share of driving him crazy.
“Who is she?” Regina moved closer to the picture. “The little girl in the picture must be her daughter? She’s adorable.”
“It’s strange, but I don’t know the duchess’s name. It was never mentioned in any of the Weston family archives. The children, though, are talked about often.”
“So she’s a member of your family?” Regina asked as she studied the portrait. “I wonder why she looks so similar to my sister. Alys was adopted, did you know that? Maybe she is an ancestor of hers.”
Bradford hadn’t known Alys was adopted. Could she be a relative of his? It would make more sense than where his thoughts had been going. For a moment he thought the duchess was Alys, but that was ridiculous. It would mean she time traveled, and as far as he knew that wasn’t possible. Maybe he’d have to do a little research on Alys and how she’d come to be adopted.
“The woman is the fifth Duchess of Weston, and Lady Elizabeth was her daughter.”
“Elizabeth?” Regina scrunched her nose up and frowned. “I saw that name somewhere.” She snapped her fingers and replied. “I remember. It was in the Bible you took from me. The first name listed was: Elizabeth Regina Evelyn Kendall. I remember finding it interesting she had both my name and my mother’s.”
Bradford jerked his head toward her. “What did you say?”
“Hmm...oh, you mean about Elizabeth. Her middle names are Regina and Evelyn, you know mine and...”
“I heard you,” he interrupted her. “I hadn’t made the connection before...”
Damn it, now he was back to thinking the portrait was of Alys and her daughter, but how could that be?” There was one way to find out. He had to get the letter from behind the portrait and find out what it was all about. Maybe it was good that Regina was with him. If it had something to do with her sister, she’d finally know what happened to her.
“Why are you in here staring at this portrait?” Regina asked. “You were in such a hurry to get here you wouldn’t stop to wait for me.”
How to answer that? The truth seemed like the best option, but he feared she’d think him insane. Maybe part of it would suffice for now. “I got a weird letter from a solicitor to check behind the painting.”
“That is odd.” She studied it, and frowned. “What are you waiting for? Look to see if there is something of interest for us to find.”
He nodded. “Yes, you’re right.” He pulled back the frame and peeked behind it. Stuck inside the edge of the frame was a parchment similar to the one he’d received earlier, sealed with red wax. No doubt he’d find the Weston seal on it as well. He lifted it and pulled it from behind the painting.
“Open it already!” Regina bounced on her feet. “Give it to me, I will.”
He yanked it out of her reach. “Patience is not one of your virtues, is it?”
“Not really.” She bit her lip. “But can you please open it. I’m dying of curiosity.”
He shook his head at her and grinned. Was it any wonder why he’d fallen in love with her? He froze as it hit him, damn if he hadn’t realized it before. When had he fallen for Regina? An exact moment in time didn’t stand out for him. It was almost as he’d always loved her. An overwhelming need to tell her filled him. It was squashed down by the equally unnerving fear that settled inside his gut. What if she rejected him? He’d never laid his heart out to another and left himself vulnerable to hurt before. It might prove to be his undoing if she tossed him aside. Could he risk it?
Instead, he decided to put off his confessions and concentrate on the moment at hand. The mysterious letter and what it could mean for them both. He slid his finger under the wax seal and broke the letter open. He slowly unfolded it and perused the contents. The letter was yellowed and some of the writing was hard to decipher, but most of it w
as surprisingly legible. If handled improperly the paper would probably tear easily. How had they not noticed this letter hidden behind the portrait before? It was amazing it had survived intact.
Bradford,
If you’re reading this, then you know I’m gone. Something crazy wonderful happened to me that I’m still baffled over years later. Yes, you read that correctly—years. It’s been a while since I fell off the cliff near your estate and found myself living in the year 1815, a few months after the battle of Waterloo. You might remember that your ancestor, James Kendall, fought in that battle. He was lucky to survive, but I digress. There is another purpose for this missive.
James and I married, and have started a family. My daughter, Elizabeth, is a couple years old, and I recently discovered I’m pregnant again. It’s crazy to think that my children are your ancestors. Truly, it boggles the mind. Please tell my family I’m all right, and I love them. Make sure they understand how happy I am. This is where I believe I’ve always belonged.
With much love,
Alys Dewitt Kendall,
The fifth Duchess of Weston
Bradford stared at the letter and still couldn’t wrap his mind around what he’d just finished reading. The duchess in the portrait was indeed Alys Dewitt, and she’d married one of his ancestors. She was his family; he carried her blood in his veins... Boggled the mind? Bradford snorted, talk about an understatement. A part of him still didn’t want to believe it even with the evidence staring him in the face. It could still be one big joke, but deep down he didn’t really believe that. Alys hadn’t been the type to play games. She had been whimsical and romantic, but never one to hurt those who’d cared about her. This was her way of letting her family know she was all right and to be happy for her.
“What is it?” Regina asked. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
In a way he had. The portrait was a ghost of the woman he’d known briefly. How would Regina react to the news? She’d never get her sister back, and even if he could, he wouldn’t find a way to bring her back to the twentieth century. Alys was where she belonged. She’d said she was happy. Why would he willingly take that away from her?
Alys’s words on Regina’s wedding day still haunted him. “Someday you will meet someone who takes your breath away. Your very existence moot without them by your side—every breath, every heartbeat, will be only for them. If you’re lucky enough, they will feel the same.” Except she’d never be here to see it—what would she say if she realized he’d fallen for Regina in truth? He’d denied it vehemently that day, but having her was beyond the realm of possibilities then. Now though, she was his, all he had to do was tell her how he felt. Could he do it? Was he brave enough to offer her his heart?
Bradford sunk to his knees and stared up at her. His heart beat rapidly inside his chest. There was one way to find out if she’d have him. He had to do the one thing he swore he’d never do. Beg a woman to be his forever... “Regina, will you marry me?”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
“What the hell is in that letter?” Regina reached for it, but Bradford kept it firmly in his grasp.
“Answer me,” he demanded
How could she when she didn’t know what led up to his proposal? She looked over his shoulder and stared at the wall. Think, think, there had to be a way to stall him. Regina wanted to say yes. But she couldn’t, not without knowing why. If it was any answer other than he loved her, she’d have to decline. Bradford hadn’t once told her he’d loved her, and she hadn’t spoken her feelings aloud either. She hadn’t wanted to think too heavily about it. They’d had amazing sex, but that wasn’t enough to build a marriage on. Who was she kidding? She did love him, but she was too afraid of what it all meant. Marriage was serious, and she didn’t want to do it without being certain this time it had a chance of lasting. She needed more from him before she could make that kind of commitment.
“I can’t...” she stumbled over the word.
His smile fell. Complete dejection filled every inch of his face. Oh hell, what had she done? He stood up and stared at her blankly. “I see. Then we will forget this ever happened.” He handed her the letter. “Here’s the answers you were seeking. Please leave my estate today.”
“Bradford, wait,” she called to him, but he kept walking.
Her heart broke into a million pieces. She had to make him understand. If he’d listen, she’d explain why she answered as she did. She wasn’t against marriage, but she had to know his reasons. Tears flooded her eyes and fell down her cheeks. She couldn’t see two inches in front of her. The misery inside her was overwhelming, and all she could allow inside. Regina slid to the floor and let it all out, until she didn’t have any tears left.
Bradford had asked her to marry him, and she’d crushed her chance with him in one final blow. It didn’t matter anymore that she loved him, and wouldn’t love anyone as much as she did him. She should have said yes. What had she done? Maybe she could still fix it. They weren’t broken yet, at least she hoped so. It was so sudden for him to propose, and whatever was in that letter had prompted it.
She unfolded it and scanned the contents. Her heart skipped a beat as she read it. Alys wasn’t missing anymore. No wonder he demanded she leave. There was no reason for her to stay. They both knew where he sister was, and she was perfectly content to stay there. Regina glanced over at the portrait and smiled. The little girl was her niece. No wonder her middle name was Regina Evelyn, Alys had wanted to honor her family. The evidence was hard to believe, but it was her sister’s handwriting. She’d recognize the familiar scrawl anywhere. Alys wouldn’t have left willingly, and it wasn’t in her nature to lie.
“I’m glad you found the love of your life,” she whispered. “Now help me find mine.”
Something in this note spurred Bradford into action. Was it reading how Alys was happy? Hell, Alys was his family too. She was a direct link in his bloodline. Maybe that had been enough to make him want more in his life, but he still hadn’t mentioned love. Regina needed more from him if she was going to take that leap. What would her sister do?
Alys believed in love more than anyone she knew. She would probably tell Regina to take a chance, and to have faith it would all work out. It might be too late, but if she loved him, she’d have to open herself up to hurt. That’s what love meant, she had to trust Bradford with her heart. It was a gift, one that didn’t always protect like it should. The good news was little hurts could heal.
“Regina?”
That sounded like her mother, but that couldn’t be. What the hell was she doing at Weston Manor? She had to be hearing things, or maybe it was wishful thinking. She needed a shoulder to lean on, and Alys wasn’t available. “Mom?” Regina lifted her head off the gallery floor and called out to her.
Her mother strolled into the portrait gallery and smiled. “The butler thought you might be in this wing. I’m glad I found you.”
Evelyn Dewitt was dressed in the highest fashion, her blonde hair perfectly coiled into a chignon. Her mother believed in putting every effort into presenting herself right. As children, she and Alys had rebelled against it whenever they could. Now, Regina appreciated it in a way she couldn’t explain. Her mother was a comfort she never thought she’d crave.
“Were you crying?” Her mother asked, studying her carefully.
“I was,” Regina admitted. “I have news.”
She didn’t want to admit she’d broken her own heart by denying Bradford. When she had the chance, she’d correct that mistake. For now, she’d give her mother something else to focus on.
“What is it, dear?” Her mother reached out to her. “Let me help you off the floor.”
Regina slipped her hand into her mother’s and stood. “I know where Alys is.”
Her mother smiled. Evelyn Dewitt’s whole face lit up with happiness. “You do? That’s wonderful. Where is she?”
This was the hard part, telling her she’d never see her adopted daughter again. Not that it matte
red that Alys wasn’t her biological daughter. Evelyn Dewitt loved her as much as she’d loved Regina. She treated them both as cherished individuals who deserved all the love she had to give.
“She’s not here.”
“Of course not, silly. I can see that. When can I see her?”
Regina bit her lip. She hated hurting her mother, but it had to be done. It was best to get it over with as quickly as possible. She turned and pointed to the portrait behind her. Evelyn followed her direction and froze.
“Is that Alys? Who’s the little girl?” All the questions she’d asked when she first saw the portrait spilled out of her mother’s mouth. She’d not assumed the portrait was of Alys at first though, but it could’ve been a woman who resembled her.
“How do you know that’s Alys?” Regina asked.
“It’s obvious.” Her mother pointed at the portrait. “Do you see the little scar above her left eyebrow? She had stitches when she was three. She climbed up on a counter trying to get cookies, and well, it didn’t go well. The person who painted this was brilliant. The artist captured her perfectly.” Her mother’s voice hitched a little as she spoke.
Regina stared at the portrait as if seeing it for the first time. This time she saw what her mother meant. This was Alys as she remembered her. Perhaps a few years older, as she was with her daughter, but it was a reminder of the sister she’d missed over the past year. Through the haze of Bradford’s proposal, she hadn’t stopped to appreciate it. Alys had married and had children. Three if she remembered the Bible listing correctly, one daughter and twin boys.
“I admit I am confused about her attire,” her mother finally said. “Her dress is a nice replica of what a woman in the 1800s might wear.”
Her mother’s comment shouldn’t surprise her, but for some reason it did. She was a fashion icon herself, why wouldn’t she know about the fashion in another era? “What do you know about that time period?”
Her mother shook her head. “More than I’d like to sometimes, but even that time isn’t something I’m too familiar with. Too far into the future from my expertise—I did read a little about those years.”