ROMANCE: Time of the Werebears (Scottish Historical Time Travel Shifter Romance) (Paranormal Shapeshifter Romance)

by Sky Winters

  “I am not going,” he said simply. He rarely went to social settings, and his mother knew it. He had no plans to change that.

  “Yes you are,” his mother said sternly.

  “I have no desire to,” he argued. In truth, he loved to go to the theater. He always had. Since his heart was broken so fully, though, he had refused to attend. The young girl he had loved so dearly had enjoyed the theater greatly as it was the perfect venue to parade around and be admired by all in attendance. He was lost in thoughts of his younger self and the pain he had felt when he heart footsteps upon the stairs.

  The Duchess and Gareth both turned then to see Jillian descending the stairs. Patrice had selected a silver gown for her, so deep in tone that it looked as though she was wrapped in moonlight. With her fair skin and hair, she looked as if she was an angel walking among them. Gareth could not take his eyes off of her and his mother watched him with a look of satisfaction on her face.

  “I knew that color would suite you!” she gushed as she took in all the details of Jillian’s appearance. Luckily, the dress had been ordered by another lady who had never returned for it. Otherwise, such a fine dress would never have been available on such short notice. It had even been quite close to her own size, with the seamstress only needed to let the hem out a bit to make it perfect for the evening. It was complimented with a deep blue wrap and matching silk slippers. Never in Jillian’s life had she worn such finery and it made her quite uncomfortable.

  “Thank you so much for all of this,” she said gently, curtsying to the Duchess and to Gareth. She was very grateful that her manager had insisted that she learn the proper way for her time in Europe in case she was to meet any royalty in her travels.

  “It is nothing my girl,” Patrice said, waving her hand dismissively.

  “Oh Jillian, you look beautiful. Mother is letting me go tonight. Oh I am so excited,” Gabby cried as she rushed down the stairs behind Jillian. Her pink dress looked lovely and quite appropriate for her age and the joy on her face made her shine.

  “Well, we have the whole box and this is a special night. Go and fetch your wrap,” Patrice said with an indulgent smile.

  “Yes mother,” Gabby said with a knowing smile as she ran off to her room to gather her lace wrap. To everyone’s surprise, Gareth followed her up the stairs.

  “Gareth, where are you going?” his mother asked, looking slyly at her son.

  “To dress for the theater of course,” he said without looking back down at the ladies.

  He returned nearly as quickly as Gabby did, cutting a dashing figure in all black. His eyes locked on Jillian from the moment that he returned to the entry way. The draw of his gaze was enough to take her breath away. The feeling only grew in intensity as he offered her his hand and helped her in to the carriage.

  When they arrived at the theater, they went directly to their box. They did not make the social rounds that were customary, primarily out of respect to Jillian and her odd circumstances. While the girl that he had loved when he was young would have balked at that, Jill was grateful. When they reached their box, she tucked herself in a corner seat, giving her a perfect view of the stage, but shielding her from the eyes of the other theater goers. He took the seat beside her, just as eager as her to avoid the prying eyes that surrounded them.

  Once the music began, she was enraptured by the performance, but Gareth was enraptured by her. He watched her intently as she reacted to the music. When she felt his eyes upon her, she turned to face him. When their eyes met, Jillian felt as though her skin was a flame. There, in the darkness of the theater, surrounded by the music that they both loved so much, it felt to her as though they were the only people on the world. The feeling was both intoxicating and terrifying. Impulsively, she reached out and took his hand in hers. Even through her glove, she could feel the current of electricity. Whatever was to come, she knew that things between them would not be the same after that.

  Chapter 7

  When they returned to the house, everyone returned to their respective rooms because of the lateness of the evening, but Jillian had sent away the maid who came to help her out of her dress. She was too enraptured by the magic of the evening to allow it to end. Once she was sure that enough time had passed, she left her room quietly and went to the music room, hoping to have some time alone to play. Instead, she found Gareth already seated at the piano.

  “I hope I did not wake you,” he said, having discarded his jacket and loosened his tie.

  “No, I was too excited from the performance this evening to sleep,” she said, frozen just inside the doorway.

  “As was I. It had been ages since I have gone out to the theater,” he answered, looking more relaxed than she had ever seen him.

  “The music was beautiful,” she said.

  “It was not the only thing that was beautiful tonight,” he said as he rose from the piano and closed the distance between them.

  “What are you saying? You thought I was a swindler only days ago,” she said dismissively, taking a step away from him. He perused her though, unwilling to let the moment pass them by,

  “That was before I heard you play. No one with darkness in their heart could play so divinely,” he said as he reached up and placed his hand gently on her cheek.

  “Thank you,” she said, leaning in to his touch instinctually.

  “Will you play with me?” he asked, taking her hand in his. She had shed her gloves and the feeling of his skin against hers was enough to send her head spinning.

  “Are you not afraid we will wake your family?” she asked, feeling her will to stay away from him crumbling.

  “They never wake to my playing. The walls of this room are quite soundproof. Mother made sure of it when I was young,” he said as he pulled her gently towards the piano.

  “Alright, I will play with you,” she whispered.

  They both sat on the bench their sides pressed against each other. Rather than playing the piece he had been working on, he began to play from instinct, and she soon followed. The music that came forth was the most beautiful that Jillian had ever played or heard. Without speaking, they knew instinctively what the other would do. When they finally finished, they both turned to stare at each other in amazement, breathless.

  “That was amazing,” she whispered in awe.

  “Yes, it was,” he said as his hand wrapped around the back of her neck and pulled her to him. As his lips crashed down on hers, she could not imagine a more perfect moment. He kissed her with need and desire like she had never experienced before and she moaned in disappointment when he finally pulled his lips away from her.

  “So was that,” she said as she rested her forehead against his.

  “Yes, it was,” he said with a wicked smile.

  “What are we doing?” she asked, realizing what she was doing. He was a man who had been hurt deeply before and she was setting him up for the same kind of hurt again. No matter what she felt for him, she could not stay in this time and she could not bear to hurt him.

  “I have no idea,” he said, not sure what had changed.

  “I have to go,” she said, standing up abruptly.

  “Wait,” he said as he stood.

  “No, I have to go,” she cried as she rushed from the room, angry at herself for getting so lost in her emotions. She had spent years honing her discipline and it was more important now than ever before. She thought that once she reached her room, she would be safe but Gareth had other ideas. He threw open the door and followed her in, unwilling to let the first light he had felt in years slip through his fingers.

  “We need to talk,” he whispered sternly, trying to keep from waking the whole household.

  “About what?” she asked, trying to keep him from realizing just how effected she was by the moment they had just shared.

  “About what just happened down there,” he said, unashamed of his own feeling.

  “What do you mean?” she asked, beginning to pace back and forth.


  “Do not play dumb with me. You felt it too,” he accused, going to her and pulling her in to his arms. She all too willingly, needing to feel his strength surround her.

  “I felt it,” she admitted, leaning in to him as she spoke and wrapping her arms around his waist.

  “I have not felt such joy while playing in a very long time,” he admitted, resting his cheek on top of her head as he savored the feeling of holding her so close.

  “Since your heart was broken?” she asked without looking up. She did not want to see how her words would affect him.

  “My mother told you,” he muttered.

  “Yes,” she said, holding him tighter as though she could absorb the pain he had felt all those years ago.

  “Thank you for giving me back that joy,” he said as his kissed the top of her head gently.

  “You are welcome,” she whispered, inhaling his scent.

  “Good night. I will see you tomorrow,” he said as he took a step away, content with her confession that she had also felt the connection between them.

  “Good night,” she said as she watched him leave the room with tears in her eyes.

  Chapter 8

  After crying herself to sleep, Jillian knew what she had to do. She could not hurt him further and this was not her time. As soon as the run rose, she dressed in the torn gown that she had been wearing when the Duchess and Gabby found her. The only thing that she took with her was the necklace that she had arrived with. Quietly, she slipped down stairs and out the front door. She was not sure where she was going, but she knew that she could not stay any longer and risk hurting Gareth. She could not let him lose his joy in music fully because of her. She had to leave before he loved her. She did not get far, though, before she heard footsteps behind her.

  “What are you doing?” Gareth asked as he caught up to her.

  “Just taking a walk,” she said, not sure what else to say.

  “By yourself?” he asked skeptically.

  “Yes,” she said simply.

  “You are not running away then?” he asked, his voice full of anger.

  “No. As you are fond of pointing out, I have nowhere else to go,” she said, knowing that the lie was her only choice. She began to walk more quickly, but his legs were so much longer than hers that he kept pace easily.

  “Maybe that is because you belong here,” he suggested, stopping her in her tracks.

  “What?” she gasped, shocked that he had said it aloud.

  “Maybe you should not keep looking for who you were before you came to us. Maybe you should stay here, with me,” he said, taking her hands in his.

  “You do not know what you are saying,” she said, shaking her head as she tried to pull away from him.

  “Yes I do,” he said as he pulled her tightly against him.

  “You do not know me at all,” she whispered as tears began to fall.

  “You forget, I have watched you play. I have seen your soul,” he said, wiping the tears from her cheeks.

  “There is so much that you do not know,” she said, not sure how to begin to explain it to him.

  “Are you in danger?” he asked.

  “No, it is not that,” she sighed.

  “Then it does not matter,” he said with such devotion that she could not help but wish it was true.

  “It matters,” she said through her tears.

  “Not to me. My family adores you and I love you,” he said solemnly.

  “You do not love me. You only think that you do because your emotions while playing have gotten tangled in how you feel about me,” she said, looking away because she feared that if she looked in his eyes she would lose her will to protect him entirely and tell him just how much she loved him.

  “If I could never play another note, I would still feel exactly the same way about you,” he said, gripping her chin gently and forcing her to look at him as he spoke.

  “You cannot know that,” she whispered.

  “When I thought I was in love before, she used to watch me play but she never felt it like you do. I was just too blinded by youthful infatuation to see it. When I watched you play I feel like our souls become one and I think you feel the same thing when you watch me,” he said, leaning so close that his lips nearly touched hers as he spoke.

  “I will not deny it,” she said, smiling through her tears.

  “And when we played together, it was like nothing I had ever felt before,” he continued, needed to make her see what she meant to him.

  “Me either,” she whispered as she leaned against his warmth.

  “Then stay with me,” he demanded, gripping her even tighter, not caring who might see them.

  “I cannot,” she said, though she made no effort to pull away from him.

  “Why?” he asked gently.

  “You would not believe me if I told you,” she said, a humorless laugh escaping her lips.

  “Do you love me?” he asked, his hand gently pressed to her cheek.

  “Yes, more than I ever thought I could,” she admitted.

  “Then do not leave me,” he begged.

  “It might not be up to me,” she finally admitted, unable to find the words to explain it clearly.

  “No one will take you away from me,” he said, his arms locked around her like iron.

  “It is not that simple,” she cried.

  “Do one thing for me then,” he asked, reaching in to the pocket of his jacket as he spoke.

  “Anything,” she agreed.

  “Play this with me,” he said, handing her a folded sheet of paper. She unfolded it to reveal the very song that she had played the moment before she had been sent back in time to him.

  “What is this?” she asked, shaking.

  “It's a piece of music that I wrote for my true love. I thought that it was her when I wrote it. I know now, though, that I wrote it for the idea of who I thought she was, my perfect love. Now, I know that is you. I think I have known it since you told me there was no joy in my music,” he said, smiling warmly as he gazed upon her face.

  “You wrote this for your love?” she asked gently.

  “Yes, why? What is the matter?” he said, not sure why she was trembling in his arms.

  “I cannot believe I am going to tell you this,” she said, realizing that she owed him the truth.

  “You can tell me anything,” he said with an encouraging smile.

  “I am not from here. I am not from is time. In my time, I played this song on your piano and he next thing I knew I woke up here,” she admitted. She could not look at him as she spoke. She was so sure that it would cause him to pull away from her and she could not watch it happen.

  “That is impossible,” he said bluntly.

  “I know, but it is true,” she vowed.

  “Do you believe in the power of love?” he asked her, again forcing her to look at him as he spoke.

  “Yes, in the power of love and music,” she said, speaking the truest words she had ever spoken.

  “Then let us have a lifetime filled with both,” he said as he lowered his head to kiss her and sealing the bond between them.

  THE END

  MAIL ORDER BRIDE BONUSES

  A BRIDE IN LOVE

  Isabelle stood up straight, and stretched her aching arms. She had been working hard all day cleaning the house and needed a rest, but there was still so much more work to do. Her hands were red from scrubbing the old rug in front of the fireplace. It was tatty and old like the rest of the house, and her efforts hadn't made much difference. If she cleaned it anymore it would soon be threadbare.

  Since her mother’s death she had taken over the responsibility for running the house. As the elder of six sisters and her father to look after it was a never ending task. Fate had not been kind over the last few years; first her mother’s early death in childbirth five years ago which had been a blow to them all, especially her father. Even Nature played her part, and three years of wet summers and failed harvests had brought hards
hip upon the once thriving family.

  Stepping to the window she looked out across the fields. It was a beautiful winter’s afternoon and the late sun streamed down onto the patchwork fields of green and brown. The day was so clear that if she looked hard enough she could just about make out the town of Rawlins, way off in the distance. She could see her father in the farthest field, his dark figure hunched low as he toiled away. He had never got over the loss of his wife and he had become a silent shadow in their lives, appearing only at meal times- the rest of the time either working or sleeping; his six daughters a constant reminder of his loss.

  She could bare the hard work and the hardship for herself, but she worried for her younger siblings. What did the future hold in store for the rapidly growing daughters of a poor; almost bankrupt farmer? It would be hard to find good marriages for them all and life would be a constant struggle.