The Wayfarer: A Time Travel Romance (The Wayfarer Series Book 1)

by Jennifer L. Hayes

  “Ahhh, the men have arrived.” The countess stood to greet them. “Good afternoon, gentlemen,” she said in a cheery tone like we were all dear friends. The earl looked a little grim himself and made no effort to match his wife’s enthusiasm.

  “Let’s have a seat.” The earl motioned for the stranger to sit. The man, never taking his eyes off me, sat in the armchair directly across from mine.

  Lord Henry did not budge from where he’d entered the room. He stood, unsure where to look, and my heart started to race. I swallowed the growing lump in my throat. What was this all about? Was this the man who’d seen us in the stable? Were they going to confront us about what we’d done?

  “This is Mr. Jacob,” the earl said as he cleared his throat and directed this introduction to me alone. “He rode here about an hour ago in search of his wife, who had gone missing several days ago.” He spoke slowly, as one might do with a small child.

  “I’m sorry for you, Mr. Jacob,” I said with genuine concern, but I was really unclear why they were telling me this. Did they think I knew this woman? I could feel Lord Henry’s eyes on me now but I didn’t meet them. Everyone looked to each other as if I’d done something unexpected.

  The earl shifted in his seat and I could tell he struggled with how to proceed.

  “Well, Miss Emma, the woman he searches for…” Sweat dripped from his brow and he pulled a handkerchief from his pocket to dab at it with the shaky hands of a drinker. This small gesture reminded me of my father.

  Outside I could hear the clatter of hooves as a single horse trotted up the lane.

  “Is Emma Jacob. Her maiden name is Clayton.”

  My neck almost snapped out of joint, I turned so quickly to look from the earl to this stranger.

  “What?” None of this made any sense. Was this a joke?

  “Mrs. Marc Jacob, this is your husband.” The earl pointed towards the stranger, or should I say imposter.

  “You’ve made a mistake. I’m not married. I don’t know this man!” Bile rose in my throat and I swallowed it down. I looked to Lord Henry, who wore a mask of distrust and confusion. Did he believe this?

  “I know this may come as a shock to you, as you have yet to regain your memory, but this man has the proper documents and appears to be who he says he is. There are a few more matters that might help us with this little mystery though.”

  He summoned Phoebus over. I hadn’t noticed Phoebus lurking in the corner this whole time. He had an uncanny way of blending in with the tapestries.

  Phoebus walked over to the earl with a satisfied grin on his face, like the kid in class responsible for bringing down the popular kid. In his gnarled little clutches he held my purse, the one I had lost in the accident. My mouth fell open as if the hinges holding it there had broken.

  “Apparently, this was found on your person during the accident. Harris was kind enough to retrieve it and keep it safe. Can you explain why you were in possession of a bag with the name Marc Jacob on it?”

  “Yes, I can.” This all seemed so ridiculous. “Marc Jacob is a designer who makes handbags and…”

  The earl looked furious. “Young lady, I do not tolerate lies.” His face had gone many shades of red and for a moment I feared he might have a heart attack. “You stole your husband’s bag and made off like a thief.” Phoebus gave me a knowing look that said, ‘I knew her to be a thief.’ “And now this ridiculous charade of yours must come to an end.”

  My mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water.

  “Mr. Jacob has a marriage certificate in his possession that shows him to be wed to an Emma Clayton.”

  The stranger pulled a paper from the inside of his jacket and handed it to me to look at.

  With shaky hands I took the document that was passed my way but didn’t look at it.

  “Is that not your own signature?” the earl continued with forced patience.

  When I glanced down, sure enough, in black ink, there was my familiar signature next to the space marked ‘spouse’.

  How is this even possible?

  Panic rose in my throat. Signed on the bottom line by a witness named William White, the document looked legitimate, but I knew it was a lie. Who was this William White? The name itself stirred something in the very back of my memory, but not enough to recall it completely. It was more of a vague awareness that the name rang a bell.

  I wasn’t sure how long I sat studying the document, but the earl broke the silence first.

  “Mr. Jacob tells us a story of an unsatisfied wife who thought she deserved a higher station and who left in the night with his few valuables.”

  “That’s ridiculous! I’ve never laid eyes on this man.” This was absurd.

  “He also describes a marking of a bird just below your navel. Is this correct?” the earl said in a tone of disgust.

  How could they know? Miss Barnsby? My eyes turned again to Lord Henry who reluctantly met them. Inside, I could tell he was seething like he’d been duped.

  “This is bullshit!” I was being framed and I could hardly contain my anger.

  “I’d watch your tongue, Emma.” The stranger finally spoke. His voice was gruff, like someone who chain-smoked. “You’ve made a fool of yourself and of me and imposed enough on the kindness of the earl and countess.”

  “Henry!” My own voice sounded hoarse to my own ears. He looked just about to leave the room and clearly leave me to this man. He leveled a cold stare on me. “You can’t believe any of this? They are lies.”

  “How do you know this man is not who he says he is? He seems to have knowledge that only a husband should have.” There was judgment in his tone, not just directed at me but at himself too. “There is nothing I can do. You are this man’s property. Perhaps we should all rejoice that we have been able to reunite you with your family.” His tone of indifference was cutting.

  “I can prove I’m not his. Let me see the purse.” I wasn’t sure my driver’s license would help me overall, but at least it might prove that I wasn’t this moron’s wife, which seemed more important than anything.

  The earl handed it over. With numb hands I searched inside but found nothing. “What happened to my things?”

  Lord Henry glanced at the earl, who looked to the countess as she shrugged her shoulders.

  “Madame, the bag came to us as you see it now. Perhaps you sold all the valuables,” the earl said with no small amount of condescension.

  “This purse is hardly big enough to hold any valuables, but I had a few things in here,” I snapped at the earl. How could I possibly describe what was in there? My ID, an iPhone and British pounds from 2015. I was dead in the water.

  “So you don’t deny taking the bag?” the earl thundered back.

  “Isn’t it convenient that your memory has suddenly appeared? You are a liar, Miss Jacob, and have tainted our family with enough scandal. You should gather up your few things and leave Dormer House immediately,” the countess said with satisfaction. Unlike the earl, she was enjoying every second of this exchange. I imagined that she would relive these moments on many occasions in the company of her peers, herself expertly painted as the victim and graciously accepting their kind words of condolence.

  The earl stood to show that the discussion was over.

  With tears pooled in my eyes, it felt like I was looking through tiny kaleidoscopes, tapestries and furniture bleeding into each other. How could I possibly explain? Only hours ago I’d felt safe and loved. How quickly everything had shifted. Even Lord Henry had turned his back on me. My heart sank when it occurred to me that he now regretted what had happened between us. It felt like I would burst with sadness and betrayal.

  The imposter stood and took my arm in a rough hold.

  “You heard the countess, Emma,” he said in a stern voice.

  “Do not touch me, sir.” I felt like a snake ready to strike. I stomped out of the room. Maybe I could run away to Miss Crabtree. She knew the truth and maybe she could help me.

 
; Chapter 25

  More Time

  I took the stairs two at a time. Tears pooled in my eyes, making it difficult to see. All I wanted was to get away. Everything around me was unraveling and I needed to pull myself together and make a plan. There was no time to deal with a broken heart. I would have to save that for another day.

  How could I have been so naive? Who had put this Marc Jacob up to it? What could he possibly have to gain? Harris knew something. If he was the one who had had my purse all along he must have done something with my things. While it would hardly prove my innocence, it would show that I wasn’t that man’s wife. If only I could see Henry alone. Maybe I could convince him of the truth. That would have its own implications, but at least I wouldn’t be turned over to someone like cattle. I was no one’s property.

  With the door shut tight behind me I scanned the room for anything that I would need to take. Sadly, nothing was mine. Even the clothes on my back were Isobel’s. My leggings and long top were laid out for me on my bed. Miss Barnsby must have set them out there when she found out I’d be leaving. Maybe she’d played a part in this whole charade. After all, how would they know about my tattoo? Maybe the walls did talk, as the countess had told me days ago.

  With shaky hands I tore at my dress and stripped it off. I felt practically naked now in my own clothes. Perhaps that was what they wanted, for me to feel naked and vulnerable. The sleeve of my top had been mended where it had torn. On the dresser lay the rough stone necklace that Miss Crabtree had given me and I put it around my neck. I doubted it could do much for me, but it was a comfort to have it just the same.

  My door knob rattled and Isobel snuck in. When she saw the state of me, she bounded over and gave me a hug. I collapsed in her embrace.

  “I am terribly sad to see you leave. It has been so nice to feel as though I have a sister.” She had tears in her eyes.

  “Isobel, none of this is true, you must believe…”

  “Shhh. I know.” She cut me off and hugged me tighter. “There was commotion last night after most of the guests had left. Mother wanted to find Henry and of course no one could. She suspected he was with you.”

  She looked at me now with a questioning look. I nodded with a guilty expression. There was no point in lying now. She smiled at me like she respected me even more.

  “Watching the two of you dance, it was obvious there was something there. Poor Lieutenant Walker never had a chance.” Isobel was easily distracted when she was telling a story. “Well, anyway, when I was on my way up to bed I did overhear Mother plotting. She said something about teaching you a lesson or some such thing.” She looked at me apologetically.

  “You have to tell Henry.”

  “Oh, Emma.” Now she burst into real tears. “I cannot meddle. If my mother knew she’d have me married off to the most hideous creature she could find and that would be the ruin of me. I’m sorry.”

  My heart sank at her words. She looked genuinely terrified. She acted as if her troubles would be so much worse than mine. I even felt sorry for her for a minute.

  “But Isobel, you can’t just let that man take me away. This isn’t right.”

  “I wish I were strong like you, Emma, but I’m not.” Her tears dried almost as quickly as they had started. “I only came to tell you how much you will be missed and to give you this.” Out of her cleavage she pulled out a sealed note. “I intercepted it this morning. I don’t think Mamma would have given it to you.” She looked proud of herself for gaining one small victory over her mother.

  “Thank you.” Not quite the help I had hoped for. I wasn’t sure how a note would help, but I took it.

  “Here, take this.” She swung her shawl over my shoulders. “You can’t be expected to go out looking like that.” She looked mortified that I was to leave with so little clothing. “I also had Miss Barnsby pack up that dress I gave you.”

  “Oh, thank you.” We both knew that I’d have little opportunity to wear it wherever I was going.

  “I will miss you. Life will be so dull hanging about with Jane while all the men go out on the hunt tomorrow.”

  Of course, the hunt. Lord Henry’s life was in danger.

  “Please do something for me, Isobel.” Now I was pleading.

  She nodded, intrigued by the note of mystery in my voice. She loved being part of some sort of drama.

  “You have to convince your brother not to go on the hunt tomorrow.” Even though he’d abandoned me in my time of need I couldn’t bear the thought of him dying.

  Her face fell. She must have been prepared for professions of love. “What, Edmund?” She looked confused.

  “No, no. Henry.” She was sweet but not always the sharpest tool in the shed.

  “Why should he not go? It is in his honor.” She looked at me with a puzzled expression. “He’s a terrific hunter, Emma.”

  “I just don’t have a good feeling about it. Promise me.” How on earth did I explain?

  “He would never heed such advice from a woman, and his sister, no less. I think I’d have better luck moving an ox.” She laughed.

  “Right.” Again with the ox analogies. “It would mean a great deal to me if you tried.”

  She shrugged her shoulders in a noncommittal sort of way.

  “Oh, and one last thing. Could you have a book delivered to a Miss Crabtree in Oxwich? I’ll scribble her address down for you.”

  “Oxwich? What business do you have there?” She sounded intrigued.

  “Isobel, I don’t have time to get into that. Can you see that it gets there?” I didn’t want to be so cryptic but I had little time.

  “Very well.” She was a little distracted with some commotion downstairs and I wasn’t sure if she was listening.

  I grabbed Emily’s journal and started to wrap it in the parchment paper from the book store. Parting with it before I’d even had the chance to crack it open was torture but I knew how important it was to Miss Crabtree.

  “I must go, Emma.” She gave me a quick hug and took the book from my hand.

  “Thank you.”

  She paused at the door before leaving. “I hope our paths cross again.”

  Then she left as quietly as she had entered. I knew I didn’t have a lot of time. Now that I was a supposed thief they would be worried about things I might try to pilfer. I took the Brontë book with me for company but nothing else in the room was mine. The wheels in my head were working on overdrive trying to devise a plan. At the first opportunity I would run away. If I could break away on horseback I would do it and somehow find my way to Oxwich.

  As I made my way down the stairs Lord Henry was making his way up. He avoided my eyes. The staircase was wide and just before we would come into view of anyone in the foyer I stopped him.

  “You have to believe this is madness,” I whispered but hated the desperate tone in my voice.

  “Madame, I know nothing of the sort. I am clearly the most inept judge of character.” His eyes were red and swollen. Had he been crying?

  Unlikely.

  “But Henry, that’s a lie. You know me. I wish I had more time to explain but I don’t. There are things I haven’t told you but they are not these. Find out what Harris has done with my things. It won’t explain anything but it will prove that I’m not this man’s wife.”

  While he would never know what to make of my California driver’s license, at least it might show him that there was another explanation.

  “You are talking nonsense, Mrs. Jacob.” He looked at me with cold eyes, all the love and tenderness from last night stripped away. It was shattering to see him look at me this way.

  “Henry, is that you?” the countess called out from downstairs.

  “Please, Henry, don’t go on the hunt tomorrow. If you ever cared for me at all…” I tried to hold his arm so he couldn’t walk away from me because he refused to meet my eyes.

  “Henry, come down this minute.” The earl cut in, sounding less than amused.

  “I cared for a wo
man who does not exist.” He jerked his arm away. “If you’ll excuse me, I have a hunt to prepare for.” And he continued up the stairs. Away from me. Away from his parents. This would be the last time I would see him and the thought almost made my knees buckle.

  Chapter 26

  The Letter

  There was a small chestnut mare saddled and waiting for me in the front yard. She looked more like a mule than a proper horse. My plot for escape was doomed.

  Just when I thought the day couldn’t get any worse, Lieutenant Walker stormed out of the house carrying a small bouquet of flowers that swayed violently in his hand, the delicate petals like confetti on the path. He had obviously just learned of my apparent circumstances and had most likely been the one causing the commotion that had distracted Isobel. Men like that did not like to appear foolish.

  I was too overwhelmed with my own dire circumstances to give his ego a second thought but it made matters worse to have an audience. His adoring looks from last night were now replaced with a scornful grimace.

  How quickly my life had changed. It was not his rejection that tore a hole in my chest though. What role had Lord Henry played in this little plot? The earl wore his disapproval for everyone to see. How could any man know a woman’s body if he’d not seen it first hand? That was the way they all thought. Lord Henry could hardly even look at me. Maybe I should have told him the truth about myself from the beginning. But how would that have gone? Now everything was lost. I was being dragged away against my will, Henry was going to die tomorrow and for all I knew so was I.

  Flanked by the earl and Phoebus, the imposter Marc Jacob sat on his own mount, which looked like a show horse by comparison to the mule I would be riding. Phoebus smirked when he saw me standing at the top of the steps. A righteous smile was plastered on his face.