It was obvious she was enjoying herself immensely. He tried to remember if she had ever reacted to his lovemaking with as much enthusiasm. He thought not.
She screamed out once more with her intense climax as her gaze caught his. Her expression of pleasure evaporated and was replaced by a look of pain as she watched her lover and protector walk from the room and out of her life forever.
‡
Grayson’s mind came back to the present. Things had a way of turning out exactly as fate planned, he supposed. If his mistress had not betrayed him with that pathetic popinjay, he would not have left London when he did and his houseguest would surely have met a far worse fate than the one she had now. He walked slowly back to his room, his arms laden with food. The broth sloshed over the rim of the bowl onto the bread that he had prepared. His staff was not due back until the storm passed.
He was all alone with his winter princess and found he did not mind his current predicament, not one bit.
SECOND THOUGHTS
RAVENHURST
DEVLIN made it to Ravenhurst, but was not sure why he went there. He should have been on a ship to a faraway place by now, but an unforeseen force pulled him back. He did not want to think about what or who was really behind his motives, not when he was about to make the final move to seal his fate. He paused and looked heavenward, contemplating what his next move would be.
A loud bang sounded behind him. He turned. A woman flew right past him, her long flowing cloak trailing out like wings behind her. The hood slipped, revealing a mass of dark hair that whipped around her head in the wind as she ran further out into the darkness of the night.
Devlin stared after her. Were his eyes playing tricks on him? Surely not, he realized this must be a sign. The one from above, the one he was waiting for. He turned away from Ravenhurst, leaving its occupants and his good intentions behind. He followed the mystery woman into the darkness. He now had a new purpose.
CAPTIVITY BE DAMNED
RADCLIFF MANOR
ISABELLE was finished being a captive. She wondered what in the hell the world was coming to? First, she was stuck in her own cellar, thanks to her poor choice of a husband. She barely escaped, only to find herself now somewhere else entirely. At least she was warm and felt clean. That was something, she supposed. Which brought on another barrage of questions? How did she get clean? Why was she in a bed? And who took her and why? Surely, it was a man by the looks of the room she was in, a wealthy one at that.
She knew he could not be conspiring with Devlin, although Devlin was, in her mind, a sorry excuse for a human being. He would never willingly let another share his joy of keeping her captive without some word of derision from his trollop. No, her Devlin would be happy keeping her in the pits of hell as long as it served his loathsome purpose.
Isabelle knew she should be thankful for the respite, but this was getting utterly ridiculous. The way her luck was running, there was no end in sight either. She heard the door scraping against the floor and quickly closed her eyes, feigning sleep once more.
PLANS GONE AWRY
RAVENHURST
“AHEM,” Milford cleared his throat loudly as he entered the library.
“Yes,” Sebastian sighed and tossed back the rest of his drink. “What do you want?”
“She is gone.”
“Who is gone?” Sebastian looked over his shoulder at Milford and then it hit him. “How long?”
Milford shrugged his shoulders, it was the most non-committal answer he could give without lying outright.
“What are you waiting for, man? We have no time to dally!” Sebastian strode past him to the foyer and grabbed his coat.
Milford trailed behind slower than necessary. He did not want to leave the warmth of the house to search in vain outdoors on a fool’s mission but he saw no other alternative. If Sebastian went to her room, which he would eventually, he would find the secret passage and unlike Katherine, he would break the door down and then all would have been for naught.
He could not see what was in that room, not yet at least. Accepting his fate, Milford donned his coat and followed Sebastian out into the cold dark night.
TIME LAPSE
RAVENHURST
I FELL back into my borrowed room from the secret passageway. Using my butt, I pushed the wardrobe up against the wall and wedged the poker (I just realized I forgot) under one of the claw feet.
“Woo Hoo!” I did a little happy dance across the floor, thankful I was still in once piece. Something moved in my hair. I flipped my head upside down and batted it.
A large spider landed at my feet.
“Gross.!”
I stomped my foot down and the furry body crunched under my borrowed boot. I hated bugs, especially spiders. In case more spiders were lingering in my gown, I quickly pulled it over my head. A piece of paper fell from the folds. Leaning down, I picked it up. It was the one I found down in the pit. Barely legible handwriting was scrawled across the page. I tried to make it out.
“Find the key so she may return to me… I beg of you… please! “
CAPTIVITY MAY NOT BE SO BAD
RADCLIFF MANOR
ISABELLE quickly shut her eyes as her captor entered the room. She smelled food and her stomach groaned with hunger pangs. She was starving. The last time she ate was when Judith dumped her food on the floor. Bitch.
Peeking out from under her lashes, she watched a large man walk carefully into the room. He was holding a tray, or at least, trying to. As he slowly made his way over to a small table in front of the fire the dishes clattered loudly and the contents spilled over onto his hand.
“Bloody Hell!” He quickly set the tray down and blew on his fingers.
Isabelle smiled. She could not help herself. Her mind had conjured an entirely different image of her captor.
He turned.
Feigning sleep, she quickly shut her eyes.
When she heard him stoking the fire, she reopened her eyes. His face was not the fresh face of a young man barely beginning his life, but one of a man. He had light brown hair with a smattering of gray at the temples. It was full and curled up at the ends as it brushed against his collar. His jaw was strong, chiseled, with full lips. There was a jagged, reddish mark down the side of his face, marring the perfection of his strong profile. Instantly, anger flared within her. It was such a horrible injustice to mar a face so close to perfection.
Normally, Isabelle found herself drawn to younger men, ones who had yet to bloom fully. They were more pliable that way. She wondered if he too would be pliable… or was he the one in charge?
Looking at him now, stoking the fire with his shirtsleeves rolled up, she focused on his strong forearms and the way his muscles bunched under the back of his shirt. She could clearly see he was more of a take-charge kind of man. She let her gaze travel lower, watching him lean back onto his haunches, the muscles in his thighs straining against the fabric of his breeches. She saw quite clearly the fabric straining in another area as well. Goodness.
She was getting warmer just looking at him. She decided quickly her predicament was not as bad as she originally thought. Her situation could be worse…he could be some toothless heathen from the wilds. She was smart enough to see her blessings when they were placed before her. And this, she admitted, was one of them.
Isabelle admired any man who commanded attention, no matter where he was, and this man kneeling in front of the fire certainly did. Why she ever settled for Devlin was something she would need to write off as a very poor judgment call on her part. She closed her eyes tightly again as he rose to his feet. She could hear his heavy steps closing the distance between them. She dared not open her eyes, but could feel him standing right beside her.
Grayson lifted his hand and gently smoothed a wayward curl away from her face. He had thought she would have awakened by now. He glanced over at the tray he prepared for her and acknowledged it could wait. She really needed rest. He reached out and pulled the blankets up around
her more making sure she was warm enough and then he leaned forward and placed a feather-light kiss on her forehead. “Sweetest of dreams to you, my winter princess.”
Isabelle listened to his rich baritone voice; it was deep, strong, and very manly. She shivered inwardly, but not from the cold.
A few moments later when she heard the door close, she could not help smiling to herself. Perhaps she should thank Devlin for being the worst kind of wastrel, since the result seemed not to be such a bad thing after all.
TOO MUCH TIME ON YOUR HANDS
RAVENHURST
AFTER I bathed and washed my hair twice, and dressed in a simple gown, I sat down on one of the heavier shawls in front of the fire and combed the tangles from my hair as I stared at the parchment on the floor beside the amulet. I wondered what the note meant. Who wrote it? Was it the knight, or someone else?
Leaning forward, I tossed a few more small pieces of wood onto the fire. The necklace sparkled in the firelight. I picked it up and placed it in my lap. My fingertips grazed the stone and a jolt skittered along my arm.
Thick, swirling, white mist instantly clouded my mind, stealing my sight. Once my vision cleared, a scene appeared before me.
FLASH *NEW YORK CITY * PRESENT DAY
A large bedroom came into focus. The girl with awesome clothes was lying in the middle of a huge bed with a tufted headboard, asleep. I knew now it had to be Marguerite. I tried to see what she was wearing this time. My eyes zeroed in; of course, she was in a sweet pair of silk pajamas. They were black and white polka dotted. I loved silk pajamas. They certainly beat the hell out of the little girl, flouncy gowns I was stuck wearing to bed.
Marguerite looked pretty, too.
I wished I looked that good sleeping. Marguerite rolled over and her long hair fanned out across one of the fluffy pillows on the bed. How was that even possible? Even her hair looked good while she slept. It was just not fair.
Disgusted, I turned my attention to the rest of the room. A flat screen television was at the bottom of the bed. A movie was playing on the screen. A thrill of excitement rushed through me. How I missed television, I adored a good movie. Up until recently, it had been about my only pastime. I focused my mind… hearing a shrill cry…
FLASH *LONDON, EAST END 1888
“White Chapel, another ‘orrible murder!”
The picture became clearer.
A newsboy stood on the edge of a wet cobbled street, holding papers in his hand. Covered hansom cabs clamored by. The horses pulling them, barely missed the boy and splashed him with dirty water from the street. Shaking his small fist in the air, he cussed, then wiped the water the dirty from his face.
Gaslight lanterns hung from metal carriage hooks on poles that lined the street, each cast out yellowish hues. Prostitutes gathered under them bedecked in their tawdriest finery while others leaned against the walls of the buildings. A cloaked figure emerged from a darkened alleyway. Women called out to him, promising pleasures of their bodies in exchange for coin. The cloaked figure ignored them, pulling the brim of his top hat down low and his cloak collar higher.
He stopped under a gaslight, his face hidden from view. He pulled something from the bag he carried, a doctor’s bag. It was a knife, the steel blade glinted under the streetlight.
JACK THE RIPPER!
VI
Unwittingly, I held the amulet tightly as I willed my mind to see even more. It was one of my all-time favorite movies. I concentrated on the scene, ready to settle down and amuse myself for a while.
Another jolt coursed through my body and sent tingling sensations through me. Another flash of white stole my sight…
A door slammed. I jumped and my mind instantly returned back to the present. The necklace thudded onto the carpet as I stood and ran over to the door. I peered out around the corner. The hallway was dark and gloomy. The same way it always looked. I pulled back inside the door a bit and listened for any other sounds, but it was quiet as a tomb. The door made another eerie creaking noise as I pushed it back. It reminded me of a haunted house.
Walking back over to the fire, I sat down on the shawl and lifted back up the necklace. Immediately, another jolt coursed through my body, stealing my sight once more. I reopened my eyes in another time.
FLASH * LONDON, EAST END 1888
Fog slowly rolled across a large body of water. A lone girl sat on the edge of an embankment. Boats creaked and bobbed as water pushed them back and forth against the dock of a waterfront. I caught a whiff of some foul odor. Was that from the river? Gross.
It must be the river Thames. I had heard it stunk, but this was terrible. Again, I heard the shrill cry of the small newsboy…
“White Chapel”…the rest was drowned out by foghorns blowing from some distant place on the water.
The girl came into focus again. Her face was buried in her knees and she was rocking back and forth… her arms wrapped around her legs. She lifted her head and appeared to be speaking to herself, her lips moved a mile a minute, but then she buried her face again into her legs.
Concentrating as hard as I could, I tried to make out the mumbled words, but a dull ache started to press out from behind my eyes.
“Please, please, please… take me out of this hell hole,” the girl cried.
The girl’s fear gripped me as I was pulled closer to the scene…
The caped figure appeared again. His boots made a scraping noise on the cobbled street as he walked towards the girl with a knife glinting in his hand.
Oh shit, was he going to kill her? I didn’t remember this scene from the movie at all.
Then the girl lifted her head and I saw her face.
Shock and terror coursed through my body. The girl in the vision wasn’t from a movie. It was Marguerite. She was still wearing her sweet, silk black and white polka dot pajamas, except now, she looked like death itself was stalking her.
I shut my eyes but the vision did not go away. It kept right on playing in my mind. “Run!” I yelled.
Marguerite looked up as if she heard me speak.
“RUN!” I yelled again. “He is going to kill you!”
Tears slid down Marguerite's face as she shook her head back and forth, but still did not move.
Now, I was getting pissed. What the hell? Was she an idiot? The least she could do was make a break for it. My mind raced and my breath hitched in my throat. Why wasn’t she moving?
“Don’t just sit there. Run!” I screamed once more. I couldn’t believe it. What in the hell was going on? I pressed my mind and tried to envision the apartment again. The bed… the television… oh no, not the television… he was almost to her now…
I tried to picture the bed again… the black tufted headboard, the silver and blue damask comforter, the mirrored end tables, the silver lamps adorned with crystal prisms that dangled from underneath black silk shades…
Finally, after I felt like my head was going to explode, another jolt coursed through me, stealing my sight once more. I held the necklace so tightly, my hands hurt. Slowly, the pain ebbed from my mind as the white, swirling curtain of fog lifted once again and my vision cleared.
Marguerite was once more in the apartment. She was in the middle of the bed and sobs tore from her throat.
I dropped the necklace. It thudded onto the floor and I scrambled away from it, stumbling to stand. My entire body shook, and I felt sick to my stomach. I grabbed the towel and lifted the necklace. I ran across the room, pulled open the drawer, and tossed the necklace inside. The entire dresser shook as I kicked it shut and backed away.
“Holy Shit! I almost killed Marguerite.”
SHADOWS OF YESTERDAY
A Ravenhurst Series Novel
BOOK TWO
SHADOWS OF YESTERDAY
LORRAINE BEAUMONT
TABLE OF CONTENTS
The Price of lies
Just Desserts
When you open the wrong door
Regrets
When all else fails
What is behind door number three
Desperate Measures
A light at the end of the tunnel
Are you happy to see me
Betrayal
A moment lost
Sweet Misery
A New Day
You shouldn’t play with fire
This tangled web we weave
What lurks in Shadows
Loss
The lies we tell
Paying Respect
Before the Storm
The weight of the world
Scattered here and there
Love is the greatest gift of all
Carried Away
Even the good must come to an end
Second Chance
Time flies when you are having fun
Preparation
Happily Never After
THER PRICE OF LIES
SOMEWHERE NEAR RAVENHURST
MILFORD was freezing and he had no one but himself to blame for his discomfort. Had he the wherewithal to leave things as they were he would not have found himself in his current predicament. He shivered again and his teeth chattered so hard he thought they were going to pop out of his mouth at any moment.
A Knight Such as This: Enhanced with Interactive Content: (Time Travel Romance) Book 1 & 2 (Ravenhurst Series) Page 18