One Scottish Lass - A Regency Time Travel Romance Novella

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One Scottish Lass - A Regency Time Travel Romance Novella Page 5

by A.J. Dixon

Chapter 5

  Sorcha blinked against the sense of loss which enveloped her. Jonathan had vanished into the chattering brilliance of the next room. Sorcha had no doubt that Julia was attentively glued to his side, working every devious wile in her possession in order to claim him as her husband.

  The thought filled her with rich despair.

  Sorcha shook her head. She had only met the man a few minutes ago. What had caught at her soul? Perhaps it was the fact that he was one of the few men her own age she’d been able to talk to in a long, long while. Perhaps it was those rich amber eyes which seemed to see right through her. Perhaps it was the fondness he clearly held for his younger sister. Or perhaps it was the tender way he’d cared for the tiny kittens – kittens that Julia had orphaned.

  Florentia giggled, and Sorcha blushed, looking down at the teen. Florentia nudged her in the ribs. “All the women look at him like that,” she teased. “He’s got to be the most handsome man in Bath. And now that he’s turning twenty-five, it seems everyone and her mother thinks it’s time he gets married.” She pressed her hands together in delight. “And then I’d have young nieces and nephews to play with!”

  Sorcha looked down at her hands. “I’m sure your brother has the pick of all eligible women, when he’s ready.”

  Florentia grinned. “Oh, he’s got them, all right, but he’s too picky.” She looked over at Theodoria and her face scrunched. “I don’t know how she ever ended up with that old fart. But I guess Johnny’s right. He wouldn’t have much fun with Thea. Still, I suppose it always seemed like the perfect match, especially after he saved her life.”

  Sorcha turned to Florentia. “Johnny saved Theodoria’s life?”

  She eagerly nodded. “Both of our lives,” she expanded. “I was six years old, and Thea was maybe twelve. We were riding double on this old mare that I adored, Speckles. I named her myself. And she was normally the sweetest horse you’d ever seen.”

  She bit at her lip, thinking back. “We had stopped by a stream to get a drink and to pick some apples in this orchard we’d found. We stuffed quite a lot of the apples into an old brown sack. Then we climbed back on Speckles to head home with our prize.”

  She shook her head. “I still don’t understand it – Speckles suddenly went wild! It was as if a snake bit her or something. Both of us were flung off. With the horse leaping around like that, we could easily have been trampled to death.”

  She shuddered. “But, thank God, Johnny just happened to be riding out that afternoon and raced to help. He grabbed Speckles’s reins and dragged her to the side. He managed to get her quieted down.”

  Sorcha looked between Florentia and Theodoria. “That must have been scary! So you both were all right?”

  Florentia spun around in place. “As right as rain! It was a true miracle. When the initial shock was over, both families said it proved that Thea and Johnny were meant for each other.”

  She looked over toward the piano room, and her eyes shadowed. “So you can imagine how rough it was on everyone involved when he said he couldn’t go through with it.”

  Sorcha could imagine exactly what that must have been like. The idea of disobeying her own mother over an issue of that magnitude staggered her mind. It simply would not be possible.

  She looked to Florentia. “Did they ever figure out what went wrong with your horse?”

  Florentia’s eyes dimmed. “No. She seemed perfectly fine when we got her back to the stables. Even so, Thea’s family insisted that Speckles be put down. They said the horse had proven it was a danger to people and no other lives should be risked.”

  A warm voice came from over Sorcha’s shoulder. “You did almost die, Florie.”

  Florentia turned and wrapped her brother in a warm hug. “I can’t die. Not when my knight in shining armor is there to protect me.” She smiled up at him. “You keep me safe.”

  He ran a hand down her hair, stopping to tuck a loose curl back into her bun. “I always will,” he murmured fondly.

  His eyes came up to Sorcha’s.

  Suddenly Sorcha craved that sensation with all her heart. She craved that knowledge that he would be there to care for her. That he would do whatever it took to keep her safe.

  That he could help her, at long last, feel whole.

  She took a step forward …

  There was a clinking of silverware on crystal, and the audience turned toward the front of the room. Lord and Lady Davenport were standing before the mantle of the fireplace. Sorcha realized now that above it hung a pair of framed portraits showing Jonathan and Florentia. Joy shone in the siblings’ painted eyes.

  Sorcha wondered what it must be like to have a childhood like that. One filled with love. One gently guided by parents who cared tenderly for you.

  She chastised herself. Her father did care for her. She knew he must have good reasons for spending so much time in distant ports.

  Her shoulders slumped. Still, those long years between his brief visits were filled with misery and intense loneliness.

  Lord Davenport beamed as his two children came up to join him. “Treasured guests and dearest family, welcome to this day of days. For today my beloved son, Jonathan, turns twenty-five and takes on many of the responsibilities of our family.”

  He turned to his son. “I cannot express just how proud I am of you and of all you have done throughout your life. I know that today marks just one more step in your path to acclaim and respect.”

  Shouts of approval echoed from around the room, and glasses were raised on all sides.

  Sorcha saw that Julia had sidled herself to be immediately next to the family. To a casual onlooker, she might almost seem a part of that family unit, joining them in hosting this grand party. Sorcha had no doubt that that was the impression that Julia hoped to create.

  Julia’s gaze moved serenely across the gathered guests, then moved to carefully evaluate the china and porcelain. Her eyes gleamed with bright avarice.

  Sorcha turned her head to seek out the rest of Julia’s family. Julia’s sister, Theodoria, remained with her husband and mother at the far side of the room. They seemed blissfully unconcerned about Julia’s activities.

  There was a movement at the left side of the room, and Sorcha turned her attention there. A dark-haired man about Johnny’s age sauntered into the room and leaned in a casual slouch against the elegantly papered wall. His hair fell across his eyes, half-shielding them from view. There was something sharp, almost arrogant about the way his arms were crossed before his chest.

  Sorcha pursed her lips, studying him. There was almost something familiar about his face …

  There was a shadow against her back.

  Sorcha could sense her mother’s presence behind her like a brisk, biting breeze on a wintry morn. Madeline came alongside her daughter and followed the direction of her gaze. Her voice held a caustic laugh.

  “Ah, my dear, are you eyeing Jonathan’s competition now? He’s certainly a decent second option if it comes to that. That man you see over there is Felton. He’s Jonathan’s cousin; their fathers were twins.”

  She waved an expressive hand. “If something were to … happen … to Jonathan, Felton is the one who would benefit. The lands and title would all fall to Felton.”

  Sorcha shivered. It seemed so cold to talk about Jonathan’s demise like that, at his own birthday party.

  She could see it now, the family resemblance between the two men. But where their faces had similar structures, their eyes were wholly different. There was something cold and heartless about the way Felton scanned the room. It was almost as if he were sizing each object up for the auction house.

  As Sorcha watched, Felton’s gaze moved, catalogued, and sorted. Then Felton’s eyes met Julia’s. Just for a second, something powerful passed between them. Sorcha shivered without knowing why.

  Then the moment had passed. Once again it was a happy celebration full of laughter and cheers. Lord Davenport looked out at his guests.

  “In celebra
tion of this important evening, I would like to give my son a token of my love. As you all know, our family has lived in this location since the days of Lord Henry Davenport. Lord Henry Davenport was a renowned crusader who visited Jerusalem, Cairo, and many other exotic locations. He brought back a wealth of treasures which now adorn our home.”

  He reached into his pocket and brought out a small box. “I know Jonathan has loved this particular item since he was a small lad. It’s about time it was officially his.”

  Jonathan’s eyes glowed, and he took the box with reverence. Opening it up, he withdrew a gold ring with a seal on it. He held it up for the crowd.

  Applause followed, and Lord Davenport spoke over it. “It’s an authentic Roman intaglio ring, bearing the shape of an eagle. That is how I see my son – a brave eagle, defending his loved ones and keeping them safe.”

  Jonathan slipped the ring onto his finger, and then drew his father into a warm hug. Sorcha could see the son murmur something into his father’s ear, and his father patted him warmly on the back.

  At last the two separated from each other. Lord Davenport stepped back, then took a glass of Champagne from the mantle, raising it high. “To Jonathan!”

  Sorcha added her voice to the return cheers.

  Jonathan’s gaze swept the room, smiling warmly at the guests. And then his eyes met Sorcha’s.

  Sorcha’s soul shimmered. The room fell away. The cheers drifted into silence. And there was only Sorcha, Johnny, and a sense of complete peace.

 

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