by Monica Burns
“Nicholas isn’t…?” Victoria’s heart skipped a beat in fear at the concern in Anna’s voice.
“No, he’s not in any danger.” A smile curved Anna’s mouth. It was almost as if she approved of Victoria’s concern. “In fact, I believe he shall most likely live to a ripe old age.”
The woman’s words eased the overwhelming concern that had sailed through her. Victoria turned her head to look out the window. As she studied the scenery, she emitted a quiet sigh.
“I’ve been trying to tell Nicholas since I woke up in the cottage that I wasn’t his wife, but he doesn’t believe me. And when I told…” Victoria halted her explanation as she realized how crazy she would sound. Maybe she was or maybe Nicholas was right and it was all an illusion.
“You told him you were from the future, and he didn’t believe you.”
Fear slithered down Victoria’s spine as she stared at the woman in horror. Nicholas had lied to her. He’d told Anna what he’d promised not to share with anyone. Nausea swirled in the pit of her stomach. In a quick movement, Anna caught Victoria’s hands and squeezed them tightly to gain her attention again.
“Nicholas has told me nothing, Victoria. He told me nothing,” Anna said fervently. “It was a knowing when we shook hands. You must believe me.”
“All right,” she said quietly as she saw the pleading look on the other woman’s face. Anna breathed a sigh of relief.
“Nicholas means the world to Sebastian and me. His happiness is quite important to us, and he’s been very unhappy since he married Vickie.”
“I’m not surprised.” Victoria snorted with disgust as she remembered the letter she’d read. “The countess has to be the biggest bitch known to man.”
“Umm…yes,” Anna choked out as color filled her cheeks.
“Sorry.” Victoria winced. She’d never felt so gauche in her life. “Nicholas says my language has become…colorful.”
“Colorful, indeed.” Ann laughed. “However, I do agree with your lusty sentiment.”
“Not even my colorful language has been enough to convince him I’m not the countess.”
“Convincing Nicholas you’re not Vickie is the least of your problems. I have reason to believe you’re in grave danger.”
The words sent a chill down Victoria’s spine. The visions of being buried alive filled Victoria’s head. What she’d experienced had convinced her the countess was dead. Her stomach lurched as she met Anna’s gaze. With a gasp, the woman’s eyes widened.
“You know. You know Vickie’s dead.”
“No, I don’t know,” Victoria lied.
“Yes, you do. I can see it on your face,” Anna rebuked her sternly. “You think she was murdered, just like I do.”
“They buried her.” She didn’t realize she’d spoken until Anna gasped with horror.
“Dear Lord.”
“I don’t mean they buried her alive. I think she was already dead.” Victoria stumbled over her words, all too aware of how guilty she looked. “I wasn’t there. At least I don’t think I was.”
“It’s all right,” Anna said reassuringly. “Tell me what else you know.”
“I keep having this…vision of dirt hitting my clothes…my face.” Victoria shuddered, and the moment her eyes started to water she blinked away her tears. Anna patted her hand in a gesture of comfort.
“They’re visions, Victoria. Visions can’t hurt you, but they can help save you. What else do you remember?”
“The dress I was wearing when they found me. I think it was Vickie’s dress. It was covered in mud. When I touched it, I saw…” Victoria’s voice trailed off at the horrible memory.
“Was it a blue dress?”
“Yes.” A cold finger scraped down Victoria’s back. “How did you know that?”
“And there were two men with shovels?”
“Yes,” she whispered, suddenly fearful at how much Anna knew.
“Victoria, you must trust me. What I’m sharing with you is something only one other person knows, and Sebastian will never betray me.”
“You’ve not told Nicholas?”
“Nicholas is a true friend, but he’s never been able to fully comprehend the extent of my abilities.” Anna sighed with resignation. “If he did, it would make things much easier.”
“Easier?” At her question, a pained look engulfed Anna’s pretty features.
“My gift often shows me things I’d rather not see,” the other woman said quietly. “Vickie’s murderers will no doubt see you as a threat. It won’t matter whether they believe Vickie miraculously escaped her grave or that you’re an imposter. The moment they hear Vickie’s returned, your life will be in danger.”
Suddenly, things had gone from bad to worse in a matter of seconds. She had no idea how she’d gotten here or how to get home. She was having visions that terrified her and headaches that left her unconscious. Now Anna was pointing out the fact that there were people who would no doubt want her dead. Until now, she’d thought going to London might be her best chance to return to her own time.
“Well, that blows a trip to London out of the water,” she muttered with sarcasm in an effort to hide her fear.
“For now perhaps, but you will go to London. I’ve seen you there. Besides, Nicholas’ responsibilities in Parliament will require him to go eventually, and you must never be too far apart from him.” There was an urgency in Anna’s voice that made Victoria frown.
“Why?”
“The future is easily changed by the choices we make. But there are times when I know how important it is to follow my instincts. My instinct tells me to stress how important it is for you to remain as close to Nicholas as possible.”
The conviction in Anna’s voice drove home an emotion Victoria had been feeling almost since the moment she’d met Nicholas. He would protect her. The strength of that belief was the reason she wasn’t so frightened by the prospect of someone trying to kill her. She knew he’d do everything in his power to save her. It was an odd sensation to have about a man she barely knew, but then everything about her reaction to him was confusing. Still, the thought of going to London, even with Nicholas to protect her, had become a frightening prospect.
“Tell me what you’re thinking.” Anna’s request interrupted her thoughts. Victoria shrugged slightly as she stood up to go to the window overlooking the expansive green pastures of the estate.
“Going to London is too dangerous for me. Regardless of what Nicholas believes, others are going to wonder how I can be so different than Vickie. I think it’s going to be a really big problem for him.”
“You mean the possibility that others will see you as an imposter?”
“Yes,” Victoria said as she closed her eyes for a brief second and acknowledged the enormity of what she was saying. “If people suspect I’m not the countess, there are going to be questions. Questions that will put Nicholas in a great deal of jeopardy.”
“Just Nicholas?”
A small smile curved Anna’s mouth. Startled by the fact that she’d given no thought to her own safety, Victoria glanced at the other woman. Anna narrowed her eyes with an assessment that made Victoria’s cheeks burn. She shrugged, while struggling to understand why she’d only been concerned for Nicholas’ safety and not her own.
“Slip of the tongue. But I know I have to stay here at Brentwood Park until I find a way back home.”
“And what if Nicholas is correct? What if your memories of the future are simply your mind’s way of protecting you from whatever horror happened to you before Nicholas found you at the cottage?”
“But you said…you believed I was from the future.”
“I’m not infallible, Victoria. I’ve misinterpreted things before,” Anna said softly. “It’s possible what I sense as truth is the truth you believe.”
“So you think I should consider my visions of the future as nothing more than my brain protecting me.” Victoria said with a sense of frustration and confusion.
“
I’m simply saying that anything is possible,” Anna said with a small sound of regret. “I only wish I could help you more, but we’re leaving in the morning.”
“Leaving?” The thought of losing an ally she’d just made chilled Victoria.
“I fear we must, everyone only planned for two nights. Tonight will be three. But everyone wanted to stay until we knew how you were feeling. Nicholas has been through so much, and he needs our support.” With a fluid movement, Anna rose from her chair and joined Victoria at the window. Capturing Victoria’s hands in hers, she smiled. “Nicholas might not understand, but he will protect you. And when he persuades you to come to London, you’re to let me know the moment you arrive. Promise me that?”
“Persuade? The man isn’t above throwing me over his shoulder and putting me in the carriage himself.” Victoria snorted quietly.
“Protest all you like, but I already know you’ll come to London before the end of winter. Of that, I’m certain,” Anna said with an ironic grin. “Now promise me.”
“I promise,” Victoria said with a smile then impulsively gave the woman a hug. “And don’t take any bets on those visions of yours coming true. Like you said, it’s all about the choices we make.”
“This is one time I am praying my gift is simply a figment of my imagination,” Anna murmured with an odd expression on her lovely face before she smiled. “Now then, let me leave you to rest, and I’ll make certain that Mrs. Babcocke puts some hearty soup on the tray Molly brings you.”
With a final squeeze of Victoria’s hands, Anna moved elegantly across the floor and left the room. Alone with her thoughts, Victoria turned to look out the window. The dying sun painted an angry display of purple, red, and orange across the early evening sky. It seemed like a silent omen and reminded her of Anna’s ominous warning. Suddenly uneasy, Victoria turned away from the window. In a single heartbeat, trepidation held her rigid as she stared at the man standing in her room.
Chapter 14
The man stood in the shadows and watched Victoria in silence. A shrill siren went off in her head as she remembered Anna’s words of warning. She’d been so certain Brentwood Park was safe, but now she wondered if she’d been wrong. The man suddenly stepped into the thin stream of fading sunlight and smiled at her.
It was a friendly smile that compelled her to respond in kind. As he moved toward her, his gait was ungainly, but it was his open and trusting expression Victoria found so appealing. When he stopped a few feet away, he swayed back and forth like a school child.
“What’s my name?” he asked.
“I don’t know,” Victoria said with a shake of her head and a small laugh at his swaggering demand. “Why don’t you tell me?”
“I’m Edmund.” Beautiful gray eyes narrowing at her, the man frowned. “Mrs. Bee says you don’t remember things.”
“No, I don’t,” she said with a nod as she assumed he was referring to Mrs. Beechum. “I don’t remember anything about Brentwood Park.”
“Do you still remember my name?”
“Yes, you just told me your name is Edmund.” She smiled at him and his obvious effort to test her memory. “I’m Victoria.”
“Yep, that’s me. I’m Edmund,” he said proudly as he stuck his hands in his pocket and rocked on his heels for a moment then stopped. Head tipped to one side he frowned at her. “I thought your name was Vickie.”
“I never liked that name. I like Victoria better.” Her explanation made him nod his head.
“Victoria. It’s pretty. Nicholas don’t like you very much.” The unexpected observation made Victoria laugh, and he eyed her with puzzlement.
“No, he doesn’t like me very much at all, does he?” she said still laughing, and a grin lit up Edmund’s face.
“You make Nicholas angry.”
“Yes, that’s true too,” Victoria said. Edmund’s smile died as he stared at the floor.
“You don’t like me. You said mean things,” he mumbled, and she frowned. Another reason to despise the countess. The woman seemed to have made it her sole mission in life to hurt others. Victoria suppressed a sigh.
“I’m sorry if the coun…if I was mean to you before. Would you like us to be friends now?”
“Okay.” Happy with her response, he stepped forward to grab her hand and pumped it with great exuberance. “I’m Edmund.”
“Would you like to sit down, Edmund?” Gently extracting her hand from his, Victoria gestured toward the chaise lounge. With a bob of his head, he hurried to the backless sofa and flopped down onto the padded seat. Hands under his thighs, he narrowed his gaze at her.
“Do you have any cake?”
“No, I’m afraid I don’t.” She shook her head. “Would you like me to have some brought up for you?”
“Oh no,” he exclaimed in a hushed voice. “If you ask for cake, they’ll know where I am.”
“Who will know where you are?”
“Nurse and Mrs. Beechum.”
“Are you hiding from them?”
“Yes, I like to do that sometimes, but Nurse gets mad.”
Curious as to who Edmund was and why he was at Brentwood Park, Victoria wondered what she could ask to learn more about him. Suddenly, Edmund scampered to his feet, and walked to the oak secretaire. Lifting the desk lid, he pulled out a piece of paper and put it to his nose.
“This used to be my mother’s room,” he said as he sniffed the paper. “It smells nice in here.”
“Who was your mother, Edmund?” Puzzled, she watched him play at the desk.
“She was pretty and always smelled nice. She died you know.”
Startled by his blunt comment, she stared at him as he sat down at the fragile-looking desk. Grabbing a pen, he dipped it into the ink well and began to draw on the sheet.
“I’m sorry your mother is gone, Edmund. I’m sure you miss her.”
“No, I have Nicholas.” The man shrugged as he continued drawing.
“Nicholas?”
“Um hum…we’re brothers. We’ll always be together. Nicholas said so.”
Startled, she stared at him in silence. In an abrupt movement, Edmund raised his head. Springing to his feet, he looked frantically around the room. The instant his gaze settled on the bed, he leaped forward and slid his large frame under the furniture.
“They’re coming,” he mumbled from his hiding place.
Before she could ask who he meant, she heard hushed, frantic whispers outside her room. At the soft knock on her door Victoria called out for her visitor enter. Mrs. Beechum was the first person through the doorway, followed by a younger woman with an expression as severe as her hairstyle.
“I apologize for disturbing you, my lady,” Mrs. Beechum stammered, “But have you had any visitors recently.”
“Actually, I’ve had several visitors this afternoon. Is there someone in particular you’re looking for?” Victoria said with a smile and a wink. The housekeeper’s eyes widened with surprise as she nodded.
“We’re looking for Master Edmund.”
“And is Master Edmund fond of cake?”
“That he is, my lady. If you could point me in his direction, I’ll see to it that he gets a piece with his dinner.” The housekeeper smiled, her eyes displaying an obvious affection for the Nicholas’ brother. Considering the housekeeper’s proposal, Victoria shook her head.
“Lady Starling was supposed to send up some dinner for me. Would you please ask Mrs. Babcocke to prepare a plate for Master Edmund as well and add cake to our trays? We’ll eat in here.”
“Of course, my lady, I’ll do that right away.” Mrs. Beechum smiled brightly at Victoria’s words. “May I introduce Nurse Parkerton? She’s responsible for Master Edmund.”
The woman dropped a quick curtsey. Her expression looked pinched, which did little to enhance her already plain looks. When the nurse spoke, it was in a high, nasal tone.
“I don’t wish Master Edmund to trouble you, my lady. I’ll be happy to take him back to his rooms.”
“We’ll leave you then, my lady.” Mrs. Beechum curtseyed. “Dinner will be brought up shortly, and I’ll have Molly come light your lamps for you as well.” When the nurse appeared ready to argue, the housekeeper gently pulled the woman out of the room. As the door closed behind them, Victoria moved back to the bed. Crouching down, she pulled the bedspread up to peek under the bed and smile at Edmund.
“It’s safe for you to come out now. Dinner will be here soon, and afterward we’ll have cake. Would you like that?”
“Yes, please.”
For a man his size, Edmund nimbly crawled out from under the bed frame. As he got to his feet he looked down at her and grinned. He looked quite pleased with himself, and she couldn’t help smiling back. Despite his obvious handicap he was still a charmer. Victoria moved to the chair next to the chaise lounge where he stood waiting for her to sit down.
“What’s your favorite kind of cake, Edmund?”
“Apple cake,” he exclaimed. “Mrs. Babcocke makes it when the apples fall off the trees. Nicholas helps me pick them sometimes, but he won’t let me climb the trees. He says I might fall and hurt myself.”
“That makes him a good brother. I wouldn’t like to see you hurt either.”
“You were mean before you came back.”
“I’m sorry,” she said quietly. Victoria wanted to find the countess and rip the woman a new one for being such a bitch.
“You’re nice now, you’re getting me cake.”
She laughed. His face reminded her of Nicholas’ in its shape, but there the similarities ended. Edmund’s mouth did not have a stern line to its form, and his body was lanky and thinner than his brother’s. For the next half-hour, Edmund entertained her with stories of his life at Brentwood Park until Molly arrived with their dinner. As Victoria prepared a plate for Edmund, she instructed him to sit on the lounge sofa. Flinging himself onto the striped daybed, he laughed with glee.
“My mother used to tell me about this chair,” he said with a trace of bewildered sadness. “She said she used to take naps on it.”