by Jenny Lykins
"I'm sure the guests are buzzing with conjecture as we speak. But I believe I am correct in assuming you don't wish certain facts to be known. Therefore, I am leaving you here to explain to our guests in your own words why we are not getting married.
"Bear in mind, however, that at this point I will not tolerate a blackening of my name, or Elise's, or Jeffrey's, for that matter." Again he nodded to Jeffrey, and again his nod was returned.
"Vancoeur, my good friend, might I impose upon you to remain here and insure my instructions are carried out as requested?"
Jeffrey's face was comically solemn. "Wouldn't have it any other way, Blackwell."
"I leave her in your capable hands, then."
He flicked his gaze one last time over Angeline. She was trembling, but no longer from fury. It was the first time he'd ever seen her speechless. She might yet learn to exercise an economy with words.
He strode from the room, and as he passed into the hallway he heard Vancoeur's voice.
"Don't bother to swoon, Angeline. It won't get you out of this one. I'll simply dump this pitcher over your head and send you out there dripping wet."
*******
Reed wasted no time in the stables. He slid a bridle onto his horse and jumped onto its bare back.
He had to saw on the reins to keep from running over Nell, who had darted in front of him, waving her arms.
"Mistah Reed! Mistah Reed! You remembers, don't you? You remembers Miz ‘Lise."
"Yes, Nellie my love. I remember everything." It'd been so long since he'd smiled, this one hurt his face. "I'm on my way to get her now!"
"Oh, Lordy, Mistah Reed. Miz ‘Lise done tell me to give her some of my potion to send her to her home."
Reed's breathing stopped.
"When did she ask for it, Nell?"
"The day she leave Oak Vista. She tell me she can't stay here and watch you marry someone else."
"Nooooo!" Reed's cry was that of a tortured animal. He yanked the reins and kicked his horse into a dead run. The cold that had gripped his empty soul since he was torn from Elise's arms now gripped him in a glacial bitterness.
"Mistah Reed! Wait! Mistah Reed!"
But she was talking to a cloud of dust.
*******
She first became aware of the familiar, muffled ticking of the grandfather clock in the foyer. Her head felt muzzy, like she'd been drugged, and she burrowed deeper into the covers and tried to go back to sleep.
Then realization dawned on her.
She was home! Oh, dear Lord, what had she done?
But wait! She sat up and stared ahead of her. This was her room in the past! She hadn't left! Dear, sweet Nell had switched the teas after all. She'd only given her something to knock her out.
Covers flew from the bed and she grabbed the first gown she came to and began to struggle into it. She had to find Reed.
Could she convince him Angeline had manufactured this story? Could he get an annulment?
She fumbled with the buttons at the back of her neck.
How had she gotten here...
"Make one more move and I'll hose you down with tear gas."
Elise froze with her elbows skyward, the buttons on her dress forgotten. She spun around to find the owner of the voice, his name a cry on her lips.
"Reed!"
And there he was - a work of art propped against the headboard, right beside where she'd been sleeping. The sheet was draped enticingly across his lap, his tanned, muscled chest exposed and begging for her fingertips to trace the many ridges. His fingers were laced behind his head, and the boyish grin belied the powerful man behind it.
She was on top of him in a heartbeat.
"Reed," she cried. "Tell me you didn't marry her. Let me hear you say it." Her words were distorted from the frantic kisses they each sought.
"No, little one. I didn't marry her." He peppered kisses along her neck. "How could I? I'm married to you."
Her head shot up and she held his face between her hands. She studied his eyes - happy, blue eyes that sparkled up at her. Then she remembered his comment about the tear gas.
Her heart nearly burst.
"You remember?" It was part exclamation, part question.
He wasn't able to answer. He was buried in a cloud of cotton skirts and a flurry of kisses. When the kisses slowed and turned into long, languid expressions of love, Elise forgot she'd even asked.
She forgot everything but the moment. The rightness of how they fit together, the conflagration they both generated with a mere touch. There would be time for questions later. All the time in the world. But right now she joined Reed in wiping all coherent thoughts from her mind.
Many hours later, in the humidity of New Orleans in June, and under a light covering of sheets, Reed gathered Elise close. She felt his chest vibrate and heard his heart beat faster as he sighed. She snuggled even closer.
"What are you thinking, darlin'?"
He hesitated, as if collecting his thoughts.
"I'm thinking, little one, that I finally feel warm again."
###
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Originally from West Virginia, Jenny now lives in western Tennessee with her husband, along with the Goddess of the Universe (a cranky old “kitten” named Mabes), and two Samoyed “puppies” named Czar Nicholas and Alexandra, but they answer to Czar and Lexxie, Trouble and Chaos, Dumb and Dumber…you get the picture.
DISCOVER OTHER TITLES BY JENNY LYKINS AT SMASHWORDS.COM:
Spirit of the Ruins
The Ghost of Christmas Present
Lost Yesterday
Waiting for Yesterday
Distant Dreams
River of Dreams