Twin Flames (Twin Flames #1)

Chapter 7

CHAPTER 7

T he Great North Road, 1536

Cara, George and Swifty had been on horseback for hours, riding hard and fast through the clammy heat of the afternoon. Cara’s body ached, and she longed to stop, but the fear of capture was greater than the ache of her tired muscles.

She had swapped places with Swifty when it became evident he was liable to fall off and break his neck.

‘My brother loves horses, but I’ve never ridden one,’ he said. ‘I thought it would be easier.’

Cara handled the beautiful chestnut with quiet confidence, surprised that she was so comfortable on a horse. She had no memory of riding, apart from a few obligatory lessons as a child. She was thrilled to find herself quite the seasoned horse rider.

Cara decided she would visit Sylvia, the psychic, again, as soon as she was back in the present. She wanted to find out more about how time travel worked, and Sylvia was the only person who might be able to help.

How do I get home?

She felt a pang of terror at the thought of being stranded indefinitely in 1536. She was accused of treason and witchcraft, under threat of execution by order of King Henry VIII. Was the real purpose of her arrival here, to save George? Or had she fallen prey to an accident in the grand scheme of time, and shouldn’t be here at all?

She looked over at George. Either way, she was thankful to be near him, but their lives were at stake. Questions darted about her mind. She didn’t know much, but she did know for certain that it was 1536. Queen Anne’s death proved it. A chill ran down her spine as she remembered the queen’s execution; it was a vivid picture of the dreadful event. She wondered whether she’d ever remember more of her Tudor life. Her memory was so unreliable. It was frustrating.

Cara had prayed with fervour for the king to pardon Anne, right up to the second before the queen’s head was severed from her pale neck. Cara and George had wanted to believe that their king would be merciful. At one time, he had desired Anne so deeply he had defied the Pope, to establish a new church in England so they could marry. Alas, it had all been for nothing.

Cara witnessed the sword slice through the air as it moved to enact its bloody deed. She could still see the queen’s black eyes. They were shining pools of desperation as she beseeched the king and made her final statement. She was courageous to the end. The only blessing was that dear Anne hadn’t suffered the indignity of a brutal axe beheading. King Henry must have pitied her sufficiently to arrange the special execution. She was thankful that her queen had died instantly, not at the hands of a fumbling axe wielder.

By some unorthodox twist of time, Cara now found herself living in an era which was her foremost area of expertise.

Was this her ultimate destiny?

‘Look,’ said George, startling her. ‘There are wanted posters nailed to the trees.’ He rode closer and pulled on the reins of the jet-black steed so he could read the headline. Poor Swifty almost slid off the horse.

WANTED! EARL AND COUNTESS CAVENDISH. Accused of Treason and Witchcraft. ￡1000 Reward (Preferred Alive.)

‘Oh my Lord,’ said Cara. There were crude sketches of their faces on the dusty posters which bore a mild resemblance to them. ‘At least they don’t know you’re with us, Swifty. They’re not after you, so that’s something to be grateful for.’ Cara reached over and ruffled his hair. She couldn’t imagine what hardships he had endured on the streets of London.

‘I’m just another boy with no name in Newgate,’ Swifty said, displaying remarkable maturity for his years. There was no self-pity in his voice; just clarity about his place in the natural order of things. ‘They won’t notice I’m gone.’

‘When we’re through this nightmare, they’ll be a place for you at Willow Manor with your brother,’ said Cara.

George turned and smiled at his wife. They looked at each other. No words were necessary. He adored her generosity.

Swifty’s blue eyes welled up, and tears glistened on his long eyelashes. He wiped his filthy sleeve across his face and cleared his throat.

‘Thank you, my lady. You and my lord are the most kind and generous folk. My brother was right when he spoke of you. I would love to be with Bertie again.’

‘He’ll need to teach you a thing or two about horses.’ George laughed. ‘Come on. We’d better get off this road. We’re far too visible, and we need to stop and rest awhile.’

They cantered on the grassy track for a few more minutes before Cara guided the chestnut down the bank and on to a narrow track. George and Swifty followed.

Five miles back along the road, King Henry’s soldiers rode in vigorous pursuit of the escaped prisoners. They had firm orders to deliver the earl and countess to the Tower of London, preferably alive, but dead if necessary. Their escape was an embarrassment to the council, and the king was livid. He had declared that no one must escape from Newgate Prison again.

At the Black Eagle Inn, two men huddled around a table in a dim corner, waiting for their chance to continue their conversation with the busy innkeeper. They drank their ale and watched him. They were keen to know more about his stolen horses.

York, present day

Cara opened the front door to her cottage and entered the bright hallway, which immediately raised her spirits. She loved her home. It had been an exhausting day. She dropped her suitcase onto the shiny wooden floor and sighed. The return journey had been difficult because images of Daniel pecked at her conscience at every turn. She caught herself grinning like a love-struck teen when she thought of George, but her happiness was soured by guilt. She had decided she would tell Daniel their engagement was off as soon as she had a chance. There was no real choice: she could fight her feelings, but she was certain she would lose. After what had occurred in Seville, she couldn't keep up the charade any longer. She knew the truth in her soul. The partnership she had talked herself into, was dead. Her relationship with Daniel was built on a bedrock of self- deception. It was no one’s fault but her own. She’d been lying to herself all along, and now the bubble had abruptly burst. She was drowning in conflicting emotions.

She had pretended to herself, and to him, that what they had would be enough. She had wanted to believe she could be fulfilled in a life with Daniel because it was the sensible choice. Cara liked order and good sense. Messy, unpredictable emotions made her feel dangerously out of control. She’d lost any illusion of being in control since meeting George.

Being thrown into another time, without any say over when she came or went, was a leveller of epic proportions. She was too preoccupied with her feelings for George to battle anything else. She couldn’t now settle for an ordinary relationship. It wasn’t fair on any of them.

But that won’t make it any easier to tell him.

A heavy mass of emotion clogged in her chest, and the task which lay ahead looked ominous. She pulled her cardigan tighter around her shoulders and went to make tea. She was tired and cold. As she poured the boiling water on the teabag, she pondered the kindest way to break the news to Daniel. Her stomach churned at the thought of hurting him. He was a good man; this wasn’t fair to him at all, but ultimately, staying with him when she didn’t love him, would be even worse. He deserved better. He would find somebody more suited once word got out that he was back on the market. She frequently heard women in York complain about the shortage of eligible men. They were all apparently either married or too screwed up to marry.

Cara wished she could be happy with what she had. It would be so much simpler. From the minute, she’d collided with George in the bookshop, the old life she had so carefully constructed had begun to disintegrate. It was no longer hers to live. There was no going back to the way it was; to the way she had been. There hadn’t been an earthquake in York that day, but there had been a monumental shift.

She sat at the wooden table, cradling her mug of tea, pondering how she’d got herself into this crazy mess.

Seville, the previous day

Cara had never felt so close to anyone as she did to George. Alejandro drove her to the conference and waited to take her back to the villa. George had asked if she would stay the night with him. She’d expressed concern about his staff. He had assured her that Valeria had the following day off, and Alejandro was discreet and had been loyal to him for years.

Cara lay in George’s arms, prosecco-like bubbles of joy fizzed in her belly. They had just made exquisite love again, and she felt emboldened. She trailed her fingers across his chest.

‘Have you ever had anything like this happen to you before? I’ve read stories about couples who’ve met and fallen instantly in love. One of my friends met a guy in Canada, and they were married within two weeks. It seemed crazy to me at the time, but now I think I get it.’ Cara blushed. ‘I mean . . . I didn’t mean we should get married, obviously,’ she trailed off, wishing she hadn’t spoken.

He’s already married, you fool.

They were married in the Tudor timeline, but that didn’t change the reality of their present-day life.

‘I know what you mean but I’ve never experienced anything like it.’ He stroked her shoulder and dropped a kiss onto her collarbone.

She shivered.

‘Apart from the French dancer and the Swedish librarian,’ he said.

Her heart missed a beat. ‘What?’ she said, her voice high-pitched and squeaky. Then she saw his smile. ‘Ah, you are teasing me.’

They laughed and joked as they nibbled on Spanish delicacies, made more sweet love and then fell into a blissful sleep just after midnight. It was the perfect evening. Cara awoke in the early hours to go to the bathroom and caught sight of her pink cheeks in the mirror. Her skin was flushed from George’s stubble, and she glowed from within. She’d not known contentment like this existed.

I’m going to enjoy each moment and not worry about tomorrow.

She returned to the giant bed and nestled into the cocoon of his arms. He stirred and planted a trail of kisses on her neck. The sensation of his naked body touching hers aroused her. His kisses torched her senses like touch-paper. Her longing for him was unquenchable. His lips sought hers with increasing urgency, and in seconds, they were tasting and devouring each other’s bodies again.

Their passion surged, and once again they lost all inhibitions. They undulated together to their own tempo as shards of dawn splayed through the wooden shutters.

First light cast a golden glow across the white linen sheets and illuminated the sleeping pair as they lay locked together. Cara had fallen into a deep slumber and dreamt of perfect days at Willow Manor with George, Thomas and May.

Seville, that afternoon

George drove Cara to the airport.

‘I’m going to tell Daniel I’m calling off the engagement. It’s only right,’ she said.

George glanced at her and touched her hand. His other hand rested casually on the steering wheel as the powerful vehicle effortlessly hoovered up the miles to the airport. There was a heavy silence as her words hung in the air between them.

‘Are you certain you want to do that?’ he said, after a while.

His question knocked her off balance. She was suddenly reeling.

Did he not want her to do it? Had she misunderstood his feelings? Ouch.

‘Don’t worry. I don’t expect anything from you. But I can’t continue with him after this. It’s not fair. You stay as you are if that’s what you want.’

‘I didn’t say that.’

Cara could tell she’d upset him. Would this be their first proper disagreement?

‘No, you didn’t. You didn’t have to.’

‘I only asked if you’re sure that’s what you want. I was thinking about you, not myself.’

‘That makes it worse,’ she said. ‘It sounds as though you don’t care, as though it doesn’t affect you, at all.’

‘Cara, that’s not fair. You’re jumping to conclusions. Of course, I care.’

Tears welled in her eyes, and she looked away from George, out of the window. She didn’t want him to see her cry.

He sighed. ‘It’s complicated. I can’t tell Joanna just like that. I will need to take it slower.’

His words sliced into her heart like sharp blades. Did he really intend to continue on with business as usual, as if Seville hadn’t happened? She must have misread him completely. What an idiot. Just because she was in love with him, didn’t mean he felt the same.

‘Cara look at me.’

‘No,’ she said. ‘I can’t. If that’s how you feel, then it’s all been a huge mistake. I won’t get in the way of your perfect marriage. Forgive me for misunderstanding your feelings.’

‘You haven’t misunderstood my feelings,’ he said.

She turned to him, tears spilling from her eyes even as she willed herself to keep it together.

‘What’s unfair is you acting as though nothing has happened.’

‘I’m not. I’m sorry if that’s how it sounded.’

Cara turned away once again. The humiliation was too much to bear. She wondered whether him telling his wife would be as big a shock as he thought. She nibbled her bottom lip.

‘Don’t worry. I won’t mention anything about you to Daniel. It would only complicate matters. Anyway, it’s not really the point. Us getting together is a wakeup call. It’s not the reason we’re not fulfilled with our partners. If we were, we wouldn’t keep seeking each other out like this.’

‘Yes, but I doubt Daniel would see it that way,’ he said.

‘Does Joanna have any reason to doubt you?’

‘I suppose she does, but not because I’ve been unfaithful. I haven’t. . .until now. But our marriage was never really more than a friendship. Of course, I didn’t realise it at first. I thought we were compatible on every level, but as we matured, it became evident we were more suited as friends than lovers. I suppose I believed it was true love because I wanted to.’

‘And would she agree with you?’

‘Probably not. She’s in love with the idea of being in love. She’s a romantic like most women. Our friends think we’re the perfect couple and that’s important to her.’

‘Yes, well, girls are raised on romantic fairy tales and get lost in the fantasy of being saved by the perfect man.’

‘True. Living up to the image of the perfect man isn’t much fun. And after a while, Joanna lost interest in sex, and I stopped initiating. I grew tired of the rejection. I don’t think we’re very different from many couples; we started off with good intentions only to discover the initial attraction rapidly died. We were left poking and prodding the embers in a desperate attempt to reignite the feeble fire.’

‘I see,’ said Cara. Perhaps she hadn’t misunderstood his feelings after all.

‘We never experienced the spark you and I share, not even in the early days,’ he said, touching her hand and looking into her eyes.

And just like that, the pain dissolved. Once again, Cara was overcome with a deep tenderness for him. They halted at a zebra crossing on the outskirts of the airport complex. His revelation soothed her tortured soul. There was hope. He too felt the depth of their connection.

They kissed goodbye in the car. Cara held him close as if trying to capture a piece of him to sustain her until they would be together again. He squeezed her tight for a couple of seconds before releasing her. She managed to stop herself from tearing up. They walked to the terminal, hands brushing casually at their sides. The flight was due to leave on schedule, so it was almost time for them to say goodbye. At the security gate, they hugged; it was a quick modest hug, much like good friends or family members might share. They both kept their emotions in check as if by agreement. They instinctively sensed what the other required. Cara turned to wave and blow him a kiss.

He watched her leave, sadness choking him. And then she was gone; lost in the throng of people rushing to their next destination.

Cara walked through the gate, curious what George would say if she told him about Sylvia’s strange predictions. And she couldn’t even begin to imagine what he’d make of their Tudor life together five hundred years earlier. He’d probably think her insane, and she wouldn’t blame him.

No, I’d better continue to keep it all a secret for now.