Chapter Nine
Ben was dressed by two servants Enis and Alger with Stephen overseeing the choices of attire, and finally tying the knot in his cravat.
“By the way,”
his old war-time friend said in a low voice.
“I saw Miss Ramsey sitting in a chair in the hall.”
Ben’s heart began to involuntarily thump against his bones.
“Which hall?”
“The one outside your door and to the right, just beyond the painting of your father's prized hound.”
“What is she doing there?”
Ben steadied his voice and slowed his breath.
Why did the need to hurry and go see her suddenly overwhelm him? “Is she waiting for someone?”
The steward picked up the barely contained anticipation in the duke’s voice and gave him a surprised look.
“I asked her that very question and she replied that she was waiting for you.”
Ben was sure the steward could hear his heartbeat.
How should he feel about this? She was bold without a hint of arrogance, beautifully ethereal, beguiling his senses and clouding his good sense.
“I told her she was waiting at the wrong door and showed her where she should go.”
“So she’s outside my door?”
When Stephen nodded Ben didn’t know if he wanted to thank him or wring his hands around the steward’s neck.
“All done,”
Stephen stepped back to examine him and nodded with a smile.
Ben didn’t reply or say a word to him as he left his rooms.
When he pulled open the doors, he was ready to tell her that there was not, nor would there ever be anything between them.
But when he saw her waiting for him, every other thought was held captive by the fleeting, reckless desire to kill anyone who tried to take her from his presence.
He was doomed.
He hated himself and the day that brought him here.
He wanted to be someone else, someone free of the chains that bound him, free to offer his heart to her.
But she wasn’t his destiny.
Feeding the warrior was, ridding the land of Jacobites was.
“What are you doing here?”
“I thought you might want to take a stroll with me, maybe through the garden.”
A hint of a smile hovered around her lips.
“It’s a beautiful day.”
Did she think he had nothing better to do than stroll around aimlessly? He stared at her.
Did she have no one else to ask? He realized when he tried to swallow that he would have been miserable if she went strolling with someone else.
He nodded and swept his hand before him indicating that she should join him.
“I haven’t forgotten that you promised to teach me to read,”
she reminded him, leaning in with a playful smile.
“I will if you can cease fainting for days on end.”
She set her hand on her hip and quirked her brow.
“I’m not the fainting type,”
she let him know.
“I really don’t know what’s come over me.”
“Starvation? Exhaustion?”
he supplied.
“I’ve been hungry before,”
she said, “but never on the verge of starvation.
I’ll admit I was pretty exhausted.”
“You should be resting, not strolling,”
he admonished with his gaze to the ground and a tender thread in his voice.
He wasn’t angry with her and he didn’t want to hurt her by speaking roughly to her.
He wanted to call Sudbury to the yard and have a go at fighting him just to prove to himself that the warrior still lived within him and he hadn’t turned into a bucket of sun-warmed honey over this woman.
“Is that why you didn’t stop by my rooms last night?”
“Hmm?”
He lifted his gaze to her.
Poor decision.
How was he expected to think straight when she was so pretty, looking up at him with her huge, bold, beguiling eyes.
He felt more of his defenses crumbling.
How could he think of fighting and battle when he was looking at her, shrouded in the fire of the sun? He had to blink to bring himself back to the present–to what she had asked.
“I didn’t come because,”
he paused, keeping his eyes on hers, “because I don’t wish to cause you any sadness.”
She smiled softly at him, making his heart ache for something unfamiliar, yet haunting.
Happiness.
“How do you know you will?”
she asked.
“Because…”
Why? Why did he have to tell her? He felt a knot grow in his belly, making him want to double over.
“Because I intend…no.
I dream of returning to battle.”
It wasn’t the truth anymore.
He didn’t dream of it.
He dreamed of her.
“I don’t think I can be happy any other way, and even if I do marry, I must do what my father wished.”
He didn’t wait to see her reaction, but turned to look ahead.
When a moment or two passed without any reply for her, he turned to her again.
He was certain he’d never look at another woman the same way.
He held his breath when she took a little breath and opened her mouth to speak.
“Look, Your Grace, I honestly don’t understand your allegiance to your father.
I’ve never felt it.
I never even knew it existed until now.
None of the people my mother or me knew felt any kind of loyalty to anyone, beginning with their parents.
But I know you were young when you lost him.
You never had a chance to show him the man you’d grow to be.I’m sure that stings.”
He swallowed and nodded so slightly he wasn’t sure if she saw it.
“But he’s gone,”
she continued.
“He isn’t looking down, watching to see whether or not you obey his last wishes.
Where exactly would he be looking from? Not Heaven if he’s more interested in being honored by his son than he is in enjoying Paradise, and do you think he would really want you to join him so early in your life?”
She waited a moment for him to answer, then bowed her head repentantly.
“I’m sorry.
I got carried away.”
She got carried away over him.
He liked how it made him feel and then cursed himself for it.
“Are you angry…with me?”
she asked, sounding as if she worried about his answer.
“No,”
he answered without hesitation.
“That’s good.”
She smiled at him but there was only sadness in her eyes.
“Fable–”
he began, regretting and unsure about his decision, but she cut him off.
“Because I think we should skip the stroll.
It won’t do either of us any good.
I’ll be going.”
Before she drew her next breath, she turned back and marched the other way.
Calling forth every last shred of strength he possessed he didn't go after her.
He was sorry he let this go on for as long as it did.
They’d called it a game, but it had become so much more to him.
It troubled him because this was a battlefield he’d never been on.
His opponent had the power to render him weak and pitiful at any point in time.
It scared the hell out of him.
But there was another part of him that watched after her, aching to stop her, haul her in his arms, and kiss her until they were both senseless.
And then take her to his bed.
Instead, he spent the day mostly alone, with her on his mind.
He had a game of chess with Sudbury, which, incredibly, he lost.
After that he practiced his sword fighting with the earl, and won.
By the time the sun went down, it felt as if fifty days had passed.
It was better this way, he told himself.Stay away from her.But he wasn’t sure he could do it again tomorrow.
Madly, he missed her more than he’d ever had missed anyone before.
Her sweet face enchanted him.
It astounded him how such a fairy looking woman had found a way through his iron defenses.
Had she? He wanted to scoff at the way the memory of her beguiling smile made his heart race until he felt light-headed.
The way her wide, aqua eyes pulled him into their depths and tempted him to give up everything for her, mainly his revenge. He wouldn’t take her for a wife, defying his father and his sister, and end up leaving to slaughter or be slaughtered, making her a widow.
It drove him mad and he couldn’t lay his head down on his pillow.
If she felt anything for him, and he believed she did, then his words–his possibly last words to her, were hopeless and hurtful.
She hadn’t wanted to spend another moment with him.
He ran his hands down his face as he paced before his bed.
When she said she was going, did she mean going to her rooms, or leaving the premises? Why hadn’t he checked to see if she was in her bed?
And if she wasn’t, should he go after her again?
Something shook him from deep inside like an earthquake.
For a moment he couldn’t move.
It felt as if every bone was crumbling, every muscle withering.
He closed his eyes, and with his father and his need for revenge gently pushed to the side, he left his bed.
#
Fable wasn’t sure she’d ever get used to being tucked into bed, but she remained still and compliant while Edith pulled up her blanket.
“Is it the duke who took away your smile, dear one?”
Fable shrugged and then nodded and sniffed.
“He can’t be happy with me.”
“Oh, now that’s the most foolish thing I’ve ever heard.
Why, he is already happy with you.”
“Oh, Edith,”
Fable scoffed.
“His heart belongs to no one.
No one alive, at least.”
“I do confess that most find him unapproachable and uncompromising,”
Edith went on.
“But he’s changed since you arrived.
He seems less…angry.
We all notice it, Miss.”
“That makes it even more tragic, Edith.
He’ll do what his father wanted.
He’ll do what he believes he needs to do.
Avenge his parents.
That’s the kind of man he is.”
“We’ll see,”
Edith said with a sigh.
“His Grace is strong-willed and wise.
He will make the right choice.
Now to bed with you.”
Fable looped her arms around the servant’s neck and pulled her in for an embrace.
“Goodnight, Edith.”
The woman startled for a moment unused to such behavior, then, as her heart warmed, she patted Fable’s back.
“Sleep well, Dear.”
Fable waited while Edith blew out the candles and then left her alone.
In the dark, she wondered who she was that another person would tuck her in and blow out the candles besides her mother? But her mother never had.
She soon fell asleep to the sound of raindrops against the shutters and memories of the duke’s handsome face.
But his face changed as thunder peeled and lightning flashed in the night sky.
His smile was grotesque as he reached for what was in her hand.
She looked.
It was the pocket watch.
He grabbed for it but she snatched back her hand and began to run.
He chased her through dark, wet alleys, along dimly-lit roads, and through a pitch-black forest.
His clutching fingers always felt as if they were a hair away from her, ready to snatch her away. She ran until her lungs burned and her legs ached. But just when she thought she had escaped him, he appeared in front of her and caught her in his arms. You call for the duke. Do you know him?
“Let me go!”
she cried out, fighting and struggling while he held her in his vise-like embrace.
“It’s all right,”
a soothing male voice said in her ears.
“You’re safe.”
Her eyes shot open as a scream left her lips.
“No! Duke?”
The instant she recognized him, she wrapped her arms around his neck and held on.
How did she get into the hall…into his arms? “Ben.
The time traveler was after me.”
“You’re here with me now.
You’re safe,”
he soothed and lifted her off her feet.
She melted against him.
How did she end up in his arms? Had she been sleepwalking? “How did I come to be in the hall?”
she asked, so glad and thankful that he’d been there.
“I couldn’t sleep and I was on my way to check on you and found you dreamwalking.”
Suddenly she forgot her dream, but hadn’t he rejected her? “Do you check on me at night?”
He stared at her then nodded.
“I know you sometimes have night terrors.
Like tonight. Come,”
he said gently, carrying her back to her rooms.
“I’ll bring you back to bed.
Do you want me to call for Edith?”
He spoke so softly to her and with such comfort she could have fallen asleep on the way.
She shook her head and held onto him.
“I just want you.”
He closed his arm around her tighter.
“You have me.”
Fable shivered.
What did that mean, she had him? Did he mean she was a guest in his house and as such she fell under his protection? Or was he speaking of something more personal, more serious? Hadn’t he already told her that he had to honor his father’s wishes? How long would she have him? She blinked herself out of her reverie.
It was dangerous to start depending on someone.
She wanted to tell him to put her down, but her mouth stayed shut.
She let him bring her to her bed but releasing him was still humiliatingly difficult.
She was afraid the time-traveler would never stop chasing her.
“Maybe,”
she told the duke while he helped her into bed.
“I should meet with him–”
“Absolutely not,”
he said, his gaze level with hers, his tone, deep and foreboding.
“I’ll meet with him if he ever dares to show up here.”
“Ben?”
“Hmm?”
He pulled up a chair to sit close to her by the bed.
“How come you never ask me where the pocket watch is? Don’t you believe what I told you?”
“I believe you,”
he told her softly.
She didn’t know why he would, but she was happy he did.
“He said if the policemen took his pocket watch, he’d kill them all.
And now I have it.
I can’t give it back.
I may need it to return to my time.
Besides, I don’t have it with me.”
“You’re truly thinking of leaving?”
he asked.
His voice was hesitant, laced with regret.
There was nothing here for her.
She wouldn't stick around while he was marrying one of those horrible shrews, or gleefully going off to war.
“I’m not so sure I could survive here, Your Grace.”
“I’ll see that you do,”
he insisted.
“How? By keeping me as your servant?”
“You were never my servant.”
She wouldn’t try to figure out his meaning.
If he felt something let him tell her, but only if he meant to remain with her.
“He’s here and I’m afraid of him,”
she told him, staying on the important topic.
“I don’t think he came from the twenty-first century originally.
His clothes looked more like he came from here.
And he had a sword with blood on it.”
The duke left the chair and sat in bed with her.
When he opened his arms to her, she sank into them.
“Before he brought me here, he asked me if I knew his wife.
He said the pocket watch had eaten her up.
I don’t know what he meant except that she traveled through time with it.
First he asked me if I knew her, then he asked me if I knew you.
At first, I felt bad for him. Crazy, you know? But when the police came, he held his sword to my throat.”
“If he wants to live,”
Ben growled above her, “he better not show his face near you ever again.”
Fable closed her eyes and let herself take comfort in his strong arms and warm promises.
“Ben?”
she asked, happy that he hadn’t blown out all the candles.
When she opened her eyes, she could see him as well as feel him in her arms.
“There’s something you should know about me.
I used to cheat people out of their money in card games, dice–”
“Chess,”
he added, sounding stern.
She stared at his neck in his untied shirt.
“What do you think of me now?”
“Why did you do it?”
“To eat.”
He stroked her back and caught her gaze when she raised it to him.
“Fable, I think the same thing about you that I thought this morning.
You’re a wonder to my senses.
You’re treading where none before you have ever dared go.”
She thought of the audacity of herself to attend his sister’s ball as an uninvited guest.
“I’m sorry for involving myself in your private affairs.”
He smiled, staring into her eyes in the dim light.
“Miss, you’re welcome in every part of my life.”
Was she?
“What about your war? What about your father’s wishes?”
He took in a deep breath, then let it out.
“I was afraid you might have left Colchester after what I told you.
Your absence made me certain that I don’t want you to leave.
Mayhap I should try living my life and give being happy a try.
Finally.
The only way to be happy is to be with you.”
She was sure there were hearts floating from her eyes at his words.
She wanted to laugh…and giggle…and cry tears of happiness.
Was he real? Were her prayers for a different, safer life finally answered? And not only answered, but added to? “I want to be happy too,”
she told him softly.
He closed his arms around her and held her tighter, closer.
“Let me be the one to make you happy, Fable.”
She wanted it to be him.
Could it be? “You’re the person in my life I didn’t know I needed.
Or maybe I did know it and that’s why it was so tragic.
You didn’t exist in that time.”
“I’m here now.”
With her ear pressed to his chest, his voice echoed through her as deep as the shadows.
“What about your sister?”
she asked.
Prudence West was a force to be reckoned with.
She would be against anything they did.
“Why does it seem she cares more about money than your happiness?”
“Likely because she believes money makes us happy.”
He stroked her hair down her back while he spoke, lulling Fable to the brink of utter comfort.
“She was thirteen when our parents were killed.
She was our father’s only daughter, and the apple of his eye.
His last wish means everything to her.
As for my father, he knew I was a bit sentimental and he worried that I would marry for love and lose the fortune he took years to build.
So he added a clause to his will that his last wish was for me to wed into a powerful family.
My sister is determined to see his wish fulfilled.”
“What about you?”
she asked then yawned.
“You feel strongly about his last wish, don’t you?”
He shook his head.
“The last thing I’ve given any thought to is taking a wife.
I never really thought to live past the age of thirty years.”
He smiled warmly when she gave his arm a slight slap.
“Another reason Prudence has trouble with poverty is because we weren’t saved from the full terrible clutches of it,”
he told her.
“Three years after our parents were killed, we were thrown out of Colchester House by His Grace the Duke of Addinton for debts my father allegedly owed.
We were left to live or die on the street.”
When Fable heard this, she opened her eyes and lifted her head off his chest.
“You were homeless?”
He nodded.
“For two years, we stole and begged for scraps of food.”
“What?”
She rubbed her eyes and opened them even wider.
“Why didn’t you ever tell me?”
“My sister hates that we were once ‘street urchins’.
She will be angry if she knows I told you.
I’m glad to be telling you now though.
I understand some of the hardships of living out there, especially for a girl.
I saved my sister from being raped thirteen times, and was stabbed several times for it.
But at least she had me.
You had no one.”
“You felt responsible for someone else,”
she pointed out.
“I was free of that.”
She felt him breathing and let it lull her again.
“How did you return home?”
“We met Lord Andrew Holt, the Marquess of Cambridge and he took us in.
But I was troublesome.”
Fable looked up at him again.
“ You were troublesome?”
He ignored her doubtful tone and continued.
“I joined the Royal army and three years after that I rode back to Colchester House with proof that my father never owed any debts, killed the Duke of Addinton and his men, and took my house back.”
She stared into his doe eyes and tried to imagine him wild with rage and revenge.
She quirked her brow at him.
He wasn’t the enraged, wild type.
Captain Ben West was put together, composed, and disciplined.
He was the planned out, quiet assault type of guy.
“You’re very attractive ,”
she said boldly, and then looked away to blush.
“Why do you say that?”
he asked, his voice deep and low with restraint that started out playful.
“I like that you took back what was yours,”
she told him.
“What about the killing?”
he asked her quietly.
He didn’t look worried by what her answer would be, but the slight shift of his resolute jaw revealed how he felt about it.
“It was a consequence of his vile actions.”
He was still for a few seconds.
Was he breathing? Fable looked into his eyes and then smiled when he pulled her closer and held her more tightly.
“Ben?”
she said after another minute and let her gaze settle on his lips.
“I’ve never been in love before.”
He moved his warm palms up and down her back.
“Neither have I.”
“I’ve never been with a man before.”
“Nor I with a woman.”
His voice resonated through her blood, her bones.
She felt him move his fingers through her hair, over her chin, then under it.
He lifted her face gently and then moved closer to kiss her.
And then his lips were pressing against hers and she couldn’t think of anything but the wonderful warmth and safety of his arms, the tender curiosity of his lips, and his kiss that told a thousand stories of a man losing his heart to a woman.
As she suspected, his bottom lip was plumper, softer.
She tested it instinctively with her teeth.
He reacted by pulling her closer into the warm, hard angles of his body.
She shivered with desire and the anticipation of fulfilling it.
She opened her mouth to his, welcoming his tongue with a fleeting dance of her tongue across it–until he pushed her down gently and deepened his kiss, capturing her tongue and holding it still with his.
His mouth was hot, like a brand, sealing her as his.Oh, she shouldn’t have come this far. Now, she didn’t have the resolve to hold back. Yes, she would be his. She would happily be his. He made her breath come hard and fast. His hungry tongue, like a curious touch over the pulse of her throat made some muscles loosen while others grew tighter. When he scraped his teeth over her chin, her legs opened involuntarily, nestling him close. She felt his body growing tighter, harder as his lips returned to hers. Her heart felt as if it were going to pound right out of her chest.
Finally, he withdrew.
He gazed into her eyes.
His plump, red lips hovered above hers.
“No matter how much I fight it, or how unfamiliar it is to me, I’m almost fully certain that I love you, Miss Ramsey.”