Chapter 22
Chapter Twenty-Two
The ride back to the house was stifling. Haven groaned in mortification as she thought back to the horrendous scene in the pasture. Though she understood how the duke would assume she was trying to run away, she didn’t like his reaction.
Ugh, the duke. He was pissed.
Glancing over, she wondered how he could be so angry yet look so tasty. His strong, capable hands held the reins in a well-practiced grip, and a burnished curl over his brow made him look like a dashing pirate, ready to climb aboard the nearest ship and ravish a fair maiden.
A warm flush bloomed, and she shuddered.
She couldn’t take her eyes from his strong, handsome profile even when it turned the waves of nervousness in her stomach to birds in flight.
Heat, purposeful and undeniable, rose from her core, blanketing her with a need she’d never known before.
The bright sun was far too warm. Anger and tension rolled off him.
He drove the carriage with care, but from his expression she knew what he really wanted was to tear her a new one.
But for heaven’s sake, she hoped it was her clothes he tore from her instead.
Too hot. Too damn hot.
She tugged at the sleeves of her dress, wishing she were in her room so she could take it off and stop the suffocation.
When the carriage halted in front of the double oak doors of the manor, she tamped the urge to run. Instead, she waited for the duke to make his way to her side.
Holding her breath, she put her hand in his proffered one and quickly descended the single step. Attempting to lay aside the shame of her outrageous reaction in the pasture, she did her best imitation of a curtsey.
“After thinking about it, I know why you’d assume I was making a break for it, and I know I overreacted. I apologize.” Without waiting for his irate response, she straightened and made her way inside as fast as her booted feet could carry her.
Upstairs, she threw her bag on the bed and unzipped it.
Slumping to the mattress, she nibbled her thumbnail. “How do I make this whole afternoon go away? Wait—”
She dumped the contents of the bag and riffled through the mound of clothing and toiletries.
There!
With a whoop of excitement, she snatched up her cellphone and held it to her heart like a talisman.
She tapped the black screen, it blinked on, and she saw what she’d expected.
No signal. She thanked God she’d charged the phone before leaving that day 208 years in the future, and scrolled through the options menu.
She tapped her photo album. Smiling, she clicked through until she came to one of her leaning against her Nissan.
The phone itself was proof enough, but the photo of her and her “electric carriage” would be icing on the cake.
For the first time since arriving in 1817, she was happy. Something finally went her way.
Gathering a few other items from her bag, she wondered where she could find the duke. His study was her best bet.
She couldn’t wait to see the look on his face when she handed him her phone. She’d have to bite her lip to keep from shouting, “I told you so!”
Hell, she’d say it anyway.
Logan looked up from his ledgers at a knock on the door. This day was one event after another, but at least the vicar had rescheduled their meeting. What he wouldn’t give for a glass of brandy, a long ride in the night air, and sleep without those damn dreams.
Those dreams…something familiar on the tip of my memory….
He shook his head to dispel the gathering fog.
“Come.” Perhaps Harry had returned and needed another night of solace in the refreshing haven of Caspire Manor.
Unexpectedly, a face intruded upon his mind. How much of a haven would the sensuous body of Miss Haven Edwards be? Pushing aside the rising heat, he swallowed around the lump in his throat. He stood to greet his friend, but his smile stalled when the door opened.
Speak of the she-devil....
Miss Edwards walked toward his desk, shoulders back, chin out, and a wicked light glimmering in her eyes.
Despite what she’d endured over the last thirty-six hours, she’d thrived and cleaned up rather well.
The blue of her gown looked stunning against her bronze-kissed skin.
It brought out the bright green of her irises, and the dark silken strands of her hair.
The cut emphasized her narrow waist, the abundance of her breasts, and her long legs.
He suppressed a moan. The Romany clothes he’d found her in didn’t do her justice.
She was a beautiful woman.
Beautiful women were dangerous.
“Miss Edwards, how can I help you?” Would she notice how husky he sounded?
She stopped at his desk, planted a hand on the swell of her hip, and held out a small red bag. It had several pockets and a strange metallic lip around a large opening on the top.
She smiled, and it nearly undid him. “Here it is, the proof I need to convince you I’m not crazy.” Thunderstruck, it took him a moment to focus.
Proof? What could she possibly mean? He held his tongue as she rummaged through the bag. Her face shined, relief and excitement evident on every feature. Her eyes, especially, were bright and fiery.
Glorious.
With a look of triumph, she pulled out a tiny black box.
“This is my cell phone. It’s a communications device.
” He must have looked as confused as he felt because she explained, “In 2025, we use this to communicate with people over long distances. I could be in Philadelphia, and you could be here, and I could still talk to you as if you and I were in the same room.”
He fought the overwhelming urge to snatch at the box. The skeptic and realist in him wanted to scoff at her and her silly box, but the curious wonderer hoped she was telling the truth.
Without preamble, she walked around his desk, cell phone in hand, and stood beside him. She tapped the object, and it began to glow. The blood drained from his face, pooling in his Hessians.
What was this thing? Unthinking, he reached forward.
With a brilliant, triumphant expression, she turned the box for his inspection.
He took the cell phone and was surprised by its density. He gasped. Inside was a small window full of colors, moving pictures, and words. He hesitated to touch it, scared that the minute he placed his fingers on it, the pictures would go away, leaving the wonder and awe hollow in his chest.
“Please explain.” Getting any more words past the large dry patch in his throat proved difficult.
She drew up to stand inches from his side. Her chest rose and fell against his arm, which made it difficult to concentrate on the device when he really wanted to explore the woman beside him.
Exhaling to rid his senses of her scent, he focused.
“This little window is called a screen. I use it to navigate through the features on the phone.” As he held it, she touched the screen with her finger.
He couldn’t believe it. Not only were there moving pictures on the screen, but the screen itself moved, bringing entirely different scenes into view. Marvelous.
“When I press here,” she said, indicating a small cube-shaped icon, “I can bring up digital pictures, which are kind of like portraits except they aren’t painted.
They’re recorded using a tiny machine inside the phone.
” She glanced up at him, and grinned. His breath caught.
Her smile transformed her face from sultry vixen to playful minx.
He didn’t know if he liked what the playful minx was doing to his blood flow.
Her eyes flashed with a mixture of surprise and something else. She tensed beside him, and he didn’t have to wonder why. An invisible force radiated between them, he could feel it press against every nerve. Curious, he watched her. Her breath caught, and her throat worked on a difficult swallow.
She felt it, too.
She turned her attention back to the phone. “Uh...I know this is a lot of information to absorb, but I want you to believe I’m from the year 2025.”
Using her index finger, she touched and clicked through screen after screen of colorful images. Seconds later, she stopped and held the device up for him to see.
He looked down at an image of Miss Edwards.
Her clothing was different, she had an air of confidence and humor, and she wore a strange pair of dark spectacles on her face.
He bit back a moan. She was wearing light blue trousers, which encased her long, lithe legs in tight fabric.
Her blouse was held on with only a small bit of string over her shoulders.
He couldn’t wrap his mind around the amount of skin on display, but he didn’t want to look away, her olive-toned flesh an enticement he didn’t want to ignore.
She held the screen closer, and grinned. “See, this is a picture of me taken two weeks ago. That thing behind me is my car.”
He had to admit he hadn’t noticed anything else in the image. He’d been drawn to her. Only her. Glancing at it again, he spotted a large blue object perched on thick black wheels.
Interesting.
He cleared his throat. “Forgive my ignorance, but what is a ‘car’?”
Her lips twitched, and she narrowed her eyes in a silent rejoinder.
His own lips twitched in response. The last thing he needed was this acquaintance getting complicated.
When had their level of familiarity grown to acquaintance in the first place?
From thief to house guest to time traveler to companion.
To lover? Desire, hot and unforgiving, shot through him.
“A car is basically a motorized carriage. Instead of being drawn by horses, it runs under its own power.” Her gaze gauged his response.
“I see.” He didn’t know what else to say. She showed him proof he couldn’t disregard. He’d never witnessed something so ingenious.
He handed her the cell phone and took a seat.
She clutched the device to her chest and sat in the chair opposite.
“If you’d like more proof, I have some other things I can show you. My Kindle library, speakers….” She listed off items with a careless wave of her hand.
Like a knife to his gut he realized she had done the impossible. She’d traveled through time from the future. How was he supposed to ally this knowledge with everything he’d learned about the universe, and the linear aspects of time?
“No further proof is necessary.” Turning the fullness of his gaze on her, he said, “Thank you for showing me this...cell phone. It is a marvelous device.” He forced a smile to his lips and stood, extending his hand for hers.
She stood, hesitating a second before placing her smaller hand in his. Circling the desk to stand before her, he bowed over her hand. He couldn’t help it; he brushed his lips across her knuckles and immediately regretted it. Her skin was warm, smelled of wildflowers, and she trembled.
Fighting back a groan of utter male satisfaction, he released her, and smiled down at her, the perfect host.
The awkward conclusion of their conversation was interrupted by the not-so-surprising appearance of Aunt Mildred dressed for dinner.
Was it time for dinner already?
He glanced at the clock. It was indeed. His interview with Miss Edwards had flown by, her very presence encouraged time traveling in his own study.
“Haven, my dear, if I had known you were with Logan, I would have raced right down to lend my support.” Millie’s concerned expression twisted into one of annoyance.
“You haven’t been provoking the young girl, have you? I’ll not have you pestering her.” She stepped forward, putting her petite body between him and Miss Edwards, her bearing that of a lioness protecting her cub.
Miss Edwards placed her hand on Millie’s shoulder.
“Millie, His Grace was just welcoming me into his household.” She swallowed and jutted her perky little chin.
“I showed him my proof, and now he knows I was telling the truth about being from the future.” She turned the fullness of her mischievous gaze upon him.
“He was just apologizing for treating me so badly.”
She was a bold one.
He threw a look of irritated pride her way but met her fiery challenge. Excitement surfaced, invading his blood. Again, she’d thrown down a gauntlet, and he was hard pressed not to snatch it up with gusto.