Chapter 2
The next morning, with her feet tucked beneath her, Reese leaned back in the overstuffed chair by the fire and watched the flames dance in their room’s sitting area. Being here by choice was a much more enjoyable experience than being kidnapped by the magic.
Time travel did have some advantages, though.
Because they could only travel on the full moon, it required them to stay four weeks, yet they could return to their own time just moments after they left.
While they would be gone for nearly a month, she and Jem only had to use a few days of their vacation time.
As it had more than once this morning, she found her gaze drawn to the painting of Beatrice.
The unsettled feeling had even intruded into Reese’s dreams. She prided herself on being practical and not prone to imagining things, which was kind of ironic, since she was sitting in the home of a Fae guardian of magic that rested on a ley line.
Reese did chuckle then. Perhaps a little whimsy wasn’t out of place.
“What are you laughing about?” Jem asked as he tried to squeeze himself beside her in the chair.
When he didn’t fit, he lifted her, slid underneath, and settled her on his lap.
Being taller than most women, and even some men, it still gave Reese a thrill when Jem treated her like she were small and delicate.
Once they were settled, she told him her musings. “I keep feeling like I do when we’re watching a scary movie, and even though I know something’s going to pop out, I’ll still jump when it happens.”
“What, you think a woman who disappeared decades ago is going to come out of the picture and attack you?” Jem shifted to look at her, his tone teasing but with a touch of concern.
“Not attack, but...” It was hard to put into words. “There’s something about that painting, and Nellie not knowing what happened to her kind of creeps me out.” Shivering despite their closeness to the fireplace, Reese rubbed her arms.
Jem pulled the blanket over her legs again, gently tucking it around her. “It is unusual that Nellie, who seems to know everything, doesn’t understand what’s going on either.”
“That’s true, but did you catch what she said?” Reese stared at the portrait. “She painted Beatrice as a young woman, but in the painting she’s much older. Paintings don’t age.”
“That we know of. Look, I don’t know what to say,” Jem said, holding up his hands as though in surrender. “But I’ve learned to trust Nellie. Whatever happened in this time didn’t worry her in our time.”
For the first time since seeing the portrait, Reese relaxed. “She can be enigmatic, but she’s also never put any of us in danger. But that doesn’t mean there’s not a mystery here that involves us.”
“True enough, so let’s talk it through.” Jem gave her neck a gentle kiss.
Reese laughed. “You, sir, are trying to distract me.”
“Is that a problem?” He nibbled on her ear, making her shiver again, but in a good way.
It would be easy to let him, but she couldn’t help glancing at the painting again. “Only if she doesn’t actually need our help.”
“Sweetheart, she disappeared a long time ago,” Jem said softly. “Normally, I would call that a flight of fancy, but...”
“But this is Twickenham Manor.”
“Exactly.” Jem nodded, also studying the portrait. “So, you think this woman who disappeared decades ago is trying to communicate with you through the painting?”
“Ugh. It sounds stupid when you say it like that.” Reese frowned, frustrated by the growing disquiet.
“Maybe it could just be the magic here, or maybe I’m suffering some kind of weird jet lag.
But I feel connected to her somehow. Her eyes don’t move in the picture, but it feels like she’s looking at me anyway. Am I going crazy?”
“Hey, stop that right now.” Jem slid out from under her and knelt in front of the chair, taking her hands. “You’re the sanest person I know. You’re right about the magic because... Twickenham! It’s part of the adventure.”
“True on all counts, and Nellie said we would have a lovely trip.”
“Exactly. We can the Nellie from our time because she would know. So, it’s smart to pay attention in case the magic does have plans for us here. But most of all, you have been looking forward to a real Victorian Christmas for months.”
“I have,” Reese admitted, leaning forward to kiss him. “I just don’t remember feeling like the house itself was keeping secrets.”
“We’ll be in this time for a month,” Jem said, standing to offer his hand to her. “There will be plenty of time to talk to Aunt Nellie about this Beatrice woman. In the meantime, we have friends waiting for us at Kellworth.”
Reese accepted his hand and let him pull her to her feet.
At a knock on the door, Jem called out, “Come in.”
A smiling Aunt Nellie peeked her head around the door. “I wanted to let you know the Kellworth carriage has arrived for you.”
“Thank you.” Reese smiled back, though she shot a glance at the portrait. “If Beatrice was a relative of Gareth and Ellen’s, why have you never given the portrait to them?”
Nellie’s gaze softened, as if she had been waiting for the question. “Because I didn’t wish to cause them pain. Beatrice is their great-aunt, sister to Evangeline.”
Reese leaned closer to say, “Isn’t Evangeline the one living in the dower house, the one Catherine and Ellen have been working to get healthy?”
“One and the same.” Nellie opened the door fully. “As you will soon see, but you must make haste, as I expect snow to fall soon.” She turned as if to leave, but Reese wasn’t ready to let her go just yet.
“May I take Beatrice’s portrait with me to Kellworth?” she asked.
Nellie’s lips curled into that familiar, knowing smile that Reese both loved and dreaded. “Yes, my dear Clarisse, I believe the time is right, finally. Now, truly, you must make haste.” And she was gone.
“She’s totally up to something.” Reese shook her head, hating to feel like a pawn. “But taking it to Kellworth feels right.”
“I agree, but you have to promise me you’ll focus on having fun,” Jem said, already reaching for the portrait.
“I promise. Though you know I enjoy a good mystery too.”
“That’s my girl.”
Jem set the painting down and helped Reese into the heavy cape Nellie had provided for their stay. After slipping on his own period overcoat, he picked up the portrait again.
“You’re going home to your family,” Reese whispered to the woman in the painting.
“Now that’s a little creepy,” Jem teased.
Reese pulled a face. “It’s only creepy because we don’t know what’s going on yet.”
“Wow, I forgot how breathtaking it is,” Reese breathed as the drive to Kellworth Manor came into view. The towering stone walls rose from the snow-covered landscape, and the crisp winter air, heavy with the promise of more snow, only added to the excitement of the holiday season.
“There’s another coach up ahead,” Jem said, leaning closer to the carriage window.
Reese scooted over to see better, resting her chin on his shoulder. The stopped coach was smaller than theirs, plain and severe. It kind of reminded her of the ghost carriage from a version of A Christmas Carol she’d seen.
Then she noticed the iron bars crossing its rear window. A man sat inside, his head bent, shoulders hunched into his coat as if he were trying to fold himself smaller against the cold. He shifted to brush a hand across his forehead, exposing that he was chained.
“Ah,” Reese whispered.
“It must be a prison transport,” Jem murmured.
The man lifted his head then and met her gaze, exhaustion heavy in his thin face. A flash of what looked like shame was followed by bleak desperation that tore at Reese. It reminded her of the faces of the earl’s cottiers when she had first seen them.
As the driver urged their horses forward, the connection broke. Their carriage moved past the prison coach, the view of which was swallowed by the curve of the road and a snow-covered hedge.
Reese leaned back in her seat, unsettled. She had helped the cottiers, but she couldn’t help everyone. Besides, who knew what the man had done to end up there? Jem covered her hand with his, seeming to sense her unease.
Finally, they pulled up to the front of the manor, and a watchful footman hurried down the steps to open the carriage door. As he offered her a hand down, the grand front door burst open to show Ellen, trying to push past the butler.
“I daresay it will be impossible to stand on ceremony,” Gareth called, grinning at his younger sister’s antics.
“Heavens, yes, when dear friends have arrived!” Ellen darted past the poor butler, who wore a bemused expression at her unladylike enthusiasm.
Feeling only a little guilty about her influence on the Victorian lady during her first visit, Reese lifted her skirts, preparing to run toward her friend. Jem caught her hand. “Don’t let these heavier clothes trip you on the icy stones.” He guided her to take his arm.
It was a good thing he did. Ellen had reached them and threw her arms around Reese’s neck, nearly taking the three of them to the ground.
“Oh, Clarisse, I have missed you so much!” Ellen’s voice was tight with emotion, her embrace fierce. “I need your help with Grandmama. She just does not understand the exercises. I must be teaching her incorrectly.”
Reese laughed, hugging her back. “But don’t Catherine and Michael know enough to help?”
Ellen pulled back, scrunching her nose. “Yes, but they believe it is good for me to do the instructing.” Her entire manner was so much more relaxed than it had been when she and Reese first met. Also, having a husband and a sister-in-law from the future doubtless also helped.
“It’s freezing out here!” a tall, dark-haired man called as he descended the steps. Reese recognized him from his portrait at Twickenham: Michael Addington, Ellen’s husband.
“Thank you!” Jem agreed, ushering Reese and Ellen inside. “You must be Michael. I’m Jem Taylor, and this is my wife, Reese.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you both at last.”
As they stepped into the warmth of Kellworth Manor, Reese’s heart swelled as a true Victorian Christmas unfolded before her. The soft glow of candlelight flickered against the polished wooden floors, and evergreen garlands adorned the banisters, filling the air with the scent of pine.
Once the servants had taken their cloaks, Gareth led them into the front parlor and closed the door behind them. His regal bearing matched his role as earl and host, but his eyes crinkled as he bowed over Reese’s hand and kissed her knuckles.
“I trust, Clarisse—Reese—” He shot Jem a sly glance. “that your husband has not been remiss in his responsibility to make you happy.”
“So very happy.” Reese winked at her husband, remembering very well the threat Gareth had given Jem when they had departed at the end of their first trip. She caught sight of Catherine entering the room and added, “And I hope you’re doing the same for your wife, my lord.”
Gareth chuckled, turning to offer his arm to Catherine. “My dear, you remember Reese and Jamison Taylor.”
“Doctor,” Jem said, extending his hand. “Or should I say, Lady Catherine?”
“Who would have known when we danced at Aunt Nellie’s ball,” Catherine said with a grin, “that we would both end up traveling through time?”
Reese compared this radiant woman to the conflicted one she’d first met. Reaching across Jem, Reese gave her a quick hug. “Congratulations on the twins!”
“Thank you!” Catherine beamed. “They’re so much fun.”
“I must warn you, however,” Gareth said, glancing toward the door. “None of our servants know about the time travel, nor do Grandmama or Colonel Pritchard.”
Reese nodded. She understood the need for discretion. Before she could reply, a sudden wave of dizziness hit her, and she swayed. As she steadied herself, she pressed a hand to her forehead.
“Are you unwell?” Ellen asked, full of concern.
Reese forced a weak smile. “I’m just a little dizzy. The trip took more out of me than usual.”
Catherine frowned, her doctor’s curiosity apparently kicking in. “Didn’t Nellie’s tea help?”
“At first, but I still feel queasy sometimes.”
Taking Reese’s wrist, Catherine checked her pulse. “When was your last cycle?”
Reese blinked; her jet-lagged brain was a little slow. “I’m not sure... I left my phone in my luggage.”
Catherine’s eyes brightened. “Are your breasts tender?”
Gareth coughed, and Ellen gave an embarrassed giggle.
But Reese’s breath caught, understanding what the doctor was implying. Nodding again, feeling a little numb, she glanced at Jem.
He wore a silly grin and pulled her in for a hug, asking too loudly, “Are we having a baby?”
Ellen gasped, her hands flying to her chest. “Could it be true? Are you increasing too?”
Catherine raised an arm. “I’ll send for a pregnancy test. I brought a supply back with me. In the meantime, avoid alcohol, unpasteurized milk, and any herbal teas with unknown ingredients. They use some questionable ingredients in this time.”
“You must rest, dear Clarisse.” Ellen’s eyes sparkled with excitement. “Come. I will show you to your room.”
“That actually sounds wonderful,” Reese said, exhaustion washing over her.
“I’ll come with you,” Jem offered.
Reese shook her head and kissed him. “Stay. You haven’t had a chance to talk with Michael and Gareth yet, and Ellen and I have some catching up to do.” She gave him a tired smile. “I hope I’ll feel better by dinner.” She let Ellen lead her toward their guest suite.
As they walked, Reese couldn’t decide whether to laugh or cry, so she did neither, just pressed a hand to her abdomen and tried to breathe. She and Jem hadn’t planned to start their family yet, but the idea of a new life growing inside her, their baby, made her eyes burn.
Entering the bedroom, her gaze fell on the portrait of Beatrice lying on the bed. Once again, the haunted expression in the woman’s eyes drew Reese in.
Peering at it, Ellen asked, “Is this one of Aunt Nellie’s paintings?”
“Yes,” Reese whispered. “Do you recognize her?”
“She looks familiar,” Ellen said with a frown, “but I cannot place where I have seen her.”
Reese was about to explain the family connection, but paused. Something told her to wait. Maybe Evangeline should see it first.