An Earl In Time Read online

  “I suppose that makes sense,” he slowly said. “But you feel fine? You’re not sick or in pain or anything?”

  She smiled. “No, I’m not sick, and I’m not in pain. I just feel like a part of me is in a dreamlike state.”

  He still didn’t understand why none of this happened before they married, but there were many things he didn’t understand. He caressed her cheek. “I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you.”

  “You’re not going to lose me. We’re just becoming one. I think the longer we’re together, the stronger our bond will get. I forgot to mention it, but this morning, I noticed a thread that connects us.”

  His eyebrows furrowed. “A thread?”

  “You know how the red and gold colors swirl at the bridge and in the gazebo?”

  Not sure where she was going with this, he offered a hesitant nod.

  “I saw the colors between us when you were talking to the vicar, and I saw it again when you came into the drawing room.” Her eyes lit up in excitement. “Our marriage has made whatever magic we have stronger.”

  “You think we have magic? In us?”

  “I do. It’s why we could only see the fairy when we touched. But that was before. I wonder if we have to touch now that we’re married.”

  He shook his head. He had seen no such thread passing between them, but, if he recalled correctly, he had felt drawn toward her, as if she was pulling him to her. At the time, he had assumed it had been his eagerness to return to her that made him feel that way. Now, however, he wondered if the pull had been motivated by something deeper than desire.

  “I just want you to be all right,” he whispered.

  “I am all right.” She sighed. “I shouldn’t have said anything. All I’ve done is worried you.”

  “I’m glad you did say something. I want to know if something is happening to you.”

  “It’s not bad. I just feel different, like I no longer belong in the future.”

  He studied her. Perhaps, it was as she said. The magic that had brought her here was probably erasing things from her mind that didn’t exist in this time. It made sense. How could she truly belong here if there was the part of her that held on to the future?

  Feeling better, he relaxed. Just so long as nothing but those memories were erased from her mind, there was no need to panic.

  “It’s nice that you care so much about me,” she whispered.

  He lowered his head so he could kiss her.

  The kiss started out brief and gentle, but his body prompted him to keep going. And that was fine with him. He hadn’t come into this bedchamber with the intention of letting her go right to sleep.

  He removed her towel and let it fall to the floor. She wrapped her arms around his neck and parted her lips so that he could explore her mouth. His hands slid up her bare back so he could draw her closer to him. He spent considerable time kissing her. He had been more than a little excited to consummate their marriage last night. It’d gone much faster than he would have preferred, but he had sufficient patience now to take his time savoring this time that he had with her.

  He picked her up and carried her to the bed. He set her on the red covers and took a moment to examine her body. He’d seen art in museums, sunrises and sunsets, and other beautiful things, but she was, by far, the most exquisite thing he’d ever beheld with his eyes. Her damp hair was spread out on the pillow under her head. Her skin, however, was dry, and his gaze traced the length of it. Yes, she was the finest work of art he’d ever seen.

  He removed his clothes then settled next to her. He cupped the side of her face and brought his lips to hers again. She invited him into her mouth, and he accepted the invitation. Tonight, he wouldn’t be in such a rush. He was going to draw this out for as long as both of them could bear it.

  He let his hand drift down her neck and to one of her breasts. His fingers brushed her nipple, and it hardened in response. He traced the edge of it before letting his thumb caress the center of it. She let out a soft moan. Since she liked that, he brought his hand to her other breast and explored it with the same care he had with the first one.

  After some time, he let his hand slide down her body until it reached the patch of curls between her legs. She parted her legs and lifted her hips to encourage him to bring his hand lower. He did, but he resisted the urge to slide his fingers into her. Instead, he traced the folds of her flesh. She was wet. She was ready for him. But still, he didn’t want to rush this, so he continued to tease her by letting his fingertips slip into her and then went back to tracing her flesh.

  Her fingers dug into his shoulders, and she let out a frustrated cry. Maybe it was wicked, but he still refused to go into her. With a grin, he kissed her neck and then brought his head to one of her breasts. He brushed his tongue across her nipple and then brought it into his mouth and suckled lightly on it.

  “Julian, you’re going to drive me mad,” she whispered as she wiggled her hips closer to him.

  He supposed he had teased her long enough. Deciding he’d satisfy the poor lady, he slid two fingers into her. She let out a sigh that was a blend of relief and demanding need. He stroked her core in an effort to keep that need mounting, and the method worked. She began to rock her hips against him, and she began moaning in a way that let him know she was fully aroused.

  He shifted so that he was kneeling in front of her and brought his tongue to her sensitive nub. She sharply inhaled and wrapped her legs around his shoulders. He resumed his stroking, seeking how he might best bring her to completion.

  When she reached her peak, she cried out his name. He slowed his ministrations while her flesh clenched and unclenched around his fingers. When her body relaxed, he knew she was satisfied.

  He removed his fingers from her and moved so that he was on top of her. He took a moment to study her face. He didn’t know how it was possible, but the more he looked at her, the more beautiful she became, and he had thought she’d been one of the loveliest ladies he’d ever seen when they met.

  He gave her a lingering kiss before he entered her. He groaned. It seemed there would always be that initial surge of pleasure upon entering her. He had thought he had only been experiencing it because this activity was still new to him, but despite being together as often as they had, it hadn’t diminished. It was still as wonderful as it’d been the first time he had made love to her.

  She wrapped her legs around his waist and pulled him deeper into her. The rest of the world slipped away as he made love to her in earnest. All he could do was give into the need to be consumed by her. The momentum of his thrusting grew more insistent as his passion rose to its peak. Then his body burst with pleasure, and he cried out to her. He grew taut as he filled her with his seed. When the intensity of his orgasm ebbed, he collapsed in her arms.

  Reluctant to part from her, he spent considerable time kissing her. “I’ll never love anyone but you,” he whispered and then kissed her cheek.

  “You’re the only one I want,” she whispered in return and then yawned.

  Considering how little sleep they’d had for quite some time, he didn’t blame her for being tired even though it wasn’t even ten. He felt tired as well. He got off of her and helped her under the blankets and tucked them around them both so that they were comfortable. Then he drew her into his arms and closed his eyes.

  Tonight, he didn’t worry he might wake up to find he was stuck back in June 17 all over again. He just knew that when he woke up, he would be with her and that time would still be moving forward. With a smile, he drifted off to sleep.

  ***

  Julian’s dreams that night came as a series of memories he’d long ago forgotten. These were all memories of his life as it had been before that fateful day he woke up on June 17. Little details time had erased came rushing back to him.

  He recalled with clarity how he’d grown up at this estate tending to his studies with the instructor his parents had hired. He recalled learning to ride a horse. He recalled there ha
d once been a dog that he had spent hours playing with. He recalled that Francis and his parents came for visits before Phillip was born. He recalled how his parents hosted a few dinner parties and balls, though they were nothing as elaborate as what one would find in London.

  He also remembered that once in a while his mother would mention the duel. “Your father was foolish to do it,” she would mutter under her breath when she thought his father wasn’t listening.

  One time, when Julian was twelve, his father heard her. “It wasn’t something I wanted to do,” his father replied. “It was something I had to do.”

  “Why? What did it accomplish?” she asked.

  “Protection,” he replied with tears in his eyes. Then he left the room before either one of them could see him cry.

  “He always says that, but it means nothing since there’s nothing we need protection from,” she told Julian.

  And that was the last he heard about it.

  When Julian became an adult, he decided it was time to leave the estate. Julian’s father argued with him that he must stay, but Julian wasn’t willing to do that, not after he had wasted his whole life here.

  “I’m a grown gentleman,” Julian said. “I have to leave sometime.”

  “But it’s not safe,” his father argued.

  Julian laughed. “Why not?”

  His father hesitated for a long moment but finally said, “You wouldn’t believe me. Your mother never believed me. She almost had me committed to an asylum. I had to stop talking about it so that I could stay here to watch over you.”

  “And you did that,” Julian said. “I appreciate everything you’ve done, but I have to grow up and leave at some point. I can’t be a child forever. I need to make my way in the world. I’m going to leave, and there’s nothing you can do about it.”

  He didn’t know if his mother chose to go with him because she was tired of being stuck on the property or if his father wished for her to keep watch over him. All he knew was that as he and his mother passed over the bridge, she said, “It’s nothing but superstition for your father to think he can’t leave this estate. He’s been like that since your grandfather died.”

  Julian and his mother stayed with Francis’ family in London for a few months before he found a townhouse to rent. After being away for a year, his mother said she missed his father and returned to the estate to be with him.

  Julian, however, never wanted to return to live there. He would stop in once a year to spend a few weeks there, but he always returned to London.

  Julian and Francis became good friends over the years. They went almost everywhere together. They would go to balls and see which ladies were in their Seasons. Julian enjoyed talking and dancing with ladies, but his interest didn’t go beyond that. Francis, however, was looking for a wife.

  “I don’t know why you’re in such a hurry to marry,” Julian told Francis one time. “We don’t have to seriously consider anyone for marriage until we’re in our thirties or forties.”

  “You shouldn’t wait that long,” Francis replied. “Half of your life will be over. You should enjoy love while you’re young enough to fully enjoy it.”

  Julian just laughed off his friend’s words as silly romantic thinking. His mind wasn’t on marriage. It was on seeing the world. But he had to have money to travel. He entered a lot of wagers. Sometimes he made money, and at other times, he lost it, but for the most part, he made enough to make up for the amount he lost. In the end, he only got to visit Italy and Sweden. His mother had died while he was in Sweden. He didn’t get his father’s missive until a month after the fact.

  He was ready to return to the estate to visit her grave when his father sent another missive imploring him to stay in London. As much as I want to see you, you must not come. It is better for your sake if you never return to Nightingale Hall, his father had written.

  He spent the next month debating whether he should obey his father or not. Then he received word that his father had died. That prompted him to make arrangements to return to the estate.

  “You need to invest some of your money before you leave,” Francis told him. “I keep telling you that you need to think of the future.”

  “I can’t think about that right now,” Julian replied. “I have to bury my father and see what condition the estate is in.”

  “Let me take care of the investments for you then,” Francis said. “I’ve already made a substantial sum of money. You told me you wished you hadn’t wasted so much on those wagers. I can help you make up for that. You need something to leave your heirs.”

  Francis was right. Julian had just turned twenty-eight. It was time he started taking things seriously. “All right. I’ll give you what I have, and you can invest it.”

  “You won’t be sorry,” Francis promised him. “You’re going to end up with more than enough for generations to come.”

  “I don’t know what you’re more excited about,” Julian teased him as he gave his cousin the money. “Marrying Lady Kimberly or investing my money. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you plan to use my money to elope with her.”

  Francis laughed at his joke.

  That was the last time Julian spoke to him.

  Julian returned to the estate. The day was overcast but not raining. He summoned the vicar, buried his father next to his mother, thinking that, despite the fact that they didn’t always get along, they must have loved each other. Once his mother returned to the estate, she never left again, and his father didn’t live long after her death.

  Julian paid the vicar and thanked him for coming. Then he went to the library to check the financial accounts of the estate.

  The missive came around ten that evening. The rain had just started as the footman handed it to him.

  “Who gave you this?” Julian asked when he didn’t recognize the seal.

  “A man I’ve never seen before, my lord,” the footman replied.

  “He didn’t identify himself?”

  “No. He had bright green eyes, but that’s the only discerning feature I noticed about him.”

  Noting how late it was, Julian asked, “Does he need to stay here for the night?”

  “He’s already gone. He left with two other men.”

  Julian frowned. “There were three men in all to deliver one missive?”

  The footman shrugged. “I don’t know what to tell you. They’re already gone.”

  Despite the strangeness of it, Julian relieved the footman of his duties for the night. He set the missive aside and went back to the ledger. It wasn’t until an hour later that he read the missive.

  He took the missive seriously until he got to the line about being forced to live the same day over and over once the clock struck midnight. At that point, Julian rolled his eyes, went to the fireplace, and threw the missive into the flames of the fire.

  It was someone’s idea of a joke. Someone who had nothing better to do had sent something meant to scare him. It was to his benefit he didn’t give into such nonsense.

  He picked up the candle on the desk and went up to his bedchamber to go to bed for the night.

  And then… And then…

  Julian opened his eyes. He was wrapped up with Willow in a red blanket. It was dawn. Sunlight was just beginning to come in through the windows. The tub was still full of cold water. Two of the four candles were still lit, though most of the wax had melted during the night.

  Julian focused. He knew he had spent two centuries stuck in the same day. That missive had not been a joke. Violet had meant what she wrote. There was a curse hovering over this place. And those three men the footman had seen…

  They had to be the cat, owl, and horse that Violet had transformed into men. The night he received that missive must have been the night they became men. And then they left the property to join her.

  Julian was beginning to understand what Willow had meant about her memories being removed and how aspects of her past seemed like a dream. After two centuries of l
iving out the same day, his past had become a blur, and at times, that part of his life had been more like a dream than a reality. Except, this morning, all of those memories from his life were easy to remember. The past two centuries of being stuck in June 17, however, were starting to blur together. Surprisingly, those two centuries were beginning to feel like they had never happened.

  It had to be something in the magic on this property. And that meant Willow was not going to suffer some malady. She really was going to be all right. They were experiencing similar things but in different ways. As Willow had said, this was how their timelines were meant to line up and merge together.

  His gaze went to her. She was in deep sleep, but she looked fine. Her cheeks were full of color. She looked at peace. He lowered his head and kissed her. As much as he wanted to stay with her, he needed to get back to his grandfather’s journals. There had been a duel that had taken place between his father and his uncle before he was born. His father had said he’d killed his brother to protect everyone. Maybe his father had been telling the truth. Maybe he hadn’t been foolish. Maybe it had been necessary. Whatever the case, it was obvious it had cast a dark shadow over his life. He’d never gotten over it. He had probably lived with regret every day of his life over what he’d done.

  And perhaps his father was unable to leave here. Maybe magic had been binding him to this place, and while Julian and his mother had been able to cross the bridge, maybe he couldn’t. Only he didn’t tell anyone about it. Just as Julian hadn’t told the servants what was happening to him. Who would believe such lunacy?

  The more Julian thought about it, the more convinced he was that his father hadn’t been superstitious like his mother assumed. He had a real basis for what he thought and did. His father had been scared for him. He’d been afraid if he went to London, then he wouldn’t be able to watch over him, and when Julian asked him why, he’d said, “You wouldn’t believe me. Your mother never believed me. She almost had me committed to an asylum. I had to stop talking about it so that I could stay here to watch over you.”