She swallowed and shrugged, feeling bad all over again for neglecting Ashford while he traveled between their estates. “It’s so busy in London,” she said lamely.
Kostya and Serena joined them, along with another tray loaded with food. Tilly had to force a smile as Jeremy asked how Ariana’s first season went.
“She’s not married yet,” Ashford butted in, all but spraying crumbs around his hurried answer. Tilly exchanged a look with Serena and Kostya, but before either of them could say anything, Ashford barreled on. “How are the girls? I hear you’re to be an uncle again soon? That’s wonderful news. Have you heard from Nick in Italy lately?”
Tilly choked on her tea. What was he doing? This wasn’t casual at all. Kostya tried to change the subject, but the words quickly died in his throat when they all noticed Jeremy’s sudden pallor. He’d gone absolutely stark white. His hand shook and his teacup clattered to the floor. Serena bent to pick it up but stopped, also alarmed at the look on his face.
“Wh-what’s that about Nick?” he asked, having to clear his throat several times to get all the words out. “You’ve heard he’s in Italy? Where? Who told you this? When?”
Of course Ashford had nothing to say to those questions. Tilly fumbled for an explanation.
“He’s not in Italy any longer?” she asked, feeling cold all over.
“But when was he in Italy?” Jeremy leaned forward. “Tell me what you know. If you’ve got some information after all these years, I must hear it at once.”
A deafening silence fell over the room. After what seemed like a year of it, Serena picked up the fallen cup and pressed a towel to the stain. Horrified beyond comprehension at Jeremy’s response, Tilly nudged Ashford in the ribs with her elbow. Hard.
“I’m terribly sorry,” Ashford said, looking at her as if he might be ill. She knew the feeling. “I haven’t heard anything new at all. It’s only… didn’t he go to Italy? To follow an investment scheme?”
It was all Tilly could do to keep from putting her head between her knees. Nick was never Jeremy’s favorite topic. He’d run up a lot of debts before she and Ashford tempted him out of the country with the investment they secretly set up. As far as they knew, he’d remained overseas throughout the past eighteen years, occasionally sending trinkets to his sisters or a bottle of wine to Jeremy, but never returning to England or taking care of his debts. As much as it soured the conversation to bring him up, Jeremy always knew his general whereabouts. If he didn’t now, it could only mean…
She couldn’t keep a moan from escaping. Ashford gripped her hand, still stammering apologies and explanations to Jeremy. It was as if she’d fallen down a bottomless pit. Even though she could feel herself sitting on the lumpy brocade chair, all her other senses reeled. Unable to keep herself together, she bolted from the room, dragging Ashford along with her.
“Bloody hell, what’s come over them?” she heard Jeremy say as she fled. Serena said something to soothe him but she was too far down her tunnel of terror to hear anything more.
Ashford stopped her from blindly careening down the hallway and pressed her against the wall to keep her from falling over. “It doesn’t mean anything,” he said.
“You don’t believe that,” she said, barely able to push the words past whatever was constricting her throat. She wanted to dissolve into a puddle of tears, but what good would it do? “Nick’s missing. He’s been missing since we sent him away, but now he’s not where he should be. Which means—”
“It doesn’t mean anything,” he repeated, pulling her raggedly against him. “Breathe, my love. You’re making yourself ill.” He pressed his face into her hair. “I promise you, I will fix this. Now we’re here, we can get a spell to work. I’ll find her. I promise.”
She closed her eyes and let his endless babbling soothe her. How she wanted to believe him. He’d never let her down before, not really. But nothing had ever been this important before. Even when she thought she was lost forever in time and might never see him again. If he’d never found her, they never would have had Ariana and she never would have felt this bone shattering fear and anguish.
“I need to see the boys,” she gasped. She had to hug her children, her remaining children, and make sure they were all right. Make sure she hadn’t somehow lost them as well.
“Of course,” he answered, sweeping her into his arms and carrying her toward the stairs.
Halfway up, she felt silly and asked him to put her down. He shook his head and held her tighter. “I rather like the feel of you right now,” he said.
He was as upset as she was, only handling it much better. Still, she had to admit, as ashamed as she was by her shrinking violet behavior, she was glad to settle in against his chest.
In the playroom, he set her back on her feet and the boys rushed her, nearly knocking her over. She let them dance around her like eager pups, their grubby hands and loud voices a balm to her soul. Ashford shooed away the servant who’d been given the unenviable position to watch over them while Farrah was away.
“Let your mother breathe, lads,” Ashford called over their din.
Nathan peeled his skinny arms from around her neck but she grabbed him back, squeezing him until he squeaked.
“Are you enjoying yourselves?” she asked, hoping her voice didn’t sound strained.
“Yes!” they chorused. “We don’t ever want to go back to London.”
“Never go back to London?” She looked to Ashford, who gazed fondly at his sons. “Did you hear that, Da? These scoundrels never want to go back home.”
Red creeped up Ashford’s neck and he tugged at his collar. “Ah, well. About that,” he said as the boys went back to their game. “We still need to talk about that.”
Chapter 13
“What happened? Wh-what happened?”
Ariana was a stammering mess, repeating the same thing over and over as she stared at the glass and cement monstrosity that should have been her home. Dexter couldn’t speak, afraid he’d degrade into terrified babbling as well. What had happened? He’d left Belmary House the night before with Ariana in tow and now his place of employment was a posh shopping mall. He saw it with his own eyes but couldn’t seem to make his brain believe it. Was he out of a job?
He choked out a laugh at that odd, selfish thought and it instantly died in his throat. Where was Tilly? And the boys? And Ashford? What had become of them? He found he was gripping the steering wheel and peeled his fingers off one by one. He reached over and put his hand on Ariana’s arm. Her hysterical questions stopped as if he’d pressed a mute button. She took a deep breath and held it until he shook her arm.
“Ariana, take a breath.”
She sucked in a ragged gasp and turned to face him “Where’s my mum and dad and brothers? Did everything change?”
The last question hit him like a blow from a sledge hammer straight to his chest. Did everything change? Everything? If he no longer worked at Belmary House, that meant Emma didn’t either. Did she know who he was?
Certainly. She must. He tried to calm himself and concentrate on Ariana’s fears. He was a father— a step-father but wasn’t that the same? And he was going to be a father soon enough. He had to stop thinking about himself and concentrate on the devastated teenager next to him, fearful she’d lost everything.
“Are you sure you’re in the right place?” she asked for the tenth time. Instead of nodding or snapping an affirmative, he pointed to the far end of the parking lot.
“Look. That’s the old wall that used to surround your fruit orchard, isn’t it? They must have saved it for some reason.” It looked like the same upscale neighborhood was on the other side of the wall. That hadn’t changed, at least.
“But what happened? What happened to the house?”
“I don’t know.” He started to get out of the car but was suddenly afraid. Maybe if they went home they could start again and everything would right itself by the time they returned.
“Will Emma know?” She
sounded small and far away. He prayed she wasn’t going into shock. Was he going into shock?
The sledgehammer hit him again. He took a deep, slow breath to ease the pain in his chest. Would Emma know him? He reminded himself that of course she would. They’d been through a lot together. This change couldn’t have erased their time together thirteen years ago when she’d been transported back to his time.
Except that it could have. It all depended on the house. The house was why she’d gone back in the first place. What if she didn’t remember him, because she’d never met him. What about the child they were having? Was the unborn baby gone as well? Never existed except in his mind. Memories that were no longer real because they’d never existed.
He shoved his way out of the car and stumbled a few feet away, trying to catch his breath. Ariana couldn’t get out her side so she scrambled over the seat and caught him by the arm before he crashed face first onto the ground.
“Emma,” he gasped. She had to know him. Their life couldn’t have been ripped from him. He almost recoiled from Ariana. This was all her doing.
“Let’s find her,” she said. “She may know what happened, but if she doesn’t, she’ll be as confused as we are.”
He was surprised by her sudden composure and realized she must be worried enough about him to put aside her own fears, which meant he must be acting quite alarming. He pulled himself together, as much as he could, and straightened up.
“She’ll be getting off at the bus stop at the corner,” he said, pointing toward the old wall. “No, she wanted to make sure Dahlia got to school, so she’ll have gone with her.” He smiled wryly. Dahlia would have hated that. Emma would have gotten off at that stop with their wayward daughter and watched her walk into the school building. Then she would have come to work as usual. “The Underground is closer from that direction. This way, it’s about a block away. If it’s still there.”
“Will no one look at me oddly in this attire?” She held up the sides of her skirts.
He opened his mouth to say people from the museum often dressed up in period clothing and walked around the area, trying to attract tourists. But the museum was no longer there.
He shrugged. “It’s London. No one will care. That’s the least of our worries, anyway. We have to find Emma, that’s most important right now.”
“Can you call her on your device?”
He looked at her dully for a moment, wondering why he hadn’t thought of that before. Was he afraid she would no longer be his first contact? He tried to hide his fear and clicked on his phone. He breathed a massive sigh to see she was still there, her smiling face filling his screen as he pressed the call button.
It went to a generic voicemail box. He never left her a voicemail because she hated them, but he was almost certain she had changed it to a personalized message when she got her new phone that past Christmas. Shaking, he ended the call and sent her a text message telling her to call him right away. She would. If she got the message. If she knew who he was.
“Let’s just go meet her, then.” Ariana took his hand and even though he was the one who knew the way, it felt like she was leading him.
She smiled at him encouragingly and in that moment he stopped feeling any bitterness toward her. She was Tilly’s daughter after all, as headstrong and curious as Tilly, but with a whole different set of baggage from her upbringing. He couldn’t blame her for this any more than he could blame Tilly for starting the whole of it all those years ago.
They stopped at the Tube entrance and stood by a light post. He fumbled with his phone for the schedule and saw that it should arrive in four minutes. Ariana kept a tight grip on his hand as he waited breathlessly. His mind couldn’t settle on any one thought. He could only abstractly pray that she would recognize him when she came out. If she came out. If she didn’t work at Belmary House anymore, there would be no reason for her to take this train. After an eternity, people started spilling from the stairway onto the sidewalk. Soon the crowd petered out and all was quiet again. No Emma.
“Four more minutes,” he said through gritted teeth.
She stared blankly at the stairs, probably too full of her own fear to ask about the workings of the Underground. Her lips moved slightly and he wondered if she was counting to herself.
“There.” Ariana pointed after four more interminable minutes passed. “Emma,” she called, pulling her hand out of Dexter’s and hurrying through the crowd of harried morning commuters.
To his surprise, she flung herself into Emma’s arms. Emma patted her back warily, searching over the heads of strangers. When she settled her eyes on him and he saw the spark of recognition, the slightly confused but happy smile, he found tears leaking out of his eyes. The relief was like a hot shower at the end of an icy, winter slog to the store and back. He realized he’d been holding his breath and his nose and fingers tingled after the deep, gusty breath he took.
“What’s this welcoming committee for?” Emma asked as Ariana dragged her to him. He’d been frozen to the spot until he heard her voice. He pulled her close and wrapped her in a suffocating hug, trying not to sob like a baby.
“I love you,” he gasped. “I love you so much. God, I’m so glad you know me.”
She pulled away, starting to look alarmed. “Well, I’m glad I know you, too.”
“We thought everything changed,” Ariana said. “But you’re still the same, so maybe…” Now that the grownups were sorted, he could tell she was about to slip back into her earlier hysteria.
“What are you on about? What’s changed?” Emma looked to him and slowly reached to wipe away a lone tear that had escaped onto his cheek. “Dear God, what’s going on?”
“Come with us.” He took one of her hands in his and Ariana grabbed his free hand. The poor girl seemed to think he might disappear at any moment. Which, now that he could think more clearly, didn’t seem such an outlandish fear. “You won’t believe it unless you see it.”
They hurried along until they came to the parking lot, which had a few more cars in it, probably mall workers. It was still too early for the shops to open and for some reason he was glad. It would have made him sick to see the place crawling with shoppers. He pointed wordlessly at what should have been Ariana’s childhood home. Emma blinked rapidly and turned in a circle. She started to ask questions several times but clamped her mouth closed around them. Finally she scrubbed at her face with the backs of her hands.
“This is what changed.” She pressed her knuckles into her eyes. “They finally managed to turn it into a shopping center. But why? And how?”
“What do you mean, finally?” Ariana demanded.
“Developers have been trying to get their mitts on Belmary House for years. It’s a prime spot. And it never gained that much popularity as a museum.”
Dexter knew her academic way of speaking was her way of coping with the sudden trauma of seeing her livelihood ripped out from under her. While she held no particular love of the house, she loved her job and took pride in helping to keep history alive.
“But how did it become a museum?” Ariana was back to sounding small and distant. “What happened to my family?”
“Oh, goodness.” Emma shook herself out of her shock and hugged Ariana tight. “The last member of your family to hold the Earl of Ashford title and actually live there was back in the 1980s. He was… rather a scoundrel. Er, art forgery was one of his more genteel hobbies, but he did commit some actual heinous crimes. He hied off to Amsterdam where he… met an unfortunate end before he could be prosecuted. The house was taken over by the government to pay off some of that Earl’s debts to society. It eventually fell into disrepair but has been run by a privately funded historical society for about fifteen years.”
Dexter had heard various tour guides say these exact words hundreds of times, but it was only now that it hit him that the art forging scoundrel had been one of Ariana’s family. He always considered Tilly to be an innocent bystander in the unfortunate Alexander line
age, but now he realized she’d played her part.
“A scoundrel who committed heinous crimes?” Ariana asked. “The one in 1889 is horrid as well. Drunk all the time and the servants are fearful of him. Why are they so awful? Wouldn’t he be Christian’s great-grandson? Christian’s a bit annoying but he’s not bad, not deep down. Why are his descendents so terrible?”
“We’ve never been able to trace a proper family tree or pin down any actual history on your lot after 1814 up until the mid twentieth century. I always theorized it was because your mum was actively changing things that might have happened before she ended up there. Maybe your brother never ended up with the title,” Dexter said.
Emma took her arm to keep her upright. He instantly wished he could take the words back when Ariana swayed on her feet. Here she was not knowing what had become of everyone in her family and he was thoughtlessly insinuating they might no longer exist in her time.
“I have to go back. I must go right now.” She jerked her arm free from Emma’s grasp and looked around wildly. “But where? I always use the house.”
Emma grabbed her arm again as if she might disappear at that moment. “Do you think there’s still a portal in the shopping center?”
“She uses a spell,” Dexter said. “An unreliable one, too.”
“It’s never been unreliable before,” Ariana argued. “And it doesn’t matter if I get back within minutes or days of when I left. I still have to go back and find them.”
“Let’s get in the car,” Emma suggested, looking around as more people pulled into the parking lot. She raked her fingers through her hair. “We must look quite mad.”
They moved as one mass of terrified limbs, crumbling into their respective seats in the car. Dexter noticed as soon as Ariana sat, she began to tremble violently. A glance in the rearview mirror showed Emma looking as if she’d be sick. He caught her eye and tried to look reassuring, but when he saw his own reflection he looked as green as she did, his smile like a grimace.
Belmary House Book Six Page 12
