“I understand all too well.”
She threaded her arm through his elbow, then led him from the box and through the hallways of the theatre. She kept her pace as brisk as she could without being too conspicuous, hoping he wouldn’t see anything too modern.
Elsa had funded the production in part so she had a say in what theatre they used. She had selected this one for its Victorian-inspired décor. Dark carpeting covered the floor, and ornate moldings offset floral designs painted on the walls. The light fixtures were made to look like candles, even down to the flame-shaped light bulbs.
They walked down the stairs to the lobby without encountering anyone. She let out a breath of relief and guided Dante toward the side exit.
The night air was muggy after the chill of the air-conditioning inside. A trash bin in the alley added a faint smell of garbage to the humidity. It wasn’t the best first impression for Dante of the modern world, but the front exit wasn’t an option. She couldn’t risk him seeing cars driving by. She had things to explain first.
They walked around to the back of the theatre, where she had instructed the driver she’d hired for the night to wait. He was standing dutifully by the rear door of the limo, which he opened when he saw them.
She nodded at the driver, then slid into the back seat, pulling Dante in after her. Once the door was closed, she gave Dante the back bench seat to himself and took the one closest to the driver. She wanted to be sure the partition separating the front and back compartments of the limo remained closed. With what she and Dante had to discuss, Elsa didn’t want anyone listening in.
“This is a carriage,” he said.
“Yes. I’m a little surprised you realized that.”
“It has a seating compartment set on four wheels, though they appear quite thick and heavy. I confess it more closely resembles a train car than any carriage I have seen, but there are no tracks for it to ride upon.”
She had planned to expose him to the modern world slowly, to give him time to adjust. She knew he had a keen intellect, but she hadn’t known how observant he was.
They pulled away from the curb and he placed his hands on either side of the seat. Elsa had traveled to enough times before cars were invented to know it was second nature for those used to the jostling rides of a horse-drawn carriage. In the dim light, she could see Dante’s head move from side to side as he looked around the compartment.
“A horseless carriage,” he said.
“Another astute observation.”
“Not so. It is apparent that we are moving, yet the coachman had not time to harness horses to the carriage. Also, there were no horses in the alley.”
She smiled, wishing she could see Dante’s expression. She could almost hear the hint of a smile in his voice, as if he was joking with her.
“Have you seen a horseless carriage before?”
“Designs only. But promising work on many aspects of the invention is under way in several countries. I am sure we are on the brink of a great advancement. That is to say, those we have left behind.”
Elsa wasn’t sure what he meant by that. Was it possible he had already figured out that she had brought him to another time?
She was counting on him being able to adapt, but this seemed a little fast. Then again, she’d only really observed Dante during the biggest ups and downs of his life, moments when his emotions had been strong enough to leave an imprint on the ring he wore.
Even after a century had passed, she felt the energy of those moments stirring in his ring when she bought it. She had been able to use their pull to travel back in time and witness his life.
As powerful as that pull had always been, it was nothing compared to being in Dante’s actual physical presence. His touch was intoxicating. Addictive.
Elsa needed to keep her distance. She was supposed to be helping him. Dante would be relying on her to guide him through his new life, his new world. It was her job to protect him, and the weight of that responsibility was only just settling on her shoulders.
For a floundering moment, she wondered if she was completely out of her depth.
“I do not know whether to feel obliged to you or fearful,” he said.
“I prefer neither. I’m here to help you, Dante.”
“You know my name. I am afraid you have me at a disadvantage.”
“I’m Elsa. Elsa Sinclair.”
“Dante Lucerne,” he said.
“I know.”
After a brief silence, he said, “May I ask you some questions, Miss Sinclair?”
“Please, call me Elsa.”
“Very well, Elsa.”
Hearing him say her name sent a shiver down her spine. She rubbed her arms to tame the goose bumps running wild along her skin.
“Please, take this.” He took off the cloak and handed it to her.
“Thanks.” She folded the cloak on her lap.
She could see him better now, though not as well as she would like. He was staring at her, and her stomach started doing flip-flops. Riding backward in the limo turned the sensation from pleasant to nauseating. At this rate, she’d wind up getting sick on the side of the road.
“I’m sorry, I can’t ride backward like this.”
She crossed to the other side of the limo, sitting as close to the window opposite him as she could. She put the cloak on the seat between them as a reminder to stop touching him. She wanted to reassure herself that he was okay, that he was really here with her.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
“It’s just a little motion sickness.”
“I can hardly feel that we are moving, yet we seem to be passing the lamps at quite a speed.”
He was reacting well to the things he’d already figured out. Elsa hoped he would react as well to what she was about to tell him next. It was one thing to make the leap from horse-drawn carriages to cars. It was quite another to hear someone talk about time travel.
The nausea returned full-force as she recalled the last time she’d told someone about her ability. She shoved the memory ruthlessly into the back of her mind. This wouldn’t end that way. Dante would understand.
She let herself put her hand on his arm, drawing his attention from the view out the window. His skin was so warm.
“I understand this is confusing. Please trust me. I think eventually you’ll be very happy here. It just might take some getting used to.”
“I imagine so,” he said.
“I have something that will help.”
Elsa glanced around the seat, searching for the book she’d brought along on the development of automobiles. Since they’d be starting off in a car and he had seen carriages, she thought it was a good way to ease him into believing that she’d taken him forward in time.
The limo’s interior was too dark to see properly, so she reached up and switched on the overhead light. Electricity might have been a better place to start.
“What on earth is this?” Dante reached up and cautiously pressed his fingers against the glass.
Elsa was stunned for a moment by the wonder unfolding on his face. The corners of his lips lifted slightly in an almost-smile. He gently traced his long fingers over the surface of the light fixture.
When he turned back to her, his eyes were a roiling blue-green. Elsa’s heart seemed to stop. She couldn’t catch her breath.
His smile faded, and Dante sat back against his seat, turning his face away from her. “I apologize. I did not mean to startle you. Perhaps you should extinguish the light.”
“I wasn’t startled.”
“There is no need to preserve my feelings in this matter.” The smile he gave her then was rueful. “I assure you, I am quite accustomed to this reaction.”
“What reaction?”
“I know that my appearance is…troublesome.”
Only in that it made Elsa want to do things that she really shouldn’t be thinking about. She couldn’t suppress a short laugh.
Dante angled his face a bit toward her, watching her from the corner of his eye. If only he knew how ridiculous that was.
“There is nothing about you that troubles me.” Except perhaps that he felt the need to wear his mask at all.
His gaze softened, but he didn’t say anything in response. She knew better than to push on this issue so soon. In his time, the mask had been necessary. Elsa would do everything she could to make him feel comfortable enough to show his face to the world. She would start by taking his mind off the matter.
“And the answer to your question is, that is an incandescent light bulb.” She dropped her voice to a whisper, remembering the driver. The barrier between the front and back of the limo might be closed, but Elsa was still paranoid. She leaned closer to Dante. “I think those were pretty close to development in 1881 as well, but we’ll cover those later.”
She saw the book she’d been looking for tucked between the seat and the side of the limo next to him, and reached across to grab it. At that moment, the limo hit a pothole, throwing her off-balance. She might have fallen off the seat, but Dante reached out and grabbed her, pulling her against him.
Elsa’s hands landed on his broad shoulders, her breasts pressed against his chest. She thought that time might have stopped entirely, Dante was holding so still. He wasn’t even breathing.
He was warm, or maybe she was cold. She couldn’t tell. All Elsa knew was that she wanted to be closer, wanted more of them to touch. Parts of her body that she had neglected for years responded to him.
Finally, he asked, “Are you all right?”
“Yes, of course,” she said, laughing a little as she pried herself off of him. “Sorry about that. I was just trying to reach this.”
She stretched past him and picked up the book. Her heart was still thundering from the contact. It was making her lightheaded.
“Please, look through this.” She handed him the book, then leaned back in her seat.
“Carriage schematics?” he asked, leafing through the first pages.
“Just keep going.”
Dante skimmed through page after page. “This is quite extraordinary,” he said. The more he read, the more creases appeared in his brow. He also began to frown. Elsa hadn’t expected that.
“What is it?”
“This is possible,” he said.
“Absolutely.”
“That is not what I mean.”
He closed the book and set it on top of the cloak, his gaze roving over the limo’s interior. His hands followed, touching the glass of the windows, the stitching of the seats, the hard plastics and treated wood. He even lifted Elsa’s cloak, rubbing the fabric between his thumb and forefinger.
“Talk to me. What’s bothering you?”
“The things in this book, though extremely advanced, are within the realm of possibility. There is a logical progression, an evolution of technology, as it were, that cannot be denied. But it is impossible that I should be witnessing them.”
“Not everything that is possible can be explained.” Her heart picked up again and, for a change, it wasn’t because of his closeness.
Dante stared at her for a very long time. She could practically see the thoughts churning in his mind like the waters of a stormy sea.
“Miss Sinclair,” he said. “Where exactly am I?”
Elsa glanced to the front of the limo to make sure the partition was still closed. It did little to reassure her. She scooted closer to him and leaned in close.
“You’re in America,” she said, her voice as low as she could manage. That part wasn’t so hard to share. “Florida, precisely.”
“Florida…”
Dante looked out the window, though at this time of night, nothing was visible except a dark horizon and stars overhead muted by the tinted glass. Elsa could see his mask reflected back at her. It was surreal.
She had been working for years on bringing him to her time and still had trouble believing he was here. How hard must it be for Dante?
He picked up the book, holding it up as he faced her again. “That does not explain this.”
Elsa took the book from him and opened it to the imprint page. She traced down the printing information until she reached the copyright date. Her hands trembled as she lifted it for Dante to see.
It was right there for him in black and white, but apparently he needed to hear the words to believe them. In a hushed voice, he said, “Copyright 2015.”
Chapter Three
“You cannot be suggesting that the year is two thousand and fifteen.”
Dante might have laughed, if not for the way Elsa clutched his arm, her gaze darting to the front of the cabin. She shifted toward him in her seat, till there was no space left between them. His breath quickened as he felt the softness of her breast pressing against his arm.
“Please keep your voice down,” she whispered in his ear. Her entire body trembled.
He lowered his voice to match hers. “Are we in danger?”
She stared at the front of the cabin, though all he saw was a solid wall. A solid wall in a vehicle more advanced than any from his time. Was he actually considering that what she said might be true?
“Not exactly,” she said. “But it’s important that no one finds out about where you’re from. I mean, when you’re from.”
He found neither her tone nor her demeanor reassuring. “I take it that I am not supposed to be here?”
“You are supposed to be here, Dante.” She turned to him at last, all traces of her uncertainty vanishing. She took his hand in hers once more. “I wouldn’t have been able to bring you forward if it wasn’t meant to be.”
The tremor in her slight frame ceased, as if punctuating her words. Dante was certain she absolutely believed this to be true. But could he believe the rest of it?
His mind was still full of the images from the book she had shown him. Automobiles of all manner were described and pictured within, a variety so great and complex, it was staggering in its implications. If he dared to trust its contents, cars were common. Even a century seemed not long enough for such advancements to have taken place.
If he believed what the book contained, what his own senses told him, what of the rest of it? It would mean that Elsa had somehow transported him through time. She had pulled him from a fire that would certainly have killed him and carried him through that icy void of darkness. And now they were in America and the year was two thousand and fifteen.
“This is a bit difficult to believe.”
Elsa let out a short laugh. “I’m having a little trouble with it, myself. I wasn’t sure I’d be able to get you here. I’m so glad it worked.”
“Given the alternative, I find myself in agreement.”
She paled and turned her face away from him. “I couldn’t…” Her voice came out low and stilted. “I couldn’t let you die like that.”
“I was not the only one who perished in the fire.”
“You were the only one I could save. I’m sorry I couldn’t do more. I’m sorry about the others.”
Dante’s throat constricted as he thought of Klaus and Heinrich, even Giselle. He turned his face so that his mask was toward Elsa and closed his eyes, shielding him from her view while he collected himself. He felt her touch his shoulder, her skin cold through the thin fabric of his shirt.
She slid her hand behind his back and pulled him closer. Though it seemed he was taking liberties, he could not resist her offer of comfort. He wrapped his arms around her, resting his head in the nape of her neck.
“This is a new start for you. A new world. I’m right here with you and will help you through it.”
A new world. Yet he was still himself. Being in a different time did n
ot alter his appearance. He doubted people had changed so much.
And yet, there was Elsa. He had yet to see fear or revulsion or pity in her gaze when she looked upon him. She did not shun his touch or avoid touching him, as if she thought his scars were catching.
“I am forever in your debt,” Dante said.
Apparently, that was not the best turn of phrase. Elsa stiffened, slowly releasing her hold on Dante as she slid toward the other side of the carriage. She smiled politely, but it held sadness instead of warmth. Somehow, his words had pushed her away.
“You aren’t in my debt. You never will be.”
“I apologize. I merely meant—”
“It’s okay. I just don’t want you to feel like you owe me anything.” Elsa brushed her fingers against the ceiling of the compartment, extinguishing the light.
How could he not feel indebted to her after she had saved his life? And she seemed to be taking a great risk by bringing him to her time. The journey had been harrowing enough for Dante. He could not imagine it had been any more pleasant for Elsa.
“We’re here.” She lifted the cloak and turned to him. “I hate to ask this of you, but could you wear this until we’re inside?”
“Of course.” He fastened the cloak around his neck, then pulled up the hood. She handed him the book, chewing fretfully on her lower lip as she stared past him out the window.
The carriage—automobile—turned onto a narrow lane lined with palms. The trees’ dark silhouettes blotted out the stars in fingerlike patterns that spread only from the very tops of their trunks. Dante felt the vehicle stop, and glanced through the window to see a large mansion.
Bright lights flowed out from the latticed windows, painting stripes of green on the otherwise darkened lawn. The walls were stone, the design reminiscent of many buildings Dante had seen in London in his time. He was a bit disappointed at the familiarity of its appearance.
The coachman—no, driver—came around to open the door and stepped aside as Dante exited the automobile. Dante turned back to help Elsa emerge into the balmy night. She thanked the driver, then threaded her arm through Dante’s as they walked the stone path to her doorstep.
Wandering Soul Page 2
