by Laura Beers
He gave her a mischievous smile. “Are you attempting to compromise me?”
Amelia laughed. “No. I have something to share with you, and I don’t want to be interrupted.”
Pulling on the reins, the carriage came to a stop, and he set the brake. As she turned to exit the carriage, Adam touched her elbow.
“Wait for me to assist you,” he said.
Nodding, she sat back as he came around the carriage and placed his hands on her waist. He lowered her down, but he did not immediately relinquish his hold. Knowing this might be her last opportunity to kiss him, she wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her lips to his.
After a moment, he stepped back. “That is my new favorite way to be thanked for assisting you out of a carriage,” he teased with a wink.
Instead of offering his arm, he reached for her hand as they strolled through the grassy field. Up ahead, she heard a stream trickling through a grove of trees. She remembered that it was beautifully covered in moss, with little flowers growing on the banks. How she wished this was a walk of leisure rather than a potential walk of doom.
Stopping, Amelia turned to face Adam, attempting to memorize his features. “I have something to tell you, and it won’t be easy for you to hear.”
“There is nothing that you can tell me that will change the way that I feel about you,” Adam assured her, squeezing her gloved hand.
She smiled tentatively. “We shall see about that.” Taking a deep breath, she began, “You may have noticed things about me that seemed rather odd…”
“Well, you are American,” he teased, interrupting her.
“True, I am American,” she started again. “But even in America, I don’t fit in during this time.”
Cocking his head, Adam released her hand. “I beg your pardon?”
Straightening her spine, she said, “I am a doctor, but I am actually from the future. I belong in the year 2018.”
Adam threw his head back and roared with laughter, much to her annoyance. When he calmed down, he smiled down at her. “I haven’t laughed that hard in ages.”
Placing her hand on the sleeve of his riding coat, Amelia tried a different approach. “Every full moon, Twickenham Manor hosts a ball, and during this time, the magic is activated, and people can travel to another time.”
He rubbed a hand over his chin. “What exactly are you saying, Amelia?”
“Twickenham Manor is home to fairie folk, known as fae. It was built to cover the fissure in the earth that allows their magic to seep into our world,” she explained, using her hands to emphasize her point. “Aunt Nellie has been the Matron of the Manor for centuries. She gathers the dew on the lawn and plants to create the portraits needed for time travel.”
Adam stared at her in disbelief. “Did you forget that I grew up next to Aunt Nellie and Twickenham Manor? It is not possible that she has been living there for centuries.”
“Have you seen Aunt Nellie age in all that time?”
With a heavy sigh, Adam asked, “Do you expect me to believe that you have traveled from the future?”
She nodded. “I do.”
“I knew that you were too good to be true.” Adam turned away from her. “You are mad,” he stated.
“No, I am not,” she insisted, placing her hand on his sleeve. He shifted his arm, and her hand dropped, shocking her with his rejection. “My mother was named Charlotte, but she went by Lottie, and you met her.”
“No!” he shouted. “You cannot invent falsehoods to convince me of something that is not true.”
Reaching her hand into the pocket of her dress, she started to pull out the coral necklace, but Adam began walking away. “Wait, Adam!” she shouted. “I have proof.”
He stopped and said harshly over his shoulder, “Only my friends have the right to call me by my given name.”
She stared at him, shocked. “Are we not friends anymore?”
Adam turned around to face her. “Friends don’t lie to each other.”
“I am not lying,” Amelia stated, stepping closer, holding up the necklace. “You gave this to my mother.” She shook it. “You gave it to her as a token of your friendship.”
His eyes widened with recognition as he stared at the necklace. “Where did you get this?” he demanded. “Did you steal this from Lottie?”
“No,” Amelia declared. “Charlotte Wright is my mother. She went to one of the parties at Twickenham Manor during a full moon. The magic pulled her into your time, but she had to go back home because she was expecting me.” She placed the necklace into his hand. “My mother is dying and wanted to see Aunt Nellie one more time, so we traveled to visit Twickenham Manor. My mother, Lottie, sent me to help you. She’s been worried about you.”
“And how exactly did you travel to this time?”
Her eyes were imploring, willing him to believe her. “I came to your time by stepping through my portrait at Twickenham Manor.”
For a moment, Amelia thought she had gotten through to him, but then he huffed. “You are good. Almost believable, in fact.” He placed the necklace into his coat pocket. “But you will not take me for a fool, Miss Wright.” He turned and started to walk, but away from the curricle rather than towards it.
Standing in the field, she shouted at his retreating frame, “When have I ever lied to you, Lord Harrington? I told you that I did not belong in this time, but you were the one that refused to listen.”
Adam stopped and turned back towards her. “Instead of rejecting me outright, you have concocted a story so unfathomable that it belongs in a work of fiction.” His words were filled with heartache. “Just go. Go back to being a doctor in America, but don’t you dare lie to me.”
“I am not lying!” she exclaimed, walking up to him. “I choose you, Adam.” She grabbed his lapels. “I will give up being a doctor if it means I will be your wife.”
“You forget one thing,” Lord Harrington uttered through gritted teeth, stepping out of her reach, “I have not asked.”
Amelia reared back as if he had struck her. Her heart plummeted down to her toes, but she wanted to convince him of the truth. “How do you think I knew how to perform that caesarian delivery?”
“You told me that you were a doctor.”
“The first female doctor in the United States began her practice in 1849,” she informed him. “No medical school in the world accepts females yet.”
“What did you hope to gain from your web of deceit?” he asked coldly.
She bit the inside of her lip, attempting to control her emotions. “I came to help you,” she pleaded. “You must believe that I did not mean to hurt you. I care about you deeply.”
“No, you have demonstrated that you only care about yourself!” Adam shouted, running his hand through his hair. “What am I going to tell Marian?”
“I could talk to her…”
He took a commanding step forward. “You are never allowed to see Marian again,” he ordered. “I forbid it.”
Despite his thunderous tone, Amelia did not fear him, because she could hear the pain in his voice. “So, this is it?” she asked, her voice rising. “Because once I go home, I will never come back.”
Clenching his jaw, Adam replied, “I should have paid attention to my initial impression of you and sent you away.”
Hurt by his condescending tone, she tilted her chin stubbornly. “It is your choice to hate me, but I will never look back upon this time without remembering the fondness I felt for you.” Tears filled her eyes as she found the strength to express her next words. “I love you, and I always will.”
Turning away from him, Amelia began walking back towards Twickenham Manor. “Take the carriage home,” Lord Harrington directed.
“I prefer to walk,” she replied, not bothering to turn around.
Once she was out of sight, Amelia broke into a run and didn’t stop until she dashed through the main door of Twickenham Manor.
“How does this look?” Peyton asked, placing a straw
hat with artificial fruit on her head.
Amelia laughed. “I think the large, green grapes really bring out your eyes.”
Removing the fruited creation, Peyton put it back on the display stand and pinned her simple straw hat to her head. “This milliner store is fun, but I loved perusing the parasols and umbrellas at Harding Howell & Co.’s.”
“Really?” Amelia asked, smiling. “I couldn’t tell. We only spent two hours there.”
“I did offer to get you fitted for a corset at John Arpthorp’s establishment, but you didn’t think that was necessary,” Peyton replied, feigning disapproval.
“I am not a fan of stays, and all these blasted layers,” Amelia admitted. “I much prefer working in a hospital and wearing only scrubs and…”
“Undergarments,” Peyton finished, cutting in. “Amelia, please watch your language. I fear my delicate constitution cannot handle such vulgarity.” She smiled, her eyes twinkling with merriment.
Amelia grinned. “I am so glad that you talked me into going shopping in London today.”
“It was an entirely selfish thing on my part,” Peyton explained as she opened the milliner’s door, ringing the bell hanging above the entrance. “Between watching you go riding, reading countless books, and listening to your chatter while embroidering, I was exhausted.”
Stepping out onto the pavement, Amelia put her hand in the crook of Peyton’s elbow. “It is as I tell my patients, staying idle will do nothing to help ease your sadness.” Her other hand became animated as she continued. “Go read a book, learn a new skill, or go work out.”
“All excellent points, but those won’t mend a broken heart,” Peyton admonished, giving her a knowing look.
Watching her kid boots jet out from under her dress as she walked, Amelia attempted to defend her position. “I told Adam the truth, and he did not believe me. So that, as they say, is that.”
“No,” Peyton drawled. “You told him the truth and confessed your love.” She stopped on the pavement. “And he took your heart, ripped it up into little pieces, and stomped on it with his big, black, Hessian boots.”
Amelia rolled her eyes. “I took him by surprise, and he did not take it well.”
“That is the understatement of the year,” Peyton teased. “It has been five days, and I have yet to see Lord Harrington crawl over to Twickenham Manor to beg for your forgiveness.”
Tugging on her arm, Amelia led them back towards their carriage. “I have no regrets,” she insisted. “I spoke from my heart, and Lord Harrington rejected me. It was his choice to do so, and now I can go back to my time without always wondering ‘what if’.”
“Next time I see Lord High-and-Mighty, I would be happy to kick him in the stomach for you,” her friend said. “I have become quite proficient in my jiu-jitsu class. Hi-yah!”
“Personally, I would rather see you two in a dance-off,” Amelia joked.
“Miss Turner,” came a familiar voice from behind. “Wait.”
Turning around, they saw Lord Wessex rushing up the pavement towards them. Once he stopped in front of them, he bowed as they curtsied.
Amelia waited for Peyton to say something, but when she didn’t speak, she said, “What a pleasant surprise, Lord Wessex. How are you faring today?”
“I am well,” Lord Wessex answered, but his eyes were watching Peyton. “How are you faring, Miss Turner?”
Peyton forced a cough into her glove. “I am not feeling well. Please don’t come any closer, because I would hate to get you sick.”
“Would you be well enough for a carriage ride later this afternoon?” he asked, hopefully.
“No,” Peyton stated, shaking her head. “Being outside with this cold would be dreadful, just dreadful.”
Amelia hid her smile behind her gloved hand. For some reason, Peyton was pretending to be sick to avoid spending time with Lord Wessex. Interesting.
“I see,” Lord Wessex replied, his disappointment clearly showing. “Would you save me a dance at the ball tonight, then?”
“I can do that,” Peyton assured him. “I will put you down for my first dance of the evening.”
“Thank you,” Lord Wessex said with a smile. Finally, he shifted his gaze towards Amelia. “I am surprised that Harrington did not accompany you today.”
Amelia put on a brave face. “Lord Harrington and I will not be spending any more time together.”
Lord Wessex gave her a look of disbelief. “What did he do?” His words were slow and deliberate.
“Nothing. I feel that it is best if I go home tonight as planned,” she replied, giving him a weak smile.
“You can’t go back to America,” he stated firmly. “Adam would be devastated.”
Biting the inside of her lip, she attempted to keep her emotions at bay. “I don’t think so. We discussed it, and Lord Harrington encouraged me to go home.”
Amelia was surprised to see Lord Wessex clenching his jaw, and a muscle below his ear ticked rapidly. “Allow me to assist you ladies to your carriage, and then I will go call on my friend,” he informed them.
“You are too kind,” Amelia began, “but please don’t concern yourself, my lord.”
Lord Wessex offered his arms, and they both accepted. As he walked the few steps towards their carriage, he shared, “I am looking forward to the full moon tonight.”
Miss Turner sighed. “It will be a night to remember, that is for sure.”
Stopping at the carriage, Lord Wessex opened the door and assisted them inside. “Till this evening,” he acknowledged softly, his eyes watching Peyton.
Once he closed the door, Lord Wessex stepped back, and the carriage rolled down the cobblestone street. Amelia lifted a brow. “Do you want to explain your fake coughing episode back there?”
Peyton shrugged. “Lord Wessex may have asked permission to court me.”
“May have?”
Removing the pins from her straw hat, Peyton placed it on the bench next to her. “Either way, it does not matter,” she insisted. “I am not staying here.”
“You will hear no argument from me,” Amelia said, looking at the window at all the street vendors set up on the pavement.
“Good,” Peyton proclaimed, crossing her arms.
“Good.”
Neither of them spoke for a long moment, and then Peyton asked, “What would happen if I stayed till the next full moon?”
Amelia’s eyes went wide. “You are actually considering it?”
“Perhaps.”
“Have you spoken to Aunt Nellie?”
Peyton nodded. “She explained everything to me and said it was my choice.”
Smoothing out her dark blue skirt, Amelia took a moment to ponder what her friend was saying. “I suppose the main question is do you love him?”
“I find him handsome, funny, entertaining,” Peyton paused, her lips tightening, “but I am not in love with him.”
“Fair enough. But could you love him?” she pressed.
“I don’t know.” Her words were hesitant. “I find him… interesting.”
Untying the strings of her bonnet, Amelia replied, “Then why not stay? After all, Aunt Nellie can return you to the same moment as when you left, whether this full moon or the next.”
A determined look came to Peyton’s eyes. “Good point. I will do it. I will tell Lord Wessex tonight.”
“But don’t let him officially court you, though; at least until you figure out your feelings,” Amelia warned. “Courtship is another term for engagement in the Regency era.”
With a wave of her hand, Peyton dismissed her comment. “It will be fun to be courted like a lady, but I have no intention of staying in the nineteenth century.”
Amelia smiled at her friend. “You may say that now, but the heart wants what it wants.”
“Well, this girl does not want to use a chamber pot for the rest of her life.” Peyton giggled. “Or wear these long hat pins that could be used as deadly weapons.”
Laughing at her fr
iend’s antics, Amelia’s eyes drifted back towards the window and admired the rolling green countryside. Flocks of sheep meandered lazily through meadows rich in yellow flowers, stopping to watch the carriage as it passed by.
“I could have been happy here,” Amelia admitted softly under her breath. But it was not meant to be. Even though she was returning home, a part of her would always linger behind.
Chapter 15
Sitting atop his horse, Adam stared down from an adjacent hill near Twickenham Manor, knowing that Amelia was leaving tonight. The white estate glowed as the sun began sliding behind the horizon, casting bright rays of light into the sky. His horse pawed at the ground as he rested his forearms on the pommel of his saddle.
Sighing, he leaned back and adjusted his riding gloves. He loved Amelia with a fierceness that he had never known before, but his pride couldn’t seem to overlook her obvious flaw. She was mad.
“There you are, Harrington!” Lord Wessex exclaimed as he rode up next to him. “Your stable master was quite vague on which direction you were riding, but I see that I made the correct assumption.”
Preferring his own company tonight, Adam growled, “What do you want?”
John grinned. “Nothing but the pleasure of your company, old boy.”
“I am in no mood for your tiresome jesting, Wessex. Go away.”
“I was in town to be fitted for new shoes, and I ran into Miss Turner and Miss Wright,” Wessex began, ignoring his friend’s rudeness. “Imagine my surprise when I noticed that you were not escorting Miss Wright. What I find even more peculiar is that she’s planning to leave tonight, with your consent.”
“You are correct.”
“Ah, I see what’s going on.” Wessex nodded knowingly. “You are trying to find the courage to go and ask Miss Wright to marry you.”
Adam adjusted his reins before he turned his horse and urged him home. “No, quite the opposite. I was just saying goodbye.”
Wessex followed his lead, and their horses walked side by side. “Why are you letting her go?”
“Leave it alone,” Adam warned.
“No, I will not!” his friend exclaimed. “You are making a terrible mistake.”
