He sighed heavily and continued. "She died about a week after my father did." His shoulders sagged. "I did not know for nearly two months. Her family let the world believe it was a carriage accident, but they wanted me to know the truth.”
"That she killed herself?" Maggie said gently.
"God, no.” Adam raised startled eyes. "Eleanor and I liked each other, enjoyed each other’s company, but we were never in love. She had no reason to take her own life." He reached forward and grasped her hands. His eyes gazed deeply into hers and she read concern there, as if Adam worried about her reaction to his words. An icy hand of apprehension gripped her heart.
“Maggie,” he said slowly, "Eleanor's family thought she had another suitor, one she spurned in favor of me. She did not kill herself. She was murdered." He gripped her hands tightly. "I believe the suitor and the murderer was Edward.”
What?" She snatched her hands from his. "You're saying he's done this before? That's really hard to believe." Could she have been that wrong about the man? She shook her head. "Edward was my friend."
“Maggie." Adam spoke calmly and retrieved her hands. His gaze was tender, his words firm. "He tried to kill you. He has apparently been watching me for years, waiting for me to find love. His friendship with you was a sham, a pretense." He reached forward and brushed the hair away from her face, then cupped her chin in his hand and stared into her eyes. "He would have killed you, Maggie, have no doubt. He is insane with his need for revenge and has already killed one woman."
She stared at him, shocked. Her voice was barely a whisper. "He really would have killed me, wouldn't he?" Adam nodded somberly and she shook her head in amazement. "Jeez, this is turning out to be one hell of a vacation."
Abruptly shivers shuddered through her and she couldn't seem to control herself. "Adam, hold me."
He pulled her swiftly into his arms and held her tight against his chest. Maggie let his comfort and strength surround her. Lethargy crept over her and without warning exhaustion gripped her. Maggie wondered dimly if this was some sort of delayed reaction of shock to the events in the library and the revelations afterward. Edward. A murderer. She snuggled deeper in Adam's embrace, sighed heavily, and closed her eyes.
There was something she needed to tell him but her mind was too fuzzy to concentrate. Something he said earlier that she had let slip by. Something he had wrong. What was it? She seemed almost drugged with fatigue and weariness. Whatever it was, she could tell him later.
She still had time.
***
Even the encounter with Edward did not take Maggie's mind off the days relentlessly racing past. She and Adam spent every minute together, neither mentioning her impending departure. Still, it colored every thought, every action, every moment.
Maggie insisted she and Adam take the pictures remaining in her camera. They drove around London surreptitiously taking photos. Adam commented that they probably looked like a pair of cutpurses plotting breakins with their secretive behavior. But Maggie snapped that it was easier to deal with a few suspicious looks than to try to explain a device that hadn't been invented yet. The pictures were important to her. They would be the only tangible evidence she'd have of her time here with Adam.
Maggie was able to introduce Adam to a genuine thief when Bert showed up at the house. Adam accepted Maggie's request for passage for Bert and his family without question and graciously thanked the young housebreak for bringing Maggie home. Adam quirked his eyebrow at her when he heard Bert’s last name but he never confronted her with the questions the man's presence brought up. Questions Maggie had avoided facing. Questions about changing history or being a part of it, about coincidence versus destiny. When Adam stared speculatively at Bert, Maggie could tell the same questions ran through his mind. She wondered why he never asked them out loud but was grateful for the omission. She didn’t know the answers.
She'd catch Adam staring at her but his look was different than it had been before the incident with Edward. In the country, his glances were curious, considering. Now they appeared infinitely sadder, and somehow resigned and accepting. Even without words, Maggie sensed he'd given up any hope of her remaining in his world. It was better this way, though the realization left her vaguely disappointed.
All too soon, May twelfth dawned. Maggie and Adam stayed together in his rooms for much of the day talking quietly about nothing of importance. All they had to say to each other had either already been said or would never be spoken aloud. Each knew the other’s feelings about love and loss. Maggie's conviction that she had to leave remained firm. Yet with each hour that passed she knew it would be harder and harder to say good-bye.
They made love for the last time. Slowly, almost reverently, their usual joy in each other now poignant, bittersweet.
At the end, he gathered her in his embrace and she wept in his arms. For the life they would never build, and the children they would never raise and the golden twilight years they would never share. He held her close and they promised quietly that no matter what happened in their separate futures, they would cherish this time spent together always.
And vowed they would never forget.
***
After dusk, Lydia joined Maggie and Adam in the front salon, the beautiful green-and-gold room Maggie admired so much when she first arrived. The air lay sluggish around them, thick and heavy with tension and apprehension.
Maggie leaned against the fireplace, dressed once again in the clothes she wore when she dropped into their lives. She had abandoned the fashionable and extremely becoming dresses she had worn for the last month and instead donned the odd, heavy blue trousers, scandalously thin yellow shirt, the leather jacket that looked far more appropriate for a man than a woman, and the bizarre shoes that so fascinated Adam.
The bag full of wonders from another time was looped over one shoulder. Maggie insisted Adam keep the mathematical item she called a calculator, he was so taken by it. Her arms folded across her chest, only her gaze shifted, fixed on Adam pacing in front of the fireplace. Now and then their eyes met. Adam's glowed dark, forbidding, and anguished; Maggie's mirrored acceptance, heartache, and despair.
Lydia watched them silently. They were obviously deeply in love and just as obviously in pain. Her throat ached with tears she refused to spill. This was, after all, their sorrow. She was scarcely more than an observer, but one filled with helplessness and frustration. Lydia was not used to such feelings and she raged inside at the tragedy of it all and her own sense of futility.
She alone still held out a single thread of hope. Lydia had never really believed Maggie would be taken away on this night. Never truly imagined that Maggie and Adam were not destined to stay together always. Maggie's leaving was as farfetched as the whole idea of her arrival from the future in the first place. But Lydia had seen the proof of that. This return trip so far was simply a theory. Lydia stood by the window, periodically pulling back the heavy brocade drapes to peer into the empty street.
Nothing.
Lydia prayed Maggie was wrong. Prayed her theory was flawed. Prayed her carriage would not come.
She noted the time on the mantel clock. Good, it was growing late. Surely it would soon be too late and Maggie's belief that she would return to her own time on this night would be shattered. Lydia nervously checked the street again. Where mere moments ago it was clear, a mist now grew noticeably thicker.
Her heart sank. She glanced at Adam and Maggie, too deep in their own thoughts to notice. The tiny spark of hope within Lydia died A fog-filled night brought Maggie and it appeared one would now take her away.
Lydia turned again to the window and drew back sharply as if stung by what she saw. For a moment she toyed with the idea of not saying anything, of pretending there was nothing outside. She shook her head sadly. It would be no use.
"Bloody hell," she murmured quietly and turned toward the lovers. "I am so sorry." She could hardly bear to say the words. "It appears your carriage has arrived, Maggie."
The color swept from Maggie's face and her anguished gaze caught Adam's. Lydia discreetly left the room. Maggie and Adam stared for a long, silent moment.
"I guess this is it then," Maggie said quietly.
Adam nodded. "It would appear so."
"I don't want to go," she whispered.
Adam just shook his head sadly. It had all been said over and over. Now that it was time, Maggie didn't know how she could bear to leave him.
"Oh, Adam." She sobbed and threw herself into his arms.
"Maggie. Maggie, my love." Adam rained kisses on her as if devouring her would keep her by his side. Waves of despair washed over them and they clung to each other, drowning in their desperate sorrow.
"Oh God, Maggie," Adam whispered hoarsely. “How can I live without you?"
"I can't stay, Adam, I can't. This isn't where I belong." She wrenched herself out of his grasp, knowing if she didn't leave now she never would. Everything told her she had to leave. There was no choice. She started toward the door, then turned back to him. Reaching her hand up to his cheek, she touched his beloved face one last time.
“Forever, Adam. Through all time. Through eternity itself, know . . . I will always love you."
He caught her hand in his and kissed her palm. She gazed into his endless, dark eyes for the last time. A sob choked her throat. She pulled away and ran out of the room, through the grand foyer, and out the front doors. Lydia stood on the steps, staring at the horse and carriage.
She grabbed Maggie's arm. "Maggie, I beg of you, don't go. Don't do this." Her amber eyes flashed and she caught Maggie’s gaze. "It will kill him."
Maggie shook her off. "I have to. You know that and you know why." Maggie swatted impatiently at the tears on her face. "I was right about this damn carriage coming back, wasn't I? I'd say it's a good bet I'm right about the rest of it, too. About one person too many here. About an imbalance." She shook her head and took a deep, steadying breath. "Once I leave, everything will be right again. In history. In time. It will all be back to normal."
"Normal?" Lydia laughed hysterically. "Nothing will ever be normal here again. Adam will die a little each day without you. Oh, he'll do his duty and take care of his responsibilities, but you take with you his heart. Normal, Maggie?" Lydia shook her head. "Look at what you’ve done to me. You've shown me there will be a time when women will not have to hide their intelligence. When women will be able to stand up for themselves without apology. When marriage will not be their only future. I will not see it, but knowing it will come has changed how I look at myself and everything around me."
Maggie stared, horrified by Lydia's words. "Oh, Lydia, I'm so sorry."
"Do not be sorry." Lydia shook her head and smiled wryly. "It was a wonderful adventure.”
Maggie threw her arms around Lydia and embraced her desperately, tears choked with laughter.
"Take care of your brother for me, Lydia," Maggie whispered. "Help him to go on. I love him so much.” She released Lydia and stepped toward the carriage.
"Ready, miss?" It was her gnome. Any lingering doubts vanished. He had returned for her. She nodded silently and he helped her into the carriage.
Maggie turned. Lydia stood on the steps, tears streaming down her face. In the open doorway, Adam stood alone, fists clenched at his sides. She raised a hand in silent farewell but let it fall to her lap. It was too late for good-byes. The carriage moved forward sedately, in no apparent hurry. Adam's figure blurred, obscured by the swirling fog and the tears in her eyes.
Chances and choices, her driver had said on her first ride. Destiny is a matter of choice, not chance . . . a little bit of both . . . take a chance . . . just mebee . . . that is destiny.
But she never had a choice, never got to decide whether to take a chance. Maggie had always believed there were no options here, that she had to go back.
A startling thought lanced through her with a physical jolt. Adam didn't know that. She never told him what choice she'd make if she could. How could she leave him forever without letting him know? It was the least she could do for the man she would always love.
"Wait! Stop!” she screamed. "I can't go yet." Maggie stumbled from the rolling carriage. Adam raced toward her and she tumbled into his waiting arms.
"Oh God, Maggie, I thought you were gone forever," Adam cried.
"Adam." She pulled back and stared directly into his eyes. "I couldn't leave without telling you. If I had a choice, if I had to make the decision, nothing could tear me away from you. Do you understand? Nothing."
The glimmer of hope died in his eyes and he shook his head sorrowfully. "No, my love. I fear you are mistaken. I learned the night with Lindley, you do not need me."
"Not need you? What an idiot you are, Coleridge. You've never been so wrong." She shook her head slowly. "I may not need you to protect me or defend me, but without you I don't know how I'll go on or survive. I don't know what will keep my heart beating, how I'll take a breath without you. Need you? Oh, Adam, you're all I've ever needed, ever wanted, ever dreamed of." She shrugged sadly. “Without you, my life won't be worth living."
“Then stay with me, Maggie." His dark gaze searched hers. "Surely one mere person will not make that much of a difference to the next two hundred years."
Maggie shook her head. “I can't take that chance. One person just might throw everything off. I have to—"
"I'll go."
Astonished, Adam and Maggie whirled to find Lydia smiling serenely behind them.
"No," Adam said.
"Yes," Maggie whispered.
“Adam," Lydia said gently, “it would seem the perfect solution."
Adam stared at his sister. “I cannot permit you to go off to God knows where, to remain for the rest of your life."
Lydia sighed. "Adam, my love, we both know I have not found my proper place in this world. My recent actions have fairly guaranteed an acceptable offer of marriage will be not be forthcoming. Here my age is already a hindrance, but Maggie assures me," she said, her eyes twinkling at her brother, “in her time three-and-twenty is considered extremely young."
"No, Lydia." Adam shook his head firmly. “In her world you would be alone and helpless with no one to guide you, no one you could turn to."
"Yes, there is." Maggie spoke up thoughtfully. "There’s my sister. She could and would be more than happy to take Lydia in hand.”
Adam frowned. "I daresay I am hard-pressed to trust my sister's fate to someone named Kiki."
"Her real name is Katherine," Maggie said. "Most people call her Kat. Better?"
"Hardly."
"My sister's a wonderful person, Adam. Kiki would take good care of Lydia." She caught Adam's gaze. "Especially if she knew I wasn't coming back."
"And what of you, Maggie?" Adam pulled her to him and searched her eyes. "You said if you had a choice, you would choose to stay with me. You appear to have it now. Will you give up all you know, all you have ever known? Your sister? Your comforts? Your history?"
Maggie stared up into his deep, smoldering eyes, eyes she could gaze at for the rest of her life and consider herself lucky. She nodded slowly. "In a flash, Coleridge."
He crushed her to his chest, and joy swept through her. A question sparked in her mind and she pulled back. "If I can." Maggie turned to the gnome still seated in the carriage. "Can I? Can I stay? Can Lydia take my place?"
The wizened old man seemed to consider the question. He studied each of them in turn, each waiting expectantly. "Gots to have me a fare."
Disappointment ripped through her. The gnome's bright blue eyes peeked out from his wrinkled face and caught her gaze. "But sometimes, miss, a fare is only one way."
The meaning of his words hit her and she reeled with the impact. "One way? You mean I'm not supposed to go back? I'm supposed to stay?" She glared in irritation. “Why didn't you tell me?"
Her driver shrugged his ancient shoulders. " ’Tweren't my place."
"It's settled then," Lydia s
aid with satisfaction. “Shall we go?"
“I am still not certain . . ." A frown furrowed Adam's brow.
"Adam." Lydia laid a gentle hand on his arm. "I fear this is not your decision and I have made mine. Do not make this parting more difficult."
Adam pinned her with a steady stare, his words heavy with emotion. "You realize this is more than likely permanent. You shall never return." His dark eyes gleamed. "We shall never see one another again.”
A wistful smile touched Lydia's lips. "I know."
For a long moment, sister and brother gazed quietly at each other, one with the sorrow of a final good-bye, the other with the barely suppressed anticipation of a new life.
"Okay," Maggie interrupted, "I hate to break this up but if you're going to take off we've got to get going." Her mind raced. "I have to write you a note for my sister to explain all this. She's never going to believe it. There has to be something to convince her." She snapped her fingers. "Adam, is there a Bank of England yet?"
"Most certainly," he responded in a somewhat haughty tone.
“Don't be such a snob," she said, "not now. We can set up an account for Lydia and Kiki; that will take care of money. I can put my things, things Kiki will recognize, in a safety-deposit box or something. If we're right, you'll be getting back on the same day I left. And here." She pulled off one of her filigree earrings. "These are one of a kind. Kiki had them made for me, so she'll recognize them. I'll give the other to the bank to use for identification."
Maggie rummaged in her purse and pulled out her sketchpad and a pen. Quickly she scribbled a note to her sister, folded it, and handed it to Lydia. She pawed through her purse again, this time coming up with her hotel key and a fistful of pound notes.
"Here's the key to our hotel room. The address is on the key chain here. And you'll need this money for a cab to get there." Maggie grimaced with concern. “I just wish I could be sure you'll get there okay."
Yesterday and Forever Page 27
