The Choice: The Pocket Watch Chronicles

by Ceci Giltenan

  Benedict did as he asked, repeating the words, “Sara Wells, with this ring, I thee wed, in the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit.” He slipped the ring on her finger.

  Then Sara took the larger gold ring and repeated the words, “Benedict MacIan, with this ring, I thee wed, in the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit.”

  The old captain beamed at them. “Benedict and Sara, you are now husband and wife. Kiss yer bride, lad.”

  Cradling her head with one hand, Benedict leaned down and kissed his lovely wife, as the sun dipped below the horizon.

  ~ * ~

  Sara couldn’t imagine a more romantic wedding and she had married quite a few couples in her books. But this was her wedding to the man she cherished. Countless miracles had occurred to bring them to this moment. When he gave her that first kiss as husband and wife, as the sun set and the stars began to twinkle, the magic was complete.

  Dinner with the captain and his officers was delicious and much to her delight, didn’t drag on. Not long after they had finished with dessert, the captain offered one more toast and bid them goodnight.

  In no time, she was alone again with her beloved. “Now, my darling husband, you can take all the time you need to worship me.”

  He gave a low chuckle before doing just that. He took her higher and higher, never quite letting her go. Hovering on the edge was heaven but eventually, she could stand it no more. “Benedict, please…

  “Anything you wish, my beloved.” He entered her with long firm strokes, finally allowing her to topple over the edge of bliss.

  As she lay in his arms savoring the afterglow, he kissed her temple and whispered, “I love you.”

  She turned her head to him and planted a soft kiss on his lips. “I love you, too.” She sighed and settled into his embrace.

  Soon his breathing became slow and steady as he drifted to sleep, but sleep didn’t come quite as swiftly for her. She listened to the sound of the waves hitting the hull and took a deep breath in, savoring the ocean air. She smiled to herself. When she had flown to Venice, this was not the cruise she had expected. But a wise old woman with a pocket watch had different plans for her. Thank you, Gertrude. Then she drifted off to sleep, lulled by the gentle motion of the ship.

  Epilogue - Nothing to Lose

  The DeCosta Farm, Mount Holly, NJ

  August 1788

  The cock crowed, rousing Sara from sleep as the sun was rising. She lay quietly next to Ben for a moment, remembering the dream she’d been having. It was an odd dream. She was in the twenty-first century, in her apartment outside of Baltimore.

  Over the years, she’d had lots of dreams about her own time. In the early years, when they lived in Philadelphia where Ben worked as a shipbuilder, they were nightmares. She had somehow uttered the return word and was yanked back to her old life, into her old body. She searched desperately for Ben, but couldn’t find him. He was lost to her. She’d wake from these dreams, terrified and in a panic, only to find herself safe within the circle of his arms.

  After a few years they went away, but returned with vigor twelve years later as life under British rule became more untenable. Even though they had changed their surname to DeCosta when they arrived in the colonies, Sara lived with fear that Llewellyn might somehow find them. Finally, they decided to leave Philadelphia. Benedict took on a partner and put the management of his shipyard into his capable hands. They bought a farm thirty miles away, in New Jersey, near the village of Mount Holly. In New Jersey, they were still under British rule, but things were not as tense out in the country as they had been in Philadelphia.

  They weren’t terribly far from the Delaware River and from there he could sail down to Philadelphia fairly quickly, but he only did this one day a week or even less as time passed. Benedict was forty-four now and instead of spending his days building ships, he created a thriving business making beautiful furniture.

  After that, the dreams changed. They were no longer nightmares. She would find herself in the house she grew up in. Her parents and brother were still alive. They hadn’t changed but she had. She was in Ceres Llewellyn’s body and yet that didn’t seem to matter. They knew who she was. Sometimes Ben would be with her in these dreams. And as time passed, her children would be there too, to the delight of their grandparents and uncle. These had been very good dreams, but she hadn’t had one in years. Maybe that was because she was a grandmother herself now.

  She and Ben had six children. Their oldest, Lily, was twenty-eight and married to Daniel, a farmer whose land bordered theirs. She and Daniel had three children ranging from a year old to six.

  Joshua was twenty-six. He had been named for her brother and as he grew, she was amazed at how much like his uncle he became. Joshua too was married to his beloved Beth and they had one three-year-old girl and a child on the way. He worked in the family business with Ben.

  Their third child, Emil, was twenty-four now. He had gone to university and had become a lawyer. He was working for a lawyer in Burlington, less than ten miles away. He wasn’t married yet, but was courting the lawyer’s daughter.

  Rosina, their fourth child was twenty-two and had just married the town blacksmith’s son in June.

  Their two youngest children, twin boys named Ian and James, were nineteen and had given Sara more gray hair than all the rest of them. Both boys were working as apprentices to Ben and Joshua now.

  Ben interrupted her musings. “What’s the matter?”

  She smiled, rose up on an elbow, and gave him a kiss. “Nothing. Why?”

  “You normally get right up. It seemed like something was on your mind.”

  “I was just thinking about a dream I was having.”

  “About what?”

  “My old life.”

  “It’s been a long time since you’ve had one of those.”

  “I know. And this one wasn’t like any of the others.”

  “What was different?”

  “It was in the future. What I mean is…well it seemed like it was after my trip to Venice, as if I hadn’t accepted the pocket watch. But you were there too.”

  “Well, thank God, because I can’t imagine ever living without you.” He kissed her.

  “I can’t either. And but for the grace of God, I might have lost you in those first few days.”

  Benedict grinned. “The grace of God and the audacity of Giacomo Casanova.”

  “The things you’ve told me about him are so contrary to the kind of man I’d always thought he was. I know I’ve said it before, but I would like to have met him.”

  “And I know I’ve said it before, but I’m glad you didn’t. The charming bastard might have stolen you away from me.”

  “Not a chance.” She kissed him.

  “Ah, now that’s not the kind of kiss that will convince me of that.”

  “Oh, it isn’t is it? Then how about this one.” She put a hand on his cheek and gave him a scorching kiss.

  “That was much better.”

  She smiled. “What were we talking about?”

  “I think it was about how I’m going to make love to my wife as the sun rises.”

  “That’s a very good idea.”

  A Note from the Author

  I hope you enjoyed this trip to the past with the pocket watch.

  I wanted to share a few tidbits about the historical details of this story, particularly where Giacomo Casanova is concerned.

  When I was trying to figure out how to break Benedict out of jail, I read a book called The Story of My Escape: from the Prisons of the Republic of Venice otherwise known as “The Leads,” written by Casanova in 1788, and translated by Andrew Lawston. It starts with Casanova’s arrest and details both his imprisonment and escape, from his point of view. The book was extremely detailed and occasionally very funny. But the most surprising thing to me was how completely likable Casanova was. If you are interested in learning more about him, I highly recommend reading The Story of My Escape.


  As I read the book, I realized that Casanova’s escape was so incredibly improbable it couldn’t happen twice. So, the way forward seemed obvious—Benedict needed to escape with him. This is where I took a bit of literary license.

  Casanova was arrested by the Venetian Republic and charged with an affront to religion and common decency. He was found guilty, sentenced to five years imprisonment in The Leads. And as unbelievable as the escape I described sounded, it really did happen and I changed very few of the details. The major departure from the real event is when it actually occurred. This portion of The Choice takes place in July and August of 1758. Casanova was arrested on July 26, 1755, and the escape started on October 31, 1756. He walked out of the Doge’s Palace early in the morning on All Saints Day, November 1. So, I adjusted the dates a little.

  Now back to the book. If you declined the pocket watch first and have already read what happens to Sara if she stays in her time, then you know both stories now. I encourage you to click here if you want to read more about me or you’d like to see what other books Duncurra offers.

  If you accepted the pocket watch first, you will want to find out what would have happened if Sara had declined it (What if I Fall in Love). If you wish, you can simply keep reading from here. The story picks up immediately after Gertrude offers the pocket watch to Sara at the end of Chapter 1. But if you would like to start the next story by reading the first chapter again, which I recommend, click on the “link back to Chapter 1” below and it will take you back there. Then, when Sara is offered the pocket watch, simply choose to decline it and that link will bring you to Chapter 2 – What if I Fall in Love, and the rest of the story.

  Link back to Chapter 1

  Chapter 2 – What if I Fall in Love?

  Sara took a deep breath. She had nothing to lose and was on the verge of accepting the pocket watch when a little voice inside her said, What if you fall in love? She would have a heart-rending decision to make. She and Mark loved each other. They had been dating for nearly two years now. Sara even suspected Mark intended to propose to her on this cruise. As much as she wanted to try the pocket watch, she didn’t want to leave him.

  Gertrude nodded sagely. “Ah, ye’re worried about falling in love.”

  “How do you know what I’m thinking?”

  Gertrude shrugged. “It’s a gift. However, if ye’re truly in love now, ye won’t fall for anyone else.”

  “That might be true for most people, but one of the occupational hazards of being a romance author is wanting the happily ever after—wanting to love and be loved. I can imagine getting so caught up in the adventure that I would fall in love with the idea of being in love and misread everything. I have had my heart broken far too many times.”

  “And this time is different? You have found your soul mate?”

  “I think I have. He isn’t like the others. He is so attentive, I feel beautiful and cherished when I am with him. He isn’t afraid to tell me he loves me and I’m certain he does.”

  “Very charming, is he?”

  Sara smiled. “Charming? Yes, I guess he is. He’s my Prince Charming.”

  Gertrude canted her head to one side. “I see. Well, true love isn’t always easily found and it is truly a joy when soulmates connect.”

  “Absolutely. I’m very lucky. So, you understand why I can’t take the watch?”

  “Of course I do, lass. As I said, one way or another, the universe unfolds as it should.” She slipped the watch back in her pocket book and stood. “Well then, it’s time for me to go.”

  Sara stood too, offering the old woman her hand. “It was lovely to meet you.”

  Gertrude took Sara’s hand. “Likewise, my dear.”

  “And thank you for the offer of the pocket watch. It would have been fascinating, but I think I’m making the right choice.”

  Gertrude smiled. “I wish ye and yer intended every happiness.”

  For some reason, Sara felt compelled to hug the woman and when she did, she was effused once more with warmth and contentment. “Thank you, Gertrude.”

  “You’re welcome, pet. Ta ta, now.”

  Gertrude turned to walk towards the Rialto Bridge. She stopped for a moment, looked toward the canal, and waved. Sara glanced in the same direction, but couldn’t tell to whom she had waved. When she turned back to Gertrude, the mysterious old woman had disappeared into the crowd.

  The bells from San Marco began ringing. It was half-past two and Sara needed to get back to Mark. After paying her bill, she crossed the bridge, and found the tiny dark alley that led to their hotel. This alley seemed untouched by time. There was a small shrine to Saint Joseph in a niche about halfway down the passage.

  She smiled to herself. All the talk about time travel had her imagination running wild. What if the ancient alley was actually a time portal that would carry her to some point in Venetian history? “Hey, that could work. That could be my conduit for time travel,” she said aloud to the empty alley.

  Her mind was whirling as she stepped into the hot sunshine in the little square at the other end. She grinned. She was going to write a time-travel novel and very soon one of her characters would be met with a very different site at the other end of this alley. Thank you, Gertrude, for giving me the idea.

  She practically skipped into the hotel.

  The concierge greeted her. “Good afternoon, Signorina Wells. Did you enjoy your morning?” His rich Italian accent transformed the polite greeting into something intimate, almost illicit.

  Sara smiled, certain a man with an Italian accent could read the phonebook and make it sound sexy. “Yes, very much, thanks. We’ll be leaving soon. Can you arrange a water taxi for us?”

  “Mr. Holland has already taken care of that.”

  “Great. Thank you.”

  When she reached their room, Mark was just stepping out of the shower. His hair was wet and tousled and he had a towel wrapped low around his hips.

  He turned towards her and flashed his megawatt smile. “There you are, gorgeous. Right on time. Just give me a minute to dress and we can head to the cruise terminal.”

  “Are you feeling better?”

  “I sure am. Rest and hydration can work wonders.”

  “That’s good to hear.”

  He looked so incredibly sexy and his headache was gone. She glanced at the clock. They had fifteen minutes. She stepped toward him, running her hands up his firm chest. She clasped her fingers behind his neck and pulled his head down so she could kiss him.

  He gave a low throaty moan and returned the kiss.

  She pushed her body against his, making him take a step back towards the bed. She kept nudging him backwards until the backs of his knees touched the bed. Then she pushed him so that he fell backwards onto the bed, taking her with him.

  He kissed her and sliding his hands under her sleeveless silk blouse, he unhooked her bra freeing her breasts. His thumbs rubbing against her nipples lit a flame at her core. He rolled over on the bed, trapping her beneath him.

  She sighed with pleasure.

  Then, he simply stopped. He sat up, straddling her. “I’m sorry to put a stop to this delightful seduction, but we are going to have to pick this up later. We have to get going.”

  “Ugh. We do have time—I packed everything this morning.” She waggled her eyebrows at him. “We can have a bit of quick fun now, and then pick it up later.”

  He kissed her quickly, then climbed off of her. “I don’t want to rush. I want to have you on the edge so many times you will beg me for release.”

  “Mark…”

  He winked at her. “Count this as number one. We’ll aim for ten.”

  “Ten? You’ve lost your mind. That might kill me.” She rolled onto her stomach and stretched.

  He chuckled, giving her backside a playful swat. “Get up and get ready to go, or we’ll make it fifteen.”

  “Okay.” She pushed up on her knees, fastened her bra, and tucked her blouse into her floral skirt. Running her f
ingers through her hair, she moved to sit on the edge of the bed so she could watch Mark dress. He pulled on boxers, kakis, and a white linen shirt that seemed to make his eyes bluer and his skin tanner. He could have just stepped out of an ad in GQ.

  When his shirt was tucked in, he glanced around the room. “Damn, where did I put my shoes?”

  She, too, glanced around. “They probably slid under the bed. I’ll look.” She knelt on the floor and lifted the dust ruffle. “Yup, here they are.” She passed them to him, but as she started to stand, she noticed something on the floor by the bed. “What’s this?”

  She picked it up. “Eww, gross. It’s someone’s condom wrapper.”

  Mark frowned. “Wow, I’m surprised housekeeping missed that. Disgusting. At least it’s not a used condom, but still, it’s absolutely uncalled for. I will make certain the management hears about this.” He held out his hand. “I’ll throw it away, then we have to hit the road…or the canal, I should say.”

  “It’s a shame you didn’t see much of Venice. It really is beautiful.”

  “We’ll come back.” He gave her a quick kiss. “Maybe for our honeymoon. Did you take a lot of pictures?”

  Honeymoon? If he could mention a honeymoon so casually, he must be planning to propose soon. She decided it was best to act cool. “Yeah, I have some really good ones. I’ll show you later.” She picked up one of the suitcases. “Are you ready to go?”