Penelope coloured slightly and shook her head. ‘I don’t want to shock people.’
He grinned. ‘A quick betrothal is not what shocks people. A quick marriage is what initiates gossip. Although I’m anxious on that account too, I’m happy to wait for as long as you deem fit.’
‘We will need to speak to my father first,’ she admitted as she began packing away her paints.
Heath’s grin spread into a wide, lopsided smile. ‘Excellent! I will go to him as soon as I can. Perhaps…’
She paused in her packing away, glancing at Heath. A troubled look flashed across his face. ‘What is it?’
‘Well, I was thinking…’
The sun had set and they were now cloaked in a veil of twilight that wrapped itself around them. Heath’s face was cast in dancing shadows, his eyes hidden and unreadable. The temperature had dropped dramatically, and, glancing up at the sky, Penelope saw a dark, foreboding cloud gathered over the rooftop of Broadhurst Manor.
God’s fingers were gone.
‘What is it?’ she urged, suddenly anxious to get inside.
He reached out and touched her arm, the heat from his fingers sending a current throughout her body. She felt her heart lurch in response, her insides twisting, and she swayed towards him, lips parted. It was as if by one touch he could command her as he wished.
His mouth descended on hers in a fiery heat, like a brand scorched her lips, marking her as his. She dropped her basket, and the contents spilled, forgotten, onto the lawn. Wrapping her arms about his shoulders, she threaded her fingers through his hair and could feel the steady pound of his heart against hers. They were in complete view of everyone at the house, but she didn’t care. She couldn’t think about them; all she could think of was him.
Strong arms wrapped around her, pulling her tight against the hard contours of his body. Strange stirrings in the pit of her belly made her ache for something more.
‘Pene,’ he sighed against her lips, gasping for air. ‘Pene, what have you done to me?’
She smiled. ‘Whatever it is, you have done it to me too, sir.’
He grinned, his mouth twisting beneath hers as he pulled her even closer against him, eliciting from her a gasp. ‘I can’t imagine you are experiencing the same amount of torture I am currently suffering. And if you were, then I’d likely have a few questions for you.’
His words befuddled her; she had no clue to their meaning and could only smile benignly as she bent to scoop up her dropped supplies. Straightening, she looped her arm around his as they made their way towards the manor house, which was now blanketed in the dark cloud. Penelope frowned at it, as if she had the power to will it away.
‘Oh,’ she said suddenly. ‘What was it you wanted to say?’
‘Ah, yes,’ Heath said, and his voice took on a strange intonation, as if he spoke by rote or was making a difficult speech. ‘I was hoping I could arrange a meeting between you and my brother. He’s on leave and visiting our shores soon. Harry has already given him permission to visit Broadhurst.’
Penelope grinned delightedly. ‘Of course! I should be very pleased to make his acquaintance! When are we to expect him?’
‘Within the fortnight,’ Heath replied. ‘I know he will adore you.’
‘You are very sure of me, sir! I do hope I don’t disappoint.’
‘You won’t. I can’t wait for you to meet him.’
Chapter Sixteen
Present day
I arrived at Hurricanes just as the band started to play. It felt weird to be there without Beth or Laura, but since they’d decided to join the ranks of teenage lemmings there was not much I could do about it. I did feel somewhat bad for coming down so heavily on them. After all, it wasn’t really Beth’s fault her mother wanted her to be prom queen, and Laura was only being a good friend.
Still, I felt betrayed by them. Not to mention, a little lonely.
I didn’t know anyone at Hurricanes, although there were a few familiar faces. At least I didn’t feel like an alien or an outsider here.
Pushing my way through the crowd, I secured a spot near the stage with a great view of the band. Hard Candy was an all-girl punk band. I admired their individuality, although it was a little hard to tell the members apart—they dressed from head to toe in black, sleeve tattoos adorning each of their arms. I tried to get a clearer look at the tattoos, searching for ideas. From the time I was young I’d wanted to get a tattoo. I planned to get one as soon as I turned eighteen and didn’t need guardian consent, something Meredith would never give. I just wasn’t sure what design I wanted.
But when I saw the perfect mark, I would know.
Closing my eyes, I lost myself to the music. The atmosphere in the dark, sweaty club was moody and alive, and I wasn’t at all out of place with my short haircut and black makeup—compared to some of the heavily pierced and tattooed clientele, I looked rather tame. For a while I forgot that my best friends were at the Spring dance mixing with the likes of Lilly and Emma and, of course, Marcus.
Instead, I danced. I didn’t care whom I danced with; I just enjoyed myself. After a while, I realised I’d been manoeuvred to the back of the dance floor, near the bar. From this position, hidden behind the crowd and dry ice, I couldn’t see the band anymore, but I didn’t care, feeling too relaxed to care much about anything. Strangely, despite the crowded nightclub with the thumping vibe, I felt a cool breeze start at my feet and wash up through me. Shivering, I looked around, almost expecting to find silver eyes glowering at me in the dim light of the club.
Then I saw him.
Marcus.
Leaning against the bar, he was staring at me intently, his face drawn in a thoughtful frown. I straightened, shocked to see him. He looked completely and ridiculously out of place amongst the gothic crowd, wearing dark denim jeans and a white shirt, not to mention his trendy haircut.
When he saw that I’d noticed him, his face lit up, stretching into a lopsided grin that was too familiar. The heat of his gaze warmed my insides, causing them to give a little, confused flutter, and, without thinking, I pushed through the crowd towards him until I stood right in front of him.
‘What are you doing here?’ I asked, shouting over the music.
‘Looking for you.’
I started at his unexpected answer. My mouth dropped open in surprise, and for the first time, I had absolutely nothing to say. No witty, sharp retort to offer.
‘I don’t know why I’m looking for you, though,’ he muttered after a minute.
I stared at him. ‘What is that supposed to mean?’
He shrugged, frowning again and looking totally confused. ‘I don’t know,’ he said. ‘But honestly, Abbie, I think about you all the time. And I’ve been having these really weird dreams about you.’
My heart leapt into my throat. He’s dreamed about me. The surge of excitement I felt soon vanished, though, when he said a moment later, ‘You’re this weird bird,’ he gave a nervous laugh. ‘It’s always the same. It’s kind of freaking me out.’
A bird?
He wasn’t sharing my dreams about meeting in an English village two hundred years ago; he didn’t remember me at all. My heart sank.
‘Maybe you should leave,’ I said after a moment and turned away. But he grasped my arm, the place where he touched me sizzling. I jerked back, my whole body quaking as if I’d been jolted by a surge of electricity. He felt it too; I could tell by the way his eyes widened and by the way he stared at the spot on my arm.
‘My god,’ he whispered, and something like a dark shadow or a cloud flashed in his eyes. It was gone in a split second, and it was so fleeting that I wondered if perhaps I’d imagined it. ‘We know each other, don’t we?’
‘What?’ I whispered, my voice inaudible above the music.
He staggered back, away from me, blinking in undisguised shock. ‘I just saw you—but somewhere else. What are you?’ He looked at me as if I was a ghost or a demon, as if I repulsed and disgusted him.
Anger bubbled inside me. How dare he come in here and start asking questions, accusing me of things, when it was his fault he didn’t remember anything, his fault that he didn’t suffer the same agonising dreams I did.
How dare he?
I glared at him a moment longer before turning. As I pushed my way through the crowded club, my eyes filled with tears, which I blinked away. There was no way I would shed a tear over him. Bursting through the door, ignoring the curious looks from the doormen, I felt the fresh, cool evening air on my cheeks. Inhaling deeply, I leaned back against the brick wall to steady myself, my thoughts and feelings in a complete whirl.
After a moment, Marcus appeared at my side. ‘Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be rude.’
He spoke with the same stiffness and polite formality I recognised from my dreams. Heath Lockwood at Broadhurst Manor. Despite my anger, I couldn’t resist a smile.
‘I saw a flash of you, but you looked different, and I get the feeling I know you—like, really know you—from somewhere else. But I know I don’t.’ His last statement was more like a question, and it hung in the air between us.
I chose not to answer. Unless I suddenly decided to bare my soul, his question was unanswerable. ‘You should stay away from me,’ I said instead, not looking at him.
‘I’d really like to,’ he admitted with a low chuckle, ‘but I can’t. You intrigue me. Is there anything you want to tell me?’
Again, I ignored his question. Was there anything to tell him? Too much to tell, and none of which I ever wanted to say aloud. ‘I’m not good company to keep.’
‘Says who?’
I looked up at him, my nostrils flaring slightly, my anger resurfacing. ‘Lilly. Emma. Most of the student population at Brookdale High. Ask anyone—I’m the freak everyone avoids.’ My voice was filled with bitterness. I’d been ostracised from my earliest moments at that school, Lilly my main tormentor.
Marcus fell silent, deliberating his words before he spoke. ‘I think that’s more your doing than theirs.’
I stared at him open-mouthed.
He’d been there a week and had already managed to secure himself the position of Mr Popularity and get a date with Lilly Hamilton, the odds-on favourite for prom queen. He didn’t know what it was like to be plagued by demons, to be odd, weird, different. Someone like Marcus, with his floppy hair and big, brown eyes, would never know what it was like to suffer nightmares that were terrifyingly real. He could never possibly understand what it was like to be me, hunted through time.
‘When I touched you,’ he continued, speaking mostly to himself, ‘I felt you spark. Like you’re made of electricity, not flesh and bone. It was incredible. And you looked completely different, like you were in fancy dress or something.’
‘Not a bird?’ I asked wryly.
He shook his head. ‘Not a bird.’
Silence. I wasn’t going to tell him anything; I’d learned long ago to keep my mouth firmly shut with regard to my dreams. Telling people about them was a sure-fire way to alienate everyone. I’d told my parents and look where they were now—anywhere but near me, their freak of a daughter.
‘You should go,’ I repeated quietly.
He grinned. ‘I came to see you. So I’m not going to just leave.’
A sudden thought struck me. ‘Where’s your date? Didn’t you go to the Spring dance?’
‘Yeah, I went,’ he admitted, ‘but when I saw Beth, well, she told me where you were so I came here.’
‘What about…’ I couldn’t bring myself to say her name.
‘I made sure she could get home safe.’
I giggled, imagining how furious Lilly would be if she knew Marcus had left her to come find me.
‘What’s up between you two, anyhow?’ Marcus asked, as if following my thoughts. ‘Why does she hate you so much?’
I shrugged. Why did Lilly hate me so much? I wasn’t sure. Maybe it was because I was different. Maybe it was because Lilly was insecure and needed to lash out. Maybe she was just a bitch.
‘Well, she hates you, that’s for sure,’ Marcus said wryly when it became apparent I wasn’t going to answer. ‘But whatever. Should we go? My car’s just down the street.’
‘I can catch the bus,’ I said tightly. Penelope’s infatuation was still coursing in my veins, and I wasn’t sure I trusted myself to be alone in a car with Marcus. Look at the effect he had on Penelope, and that was two hundred years ago, when a girl was more protective of her virtue.
‘C’mon, Abbie, I live right next door,’ he said, his voice tinged with annoyance. ‘There’s no reason to take the bus when I can drive you. Besides, the bus at night can be dangerous.’
I pulled a can of pepper spray from my bag. ‘I have this. Besides, I’m scarier than anything on the bus.’
He tilted his head and considered me. ‘You know, you aren’t as scary as you think. You’re kind of tiny. And cute. A bit like a fairy or a pixie,’ he smiled, and I felt my heart lurch. ‘C’mon little pixie girl, I’m taking you home.’
Chapter Seventeen
1806
‘Heath, I thought we might head back to London for a few days,’ Harry announced. ‘It’s getting a little dreary around here, don’t you think? And I’m sure your brother would much prefer to spend his leave in London than in a little country village.’
Penelope dropped her fork and looked up, startled, her eyes meeting Heath’s.
‘I don’t think it’s dreary here at all,’ Heath replied easily. ‘I find it highly entertaining. And my brother will be looking forward to resting after his adventures. I’m sure he’ll enjoy the country.’ He winked at Penelope and she felt slightly appeased.
‘Really?’ Harry looked around as if to see what the fuss was about. ‘Well, I have some business in London, so I must go. Are you actually happy to stay here? I’ll only be a few days.’
‘You are more than welcome to stay,’ Georgina said quickly, ‘for as long as you like. We shall make you feel very welcome, won’t we, Penelope?’
Penelope blushed, picking up her fork. She felt as though her infatuation was displayed clearly on her face for the whole world to see, though she was yet to speak to her father.
‘I shall be happy to stay,’ Heath smiled, ‘thank you very much.’
‘And I’ll go off and have a fine time in London,’ Harry countered. ‘A very fine time.’
After dinner the party made their way to the parlour. Heath walked closely beside Penelope, his hand resting possessively on the small of her back.
‘I will have to leave shortly,’ he murmured in her ear. ‘I really can’t stay and rely on the Broadhurst’s hospitality for much longer.’
‘It has only been a few weeks,’ Penelope replied, feeling panicked at the thought of him leaving. ‘Surely you don’t have to leave yet? I know Georgina and Harry both enjoy your company, and I, of course…’ Her message was clear. ‘Plus, you have your brother visiting soon.’
‘I don’t want to leave, Penelope,’ he assured her, ‘but I must for a while. I’ll have to return to Cambridge at some stage; I cannot delay my studies indefinitely.’
‘But you will come back?’
He tweaked her chin, grinning down at her. ‘Of course I will.’
‘Penelope and Heath, what are you two talking about?’ Georgina called, interrupting their brief moment. ‘Are you interested in playing cards with Harry and me, or do you prefer your own party?’
Penelope smiled and went to take a seat opposite Georgina, deliberately not answering. Did she prefer their own party? Oh yes, very much so.
Heath took the seat beside her and they joined the card game, shooting covert glances each to each other all night and their feet bumping beneath the table. Every time he touched her, either on purpose or accidentally, Penelope felt a delicious thrill.
‘Mrs Priscopp called by today,’ Georgina announced, playing her hand, ‘to inform us that her Anne plans to visit this week.’
‘That’s nice,�
� Penelope commented dryly.
‘Nice for Mrs Priscopp, at least,’ Georgina added, not bothering to hide her derision. ‘We shall be expected to receive her, so I propose we have a picnic this weekend, if the weather is fine.’
‘It has been fine forever, it seems,’ Harry observed. ‘Very strange for this time of year.’
‘That’s a grand idea,’ Penelope said. ‘Will you be back from London in time, Harry?’
Harry made a face. ‘We’ll see. Although, I’m in no hurry to meet Mrs Priscopps’ niece again. I don’t have fond memories of her. Has she changed much?’
‘Not at all,’ Georgina remarked. ‘She is exactly the same, worse, I fear.’
‘Is that Anne Priscopp you are talking of?’ asked Heath.
‘Yes,’ replied Georgina, ‘do you know her?’
Heath nodded. ‘Yes, although not very well. She’s acquainted with my brother.’
‘Your brother? Why, how amazing. I wonder how she would know your brother, hasn’t he been away at sea?’ Penelope asked casually, desperate for any information on Heath’s family. He spoke so rarely of them.
‘He’s been in Spain for several months,’ he replied, ‘but often calls into London. I’m looking forward to introducing you.’
‘I look forward to it, too,’ Penelope smiled, warming beneath Heath’s eyes.
Georgina raised an eyebrow, her voice low and humorous. ‘I fear your brother is coming here simply to meet Penelope. I do so hope we receive an introduction too. After all, is he not staying with us?’
Heath laughed. ‘Forgive me. Of course I’m looking forward to you all meeting my brother.’ He winked at Penelope.
‘Is he much older than you?’ Penelope asked.
‘Not quite five years. I think our parents had given up all hope of having any more children before I arrived. I was only twelve when they died, and Sebastian just a young man, already signed to the navy. He tended to me though; he made sure I was properly educated and cared for. I have a great deal of respect for him.’
It was the most Heath had ever talked about his family, and Penelope felt inclined to ask more questions, but she thought it best to wait until they were alone. She wanted to know everything about him, to share all of him.
Time After Time Page 10
