Time After Time

by Wendy Godding

‘I like shocking people. And some people shock easier than others.’

  Simone looked at me hard for a moment, the colour in her cheeks fading slightly. ‘I see. Will you be okay? It’s quiet anyway. And Daniel’s here if you need him.’

  I glanced over to where Daniel sat completely absorbed in a computer game. ‘Gee, thanks.’

  ‘Be good, Abbie!’

  ‘Get laid, Simone!’

  I spent the evening reading various reincarnation websites, but I didn’t learn anything new. What more was there to know? There wasn’t any evidence of the phenomenon despite the various kooks and mystics who suggested it was real.

  Curiously, I switched over to Google and typed ‘Penelope Broadhurst’. I didn’t really expect there to be any hits and wasn’t surprised when all I got was an obituary for a woman who died a few years ago. No Penelope Broadhurst from 1806—if that was even when I’d died. Although I was pretty sure about the date. With Sebastian closing in, Penelope wouldn’t have had long.

  Hopefully, Penelope had never known what happened and was spared from feeling the final moments of her life when Sebastian sprung like a lurking lion and tore the life from her. I wished that for Penelope more than anything.

  Having waved Daniel goodbye, I was locking up when Marcus sauntered in. He looked gorgeous in dark denim jeans and a black t-shirt, the Foo Fighters logo splashed across its front.

  Flashing his lopsided smile at me, his brown eyes crinkling at their corners, he brushed a fallen lock of hair off his forehead. I couldn’t take my eyes off him; he was completely and utterly mesmerising.

  ‘Hey,’ he said. ‘Meredith said you were working. You finished?’

  ‘Uh-huh.’

  ‘Need a lift home?’

  ‘I can catch the bus.’

  ‘You don’t need to.’

  ‘I want to.’

  ‘You want to catch the bus?’ He looked at me, his expression hurt.

  ‘Uh-huh.’

  ‘C’mon, Abbie, why are you being difficult?’ He sighed, rolling his eyes.

  Because I want to know who your brother is, I wanted to say, but I didn’t. ‘I suppose I could use a lift.’

  ‘You just want to ride in my red sports car,’ he teased, pretending to look offended.

  ‘Well, it is pretty hot.’

  ‘You know, I could charge for the ride,’ he drawled playfully. He rubbed his hand across his chest thoughtfully, drawing my eyes to where his heart beat and to his hard muscles rippling beneath the thin shirt. I swallowed hard.

  ‘What’s the price?’

  ‘How much you got?’

  I made my eyes round and feigned distress, summoning as much of Penelope as I could. Her sweetness, her innocence. ‘Maybe you can do me a deal?’

  He considered it, the corners of his lips twitching. ‘A kiss?’

  I licked my lips involuntarily. ‘You have yourself a deal.’ And I willingly paid the price. My fingers curled in his t-shirt, holding him close as his mouth twisted against mine. Truth be told, I would have paid a much higher price than a mere kiss.

  A thought that terrified me.

  He waited for me to lock up, then flung his arm around my shoulders, walking me across the parking lot. His was the only car there, and he’d parked under the looming, artificial light of a street lamp. ‘Abbie. I wanted to say sorry.’

  ‘For?’

  ‘For not letting you meet my brother,’ he explained. ‘I’ve been pretty selfish really. But I know when you meet him…’

  ‘What?’ I urged, swallowing hard.

  ‘Well, he has this way,’ Marcus paused. ‘He has this way of always getting what he wants. And you’re my little pixie girl. Not his.’

  I didn’t know what to say, so I said nothing. He leaned down and pressed his lips against mine. ‘And I’m sorry about your painting.’

  ‘Me too.’

  ‘I know how much the parsonage meant to you.’

  I stared at him. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Huh?’

  I stammered over the words. ‘How do you know how much the parsonage means?’

  ‘Because I’ve seen how much time and effort you’ve put into it, because…’ He paused, a thoughtful look on his face.

  I watched him carefully, noting the slight movement of a muscle in his cheek. ‘Because?’

  ‘Because I just know.’ He shrugged.

  I sucked in a sharp breath.

  He remembered. I knew it, even though he didn’t. He remembered our life together, however brief it may have been. I was sure. It was hidden in his eyes, just below the surface of his subconscious.

  Reaching up, I touched his face, his jaw, felt the warm blood that pulsed just beneath the surface of his skin. I wanted to tell him everything, explain everything, and explain why he liked me so much when it went against everything that made sense.

  He didn’t like me because I was me. He liked me because I was Penelope. And despite being born in another country in another century, with no memories of his past life…

  He was Heath.

  I wanted to tell him all of this, but I couldn’t. The words stuck in my throat and I couldn’t get them out; they had been hidden deep within me for so long. Could I even trust Marcus? I wasn’t sure.

  Opening his car door, I climbed in, my thoughts and feelings a complete jumble, all of them mixing and blurring together and none of them making any sense.

  Climbing in beside me, Marcus pulled me across the seat to him, pressing his mouth down on mine, his hands wandering deliciously over my body.

  By the time we’d pulled apart, I’d forgotten everything I’d wanted to say.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  1806

  ‘Have you ever seen anyone with less decorum? Honestly, the girl has no integrity whatsoever.’

  Penelope followed Ellen’s gaze across the room to where Anne, Mrs Priscopp’s niece, flirted with both Heath and Sebastian. It was difficult to tell which brother Anne preferred, but Penelope wasn’t worried about Heath. She knew his feelings for her to be steadfast, and Sebastian, well, Anne was welcome to him.

  ‘Maybe she’ll secure Sebastian and they will both leave town,’ she muttered, looking away as Anne laughed a little too giddily.

  ‘You can’t be serious,’ Ellen said. ‘She’d be your sister-in-law. And I doubt that even then she’d stop flirting with Heath. Honestly, how can Mrs Priscopp not see what she is?’

  ‘Because when you love someone you see only what you want to see,’ Penelope replied, her words more loaded than she intended. ‘You see only the good.’

  ‘I used to think that about you, dear Penelope,’ Ellen said, arching an eyebrow at her friend. ‘That you saw only the good in people. But I’m learning that isn’t entirely true.’

  ‘How so?’ asked Georgina, joining their small group.

  They were in the ballroom at Broadhurst Manor. Georgina was throwing an impromptu dance, inviting most of the families from Broadhurst and a few from the neighbouring towns. Unfortunately, she’d had no choice but to invite Mrs Priscopp and her self-important niece. If there had been any way around it, Georgina would have found it.

  ‘It seems Penelope doesn’t like her soon-to-be brother-in-law,’ Ellen informed Georgina, ignoring the frown Penelope gave her.

  ‘That’s not true,’ Penelope interposed. ‘I do like him. He is Heath’s only family after all. He just makes me feel…’ She searched for the right word. Shaken? Scared? Unsure? Confused? Those were all words she could apply to the myriad of feelings he aroused, and yet none of them was quite right.

  Georgina watched her closely. ‘I’d noticed you hadn’t taken to him. Perhaps you find him too good-looking?’

  ‘No,’ Penelope replied, her dark blush belying her words.

  Ellen giggled. ‘I know that I completely forget everything in my head when he’s close. But he hardly pays me any attention at all.’

  ‘He’s certainly paying Anne a great deal of attention now,’ Georgina
observed dryly. ‘Although she demands it. Honestly, that girl!’

  ‘Shush, Georgina, leave her be,’ Penelope said, glancing to the group on the other side of the room. Sebastian was leering at Anne, his gaze dipping often to her half-exposed bosom, obviously enjoying the view. Penelope felt somewhat miffed. After all the attention he’d shown her during the last week, here he was now, fawning over a girl who was nothing more than a renowned flirt.

  Then Penelope’s eyes caught Heath’s, her heart leaping to her throat, and all jealous thoughts of Sebastian scattered to the back of her mind.

  Heath’s eyes were dark and hooded, and even from across the room she could see amber burning within them. He smiled, the grin sliding slowly and lazily across his face.

  Penelope trembled, the heat from his gaze quivering through her to warm even her toes.

  Suddenly, she became aware of muffled giggles, and she looked around to find Georgina and Ellen convulsing in laughter.

  ‘What is it?’ she frowned at them.

  ‘You, Penelope!’ Georgina laughed, her voice low so as not to attract attention. ‘Do you not know how you and Heath look at one another? It’s as if there are only the two of you in the room!’

  Penelope blushed, feeling as if an intimate moment had been trespassed upon and spoiled.

  ‘Everyone can see you staring at one another,’ Ellen added, ‘And look at Sebastian.’

  Penelope did, her eyes finding him across the room where he now danced with Anne. She didn’t even have to search for him; she automatically knew where he was.

  He didn’t look pleased.

  His dark grey eyes glowered at her, and his mouth was drawn in a thin, straight line of disapproval. He moved with Anne, who gazed adoringly up at him, but didn’t even glance at her, his eyes fixed on Penelope.

  ‘I think you have not one, but two admirers,’ Georgina said before she accepted the offer to dance by a local gentleman, ‘and brothers at that.’

  Ellen looked delighted. ‘Which one shall you choose, Penelope?’

  ‘There’s no choice,’ Penelope muttered, her face aflame. ‘I’m engaged to Heath.’

  But her eyes again found their way to the dark silver eyes that watched her ever so carefully.

  Penelope did her best to ignore Anne, but it was difficult when the girl followed the Lockwood brothers like a faithful lapdog.

  ‘How do you find country life, Sebastian, after the thrilling adventures you must have had abroad?’ Anne asked.

  ‘I find country life most pleasant,’ he responded easily, ‘Most pleasant indeed.’ His eyes never wavered from Penelope as he spoke.

  ‘Oh tush, you must find it somewhat boring? Having been in London I know it to be exceedingly dull.’

  ‘Not dull, no.’ Sebastian refused to be drawn into Anne’s conversation, and Penelope wouldn’t look at him.

  Instead, she gazed out the window over the darkened grounds of Broadhurst. The moon hung like a silvery orb in the sky, glowing full and perfectly round, and the inky, cloudless night sky was splattered with a million stars.

  ‘Penelope?’ It was Heath, his voice warm and soft in her ear.

  ‘I was just thinking what a beautiful night it is,’ she murmured, gazing at him.

  ‘Would you like to walk outside?’ he asked.

  Nodding, she looped her arm around his and followed him out of the massive doors of the ballroom.

  ‘You should paint Broadhurst at night,’ Heath commented as they walked through the gardens. ‘There is something beautiful and almost peaceful about it under the stars.’

  Penelope looked around, seeing the darkened lawns, the lingering shadows, the way the flickering light from the manor house danced on the carefully manicured gardens. Her eyes fell on the rosebush where she’d spied the orange rose all those weeks ago. The bush was barren now.

  ‘I’ve never thought to paint it at night,’ she replied, ‘but the moon does look beautiful hovering over the house. Maybe I shall.’

  Heath stepped in front of her and stopped, towering over her, his face both half-hidden and half-illuminated by moonlight. Penelope’s breath caught in her throat as he lowered his lips to hers, kissing her both tenderly and heatedly at the same time. Leaning against him, she wound her arms around his neck, pulling him closer, feeling a sudden and great need to have him claim her as his own. To mark her as his in some impossible way.

  She deepened the kiss, feeling him react as she thrust her tongue within his mouth and gently bit his bottom lip. She pulled him down to her, crushing herself against his body. The ache in her belly was burning and spreading throughout her body, building to a quivering need that she had no idea how to satiate. She knew only that she wanted more, yearned for more, and needed it desperately, now…

  Heath pulled back.

  She gasped, and leaned against him, wanting him back, needing him closer, but his arms held her from him. ‘Penelope?’

  Suddenly, she felt ashamed and her face flushed crimson. Thank goodness for the dark, she thought. What must he think of me?

  ‘Oh,’ was all she said, and she turned her face away, trembling.

  ‘God, Pene, what you do to me,’ he sighed, and he drew her close to him, not kissing her this time but crushing her to his chest.

  She let him hold her and stared out over the lawn, towards the manor house. She blinked. Someone was in the shadows of the large columns. She was sure of it.

  Straightening, she stared across the expanse of lawn, trying to see clearly whom it was. It looked like Jane Smith, and she was beckoning to her.

  Penelope frowned. Jane had been nodding at her and making eye contact since starting to work at Broadhurst Manor, but Penelope was hardly interested in what she, or her pagan mother, had to say. It was all superstitious nonsense.

  ‘There you are.’ Sebastian appeared behind them and they pulled apart hastily. ‘Penelope promised me the next dance.’

  She looked up at Sebastian’s face, which glowered at her accusingly, as if she’d done something wrong. ‘I don’t recall…’ She hadn’t promised Sebastian any such thing; she had avoided him all evening.

  ‘You promised,’ he said, his voice hard and cutting.

  ‘We’ll be right in,’ Heath told his brother.

  ‘I can escort Penelope,’ Sebastian proffered his arm, but she shrank back, stepping closer to Heath. Feeling safer near him.

  ‘If you’ll excuse me, Sebastian,’ she said, her voice catching on his name, ‘I’m feeling a little faint.’

  He stepped closer, towering over her and making her feel as small and vulnerable as she had that first day she’d seen him on the hill. ‘Are you okay?’ His anxious eyes searched her face.

  She nodded but couldn’t speak.

  ‘Perhaps I could get you something?’ Heath asked. ‘A drink, maybe?’

  ‘Yes,’ Sebastian replied before she could, ‘a drink would help. Thank you, Heath.’

  Heath hesitated for a moment before leaving to fetch her a drink. Leaving her alone, in the shadows of the garden. With Sebastian. Penelope watched him walk away, her distress mounting with each step he took.

  Sebastian stepped closer. ‘Becca, what are you doing out here with him?’

  ‘Don’t call me that,’ she whispered.

  ‘You shouldn’t let him touch you or kiss you,’ he said, his voice low and warning.

  She swallowed hard, her whole body trembling. ‘He’s my fiancé.’

  ‘I can change that in an instant,’ he told her, ‘and I would with one word.’

  ‘He’s your brother.’

  ‘You’re my only concern. Not him.’

  A breeze whipped past her and her body swayed towards him of its own accord.

  ‘Pene…’ His cool fingers lifted her chin, tilting her face up to meet his eyes, which shimmered like shards of ice. He was so close she could hear the beat of his heart and feel his cool breath on her cheek.

  ‘Here we are,’ called Heath, returning with refreshment
s, ‘I hope you aren’t falling ill.’

  She stepped back from Sebastian, taking the drink from Heath and sipping it gratefully. ‘I’m sure I’ll be fine.’

  ‘Just a little too much excitement, maybe?’ Sebastian suggested.

  Heath laughed, oblivious to the tension between the two. ‘Yes. Perhaps that’s all it is, Pene? Too much excitement?’

  She nodded and smiled, sipping the drink but not looking at Heath, and not looking at Sebastian. Her mind was a tumult of emotions, her heart catching in her throat.

  Chapter Thirty

  Present day

  Beth sent a text on Saturday night to let me know she was running late. Her mother had finally put her foot down and refused to let her out of the house until she changed her outfit. I glanced over at Meredith curled up on the lounge, a glass of wine on the coffee table and a chick flick playing on the television. Suddenly, I was very grateful for my easygoing aunt.

  I sent a text to Marcus to let him know. He replied immediately, inviting me to his house while we waited for our ride, and a few minutes later I stood on the step ringing the Knight’s doorbell. It was only a few weeks ago that Meredith had dragged me, against my will, next door to do the very same. Now I was here voluntarily and with a thrill in my heart. So much had changed since then.

  The door opened to reveal Marcus beaming at me.

  ‘Hi, pixie girl,’ he said, his voice and endearment warming my insides.

  I allowed my eyes to roam over him, letting them run freely over his lean, black-clad figure, taking in the broad shoulders, well-defined chest and narrow hips. Taking note of the way his hair fell across one eye, how the corners of his lips twisted upward. I sighed; he really was perfect.

  ‘Do you mind if my brother comes with us tonight?’ Marcus said, his voice casual. ‘You said you wanted to meet him.’

  I shrugged, my heart leaping to my throat as I found my voice. ‘Sure.’

  ‘Are you sure?’ he queried curiously, watching me closely.

  I nodded, following him upstairs. I paused in the doorway of his bedroom, looking around. Marcus’ room was so neat and tidy that I felt a stab of guilt as I recalled my own disorganised, chaotic room. In fact, his was so tidy that it was almost unnatural, like no one lived there.