Raven knew something wasn’t right, hell she knew a lot wasn’t right but she told herself it was a simple daydream, nothing more. So she went with it. His mouth found her taut nipple. He suckled it, his tongue swirling around the peak. She shuddered, and clenched, as emotions tore through her body, just like they had done with Reed…Reed.
Wait this was not Reed. Who was this person? Granted he looked a lot like Reed, but his hair was longer, and he was different. She opened her eyes once more, no, not in a bad way at all, but still he was not Reed. And sure she was turned on, but not as much as she was with Reed, or was she…he kissed her neck, moving lower. Oh, but he was close…would it be so bad? “Marguerite….” he breathily whispered, against her flesh as he pulled her firmly back against his growing arousal…she let herself go, close to the brink, his fingers delving lower… Wait… who in the hell was Marguerite?
She dropped the pendant to the floor, it landed with a dull thud. The vision faded.
The wind brings change
RAVENHURST * THE AGE OF CHIVALRY
MARGUERITE stood on the battlements, looking across the horizon. A lone raven soared across the expanse of the sky, climbing higher, and then disappearing into the folds of a white billowy cloud. Was it alone, or free? She wondered, thinking maybe it was a little of both. It would seem she was at a crossroads. She had despised this place for so long, but in a way this was her home, was this where she was destined to spend her days or was this just another stop on her journey through time?
Obviously if she had her way, she would stay with Darias until the end of her days. He was her soul mate. She knew this absolute fact, the same, as she knew the sun would rise and set each day, but was that going to be enough to keep her here, with him? “Oh take it!” She didn’t know.
She had become a captive, a slave, to her wants, her own selfish heart. And now she was afraid to be out of his sight for too long. Afraid she may disappear and never see him again. Thinking about it only made her even more afraid. Afraid of what would become of her if he was not around. Maybe Darias was right, maybe she only needed to get some sunlight, to bolster her mood, to get rid of the melancholy that seemed to be closing in on her. She blamed the amulet; the uncertainty of it was driving her to distraction. And of course the girl, the one with the vibrant head of hair, the one with the weird colored eyes, watching her every move. Marguerite had tried to speak with her, but the girl shut her down with an evil glare that sent chills swiftly racing across her skin making gooseflesh rise.
Marguerite had learned some lessons were learned the hard way. Keep your friends close, but if possible, keep your enemies closer. Devlin had taught her that lesson well, not that it did much good, since Judith, his whore, had tried to take her out. Bitch.
Apparently, she should have become better friends with the girl, Judith, and not Devlin at all. It worked out well enough she supposed. At least she didn’t have to marry the prig Sebastian, Isabelle’s self-absorbed nephew. She wondered if he even realized she had disappeared. Knowing Sebastian, he was probably too drunk to even notice. That was his way. Drink. Drink. And drink some more, like he could find the answers to all his problems in the bottom of a bottle. What a dolt.
Isabelle wasn’t much better: her so-called guardian. Marguerite never did hear the full story of the secret bond Isabelle and her mother Victoria had shared. The mother Marguerite had never really known. She let out another deflated sigh; you really cannot miss someone who was never there in the first place. Oh, her mother had been there in body, although Marguerite had never even really seen her. She kept herself closeted away like some dark secret.
The servants whispered she was not right in the head; Marguerite didn’t know if that was true or not. At night though, every once in a while she would hear things. Things that would make her blood run cold. She was later told that the noises had come from her mother. That the tenuous hold she had on her sanity had finally snapped and left her completely insane. Shortly after that Marguerite was told to gather her things, which she needed to leave.
On that dark dreary night when the carriage that held her and all her worldly possessions pulled away from the gloomy place she had called home for a few short years she could see the outline of a woman up in one of the rooms. A dim light cast behind her, illuminating her. The face she saw was not a beautiful one. No, it was not the face she expected at all, the one that everyone who mattered to her said belonged to her mother. No, her mother’s face was quite the opposite. Ghastly, grotesque, not beautiful at all, her mother looked like a monster. It tormented her dreams long after that night, and still would if she let it.
She had many such monsters visiting her dreams while she slept, lingering in her subconscious to torment her once she fell into the dark embrace of slumber. The ones with a man in a long flowing cloak carrying a knife. Images of the bloodied blade of a guillotine, with a screaming mob, was running a close second, lying in wait to torment her when she closed her eyes. Yes, she battled those monsters every time she closed her eyes. Yet she had conquered them each and every time.
And what of Katherine, the other girl, the one that sent her spiraling through time, what had become of her? Oh yes, Marguerite knew exactly who she was. What she didn’t know was what had happened to her. Was it even important? She thought not, but then again she had thought a lot of things weren’t important, like the book she had found. The ancient one with the strange writing, and hand gilded pages. The one she had hid. Did that have some hidden power as well? It had been with the amulet when she found it in the secret room. The one that was constantly locked, which no one thought she knew about. Right, well she had picked that lock. A silly lock wasn’t going to keep her out. Not when her only alternative was to marry Sebastian, which was the last thing she had wanted to do.
Of course, she had avoided her predetermined destiny. Now she was in the same place but in a different time altogether. Was she always supposed to be here? Was this where fate intended her to be?
Now, though, since she had been back, with Darias by her side, her dreams were not plagued by nightmares at all. Instead, they were filled with the moments she spent with him, in his arms, his fingers caressing, his lips seeking hers out, his body melding to her own. She had bigger monsters to battle now, her own insecurities about whether she was good enough for him, whether he could ever love her the way she wanted—needed to be loved. If only he could open his heart to her as he once had, so long ago, when she first encountered him. Maybe then she would feel differently.
She sighed heavily and looked towards the setting sun. It was a strange shade of red combined with orange, which reminded Marguerite of another time. She turned her head to the side, tapping her finger on her chin. “Yes,” she said aloud as she remembered. The sun was the exact shade as Mrs. Trubers peach marmalade, the one she made for scones every Sunday for brunch and for teatime. She wished she had some scones now. No, no she did not. “I do not wish for scones,” she said aloud, just to be sure, remembering the last time she had seen the sun this color.
MEMORY
The tall blades of grass glistened with evening mist, darkening the hem of her cloak and gown, as she walked purposefully away, dashing angry hot tears from her face. She fancied the sun to be a giant glob of marmalade that would soon be swallowed completely by the darkness of night. She wished it would swallow Isabelle as well.
Even thinking of Mrs. Trubers delicious peach marmalade couldn’t brighten her day, thanks to Isabelle. The amulet hung heavily between her breasts, swaying wildly with the pace she kept. She grabbed it in her hand to stop the movement, tears clogging her throat. She clasped the amulet in her hand wishing to be anywhere but the place she found herself at the moment. She wished to be with someone who would love her for just the way she was, she wished for her very own dashing, knight in shining armor. The kind she read about every evening in her romantic fiction novels that she kept hidden away in the back of her bureau.
That is when it happened, i
n that one breathless moment of wishing to be anywhere than where she found herself. She was transported to another time and place.
She reopened her eyes as the memory slipped away. It wasn’t important anymore, he was. She bit her lip, staring down in the open field off to her right as Darias trained with his men. The stonewall was rough under her fingers as she watched him—his long, sinfully dark hair twisting in the wind, his movements poetry in motion. Swift. Accurate. Lethal.
The sharp sound of metal striking metal rang out loud and clear, carried forth by the wind. She shivered and pulled her cloak closer to her body. She had an uneasy feeling, a premonition.
The surrounding area darkened suddenly. Marguerite could no longer see Darias or his men. She felt something behind her though; instinctively she gripped the stone under her fingers harder, nearly drawing blood from the tips. She was grabbed from behind; her body lifted up off the ground in one fluid motion. She gripped the stone harder, her fingers beginning to bleed—visions of her body thrown from the battlements invaded her mind. “Nooo…” she cried out, her body carried further into the darkness.
Mistaken Identity
RAVENHURST * PRESENT DAY
WHO in the hell was Marguerite? That question rolled over on itself in Ravens mind. After her strangely arousing daydream/fantasy with the mysterious dark stranger who looked a lot like Reed, she had packed up her stuff and headed back to her room. Not surprisingly, she had also promptly taken a cold shower.
She glanced over at the bed, the fiery stone of the necklace sparkled even from this distance. She wondered if the stone had made her visualize the naughty scene with a complete stranger. And what did that say about her, that she so readily indulged in a fantasy with such a man?
She knew what it was. She was hard up, sexually frustrated. Her mind probably conjured the scene because of her hurt feelings from Reed’s rejection.
Nothing made sense. She had visions when she touched Reed as well, but she wasn’t in them per say. The girl with the longhaired crazy hot barbarian was a waif.
Now that she thought about it, they did share some similarities. She sat down in the chair and laughed. Apparently, we all have the same taste—hot men. Ha! She snorted with laughter, feeling ridiculous but laughing just the same. “Now that’s classic Raven…just classic.” Her giggling fit subsided and she lowered her hands, her gaze straying back over to the necklace on the bed. It was so pretty. She wanted to wear it again. Of course, she probably shouldn’t but she argued the point over in her mind. How could she really be sure that she was not the girl in the vision, that it had been another girl? She would need to know something like that wouldn’t she? Granted she had no idea why she should feel what the other girl felt but…
A knock sounded at the door.
“Yes,” she called out as she rushed over to cover the necklace with a pillow.
The door creaked open. “I have your meal Miss.”
On cue Ravens stomach gurgled, or moaned, either way she wanted to poke it, make it stay quiet. Of course, that wouldn’t work so she merely watched from the sidelines as the maid readied the table and adjusted the chair towards the television set.
The maid straightened and ran her hands over the front of her dress. It was an ugly uniform. Dark gray and hung like a bag that went past her knees with a bright white full apron that hung over her shoulders and tied around her back. She had on black tights as well and black, flat sensible shoes which looked orthopedic. The entire outfit was very dreary, depressing even. Her wispy blonde hair was pulled back into a small ponytail. Raven had to smile, because she did manage a way to make up for all the drab. Her lips had bright red lipstick on them and her eyes done up with heavy liner on the lid. It really pulled the entire outfit from drabs -Ville to a runway version of a maid’s uniform - she made it chic.
“Miss the um, butler, um Mister Milford asked me to bring these up to you.” She smiled sheepishly and moved out from in front of the tray.
Raven felt her face crumble and her lip start to quiver. There was a single perfect red rose in a glass, a small box of chocolates with a bottle of wine. She lifted her fingers to her mouth and looked at the girl once more.
“Also Miss, I brought this up for you as well.” She lowered her voice, “It’s mine.” She smiled and leaned in. “I know when I have a problem with men,” she whispered lifting her hand to the side of her mouth. “I always say to myself, Maggie so what. He doesn’t deserve you. Of course, it still hurts a bit until I start to read one of these.” She pulled a worn paperback out of her skirt and handed it to Raven.
Words eluded Raven. She was so touched. She took the book from the maid. Tears welled in her eyes, making everything blur around her. She tried to choke them back, swallowing hard.
“Then once I start reading, I get swept away in another world and before I know it I start to feel better and realize he wasn’t worth my tears at all.” She finished by nodding her head and then she winked at Raven in a conspiratorial manner.
Raven could find no words. She took a breath, trying to keep her tears at bay. The girl rushed over and gave her a quick hug. That was it. The damn broke. Tears streamed down her face.
“There, there now, don’t you cry,” Maggie the maid cooed sweetly, patting her on her back.
Raven got herself under control and sniffled loudly. “I do not know what to say, I mean how to say.”
“No worries,” Maggie the maid said as she pulled out a tissue and handed it out to her. “We girls have to stick together.”
Raven nodded her head up and down and wiped her eyes. “Thank you.”
Maggie the maid smiled. “Keep the book for as long as you like. I am with a better guy now and won’t need it back for a while. We’re getting married this weekend and I’ll be too busy to read…if you know what I mean.” She winked again for good measure.
Raven smiled at her, her tears abating. “I am so happy for you.”
“Well I better get along, now go on, and eat your supper before it gets cold,” she said and walked across the room.
“Thanks Maggie. I am Raven, by the way.”
She paused at the door, “Raven, now that’s a nice name. I like it.” She smiled and nodded her head.
“Thanks, I like yours too,” Raven called out as Maggie the maid shut the door quietly behind her.
Raven lifted the book. “A Knight in Shining Armor”… perfect.
Something Wicked
RAVENHURST * THE AGE OF CHIVALRY
DARIAS took the stairs two at a time, his heart pounding unnaturally. He shoved past his men, completely ignoring their startled exclamations. Something was wrong. He could feel it in his bones. Gripping his sword tightly in his hand, he had left the field the moment the darkness descended. It was an omen. He did not call the darkness this time as he had so many other times in the past, before battle. No, this was different. The darkness was not on his side this time. It was against him, stealing his sight.
He ran further into the shadows of the keep, up the passageway to the battlements. The cold gusts of wind slammed against him, pressing him back as soon as his body made it through the opening once he reached the top. His eyes searched the darkness, but he could not see. He was blinded by the very thing that had helped him so many times in the past. “Marguerite” he yelled frantically. “Answer me love…” He tried to keep the edge from his voice, the worry, but it did no good, she wasn’t answering him. His voice shook as he called out once more, trying to feel his way forward.
A hand clasped over her mouth, stopping her from crying out. She struggled, kicking her feet, pulling every trick she had ever learned for survival. The heavy hand that held her squeezed her breast roughly. A flash of the lewd woman from London entered her mind, as well as the man, the way he took her. Then she remembered something else, something her mind had almost forgotten. The man tried to leave without paying her the coin he owed and she had grabbed hold of him down there. He screamed in pain and gave her the money. Now M
arguerite twisted and turned, reaching down and grabbed the man between his legs and squeezed as hard as she could, yanking back and forth.
The man bellowed in pain.
The darkness receded. Darias gripped his sword tighter. His eyes rounding as he took in the scene before him. The man, one he did not care for, was trying to hold onto his love as she pulled, and twisted between his legs. He did not need to hear the specifics to know what had happened. Darias walked purposefully over to her. “Love, let the man go.”
Marguerite looked at him, her face grim, determined, but she obeyed.
The Knight looked at Darias, his face becoming ghostly pale.
“Why?” Darias asked simply.
“She is a witch.”
“A witch you say.” Darias eyed the man, his grip tightening on his sword. “What were you planning to do?”
“Something you were too afraid to do yourself,” he spat.
Darias narrowed his eyes. “And what exactly might that be?”
“To get rid of her,” he gave Marguerite a look filled with contempt.
“By whose orders?” he asked in a deadly calm voice.
The knight’s eyes glazed over. They looked strange. His face paled even more, which Darias didn’t think was possible. He looked as though there was something far greater to fear than Darias himself. And Darias wasn’t sure how he felt about that. He watched the man climb up on the battlements, his actions measured, deliberate, as he turned and stepped right off the ledge.
Marguerite gasped in shock.
Darias re-sheathed his sword, walked over to her, and took her into his arms. “That is twice now you have frightened me. I do not like it. Not one bit.”
Marguerite didn’t know what to say or think; she merely wrapped her arms more snugly around him and held on.
DREAMS OF TOMORROW: A NEW ADULT TIME TRAVELING ROMANCE (Ravenhurst Series) Page 11
