As Halle and her friends entered the lobby, their footsteps echoed in the spacious room. Against a far wall, the hearth blazed with a strong fire, warming the room considerably. Historic pictures of manors and people hung on every wall framed with authentic gold-leafed wood. They passed a few open doors and Halle couldn’t resist peeking inside. The rooms appeared to be parlors, and immediately she pictured gentlemen wearing black suit jackets and white neck cloths while they sat and awaited their lady-loves to join them. Remarkably, Halle could even picture these imaginary men drinking port and smoking cigars, just like the 19 Century gentlemen she’d read about.
“Welcome to Buckland Manor.” A man with a slight dusting of gray in his hair smiled warmly, greeting them from behind the check-in counter.
Colin set his luggage down and rested his arm on the tall countertop. “Hey dude, we’re here on vacation and we have a reservation.”
The older man raised a bushy eyebrow and gave a stiff nod. “You may address me as Nigel,” he said in a snarky tone.
“Nice to meet you, dude.” Colin put forth his hand in greeting. “We’re from the United States.”
Halle almost laughed out loud. Of course the man knew they were Americans. Not only did they dress differently, but they talked with American accents. If they were from England, they would have said they were on holiday.
The man behind the front desk shifted his gaze between Colin’s face and his hand for a few awkward moments before rolling his eyes. He ignored Colin’s outstretched hand and proceeded to check them in.
It didn’t take long before porters showed them to their rooms. Halle hurried inside and closed the door behind her. Letting out a squeal of delight, she launched into the air and landed on her bed. She hugged the throw pillow and grinned. This was such a dream come true and only promised to get better.
She rushed through unpacking, anxious to tour the grounds. Immediately, her mind returned to the man by the tree. What was it about him that made her thoughts go to him? He didn’t really give her an evil glare. In fact, the way he looked at her was like he knew her, which was impossible. Unless…
She stopped and gazed out the window. Maybe the man knew her father and had seen a picture of her at one time. How she hoped she would find someone who knew something.
Once she placed the last garment in the wardrobe, a knock came at the door. “Come in.”
Colin and Samantha entered, each wearing a grin almost as wide as the room.
“Are you ready?” Colin stepped ahead and glanced around. “Get a load of this. Your room is bigger than mine.”
Halle laughed and studied her reflection in the mirror as she fluffed her hair and checked her make-up. “Oh, I’m sure our rooms are the same size, but with different furnishings it probably just looks bigger.”
“I don’t know,” Samantha whined from the bathroom. “My room doesn’t have a jetted tub.”
“What?” Halle tore away from the mirror and entered the spacious bathroom. “Wow! This is awesome. I’ll never want to leave this place.”
“I thought the inn would give us that feel of being back in time.” Samantha tilted her head and her long, blonde hair streaked with dark brown strands fell over her shoulder. “So far all that makes me think I’ve gone back in time is looking at the pictures on the walls.”
“Hey, did you read the inn’s pamphlet?” Colin picked one up as he passed by Halle’s bed. “It says that on Friday there will be a costume party that evening. We get to dress up like people from the Victorian age and the festivities will be centered around the mid 1800’s.” He glanced in the mirror on the wall, running his fingers through his deep brown hair. “Do you think I’ll pass as a Victorian dude?”
Halle snorted a laugh. “Not if you keep talking like you’re still in high school.”
Samantha barked out a laugh and Colin nudged her with his elbow, and scowled.
“I wonder,” Halle continued, “if there’s a place in town where we can rent some costumes.” She picked up her purse and grabbed her room key. “Let’s take a tour around the estate and ask questions. I’m sure someone will know.”
“We still have four more days. What’s the rush?” Samantha asked.
Halle faced her friend. “The rush is that we don’t want to wait until the last day to get the costumes, only to find out there are none left.”
“Fine.” Samantha flipped a hand through the air.
They exited the room and wandered around each floor. Halle tried to imagine what it would have looked like in 1800. She majored in Architectural History in college, and she thrived on reconstructing houses to look like they did back in those days. She was lucky enough to land the perfect part time job while still in school—decorating with antiques.
On the main floor they found the library, stocked with books as well as DVD’s. She smiled, wondering what the Victorian people would have thought about the future’s form of entertainment. Instead of reading a book, having friends over for tea, or holding a ball, people could read things from the Internet and become just as educated.
Halle slowed as they reached the dining room. It was so very long and spacious. The table and chairs in this room were definitely antiques, and she smiled in awe of the place. There were several walnut stained hand-carved chairs with stitchery-cushioned backs and seats. In one room, there was a pianoforte; the wood and keys were very old, and it was roped off from anyone to touch.
If she closed her eyes right now she could picture what it was like to live here...to be the lady of the manor and be in charge of a dinner party. Friends from all around would come, and the manor was large enough to hold them all.
Sighing dreamily, she realized she’d been born in the wrong era. She could have lived in the 1800’s and loved every minute of it. She might have had parents who stayed married…and who didn’t die so early in life.
Sadness pierced her heart as she stepped outside with her friends. Slowing her footsteps, she placed her hand to her chest and frowned. Her mother had died too early, and her father…she had never met face-to-face.
Colin stopped and looked at her over his shoulder. His brown eyes narrowed and he frowned. “Hal, are you all right?”
After taking a deep breath, she nodded. “I’m fine. Just feeling nostalgic right now. And is it any wonder?” She glanced around the yard, from the bush by the tree, to the birdbath waterfall, then to the rolling acres of manicured lawns. “My mother would have loved this place. It’s…like heaven.”
Samantha placed a gentle, comforting hand upon her arm. “I’m sure your mom would have been very happy about you coming here.”
Halle chuckled and hugged Samantha. “Not if she knew I was coming to find my father and meet him face to face.”
She tucked her hand through her friend’s elbow as they turned to walk around the side of the manor. Immediately, the sickly gardener with the piercing eyes appeared carrying a bag of dirt. He stopped quickly as if trying not to run into her. His eyes widened before scanning over her in a slow perusal.
His deep blue eyes held her attention. For a moment, she thought his age younger than what she’d originally guessed. But the gray tones of his skin, and his thinning hair made her believe he was a middle-aged man. So then why did his eyes appear younger? Seeing him this close, she could tell he’d once been very handsome. Black hair waved down past his ears, and his face held a day’s stubble.
Slowly, he nodded as a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. A twinkle lighted his eyes. “Good day, Miss.”
“Thank you. I believe it’s a perfect day.”
He set the bag of dirt by his feet and straightened to a good head and half taller than her. He swept his hair off his forehead. “I hope you and your friends enjoy your stay here.”
“Oh, I’m sure we will, thank you again, sir.” She glanced away from him only long enough to see Samantha and Colin heading around the back of the house. Meeting his stare, she smiled. “If you’ll excuse me—”
“Pardon me.” He gently placed his hand on her arm.
Instead of frightening her, a strange warmth crept up her limb. “Yes?”
“I fear I’m at a loss for words. I feel as if I know you, but I don’t recall how or where we have met before.”
She nearly melted. Not from his words, but his accent. Gads, how she loved a man with an accent and deep voice...sounding as if he walked right out of the pages of a Victorian romance. True, men in the stories she read were much younger than this one, but still, there was something about him that made her heart skip a beat.
“Well, I don’t think you know me since I’ve only been to England one other time. I didn’t stay long, and I didn’t stay here. Have you been to America, perhaps?”
“No.” Sadness touched his eyes, and they lost the spark she noticed a moment ago.
“By chance, do you know a man by the name of Will Chapman? He is my father, and a month ago, he was here at this manor.”
“I fear I cannot recall being introduced to a man with that name.”
She frowned and shrugged. “Well, then I suppose we don’t know each other.”
“Will you be so kind as to introduce yourself anyway?”
“Sure. I’m Halle Chapman.”
His smile returned and he gave her a small bow. Dreamily, she sighed softly. What a gentleman!
“I’m Drew Merrick.”
Should she shake his hand? Usually the men offer their hand first, but it was as if her hand had a will of its own and reached for his. Quickly, he withdrew his glove and placed his palm against hers in a warm handshake. Warm, calloused, fingers swept across her skin, stirring a strange feeling inside her.
“Hal? Are you coming?”
She glanced at Samantha, who looked irritated to think Halle would talk to this man. She nodded. “Coming.” After stepping back, she shrugged. “I guess I better catch up with my friends.”
“Of course.” He nodded. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Miss Chapman.”
“And I was happy to meet you as well, Mr. Merrick.” She took a step to leave, then remembered the question she’d had on her mind earlier. “Oh, before I go, can I ask you a question?”
“You may.”
“The inn is having a costume dinner party on Friday, and my friends and I need to find costumes. Do you know of any stores where we can find vintage clothing?”
His frown returned just as the light left his eyes. “I’m afraid I do not. I’m not familiar with the shops around this area.”
“Rats.” She shrugged. “Well, I’ll keep asking around. I can’t wait to dress up as a woman from that time period.”
His gaze slid over her as if he wasn’t ashamed of being so bold. Perhaps he wasn’t a gentleman after all. “I think you would have made a lovely lady.”
She giggled and stepped away. Even though she thought he might be flirting, it was still fun to talk with him. His age didn’t matter, either. But she didn’t like him appearing as if he was going to keel over and die at any moment.
Halle waved. “See you around, Mr. Merrick.”
“Yes, you shall see me.”
* * * *
Andrew watched the lovely woman hurry to her friends. He knew he’d met her before, or at least seen her, yet she stated this was her first time in this area. Perhaps she reminded him of someone back home.
He shook his head. Back home. He was home for pity’s sake! Somehow he’d entered another world—alive, yet not quite alive, as if he lived in a dream. And what a strange dream. Never could he have imagined such odd things. For the first time since entering this world, he finally found a face that looked familiar. How could he? From what he’d discovered since coming here, he was a long way from being home even though he stood in front of his family’s manor.
Rubbing his forehead, he tried pushing the memories aside. It had been nigh thirty days since he’d left his world and the people trying to kill his family. To make things worse, each day he remained in this God-forsaken place, he grew sicker. When he peered in the mirror every morning, he didn’t look like a man of nine and twenty. Whatever was causing his poor health, also made him look older.
Andrew picked up the bag of dirt and threw it over his shoulder. Immediately, he winced. The wound from the musket ball he’d received a month ago still bothered him from time to time. Apparently, the wound was worse than he’d first thought.
Trying to ignore the soreness, he proceeded on his way to the tree. He’d been tending that area since he arrived. Of course, his father had mentioned the tree before he died, which led Andrew to believe the treasure was buried somewhere around here. Why couldn’t he find it? Then again, was it worth his efforts now? The treasure was probably long gone.
All these years later, the story about his past had expanded into nothing but lies. The people who ran Buckland Manor hadn’t a clue as to what really happened the night the mob attacked his family.
Andrew knelt by the tree, his knees cracking. It appalled him to think this was happening to his body. It must have something to do with traveling through time. If only he could return to his life—return to his family and save them from their horrid death.
Unfortunately, fate had other plans. Andrew would die here in this other world without anyone who cared. Never had he felt more alone.
Stretching his back, he glanced across the yard. Miss Chapman and her friends were still strolling through his mother’s gardens. Of course they wouldn’t be his mother’s gardens now. Still, it pleased him to watch the young woman as she talked and laughed with her friends. It wasn’t the style of clothes she wore that caught his interest—he wasn’t quite so shocked by the bold fashions anymore—but it was the way they fit her body so well. Most people in this world wore ridiculous clothing…the most immodest he’d ever seen. Miss Chapman’s style wasn’t as bad. It was just the way they clung to her curves that made him take a second—and third—look. Even the way she wore her hair was different than most other women. Her light brown curls hung down her back and over her shoulders, and when the sun hit it just right, her hair shined with golden tones.
Sadly, he chuckled. In his younger days—even if it was a month ago—he would have wanted to make her acquaintance and perhaps get to know her intimately. Miss Chapman was just the type of woman he sought. But not to marry. He’d felt he needed more time to grow, yet now as he looked back, he should have followed his father’s wishes and settled down like his brother, Edward.
Unfortunately, Andrew’s rogue days were over. And so were his healthy days. We became so weak at times, and even his hair was thinning too fast. Soon different parts of his body would fall off at the rate he was aging in this new world. Groaning, he rubbed his forehead. Lord, just kill me now!
Andrew returned to his digging and replanting. Although the sun still shone, the brisk wind had cooled England’s temperature considerably. But even the wind couldn’t remove the beads of sweat from his forehead.
Once he finished, he left the tree and wandered toward the secluded pond out back. Harrington Manor had been his home since he was born, and he had so many fond memories. The times—and name of the manor—might have changed, but the memories were alive, as if they’d happened not too long ago, which in his reality they had.
The pond stood empty of tourists. Lately this place had been filled with sightseers, and Andrew never found a moment’s peace to wallow in his own thoughts...and misery. Thankfully, today was different. The weather had been abnormally warm for England at this time, so he stripped off his shirt to splash a little water on his chest. He wished he could dress in what he used to wear instead of these odd contraptions that made him feel as if he traipsed around half-naked. He knelt beside the water and sprayed his chest, neck and shoulders.
Cupping his hands, he let them fill with liquid before pouring it over his head. Chills ran over him from the coolness of the water’s temperature, but he still sighed with pleasure. The cool water stroked his hot skin, calming his displeasure. The bushes
beside him rustled mere seconds before female giggles erupted. He jumped and swung toward his intruders.
Miss Chapman and her female friend stumbled out of the brush. When their attention landed on him, their laughter stopped. Their eyes widened, and the friend slapped her hand over her mouth, but it was Miss Chapman who he enjoyed watching because her mouth hung open.
“Oh, my—” she gasped.
He recognized that look. True, he hadn’t witnessed it for at least a month, but Miss Chapman’s gaze slid over his torso in interest. Now he realized how much he’d missed seeing a woman react in such a way.
“Mr. Merrick, forgive us for...” She cleared her throat. “For interrupting...um...”
“My bath?” he finished for her.
“Well, I suppose you could call it that.”
He chuckled and slowly picked up his flannel shirt to slip his arms inside. “No reason to apologize. I was just enjoying the cool water before returning to work.”
Once he buttoned his shirt, he ran his fingers through his damp hair, pushing it back on his head. He glanced at Miss Chapman’s friend who still looked as if her eyes would bulge out of their sockets. He smiled and met Miss Chapman’s startled gaze again. “Are you going to introduce me to your friend?”
Miss Chapman blinked and pulled her shoulders back. “Of course. Forgive me for not thinking.” She touched her friend’s arm. “Mr. Merrick, this is my friend from college, Samantha Beck.”
He bowed slightly. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Beck.”
The blonde woman’s grin widened. “Likewise, I’m sure.”
He swept his hand in front of him, motioning toward the water. “The pond is yours now, my lovely ladies, but please take care. Even though the day is quite warm for December, the water is still cool. I would hate for you to become sick and catch your deaths.”
Love Lost in Time (Victorian Time-Travel) Page 2
