“Ooooh, that’s like my fantasy,” Mary whispered.
Helen shot her a look and she made the key motion again. They went inside, and the housekeeper blinked at them all. Her gaze repeatedly drawn to their black clothing. “This is Miss Foster’s friend. Please show her to a guest room.”
Mary opened her mouth to say something, looked at them both, closed it again and followed the housekeeper up the stairs.
She didn’t know where to start, what to say, but she’d have to say something. Have to end it and make him understand that this was impossible. The thought of it was exhausting. She turned away from the staircase towards Edward, but before she could get a word out he was almost on her, eyes hard, purpose clear as he stalked closer. And then he was kissing her, his mouth forceful and urgent on hers. His hand slid into her hair, fisting there, holding her still as he kissed her mouth.
Her knees went weak, and she couldn’t help but put her arms around his neck. His other hand went down, pulling her against him, his knees lowering for just a moment so that he could notch himself against her, the hard length of his shaft pressing against her mound.
He moved her backwards, into the sitting room, shutting the door behind them and moving her to the couch. She went down on it easily, helping him. Her breathing was rapid, her mind racing and body thrumming with desire. Before she knew it, her boots were off and her fingers were on the buttons of her pants, undoing them clumsily. He shoved her hands out of the way and yanked them off of her, a button flying free with a small ripping sound.
He instantly settled over her, plundering her mouth, his hand on her jaw and one between them, freeing his cock. He was breathing harshly, his face flushed, and he sank into her with a groan. Her legs flexed against his hips, and she rose up to meet him, taking him to the hilt in a single thrust that made her cry out in shock and pleasure.
He instantly stilled and looked at her, brows slashed down and lips damp from kissing her. “Did I hurt you?” he asked, and it was the oddest moment, as if time stilled and she was suddenly outside of herself. Still lusting, still desperate, but the purity of the moment would always be etched in her mind.
His body strained; she could feel his heart beating against hers, his body trembling at the effort it took to hold still and wait for her to say she was okay. Edward loved her.
He wouldn’t hurt her. He couldn’t bear it. No matter what it cost him, he’d sacrifice for her. And in his mind that made all of this, everything about her, his responsibility. She finally got it.
“I’m okay,” she said hoarsely and tried to smile at him. She stroked his face and touched his hair, his neck and shoulders. His forehead dropped pressing against hers, and then he was moving inside of her again, quickly building up to a pounding rhythm that pushed her over the edge, had her crying out his name. He came soon after that and pinned her with his weight. As if he had to keep her there, as if he wouldn’t let her escape.
And then he moved off of her and stood, buttoned his trousers and sat down, putting his head in his hands, shoulders slumped. As if he’d spent more than come, but his anger and determination, maybe even his very sense of self. “What do you want me to do?” he asked, and looked at her by tilting his head the smallest amount.
“I have to…do my job. The Germans are dead. Maybe all of them. And if that’s the case, then this is over. There won’t be any more time travel, no more people coming through.”
She could see every muscle he had lock in place, like he was waiting for a gun to go off or something. “And then what? Will you be free?”
“No, then…” She felt her throat clog with tears. “Then I have to leave. Jonathon thinks we are screwing up the timeline. That I will make you mess up your timeline.” He leaned back and looked at her fully. She felt lame, sitting there half naked on the couch. She grabbed her coat off the ground and put it over her legs.
“Cecily’s mother has already given me an ultimatum. To give you up.”
“What did you say?” she asked, heart flip-flopping.
“I told her she could call off the wedding. I wouldn’t stand in her way.”
She felt sick at the thought, sick and giddy at once. “Did she call it off?”
A moment of silence where he looked at her as if he were trying to read her mind. “What do you want me to say, Helen?”
“That’s not fair.”
He gave a brief sad smile. “None of this is fair.” He sighed and rubbed his hand through his hair, a gesture she loved and that made her heart squeeze. “She said she wouldn’t call it off.”
“Good,” Helen said, and had to look away. That sounded sincere, right?
“Do you know that every time I lie with you, all I can think is that I hope I get you pregnant? I hope I can have a…connection, a hold upon you that means you will need me enough to let me into your life. Because I am not enough. Not on my own. Not with my money or my title, not my personality or awful sense of humor. None of that is enough for you. And I can’t think of anything else but I want you. I want you to stay with me so much that I would settle for you being with me for any reason. And I still hope that’s true, Helen. If you’re carrying my babe, the child will be an outcast without me. Will get nowhere in life alone, but with me, could have everything. An advantageous marriage, wealth, family. If you don’t want me or want to better yourself by staying with me, maybe you’d do it for our child.”
She didn’t know how to feel about that. “You would…trap me?”
He placed the palms of his hands hard against his eyes, as though a headache was pounding in his brain. “I think, Miss Foster, that I would do anything to keep you.”
She didn’t let herself think about the sad wistfulness of his tone, the way he was so vulnerable before her. How did he do that? How did he lay it out there like that when he was only getting a crap response from her in return?
Because he’s much braver than me. In her time, bravery was walking to one’s death without screaming, ideally with a joke like, ‘hopefully the food is better on the other side’ or something similar. Something that showed one didn’t care, that emotions were things that could be pushed aside and conquered.
And when she’d met Edward, he’d had that same toughness, or so she’d thought – aloof and inscrutable. But now he was willing to let her see him be weak, because Lord knew she couldn’t do that. Maybe not even if she wanted to. Not just because it was her mission, but because she was a coward.
She reached for her trousers, putting them on quickly and then moving to her boots.
“I don’t want to be trapped. In the future, we know how to prevent babies. I’ve done that, Edward. This was fun but…you will never tie me to you.” She looked at him straight on. “I will never choose you, and I will never be with you again. I’m leaving.” She stood, and he reached out. She expected his hand on her arm, that he’d stop her, but he didn’t. He paused, hovering an inch away as though he was undecided.
“I will always help you, Helen. If you need me to. But…I’m not going to wait for you. I’m not going to stop everything when you won’t give me….” He took a deep breath, stopped speaking.
“And I don’t want you to. I’ve been trying to escape you since the moment I met you,” she said, and walked away, the door blurry in front of her. She opened the door and found Mary standing in the hallway waiting.
“How come you’re not up in your room?” she asked, voice wavering.
“Because I knew you’d do the right thing. You all set?”
She nodded and followed Mary to the door and out of it, down the quiet street to God knows where, and she didn’t know how much time she’d spent being miserable in her own head and cursing her shitty life when Mary stopped and gave her a hug. “I would’ve banged him too. You did good, Foster. Let’s go. Eye on the prize.”
Sure. She didn’t even know what the prize was anymore, and even if she had, she sure as shit couldn’t have seen it what with all the tears in her eyes.
C
hapter 20
It was early the next morning when Edward’s butler knocked on his study door, informing him that there was a man there to see him. “All he will say is that it is important, and you have a mutual acquaintance.”
Edward sat back in his chair, thinking for a moment about what he might want. Not only did he not trust the man, but he knew he was a killer if the situation warranted it. It made no sense for him to threaten Edward; by all accounts he was crucial to the future, but it wouldn’t hurt to be on guard.
He went to the door himself and walked out, seeing Jonathon standing in his entryway looking around him with wide-eyed interest. “You have a beautiful home. It’s amazing. Like a living museum,” he said, and Edward bit back a scathing response.
He gestured for Jonathon to go with him and they entered his office. “What are you doing here?” Edward asked sharply.
“I’ve come to talk to you about Helen. Obviously.”
“Obviously,” Edward repeated, voice devoid of everything.
“You shouldn’t be involved in this or with her. Not only are you out of your depth, but it’s dangerous for the timeline.”
“Why is it dangerous?” Edward asked, and leaned against the desk, arms crossed. He wondered how much information the man would give him. “It doesn’t seem at all hypocritical to you that you are back in time, altering events, and yet all you can say is ‘don’t alter events.’
“I suppose you’re right. I’m here to put an end to that. No more messing with the timeline. I’m going to accomplish that any way I can.” He patted his pocket and he could tell by the way it hung there wasn’t a weapon inside. At least, not in that pocket. Despite that, he was tense, on guard, half expecting a trap. The man pulled out a piece of paper, making a great show of opening it up and examining it. I have your future here,” he said, with a peculiar smile. “Your whole life can be summed up and put on a piece of paper, and fortunately for you, I have that. This is a list of activities that you can be involved in. Investments you can make, who you can marry, the children you can have, everything. And you’ll notice Helen isn’t on here. This is your life as it is supposed to be lived. This here is what you did before meeting Helen. This makes your name go down in history as a man who helped the world.”
“You say that like it’s a goal I should be concerned about,”
“Don’t bullshit me. You’re kind. You do the right thing. Here it is. This is what you’re going to do. There is no deviating from this.”
“That sounds like a threat,” Edward said quietly.
“Does it? You’re a smart man, you know better than me.” He flashed a smile full of overly large and blindingly white teeth.
“Clearly I don’t. And you don’t say it like you are impressed with my intellect.”
“Fishing for compliments? How vain,” he said and chewed on his lip for a moment while he studied the room around him. “Is that a real Gainsborough? Damn that’s amazing.”
“Can I get you something to drink?” Edward asked.
“No, I can’t stay. I just wanted to deliver this, give you a chance.”
“A chance. Again, that sounds like a threat. And where will you go, after you’ve given me my orders?”
He shot Edward a hard look. “We are leaving. You’ll never hear from us again. The Continent probably. Somewhere warm.”
Edward took a moment to look at the list. It was odd, almost like looking at an obituary. Marry Katherine, have children; his gaze lingered on that, tried to think what it would be like to have children with her icy features and lack of warmth. There was a series of investments listed as well. A great deal in water, hospitals, certain boards he was supposed to be on.
And of course, there was nothing listed after 1900. Is that when he died or did he just not do anything useful after that? Decades without Helen. “I’ll need to know she’s all right.”
“Of course she will be.”
“No, your word isn’t good enough.”
“Excuse me?” Jonathon said, tone deadly.
“When this is done, she stays in England where I can protect her. Or I won’t do any of this. I don’t care who dies, what doesn’t get invented. I don’t care if the British Empire falls apart or if sauerkraut becomes the national dish; I will let everything else burn before I let you take her out of the country.”
“I can’t leave her here!” He had the audacity to laugh. “She’s not yours. She doesn’t belong here. And she doesn’t want you. She should have made that perfectly clear last night.”
“I know,” he said gravely. “But I don’t trust you. Even if she doesn’t want me, I want what’s best for her.”
“Don’t be a fool! She’s not meant to be here! We are not meant to be here!” he said, shouting. He took a steadying breath. “If you had any idea how this works, you’d take that back.”
“Then tell me. Explain it to me,” he said, trying to keep the bite from his words.
Jonathon moved closer, an odd light in his eyes, suddenly reminding Edward of a fanatic. “Everything we do here alters things. For the love of Christ, even taking a shit here could kill millions of people.”
“Now you’re being melodramatic.”
“What do you think happened to the Native Americans when Europeans showed up? When an indigenous population is exposed to new diseases—they die. We come from a time where we have been at war for decades. Diseases are different in the future, and the only way to fix what we are doing here is to erase our impact. You can’t have Helen here, infecting people. We can’t stay.”
And that was when it made sense. What he wasn’t saying. They were not going to leave here and go live quietly. He was going to kill them all. Maybe himself included if the way he spoke so passionately about it was any indication.
“Is that why you’re here?” Edward asked. “Because they knew you’d follow through with your mission and kill not only your own people but yourself?”
The man didn’t respond, but his hand flexed at his side.
“No. Do you hear me? No. You leave Helen and Mary alone, or I do nothing on this list. I will do the opposite. I can send them to the wilds of Scotland if need be, away from people to minimize the risk, but you won’t hurt them. Feel free to kill yourself; I’d hate for your mission to be a complete failure.”
“Don’t fuck with my odds, Edward. You are only useful to me if you do what you are supposed to do.”
“I will do what you want, all of it. But you leave them alone.”
“No.” His mouth turned down, set into harsh lines. “That’s millions of lives. I won’t have that on my conscience. There are many theories of what happens if one messes with the timeline, and some of it we have seen play out. You know what seems to happen? It corrects itself. Kill someone important and someone else steps into their place. If you die, someone will do what you are supposed to do. But if they live here and infect people….there is no correction for that.”
“Now you’re threatening me?” Edward asked.
“Yeah, I guess I am. I bet that if you don’t work to change things, someone else with deep pockets will, and it will be less harmful to the world than our staying here. When the Europeans brought smallpox and the plague to the Americas, it killed eighty percent of the indigenous population. You’re one man.”
Jonathon reached for his pocket and Edward lunged at him, throwing himself at the man and knocking him off balance so they hit the ground hard. Jonathon was still conscious, the gun halfway out of his jacket. Edward punched him in the face hard, his skull cracking back on the fireplace, blood arcing from his mouth. He reached for the gun, both of them fighting over it when the American head-butted him, his grip faltering for a moment. Jonathon snarled, and Edward used his strength to keep the gun pointed away from him. He jerked his elbow down, slamming into the man’s windpipe. He dropped the gun instinctively, hands going to his throat, face flushed, and Edward wondered if the man was moments away from dying. If he should care. He grabbed the gun and
staggered off of him, head ringing from the blow Jonathon had delivered.
His vision went gray and he blinked, seeing Jonathon unconscious on the ground, maybe even dead, but Edward wasn’t stupid enough to walk up and check. He stood slowly and went to the door, unsure what he’d do beyond tie the man up. The last thing he heard was the click of a pistol behind him.
Chapter 21
Helen had waited all morning for Jonathon to come back, her bags packed and head aching from crying. It would get better eventually. Wouldn’t it? But Jonathon should have been back by now, and the fact that he wasn’t was worrying.
The street outside the duke’s house was packed. Poor people, servants, women and men in expensive clothing; a whole mix of society stood around chatting, and Helen had the idea they were waiting. But for what? Orange sellers and newspaper boys worked the throng of people hawking their wares. There were over a hundred people as best she could figure.
Her heartbeat slammed in her chest, and fear roiled through her. It was possible that whatever brought these people here was good or even indifferent news to her. Maybe his sister was getting married and the announcement was about to be made, or maybe the prince was visiting. It had happened before. But the mood was…off.
“Excuse me,” Helen asked, interrupting a conversation between a maid in a white cap and a young man in some rich house’s livery. “Why are all of these people outside the duke’s house?”
“He’s been shot. Everyone is waiting to see what’s going to happen.”
“Who?” she asked through a suddenly dry throat. “Who has been shot?” It couldn’t be Edward.
“The duke himself. The doctor came and then a servant went out. Everyone is waiting to see who he comes back with.”
“I don’t understand,” Helen said, feeling dumb and confused. It wasn’t her Edward who had been shot. It just…wasn’t. It didn’t make any sense. That simply didn’t happen.
The maid smiled at her gently. “Ooh, you’ve gone pale as milk, you have. He is a handsome one. He might be all right though. We’ll know soon enough. It all depends on if he comes back with a butcher or a priest.”
A Lady Most Dangerous (Helen Foster) Page 11
