10 Timeless Heroes; A Time Travel Romance Boxed Set

by P. L. Parker, Beth Trissel, L. L. Muir, Skhye Moncrief, Sky Purington, Nancy Lee Badger, Caroline Clemmons, Bess McBride, Donna Michaels

  How could she tell him she was leaving because she was in love? How could she explain she thought it best to remove herself from his existence now, while he was merely infatuated with the thought of a time traveler and before they grew closer? Before she disappeared back to the waking world or her own time? How could she say he needed to get on with a life based in reality—as did she?

  Her reasons for leaving seemed foolish when written down, but she was as sure as she’d ever been in her life that she had to go. She loved him too much to have him wake up one morning to find her gone. Ellie squashed the inconvenient thought that, if all went as planned, he would simply come home that day and find her gone.

  After several false starts and crumpled pieces of paper, she finally decided on the best approach to make him forget about her. She told him she was engaged.

  She left the letters on the dressing table, knowing one of the maids would find them later. Noon had come and gone. A carriage pulled up, and Ellie peeked out the window, expecting to see a messenger with a note. She panicked when she saw Robert descending. Having made her decision to go, she could not face him. He might come looking for her. She ran to the door and locked it. How would she get out of the house without his knowledge? He would surely hear a carriage arrive.

  Ellie pressed her head against the door and waited. She heard footsteps in the hallway. They paused at her door for a moment. She felt sure he would hear the pounding of her heart through the thick wood. She held her breath. An eternity seemed to pass in a few moments, and then he moved on down the hall to his own room.

  Ellie tiptoed away from the door and peeked outside the window. She had no choice. She would have to make a run for it when the carriage came. Hopefully, the messenger would have good news. Otherwise, she’d look quite the fool jumping into a carriage only to be tossed right back out onto the street.

  An hour passed. She heard Melinda’s voice in the hallway, a whispered conversation with Alice, and then silence as Melinda descended the stairs. Ellie crept back to the window again. Melinda and her grandmother climbed into the carriage. She wondered where they were going. Perhaps to someone’s house for tea. Ellie thanked her lucky stars for having the foresight to tell Alice that she had a headache and wanted to sleep.

  Ellie bundled her clothes together and continued to wait. She heard the thud of horse’s hooves and the jingle of a carriage’s livery. She looked down again. A strange carriage. A short man stepped down from his seat beside the driver, an envelope in his hand.

  This was it! Ellie grabbed her things, pulled open the door and dashed down the stairs. She reached the front door before the messenger knocked and startled him by swinging open the door, grabbing the note and flying toward the stairs.

  “Come on, let’s go! I’ll read it on the way.”

  The surprised messenger hurried down the stairs in her wake, handed her up into the carriage and jumped up beside the driver. The carriage started forward with a jerk.

  Ellie opened the note. Constance wrote that she’d had success and had instructed the driver to deliver Ellie to a particular address where she would meet her.

  “Ellie!” She heard a shout behind the carriage. She peered through the window and looked back at the house. Robert stood at the bottom of the steps staring after the carriage. He waved his arms over his head to signal her. “Ellie, wait! Where are you going?” The carriage drove on, his shouts unheeded by all but the sobbing passenger inside.

  ****

  Robert watched the carriage distance itself from him. He was certain Ellie had seen him. Where was she going? And in whose carriage? Why didn’t she stop when he called?

  If he’d had his druthers, he would have jumped into his own carriage to follow, but his grandmother and Melinda had taken it for the afternoon, leaving him stranded. He could certainly send someone to hire a private conveyance, but he would have no idea where Ellie had gone.

  With a last look at the settling dust where the carriage had disappeared down the road, Robert turned back toward the stairs. He looked up at the house. Perhaps Melinda’s maid, Alice, would know where Ellie had gone. He took the stairs two at a time, hoping against hope that Stephen Sadler had not come by to pick her up for an outing. Would Ellie go with another man? An inexplicable sense of impending trouble drove him at full speed into the house.

  His heart raced as he grabbed the banister and hauled himself up the stairs to the second floor.

  “Alice?” he called. “Alice?”

  The tiny redhead popped her head out of Melinda’s room, several piles of clothing in her hand. Her eyes widened when she saw him. Suddenly winded, he bent double and struggled to catch his breath for a moment.

  “Yes, Mr. Chamberlain? Are you all right?”

  Robert nodded and swallowed hard. He straightened. “Yes, yes. Thanks. Do you know where Miss Standish has gone, Alice?”

  “Miss Standish, sir?” Alice stared at him.

  “Yes, Alice, Miss Standish. She just left in a carriage. Did she say where she was going?”

  Alice shook her wide-eyed head. “No, sir. I didn’t know she had left the house. She told me to say she had a headache and wished to stay in her room.”

  Robert dropped his head and shook it, turning away with slumped shoulders. Perhaps she would return soon. He had no need to worry, either about her safety or her possible disappearance. He suspected that if the worst came to pass—if she indeed returned to her own time—it would occur as fast as her appearance, through whatever portal she had arrived. And he would know.

  “Is there anything else, Mr. Chamberlain?”

  “No, thank you, Alice,” he called over his shoulder as he eyed Ellie’s door. He moved slowly toward the door and laid a hand against it. It wasn’t proper, but he simply could not resist. He wanted to smell her scent, to reassure himself that she had not vanished as suddenly as she came.

  He pushed open the door and slid into the room. The bed was made, the room tidy. He crossed to the bed and ran his fingers across the pillow where her head had rested. He imagined her beautiful hair flowing across the pillow as she lay next to him. Would she lie next to him one day? Would his dreams come true?

  Robert turned to leave the room and noticed several envelopes lying on the desk. His own name handwritten on the top envelope caught his attention, and he grabbed the white square and ripped it open. With a sinking heart, he read:

  Dear Robert,

  Thank you for everything you have given me over the last few days. I cannot tell you how grateful I am for your kind assistance on the train and the hospitality of your home.

  I must go, Robert. I have made arrangements to stay elsewhere in the city, and I do not want you to try to find me. This is best for both of us. I cannot bear to hurt your feelings, and I am afraid I might if I stay with you any longer.

  There is no graceful way to say this, so I will just blurt it out. I am engaged, Robert, to a man in Chicago, a man from my time. When I wake up from this wonderful dream, he will be there beside me, and I owe him my loyalty.

  Please forgive me for running away like this. I could not look into your eyes and speak without stuttering.

  Take care, Robert.

  Ellie

  Robert crushed the letter to his forehead and sagged onto the desk chair. He could not think straight. Pain seared through his chest. He could not breathe. Where had she gone? Why had she run from him? Engaged? Had he misread the sparkle in her eyes when she looked at him?

  He lowered his fist and pressed open the letter once again, angry that he had crushed it. If the small white missive were all he had left of Ellie, he planned to treasure it. He straightened his shoulders and lifted his head. This was not over! He jumped up!

  “Alice,” he roared.

  Alice came running down the hall and into the room. Her brown eyes threatened to pop out of her head.

  “Mr. Chamberlain, what is it? What’s wrong?”

  “Tell me everything you know about Miss Standish’s activi
ties today.”

  Chapter Twelve

  After a tearful journey that seemed to last forever, the carriage delivered Ellie to an older Victorian house in downtown Seattle. She stepped out to meet Constance, who waited on the steps of the house.

  “Constance! I can’t thank you enough for everything you’ve done.”

  “I am happy to help, Ellie, though your puffy face tells me that this decision has been difficult for you.”

  Ellie nodded but did not trust herself to talk.

  “Come inside. Mrs. McGuire runs this rooming house. It is for ladies only. They will be sitting down to supper soon. Are you hungry?”

  Ellie followed Constance up the wooden steps to a lovely, narrow, rose-colored, three-story house. Mrs. McGuire, a plump, gray-haired, motherly sort, met them at the door.

  “Welcome, Miss Standish. It is a pleasure to have you. Please step into the parlor. May I offer you some tea? Dinner will be ready within the hour.”

  Constance answered for her. “Yes, please, let’s have some tea, Mrs. McGuire. I think Miss Standish could use some refreshment.” Ellie demurred, but Constance insisted.

  Mrs. McGuire showed them into a comfortable room at the front of the house and left them alone while she fetched the tea. The soft rose and blue colors of the room served to soothe Ellie’s jangled nerves. Lace curtains at the tall bay windows muted the light. Ellie sank onto the velvet rose sofa and took off her hat to ease the aching in her head. She closed her eyes and rubbed her temples.

  “Does your head hurt?” Constance asked solicitously as she sat down beside Ellie on the couch.

  Ellie opened her eyes and smiled wanly. “Yes.”

  “Some nice hot tea will do you a world of good.”

  At that moment, Mrs. McGuire returned with a silver tea service and set it down on the cherry wood table in front of the sofa.

  “I would love to sit and take tea with you ladies, but I must return to the kitchen, or I am likely to burn tonight’s dinner.” The plump woman beamed and left the room.

  Constance poured some tea and gave Ellie a cup.

  “You look very tired.”

  “I am. I hardly slept last night, and Robert arrived back at the house before I left.”

  “Yes?” Constance tilted her head inquiringly.

  “I had left him a note. I wanted to leave before he came home. So, when the carriage came, I ran out the door.” Ellie remembered her flight and giggled nervously, a sound that seemed inappropriate. She certainly didn’t feel like laughing.

  “You left without telling him? Why, Ellie?”

  “I have my reasons, Constance. Please believe me. It was extremely difficult. Promise me you won’t tell him where I am...although I suspect he won’t want to know after the ungrateful way I left the house.”

  “Oh, Ellie. I am so sorry.”

  Ellie looked at her former competition. “Just treat him well, Constance. I know you will.”

  Constance reddened and stood abruptly to walk to the window. “Ellie, I-I don’t know what to say. The truth is...after today, I do not think I want to marry Robert anymore. I think he is quite taken with you, and I do not want a man who is in love with someone else.”

  At any other time, Ellie would have loved to hear those words, but she had burnt her bridges. There was no going back.

  “I don’t think he’ll fancy himself in love with me after he reads my letter, Constance. I told him I was engaged.”

  Constance turned from the window. She raised her eyebrows. “But I thought you said that was over. You are selling the ring.”

  “It is over...as far as I can tell. But that is what Robert needed to hear.”

  Constance approached and laid a gentle hand on her shoulder. “I cannot pretend to understand what is going on here, Ellie, but I trust you know what you are doing.” She sighed. “Let’s go up and see your room.”

  Constance led the way upstairs to the second floor, where she opened a door on the right. The room was small but cozy. A small twin bed with a bright yellow coverlet rested against one wall. A highly polished mahogany dresser with oval mirror, a well-varnished night table with white glass lamp, and a small, rose velvet chair completed the furnishings.

  “The washroom is down the hall. Mrs. McGuire will explain the house rules. I think they are standard. No cooking in the rooms, no men beyond the parlor, no overnight guests. That sort of thing.”

  Ellie shrugged. She knew she was in the Dark Ages, and the light was only getting dimmer. When would she wake up from this dream? It held no pleasure or excitement for her any longer.

  Constance wished her a good evening and said she would pick her up the following day to take the ring to a jeweler. Ellie fought the urge to beg her to stay, hating how clingy and dependent she’d become. That she was penniless and alone, without friends and family, a hundred years before her time, did nothing to make her feel better about her character flaws.

  Though Ellie longed for nothing more than to curl up into a ball on her bed and go to sleep, she dragged herself downstairs at the sound of the dinner bell, thinking it better to avoid creating undue interest and suspicion. She longed for her credit card so she could book a cruise and run away to the Caribbean. In fact, she wondered where her purse was at the moment. Next to her bed in Chicago? On a train to Seattle a hundred years from now? Clutched in her lap while she rode the El and cried about the loss of a fiancé?

  Mrs. McGuire had set a lovely table, with white linen, decorative porcelain dinnerware and a centerpiece of bright yellow chrysanthemums. Three other women sat at the table, all younger than Ellie. They wore conventional clothing of white shirtwaist blouses and tailored skirts. Their hairstyles were all similar, upswept Gibsons in various designs depending on the shape and texture of their hair.

  They stared at Ellie in surprise for just a moment before smiling and welcoming her to the house. Mrs. McGuire made the introductions to Miss Samantha Stevens, Miss Martha Brown, and Miss Dorothy Simmons. Ellie shook hands with each of them and sat down in the indicated seat opposite Mrs. McGuire.

  The young women were not much older than Melinda, and the conversation was lively. Ellie felt a sharp pang of regret. She would miss Melinda’s bubbly personality. Samantha taught school, Martha worked as a typist at the newspaper, and Dorothy clerked in a bank. They asked Ellie questions about her stay in Seattle and her future plans, and Ellie fielded the answers as best she could. Certain her lies were growing more distorted with each embellishment and that she risked exposure, she hoped she would soon wake up or return to her own time—whichever the case might be. The latter still seemed farfetched. Wouldn’t she know if she had traveled in time? Wouldn’t she feel tired? Different? Older? Younger?

  As depressed as she was, dinner proved to be a soothing gathering of women. The food was delicious, though Ellie had a frustrating moment when she had to explain once again that she didn’t eat meat.

  “Why not?” Dorothy asked, her fork in midair.

  Ellie looked around the table at the sea of eyes that watched her curiously. The young women looked so similar in their white shirtwaist blouses and dark skirts. Only their hair color and body frames were different. Martha wore small round glasses on her pale face.

  “I-I’m an animal lover, you see.” Ellie gave a helpless shrug and bit into a delicious homemade biscuit, hoping they would take her answer at face value.

  “Really?” Samantha, a petite blonde, murmured. “I love animals too, but...”

  “What do you eat, then?” Dorothy asked with a napkin to her rosy face.

  How could she tell them about the varied inventory of delicious vegetarian foods available in stores in the twenty-first century? She thought fast.

  “Well, I eat a lot of vegetables, of course. I do eat cheese and eggs. Those are just like meat, really.”

  “Oh.” Samantha nodded sagely. “Yes, I can see. There really must be quite a bit to eat besides meat.”

  “As you see, ladies, she has some potat
oes and carrots on her plate, as well as having a glass of milk. She really has plenty to eat.” Martha, future investigative reporter, pushed her glasses back up to the bridge of her nose.

  “All right, girls, let’s not badger Miss Standish any longer. Eat your dinner,” Mrs. McGuire urged with a kindly look in Ellie’s direction. “I’ll prepare something additional for you tomorrow, Miss Standish.”

  “Oh, you don’t have to go to any trouble for me, Mrs. McGuire. I choose not to eat meat. I don’t expect anyone to put themselves out because of my choice. And please call me Ellie.”

  “May we all call you Ellie?” Samantha asked, with a scrunched-up button nose.

  “Yes, please.” Ellie felt like she was back in the classroom, calling on students who waved their hands in the air with questions.

  “Wonderful,” Dorothy murmured as she resumed eating.

  While the girls continued their conversation regarding the day’s events and the latest sighting of an attractive eligible bachelor, Ellie munched her food and listened with half an ear as she wondered what Robert was doing at the moment. She tried to imagine how he had handled her ungracious departure and wondered what he thought of her now. Hopefully, he would put her in the past as a temporary aberration in his world and move on, although Constance had indicated she might not be willing to consider him as a potential husband any longer.

  Ellie bit her lip. She hoped she hadn’t done any irreparable damage to Robert’s life. Constance and he suited each other well, though it seemed likely that if Constance had not already fallen madly in love with him, she would not be doing so in the future. And perhaps mad, passionate love did not suit Robert. Ellie had seen Robert in the throes of infatuation. He’d become moody, aggressive, and unhappy—quite unlike the confident, witty, debonair man she’d met on the train. She hardly took his crush on her as a sign of true love, having never been one to incite such passion in men. She thought it more likely his fascination stemmed from his notion that she had traveled back in time. What man didn’t like a good science fiction story...even at the turn of the century?