Under An English Moon

by Bess McBride

  “Kill you! What are you talking about, woman?” Reggie thought he must be losing his mind.

  “I just can’t stop worrying about it, about her, about how much pain she’ll be in.”

  “What about my pain?” Reggie barked.

  “I’m not going to apologize for the way I feel, Reggie, but I did apologize for hurting you,” Phoebe said.

  “And I cannot apologize for the way that I feel. Whether it is fair or not, my ‘moral code’ is derived from the society in which I live.”

  “But it’s wrong,” Phoebe said, “and I know you know that.”

  “If you know that, then why did you storm out of the drawing room? Why did you abandon our betrothal so out of hand?”

  “Because I was frightened and confused,” Mattie said. “Because I love you, and I know that you’re a fine man. I just hated to hear you say the words ‘unsuitable.’ Because I worry that you think I’m ‘unsuitable.’”

  “You are unsuitable, you minx,” Reggie said. “And I love you terribly.”

  “I know what you did for Samuel. There’s not much you can say to William that doesn’t get to Mattie. She told me. William is so proud of you.”

  Reggie shifted uncomfortably. “The only admiration I seek is yours, Phoebe. I should stand by my brother. That is not a trait worthy of pride, but of filial loyalty.”

  “But it shows that you’re willing to try to change...those one or two teeny, tiny things that aren’t perfect about you.” Phoebe’s bright mischievous smile warmed his heart.

  “I am forgiven then?” he asked.

  “If you forgive me,” Phoebe said.

  “How could I not? Then you will stay?”

  Phoebe shook her head. “No, I have to get back and leave her a note or call her or say something.”

  Reggie staggered back, landing heavily on the bench. He bowed his head in his hands.

  “I am going mad,” he moaned.

  Phoebe bent down and took his hands in hers. “No, you’re not. You’re coming with me. And if we don’t make it together, then you wish every day on the full moon that I come back, and I’ll wish for the same thing. I just need an hour or so.” She scrunched her face. “Well, maybe I need to look up the instructions for homemade antibiotics and central heating and grab one of Mattie’s books, but after that, I’ll be ready to head back.”

  Reggie shook his head. “It is too dangerous.” He pressed her hands to his lips. “I cannot be parted from you, I cannot.”

  “We’ll be together, Reggie. Always.”

  “I fervently hope this does not work,” Reggie said.

  “Don’t say that. We have to wish on the same thing at the same time...and hope the moon is full enough.”

  “You are determined to do this?” Reggie asked.

  “I am, Reggie. Maybe in two or three years, I won’t feel bad about disappearing on the only family I have, but right now, it feels awful, and I know she must be crying her eyes out.”

  He sighed and rose, pulling Phoebe to her feet. “I will release the groom to return to the house. We cannot have him waiting about for days or a month, nor could I bear to have him witness my grief if we are separated.” He crossed to the front of the house and sent the groom back to Ashton House with Sebastian in tow, and with a cryptic message for Mattie stating that he and Miss Warner would travel by moonlight but would return as soon as possible and would they please inform his family if they did not return.

  “Repeat those words,” Reggie instructed the groom, who repeated them accurately.

  He returned to Phoebe who gazed at twinkling of the moon on the river.

  “I love you, Phoebe Warner,” he said as he took her hand.

  “I love you too, Reggie Hamilton.” She clung to his hand. “Don’t let go.”

  “What is your wish, my love?”

  “I wish Reggie and I were together at my apartment in New York City.”

  “I wish Phoebe and I were together at her apartment in New York City.”

  They clung together and looked up at the moon.

  Nothing happened. They repeated the words again. Still nothing happened.

  “Reggie?” Phoebe asked in a suspicious voice. “Are you really wishing for the same thing? You’re not secretly wishing this doesn’t work, are you?”

  “I am conflicted, but I believe that I am wishing as you are. I know in my heart that I wish to be with you always. Is that not the same as wishing to be where you are?”

  Phoebe sighed. “It should be. Maybe it’s the moon. It can’t really be a full moon, right? I thought the moon was only full one day a month, but look at it. It looks full.”

  “Yes, I agree.”

  “What if we don’t hold hands?” Phoebe asked. “Maybe that’s it.”

  “I am not releasing your hand, Phoebe! That will not occur.” He tightened his grasp. Phoebe wasn’t really serious about it anyway, because no matter what, she needed to stay with him.

  “Okay, let’s try one more time. If it doesn’t work, we won’t try again.”

  “I wish Reggie and I were together at my apartment in New York City.”

  “I wish Phoebe and I were together at her apartment in New York City.”

  Phoebe felt herself falling, and she screamed for Reggie.

  “Don’t let go, Reggie!”

  Chapter Eighteen

  What seemed like only moments later, Phoebe opened her eyes and drew in a sharp breath. Reggie’s hand still clasped hers, his grasp warm.

  “Reggie?” she called. He lay next to her on the floor of the living room in the apartment in New York. They had managed to get back. Several lamps glowed, and Phoebe scrambled to her knees to look at Reggie. He opened his eyes and blinked.

  “We are together,” he said.

  “Yes, we are,” Phoebe said as she bent to plant a kiss on his lips. Reggie, still lying on the floor, grasped her by the shoulders.

  “Do not ever leave me, Phoebe Warner,” he said in a thick voice.

  “Never,” she whispered. “Even when I tell you I’m going to, I won’t.” She looked up. “We’re here. I wonder if Annie ended up going to Hawaii. I hate that my disappearance probably ruined her trip.”

  She rose and tugged at Reggie’s arm, unable to pull him up by herself. Reggie rose and straightened his coat and cravat.

  “You and your clothes,” she chuckled.

  Reggie reached for her bonnet to straighten it.

  “You and your clothes,” he repeated. “A lady must always wear her bonnet correctly.”

  “I love you,” Phoebe sighed as she melted into his arms. “Clothes and all.”

  “As I love you, my dear girl, in this century or any other.”

  A sound came from the bedroom, and they swung around. All was silent. They exchanged glances.

  “Annie?” Phoebe called.

  The door burst open, and Annie stood there holding a baseball bat.

  “Phoebe?” she screeched. “Phoebe? Oh, Phoebe, where have you been? What on earth are you wearing?” Annie cried as she dropped the bat and crossed the room to hug her cousin.

  “Oh, Annie, I’m so sorry we just disappeared like that. How long have we been gone?”

  “A couple of days. I called the police, but they wouldn’t take a missing person report until just this morning. Where have you been?” She turned to Reggie. “I thought for sure you had killed her and then run off to England. I tried calling Scotland Yard, but they thought I should contact the local police and provide your name. Not that I could remember your last name.”

  Phoebe listened to her cousin rant, and she let her vent while murmuring soothing words. Unconsciously, she kept hold of Reggie’s hand, or he kept hold of hers. Just in case, someone wished something accidentally.

  “You’d better sit down, Annie. It’s kind of a long story. How about some tea?”

  “Tea?” Annie said. “Gosh, you’re really in character, aren’t you? Don’t think I don’t recognize that outfit. You’re doing a
Jane Austen thing or something.”

  Phoebe shook her head and took off her bonnet, setting it on a table. “Okay, coffee then. Just relax. I can’t tell you how sorry I am to have worried you. If I’d had a choice, I would have done it differently.” She moved into the kitchen, pulling Reggie with her and making the coffee with one hand, not a difficult task with the modern coffeemaker. Reggie assisted her with cups and spoons.

  “So, you didn’t get to go to Hawaii, did you?”

  “Not yet, but don’t worry, I’ll get there. Johan is waiting for me.”

  “I’m so sorry,” Phoebe said in a mournful tone.

  “Stop apologizing and tell me where you went,” Annie snapped. “The best I can figure right now is that you were abducted by aliens, fans of Jane Austen, I would say.”

  Phoebe giggled nervously. She picked up one cup, and Reggie picked up another. He declined coffee for himself. They returned to the living room, and Phoebe handed Annie a cup.

  “What? Are you two joined at the hip? Let go of one another. No one is going to disappear into thin air. I didn’t hear the door open by the way. You were quiet...at least until I heard a thud on the floor in the living room. I’m not sure what you were doing.”

  Phoebe shook her head. “No, we can’t let go of each other. At least, we don’t want to. Drink your coffee and listen. Don’t interrupt for questions.”

  She told Annie about Reggie’s arrival, their own time travel back to 1827, their theory that wishing on the full moon was the catalyst, and that they were going to be married.

  Annie choked on her coffee several times, and then leaned back onto the sofa and stared at them with narrowed eyes.

  “Am I supposed to believe all that, Phoebe? Are you drunk?”

  Phoebe shook her head. “No, it’s true. I know it’s hard to believe. I didn’t believe it either, but look at him.” She nodded toward Reggie who had remained silent. “Does he seriously look like he belongs here?”

  Annie eyed him. “Yes, he looks like he belongs here. I thought you told me he was a model. He really does look like a cover model. I was nosing around in your stuff, looking for clues, and found all your paperbacks. He looks just like some of the guys on the books.”

  “Well, he might well be for all we know,” Phoebe said with a smile at Reggie, “but that’s another story. I came back, as scary as the trip was again, to tell you that I’d never just disappear like that because I knew you’d think I was dead somewhere.” She looked to Reggie. “That reminds me, I should say something at work...about not coming back.”

  “Sinclair Publishing?” he asked with a private smile.

  Phoebe chuckled. “Just so.”

  “Phoebe, you can’t be serious. Time travel?” Annie asked.

  “I am serious, Annie. How can I prove it to you?”

  “I have no idea,” Annie said.

  “Wait! I know. I’ll get my laptop. Maybe I can find Reggie’s portrait on a search of his family’s name. I just hope we don’t see anything we don’t want to see...like dates of death.” Phoebe frowned. “No, I don’t want to do that. Something else.”

  “I’ll check it out,” Annie said. “I won’t tell you anything you don’t want to know. Like I really believe all of this anyway.”

  Annie stepped into the bedroom and returned with her laptop, throwing skeptical glances toward them over the edge of the screen as she waited for her pages to load.

  “Okay, what do I look for?”

  “Lord Reginald Hamilton, Earl of Hamilton.”

  “Eighth Earl of Hamilton,” Reggie amended.

  “Earl?” Annie repeated. “I’m impressed.” She keyed in the information, while Phoebe and Reggie waited. She cast occasional glances at them while she read.

  Phoebe, her heart pounding, regretted the idea. It was less important to prove to Annie that they had traveled in time than to protect themselves from knowing the future.

  “Annie, no matter what you find, please keep it to yourself,” Phoebe said. She clung to Reggie’s hand, and he patted her hand with his free one.

  “I’m just reading stuff,” Annie said. She paused at one point and peered closely at the screen.

  Phoebe could have jumped up to look over the screen, but she held her position. “What are you staring at?”

  “Nothing,” Annie said as she glanced up. “Don’t worry about it.” She studied Reggie’s face, and Phoebe suspected she had indeed found a portrait or some likeness to Reggie. She wondered what it looked like.

  “Can I ask you anything?” Annie asked.

  “No,” Phoebe said firmly. She looked at Reggie who shrugged. “Maybe. I don’t know.”

  “How about a name? Kind of like a test? Something I doubt you would really know.”

  Phoebe grew curious. “A name I wouldn’t know? That doesn’t make sense.”

  “Well, it’s not really about you two. What about the name Tollerton? Is that anyone you know?”

  “Tollerton,” Reggie repeated faintly. “The dressmaker?”

  Phoebe began to laugh. “Sarah Tollerton? You found a reference to her in a search of Reggie?”

  “Well, not Reggie. His brother, apparently. You know, the solicitor?”

  “Oh, see, Reggie?” Phoebe turned to Reggie. “It does work out. Hah!” She continued laughing.

  “Leave off your guffawing, woman,” Reggie remonstrated. “It is unseemly.”

  “I think I’ll have her make my wedding dress,” Phoebe chuckled. “In fact, I know I will.”

  “As you wish, my dear,” Reggie said with a faint smile.

  “Good news about Samuel though, right?” Phoebe said brightly.

  “Yes, indeed. I am pleased though to hear that my brother succeeded in entering the profession of his choosing.”

  Annie snapped the computer shut. “Okay, I believe you.”

  “You believe us?” Phoebe stopped laughing abruptly and stared at her cousin. “Just like that? Time travel? That’s okay with you?”

  “Well, there’s a portrait that looks a whole lot like Reggie on there, and it was painted in the nineteenth century.”

  “Don’t say when!” Phoebe clamped her hand over her ears.

  “I wasn’t going to,” Annie said. “It’s all good though—long happy lives, both of you.”

  “Both of us?” Phoebe whispered.

  “Both,” Annie nodded. “But I know you didn’t want to hear that.”

  “Very funny!”

  “So, now what? You go back? And that’s it? I never see you again?”

  Phoebe winced and gave her a faint nod. “That’s about it, Annie.”

  Two tears spilled down Annie’s cheeks, and she wiped at them with the back of her hand.

  “It’ll be like you died, Mouse,” she said in a husky voice.

  Phoebe jumped up and crossed over to the couch to kneel in front of her cousin. She took Annie’s hands in hers.

  “Oh, Annie, I’m so sorry. I don’t know what to do.” Phoebe glanced over her shoulder to Reggie whose face registered sympathy...and just a little bit of apprehension.

  “I can’t believe we’re having this conversation. It’s so surreal,” Annie said. “But I believe you. You’re in the history books,” she muttered.

  “Am I?” Phoebe whispered. She looked at Reggie again with a tender smile.

  “Yes. Can’t you come back at all? Even to visit?” Annie asked.

  Reggie rose and came to sit on the sofa near Annie and Phoebe.

  “We do not know if it is possible, Annie. We do not even know if it is possible to return to my time, but if it is not, I am fully prepared to live out my life here...with Phoebe.”

  “But you’re there, both of you,” she said. “I saw it on the Internet.”

  Phoebe shook her head, terrified Annie might accidentally reveal any more of her future...or past...than she wanted to hear.

  “I’m not sure that’s a guarantee,” Phoebe said. “Who knows how this time travel thing works? We talked abo
ut this when we were in England. Can we inadvertently change the past by what we do now? If Reggie and I decided not to go back, then would you still see us there in 1827 or whenever you saw us listed?” Phoebe held up a hand. “Don’t say what year!”

  “But what if you do get back without a problem, isn’t there any chance you can come back to visit...ever?” Annie asked.

  Phoebe reached for Reggie’s hand. She would let him decide. He seemed to understand her intent and he spoke.

  “As long as Phoebe and I can travel through time together, there is a possibility we could try to return.” He paused. “But once we have children, it will not be possible. I trust you understand why that must be so, Annie.”

  She nodded. “You can’t risk the children or being separated from them.”

  “Just so,” Reggie said. He smiled sympathetically.

  Phoebe’s mind had been brainstorming for the past few minutes.

  “Come with us, Annie!” she exclaimed.

  Both Reggie and Annie turned startled eyes on her.

  “What? Are you nuts? I can’t do that,” Annie said. “I’ve got my life here, my money, Johan.”

  “Phoebe, my love, I do not think it is necessarily possible for Annie to travel as we do. Remember, as with Mattie and William and you and I, it is the power of our need for each other, our shared wish for love, that compels the travel through time...or at least so we believe.”

  Phoebe bit her lip. “He’s right. If everybody could travel just by wishing on the moon, it would happen a lot more than it seems to. So far, we only know of one other woman who has traveled back in time. I don’t know if it would work for you, not if you don’t have a fervent wish to love someone in the nineteenth century.”

  “Well, I don’t,” Annie said with a skeptical look on her face. “And at any rate, are you guys sure that’s how you travel?”

  “The means are unclear, but it is true that I wished for my destiny, and Phoebe wished for...?” Reggie raised his eyebrows in question.

  Phoebe blushed. “A Georgian man of my own. I remember the words.”