by Leela Ash
“Now don’t get me wrong, folks, I do love my tea. As a matter of fact, I love absolutely everything you’ve served me here,” Callista observed, taking a reassuring chomp of a creamy chocolate pastry that lay neglected on the border of her primrose print saucer. “Still, I must hasten to inquire—doncha have one drop of Coca-Cola anywhere on the premises? Mayhap even some Budweiser?”
While the brothers Barrett howled their mirth at the antics of their all too American guests, an understanding Jasmin graced Callista’s shoulder with a reassuring pat.
“Nope, sorry Calli. Those particular beverages haven’t been invented yet—that’s about the only thing that fully and truly reeks about this Victorian time travel business,” she told her, adding with an encouraging smile, “And while nachos haven’t technically been invented yet either, we happen to have all the makings for ‘em in the kitchen. Cheeses, meats, spices…everything you could possibly ask for and then some to prepare what we know as…”
“Macho nachos!” the ladies erupted at once, raising their hands high above the table to unite in a celebratory high five.
Although they had no earthly idea as to what a macho nacho was—or, for that matter, what a high five was—the brothers beside them also clapped their hands together above the table; letting loose with a manly cry of “Ha!” as their female companions retreated to the kitchen.
The ladies emerged a short time later with a steamy silver tray topped with thick, robust, supremely cheesy, nothing remotely wimpy about them (hence the name) ‘macho nachos’.
“These are sublime!” Alexander marveled, adding with the shrug of his muscular shoulders, “Of course, after consuming exorbitant supplies of hardtack during my time in the Army, I well suppose that a plate of berries and twigs would taste absolutely sublime. Yet these macho nachos, as you so adorably refer to them, are truly very tasty!” he paused here, adding as he pinned a grinning Callista with an inquisitive stare. “Please, Miss. Do tell me more about your wondrous time.”
Eager to oblige her most enchanting lunch companion, Callista immediately regaled him with descriptions of life in the 21st century; everything from planes and automobiles to keg parties and Outlander marathons—all of the finer points of life in the modern age, at least according to Callista.
After lending him this short, succinct primer on life in the 21st century, the curious woman asked Alex to describe his time in the British Royal Army; listening enrapt to his glorious tales of guarding and escorting the queen herself during her visits to foreign lands, riding across deserts in Africa and India astride regal, stately elephants, and—in one memorable instance—challenging a native to a savage sword battle after he was caught trying to compromise a lady.
“You go!” Callista praised him, pumping her fist to congratulatory effect.
Alex smiled.
“Why thank you, Miss,” he returned, ducking his head in a sublime show of gentlemanly humility. “I must say, though, that even here in England, we do not treat our ladies quite as we should.” He paused here, continuing with a marked grimace, “I cannot believe that we do not even grant them the right to vote or own property!”
Jasmin nodded.
“Well, I myself plan to do something about that,” she offered. “I am helping to organize a Votes for Women rally in London next week.” She paused, smiling affirmingly in the direction of her obviously interested friend, “And now that my bestie is here, well, let’s just say that Victorian society will never be the same.”
Looking at each other with amused gazes that eventually turn downright joyful in demeanor, the Barrett brothers exchanged spirited high fives as they lauded their ladies with a spirited, “You go!”
Chapter five
After talking and laughing long into the evening, Jasmin and Nathaniel retired upstairs to a master chamber of the Barrett estate; leaving Alex and Callista to retreat to the deluxe drawing room of this elaborate manse.
Perching themselves on the edge of a settee of lavender velvet, they took a moment to inspect and admire this stylish salon; a grand parlor distinguished by the presence of stained glass windows and lamps, lavender cushioned cherry wood furniture with matching plush carpeting, and an expansive ceiling mural that depicted angels in flight across the vast expanse of a gem blue sky.
Their joined gazes paused to admire the cornice bound lines of this illustrious mural, finally careening down the side of a shiny silver brocade wall to regard yet another work of art; one that portrayed another decidedly angelic subject.
This large, brass framed oil painting portrayed the ebullient image of a veritable golden goddess; a tall, slender woman with flowing golden hair, wide dark eyes and a chiseled flawless face.
The model came dressed in a striking ivory ensemble that seemed to fit her celestial image. This fine example of Victorian fashion boasted a contoured jacket of satin and lace, as well as a bustled cream hued, lace lined overskirt with a crisp cotton ruffled underskirt attached.
“Is that Eugenia, Nathaniel’s first wife?” Callista asked, adding through gritted teeth, “The woman whose gown I cruelly bogarted for my own use this particular eve?”
Alex nodded.
“That is indeed our dear Eugenia,” he allowed, adding in a wistful tone as he cast a loving look in the direction of the painting, “And please do not concern yourself about the dress. Aside from being a raving beauty, Eugenia was the sort of kind soul who literally would grant a stranger the dress off her back if she so needed it. I still cannot believe that she has been gone for nearly three years now.” He paused here, his voice soft and reflective as he continued, “His dear wife Eugenia was claimed by the fever; ripped from Nathaniel’s arms so early in their marriage. In the wake of her death, he closed himself off in the lonesome confines of this house—the virtual mausoleum he’d once called a home. I swear to you, Callista, if it hadn’t been for Jasmin’s quite unexpected arrival, I do believe that my dear brother would have followed in his wife’s footsteps—dying an early and miserable death, this one because of heartbreak.”
Callista nodded.
“Well, believe me when I say that Nathaniel has returned the favor,” she assured Alex, adding with a bright smile, “I have never seen Jasmin happier. After trying everything in our time from Library Speed Dating to a lifetime membership in eHarmony.com, my friend had just about given up on finding love.” She paused, continuing with a casual shrug, “It turns out that all she had to do was take a quick road trip through the corridors of time to locate and pin down her cuddle bunny. Who knew?”
Alex guffawed outright.
“I do love your way with words, Miss,” he praised her with a wink, adding more seriously, “And as thoroughly insane as I originally believed my brother to be, claiming that his new lover had journeyed through time to come to him, the moment that I met Jasmin, I knew immediately that she was indeed the product of another century. I loved her humor, her strength, her independence—this was the kind of woman that I had been seeking for years, the kind that is so rare to find in our day and age. Through my years away at service, I searched foreign shores for this illusive woman—only to remain alone at the end of my search, not to mention very lonesome. I often inquired, jokingly of course, if Jasmin had a friend,” he chuckled, adding as he stared deep into the eyes of his companion, “I am so very glad that the answer was yes, Callista.”
Callista said nothing for a moment, just trembled outright as Alex said her name like the sweetest poetry; also not resisting as he brought her hand to his soft, moist lips for a warm, gentlemanly kiss.
Finally. she released on a whisper, “Jasmin and I both knew that I was intended to be here, in this place and time. And now, Alex, I think I know why.” She paused here, arching her eyebrows in a show of obvious interest. “The men of my time often don’t know the meaning of chivalry and romance. They pay no attention to their dress or deportment, and you know that they would never raise a fist—let alone a sword—in defense of a woman. You seem so di
fferent. And ya know what? I quite like different.”
She took in her breath as Alexander seared her with a dazzling white toothed smile; erasing all distance between them on the settee as he assured her on a hot whisper, “I like different too, milady. Let me show you just how much.”
Alex surged across the settee to seize her lips in a hot, passionate kiss; his warm, moist lips stroking and massaging hers in long, loving strokes.
Angling his golden head over hers to intensify their kiss, he plied her lips with greatest affection as their tongues entangled between them.
Leaning full and hard into his kiss, Callista wrapped her arms tightly around his muscled shoulders as he placed his own sturdy hands around her slender waist.
For a few blissful moments, the couple kissed and cuddled; their hearts pounding in one accord as the smacking of their lips resounded long and strong in the atmosphere around them.
Finally, another, most unwelcome sound served to disrupt the tenor of their romantic rhapsody; the chiming of a nearby mahogany polished grandfather clock that tolled the arrival of the midnight hour.
Breaking their kiss, Alex graced his new lover with a dreamy smile as he raised his hand to stroke the silky strands of her long red hair.
“You’re so different, so beautiful, in every way,” he praised her, adding as he graced her beaming lips with another impassioned kiss, “I so hate to leave you now, but the hour is late.”
Callista shrugged.
“Well, why break up the party now, when we’re hitting it off so well?” she asked him, arching her eyebrows to teasing effect. “Perhaps I could see you up to your chamber, Alex? Or you could see me up to mine?”
She frowned, confused moments later, as Alex dropped her hand and rose from the settee; turning sharp and swift away from her as he said over his shoulder, “I am a gentleman, Miss Callista, and shall not take advantage of a proper young lady.”
Callista snorted.
“What if it turns out that the proper young lady in question really has a hankering to—I don’t know—get lucky?” she queried with a teasing grin.
This grin dissolved moments later, as Alexander raised a firm hand between them and headed with seemingly expedient haste in the direction of the staircase.
“What I am currently seeking, Miss, is the woman of my heart,” he assured her, “Not simply a woman with whom I can—ahem—get lucky. Good evening, Miss Callista.”
Chapter six
“Are you quite all right, my darling?”
Ensconced together in the deluxe master suite, originally designated as Jasmin’s guestroom, she and Nathaniel huddled together in an ebullient sleeping place distinguished by a lace canopied bed doused in ivory silk comforters, polished brass-trimmed cherry wood bureaus, plush white carpeting, and a candle-lined brass chandelier that hung low from an ivory corniced ceiling.
Although laying astride her handsome lover in the luxury of their private trysting place, Jasmin made no move to open herself to Nathaniel’s heated advances; instead staring out the crystalline panes of a nearby lace swathed window, her generally smiling features now beset with a deep, pronounced frown.
“I cannot bear to see you this way,” Nathaniel told her, wrapping his arms tight around her shoulders as he implored, “I thought that you’d be so pleased to see your friend. Please tell me what ails you.”
Jasmin sighed.
“Of course I am absolutely over the moon to see Calli,” she admitted, adding as she looked him straight in the eyes, “Only I couldn’t help but notice that you offered her the full and free use of your wife’s wardrobe—an offer that you did not make me when I first arrived here. Now I must say that, back in our own time, I never felt jealous of or threatened by Callista. Don’t get me wrong, I think she’s absolutely beautiful, inside and out—but with her fair skin and her notable lack of—well—substantial cleavage, she wasn’t exactly coveted by our male friends and co-workers, any more than I was. In this time, though, that slender frame and fiery hair just renders her perfect.”
Suddenly, Jasmin was silenced by a kiss; a passionate advance that sealed her lover’s lips to hers as he plied her with the most tender of affections.
“In my eyes, dear Jasmin, you are perfect,” he assured her, adding with a wicked grin, “And I do believe I know just how to prove it to you.”
Jasmin shook her head.
“Don’t even think about it tonight, Beb,” she told him, holding up a restraining hand between them. “Between my best friend careening here across the bounds of time to my own personal crisis of confidence, I am simply not in the mood tonight.”
Chuckling in response to her somber words, Nathaniel reached behind him to open the drawer of his ivory corniced bedside table.
“Well, for once Darling, I wasn’t talking about sex,” he assured her. “I was, in fact, thinking more in terms of a marriage proposal.”
Jasmin gasped outright as her lover presented her with a dazzling diamond ring; a glimmering, sizable gem that caught the light of the candle glowing bright at their bedside.
“Jasmin Lawrence,” Nathaniel spoke again, taking her hand in his. “Will you be my wife?”
Tears flooded Jasmin’s eyes as she considered this tender query. Then she figured that she’d better hurry up and answer it, before the dude changed his mind and escaped her steely clutches.
“Yes,” she told him, voice barely above a whisper as he slipped the glowing ring clear across her finger. “Yes I will, Nathaniel.”
Chapter seven
The next morning, Alexander awoke from a light, restless sleep to rise still tired from his guest bed at the Barrett estate; slipping on a crisp high-collared white cotton shirt and tight taupe riding breeches before heading downstairs.
Although he tried to paste on a casual smile as he descended the winding brass-railed staircase that led to the grand dining room, his psyche brimmed with conflicting emotions regarding the events of the previous night.
As much as his heart soared with joy at meeting such a remarkable woman, one who seemed to be a perfect match in every way, Alex’s mind was plagued with the knowledge that he had offended his new lady friend—or, worse yet, that he had rejected her.
Of course I wanted to make love to Callista, he thought, adding with a grimace, Yet I did not want her to think me less than gentlemanly—nor did I wish to move things along too quickly.
Then he saw her standing at the foot of the stairs, and all thoughts scattered.
She was dressed this day in a resplendent day dress of satin and lace, a lovely peach colored effort comprised of a finely tailored lace-lined jacket with a stand up collar as well as a double layered bustled skirt that came complete with a ruffled underskirt and a rich waterfall bustle.
“Madame, I must say it,” he breathed. “You are a marvel.”
Callista smiled, but only briefly.
“Thanks,” she allowed, tone stiff and noncommittal, adding as her gaze took a casual walk down the length of his tall muscled frame, “And you, as usual, are sufficiently hunky and appropriately hawt.”
Alex nodded.
“Um, many thanks, Miss,” he mumbled, not at all sure just how to respond to this most peculiarly worded compliment. “What do you say we go for a ride this morn? Just the two of us?” he paused here, searing her with an intimate smile and passion-narrowed eyes. “I’d love to take you on a private tour of the estate—just you and me, Love. We just might be away all day.”
Callista looked at him for a long moment, then shook her head.
“Sorry, but I fear I’ll have to decline,” she told him as she turned away. “We have a game of croquet scheduled this morning—after, of course, we have a proper English breakfast.” She paused here, adding with a defined smirk, “And do allow me to assure you once again that it will be a proper English breakfast; otherwise, you probably wouldn’t be bothered to eat it.”
Wincing at these words, Alexander fell silent as he completed his descent down t
he brass-railed staircase; following Callista into the main dining room as he folded his hands before him.
So she’d far prefer a game of croquet to a promised passionate interlude with me, he mused in silence. As the people in her time might say, Ouch!
Yet he smiled moments later as he saw his brother and their hostess kissing and cuddling at the table.
“Good morn to you, my brother,” Nathaniel nodded, though he couldn’t seem to tear his gaze away from the glowing woman whose hand he held across the table.
A hand, Alexander couldn’t help but notice, that now came adorned with a shiny diamond ring.
“Blimey!” he exclaimed. “So tell me, dear brother. Did you finally come to your senses and ask this wondrous woman to marry you?”
“Did you finally put a ring on it?” Callista translated, rushing forward to engage her longtime friend in a warm, affirming hug.
“Yes,” Jasmin affirmed, choking back tears as she held her hand up to the light; putting her gleaming diamond on full display for all to admire. “Nathaniel and I are getting hitched!”
In the wake of a celebratory breakfast that featured eggs, pastries, cinnamon tea, as well as biscuits topped with fresh churned butter and strawberry jam, the happy foursome ventured out onto the sprawling front lawn of their host’s emerald grassed estate; starting the day off by engaging in a spirited match of the time-honored game of croquet.
Alexander watched in obvious admiration as Callista took her croquet mallet firmly in hand and knocked a round ruby red ball through the center of the shiny semicircular hoops that stood upright from the ground.
“Have you played croquet before?” he asked her, feathered eyebrows arched in a show of keen curiosity.
