The Wayfarer's Daughter: A Time Travel Romance (The Wayfarer Series Book 2)

by Jennifer L. Hayes

  Thank goodness for small mercies.

  She scanned the growing crowd, wondering if Mr. Dudley would come to see her off.

  Liverpool wasn’t an unrealistic distance for a future lover to travel. True, he had not responded to her last letters telling him of her imminent departure, but she still clung to the hope that he would see her off.

  It had been her mother’s idea to send her to America. She’d thought that the distance was so great that it would allow Isobel plenty of time for reflection and a change in attitude.

  Isobel scoffed at the thought. Reflection indeed.

  At least the distance would quell the fear of retribution from Mr. Pluckrose. No one knew as well as Isobel how entrenched the man was with the most wretched of characters. Mr. White had told her stories. Stories that would cause most gentlewomen to swoon. Now, with the worst of her deeds pinned on him, she feared what would become of her if she were to remain here. Even with him at Newgate prison in London, she knew his influence could be felt from the other side of those walls.

  The thought sent chills down her spine.

  What would her future hold? Would she ever return to England?

  She could have suffered a worse fate.

  Her aunt and uncle settled in beside her, their excitement for the coming journey plastered across their faces.

  “You’ll see, Lady Isobel, everything will be as right as rain once we get to New York,” her uncle said, running a hand over his mutton-chop whiskers.

  Her uncle was a very rich merchant bent on expanding his business in New York. The couple had never had children, which was why they were more than pleased to extend the invitation to her.

  Of course they knew nothing of the mess she’d created at home, so were thrilled to be charged with Isobel’s care. It gave her the feeling that maybe a fresh start could be possible.

  “We’re to board now, I believe, our trunks are labeled and will be brought directly to our rooms,” her aunt said enthusiastically.

  “Lovely,” Isobel said, not quite ready to leave her perch and resign herself to the fact that Mr. Dudley might very well be lost to her forever. “Would you permit me one last tour on the docks to say farewell to England?”

  “Of course, dear, your uncle and I shall see you on deck.” She looked toward her husband. “Darling, give Lady Isobel her ticket so she might join us once she’s ready.” She turned again to me. “Don’t delay, my dear, the ship sets off at three pm sharp.”

  “Are you sure she should—” her husband started to object, the ticket still clutched in his hand.

  “She shan’t be but a moment, Edward,” she scolded, and her husband shrugged his shoulders. He knew better than to argue and handed it over.

  “I will make sure I’m back in time.” All Isobel wanted was one moment longer. She imagined the romantic scene of Mr. Dudley arriving just in time with his luggage in hand.

  Isobel shook the image out of her head, trying to keep her daydreams at bay. Perhaps some urgent business had detained poor Mr. Dudley. She had to be realistic—he was a very busy man.

  The seagulls circled above the crowd. Some even hopped along the wooden dock, finding the odd nibble of food.

  Her heeled boots clicked as she walked down the docks towards some of the stalls set up to sell food and supplies for the travelers. Her lungs filled with her last few breaths of English air.

  What would the air be like in America? Would it feel different as it went through her lungs?

  For the first time she had a lump in her throat at the thought of leaving. She had really mucked things up for herself, hadn’t she? So much destruction.

  Emma’s words on the bridge now rang loud and clear.

  One day you may come to realize everything that you’ve thrown away in your search for power and I know that if that day comes it will be difficult for you to atone.

  As much as Isobel didn’t want to admit it, there was a shred of truth behind those words.

  A woman in a blue dress, frayed slightly along the hem, pulled her shawl around a small toddler to warm her from the whistling wind. The gesture was so kind and pure, something Isobel herself had never experienced before. What had been her last act of kindness?

  She stood for a long while and searched her mind for even a vague inkling and couldn’t.

  Shame burnt her cheeks.

  The woman and child were joined by a man in a dark suit, certainly not a gentleman, but a kind-looking man. He took them both in his arms and steered them towards the ship.

  Whose arms would hold her now if she were cold? She was alone. No one in her family had even made the journey to see her off.

  Could she blame them? She should be content that they’d shown her any mercy, she supposed.

  Still, who did she have?

  “Miss?” A gruff voice behind her interrupted her thoughts.

  She wheeled around and saw two squat little men standing a few feet away.

  “Miss Drake?”

  She registered the distinct lack of ‘Lady’ but couldn’t be bothered to correct the men. She was more concerned with how she was acquainted with them in the first place. Clearly not the kind of company she was accustomed to. That should have been the first indication that something was amiss.

  “We’ve a message from Mr. Pluckrose,” the one with the scar along his chin said. His voice was gravelly, like he was in the habit of indulging in cigarettes.

  Alarm shot through her entire body, planting her in place. She thought she might even loose her bowels.

  “He doesn’t take kindly to your kind,” the other one said in disgust.

  Isobel wanted to scream, but she’d walked to the edge of the docks away from the crowds of people without even realizing it. Over the general noise of the sea port she would never be heard.

  She knew these men meant her harm, but she was powerless to stop it.

  If only she’d boarded the ship with her aunt and uncle.

  If only she’d made different choices.

  Chapter 47

  A Gift

  Henry beamed at Emma as he led her blindfolded down the drive near the ruins of Dormer House. This was the first day that Emma had been well enough to make the trip out here and he couldn’t wait to give her his surprise.

  It was a beautiful October day. The sun was shining and the leaves had turned a beautiful array of yellow, red and orange.

  He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so full of unmitigated happiness. So broad was the smile on his face that his cheeks actually felt the strain of it. He was painfully happy. The idea made him laugh out loud.

  “I’m seriously starting to feel nauseous,” Emma complained.

  “Quit your grumbling. I assure you it is worth a slight bit of nausea,” he teased.

  “I can think of very few things that are worth that,” she shot back.

  “You are impossible. Have you any idea how dreadful a task it is to come up with a gift worthy to impress a woman like you?” Henry complained.

  “I am a low-maintenance girl, Henry, it’s not too difficult,” she said in a deadpan voice.

  “That’s where you are wrong. I contacted every jeweler in London and still I could not find you the perfect present, one that would demonstrate how much I truly love you.”

  Emma tensed in his arms.

  “Don’t worry, Emma, I won’t shower you with jewels—”

  She let out the breath she was holding.

  “—yet.” This woman’s aversion to diamonds was unprecedented. Perhaps she’d soften over time.

  “Are we almost there?” She sounded a bit worried. “Unless this blindfold is some sort of nineteenth-century Fifty Shades of Grey thing, then I’d really like to take it off.”

  Her words puzzled him. He wondered if he’d ever understand her strange expressions. When she’d shown him her iPhone, as she’d called it, he’d begun to understand how vastly different her world was from his. Who could imagine a time when letters could be received
within seconds of their composition? Examining that small rectangular device, he struggled to comprehend where it stored everything it held. He couldn’t even begin to make sense of it. Did she miss the world she’d come from? Was he himself enough to keep her here?

  Doubt often sneaked into the corners of his mind, taunting him to give into to his insecurities. What could he possibly offer her that could compete with all that she had? A world so full and far beyond these parochial confines. Sure, he believed himself to be a modern man, but judging by Emma’s stories he was limited even on that front.

  “All right, Miss Clayton, you may remove your blindfold.”

  Just when I was well and truly done with the blindfold Henry undid the knot and let it fall to the ground.

  I wondered what kind of gift he had for me that required such extreme measures.

  My eyes struggled to adjust to the brightness of the sun. When they did, standing in front of me was a gorgeous four-legged creature. My jaw dropped to the floor. I was speechless.

  He was a beautiful chestnut gelding with a stunning white blaze down the front of his face.

  “Henry?”

  “I’m told he can jump the moon. Although I do hope that you’ll take care,” he said with a hint of reproach in his voice.

  I threw my arms around his neck and squealed.

  Mr. McCleary, who was holding the horse, looked away in embarrassment.

  “He is stunning!”

  “Of course,” Henry continued proudly, “Angus is also yours, but should you require something extra…”

  “Better than diamonds,” I said, rushing over to my new boy. Careful not to spook him, I let him nuzzle my hand before making my full-blown assault on him, scratching the withers and cuddling his long face.

  His lips rummaged through the folds of my skirt for treats as if I’d been holding out.

  “He’s a fine specimen to be sure,” McCleary said to me.

  “He certainly is. Does he have a name?”

  “Little Jamie’s taken to calling him Blue, on account of the bruise he acquired from him during a small disagreement.”

  “I like that.” Blue was a great name. His almost cream colored forelock hung low over his eye, giving him a mischievous twinkle.

  When I turned to look at Henry he was beaming at me. In a few long strides I walked back to him.

  “Thank you, Henry, this is truly the greatest gift anyone has ever given me.” Aware that McCleary was still standing there, I didn’t smother Henry with kisses like I desperately wanted to.

  Now that he’d been allowed to court me properly, we had to keep up appearances. Whenever we could we sneaked passionate embraces when no one was looking but otherwise we had to remain chaste.

  Of course, having already felt the heat of Henry’s body next to mine, I was nearly going blind from desire for him. “Even a quickie?” I had begged once much to my own shame. His barking laugh and steely restraint were almost a source of outrage, especially when compounded with my surging hormones.

  I wanted his hands on me so badly that I often woke from a restless sleep with the equivalent of a wet dream.

  A few times I had nearly broken him down.

  Nearly.

  Now he offered me the nook of his arm, which I took, and we walked around the estate, taking in the blackened remains that had once been Dormer House.

  My own thoughts drifted to the few bits still visible many years from now. Why wouldn’t they rebuild?

  “Do you miss it?” I asked, following his gaze towards the ruins.

  “I miss the memories I used to get of my mother when I’d walk into certain rooms.” He tucked my arm closer to him while he spoke, the heat of him rushing through me. “But the feeling of the house and the family life I later had there was like a dark stain on the fondness I once had.”

  “Would you rebuild?”

  “We haven’t got the funds to do so at the moment. So much of it is caught up in speculations and investments.”

  It reminded me of the earl’s initial attempts at forcing Henry into a marriage. Money certainly played a role in such a desirable union. Happiness was often less of a consideration.

  “If you had the money, would you?”

  “Perhaps.” He looked thoughtfully towards the rolling hills ahead. “Sometimes, the only place to go is forward. I’m not sure I’d want to go back. How about you?”

  “What? Do I want you to rebuild?” I wasn’t sure what he meant.

  “No, do you have any desire to go back?” Henry glanced down casually, but I could tell that he’d been working up to this.

  I stopped walking. “Other than a few modern conveniences and one very dear friend”—the thought of April gave me a lump in my throat—“I am right where I want to be and where I belong.”

  My right hand brushed along the side of Henry’s cheek.

  “Plus, you’d be hopelessly lost without me,” I teased and watched his smile light up his face.

  “What would I do without the constant threat of danger? I’d be dreadfully bored.”

  Harold called out and we both looked to the sky.

  What mischief was he up to?

  Another bird, only marginally smaller, flew alongside. They perched in a tall tree overhead.

  “Looks like Harold’s found himself a girlfriend,” I gushed.

  “Miss Clayton, must you be so crass?” Henry faked disgust.

  He hadn’t seen anything yet.

  Tomorrow we would be married.

  The thought made me excited for many reasons. Not only would I not have to hide my pregnancy, which was only now starting to show, but I could ravish my husband to my heart’s content.

  Miss Crabtree, my mother and I were staying at the White Hart tonight. It wasn’t exactly the bachelorette I’d envisioned for myself. I wished that April could be here.

  In the carriage I’d brought a note for her that I’d carefully rolled into a bottle. I would leave it for her today in the stables as we’d planned and in some small way I hoped that would make up for her absence.

  “We should head back soon.” The afternoon sun was starting to fade. Soon it would be gone completely. The days were already considerably shorter.

  “I can’t imagine what would be so pressing,” he teased. “Will it take you that long to prepare yourself?”

  I swatted at Henry.

  “Stop. I’m sure there must be some rule against me being with you even now. Don’t you and the lieutenant have something to do of your own?”

  “Hmm, yes, I suppose we’ve got some houses of ill repute to frequent before the night is over,” he said without sarcasm.

  After giving him a penetrating stare, he cracked a smile.

  “The only woman I’ll be thinking about tonight is the one I’m to wed tomorrow.”

  His arm snaked around my waist and pulled me into a passionate embrace. Soft lips came down on mine, leaving me weak in the knees. I could lose myself in his kiss. I grabbed the collar on his coat and tugged him towards me.

  “Will you give me a sample of the goods?” I said in a not-so-subtle attempt to make him cave.

  He pulled away from me. “Miss Clayton!” he said in mock surprise. “I’m appalled that you would even suggest such a thing and from a gentleman.”

  “You? A gentleman?” I said, bringing his hand to rest on my small belly.

  “Well, you can’t blame a man for a small hiccup, now can you? Everyone is well aware we are the inferior sex and therefore should be given special dispensation.”

  Henry’s eyes danced with mischief. Tomorrow I would have him all to myself.

  “How much dispensation are you talking about?”

  I only had to wait one more day.

  Chapter 48

  Nerves

  Every time someone approached the White Hart Eileen took notice from the window above.

  It had been a few weeks since she’d sent her letter to Charles and had yet to hear a response. Perhaps he’d not recei
ved it. She could live with that. On the other hand, what if he had and did not wish to answer it?

  After seeing him in London she’d scarcely thought of anything else. Except of course her daughter. Almost losing her had been the reason she needed to reach out to Charles. Life was too short and for a wayfarer especially it could be fraught with dangers.

  A chill ran down her spine when she remembered the woman in the street. What had that wayfarer wanted? Was it simply curiosity? It wasn’t often that you ran into another traveler.

  Eileen hadn’t yet told Emma about it. The last thing Emma needed to hear was that there could be more danger out there. With Mr. Pluckrose behind bars and Isobel… well, she was now an unknown factor. The earl had told them that she’d failed to board her ship. No one was overly concerned—she was no longer a threat. She’d most likely decided to run off.

  Henry’s carriage pulled up out front and Eileen watched the two of them from the upstairs window. They were so happy together, their bodies so in tune with each other. Every little glance and touch, even the ones by accident, so loving.

  She couldn’t believe how things had turned out. When she’d first seen Emma and heard of her predicament she’d been prepared to take her far away from here where Emma could mend her broken heart. That was what she had thought best. Her daughter had shown her a different way. Against the odds they had fought hard for each other and their affection for one another had prevailed.

  Watching how Emma had fit right into this world drove home a fact that Eileen had perhaps known all along. This was where her daughter belonged. Guilt plagued her when she thought of the mistakes she’d made along the way. How fear had been her driving force, propelling her to take action. She’d leant so much from her daughter this past month. What an incredible woman Emma had become.

  So, after pouring her heart out in a letter to Charles, now Eileen waited with frayed nerves. If he didn’t come to her she would seek him out. Until he told her with his words to leave him be she would persevere. At the very least she owed him that. After taking away his choice in the matter so many years ago, she owed him a choice.