A Most Peculiar Season Series Boxed Set: Five Full-length Connected Novels by Award-winning and Bestselling Authors

by Michelle Willingham

  Arik shook his head. “I do not believe he can.” If their lives were switched at the moment of death, if they were truly caught in a world between this life and the afterlife, then there was no hope at all.

  An ache caught him at the understanding that he would never be a part of Juliana’s life. Once he had completed his task, he would reach the afterworld. And she would be left alone with her son.

  His protective instincts sharpened. She had traveled with her grandmother, but there was no one, save the old woman’s servants, to guard them. He had to find out where she had gone, and he needed the duke to help him in this.

  Gregory stared at the wall for a long time, as if gathering command of his emotions. “I wanted to believe you were Eric.” He closed his eyes and ran his hands through his graying hair. “I have grieved for the loss of my son, over this past year. I neglected my estates and my debts have piled up. Until you brought me this.” He held up a golden brooch, and a look of regret passed over him. “I would give up every last piece of it, if I could have my son returned to me.”

  Seeing this man, who so strongly resembled his father, brought another ache inside Arik. He would never see his family again or feel that sense of unity among them. He’d never expected his death to bring out such regrets, but now, he wished he’d taken the time to know his father better.

  “He regretted leaving in the way he did,” he told Gregory. “Your son did not want to be a duke, and that is why he fled this place.”

  The duke did not respond at first. He was tracing his hands over the gold, his sorrow palpable. “I suppose I always knew that. What I do not know is who you are. You look so much like Eric. I wish—”

  “As I told you before, I am Arik Thorgrim. Valdr is my father, and I was born in Rogaland.” He held the man’s gaze, wondering how much the duke would believe. “I was struck down by an enemy and left to die,” he admitted to the duke. “But I was given a second chance to live. I was brought by the gods to Juliana of Arthur, and I intend to help her and her son.” He regarded the old man and added, “You are going to help me. That is my price for giving you half of this hoard.”

  Gregory frowned. “It is not my place to interfere in their lives, though William Arthur, regrettably, was not a good man. He treated her badly, and it would be better if he never came back to her. I’ve heard rumors that he may have returned from his travels on the Continent, but I do not know for certain.”

  “I hope he does return,” Arik countered. “And if he dares to threaten her or her son, he will learn who Juliana’s new protector is.”

  The duke studied him with interest. “You wish to take care of her, then.”

  Gregory made it sound as if Arik’s interest lay only in Juliana. And although Arik could not deny the desire she’d kindled, it was far more than that.

  “Her son deserves a better life.” He closed the distance between them, feeling the anger rise up within him. “Harry is an innocent, and others took what rightfully belonged to him. We will not stand aside and let her enemies steal his lands.”

  A flash of unrest crossed the man’s face. “I am too old to fight battles like these. But I could put in a word with my solicitor. Perhaps there is something we can do.”

  “She is a woman of honor and goodness,” Arik insisted. “William of Arthur betrayed her, and she does not deserve that shame.”

  He thought of the way Juliana had held Harry’s hand, walking along the shore. She had been a patient, loving mother. A woman such as Juliana deserved a man who would protect her, who could provide for both of them and defend her honor.

  You cannot be that man, his conscience warned. He knew that... and yet, he held regrets. If he had his life ahead of him, he would pursue Juliana. He would give her gifts, spend hours walking with her, and try to coax a smile.

  The duke sobered and nodded. “We could try.”

  Arik sat down across from the older man. “How will we help her? Her grandmother took her to Lundenwic. Or London, I believe you call it.”

  “I have a house in London,” the duke said, “though I only dwell there when I must.” He let out a sigh. “Parliament will be in session soon, and I do have to go back.”

  “I will escort you there,” Arik said. “And you will help me face Juliana’s enemies.”

  The duke paused. “You are referring to Marcus Arthur, the acting Viscount Hawthorne.” He rubbed at his chin. “Marcus is not the enemy you think he is. He allowed Juliana to stay on at Hawthorne House for many years, though he claims she was only William’s mistress.”

  “She was the man’s wife,” Arik corrected.

  The older man shrugged. “Wife or mistress, she cannot remain at Hawthorne House. Marcus intends to marry soon, and he cannot have Lady Hawthorne and her son in residence with his bride. But as I told you before, if the viscount has returned, then all can be put to rights.”

  “Juliana does not deserve to lose her home and lands. Someone must fight for her,” Arik insisted. “And this I will do. She needs a place of her own.”

  The duke inclined his head, but his face held that same sense of regret. “You do remind me of my son. He never stood by and allowed injustice to happen.” He stood and added, “I suppose I could let you come to London with me. Since you gave me this treasure, it’s a reasonable request.” He beckoned in a silent command for Arik to follow. “But we should find some better clothes for you, if you intend to confront Lord Hawthorne.”

  Arik eyed the duke’s attire, wondering why any man would bother with a knotted cloth around his neck. But he did understand that he had to blend in with the other men, in order to better understand Juliana’s enemy. “As you say.”

  They left the room, and Arik followed the duke up a staircase. When they reached the landing, the older man turned back. There was a wistful expression in his eyes, and he admitted, “I still want to believe that you are my son. Others will believe it, and you must be prepared for that. If you truly want to help Lady Hawthorne, you must pretend to be Eric.”

  “Such is not necessary.” Arik had no intention of stealing another man’s name or place. “They will understand that it is a resemblance, nothing more.” He didn’t want the duke believing that he was here to usurp the young man’s place.

  But Gregory was already shaking his head in denial. “If you want my help in regard to Lady Hawthorne, you will have no choice but to deceive everyone. You may borrow some of my son’s clothing, and I will let them believe that you are Eric, returned from your journey.” He thought a moment and nodded. “I think enough of my friends will accept it, and it will allow you to see Lady Hawthorne.”

  “Tell me more about her husband,” Arik commanded. He felt that Juliana had not revealed everything to him.

  The duke crossed his arms and admitted, “The viscount was a reckless sort, dallying with anyone in skirts. Lady Hawthorne deserved better than him. He left for the Continent nearly six years ago, I think. I don’t know if he stayed away by choice or whether he was prevented from returning because of the war.”

  “Is he her husband? Does he have the right to claim her?”

  The duke sent him a curious look. “I do not know. But Lady Hawthorne does not appear to be a silly girl who would have succumbed to a seduction. She believed it was a true marriage and behaved like a model wife, whether or not Hawthorne deceived her.”

  The thought didn’t sit well with Arik, for he didn’t want to believe that Juliana had ever belonged to another man. If Hawthorne did come back to her, she would have no choice but to return to her husband. The thought burned him like a searing flame, for he wanted no other man to touch Juliana in the way he had.

  “Why does she not end the marriage and divorce him?” Arik asked.

  “She stays for the sake of her son,” the older man answered. “She cannot divorce William, or she would lose everything.”

  He loathed the idea of Juliana returning to a marriage with a man who had mistreated her. In many ways, life was far easier a tho
usand years ago. She could have ended the marriage and taken another man as her husband. A man like him.

  Arik wouldn’t have minded coming home to her each night, sharing her bed and taking care of Juliana. He would have enjoyed teaching her son how to hunt and fish. Any man would be proud of such a boy, and he could understand Juliana’s need to protect him.

  You will not be here to guard him, his conscience chided. You are already dead.

  The thought was sobering. All his life, he’d wasted years fighting enemies, raiding along the coastlines of foreign lands.

  But now, he had people to fight for. Not only to secure his place in the afterworld, but because he wanted to give Juliana and her son a better life before he left them.

  Perhaps that was what had been missing from his life—a reason to fight. But even if he did win this battle for them, he found that he was reluctant to leave them behind. The days he’d spent with Juliana had had a comforting familiarity, and the boy had given him a taste of what it would be like to be a father.

  He knew, deep inside, that he could not share a life with Juliana. Time was slipping away from him, and soon enough, his soul would disappear. Thinking of her was not wise, for it could only end in bitter separation.

  “If it is Juliana’s wish to end the marriage to Hawthorne, then I will help her to do so,” he said. Whether that meant challenging the man in battle or by another means, he intended for her to hold the power.

  “She does not have that right,” the duke answered. “At least, not yet.” A spark seemed to light up the man’s eyes, as if he were embarking upon an adventure. “You did aid me in a time of need. If your only desired compensation is to help Lady Hawthorne, then I see no reason why I should not lend you my assistance—though you have much to learn about London society.” His gaze focused upon Arik, and he nodded. “A great deal, indeed. I suspect a man like you has never set foot inside a ballroom. But I believe we can help Lady Hawthorne.”

  Arik reached out to grasp the man’s hand. “Teach me what I need to know.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  TWO WEEKS LATER

  JULIANA COULD HARDLY keep her eyes open. After all the days of traveling with Harry, Grelod, and her grandmother, she was ready to lay her head upon the dining room table and sleep for hours. She picked at her food, and inwardly, she felt a sense of disquiet. She’d grown so accustomed to Arik Thorgrim, her life felt empty without him. Even Harry had complained that he missed the man.

  Sometimes she stumbled between fantasy and reality. In her head, she knew that it was impossible for any man to travel through time. But her heart said otherwise. She had shared two nights with him that had broken apart the shielded edges of her feelings. For the first time in her life, she had taken a night of pleasure for herself, damning the consequences.

  Juliana missed him already. She wished she had not left him behind, even knowing that Arik would slay any man alive who dared to threaten her.

  Grelod was watching her intently, and there was a dark worry on her maid’s face when Juliana returned to her room. She raised her arms so the older woman could help her undress, and at last, she asked her maid what was wrong. “You’ve hardly spoken to me,” she said. “Is it about Mr. Thorgrim?”

  The older woman nodded. “I fear for your life, my lady.”

  Juliana smiled. “My life? For what reason? I’m perfectly well.”

  Her maid paled. “Forgive me, my lady, but I must ask... is it possible that you could be with child again?”

  “That’s impossible,” Juliana protested. But the moment she voiced the words, a frigid fear passed over her. She had given herself to Arik on the night they had met and then a second time only two weeks ago.

  She closed her eyes, unwilling to even think of such a thing. If the worst had come to pass—if her moment of indiscretion had resulted in a child, it would cast its shadow over Harry. Juliana gripped the edges of her nightdress, willing it not to be so. To be pregnant with another man’s child, while she was trying to unravel the mystery of her marriage... it was unthinkable. She shoved back the unwelcome fear, shaking her head. “No, there is nothing of that sort.”

  Her menses were only a few days late, and it often happened. Surely there was no reason to worry. Though she kept her tone even, inside, the tendrils of fear took root.

  “My lady, I know you do not wish to believe it, but this Viking is not of our world. On the night he came to us, I had prayed to the gods to send you a protector, someone to avenge you for what Lord Hawthorne did.” Her maid looked down at her hands, her shoulders lowered. “I have had visions in the past few days, and I have foreseen that he will be gone when the moon turns. But if there is a child, it will bind him unnaturally to this life.” Her maid gripped her hands together and said, “A dead man cannot sire a living child. It is impossible.”

  Juliana knew her maid believed in her visions and was more superstitious than most people. Normally, she paid little heed to Grelod’s words. But this time, it was different. She now believed that Arik had traveled through time, something that she’d never imagined was possible. Her maid was right in her assertion that conceiving a child with Arik Thorgrim was unnatural.

  “I don’t know what to believe,” Juliana admitted. But her legs were unsteady, and she took a chair, feeling faint.

  “I’ve seen the way he looks at you,” Grelod said. Her maid came forward and studied her closely. “Do not fall in love with him. He cannot stay here.”

  Juliana shook her head. “I am not in love with him.” She had separated herself from him in an effort to hold her distance and protect her heart. But she understood Grelod’s warning. Arik Thorgrim knew how to tempt her, how to bring her body such pleasure, she wanted to abandon all else for him.

  She rested her hands upon her stomach, swallowing hard. It will be all right, she told herself. Her grandmother had agreed to give Harry and her a place, somewhere safer than her father’s house. Mr. Thorgrim might have claimed that he wanted to fight her battles for her, but she didn’t need him to interfere. She had left him behind, and that was that. He would go his own way, and she would go hers.

  The thought shouldn’t have brought such a wave of loneliness, but she could do nothing to stop it.

  “If you find that you are with child, you must tell me of it immediately, my lady.”

  Her maid’s warning held a grim note that chilled her blood. “What are you so afraid of, Grelod?”

  “I’m afraid for your life,” her maid admitted. “If he planted a child within you, the child might not live... and you would be in danger, my lady.”

  A dark fear curled up within her. Surely it could not have happened. But she could not deny the slight chance.

  “We will not think of it,” she insisted. “All that matters now is finding the marriage registry and proving that Harry is legitimate.”

  Grelod said nothing, but helped pull back the coverlet. “Your grandmother does not believe you were ever married. She brought you here to find a new husband.”

  Juliana didn’t want to even imagine such a thing. What man would consider her for a wife now, after all the scandal she’d suffered? Moreover, she didn’t trust her instincts when it came to men. She had met William on the night of her debut, and he’d flirted outrageously with her. Within a matter of days, he’d planned their elopement, and she’d agreed to it.

  She had been far too naïve and innocent. Was that what had happened with Arik Thorgrim? Had she allowed her heart to lead her astray once again? Though she tried to shield her feelings, she could not stop thinking of this man. She missed his arrogance and the way he’d stared at her as if he wanted to spend every night at her side.

  Her grandmother intended for her to attend several soirees and assemblies, but Juliana couldn’t imagine it. She saw no reason to be dragged back into society, where people would stare at her and speak in whispers. No, she preferred to remain hidden, so no one could point fingers at her and cast blame.

  You’re a c
oward, an inner voice chided. If you hide, they’ll believe you have a reason. If she attended as the viscountess, she could stand tall as one who had a right to be there. But if Marcus showed up and intervened... Her cheeks burned with the thought of how humiliating that would be.

  A soft knock sounded on the door, and when Juliana called out for the person to enter, her grandmother walked into the bedroom.

  “We must talk about tomorrow evening,” she said. “I’ve arranged for you to attend Lady Spencer’s ball. There are many older gentlemen who will attend, and one of them could be a potential husband for you. He might be willing to overlook what happened, and he could help you provide for Harry.”

  “I don’t want to remarry, Grandmama,” she reminded the matron. “And I cannot wed anyone until I know what happened with William.” The idea of taking on a new household, seeing to a new husband’s needs, and enduring his touch was too much to consider.

  You enjoyed Arik’s touch, her wicked mind insisted. If he were your husband, you wouldn’t protest at all.

  But strangely, whenever she had protested his actions, he’d respected her when she had stood up to him. Arik had brought out her spirit, whereas a new husband would likely suppress it.

  “Everyone believes that you were William’s mistress,” Lady Traveston continued. “You must be prepared for that.”

  “I was his wife!” Juliana insisted. “I spoke the vows. I know what happened because I was there.”

  Her grandmother’s face hardened. “You were a girl of eighteen. And my investigators believe that you never reached Scotland, as he told you. The church you described wasn’t in Scotland—it was much farther south. And whatever vows you spoke meant nothing, because you did not have your father’s permission. Your so-called marriage was invalid from the start.”

  “That cannot be true.” Her head was beginning to ache from all of the revelations. After Marcus had thrown her out, Papa had welcomed her home and had never once spoken about the marriage. “My father never protested at all. He seemed happy when I told him about our marriage.”