She reached back to run her hand along her side and felt the deep ridges of skin. Twisting, she tried to see what was there.
Graydon got up, removed a small mirror from the wall, and held it so she could see the long, wide scars down her side. “I think you were burned, and badly.”
Toby handed him the mirror and sat up in the bed, pulling the sheet over her. “I have no burn scars but I do have a row of small pink birthmarks running down my side. My dad used to say they were a map of undiscovered islands.”
Graydon sat on the side of the bed holding the mirror. “You are in Tabby’s body,” he said softly. “Last night I could feel the ridges on you and I thought of what you must have been through to leave such deep scars. But it wasn’t you who had endured the pain.”
The idea that she was in someone else’s body was almost more difficult to comprehend than the idea of time travel. Right now it seemed that she and Graydon were in some historic inn, with a very authentic bed—except that everything was new. Two hundred years hadn’t passed, so the furniture didn’t have that years-old patina that made it into antiques.
“What about you?” Toby asked. “Anything different?”
“I don’t believe there is.” His eyes began to twinkle. “But perhaps you would like to search.”
“I think that would be best,” Toby said solemnly.
When he leaned toward her, she ran her hand over his hard, flat abs, across his shoulder, and down a muscular arm. “I have nothing to compare you to, but you look and feel fine to me.” She put both her hands on him. It was wonderful to see and touch him. “Do you feel any different to yourself?”
“No,” he said, his eyes darkening with passion as she drew closer. When the mirror started to fall, he caught it and twisted to the side to put it on the little table by the bed.
“Oh, my!” Toby said, her eyes wide and her hand to her mouth. “Your back!”
“Is it scarred?” he asked as he turned his back fully toward her.
“No scars anywhere.” Toby was trying to contain her laughter but couldn’t help herself. He handed her the mirror and she held it so he could see. The entire left side of Graydon’s back was covered in a truly magnificent tattoo. It was unmistakably Japanese and in vivid color. The image was of a woman, her hair pinned up on her head. What was unusual was that her hair was a golden blonde and her eyes were blue.
Graydon twisted about as he stared into the mirror. “Is that who I think it is?”
“I’m not sure, but I think it’s me as a geisha.”
“That’s what I thought,” Graydon said as he put down the mirror. They looked at each other for a moment, then burst out laughing.
Graydon stretched out beside Toby and pulled her into his arms. “I can assure you that in real life I have no tattoos.”
“Not even an ankle butterfly?” Toby was still laughing.
“I must say that this one is rather remarkable, isn’t it?”
“And stupendously flattering.” Toby looked up at him. “I’m glad you were able to negotiate this marriage for them. Any man who loves a woman as much as Garrett loves Tabby should spend his life with her.”
Suddenly, she was feeling very sleepy, which made sense, as they’d been awake all night.
“I want to stay here,” Graydon said. “With you. I want the life we could have here.” He put his hand on her cheek and lifted her face to his. Her eyes were closed. “Toby, do you know how much I love you? Do you have any idea how much it’s going to destroy me to leave you? I don’t think I can—” He broke off because he saw that she was asleep.
He started to say more, but he too was overwhelmed with sleepiness. “No,” he whispered. “I don’t want to sleep.” He was very much afraid that he’d wake up and all this would be gone. But he couldn’t stay awake.
With their bodies tightly entwined, they slept.
Toby awoke slowly and for a moment she didn’t know where she was. It was full daylight but the shades were down so the room was dim. Hanging from the door hinge was the beautiful gown she’d worn to the dinner party last night and she was glad she’d taken the time to put it on a padded hanger. For a moment she looked up at the ceiling, remembering the party. It had certainly been a success! Victoria had agreed to the theme and …
She sat up in bed. Had they really gone to Kingsley House and torn apart the window seat? She rubbed her hand across her eyes. Surely that had been one of her dreams. She also seemed to remember arguing with Graydon over something to do with Tabby and Garrett but she couldn’t remember exactly what.
Feeling a bit confused—too much to drink?—she got up, took a shower, and washed her hair. Last night it had been sprayed and gelled and moussed in an attempt to make it stay up, and she wanted all of it out. She dressed in jeans and a pink cotton shirt and went downstairs. It was going to take some work to clean up after the party.
But the house was in perfect order, with no sign of the previous night’s gathering. Nor was there anyone around.
On the table in the sunroom were a bowl of fruit and a note from Graydon. “Yogurt in the fridge. I’m outside. Take your pick.”
What an odd thing to say, Toby thought as she scooped yogurt onto the fruit and began to eat. Anyone reading it would think there was a great deal more between them than there was. But then, maybe it wasn’t what he’d written but the note itself that was unusual. She seemed to remember Graydon writing something with a quill pen. There had been candlelight and some old document—only it wasn’t old. Some man was saying that the ink wasn’t yet dry.
The vision seemed to come and go in seconds and she couldn’t think where it had come from. When she heard the clash of steel on steel, she went to the window and looked out.
Daire and Graydon, their upper bodies bare, honey-colored skin glistening with sweat, were, as usual, attacking each other. Nearby, Lorcan was watching them intently. Toby started to raise her hand to wave but someone knocked on the front door so she went to answer it.
She opened the door to see her friend Alix standing there.
For a full three minutes there was nothing but hugging and laughing and talking on top of each other. It was the first time Alix had been back to the island since her wedding.
“Did you have a wonderful time?” Toby asked.
“Fabulous. All of it! Has anything happened that I missed out on? Have you heard from Lexie?” Alix asked. “Dad said you have some interesting visitors.”
“Come and see.” Toby linked arms with Alix and led her through the kitchen to the sunroom windows. Outside, the two beautiful men were now wrestling, their strong bodies clad only in loose white trousers that were hanging so low they looked to be in danger of falling off.
“This is what you wake up to every morning?” Alix asked. “Talk about honey on toast!”
Toby sighed. “Yes. Honey. Acres of it.”
“So remind me which one is yours.”
Toby turned away. “Neither of them. Daire, the taller one, is in love with Lorcan.” She nodded to the woman on the sidelines.
“I didn’t even see her there,” Alix said.
Toby laughed. “I know what you mean. See that flower bed on the far left? It gives me the best view of the men. I water the flowers in that poor bed for so long they’re in danger of being waterlogged. But then, whenever Lorcan and I feel we’re being ignored, we get the men back by doing yoga—with lots of rear-end-up poses.”
Alix was watching Toby. “It sounds like you’ve set up a family here, but Mom said they’re all going to leave soon.”
“Yes,” Toby said, her voice showing her dread of that event. “In about two and a half weeks Graydon will return to his country and announce his engagement to another woman.”
Alix put her hand on her friend’s arm. “Mom said you and Graydon were becoming …” She didn’t finish that sentence because she thought it was better not to tell everything her mother, Victoria, had to say about Graydon and Toby. “He’s going to break her heart!
” Victoria had said, anger in her voice. “He’s going to ride away on his black stallion, sword in hand, and leave dear little Toby crying so hard her life will be destroyed.”
Since her mother tended to dramatically exaggerate at times, Alix hadn’t paid a lot of attention to what she’d said. But now, looking at Toby’s face, she thought maybe her mother was right.
Looking back out the window, Alix saw that the men had stopped trying to kill each other and were picking up equipment. They’d soon be coming inside.
“Why don’t you and I go to Kingsley House and talk?” Alix said. “I want to hear every word of what’s been going on while I was away. Besides, I have a few things I want to tell you.”
“Your dad said you were terrorizing Jared’s whole office.”
“No, of course not,” Alix said as they walked toward the front door. “Well, maybe a little.”
The two women laughed all the way to Kingsley House, and it was only later that Toby realized she hadn’t left a note to tell Graydon where she was. But she shrugged. It wasn’t as though there was anything permanent between them. They were roommates and that was all.
“Graydon,” Toby said for what seemed to be the hundredth time, “I don’t know anything about the history of Japanese tattoos. I’m really glad that, in their quest to find more goods for importing to the U.S., sailors sometimes endured the pain of having them done. That’s all deeply interesting, but I’ve been a little too busy to give tattoos my full attention.”
She was glaring at him, her eyes letting him know that she’d had enough of his very strange behavior in the week since the dinner party. After she’d returned from spending the day with Alix and Jared and other friends, Graydon had greeted her as though she’d been away for a year. He’d swooped her into his arms and kissed her in a very intimate way.
It hadn’t helped that for that entire day, she’d been lectured by members of the Kingsley family about how she must not get too close to Graydon. As if she weren’t already deeply aware of it, they repeatedly told her that he was going to leave soon and she’d probably never see him again.
“You will be devastated when he leaves,” Victoria said, her lovely face full of fear as well as warning.
Their words reminded Toby of what she already knew, and by the time she was ready to leave, her resolve had hardened. The dinner party had brought her and Graydon closer, but she knew she must stop it. It didn’t help when she entered her house and Graydon pulled her into his arms and kissed her as she’d never been kissed before. In the past his kisses had been reserved. Nice but not full of … well, of passion. But the man who met her at the door didn’t seem to be Prince Graydon but someone else. Her lover, was the first thought that came to her mind.
The truth was that if Lorcan and Daire hadn’t been there, every word Toby had heard that day, every warning of the dire consequences of falling for Graydon, would have flown out the window. She had no doubt that she would have given in to his kisses to the point of losing her virginity on the dining room table.
But Lorcan and Daire were there, both of them staring in openmouthed astonishment, their Lanconian reserve overridden by their shock.
It was Daire who dropped a stack of books, thus reminding the two people who were so deeply kissing, with Toby’s leg around Graydon’s hip, that they weren’t alone.
“Put me down!” she hissed.
“Yes, of course,” he answered. “Later, in private, we’ll be together.”
He moved away too fast for her to answer him that they would not “be together” later. When Toby looked at Daire, she saw his disapproval.
Embarrassed, Toby ran up to her room. When throwing cold water on her face didn’t cool her, she stripped off and stepped into an icy shower. As she shivered under the water, she began to have visions of Graydon’s hands on her, of her hands on him. At one point, she seemed to see his smile as he promised to spend his life with her—then he slipped a gold ring onto her finger.
She put her hands over her face and let the cold water beat down on her. This had to stop! It couldn’t go on. She must do whatever it took to halt these fantasies about him. He belonged to another woman. No! His body, his mind, his very soul belonged to another country. He loved that place so much that he was willing to marry a woman he didn’t love, which would probably alienate his beloved brother. If Graydon had such firm principles that he was willing to do all that, then Toby was going to help him by not further complicating his life. She wasn’t going to make his parting harder for him—or her—than it was already going to be.
Besides, she had her own sanity to protect.
By the next morning she’d strengthened her vow to just be friends with Graydon. The way to do that was to bury herself in work—and maybe that would put a stop to her ridiculous visions. She had two jobs and she dove into them, trying her best to fill her mind with tasks that needed to be done.
Over the next week she spent a lot of time in the garden that Jared had given her to landscape. However, the first time she went there alone she had visions of the garden at the BEYOND TIME house. But she could imagine only a part of it and she kept thinking that there was a full grown tree missing. She thought of asking Dr. Huntley if he knew anything about that garden, but she decided it was better not to dwell on it. The house wasn’t hers and truthfully, she had no desire to ever enter it again.
In addition to the garden, she was busy with Victoria’s wedding. Now that she had a theme, she could move forward. And daily, things were added to her long list of what she had to do.
One evening Toby was deep into designing what would be historically correct flower arrangements when Graydon said, “Too bad you’re working so hard to make everything accurate when only the bride and groom will be in costume. Perhaps everyone should dress in that manner.”
Toby glanced at the guest list Victoria had given her. There were some very famous people, especially authors, on it. “How could we get the guests to dress in costume? That’s not something Americans like to do.”
“At home, I’d just tell them to,” Graydon said. “If they want to come to a ball at the palace, they dress up in whatever they’re told to wear.”
“But that was when you were a prince,” she said, looking down at her laptop. She didn’t see the way Daire and Lorcan exchanged smiles.
Graydon picked up his phone. “I think we should ask the American queen how to get the guests to do this.”
“Victoria,” Toby said, and Graydon nodded as she took his phone and tapped out HOW DO WE GET YOUR ILLUSTRIOUS GUESTS TO DRESS IN COSTUME? and sent it.
It was only a minute before Victoria replied. OFFER PRIZES. THEY’RE ALL CUTTHROAT AMBITIOUS SO MAKE THEM COMPETE.
“Sounds good to me,” Graydon said. “Should we commission medals to be awarded?”
“How about dances with a prince?” Toby said.
Graydon’s eyes sparkled. “I’ll see if Rory can attend.”
Laughing, she went back to the planning, and again she didn’t see the look Daire and Lorcan gave each other.
When people responded just as Victoria said they would, Toby was deluged with calls. Every author wanted to know what every other author was going to wear. They said it was so there wouldn’t be duplicates. Victoria said it was so they could outdo one another. She explained that the number two New York Times bestselling authors wanted to make sure their costumes were more elaborate than the number one bestsellers. “But simplicity was the cornerstone of Regency dress,” Toby said.
“Tell that to number three on the list,” Victoria answered.
Between the garden and the wedding, Toby was nearly overwhelmed with work. Lorcan helped so much that she soon became Toby’s unofficial assistant. Toby loved to hear Lorcan on the phone with Victoria’s famous author friends. Lorcan was no-nonsense, gave no sympathy, and revealed all. She encouraged the competition with vivid descriptions of everything from hand-sewn pearls to shoes with crystal-encrusted buckles. When she clicked off, she g
ave Toby a wicked smile. It looked like Victoria’s wedding was going to sparkle!
Toby relayed everything to Victoria via email, as she was deep into writing her latest novel—this one about the misfortunes of Valentina Montgomery Kingsley.
“Does she cry while she’s writing?” Graydon asked at dinner.
At first Toby thought he was joking, but he wasn’t. His face was serious. “I don’t know,” Toby replied, “but I’ll ask Alix.”
“How did you know that?!” Alix said over the phone. “The last three times I talked to Mom she’d been crying while writing. She says it’s as though she’s lived this book and it’s tearing her heart out.” Alix gave a little sound of exasperation. “Of course her editor loves this! She says that if authors cry, readers cry, and tears sell books.”
“A bit callous,” Toby said, “but understandable. So what are you and Jared up to?”
That’s when Alix dropped the bombshell that Victoria wanted Toby to design the wedding dress.
“No,” Toby said firmly. “That’s the bride’s job, not mine.”
“That’s a good way to start,” Alix said, “but I bet you a dinner at Languedoc that Mom will win.”
“You’re on,” Toby said. “There are limits to planning a wedding for someone else.” Victoria won.
Days after the dinner, Victoria called Toby and said she wanted her to “deal with”—as she called it—her wedding gown.
“But I’m sure that is something you’ll want to do yourself,” Toby said, her voice as firm as she could make it.
“I would love to,” Victoria said, “but I didn’t get Valentina’s journal until recently, and I’m months behind on my deadline. My readers have never before had to wait this long, and besides, in this economy I can’t very well stop working, now, can I? You don’t want to disappoint millions of readers all over the world, do you?”
“I guess not,” Toby said, “but how am I to choose your wedding gown?” Her eyebrows were so high they were about to disappear into her hair.
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