Separated from My Love (Linked Across Time Book 7)

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Separated from My Love (Linked Across Time Book 7) Page 4

by Dawn Brower


  “Have you lost your ability to speak?” The man brushed a lock of his dark hair back and leaned down. His face was mere inches from Trenton’s, and he could almost make out all the variations of green in his eyes. Was this a form of intimidation? He almost laughed at the man, but held it in. “One of you had better start speaking, or I’ll have you both hauled to Newgate.”

  “I don’t suppose you could tell us where we are?”

  Trenton needed information. If they were in the nineteenth century, they’d be closer to finding Genevieve. The problem was he had no clue where to start looking. Well, that wasn’t exactly true. If they were in the correct time he could start at Weston or Seabrook. Someone at one of those estates would be able to give him an idea. But by the looks of the room they were in, they were not at either estate.

  “I’ll be the one asking the questions,” the man ordered and stood up straight. “Why don’t we start with your names.”

  Serenity remained quiet and stared at the man as if she didn’t understand him. What was she puzzling over? Trenton sighed and turned his attention back to the stranger. The man was older than him. Worry lines were etched around his eyes and on his forehead. Physically, he appeared strong and fit. He couldn’t be that old… Trenton figured his age to be somewhere in his mid to late thirties. His clothing was fine and tailored to perfection. In the nineteenth century that meant he was most likely well off. With those little bits of information Trenton assumed he was upper class and probably a member of the aristocracy.

  “Right, so you won’t tell us where we are. Maybe instead you could tell us the year?” Trenton had to get something out of him. He wasn’t sure if he should mention their names to the strange man. What if it did something irreparable to history? So far, he hadn’t mentioned his or Serenity’s strange clothes. Why hadn’t he thought to get some period appropriate attire?

  The man scrunched up his eyebrows. “How bad did you hit your head when you fell?”

  Trenton rubbed the back of his head. Well, apparently pretty damn hard. The pain had come down to a dull throbbing but wouldn’t completely ebb without some kind of painkiller. He could handle anything that was thrown at him if it led him to Genevieve. She was more important than any discomfort he may feel.

  “Not hard enough to realize you haven’t answered any of my questions,” Trenton replied.

  “I could say the same to you.” The man quirked a brow. “You’ve been decidedly uncooperative. I think its time to call this meeting a draw and have a couple of my men deliver you to the prison. Perhaps you will feel more receptive to talking after a night or two in the bowels of London’s seediest part of society.”

  He folded his arms across his chest and waited for Trenton to answer. How should he play it? The man probably had the connections to make that threat happen. He didn’t want to spend any time in Newgate, and he wasn’t exactly sure if either he or Serenity could survive it.

  “What are you hiding?” Serenity finally spoke.

  The man’s gaze swung to hers. It was as if he noticed her for the first time. He must have preferred to give Trenton his full attention because with Serenity in his line of sight he almost seemed—disconcerted. Trenton glanced at her and noted her appearance. He’d barely paid her any mind when she arrived at Weston. She had on a filmy violet dress that stopped at her ankles, a modern touch to a traditional Regency gown, and her mahogany-red hair was tumbled from their journey. Serenity looked completely mussed, and it was almost… The one word that came to mind was sexy. She had the appearance of having been well and truly loved. That had to be what drew the man’s attention.

  “I assure you I have nothing to hide.”

  “Bullshit,” she said. “I see you.”

  Ah… Her mysterious aura thing. She was seeing that side of him he couldn’t hide. Trenton wished he understood it and what exactly she was reading off him.

  “Don’t be daft,” the man said. “Of course you see me. It’s not as if I have the ability to be invisible. Though that would be a handy skill to have.”

  Trenton ignored the man and asked her, “Can we trust him?”

  She turned to meet his gaze. After a few moments, she nodded her head in the affirmative. “I’m not sure what secrets he is keeping though. I don’t like it.”

  “This exchange has been lovely,” the man said. “No, I’m lying. It hasn’t been. Why don’t we stop talking around each other? Clearly you two are here for a purpose and are failing miserably.”

  The man had no idea how much that hit the mark. They were doing abysmally. Trenton had to put faith in Serenity’s ability to read the man though. If he was trustworthy enough, sharing some secrets might be acceptable. They had to start somewhere—why not with him. “My name is Trenton and this is Serenity.”

  “That’s a start.” The man turned to stare at Serenity and then back at Trenton. “Now, tell me why you’re invading my home.”

  Trenton glanced at Serenity who shrugged. “I don’t know how it works or why we’re here. I have to assume that the mirror took us as close to Genevieve as possible.”

  The man stiffened as Serenity spoke. “Could you repeat what you said?”

  Serenity narrowed her eyes into tiny slits. “You do know something, don’t you? My, look at all those colors swirling around you.”

  “Is she always like this?” he asked Trenton, bewildered. His eyes narrowed as he stared at her speculatively.

  “I wouldn’t know. I don’t spend too much time in her company. Is she right? Do you know where Genevieve is?” That had to be what Serenity was referring to. Were they close to her? Had the mirror led them to the spot where they were most likely to find her?

  “Do you know who I am?” the man asked.

  As if they would? If they did, Trenton would never have asked him to tell him where they were. This had to be some sort of stalling tactic. “I can’t say that I do.”

  “I’m Brandon Bennett, the fifth Duke of Branterberry.” He scoffed. “And you dare to come into my home and make demands of me. I have more power than you could ever dream of.”

  Trenton didn’t want to be in this man’s place for anything in the world. He had one desire, and it wasn’t to be a powerful duke in the nineteenth century. But now that he had a name, he had something to work with. He did know who the Duke of Branterberry was. He was Dominic Rossington’s former boss and head of that particular branch of the war office. It explained why Serenity thought he was keeping secrets. As the head spymaster, he probably held more than anyone else.

  A smile grew on Trenton’s face as he studied the duke. “Well, Your Grace, it’s a pleasure to meet you. I don’t suppose you can supply the year now too?”

  The duke sighed. “I’m not going to even attempt to understand why that is so important to you, but it is currently the summer of 1819.”

  So almost a full year since Dominic Rossington had rescued Rosanna Kendall in France—that was the last instance he could find where Genevieve was seen by anyone. Rosanna had written about her interactions with her friend, Eve in her journals. He turned toward Serenity and said, “I think we are where we need to be.”

  “Well, that’s too bad because you both are leaving. I refuse to have you stinking up my home any longer.” He glanced down to the mess Trenton had made on the floor. “I’m going to have to dispose of that rug. I did like it too.”

  “You’re suddenly in a hurry to see the backside of us.” Trenton drew his brows together. “What changed in the past few moments? You were ready to send us to Newgate.”

  Something Trenton realized was entirely possible. The Duke of Branterberry did have the power to make that happen. They were in the Branterberry’s home, but he wasn’t sure if it was his London townhouse or his country estate. He wasn’t even sure which he wanted it to be. Neither one was particularly close to Weston or Seabrook. To return home, they would have to make their way to Weston. It held the one mirror they knew for certain would allow them to travel though time. It wo
uld also give him the opportunity to check in with Alys. Regina would want to know how her sister was doing. Of course, none of that mattered if he didn’t find Genevieve first.

  “I’m not sure you’re worth the hassle.”

  “I assure you we’re not,” Trenton said. “Serenity and I will be on our way soon enough. I do have a couple more questions first though.”

  The duke glowered at him. “I’m afraid I can’t entertain your silly need to pepper me with inane questions any longer. I must insist you leave immediately.” Branterberry walked over to the closed door and flung it open. He waved his hand, gesturing they depart.

  Interesting, but he wasn’t buying what the duke was selling. He didn’t have time to play games any longer. He wanted to find the love of his life and go home. The duke was standing in his way, and something in his gut told him the man standing before him was fully aware where Genevieve was. Trenton stood and met the duke’s gaze. He didn’t waver for a second as he said, “Where is Genevieve.”

  “I don’t know anyone by that name,” the duke said.

  “He’s lying,” Serenity said hopping to her feet. “He’s swirling in a sea or secrets and lies, but this one is practically glowing off him.”

  “I am not lying,” the duke said.

  Serenity moved toward him and cupped his cheeks in her hands forcing him to look her in the eyes. “She’s here in this house, isn’t she?”

  Trenton smiled. He’d never been more grateful than at that moment Serenity was with him. Nothing was better than seeing one of the crown’s best spymaster’s flustered and unsure what to do. He fumbled with the door handle as if trying to decide if he should close it or push them out. Serenity saw auras—she hadn’t mentioned she was a built in lie detector.

  His nostrils flared as he clenched his hands into fists at his side. “I refuse to give into your strange intimidation or confirm your suspicions.” The duke practically squirmed under Serenity’s bombardment. His gaze shifted past her and then he glanced back. She met his gaze boldly and winked. The duke flinched as if she’d actually touched him.

  “You already have.” Serenity smiled sweetly and moved closer to him. “I told you already—I see you—all of you. There is no hiding anything from me.”

  If Trenton had more time, it might be interesting to see the duke fold under her form of interrogation. His Grace had never seen anyone like her, and admittedly Trenton hadn’t either. He didn’t particularly envy the duke.

  The man took an involuntary step back, and his head bounced off of the back of the door. Trenton would have laughed, but it wasn’t appropriate. He still didn’t know where Genevieve was. A movement at the entrance caught his attention. He turned his gaze toward it and sucked in a deep breath. Standing before him, as beautiful as he remembered, was Genevieve. Her auburn hair was tied up into an elegant chignon. But what hurt was her lack of interest in seeing him. She dismissed him with that one glance and turned her attention to the duke and Serenity.

  “Do you require assistance, Your Grace?” she asked.

  “Not at all,” he replied. “These two were leaving.”

  Like hell they were. He wasn’t going anywhere without Genevieve…

  Chapter 4

  Genevieve made sure to keep her gaze off Trenton, unsure how to proceed. She didn’t want to give him any indication she’d recognized him immediately. When she first saw him standing in the room, she’d been in shock. Was she seeing things? No, he was there, and if she wanted to, she could reach out and touch him. Oh, how she wanted to… She’d been in the past for so long that she’d given up on him coming for her. Her psychic connection to Regina had stopped suddenly, and she hadn’t been able to figure out why. She assumed it was because Trenton no longer wanted her.

  So she accepted her fate and made a life for herself in the past. The Duke of Branterberry had graciously offered her employment as his son’s governess. Over the past six months, she’d grown close to both the duke and his son, Sebastian. The little Marquess of Chisenhall was an adorable cherub of merely five years and was a replica of his father down to the emerald green eyes and midnight dark hair.

  She almost felt as if she was a part of their family, and Brandon, the Duke of Branterberry, had been trying to convince her to make that official. He proposed at least once a day. Genevieve wasn’t a fool though. She fully realized he was asking so his son would have a mother again. Still she’d considered it every time he asked and dismissed it. Why not grab onto at least the appearance of happiness? What else would she have if she didn’t? Something made her hold back and refuse each time though. Maybe, even though she’d believed it futile, a small part of her still hoped for something more.

  Now her past was catching up to her. Trenton was there, and she had to make a choice. She didn’t know what to make of any of it, or why Serenity was with him. As far as she was aware, Aubriella’s stepsister had never even met Trenton. How much had she missed being trapped in a different century? Did she even have a chance at claiming any of it? More importantly, did she want to? Maybe the best course of action was to take none. She needed time, and maybe a little distance, to come to a decision.

  “Your son is ready for bed, Your Grace,” she said. “He’s awaiting a bedtime story from you. He claims you promised him one.”

  “I did.” The duke frowned. “Let me see our guests out first.”

  “I’m not going anywhere,” Trenton said vehemently. He took two long strides to stand in front of her. He lifted his hand and placed one of his thumbs under her chin. “Eve, we’re here to bring you home.”

  Genevieve jerked away and took a step back. “It’s a little too late, don’t you think?” How dare he assume she still wanted him! It didn’t matter that it was true. He hurt her desperately, and she wasn’t so sure she could trust him with her heart ever again. What if she did and he crushed it once more? She might not be able to recover a second time. Perhaps she should accept the duke’s proposal. Brandon was safe, at least—he couldn’t break her heart. He didn’t have the power to destroy a piece of her soul, and she did love his son. They could be her family, and she might find a sliver of happiness along the way. The duke could continue working for the crown as its premier spy, and she’d make sure his son was taken care of. “Besides, I’m already spoken for.”

  The duke’s gaze locked with hers. He seemed to understand immediately what she was saying without having it spelled out to him. “She’s correct. Genevieve has agreed to be my wife. We’re to be married by special license in two days.”

  Damn, that man was good at lies. When would he have had time to procure a license? Hell, he probably did it before he even asked her. The blasted man liked to be prepared for any and all possibilities.

  Serenity turned her head and studied first Genevieve and then Brandon. “There is something not right here. They aren’t exactly lying…” She frowned and scrunched her nose up. “They believe what they are saying, but I don’t think they decided until this very moment what their action would be.”

  Damn it. How had she forgotten about Serenity’s ability? It had been unnerving to grow up around her. It had been worse for Aubriella because they’d shared a household. It was one of the reasons Genevieve hadn’t visited her and insisted she come to her house instead. Serenity and Peyton’s gifts drove them both crazy. She’d been away from home too long to have let that bit of information slip her mind. At least they weren’t telling full out lies. Serenity wouldn’t be able to manage a definitive reading of their aura.

  Trenton stepped toward her. His gaze softened as he stared at her. The muscles in his cheek twitched and his voice was shaky as he said, “Eve…”

  She shook her head. “We haven’t been together in years. We both moved on with our lives. You married someone else, and I’m going to be a duchess.”

  Genevieve didn’t give a damn about being a duchess. Words kept spilling out of her mouth without her brain fully engaging. She should backtrack and deny it all, but now she
felt stuck. Marrying Brandon wouldn’t be so bad… If she kept telling herself that, she might believe it. What the hell was wrong with her? She couldn’t make a decision and stick to it to save her life.

  “Since when did you ever care about that kind of nonsense?” Trenton asked. “What happened to you?”

  She laughed sardonically. “You mean you don’t know?” She pointed at Serenity and said, “She couldn’t help you, or her know-it-all sister?” She turned to face Serenity. “Peyton didn’t do her magic and figure out where I was? Oh, wait … she did, didn’t she? That’s why you are here. I wasn’t important enough to find sooner, was I?”

  Peyton and Serenity were Aubriella’s wicked stepsisters. They weren’t bad on principle, but had their own moral code they followed—one that didn’t always work in Aubriella’s favor or often, by default, Genevieve's. There wasn’t a lot of love lost between them. Genevieve took her cousin’s side over them, and they’d taken that to heart. The distance between them grew as they aged and there hadn’t been any apparent way to bridge the gap. Why would they have worked to save her? She hadn’t exactly given Peyton or Serenity a reason to help her.

  She fully realized that she was being irrational. It wasn’t as if she was buried in a cave that could be dug out with heavy machinery. The task to find her had been daunting. Talking to Regina telepathically had drained her each time, and it had taken her a long time to even make that contact. She shouldn’t resent them for not coming sooner, but she couldn’t help it. After months and months of no one coming for her or finding a way home, she’d let doubt fester inside of her. She should be happy to see Trenton, and even Serenity, but she couldn’t let go of her preconceived notion that they’d given up on her.

  “Don’t attack her. Without her, I’d never have made it here. I am not capable of traveling through time on my own. It takes someone with special abilities.”

 

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