The Bride Spy

by Piper Davenport

  “No doubt.” Hannah giggled. “Where is he, anyway?”

  Sophie shifted in her seat. “Library. Andrew cornered Jamie as soon as we came through the foyer.”

  “Great.” Hannah wrinkled her nose. “They’ll be in there for hours.”

  Sophie laid her hands on her stomach. “Good thing I organized tea.”

  * * *

  Two hours later, Hannah went looking for Christopher. After an extensive search without success, she settled herself into the library and located the bottle of whiskey Michael had supposedly stashed in secret. Wasn’t much of secret, but no one let Michael know they were onto him. “Oh, how I wish I could imbibe.”

  “Are you planning on sharing that?”

  “I wish I could say no.” Hannah raised an eyebrow and handed Christopher the bottle. “Where have you been?”

  He closed the door and made his way over to her. “Andrew got a wire informing him that the man you beat up is dead. Sam had him in a separate cell from Thomas. Delilah’s in an entirely different building.”

  Hannah settled herself on the window seat and watched—with a little jealousy—her husband sip his drink. “How did he die?” Hannah narrowed his eyes. “Did Sam kill him?”

  Christopher’s eyes widened. “Why would you think that?”

  Hannah shrugged. “I don’t know... did he?”

  He shook his head. “No. The man apparently had something hidden in his cheek. A capsule of some kind.”

  She tapped her lip. “Wow. Suicide by poison... probably cyanide.”

  “Cyanide?”

  “It’s a quick way to die... although, it’s pretty brutal.”

  Christopher closed the distance between them. Tipping her chin up gently with his finger, he frowned. “Hannah, why is your face purple?”

  “Huh?”

  He ran a fingertip gently down her cheekbone. “You have a bruise that I cannot believe I didn’t notice before now.”

  “Oh, that.” Hannah dropped her head.

  Christopher’s eyes narrowed and his voice dropped an octave. “You knew about this and didn’t tell me?”

  Hannah stood and shrugged as she stepped away from him. “I plead the fifth.” Crossing his arms, he stared her down, and Hannah folded. “I put makeup over it earlier so you wouldn’t worry. It must be wearing off, because Emma and Sophie noticed it too.”

  “You made up the bruise?”

  Hannah rubbed her temple. “No... it’s foundation. Cover Girl.” She sighed. “It’s something that women in my time use to hide imperfections of the skin. The bruise was really bad when I woke up this morning, so I put a little on when you went to get the breakfast trays.”

  A low rumble escaped from his chest and he stalked out of the room, pulling the door open so hard it hit the wall.

  “Christopher?” she called. “Where are you going?” She waited a few minutes, moved to leave the room, and ran into something hard and wide.

  Christopher wrapped his hands around her shoulders. “Careful, sweetheart.”

  Glancing up, she frowned at her husband. “Where’d you go?”

  “Stephen is going to examine you.”

  “It’s a bruise, Knight.” Hannah huffed. “I don’t need a doctor.”

  Christopher kissed her nose. “He’s waiting for you in Michael’s office.”

  “Seriously?”

  “I’ll wait for you in the parlor.”

  Hannah pursed her lips. “Fine.”

  She mumbled under her breath as Christopher followed her to Michael’s office. Stephen examined her and deemed all was well. She opened the door find Christopher pacing the length of the hallway. Hannah stepped outside. “I thought you were going to the parlor.”

  He shrugged. “How are you?”

  “Nothing’s broken. It’s a bruise. I’ll heal.” She crossed her arms. “Happy now?”

  Christopher glanced at Stephen, who gave a quick nod. Christopher smiled down at Hannah and said, “Very happy.”

  “Okay, good. Can I tell you what Emma and I have discovered?”

  “Of course.”

  She led Christopher down the hall and back into the library. She filled him in on the ring and Emma’s description of Madame’s and watched as he rubbed his chin in thought. “Maybe the reason you couldn’t find him was because he’d jumped into the portal. What if there are multiple rings out there? They might not be so unique.”

  “I’ll speak to Jamie and Clayton and then we’ll have a conversation with Madame Desmarais.”

  “Well, I want to be there when you do.”

  “All right, sweetheart.”

  “Good. Can we please eat now?”

  Christopher took her hand and led her into the dining room. He assisted her to a seat and poured her some water. Hannah lifted the glass to her lips just as the butler stepped into the room.

  “Sorry to interrupt, Mrs. Butler,” Daniel said. “Madame Desmarais awaits you in the parlor. She insists on speaking with you.”

  Hannah glanced at Emma. “That was quick.”

  “I didn’t do anything.”

  Christopher took her hand. “Let’s see what she wants.” He led Hannah into the parlor and pulled her in front of him. “Madame?”

  “Bonjour, monsieur,” Madame said and then glanced at Hannah. “Oh, non! Your face... I am too late.”

  Hannah frowned. “For what?”

  Christopher crossed his arms slowly. “Perhaps you should take a seat and explain exactly what you mean by that.”

  Hannah’s heart raced as she sat on the sofa. Christopher stood behind her, next to the arm of the couch. Madame sat gingerly next to her. Christopher shifted his stance, and Hannah glanced up at him, narrowing her eyes at the action. He seemed much like a jungle cat ready to strike.

  Madame folded her hands in her lap and grimaced nervously at Christopher before focusing back on Hannah. “I had hoped to get to you before the Carys.”

  Hannah grasped Madame’s hand and pulled it forward. The ring on her finger was similar, but not quite a match to the one she’d seen on the intruder. “Using this?”

  Madame gasped. “Whatever do you mean?”

  “One of the men who tried to kill me was wearing one. But different than yours. Yours is a full watch face... his had half a watch face.” Hannah stared at her. “Does it open the portal?”

  Madame paused for several seconds before giving a reluctant nod. “Oui. Was the man wearing the ring Victor Cary?”

  “How would she know that?” Christopher interjected.

  Hannah held up her hand. “He’s all over the news, Knight. I know what he looks like.” She turned her focus back to Madame. “I don’t know if it was Victor... he wore a mask. I want to know everything about the rings. And I mean everything.”

  Madame rubbed her forehead. “There are three rings. They each serve a different purpose. The one I wear on my finger allows me to travel freely to any place in time. Only I can use it. The one you saw earlier allows the wearer limited access to the continuum, and the one I wear on a chain around my neck opens the portal for another person to travel through.” She pulled a silver chain from her bodice, and Hannah leaned forward. The ring was oval with raised edges and wavy lines in the middle, somewhat like a mirror.

  Hannah raised an eyebrow. “How is it you have two of the three rings?”

  “We had the third for a time as well.” Madame fisted her hands at her side. “It was worn by my husband, Philippe, but stolen when he let his guard down... in les toilettes of our local Olive Garden, for the love of God!”

  “You have gardens of olives?” Christopher asked.

  “I’ll explain later, Knight.” Hannah tried not to laugh at Madame’s strange story. “What does the Olive Garden have to do with time travel... or Victor Cary?”

  “Philippe took his ring off to... how do you say... lavez ses mains.” She made the motion of washing hands. “I have told him a hundred times never to take it off in public.” Madame said something in
French that Hannah surmised was a swear word from her intensity. “When he went to put it back on, it was gone.”

  “Do you think Victor stole it?”

  Madame nodded. “Oui. The restaurant was busy, les toilettes were small, so it was also full. Idiot!”

  Hannah covered her smile with her fingers. “Okay, let’s focus. Tell me why Victor cares about the ring.”

  “It’s not Victor. It is all for Theodore. Theodore approached me years ago after reading about the rings in one of the Cary diaries. There was an entry from 1791 that described the rings, and a crude sketch of one next to the words.”

  Hannah let out a frustrated squeal. “Why would Ted Cary approach you, Madame?”

  “Pardon. Theodore and I worked together on a project in France. I interpreted for him, and we’d often have him to the flat for dinner. He remembered Philippe and me wearing the rings.”

  “So, he reads about these rings in an ancestor’s diary...”

  “Oui.”

  “And did the diary mention time travel?” Hannah pressed.

  “Non. Just that they housed special powers. The ancestor was deeply religious and filled with superstition.”

  Hannah bit her lip. “Deeply religious as in fanatic or zealot? Or just really loved God.”

  Madame shook her head. “Insensé. Most definitely out of his right mind.”

  “Okay, so they get curious about the rings, steal your husband’s, and now they can travel back and forth, correct?”

  “Oui.”

  “So, what do they want here? Now?”

  “We are uncertain. Originally, we thought he was trying to eliminate the Wade family, however, he’s made no further attempts on Dr. Wade’s nephew... or Sophie and Emma, for that matter, so we are trying to find out what his new plan is.”

  “Why me?” Hannah pressed. “How do you know who is supposed to come back?”

  Madame slipped the chain back into her bodice and took a deep breath. “In the same way that each of the rings give a person the ability to travel through time, they also provide the ability to see the past and future. These glimpses appear in the forms of visions.”

  “Like dreams? Or are we talking psychic phenomenon here?”

  “More like dreams... on occasion, waking, other times not.”

  “So you have a dream and you’re told who has to go back?”

  Madame stroked her ring and pursed her lips. “Sometimes a person’s identity and purpose for travel is revealed. Other times, as guardians of the portal, it is much more difficult. We have to investigate and find clues as to the person’s whereabouts. It is not a simple process, nor is it infallible. Mistakes can be made and can have dire consequences.”

  “Did you dream that I was supposed to come back specifically, or did you have to ‘investigate’?”

  Madame smiled. “You specifically.”

  “Why?”

  Madame lowered her head and then took a deep breath. “You would have been killed had I not brought you back.”

  Christopher’s breath came out in a hiss, and Hannah reached for his hand as she sat forward in shock. “Tell me exactly what you mean by, killed?”

  “I dreamt that you were involved in an automobile accident, and that you must come to this time to save your life.”

  Hannah sighed. “Okay, so, Emma said that if I chose to go back, I’d have to stay in the future. How does that work?”

  “The mirror ring will only let you travel here and then back again. You get one chance.”

  Hannah pointed to the chain. “But I wasn’t wearing that ring when I came back.”

  Madame patted her hand. “So many questions, Hannah.”

  “And you’re going to answer each and every one.” Hannah forced a smile. “How did you transport me back here if I wasn’t wearing a ring?”

  “I traveled to your building in Chicago... to the room in the attic with the painting of Christopher.” She glanced toward Christopher. “An accurate likeness of you, by the way. I know it’s not painted until 1865, but the artist will do a wonderful job.”

  “Madame!” Hannah snapped. “Why is there a painting of Christopher in the room?”

  Madame shrugged. “I do not know, Hannah. That’s not been revealed.”

  “Fine. So, how does this all work?”

  “I slip the mirror ring onto my finger and reflect on the vision I have already been given... I suppose it’s akin to a type of meditation... and the portal will open in front of the person who needs to travel.”

  “So you don’t have to be there? You can do it from afar?” Hannah asked in surprise.

  “Oui. However, I have found that if I am close in proximity to the person, it is much easier, and there are fewer mistakes. So, in your case, I was in the room next to you. As I focused on my memories of my dream, I also kept the image of the portrait in my mind, as I secretly hoped that Christopher would find you and you’d fall in love.”

  “Sloppy romance novel aside, Madame... continue.”

  “Well, as you are here and Christopher has found you, I can say with certainty that everything happened quite naturally.”

  “Because traveling back in time is such a natural occurrence,” Hannah whispered.

  “Poor choice of words perhaps,” Madame conceded.

  “Where did the rings come from?”

  “The origin of the rings is not known to me, nor was it known to the person who entrusted them to Philippe and me. One thing is clear. The rings hold great power and can certainly be used as tools of good or evil. Right now, the Carys don’t know the full impact of the power they have, but the longer they have possession of that ring, the more they will learn, which will make traveling easier for them.”

  Hannah narrowed her eyes. “What do we do about Victor Cary now? If it was him in our parlor, then I’m assuming he’s transported himself home.”

  “That would be the right assumption. He would most likely return to the future to escape capture, as he cannot use the ring to transport himself from place to place in the same time. I will return and investigate.” Madame stood. “You are safe for at least a few days. There is a waiting time between travels. His ring will not work for three days after it has been used, so he cannot return for at least that amount of time.”

  “But what if he comes back three days ago, to try to kill me again?”

  Madame shook her head. “He cannot. The earliest he can return will be three days from now. Going to the future is different, but you shouldn’t be concerned about that.”

  Hannah bit her lip. “Can I get a message to my family?”

  “I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

  “They’ll be worried sick!”

  Madame sighed. “Let me make some inquiries. I won’t be able to find out for several days. Give me a week or so, and we’ll be in touch.”

  Hannah didn’t like that answer, but she knew she wouldn’t get another one. Madame moved to leave the room, but Hannah pulled her back. “Who else is supposed to come back?”

  Madame shook her head. “I do not know that, Hannah.”

  “Would you tell me if you did?”

  “Non. I’m sorry, Hannah.” Madame Desmarais left the room with a swish of her skirts, and Hannah slumped back on the couch with a curse.

  Christopher sat beside her and lifted her hand to his lips. “I think you should rest.”

  Hannah huffed. “I need to find out what everyone’s up to.”

  “Sam is interrogating Thomas, and Clayton and I will investigate further into what he was doing. We’ll get answers.” He squeezed her hand. “For you, my love, nothing can be done for at least a week, so you need to rest.”

  “Nice try. We’ve determined that my injury is a minor bruise, and Sophie’s in labor...” she patted his cheek, “... so that trumps you.”

  Christopher kissed her gently and then let her go. Hannah made her way upstairs and walked into the middle of a hurricane. Sophie refused to lie down. Jamie and Emma walked w
ith her up and down the hallway, while Stephen and Christine sterilized the instruments... again. Mostly upon Sophie’s insistence. Sophie got hit with a hard contraction and stopped to wait it out.

  Jamie grimaced as Sophie gripped his hand. “Baby, let Stephen check you again.”

  “Nope, not yet.” Pant. Pant. “I’m good.”

  Jamie rubbed her back. “Ten-Cow, he needs to check you.”

  “But it hurts!” she whined.

  Hannah sidled around them and stepped into the bedroom. “Can I help?”

  Christine motioned her to the bed. “Let’s get the linens ready, so they’ll be easier to change.”

  Jamie and Emma guided Sophie into the room and within seconds, she was hit with another contraction. Sophie grabbed his arm, still wrapped around her back, and shoved it way from her body. “I want an epidural!”

  Stephen flanked her and smiled. “Let’s get you on the bed. I need to check you.”

  Jamie helped her up onto the mattress. Stephen checked her one more time and confirmed what he already suspected. “You’re dilated to ten and completely effaced, Sophie. You’re going to have to push soon.”

  She stared up at Jamie, a look that spoke volumes. “Baby’s coming.”

  “I know.” Jamie smiled, although the smile didn’t quite reach his worried eyes.

  Another contraction hit. “I can’t do this.”

  Jamie took her hand and kissed her knuckles. “Yes, you can. I’m right here.”

  Stephen positioned himself at the foot of the bed. “Okay, Sophie... next contraction, get ready to push.”

  The contraction came quicker than before and Sophie tried her best to breathe and push through it.

  Less than an hour later, James William Ford II, arrived healthy and hungry, and Hannah couldn’t stop the swell of emotion at the realization that this would be her experience sooner than she could have ever imagined.

  Once everything calmed down, Hannah settled in the parlor with Christopher and the rest of the family and let the love and excitement blanket over her.

  Her future had been decided, and as she gazed up at her husband and tucked her bare feet under her skirts, she knew she couldn’t have planned it any better.

  Copyright ©2018 Piper Davenport