Echoes of Tomorrow

by Jenny Lykins

  Elise dragged her knuckles across her skirt to wipe away the feel of Jeff's lips. She could think of nothing to say that wouldn't sound petty. One thing was certain - Lilianna would be hearing about her unfortunate choice of men.

  "Reed, sugar, I really am exhausted. Could I persuade you to abandon your...charming houseguest to see me home?" Angeline fluttered her eyelashes so blatantly Elise wanted to puke.

  "No need for that, Cuz. I am on my way to Mon Coeur as we speak. I can tether Zephyr to your carriage and see you home myself. Save Blackwell the trip." Jeff slid his hand under his cousin's elbow and guided her toward the door.

  Angeline clearly wasn't expecting this, nor did she like it.

  Elise didn't miss the veil of innocence she threw over her calculating look.

  "Oh. I had expected you to go into town and...do whatever it is gentlemen do there."

  Jeff's single bark of laughter was like a trumpet blast.

  "No, Cuz. No plans for a night on the town. I believe I will strive for respectability and see what that feels like."

  "But there is no need to do so on my account." She seemed to realize what she was saying before it was completely said.

  "Oh, but I wouldn't dream of turning respectable for a cousin." Jeffrey laughed when he said it. "But I can assure you I have my reasons."

  He gave Elise a smoky look and held it until it was clear that Reed had seen it, too.

  Elise took a deep breath.

  There was that urge to puke again.

  Elise didn't seem in quite as big a rush to go upstairs once Angeline and Vancoeur were gone. Angeline had made a few more feeble attempts to dispense with Jeffrey but gave up when Reed took the opportunity to shake the man's hand and thank him for being so thoughtful.

  Reed was glad to see them both go. He was beginning to wonder if this nightmare of a gathering would ever end.

  And those looks Vancoeur had given Elise. Well, he had to keep reminding himself that Elise was not his.

  Not his. Oh, God. The mere thought cut like a knife. He balled his hand into a fist and only barely kept himself from slamming it onto the desk.

  Action was what he needed to keep from dwelling on the pain. But first he had to make sure Elise was as comfortable as possible. He poured a goblet of water for her and measured in a dose of laudanum left by Doctor Freeport.

  "Reed, I'm ready to go to bed now."

  Bed. He closed his eyes and swallowed hard.

  "Dri...ahem...drink this. The doctor left it for you, for the pain."

  Elise took a sip, then screwed up her face and shuddered.

  "Yuk. What is this stuff, anyway?"

  "Nasty, isn't it? It's laudanum."

  "Whew. No wonder it gave people nightmares. Just the taste could do it to you." Elise took a deep breath and downed the rest without stopping.

  Reed wondered at her choice of the word "gave." Perhaps it was best if he didn't question her right now. She'd had a trying day as it was. He ignored the niggling fingers of familiarity that scratched away at his memory. Just as he had ignored or excused all the other odd occurrences. His flashes of deja vu, the sight of them dancing, the white streaks across the sky that weren't there - all those he attributed to distraction. Elise's strange words, her use of the past tense, and her unorthodox way of speaking he explained away by her illness or accident or whatever it was that had brought her to him.

  Verda slipped into the room just about the time Elise finished her second round of shuddering. The little servant gave her a sympathetic pat on the shoulder and whisked a teacake into Elise's hand.

  "You try a bite of this, Miss ‘Lise. It take away some of the bad taste."

  Verda had been like a loyal puppy since the very first day of Elise's arrival. Indeed, all his servants seemed to love her. The house servants were never far away when she was inside. Even Nell, who was usually coolly efficient, treated Elise with the same warmth she had always reserved only for Reed.

  "Verda, please ask Big John to come here," Reed said.

  Before Verda could do as he bid, Elise spoke in a soft voice from her chair.

  "Reed, could you carry me upstairs yourself? Please?"

  He stood silent for several seconds while he rearranged the wine decanters on the tray.

  "I don't think that would be wise, lit...Elise."

  Her expression didn't change. "Please, darlin'?"

  At her words and helpless look, Reed's heart felt like a shell that had cracked, and the contents of part pain, part melting heat oozed out in a slow trickle. It flowed through his veins and permeated every inch of his body.

  He stared at her for a moment, then moved with swiftness before rational thought could return. She was in his arms in seconds, and he was striding toward the staircase.

  Her arms went automatically around his neck, but he tried to ignore the sensation they caused. At the top of the stairs he turned left and almost charged to her bedroom. It wouldn't be wise to hold her much longer.

  He kicked her door open, and it bounced against the doorstop and slammed behind him. He laid her on the bed as quickly as possible without actually tossing her there. His resolve was crumbling like a house of cards, and he knew he had to get away. He'd come too close this afternoon. If not for Big John...well, he was an honorable man, and Elise was no trollop.

  "Darlin'?" Elise's eyes were all but closed. The black-fringed jade gazed up at him. "Could you help me with my dress? I'm so hot."

  Frissons of heat shot through his limbs to gather in a most disconcerting way. God, how he was tempted.

  "I'll call Verda."

  A long sigh stirred the air. "Very well. But could you at least take off my shoe and throw another cloth on my ankle until she gets here?"

  Hmmm, Reed conceded, no harm in that. But still, he was quick with the process and didn't focus on her ankles when they flashed before him.

  "I'll make sure Verda brings a fresh poultice when she comes. And I'll hurry her along." Not that he would need to, where Elise was concerned. "I hope you have a restful night."

  "I promise to sleep well if you kiss me good-night." He stopped in mid-turn. "Just this once." Her husky voice raked across his self-control.

  Don't do it. It wouldn't be wise. The best thing for both of us is to walk right out that door.

  Her lips were like feathers against his. He kept the light touch deliberate, almost brotherly. But there was nothing brotherly about what the kiss was doing to him.

  Her arms twined around his neck; she buried her fingers in his hair. Scorching shivers raced to every nerve when her tongue drew a searing, languorous line between his lips.

  An agonized moan tore from his throat. He fell across her and rolled her to her side, barely mindful of her ankle. The buttons on her gown gave beneath his racing hands, and soon the whole thing was nothing more than a heap on the floor.

  Her fingers fumbled, awkward with the few buttons his clothing presented. Impatient, he yanked the edges of his shirt apart. His buttons clattered off nearby surfaces.

  The last barriers of fabric flew through the air to flutter to the floor unheeded. Her hands moved over him with excruciating slowness, and shivers wracked his body with each new touch. He tried to slow his own reactions to match her languid mood.

  His hands had a life of their own. They slid across the satiny silhouette of her body. He had no control. His fingers somehow knew what to do, where to find her own special triggers.

  He draped his leg across hers, and she turned ever so slowly to meet him.

  "Reed?" She dragged out the word with her exhaled breath.

  "Yes, little one. I'm here."

  "Reed. My darlin' husband. I love you. I've loved you for a hundred and fifty years. But why..." her voice was slurred, "did you...give...me...that damned...laudanum?"

  And then she was asleep.

  Bloody hell! He'd knocked her out!

  Knocked her out, damn it, and obviously caused some type of drug-induced delirium. How else coul
d he explain her ramblings about one hundred and fifty years of love, and that he was her husband. He attributed the icy fingers that grasped the back of his neck to his...heightened physical state. He refused to attribute them to anything else.

  Bloody damned hell!

  He laid there for what seemed an eternity, his arrested body in a state of shock, his breathing ragged. The profusion of whispered curses that drifted through the air would have made a hooker blush.

  After he exhausted his vocabulary, he bounded from the bed and yanked on his trousers. He searched out his boots and balanced on one foot at a time while he rammed his feet into the soft leather. The rest of his clothes were gathered into a wad and flung into his rooms on his way to the stables.

  A bruising ride through the night and a bracing swim in the stream...maybe it would help. Or maybe he'd just find a nice, secluded spot and howl at the moon.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  Jeff was chasing her. She kept running but couldn't build any speed. Just enough to stay ahead of him. She hid behind stupid things like a glass door, or a lawn chair, and he didn't see her.

  But he always came back.

  She even flew - literally flew - without an airplane. Her body swam through the air, but not quite out of Jeff's reach.

  Help! She tried to scream the word, but all she did was hiss. Just a low, sibilant, moaning hiss that no one could hear but Jeff. It seemed to amuse him.

  He reached up in the air and grabbed her leg. She swam harder, but his pull was relentless. His hand curled into a fist, and he swung at her head. Help! Reed, help me! Her brain shrieked the words.

  "Reed! Reeeeed!"

  The scream finally came, and she shot up in bed. Her hair stuck to her cheeks, and she panted as if she'd really been running. Sweat trickled behind her ears and down her neck. She started to kick off the suffocating sheets but nothing covered her. The sudden movement pierced her ankle with pain, and she cried out against it.

  The door burst open and banged against the wall. She cringed and looked for an escape, forgetting her ankle. But it was Reed. Oh, thank God, it was Reed, framed in the doorway in a halo of light, like her guardian angel.

  He was at her side, and she was in his arms in a heartbeat. She clung to him with a death grip, and he rocked her there on the side of the bed.

  "There, there. It's all right. It's okay, little one. I'm here. I'm here."

  His low, whispery voice reassured her. She could feel the vibrating hum of his words against her ear. He pressed the crystal goblet of brandy that had been sitting on her night table against her lips. She took a few sips when he tilted it back.

  She shook with the memory of her nightmare, more vivid than any she'd ever had. He pulled her even closer and nuzzled her hair. His lips dropped what should have been calming kisses onto her tousled, sun-streaked mane. But the kisses were anything but calming.

  Elise twisted in his arms until she lay across his lap. She lay there, just studying his face. He studied hers.

  Vague memories of what had happened when he'd carried her to bed stirred in the recesses of her mind.

  The laudanum. Damn the laudanum.

  And damn his honor.

  She turned her head and snuggled against his chest. Her face met warm, almost hot skin. A few softly curling hairs tickled her nose. Heavy brocade silk interrupted her wandering lips, and she silently cursed the loose dressing gown he'd slung on.

  In no time, she had risen to her knees and shoved the robe from his shoulders. Her lips followed the same path they'd followed that afternoon. So did her hands. They traveled in different directions, until his raspy breath caught in his throat.

  "Make love to me, Reed." She spoke the words into his mouth.

  His groan rose from somewhere deep in his soul.

  "Make love to me, darlin'. For old time's sake."

  His groan intensified, and she had her answer.

  He pulled her across his lap, and the two fell backward into the darkest shadows. He played her like a finely tuned instrument; played her over and over throughout the night. In return, she sent him above those clouds he'd watched today. And this time they fell together into the white, fluffy mist, into a spinning, dizzying vortex of blessed oblivion. No interruptions. No laudanum.

  No turning back.

  *******

  "I don't care what I have to do. I'll send you to Europe. I'll raise the child myself. Whatever it takes, I'll do it to get out of this betrothal."

  The speech Reed had rehearsed was not at all like the one coming out of his mouth. He'd planned to be diplomatic, persuasive, but at Angeline's vehement refusal, he'd lost all thought of diplomacy.

  "You don't love me, Angeline. And I don't love you. You can find someone you care for and still have a wonderful life. No one will ever know the child I'm raising is yours."

  A sneer contorted Angeline's face, and Reed wondered what in the world he'd ever found attractive about the woman.

  "I have given you my answer, Reed," her voice was almost a hiss. "You had best get used to the idea of our marriage. I am surprised your little tramp will still have you, considering you raped me. Does she not fear you would do the same to her? Then again, one cannot rape the willing, can one?"

  He could feel the blood drain from his face, and Angeline stared with narrowed eyes. Her high-pitched laugh made an ugly rent in the air before she spoke.

  "She does not know. Does she? Oh, how wonderful!" She rubbed her hands with obvious glee. "Yes, Reed, you will marry me, or Elise and everyone in New Orleans will know the truth."

  If he didn't get out of here soon he might give in to the urge to choke the life from this woman. He grabbed his hat from the settee and headed for the front door. He refused to say another word.

  "Reed."

  He kept walking.

  "I want her gone from Oak Vista, Reed."

  His hand turned the doorknob.

  "I may be forced to tell her..."

  He spun around on her, cutting off her words with a chopping motion.

  "Breathe one word of this to Elise, and I will have no reason to marry you." He paused to let his words sink in. "Once you destroy my honor, you destroy any incentive I have to be honorable. You'd best remember that, woman."

  Every window in the house rattled when he slammed the door behind him.

  *******

  If she could only pace. Instead, her blasted ankle forced her to sit on the upper veranda while she waited for Reed's return. With her foot propped on an ottoman, she had to settle for some ferocious finger tapping instead, and that wasn't at all satisfying.

  Not nearly as satisfying as last night. Her pulse quickened with just the thought of all they'd shared. Their spirits had joined, as well as their bodies, and it wouldn't have been surprising to her to find a part of Reed left behind, deep down in her soul.

  Reed had told her when he rode away that he was determined to put a stop to Angeline's marriage plans. He'd vowed he would find a way for the two of them to marry, without Angeline's interference.

  Elise wasn't so optimistic. She'd come up against women of Angeline's ilk in the twentieth century more times than she cared to remember. The personality was a familiar one. She knew Angeline would rather see Reed destroyed than see him choose another woman over her.

  The wait wasn't long, which was not a good sign.

  She saw the cloud of dust rising in the air before she saw either horse or rider. Then with a thunder of hooves, a solitary horse burst onto the avenue of oaks and charged toward the house at breakneck speed. At first she thought it was riderless, but a closer look showed Reed bent low over the horse's neck, his body flowing with the straining muscles of his mount.

  It looked as if he would charge right up onto the veranda, but at the last minute he yanked on the reins and flung himself from the stallion's back.

  Elise placed her foot on the floor and hobbled to the railing, her heart in her throat.

  Reed looked up at her, but he didn't seem t
o see her at all. She waited for him to say something - anything - but he continued to stare, his eyes focused on something inside himself.

  The bubble of hope Elise had been harboring burst into a million pieces.

  *******

  Now, more than ever, when he looked at this woman his body came alive. This time though, the process was painful - almost too painful to bear.

  "Did you really expect her to let you out of it Reed? That self-centered little twit would rather see you in hell than let you out of her clutches."

  The only sound in the room was that of Elise pacing the floor with a limping gait. He stood slumped against the mantel. His arms ached to hold her. But there was a question in his mind that had nothing to do with Angeline, and he had to get it off his chest.

  "Elise," he shoved away from the mantel and poured himself a brandy, "there's something we need to talk about."

  Her pacing stopped, but he continued to study the amber liquid in the cut glass snifter. He wasn't sure he could look her in the eye but forced himself to turn and face her.

  She grimaced and shook her head. "Don't tell me there's more bad news."

  "I'm not sure." He set the glass down without ever taking a drink. "Elise, last night when we...were together, well, you weren't...that is to say..." he turned and looked heavenward, trying to decide exactly how one goes about this conversation with a lady.

  "Spit it out, Reed. I wasn't what?"

  He spun around and nailed her with his gaze.

  "I wasn't the first, Elise. That means you may already be married. What if you have a husband out there looking for you?" He tried but failed to keep the pain from his voice.

  Elise stared at him, her expression unchanged except for the pallor which swept the color from her cheeks. She blinked, and her gaze fell to the floor as she sank slowly onto the loveseat. She seemed to be searching for words. Reed took a seat across from her and waited for her to speak.

  She sighed and closed her eyes. When she opened them again she slid from the loveseat to kneel at his feet. Her hands were icy in his.