Love Lost in Time (Victorian Time-Travel) (4 page)

Turning sharply, she moved to catch up with the group, but a tall, muscular body stopped her. She looked up into the caring eyes of Drew Merrick. Instead of the angry expression he displayed a few minutes ago, a tender smile touched his mouth and a gleam lit his eyes.

“Miss Chapman, may I have a word in private, please?”

Halle glanced around the room, now empty. “It looks like we’re alone now.”

He shook his head. “No, not here. Would you mind going for a stroll outside with me?”

She hesitated. Still a stranger, she didn’t know if he’d try something or not. Yet, for some reason, she felt she could trust him. “Sure.”

He lifted his elbow then quickly dropped his arm by his side. For a moment, she thought he’d wanted her to take his arm like a proper lady would have done to a gentleman in the olden days.
Nah
! She was being foolish to think that way. Men didn’t act like that any longer. It must have been her daydreaming a little while ago that made her think like that.

Drew remained quiet until they strolled outside. The sun had set, and a bright moon lit the sky. The wind had died down,
and the temperature was still quite cool, so she slid her hands inside the pockets of her jacket.

Old-fashioned lanterns
scattered throughout the yard, giving it a romantic feel. She held back a chuckle.
Romantic?
How could she feel that way toward an older man? Although, remembering how strong his chest looked this afternoon made her think she’d been wrong about his age.

“It’s a lovely
evening, isn’t it?” She had to say something to break the silence.

He looked straight into her eyes. His gaze seemed to delve deep into her, clear to her soul.

He nodded. “Very lovely, indeed.”

Why did she think he was referring to her instead of the
night? Ridiculous! Just her crazy thoughts of romance getting carried away again.

“I thank you,” he began, “for saying what you did about Lord
Andrew back there.” He motioned his head toward the manor as they walked away from it.

“Really? Why?”

“Because I didn’t...um, I mean I don’t believe he was guilty, either.”

She shrugged. “I don’t know what it is or why I even became so defensive, but…” She took a deep breath. “It’s just a feeling I have. There are too many holes in the story.”

As she studied his expression, familiarity came back. Why did she think she had met him some place before? Immediately, a man’s portrait flew through her mind.
Lord Andrew.
It was as if a light bulb had been turned on in her head and she recalled his full name.
Drew Merrick.

“Oh, my gosh!” she blurt out before covering her mouth. Her gaze wandered over his face, his hair, and he looked almost identical to the portrait of Andrew Merrick
…well, except Lord Andrew appeared more healthy.

“What is amiss?” he asked.

She dropped her hand from her mouth. “Your last name is Merrick.”

“Yes.”

“The man who was accused of killing his family was Andrew Merrick.”

His lips stretched slowly into a smile. “Yes.”

“You might think this is funny, but you resemble the portrait hanging in that room. By chance, are you related?”

A heavy sigh came from Drew and he nodded. “I am.”

“Does Nigel know?”

Drew shook his head. “He does not, and I would appreciate it if he never learned that bit of information.”

His expression wavered, and curiosity got the better of her. Why did he look as if he knew something she didn’t? “How long have you been working here?”

“I’ve only been
here about a month now.”

Drew led
her to the large tree out front, the same tree where she’d seen him when arriving at Buckland Manor.

“So, Drew…was Nigel’s story correct? Did
Lord Andrew kill his family?”

He stopped short, swinging his head to look at her. “Andrew
Merrick did not murder his family nor did he have anything to do with it.”

“I wonder what really happened
.”

He shrugged. “The family was murdered, there’s no mistake about that, but the wrong person was accused.”

She folded her arms across her chest and cocked her head. “Who do you think did it?”

“That, Miss Chapman, I wish I knew.”

She scratched her chin. “From my research, there was always a distant uncle or cousin who coveted the title. This has happened for generations. Do you know much about the ancestors?”

The corner of his mouth lifted as a twinkle lit his eyes. “Indeed, I do.”

She gasped and clutched his arm, excitement shooting through her. “Really? Oh, I’d love to know more. I love history, and nothing intrigues me more than when it comes with a good mystery.”

He glanced at her hand resting on his arm before his gaze bounced up to meet hers again.
Crackling warmth spread quickly through her fingertips. Confused by the sensation, she withdrew.

Drew swallowed then laughed, sounding entirely too forced. “I enjoy your enthusiasm, Miss Chapman. I would be delighted to tell you everything I know.”

“Thank you. I look forward to it.”

From behind her, closer to the house, her friend called her name. She swung toward Samantha’s voice. Beside her walked Colin.

“There you are.” Colin pierced Drew with a glare before switching his attention to Halle. “We wondered where you’d wandered off to.”

Halle flipped her hand in the air. “Oh, we were just discussing the history of the manor.”

Colin eyed the older man carefully before glancing at his watch. “We had plans tonight to drive into town, and if we don’t leave soon, we’ll miss our theatre time.”

“Forgive me for interrupting your plans, Miss Chapman,” Drew said with a smile. “We can meet tomorrow
, and I shall tell you everything I know.”

She nodded. “Sounds good to me. Thanks. I hope you have a pleasant evening.”

“And you, as well.” He bowed slightly.

Halle stepped between Samantha and Colin as they walked back to the house. Colin leaned closer. “What was that all about?”

She arched her eyebrow when she looked at him. “Are you kidding me? Colin, I’m not sure I like the tone of your voice.”

“Good grief, Hal, the man is old enough to be your father.”

She rolled her eyes. “He certainly is not! If you would have seen what Samantha and I did yesterday, you’d know. I wish you’d quit pretending you’re my big brother, because you’re not. As my friend, I would think you’d let me form my own opinion about people. Drew is a kind man who has a head full of knowledge about this place, and he’s going to share that with me. At this point,
that
is the only thing thrilling me right now. You know how much I love to learn about history.”

“I don’t know, Hal,” Samantha grumbled. “Drew might be nice, but he looks at you as if he wants to devour you.”

“Sam, I can’t believe you’re taking Colin’s side.”

Samantha laughed. “Me, either, but I have to admit, since that time at the pond when we saw him without his shirt, he’s been watching you differently. He doesn’t look at the other guests like that.”

Halle huffed. “And you’re telling me you’ve kept your eyes on him the whole time to know this?”

Colin stopped
and put his hand on Halle’s shoulder. Worry etched his gaze. “Hal, we just want you to be careful. That’s all.”

“I will be. Thanks for worrying about me, but really, I’m all right.”

Strange thing was she had also noticed the way Drew looked at her… Were her friends right to worry? Why was she so willing to be this man’s friend when he made her feel…uncomfortable?

Yet,
uncomfortable
wasn’t the word, really. They talked so easily, so maybe it disturbed her to know she befriended him so fast.

Either way, her curiosity overrode
everything. She would find out what Drew knew about the history of this manor one way or another.

Chapter Three

Andrew rushed through his work the following morning, and then paid the cook to prepare a picnic basket for two. Today’s weather wa
s perfect for it. No brisk wind and no clouds hiding the sun. If he didn’t know it was December, he would think it October, instead.

Thankfully the servants— He stopped his thoughts and shook his head. They weren’t called servants any longer. He needed to remember that. His
co-workers
were very friendly and treated him like family; the cook would make a fabulous meal.

Exhaustion tried to ruin Andrew’s day as he hurried to make everything perfect.
Very gradually, his health seemed to decline the longer he was in this new world. Perhaps they had more chemicals that were slowly killing his body. He wished he knew.

Near the pond where Miss Chapman and her friend had watched him bathe would make a perfect place for the picnic. He wanted privacy for one reason only. Deep in his heart, he felt she was the one he could confess his true identity to…and tell her about traveling through time. Since he
’d seen her when she arrived at Buckland Manor, there was something about her that lured him; made him want to get to know her and tell her his secret. And she was the only one who saw the resemblance between him and his portrait.

He prayed Halle believed him. He wanted someone to know he wasn’t a killer before
this strange sickness took his life, which at this point, wouldn’t be much longer.

Although he’d been attending the tours since he arrived in this century,
it still upset him when they talked about his dying family, and how his brother clung to life for another day before perishing. And poor Georgiana! It also upset him to know that between Georgiana and Agnes, they couldn’t hold the estate and lost it three years later. Andrew wondered who inherited to become the next Duke of Harrington. The title could have gone to any of his distant cousins, yet, why hadn’t they taken care of the estate? If, by chance, Agnes was pregnant with Edward’s child—and knowing Edward, that wouldn’t surprise Andrew one bit—their child, if a boy, would have inherited, but there was no mention about the estate staying in the family.

Miss Chapman’s
interest in his family’s history amazed him. It pleased him to know she didn’t feel he had killed his family, either. The passion she’d felt on this subject both surprised and delighted him. At first he questioned why she would be so adamant about finding answers, but then he concluded it didn’t matter. Miss Chapman was what he’d searched for since arriving in this mixed up world.

After leaving the kitchen, he rushed to his room in the servant’s quarters to check his appearance in the mirror. Frowning, he realized he
’d lost more hair—in just one day! The clothes these people wore nowadays certainly didn’t flatter his body, and since underneath his clothing didn’t look that old—yet—he wished there was a way to make Miss Chapman believe his time-travel story.

And why was his skin so gray, and getting grayer as time went by?

Knowing he couldn’t do anything to improve his appearance, he left and wandered through the halls and rooms, searching for Miss Chapman. It surprised him how many rooms the new owners had kept closed from curious eyes. He could get inside though, and during his first week here, he entered these off-limit rooms. Mostly they held antique furniture and clothes from his time and later. The owners probably kept the guests out so nothing would get stolen.

He found Miss Chapman curled on a couch in the library. He stopped just inside the door, not daring to disturb her. So engrossed in her book, she didn’t notice him, which was good. He enjoyed gazing upon her loveliness. Her beauty had captured his attention that first day, but the more he talked with her and got to know her personality, the more charming she’d become.

As she read, her fingers twirled a lock of light-brown hair, looking more like the color of honey since she sat near a window and the sunshine literally brightened her strands. Every so often she nibbled on her bottom lip. What kind of book did she read to become that enthralled?

Cautiously, he stepped closer, keeping his eyes on her. Still, she had yet to look up. Within feet of reaching her side, he recognized the book.
Pride and Prejudice.
He grinned. If he remembered correctly, his mother had a book like this she read constantly. Could it possibly be the same book?

He moved to the side of the couch and studied Miss Chapman. Her creamy skin appeared so soft and his fingers itched to stroke her cheek just to find out. But he wouldn’t.
Most certainly, he’d frighten her with his forwardness.

Breathing in deeply, he inhaled her intoxicating scent. Roses...almost as breathtaking as his mother’s summer flower garden. Homesickness hit him hard. Shaking his head, he tried to ignore the emptiness crushing his chest.

He linked his fingers behind him and stepped closer. “Interesting reading, I presume, since you haven’t noticed my presence yet.”

She jumped and the book dropped to her lap. Her
gaze bounced up to him as her eyes widened. A blush spread through her face and down her neck.

“Oh, I...I didn’t see you there.”

He chuckled. “Precisely, my point.” He glanced at the book. “Are you enjoying
Pride and Prejudice
?”

She gasped. “Have you read this one before?”

“No, I’ve only heard about it.”

“Oh, well...yes, I do enjoy Jane Austen’s
stories. All of them. This one is my favorite.”

“A woman wrote it?”

“Yes. She tells the most wonderful stories.”

“Then y
ou shall have to tell me about it one day.”

She smiled.

“I’m off work now. If you have a little time to spare, I would love to finish our conversation from last evening.”

She straightened, closed the book and stood. “I
do have time to finish our talk.” Standing, she grabbed her jacket off the edge of the couch and shrugged into it.

The urge to offer her his arm became strong, but he knew people in her century didn’t have a clue
as to why men were supposed to do this. He pressed his arm against him as he walked side-by-side with her outside. “I thought we could go down by the pond.” He pointed in that direction. “Also, if you have not eaten, I had Cook prepare something. I know I’m famished.”

She
tilted her head and looked at him, almost as if she wondered about him. He knew she did. She’d always looked at him in a curious manner.

Chuckling, she shook her head. “I swear, if I didn’t know better, I would think you walked out of the pages of this book I’m reading. In fact, I half expected you to offer your arm to me.”

He threw back his head and laughed. “Believe it or not, Miss Chapman, that is a compliment coming from you.” He stopped and held out his elbow. “Shall we continue then?”

She hooked her arm around his. “Indeed we shall.” Her eyes sparkled; a glimmer that had nothing to do with the way the sun shone on her.

With her on his arm, he walked a little taller, a little prouder, and felt more like the young and vibrant Andrew. “So, Miss Chapman, does this mean you agree to take the afternoon meal with me?”

“Yes, of course
.” She chuckled again. “And, if you don’t mind, I would like for you to call me Halle instead of Miss Chapman.”

He nodded. “Splendid. You may call me Andrew, or Drew if you prefer.”

“I do like the name Andrew. It’s an older, Biblical name. One of Jesus’ disciples was given that name. Andrew is a Greek and Hebrew name, if I recall. It became very popular during the middle ages. The name has been used by kings and rulers as well.”

His smile grew. Pretty soon his face would hurt from the strain, he was certain. But he didn’t care. The more she talked, the more a grin stretched his lips. His heart lightened and he knew he could easily fall in love with her. If only...

It wouldn’t happen. Within a month his body would completely fall apart unless the strange sickness he had took his life first. Nonetheless, he enjoyed the angelic lift to her voice, the soft way she caressed each word, and especially the way her lips moved when she spoke. He could do nothing all day but listen to her—and watch.

“You are very educated. Tell me, Halle,
what do you know about the name Merrick?”

She wagged her eyebrows, which he thought was adorable.

“Merrick comes from an English surname, originally derived from a Norman given name.
Meri
means fame, and
ric
means power.”

He laughed. “So I’m supposed to be a renowned, powerful man?”

This time she stopped completely, her eyes wide as she dropped her touch from his arm. “You know, I believe so. And if I’m not mistaken, you are very close to that already.”

Chuckling, he shook her head. “You are very humorous.”

“What? You don’t believe me?” She laughed.

“Precisely.” He held out his elbow again. “Shall we proceed?”

“But of course.” She hooked her hand back around his elbow and walked beside him.

They reached the pond quickly. She glanced from the blanket to the picnic basket. “You’ve thought of everything, haven’t you?”

He shrugged. “I tried to.” He motioned to the blanket. “After you, my lady.”

Her cheeks flamed with color. “
Lady
? How gentlemanly of you to notice.”

She sat and he joined her on the blanket. “Of course I noticed.” He winked. “How could I not when you are a walking form of historical knowledge?”

“Well, if you remember correctly, women back in time weren’t supposed to have much knowledge. So instead of referring to me as
my lady,
I would have been more like
that irritating bluestocking.
”

Laughter erupted from him again as he opened the picnic basket. “I’m quite certain a few men back in those days appreciated women who could carry on a decent conversation instead of giggling like brainless henwits.”

She snorted a laugh. “Oh, that’s too funny, Andrew.” She elbowed his ribs. “I can’t get over how much you sound and act like a man from the past. Do all men who live in England have that trait?”

Now would be the perfect time to bring up the subject…the matter of his true identity. He prayed he wouldn’t sound like a man insane. “I don’t know, my dear. Have
you noticed the mannerism of other men since your arrival in England?”

As she nibbled on her sandwich, she stared at him through narrowed eyes. Silence lasted only long enough for her to finish what was in her mouth.

“Actually, no. Take for instance, Nigel. Even though he speaks with an accent, he doesn’t sound anything like you…and his manners are not as refined. It’s like you were raised in a grand palace while he was raised…with the pigs.”

“Between you and me, Nigel
has me confused as well. Sometimes he will say something that catches me unaware, and I wonder if he’s lying just to make himself look better.”

Her eyes widened. “Really? All I know is I don’t like how he turns up his nose at me.”

“Indeed, he’s trying to act more sophisticated, but it’s not working. There’s just something contrived about him. You are the only person I have met who’s noticed.”

She shrugged as she opened her bottle of water. “Hmm…very interesting. So what do you think that means?”

It was hard not to take his eyes off her mouth as she drank, but he must in order to concentrate on his goal this afternoon. “I think that means I would fit well with the men in the Victorian era, but Nigel is a different story, entirely. Do you not agree?”

“Victorian?” She gasped and lowered the bottle. “That’s my favorite era. Why did you pick that one?”

He shrugged. “I think that is my favorite, as well.”

As her gaze ran over him, excitement strummed through his body. He missed the companionship of a woman. Unfortunately, when she looked at him, he knew she didn’t feel the same. The color of her eyes didn’t darken with desire, and the expression on her face hadn’t changed.
Apparently, she wasn’t attracted to unhealthy men.

“I’m trying to picture you in
a lawn shirt, cravat, frock coat and matching trousers.” She nodded. “Yeah, I guess you’d fit.”

He laughed. “It just so happens, I do have clothes like that.”

Her eyes widened. “Really? Are you going to wear them on Friday night for the costume party?”

“Indeed, I am. Are you dressing up as well?”

“You bet your cravat I am.” She winked. “I adore the gowns from that era.”

“Yesterday you asked me about a store. Did you ever locate one?”

She nodded. “We were told about one but we haven’t gone there yet.”

He boldly inspected her attire, which was hard not to do when her clothes practically clung to her. In one of those
off limits
rooms in the manor, he’d seen a beautiful gown, made for a duchess. He hoped it would fit Halle, and that she’d wear it. Of course, he’d have to sneak back in there and borrow it. “I may just have a gown your size.”