Love Lost in Time (Victorian Time-Travel) (7 page)

He rushed toward h
er, trying not to appear like an over-eager young lad. When Halle saw him, a wide smile stretched across her face, making her green eyes twinkle.

Andrew stopped in front of her, glancing from her friends, back to her. “It appears you were in town shopping.”

“Yes, we were.” Halle beamed. “Colin and Sam now have costumes for the ball tomorrow night.” She leaned in closer and whispered, “But my gown is prettier, I think.”

He chuckled. “Of course it is.” He held out his hand. “Let me assist you with those bags.” He took two from her and three from Samantha. “I trust you all had a lovely time?”

“Oh, yes!” Samantha said. “I’m having so much fun in England. Wish I could live here always.”

“Not me,” grumbled Colin. “The women are not very nice at all.” He stormed into the manor ahead of the others.

Halle tried to hide a smile as she walked beside Andrew. “He flirted with a few women in town,” she explained, “but they refused his advances.”

“How old is he?” Andrew whispered.

“He’s a year younger than I am.”

“I fear he’s not mature enough.” Andrew shrugged. “Give him a few years, and then the women will be flocking to him.”

Halle laughed. “Don’t tell him that. It will give him an oversized ego.”

He walked with Halle and her friend to their rooms. Andrew handed Samantha her bag
s once she entered her room, then he turned back to assist Halle. Once they entered her room, he set her bag on the bed.

“I have been waiting for you all afternoon,” he finally said.

Her gaze jumped to his. “Why? Did you find out something?”

“Well, if Bill Stratford is indeed your father, he ha
s a room here at Buckland Manor. Some of us actually rent rooms in the basement and live here, while the other staff lives nearby.”

“So Bill Stratford didn’t have a family or anyone to go home to each night?”

“No. From what I can tell, his family was his co-workers at the manor.” He stepped closer to her. “But since he’s been gone, nobody has taken over his room. Apparently, Miss Fridal convinced the manager of Buckland Manor not to rent it to anyone. Miss Fridal thinks Bill Stratford will return.” Andrew slid his hand into his pocket and withdrew a key. “Do you want to take a look inside his room?”

“Of course, I do!” She grasped his hand without actually taking the key.

“I shall take you there, but I cannot stay and search his room with you. I fear I must return to my duties before the staff start thinking I’m not doing my work properly.”

“I totally understand.” Her smile made her green eyes sparkle.

As they left her room, she hooked her arm through his. He couldn’t stop the grin sneaking across his face. She acted like it was normal to touch him in such a way. His heart hammered in excitement. “Halle, there’s something else I must tell you, whether or not it links to your father, it’s what the other servants mentioned.”

She met his stare and cocked her head. “What is it?”

They stepped into the elevator, and he pressed the button to the bottom floor. The doors closed and the uncomfortable contraption started to move. Andrew’s stomach jumped and dizziness tried to invade his head. He’d never get used to this blasted machine!

“The day Bill Stratford disappeared,” he continued, hoping that if he talked, these uneasy sensations would leave, “the security guards found an item missing in the museum. Apparently, there was a glass case that held my father—the
Duke of Harrington’s journals. The case was broken and the journals were missing.” He shrugged. “Nobody actually knows if Bill Stratford took these, but they found it coincidental that it happened the same day.”

Halle frowned. “That is very odd, but it’s too coincidental to ignore. If Bill is my father, and he worked here a year, he had plenty of opportunity to take those journals—or anything of value at Buckland Manor.”

Andrew nodded. “Those were my sentiments exactly.”

“Do you know if
the duke’s journals were important—or what they had inside them?”

The elevator dinged and the doors opened. Andrew hurried out of the large box-style contraption and out in the hall, taking deep breaths.
As Halle stopped beside him, he turned to face her. Glancing up and down the hallway, he made sure they were alone before continuing. “I don’t know what they contained, however,” he lowered his voice, “if they had anything in them about where the ancient jewels were hidden, that would make these journals priceless.”

She nodded. “You make a good point there. On the other hand, if my father had stolen these journals, that would make him a thief—just like most of his ancestors had
been.”

He stroked her cheek, not liking to see her frown. “But we are jumping to conclusions, sweet Halle. He probably didn’t take the journals at all.
”

Immediately, he lost his breath, and in recovering it, he started to cough. Unable to get it under control right away, he withdrew a handkerchief and covered his mouth. Finally, the coughing subsided and he pulled the handkerchief away. Spots of blood were visible against the whiteness of the cloth.

Halle gasped and clutched his arm. “Andrew, what’s wrong with? You…coughed up blood.”

“Yes, I know,” he answered, feeling drained once again. “This has happened a few times lately. I shall be fine, I assure you.”

“Have you seen a doctor?” she asked.

“Not yet.”

“Well, if you don’t I’m going to physically take you to the hospital.”

He smiled. “Then I promise to see one soon.” He handed her the room key. “Now s
earch his room and see what you can find. If you need me, I shall be outside by my tree.”

“Thank you. I truly appreciate your help.”

It made his heart light to see her smile and how her eyes twinkled. If only…

He shook the thought out of his head as he walked away from her. He couldn’t think of
if only
any longer or it would certainly depress him—worse than knowing he’d never get back to his own time and save his family…and worse than knowing he was dying, quicker than he’d first thought.

Chapter Six

Halle turned the key and opened the door.

Poor Andrew.
Why was he so sick? She wished she could help him, but didn’t think she could.

As she stepped into the small room, she noticed t
here was only one window, so she flipped the switch on the wall to bring more light. The overhead bulb glowed brightly as she stepped inside and closed the door behind her. Her hands trembled slightly, so she clasped them together and held them against her belly. Was Bill Stratford really her father, or was she snooping through a stranger’s room? And worse…after he’d been gone almost a month, would he suddenly return and walk in on her?

She prayed not.

The man—this stranger—didn’t have pictures of family on his walls or shelves to let her know if this was really Will Chapman. A few books lay on his bed stand. Glancing at the title and book cover, she shivered. The book appeared to be a science fiction, horror type of story. Apparently, he wasn’t into history like Halle.

Releasing a pent-up sigh, she walked to his dresser and pulled out the top drawer. She might as well begin somewhere, and here was a good place to start. But she didn’t want to touch any of his clothes. So she found a pencil and moved them around that way.

After searching through all four drawers and finding only clothes, she moved to the small closet. Two pair of shoes were on the floor—a pair of white athletic shoes, and a dressier pair of loafers. Not many clothes hung in the closet, either. Back in the corner on the floor was a large suitcase.

Confusion filled her, so she pulled it out and lifted the top. If he knew he was leaving, why didn’t he take anything? Very strange behavior, indeed! To her great disappointment, nothing was in the suitcase so she scooted it back where she’d found it. While she was kneeling on the floor, she turned and glanced under his bed. Nothing.

Frustrated, she stood and planted her hands on her hips. There wasn’t a lot of space for her to look. For someone who had lived here a year, why didn’t he have more personal belongings?

Grumbling, she sat on the edge of his bed, tapping her foot in irritation. Obviously, searching through this man’s room accomplished nothing.

As she moved to stand, something beneath her shifted. She sprang to her feet as her heart jumped to her throat. What on earth…

Cautiously, she placed her hand on the mattress to feel the odd lumps where she’d just been sitting. Something wasn’t right at all.

She lifted the covers, but still didn’t see anything, so she lifted the mattress. Once again, nothing. Yet, there
was
something there that she’d been sitting on.

Kneeling to the side of the mattress, she studied it closer as she continued to lift it. Down, almost to the middle of the mattress, she noticed a big rip. She pulled the mattress off the frame and awkwardly flipped it over. Thank goodness this wasn’t anything like her bed back home. There was no way she could have done this by herself. It surprised her to think the manager at Buckland Manor didn’t give his staff better bedding than this.

Halle worked her hand in the rip and followed the path toward the bulky objects that were definitely not supposed to be in a mattress. Although she didn’t want to discover her father was a thief, she did want to discover something about him.

Then again, she really didn’t know for sure if Bill Stratford was her father or not.

When her fingers bumped against the square, leather object, she grasped it and pulled it out, her heart dropping the closer it came. By the time she withdrew the object, she knew what it was.

Frowning, she stared at the worn black leather book cover. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to know this was a very historic item. Carefully, she opened to the front page. Scrolled in fine penmanship was written
George Merrick, Duke of Harrington, 1847.

Eighteen forty-seven? That was a year before a mob attacked Andrew’s family. Dare she take this back to her room to read? Would she find the location of the Merrick ancient family jewels?

Halle patted the mattress to see if there was anything else hidden in there, but she didn’t detect anymore. She even checked his pillow, but came up with nothing.

In a rush, she put the bed back together, then hurried and left the room, holding the worn leather journal against her breast. After entering the elevator, thoughts filled her head. If Bill had found the jewels, perhaps that’s why he left all of his belongings behind—because he didn’t need them any longer. But what if he hadn’t found the jewels? What could be his rea
sons for leaving everything?

An ache pounded in her forehead, and she knew if she thought about this too much, she’d get a migraine. Perhaps the best thing to do would be to read the journal. Hopefully, that would give her some clue to where her father—or Bill—had gone next.

* * * *

Andrew stepped from the shower the next morning and scrubbed a towel over his hair. As he passed the mirror, he came to a halt and stared at his reflection.
What the blazes!
He’d lost more of his hair, and the color of his skin was grayer than before. This could not be good at all. Strange how one day would make such a difference. Indeed, death was nearly at his doorstep.

Not able to look at himself any longer, he tore away from the mirror and proceeded to dress. His movements seemed slower than before, and more painful.
His chest hurt to breathe. Cursing this unknown sickness, he was determined to stay alive so he could find a way to return home again. Deep in his heart, he knew the large tree out front was the key to his passage. After all, that’s how he arrived in this century. He wondered if when he finally returned to his time, he’d be able to save his family. Or would it be too late?

After he dressed and left the house, he looked for Halle, but couldn’t find her. Panic consumed him. He hadn’t talked to her since he showed her to her father’s room. Last night Andrew had tried to find her and couldn’t. Her friends weren’t anywhere in sight, either. He’d wondered if they had checked out, but after asking the night clerk at the front desk, she assured him Halle and her friends were still here.

He’d been dismal after that. She and her friends probably had plenty to do, and he shouldn’t think that Halle would live her holiday around him.

The only thing that had gotten him through his lonely night was remembering spending time in her room, and the kiss they shared. His heart quickened just as it had done last night. He placed a hand to his chest, knowing a fast heartbeat was not wise at a time like this, especially when he
was so ill. Yet she had believed him about traveling through time—something he never thought she’d do.

And that kiss…

He’d kissed many women, but Halle’s kiss meant more to him than anything he’d experienced before.

Andrew collected his gardening tools and situated himself by the large oak tree in his normal place, tending the weeds and replanting
shrubs in the surrounding area. He’d been sitting at this exact spot since the day after he’d come through the tree from 1848. He’d pretty much given up on his search for the treasure. But nonetheless, he worked diligently by the tree hoping to find a way home.

The weather had turned colder today and an icy breeze rushed around him. He glanced to the sky. Dark clouds slowly moved in. He was certain it would snow soon.

Taking the hand shovel, he moved to another spot to dig. He’d probably covered every inch of the ground around this tree, but he’d keep trying. Several hours later, the wind had picked up. He had to shrug on his coat and gloves before continuing, but he still felt as if he was going nowhere with his search. Breathing a defeated sigh, he relaxed his stiff and achy shoulders and peered up into the branches. The light from the heavens poured around the limbs in a surreal array. Indeed, God had a hand in creating such beauty.

A
robin perched on a limb, singing its morning song of gladness. It surprised him that the bird was still cheerful even through the blistery, cold wind.

Never had Andrew taken the time to stop and listen closely to the sounds around him. He’d always been too busy with life—too busy wooing women and making money
through business investments. Now he wished he’d taken the time to enjoy more of God’s creations…and not the lovely and charming two-legged kind who wore beautiful gowns.

The bird stopped singing and flapped its wings to fly away. Andrew watched the flight for a mere second, but as he shifted his gaze back to the limb, he realized the branch was shaped oddly. It almost resembled a hand and a finger pointing downward.

On closer inspection, he studied the way the finger-looking branch curved into a fist and knuckles. Engraved on the branch was some kind of picture.

He stood, his knees creaking worse then they’d done before. He stretched the kinks out of his back and neck then shaded his eyes as he studied the century’s old drawing.
Thank goodness his vision was still working even if his body wasn’t.

The drawing appeared to be a sunset. His heart hammered with renewed hope. If his speculation was correct, the gnarly finger may indeed show him the way back home at sunset.

The remainder of the day passed quickly, and sadly, he didn’t get to see Halle. Even her friends were conspicuously absent. Deep down he knew she wouldn’t leave without telling him farewell. And since tonight was the costume dinner party that Halle had been looking forward to, he knew she was still here. Yet he wondered why she hadn’t come to see him. The very least she could have done was told him if she found anything of importance in Bill Stratford’s room.

After showering, Andrew proceeded to dress for the evening’s events. He fastened his cravat around his neck while staring at his reflection in the mirror. He was attired just
as he was the day he left his home…except he looked older. Sicker.

When he thought about returning home, excitement beat in his heart—as did hope. He didn’t know what God had in store for him, but dying in
this
century was not an option. Andrew wanted to return home and die with his family…as long as people in the future didn’t think he was a murderer.

He glanced out the window. Sunset was nearly upon them. He prayed the tree branch would show him the way back to 1848, but because he’d been hoping to return home for a while now, he didn’t dare believe. Not yet.

Shaking his head, he moved away from the bathroom sink and hurried out of his room and down the stairs. Guests from the hotel nodded greetings to him, and he returned the gesture. His gaze swept each person and inside every room as he passed by. As much as he wanted to see Halle, he was thankful he didn’t. It was too soon to explain to her about returning home. Deep down inside, he knew she’d understand. If he didn’t think he’d keel over at any minute, he wouldn’t mind staying to get to know Halle Chapman. He hadn’t talked so intimately with many women in this century, but he couldn’t imagine any other woman being as special.

The tree was in sight, and he hurried his step. By the time he reached the tall oak, he was out of breath
and started coughing. He withdrew his handkerchief again, and just like yesterday, he’d coughed up blood. More this time.

B
ending over, he placed his hand on the tree to keep him steady as he took several deep breaths, trying to calm his heartbeat. It seemed the dysfunctional organ had thought he was in a race by the way it pounded against his ribs. Within seconds, pain shot through his chest, making it harder to breathe. He sank to his knees and rubbed the burning sensation spreading fast through his chest—then down his arms.

All
around him a dark cloud formed and everything became fuzzy. Confusion grew thick in his head, making him disoriented. Exhausted limbs shook as the pain deepened. He clutched his chest, squeezing his eyes closed.

God help me! I’m dying!

* * * *

Groggily, Halle opened her weary eyes. The room was darker than she thought it should be for early afternoon. She’d read Andrew’s father’s journal all night and didn’t fall asleep until morning. There was so much she wanted to tell
Andrew, unfortunately, the journal didn’t tell her where the jewels had been hidden.

But she knew more about the
duke’s wife and their daughter, and about Edward. Apparently, the Duke of Harrington confided in Edward more than he did his younger son. She figured it was because Edward would soon take over the title in the event the duke died. At least she learned more about the family and some of their special times together.

She rolled her head on the pillow, a
nd through squinted eyes, glanced at the alarm clock on the night stand.
Four thirty…

“
Four thirty?” she shouted as she jumped out of bed and grabbed her cell to double-check the time. “Oh, good grief! It
is
four thirty!”

And tonight’s entertainment started at
five thirty.

Why in the world did the day get so dark this early in the day?

She rushed to the bathroom, and hopped in the shower, not caring that it wasn’t the right temperature. Never in her life had she taken such a quick shower, but five minutes later, she was out and drying herself as she blow dried her long hair. This was also the first time in her life she wished for short hair, because it would be dry by now.