Time After Time (17 page)

She saw Jane Smith by the one of the tables. Holding a dish in her hand, Jane had paused to watch the exchange, and smiled, nodding approvingly at Penelope. Penelope looked away, remembering Jane’s and Eliza’s words, and stepped closer to Heath.

Heath, however, had taken offence at Mrs Priscopp’s insinuation and replied heatedly, ‘Indeed? Well, Mrs Priscopp, I can assure you that it is Penelope’s modest and respectable behaviour that has endeared her to me. And as for being beautiful,’ he lowered his gaze to Penelope’s, ‘I have
never
come across anyone more beautiful than her.’

‘My dear Mr Lockwood,’ began Mrs Priscopp, ‘I’m afraid Penelope misunderstood me entirely. I merely suggested that the swiftness of your relationship, and the fact that you already reside with Miss Georgina, who is a renowned beauty—as is
my Anne
—only made your attachment all the more baffling. For those who would gossip, of course.’

Penelope glared at the woman. Her nails cut into the palms of her fisted hands. As if sensing her distress, Heath slipped his hand into hers, unknotting her fingers and threading them between his. Ever so slightly, he squeezed them reassuringly, drawing her close against his side.

Penelope could feel Jane Smith still watching them, but she didn’t dare look in Jane’s direction, sensing the girl had something to say. And not entirely sure she wanted to hear it.

‘Penelope?’ Georgina approached, her eyes flicking between the members of the small party. ‘Mrs Priscopp, Anne. How nice to see you both. Is everything all right?’

Penelope nodded stiffly but didn’t trust herself to speak. What was wrong with her? She rarely felt angry, and was never annoyed or bad-tempered; it simply wasn’t in her nature. Glancing at Heath, she hoped and prayed that he wasn’t disappointed in her, that he hadn’t glimpsed her bizarre and unusual rage that broiled beneath the surface.

As Georgina chatted cordially with the two women, playing the perfect hostess, Penelope stared into the distance.

Jane approached, carrying a few dishes in her arms. As she brushed past Penelope, she leaned in close and whispered quickly, ‘Come see me later.’

Penelope blinked after her, watching as she moved away to set out food and clear dishes. Glancing at Heath, she smiled, struggling desperately to suppress the sense of foreboding swelling inside her.

Penelope sat propped against Heath as they listened to Harry entertain them with amusing stories from university. Harry never let the truth get in the way of a good tale. Exaggeration was expected and encouraged—the fish were always bigger, the hunt longer, the party louder and more raucous.

Penelope giggled and beside her Heath laughed too. Her previous cross mood had vanished and she felt like herself once more, although she had carefully avoided any further encounters with Mrs Priscopp and Anne.

They however, hadn’t taken any notice of Penelope’s heated outburst, nor had they seemed to heed the engagement between Penelope and Heath, Anne posturing before him at every turn. Penelope managed to keep her anger in check by the simple fact that Heath paid Anne no attention at all, his eyes entirely for herself. Eyes that she felt she could stare into for a hundred years or more, drowning in their chocolaty warmth.

Suddenly, a chill rustled the hairs on her arms and she turned, her eyes immediately falling on the stranger.

He was striding towards them with a sense of purpose, dressed in tight fawn-coloured breeches and a crisp white shirt. In his hand he carried a riding whip, which he whisked through the air.

Penelope was so stunned to see him that for a moment all she could do was stare wildly at him.

Georgina, noticing Penelope’s change in demeanour, turned in the direction of Penelope’s gaze. Heath did likewise, and he immediately sprang to his feet.

‘Sebastian!’

To Penelope’s surprise, Heath raced across the lawn to greet the stranger. The rider on the hill. The man at the edge of the forest. The man who had been watching her for weeks.

The two men shook hands and hugged, grinning delightedly at one another.

‘He must be Heath’s brother,’ Georgina whispered in Penelope’s ear. ‘We weren’t expecting him for another few days.’

Penelope opened her mouth to reply, to say something, but all she managed was a staggered exhalation of breath. Her eyes were dry, and she blinked, dragging her gaze away from the man who was now walking towards her, Heath by his side.

Climbing to her feet, she smoothed down her dress, ignoring the way her hands trembled as her eyes met his brilliant silver grey ones. She gasped. His eyes were so unnatural, so luminescent, that she was momentarily caught off guard. They were like shards of ice embedded in a perfectly handsome face, the tear-shaped pupils just as she remembered.

‘Penelope, allow me to introduce my brother, Sebastian Lockwood,’ Heath said, grinning happily. ‘Sebastian, this is Penelope Broadhurst. My betrothed.’

‘So this is the beautiful young woman who has trapped my little brother into matrimony?’ said Sebastian, his voice light like a gentle caress.

‘That is exactly what I keep saying,’ muttered Harry. ‘It is a dreadful state of affairs that he should marry.’

‘Harry!’ warned Georgina.

‘Oh, excuse me,’ Heath said. ‘Sebastian, please meet Georgina and Harry Broadhurst.’

Sebastian pulled his gaze from Penelope—who immediately relaxed like she’d been released from a powerful hold—to greet Georgina and Harry.

Penelope’s mind was in a whirl. Heath’s brother was the stranger? He was the man she’d seen on the horse, observed lurking outside her attic window? It didn’t make sense. That was weeks ago, and he’d only
just
arrived.

‘And this is Mrs Priscopp and her niece, Anne,’ Georgina was saying now, sounding a million miles away.

‘Sebastian and I are old friends, aren’t we?’ Anne said slyly.

‘It is very nice to see you again, Miss Priscopp,’ said Sebastian formally.

‘Oh, come now, we know each other better than that,’ Anne said. ‘You must call me Anne.’

‘Very well, Anne,’ Sebastian replied before glancing at Penelope, who quickly looked away.

‘Their family has certainly been blessed with very fine looks.’ It was Ellen who spoke now, watching both Sebastian and Heath.

‘Yes,’ Penelope murmured, her cheeks flaming.

‘I’m not sure who is more handsome. Whom do you think, Penelope? Of course, you must say Heath, but I believe Sebastian has the most amazing eyes,’ Ellen continued, ‘Have you ever seen eyes that colour before? And with a pupil shaped like that?’

‘Yes.’ Of course she had, just a few weeks ago atop a massive horse, then outside her attic window, then only a few days ago…

‘Really? Where?’

Penelope came to and realised she’d spoken without thinking. ‘Oh, sorry. I wasn’t listening properly, Ellen. Forgive me.’

‘Too caught up with thoughts of Heath,’ she said, amused, and not the slightest bit offended. ‘I think I shall go and introduce myself to his brother. Maybe we can be sisters.’

Penelope watched as Ellen walked over to where a small group had gathered around Heath and Sebastian. As she did, her attention was caught by Jane Smith, who stared pointedly at her. Jane nodded, her eyes serious, and Penelope remembered her earlier request to talk.

But she would not be speaking to Jane Smith or her mother. No matter what they had to tell her. She didn’t want to hear it. Still, Penelope couldn’t help remembering Eliza Smith’s words:
Is he the one you dream of?

It was later in the day, when the excitement of Sebastian’s arrival had worn off, that Penelope remembered. ‘Oh,’ she cried to Heath, jumping to her feet. ‘I have a gift for you.’

Quickly, she hurried to where she’d hidden her wrapped gift. Earlier in the week Georgina had confided that Heath had sent away for a gift for her, and not wanting to be unprepared, Penelope had quickly organised her own.

Returning moments later, she sank onto the blanket beside him, grateful for Harry’s stories and Sebastian, which kept the party otherwise entertained. She and Heath could exchange gifts in some privacy, without the prying eyes of Mrs Priscopp and her niece. The latter was now too busy trying to catch the eye of Sebastian to even notice them.

‘Thank you, my love,’ Heath said warmly as his fingers deftly removed the wrapping. A pair of cufflinks fell into the palm of his hand.

‘I hope you like them,’ Penelope said shyly. ‘They’re hummingbirds.’ She hoped he remembered them from the painting he’d admired.

Heath gazed at her, his heated eyes filled with something akin to sadness for a moment.

‘You don’t like them?’ she whispered, her heart twisting.

He shook his head. ‘No. I mean, yes. I like them very much. They’re perfect. What was it they represent? Timelessness.’

Penelope smiled, feeling pleased. He remembered. He turned the birds over and over in his fingers, like he was savouring the feel of them, staring at them with an odd faraway look, as though he remembered something.

Suddenly he started, and he jumped to his feet. ‘I have a gift for you, too.’

He vanished, and appeared moments later with a large, rectangular-shaped gift, which he presented to her. She opened it quickly, curious as to its contents, and could only stare in stunned amazement at her own painting.

It was the painting she’d done recently of Broadhurst Manor. The sunset was a mass of orange, pink, and red, filtered sunlight shining through the clouds to stroke the landscape with infinite tenderness.
God’s fingers
.

Glancing up, Penelope met Heath’s amused expression as he said, ‘I had it framed.’

‘It’s perfect,’ she gasped.

‘I’m glad you like it,’ he murmured, his warm breath on her ear sending delectable tremors down her spine. ‘I thought it might be something you can take with you. When we leave Broadhurst. To always remind you.’

For some inexplicable reason, Penelope felt her eyes fill with tears.
What is wrong with me today?
she wondered abstractly,
My emotions are peculiarly disturbed
. Brushing away the tears in her eyes, she turned back to the image on canvas. Broadhurst Manor. God’s fingers tenderly comforting the broken land. Despite her happiness, Penelope felt the beginnings of fear sneak into her bones and a sense of sadness sweep across her heart.

Glancing up, she wasn’t the least bit surprised to find Sebastian watching her, his eyes filled with an emotion she’d never seen before and couldn’t possibly fathom.

Present day

I woke on Monday morning with a start. Clambering out of bed, I climbed the stairs to the attic and collected my journal, curling up on the armchair, under Gran’s rug. I
felt
well rested, but there was something that made me alert and anxious, as if the world was different and
very
wrong.

Putting pen to paper, I paused as a fresh thought occurred. I searched my mind and memories, my body frozen with shock. Swallowing hard, my heart thudded to a halt as I realised what so unnerved me.

Sebastian had arrived.

At last he had a name, a new name of course, one that couldn’t be applied to him in every lifetime and one that meant he was never anticipated.
Sebastian
. It suited him.

But now that he was there, in Penelope’s world, it wouldn’t be long before he acted. It was never long. I hoped it was enough time for Penelope and Heath, but the gravestone’s inscription, its date, suggested otherwise. I wished there was some way I could alert Penelope, some way I could get a message to her. But of course that was impossible; her time was two hundred years ago, and what was about to happen, already had.

A tentative rap on the door interrupted me. ‘Abbie?’

Quickly, I shoved my journal under the blanket. ‘Come in,’ I called, surprised by how sturdy my voice sounded when my insides were churning like crazy.

Meredith pushed open the door, glancing around uncertainly. The tiny window allowed in just enough sunlight to brighten the room, but no warmth. ‘I was just checking you’re okay?’

‘I slept in.’ I managed a small smile for my aunt.

‘Oh. Well, I have to leave for work now. Beth rang and said she would pick you up for school. She rang your cell, didn’t you hear it?’

I shook my head. My cell phone was next to my bed. ‘Well, I have to run,’ Meredith said, frowning slightly, ‘but we’ll talk more tonight, okay?’

I nodded, following her out, then returning to my room where I checked my phone. I had taken the journal with me, and I tucked it under a spare fold of carpet in my wardrobe as I listened to my messages. The first was Beth exclaiming about me not answering my phone, asking where had I been all weekend—she’d called and texted all Sunday—and saying that she would pick me up for school, now that her car was fixed.

The next message was from Marcus. He asked if I wanted a lift to school.

I grinned. Of course I wanted a lift to school! I quickly texted him ‘yes’ before dialling Beth’s number. We’d barely spoken since my outburst on Friday, and I knew she’d be fretting, especially since I’d left my phone at home all day yesterday. Beth would think I ignored her on purpose, which definitely wasn’t the case.

I’d just been distracted, that’s all.

Distracted by Marcus and his lovely smile and warm, crinkle-edged eyes.

‘Abbie! Oh my god! Where have you been?’ cried Beth, answering on the first ring. ‘I’ve been calling and calling—I finally had to ring your home number and speak to Meredith. You aren’t still angry at me about going to the Spring dance, are you? Because I told you I had to go, my mum—’

‘Its fine,’ I cut her off, ‘really, it’s fine. I don’t care if you go to the Spring dance, and I’m sorry I made such a fuss about it.’

My rare apology was greeted by stunned silence at the other end of the line. Finally, she spoke. ‘So, o-kay. Where’ve you been? If you weren’t angry with me, then why didn’t you answer your phone? Or at least text me back?’

‘Actually, I was out and forgot my phone,’ I confessed.

‘Well, where were you?’ demanded Beth. ‘It hasn’t got anything to do with Marcus, has it? Because he was asking an awful lot of questions about you on Saturday night.’ She paused, giggling slightly before continuing. ‘And he wasn’t even being discreet about it. Walked right up to me, with Lilly following, and just started asking about you. When I told him where you were he pretty much left straight away.’