Virginia Henley (32 page)

Sleep was a million miles away. He left his bed and put on a robe, then he went to his desk. He was writing a book about the history of Bath that began when Claudius invaded Britain and established a spa for the military fed by hot natural springs that were called Aquae Sulis.

Mark pulled out a map he had drawn of Aquae Sulis
and began to study it. Whenever he worked on his Roman projects, they absorbed him completely. As his body began to relax, his mind began to review the questions he had never been able to answer. Why did he have a consuming passion for all things Roman? Had he lived in the time when the Romans occupied Britain? He had always been open-minded enough to believe it was a possibility.

Now, however, new questions arose. Had he been a Roman? Had he been a general called Marcus Magnus? He liked the name. It seemed to fit. He threw down his pen and ran his fingers through his hair. He was being fanciful. He wanted to believe this fantasy because Diana was a part of it. He wanted to believe they had been lovers, so they could be lovers again. He was being ruled by his cock!

He’d been in a state of arousal so long, his testes ached. He glanced over to his bed and pictured her lying there. His imagination didn’t stop at the bed. He pictured her nude, lying in her bath, her golden hair floating about her creamy shoulders as she languidly soaped her beautiful, half-submerged breasts.

This was the result of a day of denial and restraint; what the hell would he be like after a long night of the same? He knew the only way to get her out of his system was to make love to her. It was midnight. The house was asleep. He could go down the hall to her room and carry her struggling to his bed. She tantalized him so much, he stood up from his desk and contemplated the door, his urgency almost bringing him to flash point.

Beneath the covers, as she began to get warm, Diana contemplated the long lonely night ahead of her, fraught with fear. And then a most comforting notion came to her. If she fell asleep, perhaps she would dream of Marcus. The thought was irresistible, luring her to drowsiness, then finally sleep. She tumbled deep into the abyss immediately
and slept undisturbed until almost midnight. Then slowly she began to toss about.

Where was she? Dear God, she was back in the slave pens. She was fettered, and so were they, but close enough that they could reach out to touch her! She pulled away frantically, not wanting their loathsome touch. As she moved out of reach of one, another made a grab for her. “No, no,” she moaned desperately, tossing and turning this way and that to avoid the cruel hands.

By the time the massive guard came to take her to Circus Maximus, she was trembling uncontrollably.
Dear God, don’t let this be happening! Why have I gone back in time again?
She had gone through this once, now she had to face it all again, only this time it was worse. This time she knew what awaited her in the arena! Half mad with fear, she began to scream, and then by some miracle she broke away from the executioner and began to run.

Mark heard her scream of terror. He strode swiftly across his chamber and threw back the door. Diana was running down the darkened hallway that led from her room to his. She ran straight into his arms.

“I went back, I went back,” she cried, her body shaking so badly her teeth chattered. Her body was freezing cold, he could feel it beneath the fine cambric of her nightgown.

His powerful arms tightened about her and she clung to him desperately. “Diana, you’re safe. It was a nightmare.” A wave of protectiveness swept over him. He knew a deep need to protect her with his life, even if it was only from the darklings.

He lifted her and carried her to the fire. Her arms about his neck clung desperately.

“Marcus, help me,” she begged.

“I’m Mark,” he said firmly, lowering himself into a chair before the fire, still holding on to her.

She was trembling like a frightened animal snared in a trap. She pressed her face into the hollow between his neck and his shoulder, and he stroked her hair and her back with a firm hand to imbue her with some of his strength.

“Diana, do you know where you are?” he demanded. His voice was deep, almost harsh. Instinctively he knew she needed his strength, not his gentleness. It felt as if she nodded her head. He loosened the stranglehold she had about his neck and held her hands in his. Her eyes were wide with fear, her breathing labored as if she’d been running for her life.

“Answer me!”

“Yes,” she whispered.

“Who am I?”

“M … Mark.”

“Then you know you are safe. I won’t let anything or anyone hurt you!”

She reached out her hands to feel the slabs of muscle in his chest, then she spread her hands apart as if measuring
the width of his broad shoulders, then she brought her palms down and gripped his powerful biceps as if she were testing his strength.

She looked into his black eyes. “You’re just the same, just as big, just as hard. You’re such a powerful force against evil. I need you to hold me.”

Forever,
he thought. “For as long as it takes,” he promised.

She held on to him just as firmly as he held her. She drew on his strength, giving herself over to him completely. As the warmth of the fire and the heat of his body seeped into her, she began to feel safer. Slowly, her panic began to recede. Gradually, her trembling ceased and she lay quietly and trustfully in his arms.

As he held her in his lap, he marveled that the seductive woman of a few hours ago was now a very young girl. He had never nurtured and protected a female before. It was a heady sensation to feel so all-powerful. Strange as it seemed, when she drew upon his strength, it doubled, making him feel omnipotent.

She had given him her confidence and her trust. He knew there would never be a better time to get the rest of her story from her. “Talk to me—tell me what happened.”

“In the nightmare?”

“No, Diana. What happened in Aquae Sulis?”

She nestled against him. “Marcus and I fell in love. How can I describe how deeply, how completely? So many things stood between us—our beliefs, our attitudes, our religion, even time itself, but our love overcame everything. We became bonded. We were soulmates.”

Her murmured words touched his heart with loneliness. He had never known what she described. His arms tightened and she rubbed her cheek against his rock-hard chest.

“He didn’t want to go to Rome without me, but Marcus considered it his duty. He wanted us to be married, but needed permission from Rome because he was a career
soldier who had signed on for twenty-six years.” She moved her cheek so that she could feel his heartbeat.

“I was terrified to go to Rome. I had read about Nero’s atrocities, so I made up my mind to use my seductive powers to keep Marcus from going. I reckoned without love. He had to go, so I set my fears aside and went with him.

“His father welcomed me as his daughter. Titus Magnus and I grew to love each other in the short time we had together. Marcus left me at his father’s villa while he and the procurator used their influence with the senators to get Paullinus replaced as governor of Britannia…” Diana’s voice trailed off.

“No matter how dreadful, you must face it. Trust me to keep you safe.” His lips touched her temple.

She drew back and looked up into his eyes. “I trusted Marcus completely. I believed he was all the protection I would ever need. He was the strongest, most physically powerful man that any age of history could ever produce, but it wasn’t enough.”

“Let go of it, Diana!” It was a command.

“Titus was poisoned and I was blamed.” She began to sob, and everything came out in a rush. “I was taken to the slave pens—it was a living nightmare. Marcus kept hope alive within me. I was certain he would come. I was taken to Circus Maximus to be executed while Nero watched from his imperial box. Marcus was with him. He must have learned of his father’s murder at the same time he saw me staked in the arena.”

She drew a shuddering breath that convulsed her whole body and held on to Mark Hardwick as if he were her salvation. “The lions, the flames, and Marcus all reached me at the same time. Marcus loved me enough to plunge his sword into my heart to end my agony!”

Mark closed his eyes, feeling her pain, reliving Marcus’ tortured anguish. It was as if he experienced his own death. “I saved you,” he murmured joyfully.

Diana stopped sobbing and looked at him.

“Marcus saved you. When he plunged in his sword, you came back to your own time.” “Yes.”

She touched his face, so heartbreakingly familiar, so beloved. “Thank you.” The shared moment was private, intimate, for them alone. She moved back against his heart and he enfolded her in his arms. She felt boneless, melting against his strength, which she knew would endure forever.

He didn’t move until he knew she was asleep. Then he carried her to his bed and laid her gently on top of the covers. He stared down at her, his brows drawn together in perplexity. She had told her story so convincingly, he had experienced it along with her. There were so many questions and so few answers, but of one thing he felt certain— their lives were entwined.

He stretched out beside her on top of the bed, watching over her like a dark avenging angel.

She sensed his presence and turned from her back so that she lay half on him in her favorite position, one of her legs between his, one of his between hers.

She thinks she’s in bed with Marcus,
his brain cried out.

“I know it’s Mark,” she whispered as if she read his thoughts. Her hands skimmed over his hard muscles once, and then she was asleep.

When Mr. Burke opened the chamber door with the earl’s shaving water, Mark Hardwick’s eyes flew open guiltily. As the beautiful girl stirred in his arms, he said, “Mr. Burke, you didn’t see this.”

“Of course not, my lord,” Mr. Burke said calmly. He set down the water and departed as he did every other morning.

Diana, using his ribcage to lever herself up, blushed profusely. “I’m sorry, my lord.”

“I’m not; it was my pleasure.” His black eyes
brimmed with humor. “And now that we’ve slept together, I think you can stop calling me
my lord.”

She didn’t smile. “I want to thank you for helping me. I was terrified and you banished my fears for me.” She was in earnest, and covered with embarrassment.

He lifted his arms behind his head, stretched his muscular thighs beneath the velvet robe, and allowed his eyes to roam over her at leisure. “If I am Marcus Magnus, why are you embarrassed? Surely awakening in my arms is familiar to you?”

Her embarrassment was immediately replaced by a spark of anger. He was mocking her. “But totally unfamiliar to you. I remember every detail, you remember nothing!”

“I remember last night,” he said seductively. “Perhaps you can rekindle my memories. Let’s see, when you awoke with Marcus, your bodies entwined, surely he made love to you? Why don’t you let me—”

“Dream on,” she said sharply, tossing back her hair and scrambling off the bed.

He cursed low beneath his breath at the reaction of his body to her merest touch. Quitting the bed, he turned his back upon her to tend the fire.

He suspected she knew exactly how tempting she looked in the sheer lavender nightgown with that silken mass of gold shimmering about her shoulders. He was about to accuse her of running to him in the night on the pretext of a nightmare, but stopped himself in time. He knew her terror had been genuine. But now that daylight had arrived, so had her confidence and she was back to being a saucy baggage.

When he turned from the blazing fire, he saw that she was examining the map on his desk.

“This is wrong.”

He stiffened. “What the devil do you mean?” “This map of Aquae Sulis is wrong. Who drew it?”

“I did,” he said aggressively.

She lifted her lashes to give him a pitying glance. “Oh dear, your memory is abysmal.”

He closed the distance between them immediately. “I didn’t draw it from memory, I drew it from research.”

“Then your research is as faulty as your memory.”

“What’s wrong with it?” he demanded.

“The fortress covered a much larger area than you have drawn. The baths were inside the walls. They were built for the legionaries.”

The earl was about to contradict her, but suddenly what she said made complete sense to him.

“The fortress covered at least thirty acres. As well as housing soldiers, a huge barracks ran along the wall that housed slaves.”

His finger followed the path hers traced across his map. “Slaves?”

She looked up at him frankly. “They were your bloody slaves. Who the hell do you think built the roads and bridges? Not the Romans, though they get all the credit!”

“My engineers were the finest in the world!” He stopped, aghast at what he had been goaded into saying.

“You
do
remember!”

They were standing so close, their thighs brushed. Diana suddenly realized how revealing her nightgown was. “Oh lord, I forgot the doctor was coming,” she mumbled.

Diana was barely back in the peach-colored chamber before Nora came sweeping through the door. “Your bath’s ready and here’s a more respectable nightgown to pop on before the doctor arrives.”

Bathed and shaved, immaculate in buff breeches and bottle-green waistcoat, Mark Hardwick greeted his friend, Charles Wentworth.

The doctor lifted an eyebrow of inquiry. “Did you encourage her to talk?”

“Yes, she’s talked at great length.”

“Without coercion, I trust?”

“Dammit, Charles, you talk as if I’m incapable of being gentle with a woman.”

“Mmm, well, I suppose there’s always a first time for everything. Has she changed her story?”

“No. She’s absolutely convinced she traveled back in time.”

As they ascended the carved Elizabethan staircase, Mark asked, “Do you ever get the impression that you’ve lived before, in another time?”

Charles examined his friend’s dark face to see if he was serious. He was. Charles laughed. “To tell you the truth, yes. When I graduated university and went on my grand tour, I visited Egypt. It was as familiar to me as London. More familiar. I experienced such strong déjà vu wherever I went, it couldn’t possibly have been the first time I was there.” He pulled a deprecating face. “Physician to the Pharaohs sounds like the rambling of a madman.”

Mark shrugged, “Sounds normal enough to me, old man. Now I’ll leave you to your patient.”

Charles entered Diana’s bedchamber saying, “Good morning, Lady Diana. You are looking much better; radiant in fact.”

“Thank you, Dr. Wentworth, I’m feeling quite rested. May I get up today?”

“Not so fast, young lady. I have a couple of questions first. Have you experienced any pain?”

Only in my heart.
“No, none at all, Doctor.”

“Good. Have you experienced any faintness or dizziness?”

“No.”

The door swung open and Mark walked in. “Has she told you she experienced a terrifying nightmare last night?”

Charles’s eyes sought hers for confirmation.

“One so real she thought she’d gone back in time again,” Mark continued.

Diana glared daggers at him.

“That’s interesting,” Charles said. “Not altogether bad in my opinion.”

“Bad enough,” Mark said grimly.

“No, I meant instead of being repressed, it’s coming out both consciously and subconsciously.” He glanced at both of them. “Apparently you feel comfortable discussing this with Mark and I think that’s the best therapy.”

Diana bristled. “If you’ll keep your mouth shut, the doctor will let me get up today.”

Mark towered over her. “I don’t object to you getting up. I’ve seen you in bed so much, I’m beginning to believe you really were my mistress!”

Charles grinned. “By God, the two of you don’t need me to encourage you to communicate, unless it’s as referee.”

Diana blushed faintly. “I’m sorry, Dr. Wentworth, but Mark can be so impossibly arrogant.”

Charles’s eyes danced. “I take it you’ve known him for some time.”

Only seventeen hundred years.

“You may get dressed if you don’t overtax yourself, and if you promise to have a rest this afternoon. Same time tomorrow.”

“My aunt and uncle should be here by then. Lord, I’m not looking forward to the inquisition I’ll get.”

“I’ll be glad to speak to them, Lady Diana. Give them all sorts of dire warnings about what could happen if they press you too hard.”

“Thank you, Doctor.”

“Peter should be back by then too?” Charles said, giving Mark a look that warned he’d better get his feelings for the lady sorted out before his brother returned.

Mark walked Charles to the front door of Hardwick Hall and held it open for him. “Charles?”