Forgotten Time (Ravenhurst Series, #1) A New Adult Time Travel Romance (12 page)

“What do you mean she is not your sister?” Isabelle asked shakily.

 

“Goodness, you are slow, aren’t you?” Judith complained. “Someone please save me from this old person’s stupidity,” Judith sighed out as she gathered her hair in her hand and began to run her fingers through the ends.

 

“It was a lie, Isabelle,” Devlin said with a matter of fact tone in his voice.

 

“It was a lie?” Isabelle responded, her voice deadpan.

 

“Yes, it was a lie, you old bat. Did you think someone as young and virile as Devlin would truly be interested in someone as old as you? You really are slow of wit, aren’t you?” Judith asked nastily, climbing from the bed. She paraded naked across the room and settled herself on the chair in front of Isabelle’s dressing table, giving Isabelle an ugly look in the mirror.

 

Isabelle watched her uninhibited display, not an ounce of skin sagging down, her body still firm and ripe from youth. She too once looked much like Judith when she was young; time had taken its toll on her body, but her mind was sharper now than it had ever been.

Looking at Judith now, her face reflecting in the mirror, she could see the distinct differences between Devlin and her. She had been played for a fool. She should have known from the start. After a moment, Isabelle straightened her spine and pressed her shoulders back. “Get out of my house and take your whore with you,” she ground out, her voice shaking with anger.

 

Judith turned towards Devlin, looking mortally wounded. “You aren’t going to let that bat call me names, are you?” she whined.

 

Devlin waited a moment before he spoke. “Now, now, wife, don’t be hasty; surely we can come to some understanding,” he replied callously once more.

 

“Understanding? Are you a bloody idiot? I said get out or I will call this house down upon your insolent heads. Do you understand what I am saying? And don’t think to take anything with you either, except the pathetic pittance you came to me with. And your whore can go just as she is since I am the one that bought her clothing as well. Or have you forgotten my money paid for all you have?” Isabelle stood rigidly, wanting to crumple, but holding her ground.

 

Devlin raised a brow at her, daring her to say more. “We had a deal, Isabelle, or have you forgotten that as well?”

 

Isabelle took a step backward, inching towards the door. “I’ll give you a head start. And if you do not leave this moment, I will make sure you are escorted from this house directly to the magistrate,” she warned. She turned to leave, making one more stupid mistake in a long line of them. Before she could make it to the door, a burst of white stole her vision and pain brought her to her knees. Another sharp pain followed and she finally crumpled to the ground.

 

Footsteps sounded from above, bringing Isabelle’s mind back to the present. She opened her eyes, awaiting her captor’s arrival.

 

    

The dim light flickered in the hall, throwing shadows against the door of her borrowed room. It loomed before her, fading in and out of focus as she swayed on her feet. All the alcohol she consumed caught up with her body, but her mind still raced. She was still trying to decide whether she was a raving lunatic or somehow managed to travel into the past.

Really, who knew? Maybe she was having an alcohol-induced hallucination. She grabbed her skin under her arm and pinched, only to be rewarded by a sharp pain. "
Ow, that hurt,
" she whined, trying to rub the pain away. A red welt the size of a marble rose on her arm as she massaged it. Would the room still be as she remembered it? Or would her delusional brain conjure something else up in its place?

She swallowed hard as she twisted the handle. It didn’t budge. She tried again, nothing.

Katherine wanted to scream, but who would help her if they heard? She wanted out. Out of the dress, the house, out of this… this place she found herself stuck in. Angry, unshed tears welled in her eyes and she dashed them away. Grabbing the handle again, she shoved with all her might.

The door swung open easily as her body sailed through, flying into the room and landing on the carpet with a loud, reverberating “thud!” Her gown flew over her head. She could feel the cool air chilling her stocking-clad legs and backside. She lifted her head slightly, but gave up and dropped it again to the floor.

 

Much later that night, at Ravenhurst

Two black, shiny objects floated in and out of focus in front of Katherine’s face. Her head turned sideways on the carpet, the pile wet under her cheek from drool. She was a mess. She focused her eyes on one of the objects, which was tapping up and down. It was a foot. As a cool breeze wafted up her gown, she closed her eyes in humiliated horror. Her ass was showing.

 

“Good evening, milady,” he said finally, his voice crisp and proper, emphasizing his accent.

 

She lifted her head, trying to focus on his boots. “Good evening, my good man,” she managed, with her own feigned, English accent, slurring her words.

 

“Do forgive my intrusion into your private sanctuary, but I found no other alternative to share a moment of privacy with you.”

Katherine crawled up on all fours, pushing her gown over her backside. “No problem,” she slurred again, trying to lift her head. Her hair came undone, falling in front of her face, blocking everything but the shiny boots.

 

“Milady, can you stand without, erhm… becoming ill?” he questioned warily.

She fell forward, her face rubbing across the rug. “Damn, that burned,” she groaned as he lifted her up off the floor. “You know, my good man, I think there is someone spying on me when I am in bed. I have a feeling they are trying to get me,” she hiccupped, swaying on her feet as he tried to steady her. He smelled like leather and a heady spice. It was a comforting scent.

 

Milford watched her hiccup and giggle as she tried to cover her mouth with her hand. She missed. He rolled his eyes. Despite noting this may not have been the best time to approach her on the subject, he really saw no other alternative. Time was running out.

 

“One minute, my good man” she slurred out; “I’ll be right back.”

Katherine fell out of the bathroom a short time later. She felt less drunk. Shoving her wet hair from her face, she wiped her hands on the front of her already wet gown. She just wanted to lie down. The man was still in her borrowed room, standing by the fire. She groaned, unable to help herself as he lifted his arm towards the chair in front of the fire where she had eaten earlier.

“Milady, please take a seat.” He knew from his own experience that his lordship’s drink of choice was a heady brew. He wasn’t sure she would even remember what he had to tell her.

 

Katherine tried to focus on the man as he took the seat opposite her. His eyes drew hers; they were full of secrets and mischief. Recognition hit her squarely in the face like a ton of bricks. She narrowed her eyes at him. “I know you, don’t I?” she blurted out.

 

Milford raised a brow, his green eyes showing surprise. He cleared his throat. “I would not say ‘know’ as in we have been formally introduced,” he awkwardly continued, “but as in having seen one another before, why, yes, yes we have.” He waited.

 

Katherine leaned in to study his face. She leaned back, staring at him. He smiled, making his green eyes twinkle in the dim light. “Yes, yes you are the gentleman, with the necklace from my work.” She instantly felt her face flushing red. “Ah… I, um, you know… borrowed it.”

 

Milford smiled. He knew “borrowed” was being used a bit loosely, but that was his intention, of course. He settled back into the adjoining chair and waited, with a grin.

 

Katherine took his smile as a good sign. At least, he didn’t seem upset; but why was he smiling slyly at her? “Oh, I know you warned me, but really…”

 

He said nothing, only nodded.

 

“Wait a minute; this can’t be. You see, I am somewhere I am sure I am not supposed to be, and you are… well, it doesn’t matter what you are… Oh no! I need to use the bathroom again!” She covered her mouth and ran from the room.

 

 

Hawthorne Manor

Laughter of two young girls echoe
d
in Isabelle’s mind. She stared at the locked door. Laughing out loud, she was unable to recognize her own voice. She suddenly found her situation hilarious. She laughed and laughed at the door. Just a simple, silly, stupid door kept her trapped. And now the ones that were closed for so long within her mind began to open. She closed her eyes and walked through one.

 

The past

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